#so there was a moment in time where i thought they might make me take summer school or something

[avelera]

So apparently, Fortiche shared concept art where Jayce's Hexcorization in the cave would extend all the way to his face:

And this is really interesting to me from a narrative perspective, here's why:

Much of S2 Jayce's arc is incredibly... punitive. Like, he is really being punished step by step for everything he did wrong in S1. From Renni terrorizing and almost killing him for the death of her son, to Viktor leaving him "for another woman" (the Hexcore as represented by Sky) much like Jayce left him for politics as represented by Mel, there's really a sense of the narrative not only tearing Jayce down to his bare essentials (something that's very common for TV writing to do, by the way, it's very common that you want to see characters reduced down to who they are for their "long night of the soul" moment before they learn the lessons of what they really stand for before going into the climax armed with those lessons), but Jayce's time in the cave really goes even further than that and not only does S2 take away his political career, his Hextech ambitions, his state as someone able-bodied, much of his strength, and certain other gifts, it looks like in this draft they considered taking away his beauty too.

I think it would have been interesting either way if they had, but I want to dive into the narrative structure of action and punishment in Arcane, why Hexcorizing Jayce's face might have been a step too far and not really addressed a lesson he needed to learn, and my thoughts on punitive character arcs in general in Arcane (or lack thereof), specifically with regards to Jayce and Caitlyn.

I've mentioned elsewhere that I always found it interesting that much of the hate directed towards Jayce by the fans was for his perceived incompetence in difficult moments, rather than at how naturally gifted he seems to be at everything.

When I first watched S1 on my own, I thought Jayce was a bit unbearable because everything comes so easily to him (after Viktor becomes his partner and Hextech takes off as a result, that is). He is naturally beautiful, he's built like a god but doesn't appear to do any sort of exercise routine to maintain this other than working in the forge, he becomes the Man of Progress and rockstar of Piltover pretty much without trying, girls are literally sighing dreamily as he goes by.

He's also naturally a genius, from what we see, revolutionizing multiple industries with one invention. Even his rescue as a child is a literal miracle and it spurs him to create an invention that makes him a rockstar. When he enters politics, he immediately dominates, to the point where he's able to get a unanimous vote to overthrow the founder of the city within weeks of going there. Even in battle he's naturally gifted and naturally lucky during the raid of the Shimmer factory (up until the death of Renni's son), even though he has no prior skills as far as we know. He also wins the love of arguably the most beautiful woman in the series, again, seemingly without trying.

Then, S2 doesn't just take all of this away from him, it seems to go a step further into actually punishing Jayce for how easy and miraculous his life was in S1.

I'm of two minds about the Hexcorization reaching his face, but I have a hypothesis. I think it would have looked fucking rad but, I kinda get why they didn't do it:

Because Jayce's good looks are not something he can control, unlike the other things the narrative punishes him for.

Insofar as he can control his looks, he gives up on the clean-cut, immaculate "Golden Boy" image. Even in the idealized astral plane, he keeps most of the marks of his time in the pit like his hair and beard. I think it's because Jayce likes who he became down there. The clean-cut version of him was always the mask of him trying to please others, Jayce's appearance after he emerges from the cave is him shedding the opinions of others (contrast this with how Viktor idealizes himself in the astral plane, removing all marks of his illness. This isn't a criticism, just an interesting point of contrast).

So basically, my theory is Fortiche may have pulled back on Hexcorizing Jayce's face on the one hand to soften the visuals a bit, but secondly because it keeps the focus on punishing Jayce for things he chose to do, rather than things he doesn't really have control over.

But make no mistake, the narrative comes down hard on Jayce in S2, for every little thing the fans could and often did hate him for in S1. He pays for all of them, arguably in excess of what he maybe deserved, since as he says he didn't ask for any of this. But he did go along with it, and there's where the hammer of consequence (quite literally) comes down on him, tears away all his privileges, drags him down to literally the level of Viktor when he first left the undercity and says, "You have to do it all again but now focused on what really matters, and it's going to be ten times harder than it ever was."

This, in my opinion, is why Jayce is so popular coming out of S2. It is a hell of an arc, it's a hell of a redemption! You gave the man everything any man could want, then you took it all away, and then as his crowning moment of showing he has truly learned these lessons and made up for his mistakes, he makes possibly the most loving gesture possible, puts his weapons down, and reaches out to the person he loves most and literally sacrifices himself on the altar of his mistakes to make things right and show Viktor he is loved, and to protect Viktor from the horrifically lonely fate of his future self. It doesn't get any more noble, loving, or self-sacrificing than that.

Because more than we like to see a character punished we like to see them learn from their mistakes and come back better. Jayce's S2 nobility is earned, perhaps even to excess, no one can question whether he suffered enough to make up for what he did in S1 but even the most uncharitable read of him in S1, his biggest hater, would have to agree his time spent starving to death in agony, alone in that cave for months, has got to be just about the worst punishment a human can face and live.

Which is one reason I must add that I find it a little puzzling that Arcane's creators didn't predict the hate that Caitlyn would get in S2.

Keep in mind, because this is very important, the Arcane creators did not make S2 in response to fan reactions to S1. S2 was already in production and the script was locked in and done before anyone outside their organizations saw S1. So nothing that happens in S2 is as a result of fan response.

But, the creators did understand that Jayce was going to need to suffer narrative punishment for what he did in S1 in order to be redeemed, whether they predicted how hated he would be after S1, they did predict that redemption would be necessary. And boy-howdy, did they give him a hell of a redemption arc!

But Caitlyn's S2 actions are almost in lock-step similar to Jayce's S1 actions, being manipulated (by a Medarda!) into accepting power, but maybe not having a choice in the matter, but still maybe expanding that power on their own because it is useful in its own right. Caitlyn also makes terrible mistakes. A child doesn't die but people in the undercity do get hurt during her rage-fuled raids, even if most of them are mob bosses and their goons. The narrative asks, does that make it right? Caitlyn like Jayce hurts the person closest to her who is from the undercity and uses bigoted language against the people of the undercity to Vi's face in much the same way that Jayce did to Viktor on the bridge, though in Jayce's defense, he apologized immediately after.

So, seeing how hated Jayce was coming out of S1, to the point where there's still barely any merchandise of him, I'm shaking my head rather ruefully that there was so much merch made for Caitlyn this time around. And I get it! Caitlyn and Vi were very popular after S1, they are intentionally THE main romance of the show and it was a very popular romance coming out of the innocence of their meet cute in S1.

But it's a romance that dearly needed a longer third act if you wanted Caitlyn to be as embraced after her mistakes as Jayce was after making up for his all through S2. You need to give her as long or at least as in-depth of a redemption act with as much suffering and acknowledgment of her mistakes if you want Vi and Caitlyn at the end to get celebrated the way Jayce making it up to Viktor is, because as much as I understand the choice to focus on pacing instead of exposition, and I do think Caitlyn's apology and realization of her mistakes are there on the page more than people complain, I do also agree that it is a bit "blink and you'll miss it" even if it's there. Jayce got a whole episode of being thrown into the Torment Nexus for his mistakes, real or imagined, if you didn't like him or his choices, you definitely got the sadistic glee of watching life kick the stuffing out of him for what he did in S1.

But besides her fight with Ambessa, which was a result of a confluence of many events in the story, not just Caitlyn's mistakes, Caitlyn doesn't really suffer much for the mistakes she made to those she loves. Her losing an eye to Ambessa didn't happen because she said bigoted things to Vi or became a short-term puppet dictator of Piltover. It was a result of Ambessa's actions and maneuvering more than it was a result of Caitlyn's personal mistakes to her loved ones.

In contrast, Jayce's time in the pit gave him the chance to reflect on and suffer for the the mistakes he made that led to the Anomaly that led to him being down in this pit, and what he would do to make it up to his loved ones like Viktor when he returned. Caitlyn never got a moment like that and from what I'm seeing of the vitriol directed towards her, so similar to what Jayce got after S1, it seems like she really needed it if we were going to like her to the same extent again, in a way uncomplicated by lingering questions about whether she ever truly learned the lessons her character needed to learn to grow as a person.

And it's just funny to me that a narrative that was so aware that this whole huge punishment arc was needed to rehabilitate Jayce wasn't aware that we'd need one for Caitlyn too, at least if they're going to move all that merch they made for her (please give us Jayce merch, Riot, I'm begging).

[00valentina-writes00]

Ambessa x reader with gut wrenching mommy issues? 😭 I swear, something in that woman just triggers my mommy issues and IT MAKES ME WANNA START BAWLINGGGGG.

At this point everything I ask for is gonna be about Ambessa (if that’s not a problem) but I know you’ll literally get this JUST RIGHT like you always do. Thank you!! 🖤🖤🖤

(It’s never a bother to write for Ambessa, although, at this rate I’m going to have to make a part two to my Masterlist)

✞⛧ Ambessa with a girl that has horrendous mommy issues ✞⛧

✞⛧ You were raised in an environment where love was a rare currency, a mother who prioritized power and status over affection. It left you feeling neglected and deeply insecure about your worth.

✞⛧ Your mother’s coldness haunted you, leaving you with a deep-seated need for reassurance, for someone to show you what genuine care could look like.

✞⛧ With Ambessa, you find yourself drawn to her commanding nature, but at times, it also triggers something more vulnerable in you—something raw. You see shades of your mother’s harshness in Ambessa’s strength, but at the same time, you’re desperate for the comfort she could provide.

✞⛧ Sometimes, you catch yourself comparing Ambessa to your mother, wondering if she’ll leave you too, just like she did. It’s an insecurity you try to bury, but it surfaces in small ways—lingering doubts, tearful moments, and anxious thoughts.

✞⛧ Ambessa doesn’t always understand the weight of your trauma. At times, she’ll be blunt with you in a way that stings, and you retreat into yourself, silently wondering if it’s just a matter of time before she gives up on you.

✞⛧ When Ambessa shows a rare moment of softness, you’re both relieved and terrified. You desperately want to believe that she could care for you in the ways you need, but the wounds from your past make it hard to trust.

✞⛧ You sometimes freeze when she raises her voice, even if it’s just to give a command in battle or during training. The sound of authority in her tone echoes the way your mother would speak to you.

✞⛧ Ambessa notices your hesitation and softens, but you’re often too afraid to fully show her your insecurities. You never want to appear weak in her eyes, so you bottle it up until it becomes overwhelming.

✞⛧ When you have a bad day, when the weight of your past hits hardest, Ambessa catches you in a rare moment of fragility. You curl into yourself, and she knows—though it’s unspoken—that you’re craving something only a mother’s love could provide.

✞⛧ Ambessa is quick to take charge when she sees you struggling with your emotions. She doesn’t fully know how to comfort you in a way that feels right, but she knows how to protect, how to provide a sense of stability. She doesn’t hesitate to wrap you in her arms, even if it’s a bit awkward.

✞⛧ You often crave validation—“You did well,” “You’re enough.” These simple affirmations mean everything to you, but they’re difficult for you to ask for. It’s a weakness you fear exposing.

✞⛧ Ambessa’s strict, no-nonsense nature sometimes feels too close to your mother’s indifference. In those moments, you shut down emotionally, unsure if you’re just too much for her to handle.

✞⛧ There’s a hidden fear that Ambessa will grow bored of you—she’s powerful, commanding, and might tire of your clingy need for affection and reassurance. Your mother’s abandonment runs deep, and it’s hard to shake the feeling that you’re not enough for someone like Ambessa.

✞⛧ You’re often afraid of disappointing Ambessa, and the thought of it triggers your deepest insecurities. Even small failures make you wonder if you’ll push her away, if you’re too fragile to be loved properly.

✞⛧ On bad days, when the memories of your mother’s harshness flood in, you find yourself trying to be the perfect partner for Ambessa—often to the detriment of your own well-being. You fear showing weakness because it feels like you’re doomed to repeat the same cycle of neglect.

✞⛧ When Ambessa is harsh with you—maybe even unintentionally—there’s a part of you that recoils, like you did when your mother’s demands were never met with affection. But Ambessa’s different, even if it doesn’t always feel that way.

✞⛧ Ambessa is a woman of few words, but her actions speak volumes. You’ll catch her softening in small ways, checking in with you when you seem distant, a look of concern crossing her face when you’re unusually quiet.

✞⛧ She doesn’t always know how to be tender in the way you need, but she tries. There’s a sharpness to her affection—a strength in it—that speaks to her own understanding of love.

✞⛧ Ambessa’s own experiences with family—especially with Mel—make her fiercely protective of you. She sees your vulnerability and tries to help you process your emotions, though she’s not always equipped to navigate your past trauma.

✞⛧ There are times when you’re upset, and you’ll push Ambessa away, unsure if you even deserve her comfort. But she’s patient. She lets you come to her in your own time, though it hurts her to see you struggle in silence.

✞⛧ Your relationship with Ambessa is complicated by your need for control—an attempt to shield yourself from the pain of abandonment. You’re scared of losing her, but you’re also scared of the intimacy that comes with truly being loved.

✞⛧ Ambessa doesn’t often coddle you, but when she does, it’s rare and meaningful. She understands that there’s a part of you that craves maternal warmth and tries to provide it in her own way, even if it’s a little awkward for her.

✞⛧ You find yourself needing to be needed by Ambessa—sometimes to the point of obsession. When you can’t provide her with something she needs, you feel like you’ve failed her, just like you think you failed your mother.

✞⛧ Ambessa understands that you struggle with your own worth and often takes charge in a way that reassures you—taking care of things so you don’t feel overwhelmed. She’s protective, though sometimes that feels like a reminder of your helplessness.

✞⛧ There are nights when you lie awake, worrying that your need for love will make you too much for Ambessa. You wonder if you’ll eventually drive her away with your fears and neediness.

✞⛧ Ambessa is not a woman who easily shows her emotions, but she takes your insecurities seriously. When you voice your concerns, even if it’s through tears or silent anxiety, she does her best to reassure you—not with soft words, but with firm action. She’s not going anywhere.

✞⛧ Your relationship with Ambessa forces you to confront your fears head-on—your fears of being abandoned, of being unloved, of being too much. She doesn’t coddle you, but she teaches you, slowly and surely, what it means to stand tall despite your brokenness.

✞⛧ Through it all, Ambessa’s care is unspoken. She doesn’t feel the need to constantly reassure you, but her presence in your life is unwavering. She won’t abandon you the way your mother did, and that truth is something you must learn to believe.

✞⛧ The more time you spend with Ambessa, the more you start to trust her. You see the glimmer of care in her eyes when she watches over you—silent, but deeply rooted in the strength of her loyalty. It’s not like what your mother gave you, but it’s real, and it’s yours.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

⋆｡‧˚ʚ 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

⸝⸝ 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒚, 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅, 𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍, 𝒇𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅 ⸝⸝

a/n: i was thinking about this for a while and just HAD to write it!! Bill's a little freaky but ok. everyone kisses differently and i love how much that says about them :) maybe i'll do a part two tho idk if it'll be smth nsfw or no. also sorry if photos are random i just think it suits gravity falls aesthetic plus i was out of ideas (i want summer)

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒍𝒆𝒚

Stan’s got a thing for forehead kisses, always has, always will. they’re effortless and easy. a quick press of his lips when he passes by, a habit more than anything. he’s a busy man, always moving, always going somewhere, but that doesn’t mean he won’t grab you, tilt your head up and press a warm kiss right to your forehead

it's a way of saying “i gotcha��� without actually saying it. doesn’t matter if he’s in a rush, grumbling about tourists, wiping down the counter. he’ll keep you safe. he swears it.

big, warm hands cupping your face. his lips are warm, his stubble scratches against your skin but the moment you start to melt he’s gone.

he pulls back, smirks, winking at you

“gotta give the tourists their money’s worth, sweetheart.” you hear his voice through the walls of the Mystery Shack, always so confident as he launches into his usual con. “step right up, folks! come see the eighth wonder of the world!”

but, oh, don’t let that fool you. he’s a tease, and he knows it.

he’s got another favorite, too

your neck

he makes a game of it. a teasing peck when he leans in to tell you something. a slow, tender kiss at the curve of your throat when he’s feeling particularly smug, when he’s got you pinned between him and the kitchen counter, when he knows you’re hanging on to every little touch.

“heh. what’s that face for, baby? didn’t think id be so smooth, huh?”

he’s a biter, too, making you shiver. he needs to feel the way you react beneath his hands. he likes knowing he can fluster you. likes leaving you breathless, just for him.

and if he’s feeling real bold, his lips might stray lower, making a slow, lazy path along your collarbone. “what? somethin’ wrong? i think I’m right where i wanna be.”

𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅

Ford kisses like a man who’s spent most of his life not kissing anyone, like someone who’s read about it, thought about it, imagined it, but never quite gotten the chance. but when he feels the warmth, the closeness, how intimate it is he can’t stop.

he kisses your hands first, always. fingertips, knuckles, the inside of your wrist where your pulse flutters

your shoulders come next. he’ll press his lips there absently while he’s working, when you’re standing beside him reading over his notes. sometimes, he forgets himself, murmuring a distracted “mm, love you” against your skin before his smart brain catches up with his mouth. and oh the way his ears burn when you point it out

also when he’s overwhelmed, when the world is too much, when his mind is too loud, he rests his forehead there, brushing his lips against the curve of your shoulder. he just wants to feel you close

but when he’s really feeling it, when he’s past overthinking and just wants you, it's your calves. he kneels. Ford takes his time, hands so big, shaking a little as he presses his thumb into muscle while tracing a slow path from your ankle up, up, up with his lips

“you never let me appreciate you properly.” he worships you. lets you feel it in every single careful, thorough kiss.

𝒃𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒉𝒆𝒓

Bill isn’t bound by flesh, but he's bound by desire

he loves mirrors. loves floating there behind you, his golden triangle form looming over you, all-seeing eye staring right into your soul. oh he loves the way you shudder when you see yourself in the reflection, when you see him, wrapping around you

thousands of long, dark limbs curl around your waist, a hand-like thing at your jaw, tilting your head to the side, exposing your skin to him. Bill's mouth appears where his eye should be and oh, that tongue. . .

“nervous, sweet thing? don’t be. i’ll take real good care of ya.”

his tongue is long. obscenely so. it drags over your throat, a slow, hot stroke that sends a jolt straight through you. you hear him laugh delightfully against your skin, because he knows exactly what he’s doing

“aww who’s my favorite little human, huh? who’s my delicious little slab of meat?”

kiss after kiss, mark after mark, he makes you watch. makes you see the way he devours you.

and he doesn’t stop at your neck, oh no, no, no. he follows your spine. mouth pressing open. dragging his long tongue against the curve of your back, your chest, your stomach

“every inch of you is mine. dont you forget that.”

𝒇𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒎𝒄𝒈𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒕

Fidds kisses every part of you that makes him smile.

“well, ain’t you the cutest lil’ thing!”

your cheeks. he just can’t help himself, he sees your face and boom! instant smooch. one cheek, then the other, peppering you with quick, excited little kisses

he giggles into kisses. always, always grinning. pecks to your cheek when he’s working, smooches to your temple when you bring him a snack, laughter between every single kiss because he can’t believe his luck.

“gotcha! hehehe, ya oughta see the look on yer face!”

your nose is next. he thinks it’s adorable. boop. peck. boop. peck

“who’s the cutest thing in the whole dang world? ohhhh, that’s right, it’s you!”

sometimes he’s so excited he forgets to aim and accidentally bumps his nose against yours, which only makes him laugh more

but the most special place, the sweetest is your eyelids.

he does it when you’re falling asleep, when you’re curling against him, feeling safe and warm. a press of lips to your closed eyes, so feather-light

“rest easy, darlin’. im right here.” and if he wakes up before you, if the morning sun is spilling golden across your skin, he does it again

because he loves you. because he just can’t help it

[lara4eclipze]

» Gameboy

sypnosis: if crying was fun, ill be having the time of my life — if loving you was a jump, yeah, i probably died a hundred-ten times

warnings: angst, fluff, implied relationship, jelousy, comfort and etc

talks: I'm in an angst mood so.... smut and fluff reqs might take longer

taglist: @ohmyhaely @nyssalvr @vrtualstar @c-yerim @jellaaa @nakylvr @chuugetmesohigh

lara had taken you as her plus one in a hybe artists party — the night was truly a dream, music blasted all throughout the venue as lara was hand in hand with you

yet lara was close to her friends to be specific yunjin — hugging, pet names even small playful jokes, you drowned out your simmering jealousy with a smile and hugs

you thought to yourself that they were just close — maybe you are just less social, perhaps lara was just missing her friend — you are practically arm candy at this point anyways you shouldn't overthink it

yet as you stand at the corner of the venue you could argue is the best spot all you can see is her and lara, her and lara having fun — when you're the one she's supposed to be having fun with, you're the one she should be with

lara barely recognized your presence the rest of the night — she paraded around with yunjin clinging to her arm, laughing about a joke that was too cheesy for you to remember, what you do remember is a feeling that you didn't belong there, you didn't like the place nor the people

music blasted through the speakers, as everyone did cheers to katseye — as you ran up to congratulate your girlfriend, a hand pushed you away a guard to be specific "hybe idols only sorry" the guard stated, "I'm lara's plus one you can..." you looked again at the desi girl — there she was again ms,huh hugging lara and screaming loudly over the music, "nevermind, thank you" you cut off the rest of the sentence walking off

you sat at the table once occupied with the katseye girls now only you and a couple of unfinished plates of food — you didn't care about anything anymore, you wanted to come home — hug lara and ask for reassurance, that you were still who she wanted

of course, you fought yourself to stop overthinking don't mind it, yet the feelings overwhelmed you — you couldn't speak to anyone cause you were practically no one in this room, and you couldn't stand to look at the red-head at all

"hey you alright?" you heard the filipina ask you — snapping you out of your thoughts — you couldn't make out her features well because of the colorful lights blaring all around yet you knew she was worried

"yeah..just drained" you lied, the older girl knew you, you lived for parties like these — that the main reason you met lara, "come with me let's get some drinks" sophia eases and with enough convincing you agreed

you two walk to the bar, sophia orders a mango sunset for both of you — a mocktail cause shockingly the leader didn't like alcohol much

the feeling of loneliness left for a moment — as you and sophia talked, "hey i know lara can be so much sometimes — but she's never been better... you've changed her you know?" sophia says before bidding a short goodbye walking back to the middle of the room to interact with some illit members

you let the words sink in for a bit — has lara changed? has she changed for the better?, sophias words really strung a chord in your heart

until you felt warm tears paint your face — the trickled down like shiny diamonds embezzling your face, you really couldn't handle not being with lara neither

you've changed her the same way she changed you, you wipe away the tears yet they wouldn't stop falling, embarrassingly fast

"my love? where have you-" lara mutters before taking a look at your face "my god are you crying?!, are you alright my love I'm sorry i was just so caught up earlier" lara sputters an apology even though she didn't know what she exactly did to extract such emotions from you

you shush the girl only clinging to her — hiding your face at her neck as you inhale the familiar scent of home — safety and love

"i love you" you both say — lara nuzzles into your hair, smelling that coconut and vanilla shampoo she first offered you

lara would never know what hurts you — cause you didnt even know what did hurt you, its all a part of growing together — improving and nurturing each other even if that meant hurting

[sxorpiomooon]

What do people from your professional setting/career think of you?

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Pile 1-

OOO very mysterious yet magnetic. Someone who's very reserved yet people constantly want to be close to you or be able to understand you I keep hearing "get a piece of you" haunted by beyonce is playing in my head. People might also feel like you are someone who hides alot or has alot of secrets and might always want a piece with it however this somehow just makes them respect you even more. Alot of people have their noses in your business and might evesdrope. Moon might be prominent in your S10 chart I'm seeing 1h or 8h cancer asc? Sun rahu grahan yog in some manner. I also think you don't talk much and are reserved however people naturally seem to look up to you perhaps this is due to your magnetic presence. People in your professional setting might also not have any idea of what or how you are like in your personal spaces? It's something that's very hard for them to imagine I'm seeing. They might see you as someone who's to the point and is only there to get their job done. Mostly focused on themselves and the job that they're supposed to do and indifferent to everyone and everything else.

Pile 2-

the first thing I got was virgo and then what my cards say is that people might misunderstand you alot at first not because of you but because of them? Like I just see that they will fear you already when you meet them therefore causing misinterpretations or confusions. They think of you as someone who's very quick to get things done you might be very excellent at tackling positions I'm seeing mars exalted or mars in 6h? You guys might be good in management positions as well I just see you guys storming in and getting everything done. Very quick do you guys wear heels alot or is it a metaphor. Someone who's constantly doing something or achieving something I'm constantly seeing moments "jesus does she ever chill" is what I heard. You will have alot of people working under you in the future if not now. Someone who's always on the feet sort of like if there's a problem everyone will just stare at you because they known you'll get it done.

Pile 3-

People have alot of thoughts about you I can tell even before you are there however people might be too quick to judge you or might not take you seriously at first? This might be because of your age or like you being the only woman in the workplace there is some sort of inequality that you guys might have to face and you might have people taking advantage of you because of that but it's because you'll achieve alot at a young age? This pile also has alot of people that really don't want to work? You guys should travel this is random but currently this pile should just live I'm genuinely not getting anything about a job I just feel like this pile will have a turn in their life where they might give up on these things and just learn to have fun. This pile has some cool ass people tho I see you guys travelling alot in the future and making alot of friends also self employed.

Pile 4-

The outsmarter, the mastermind, the one who wins above everything and everyone. It's like you win in the end and you manage to find your way in situations people wouldn't even survive in. You are also someone who is able to just find a way? I see people just being so impressed by you. This pile might only rarely receive compliments and it's not because you don't do good work but because you literally leave people stunned. There is alot of jealousy too like people see what you do and they are just stunned because it never occurred to them to do that. Your mind works in ways they cannot even comprehend of. This pile is filled with leaders that are visionaries and are always able to see the bigger picture. Alot of times people might also feel like you are betraying them or harming them in some way? Like you are too clever but cmon manipulation is also intelligence. You are also someone who has been through alot yet has managed to secure this position. Sun rahu conjunction in a water sign in 1h.

[tinylilacbun]

Birds of a Feather

Pairing: daddy!rafe x maybank!little!reader

Warnings: light age regression, heavy angst, major character death, jj is readers twin, no happy ending, word count: 1,3k, I apologize for all possible tears I'll cause with this...

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────

You are in shock, holding the dagger coated in blood in your trembling hand as you stare down at one of Dalia's men who just tried to choke you to death, only to be met with a stab to his side and then his chest multiple times as you managed to straddle him.

You couldn't believe what you just had done. You never imagined that things would escalate this bad, but here you are, looking at the person whose life you just took to save your own.

Even with the current sand storm going on and your lungs burning like hell you can't get yourself to move, until you feel someone grabbing your arms and hoisting you up.

Instantly you began to struggle, not hearing or recognizing the person talking to you as you're still in surviving mode.

"Hey, hey! It's me, Rafe." He snaps, grabbing your wrist tight so you can't move and do something you might regret later on. "Look at me. Here."

He lifts his one hand to show you his ring that you're all too familiar with, having turned it on his finger multiple times whenever you are anxious.

Slowly you start to calm down, your whole body shaking.

"Give me the knife..." He says slowly to not set you off, gently taking the dagger from your tight grip. "That's it. I got you."

Soon he has it pocketed away and grabs your hand, tugging you along with him somewhere safe from any more of Dalia's men and the storm.

Your brain couldn't really function at the moment, only trying to focus on Rafe as he leads you to safety.

You want so badly to regress right now but you know you can't, not now, it's far too dangerous and risky to let yourself be vulnerable to those who are possibly still after you.

"Come on, keep going. We gotta find the others." Rafe's voice occasionally pulls you out of your thoughts.

Then you suddenly hear some shout not far away from you.

"John b! Pope! Y/N!" You can make out Kie screaming repeatedly on top of her lungs, detaching yourself from Rafe's grasp as you run towards where the shouting comes from.

"Kie! Where are you?" You yell desperately, having a gut feeling that something's incredibly wrong. "JJ!"

After almost tripping over different obstacles you soon reach the others, seeing the most terrible nightmare to come true.

JJ, your twin brother, the person you've practically been attached to the hip since birth, is sitting unmoving on the ground with a dark and fresh stain of blood on the same area of his abdomen that you patched up after Groff's first attempt of killing him.

"JJ..." You whisper, falling onto your knees beside him as John B and Kie move a little to the side. "Hey, c'mon..."

You take his face in your hands, almost flinching by how cold he feels already, your eyes moving down to where he got stabbed.

"You- You gotta wake up. You hear me? JJ!" Your voice starts to crack, slightly shaking him to wake him up as you did your whole life whenever he slept almost the whole day when you and the pogues had plans.

No. It can't be. This is all just some cruel joke of his. He isn't gone. He's just messing with you. He is okay. Right? He has to be.

"Jayj...please- I can't- I can't do this without you." You begin to sob heavily, your breathing pattern uneven as you choke on your tears that uncontrollably flow down your cheeks.

You pull him against you, cradling his head against your chest as you press a kiss to the top of his sandy hair. "Pwease...you pwomised..."

This is all your fault. You shouldn't have left him alone, stick with him and keep an eye on him. You were so close to having everything. He promised that everything would be okay, he pinky swore it to you.

You fight against whoever is trying to pull you away from your brother, sobbing and talking incoherently as you only want to be close to him.

"Shh, shh, I'm here." Rafe whispers into your ear, wrapping his arms around you to immobilize you. "Shh, deep breaths."

You only manage to shake your head violently, trembling in his arms as you have to watch the others picking JJ off the ground.

Now you're sitting between Rafe's legs on the ground near the fire that Cleo set up, your back against his chest as you stare blankly at the crinkling fire, fiddling with JJ's shark tooth necklace.

You don't know what to think or let's say you can't.

You're completely in denial of what happened in the last hours, even when Rafe dug his grave, or when you carefully slid the rings - handing Kie the one he stole for during his crash out - off his fingers and the necklace around his neck, not even when you all lowered him inside the grave and watched Rafe close it up again.

Rafe finally decides to break the silence. "Groff said he was going to Lisbon. I don't know. If it was my friend...or brother." He says, adjusting his hold around you. "I'd probably just go after the guy that just killed him. Groff was already dead set on getting rid of JJ, he will definitely go after Y/N too. She's the last living heir of the Genrettes."

Nobody says anything at first, but they know there's truth behind his words. Groff won't stop until he gets what he wants, that means you're still in extreme danger as this man won't hesitate to kill you as well should he get the chance.

"He's not wrong." Kie speaks up. "You think JJ would sit here if it was one of us or worse his own sister? You think he'd do nothing?" She shakes her head, standing up.

"We all know what JJ would do." John says lowly. "He'd get even."

You get up as well, everyone looking at you as they expect you to say something but you simply walk off to where JJ is buried.

They watch after you as you walk, but decide to leave you be, knowing that this whole situation affects you more than anyone at the moment.

You stand right in front of the makeshift grave, taking a shakily breath as you lift your gaze to the night sky, seeing a particular star shining more than any other.

"M'sowwy...Jay. S-So much..." You manage to whimper out before the tears start to well up again, collapsing onto your knees. "I-I luv you..."

What JJ feared the most was being alone, and now, he's buried here in Morocco, so far from home it hurts knowing you won't even be able to visit him whenever you want to.

You keep crying until you feel someone sitting down next to you, letting the person pull you on their lap and cradle you against them.

"It's okay...just let it out." Rafe shushes you, rocking you back and forth to comfort even just the slightest bit. "Daddy's got you."

He knows you are regressed right now, hell neither him or the others can blame you. You're the last person he wants to see so broken and hopeless.

"I-I luv him...he- he pwomised." You sob into his neck and his heart hurts at the sight, hating that he can't do anything to make your pain go away.

"I know, I know." He murmurs, resting his chin on top of your head.

You keep crying until your body can't produce more tears, feeling safe in Rafe's protective hold as your breathing starts to regulate again.

"I swear...I'll go after Groff, even if it's the last thing I do. I'll make sure he suffers for everything he's put you through, and get the crown for you." He mutters against your hair, tightening his hold on you.

You can't get yourself to answer, too worn out to move a single muscle.

Groff will pay, sooner or later, there's no running away for him anymore. He'll pay.

For JJ.

[selfproclaimeddoctoroflove]

It was that time of the year it seemed. Dan Heng hadn't been a sociable person by nature, but he would never go as far as to lock himself in his room for a month, even refusing basic essentials like food and water from the express. Right?

Every time this had happened, it had seemed to take you by surprise. When you had gone to knock on his door to check on him, he had gruffly declined your invitations of conversations. At some points you would get so concerned that you would ask Himeko and Welt of they knew why this happened. Himeko would just laugh and welt would dismiss it. Pain in the ass.

But you were tired of not knowing. Of all the damn secrecy.

It had been a few weeks into his 'hibernation' as you called it, and you had confidently waltzed over to his room, banging on the door.

"Come on! Let me in! Or at least talk to me!" And although your voice was mainly flooded out by the rough banging of the door, you could still be heard fairly clearly. After a few moments of banging, your hands felt weak, and you were starting to get irritated from the lack of acknowledgment.

"Listen here if you dont open this damn door I'm going to--"

"Please.. Stop banging on the door, it's causing me a headache." Dan heng cut you threat short as his voice rang out, however it was clear he was heavily breathing. At His request, you promptly stopped banging on the door, though your irritation was still apparent. Who did he think he was? He finally spoke to you just to tell you to stop because you were worried? You were growing more furious as you balled up your fists.

"Are you serious? I've been so damn worried about you. You lock yourself in your damn room for weeks on end. How do you not expect me to start banging on your door?" You stated with a cold tone. Then you heard a breathy moan escape from the room. You stood in shock for a moment.. Moan... Locked in room.. Could he be?

"You masturbate for a whole damn month!?" You gasp at the thought of it. How the hell is that even possible? A month of non stop jacking off? He must be insane!

No sound was audible from the other side of the door until Dan heng spoke up again, "... Have you ever heard of heat?"

"Yea. Its the thing that makes you sweat."

"Not that heat. The kind where people get... You know..." His voice trailed off and the embarrassment was clear as glass.

"Oh. Your going through heat? That kind of heat... Well we're friends, right? Shouldn't friends help friends?"

And that's where it all went "up hill" (the hills not the only thing that went up, that's for sure.)

You were kissing Dan Heng ferociously like someone gone mad, trying to match his intensity, your lips were together like two ink smudges draw to close together, his hand slowly made itself a home on your waist as you straddled your legs around his lap.

"Aeon, I could just eat you whole.." He could hardly get his words out though, and had to make a effortless effort to try to pull away to speak, even though you both knew he'd come back to your lips like a starved man.

"You might not be able to eat me, but you sure can eat me out," you suggested through breathy moans, a sultry smile spreading across your face. You tightened your legs around his lap and moved to hands up to grab his face and coddle it with a intensity so that it seemed less like coddling and more like man handling.

By now the atmosphere was totally different from usual. Unlike the usual calm and soothing vibe of the room, the room was filled with unspoken desires and fantasies. Ones you have committed to fulfilling.

"Hah... Your right," his words came out in a low, dangerous whisper. It didn't take him to long to maneuver your pants off of you, leaving you in only soaked undergarments. "Your so wet..." he pointed out bluntly, using his thumb to circle your clit through your panties, making you loudly moan out in pleasure.

"Aren't you captain obvious.?" You shot out snarkily. With that, he moved your panties out of the way to directly touch your clit, moving his fingers around it and maneuvering your folds.

"If you keel talking like that, I won't do much more then this," he stated, still playing with your folds. He was incredibly skilled with his hands, having already made you moan out several times.

"Fine, I'm sorry... Please just.. Please.." Your voice was hardly audible however through the heights of pleasure you were reaching. You wondered if march could hear you.

Suddenly, he inserted a finger into your wet pussy, and due to how soaked you already were, his finger slid in like a knife through warm butter. Slowly he started to curl his finger. With his rich technique, he soon hit your G-spot, making you moan out uncontrollably in pleasure. As he slowly uncurled his finger, taking it out, there was a noticeable amount of sticky white cum on it. Underneath yourself, you could feel the sheets around your clit getting soaked with cum.

"Damn it.. I'm sorry, I didn't mean.." However your monologue was quickly cut short. "Don't stress it. I can get new bedsheets. And anyway, I should be thanking you." He said before licking the cum off his fingers, "let's do it again sometime."

[dollfacefantasy]

hey gorgeous can i request frank making the reader squirt, like the reader was convinced she never could til frank showed her otherwise.

frank castle x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, squirting a/n: yess thank you for the request <3

with the way frank has you folded up right now, you're shocked nothing has broken. either you or your bed, which knocks against the wall with each slam of his hips.

he has your thighs pinned to your abdomen, your feet tapping the headboard every couple seconds. that combined with your whiny moans and frank's grunts, you're definitely getting a noise complaint tomorrow.

under normal circumstances you would have reminded him to quiet down. but you're so fucked out right now. your eyes have gone glassy, drool leaks out from the corner of your mouth. what your neighbors can hear is the least of your concerns at the moment.

frank swipes some of that saliva away with his thumb before returning his hand to where it was wrapped around the back of your knee. you've been doing this for hours. round after round, he just couldn't seem to get enough of you tonight.

you whimper and arch yourself off the bed. he's still going so fast and hard for someone who's been going so long. you weakly grab at his biceps for some form of support, but it only takes a second for your arms to fall back onto the mattress.

"frank..." you whine, your face contorting with pleasure, "fuck, fuck, fuck."

he watches you with lidded eyes. a deep puff of air seeps from his lungs at the sight of you beneath him.

"i know, baby. i know. you're taking it so well. being so brave for me," he praises, voice rumbling with a hint of teasing.

you want to think of a response equally as mocking, but you just can't. not when he's fucking the thoughts right out of your head.

you squirm a little as your breathing turns to panting. you just wanna find a little relief from the onslaught of ecstasy his dick is beating into you.

he won't have it though. he tugs you sharply by the hips. a loud, embarrassing squelch comes from between your legs. you squeal in response. you try to writhe some more, but the closer angle keeps you pinned beneath his weight. your eyes roll back and you actually think you might pass out for a few seconds.

he reaches down with one of his hands, slotting his fingers against your clit. the thick digits swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves in rapid strokes. more strangled moans erupt from your throat. you clutch at the sheets for some reprieve but it doesn't work.

but then you start to feel something different in the pit of your stomach. you cry out, and your eyes flutter as you try to register it. the tip of his cock is just pounding up into that sweet, spongy spot inside of you. it feels kind of like you might piss yourself if you're honest. the rapid hammering of his length combined with the rubbing of his fingers has you losing control.

panic surges through you at the thought. reaching up, you try to tap at his chest and alert him, but you can't get the words out and he's lost in his own bliss. your mewls become more choked. your muscles tense up. you try desperately to hold back, but you can feel yourself approaching it whether you like it or not.

"fuck! i'm gonna cum, i'mgonnacum, i'm gonna-" you say, words slurring together.

he just keeps up his efforts. "go 'head, sweetheart. cum again for me. let it all out," he rasps.

with one more deep push of his hips, you shriek. your vision blacks out as your head snaps back against the pillows. you spasm like you're possessed. your body jerks and twitches beneath his. it's all instinct though. your conscious mind turns off for a few minutes.

vaguely, you feel the warmth of his release flood your insides for another time. you feel his thrusts begin to slow and his noises grow less frequent. both of you are huffing breaths in.

you come to as he slips out of you. you whine, the feeling of emptiness jarring after so much stimulation. but then he lets out a low whistle and chuckles. you pop your head up, confused about the noise. he looks down at you with a lazy smile and shakes his head.

"what?" you ask.

"you made a real mess of me, baby. that's what," he teases.

your brows furrow. you still don't understand. you're about to ask him what's that supposed to mean before you notice how his abs shine, how they drip with a clear fluid you can only assume came out of you. that's when you realize what happened.

your eyes widen. heat creeps up into your cheeks.

"what's that look for?" he asks, amused by your shyness.

"nothing... i just didn't know i could do that," you say.

"oh, you've never done that before?" he asks. a cocky look fills his eyes as he leans forward to peck your lips. "only for me, huh?"

you nod while looking into his eyes.

"well it's not gonna be the only time," he teases and nuzzles his nose against yours. he gives you one more kiss before rising off the bed and tugging you by the ankle in that direction. "c'mon, messy girl. let's get you cleaned up."

even though you're physically exhausted, you couldn't be happier to roll out of bed and trot after him to the bathroom.

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Starting ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

It's been years since you have released a song or even made a public appearance, many people thought you might have been suffering from some issues, well not issue it was more of a feverish dream for you because you got the most perfect man you could have ever dreamt off , he was the perfect ideal man , the man that girls would be on knees for , has fallen head over heels for you.

6 years ago

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

He was the CEO of Gucci, not like you had fallen for him because of his money, because you yourself were a billionaire. You made your fortune from advertisements, concerts, acting, and of course, your actual profession: singing. You were a famous singer with 14 million followers on X, and you had seen your fair share of people try to use your fame for their own gain.

But there he was, the CEO of one of the most prestigious fashion houses in the world. And when he spoke, he was nothing like you expected.

"Hey," he awkwardly spoke, looking like he wasn’t quite sure what to say.

You were taken aback. The CEO of Gucci, the man everyone revered, and here he was, a bit shy? You raised an eyebrow, not quite sure if you should feel flattered or confused.

"Hi, I'm so glad to see you. You wanted me to sponsor your new design?" You cut straight to the point, your voice firm and confident.

He gave you a half-smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. He gestured toward the other side of the table, inviting you to sit. As you did, you could feel his gaze on you intent, searching, almost like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

You clenched your fist under the table. If he said anything stupid, anything that even remotely resembled a hidden agenda, you were going to punch him out of pure instinct. But instead of asking for something ridiculous, he just looked at you with a quiet sincerity.

You raised an eyebrow, not sure if you should be relieved or on edge. "You can talk," you said, trying to break the silence that was starting to make you uncomfortable.

He shifted in his seat, looking almost embarrassed. "I just wanted to say... you’re very direct. I respect that."

You gave him a look, not really sure where this was going. You weren’t here for small talk; you had enough of that in the industry. And you weren’t about to let him charm you with pleasantries.

"I’m not here for games, I’m here for business," you replied, your voice steady, but a little less harsh than it had been before.

He nodded, then slid the design toward you. "This is our new collection," he explained, his voice calmer now, more measured. "I believe it’s something you’d want to wear, and I’d love for you to sponsor it."

You glanced down at the design, your breath catching in your throat. The clothing was breathtaking sleek, elegant, and everything you’d ever dreamed of in a piece of fashion. It was beautiful, in a way that made you almost forget you were sitting across from the CEO of Gucci.

You couldn't stop imagining yourself wearing it, how it would outshine everything else, how you’d look in it when you walked into a room. The idea of wearing something so exquisite made your heart skip a beat.

For a moment, you forgot about all the times people had tried to take advantage of you, the sponsors who had only wanted you for your face, your name, your influence. This was different. You could feel it.

You looked up at him, your voice quieter now, a little unsure. "This design... it’s amazing."

His gaze softened slightly as he met your eyes. "I’m glad you think so. I believe it’s the perfect representation of your style."

You couldn’t tell if it was his honesty or the way he spoke that made you feel a little warmer, a little more vulnerable. You weren’t used to this men who didn’t treat you like a stepping stone to their own success. He wasn’t pushing. He wasn’t trying to manipulate the situation.

For the first time, you felt like you could actually trust someone in this business. Not that you’d let your guard down completely, but he was... different.

You cleared your throat, the tension in your chest easing just a little. "You’ve got yourself a deal."

He gave you another small smile, this one more genuine than the last, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

And that’s how your story with him went. You sponsored his designs, and they were a massive hit. The more you worked together, the more your worlds collided projects, meetings, late-night brainstorming sessions. What started as business slowly turned into something else.

You hadn’t even noticed it at first, but you were falling for him. It wasn’t his wealth, his position, or the fame he made you feel heard, valued. He wasn’t just the CEO of Gucci, he was someone who genuinely understood you in ways others didn’t.

Before you knew it, you were no longer thinking about the next deal. You were thinking about him. And just like that, you realized somewhere along the way, you had let yourself fall for him.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

One random night at your house, yes, your house. You and Ken had gotten close enough for it to feel natural hanging out at each other’s places, exchanging stories, your worlds blending into something you never expected. He was always the stoic, reserved man, and tonight, something felt different about him.

When it was finally time to leave, you flashed him your usual cheerful smile. "Bye, Ken. I’ll see you tomorrow."

"Uh, alright. I’ll see you tomorrow..." he said, but as he opened the door, he paused. For a moment, he stood there, staring ahead before locking the door again, his hand still on the handle.

"I think I should call off for this day," he muttered.

"Call off?" You blinked, confused. That was strange. He was always so focused, so dedicated. He never took time off from work. "Are you kidding, Ken? You never call in. Is that what you believe is happening here?"

You teased him, but he just bit his lip nervously. For a few seconds, there was nothing but silence. You could see him wrestling with something in his head, something heavy.

Then, he looked at you, his gaze intense. "I’m in love with you."

You froze. "WHAT?"

"I worshipped you," he continued, his voice shaky but raw. "I grew jealous of anyone you spoke to. I wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I was with you. Even when you were away from me, you were still present in my work. If I never told you this, you would’ve never understood. Hell, I hardly understood it myself... But I knew. And I knew then I have seen perfection face to face."

...

And that's how it was..

You took a hiatus and spent 6 years with him in peace but lately...

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Your fans were going absolutely bizarre. No updates, no news,it was driving them insane. Rumors started swirling, some even claiming you were dying from cancer, which, pfttt, was totally fake. But honestly? You couldn’t care less. You were just too damn happy to notice.

You were living in your own little world, all wrapped up in your boyfiee, Ken. No need for social media drama, no pressure to keep up with anyone else. It was just you and him, lost in your bubble of laughter, late-night talks, and all the little moments that made everything feel right.

People could speculate all they wanted, but you? You were in your happy place, and nothing outside of that mattered.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Six years later, everything seemed perfect. You and Ken were still going strong, your relationship thriving like it always had. But lately, something was off. Nanami wasn’t acting like himself.

He wasn’t as excited to see you anymore, not with the usual spark. It was as if he knew you’d been waiting. Waiting for him. You could feel it in the way he’d look at you sometimes distant, like his mind was somewhere else.

He was overworking again, and it wasn’t just the usual hustle. This time, it was different. It was frequent, and you could see the toll it was taking on him.

But despite all that, there was one thing that made you pauset he ring. The diamond ring. You noticed it on his desk one evening, tucked away in a small box, and for a brief moment, you almost forgot everything. It was for you. Only you.

You couldn’t help but feel bored, too bored, to be honest. Everything had been so perfect, but now there was an unsettling calmness in the air. So, you logged into your account, needing a distraction. Instantly, thousands of DMs flooded in, along with rumors and speculations about your life. Your fans were starting to question everything where had you been? What was really happening?

It was time to make things right. After all, they were still your fans. They deserved the truth, or at least, a little peace of mind. So, with a deep breath, you began typing. It was time to clear the air, time to remind them why they had supported you all these years.

You owed it to them. And to yourself.

Then you sighed and went back to do some chores , after a few minutes you saw retweets and dms , your wivies I mean your.. friends were shocked by this news too

After you saw the retweets, the messages flooding in, and the happiness of your fans who finally felt like they had answers for your sudden disappearance, you felt a wave of satisfaction. You had cleared the air, given them something to hold onto. It felt good to know they understood, to know they were still there for you.

But... there were still two people left to explain yourself to.

Shoko. Yep, she was a singer too, but she had only debuted a few songs,three or four, to be exact. She wasn’t as popular as you, but she had her own following with around a million fans. Her music? Damn good. Some might call her underrated, but honestly, you thought of her as uthaime,a hidden gem in the music world.

You two were inseparable as kids, more like two peas in a pod. You’d been through everything together, always there for each other. And who knows? There might’ve been a kiss or two in the past. Couldn’t blame her, couldn’t blame yourself either, you guys were hot.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Comment to get tagged!

@lavnder311 @hel1nn @blushedcheri @kazupop

[youknowwho-mustnotbenamed]

February 01 - Honey | word count: 672 | @black-brothers-microfic

They are sitting in the common room, a bottle of firewhiskey making it’s rounds. Regulus had already regretted agreeing to come when he first entered the Room of Requirement to find his brother and his friends already gathered around the fireplace. But he had already been spotted, and he could hardly deny his boyfriend as he made grabby hands to pull Regulus onto his lap. That’s where he sits now, in one of the two chairs while his brother and Remus occupy the other, leaving Barty, Evan, Dorcas, Marlene, and Peter on spare cushions and pillows on the ground.

He rests his head back against James’ shoulder, letting himself get lost in the feeling of James’ fingers in his hair, gently soothing the building ache. He’s been undeniably lucky with James, who somehow always manages to sense what Regulus needs, and gives it to him without question.

“What’s the worse injury you’ve had?” Marlene asks, and Regulus instantly tenses up. Out of all the questions that could have come from her mouth, it is the one that a majority of the people in this room would find uncomfortable. “I sprained my collarbone while playing rugby in primary school.”

“I fell from a tre—wait, no. My worst was when that bludger knocked me from my broom and I broke like ten bones.” James says, almost boasting as though the memory of that day doesn’t put an ache in Regulus’ bones. He had been worried sick, afraid the other boy might not wake up, or if he did, that the damage would be too severe to ever play Quidditch again.

“Mrs. Norris caught me while in animagus form last year.” Peter shudders. “I still have the scars from her teeth.”

“I think we all know what mine is.” Remus says, voice heavy. Sirius shifts in his seat, curling around Remus the best he can, as though that will shield him from the monster living in his own body. He tucks his face into Remus’ neck, muttering something there. Cheeks burning as he unwillingly intrudes in a private moment, Regulus turns to James.

“Potion explosion because somebody wasn’t paying attention.”

“You can hardly blame me when you are far more interesting than any potion we could have been brewing.”

“Uh, huh.”

“My blood oath with Evan.” Barty says, drawing everybody’s attention to him. He merely grins, wiggling his eyebrows at Evan.

“Your what?” How could he have missed two of the most important people in his live taking a blood oath? His curiosity lasts for as long as it takes for the devilish grin to materialize on Barty’s face. “You know what, I don’t want to know.”

“What about you, Sirius?”

“I think… oh! The time I was attacked by a nest of hornets.”

“I’m sorry, you were what?”

“I haven’t told you guys this one? Oh, its great!”

“It’s not great, Sirius. It was stupid and unnecessarily risky.”

“Well now I have to know.” James insists.

“Well, little Reggie here wanted honey on his toast, but we didn’t have any.”

“And instead of asking Kreacher like anybody else would have, the idiot went and—”

Sirius reaches over and clamps his hand over Regulus’ mouth. “Don’t spoil the story. Stop licking me, Reg. Anyway, I was, I don’t know, nine? ten? either way, there was this bee’s nest in the garden. Nobody ever told me there were different kinds of bees, let alone different kinds of nests. I thought they were all the same thing. Honey came from bees, and bees lived in that nest. So, I climbed on a nearby bench and pulled it down.”

“Sirius.” James gasps through laughter. “Why?”

“I thought I was being a good brother! I had no idea I was going to be attacked.”

Regulus pries Sirius’ hand from his mouth, “The idiot was bedridden for a week.”

“It was worth it.”

“How? What part of that entire incident was ‘worth it’?”

“We got to spend that whole week together, and mother couldn’t do anything about it.”

[hockeyboistrash]

As a cat mum of two I had this idea pop into my head. This is purely self indulgent. The cats in the story are based on my two and will use their names (Winston and Louis)

Your boyfriend Joseph meeting your cats for the first time.

You were nervous. It was the first time any boyfriend of yours was going to meet your cats. Not only did you not know how they were going to act but you didn't know how Joseph would feel about them. You knew your cats could be a bit much at times. They were kittens after all.

"Don't be alarmed if Winston runs away from you. I don't think he likes men much. Louis has his days, sometimes he sits on your knee, other times he sits on the arm of the sofa." You told Joseph as you walked up to your front door. He couldn't help but smile at you, endeared by your worry. He could tell this meeting meant a lot to you.

"Y/N, it'll be fine, okay?" Joseph assured you, reaching for your hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. "Besides I brought treats so I'll just bribe them." He grinned and it was contagious, your lips pulling up into a smile of your own.

"Thank you. I know it's stupid but it's just- they're important to me and- and so are you. I want you to get along." You admitted, your voice quiet as you felt vulnerable, your heart on your sleeve.

"You're important to me too." Joseph said, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. "And it's not stupid. I love how much you want this to go well."

You looked down, heat rising to your cheeks. You haven't felt like this about anyone before. The last guy you went on a date with thought it was weird you had cats, the connotations of crazy cat ladies at the forefront of his mind. You were going to give up on finding love but then you met Joseph. It was the second date where you told him about Winston and Louis. He immediately asked to see pictures, asking you a million questions about them. It made your heart full at how attentive he was.

You walked into your apartment, Joseph following behind. It was quiet, something you were usually met with after coming home from work. It was a tell-tale sign they were asleep on your bed. Like clockwork, a few seconds later you would hear chirping running towards you, their way of saying hello to you.

Tonight, though, instead of Winston running up to you for fuss, he stopped when he saw your boyfriend, eyes wide like he's trying to decipher who this stranger was. He then ran to the cat tree, hiding in the enclosed section. Louis remained unbothered, finding his usual spot on the couch.

"I'll start dinner. Will you be okay in here?" You asked, biting your lip slightly.

"We'll be fine. Me and Louis are gonna hang out. Aren't we bud?" Joseph grinned, gently stroking Louis's head who started purring at the contact. You gave Louis one last head scratch before doing the same to Winston, whispering reassuring words to him.

You didn't take long putting the dinner on, not wanting to leave Joseph alone with the kittens for too long. You didn't hear any raised voices or crashes so you took that as a positive sign. Although normally with kittens silence is just as bad as noise.

The sight you were met with made you melt. Winston and Louis were both curled up on Joseph's knee purring, his hands gently stroking them. The cats were getting big now but still managed to both fit on his knees, with room to spare. You silently took a photo of your boyfriend, wanting to remember this moment for a long time.

"They must really like you." You said, making your way over to couch.

"I might have put the charm on. It worked on you so it was bound to work on them." Joseph grinned at you. You shook your head slightly, letting out a soft laugh, thinking back to how Joseph's words were like honey to you. "See nothing to worry about."

And he was right. You didn't have to worry about your cats not liking the man you love and can see spending the rest of your life with. You didn't have to pick between them like you would have in previous relationships.

[sunshinesickies]

Feveruary Day 5— “Could you just hold me?”— Jinx x Reader

Based on a request. My first time writing Jinx! I low-key ran out of motivation today and it’s not proof read, but I hope it’s okay, I just wanna do my baby justice

It started about a week ago, your suspicions that your girlfriend was coming down with a cold. At first it was just a few small comments here and there about small headaches or being achy, but nothing even close to outright admitting she might be getting sick.

Back when you’d first started dating, and even before that when you were friends, there had been a few times when you had brought up your concerns about whatever bugs she’d managed to catch at the time, but you’d learned your lesson quickly that being taken care of like that was no where near her comfort zone.

By now, Jinx had become more used to vocalizing her needs and quite often complains about her gadgets and whatnot, but what she still isn’t used to, is vulnerability. Especially when it comes to sickness. She has no problems taking care of you when you’re feeling under the weather, but she herself doesn’t get sick often, and if she does, she rarely lets you know.

So you treaded carefully. But that was a while ago, and you and Jinx have come really far in your relationship and how you go about being with each other. Still, this whole week you’ve been tentative, unsure of how to approach the subject that your girlfriend was very clearly sick and should definitely be resting, not pulling all-nighters to work on her projects.

A few days ago you’d decided that for now, you weren’t going to mention her growing cold unless it got drastically worse, and that for now, you’d just make sure to do little things to make her life easier. Things like reminding her to eat since she often skips meals when’s she’s deep in her work, or bringing her a fresh glass of water, claiming you ‘just want her to stay hydrated’, and buying boxes of tissues and leaving them inconspicuously where you know she’ll find them if she needs them.

Your hope was that eventually, she’d give in and come to you about her illness. But now, almost a week later, you’d begun to believe it just wasn’t something she was comfortable with. You hope that one day she’ll invite you in completely, though you know it will take time, and you’re okay with that. Because there’s no one else you’d rather be with, no one else you rather be there for, and you know she loves you. So you’ll be patient, because you love her too.

Your attention is pulled away from your thoughts when you distantly hear a harsh sneeze followed by a muttered ‘bless me’ coming from Jinx’s workshop. You roll your eyes slightly with a small chuckle. You’d lost track of how many times that had happened even just today, though you took note that Jinx blessed herself out loud every single time without fail. It made you smile each time you learned a new little quirk of your girlfriend’s. A moment later you hear the muffled sounds of her blowing her nose, which you really hope she’s doing so in some of the tissues you’d strategically placed earlier.

You return to your own activity, doing your best to focus and distract yourself from the desire to just storm into the workshop, scoop up your stubborn girlfriend, wrap her in a blanket like a burrito and hold her until she’s better. She’ll come to you when she’s ready. You remind yourself gently.

A few hours later and you’ve finished your work and are now cozied up on Jinx’s old battered couch with a soft blanket, reading a book. A sudden BOOM makes your head jerk up from the pages, your senses immediately going on high alter.

Random explosions and sudden loud noises are something you’ve grown used to, you are dating Jinx after all, but something about this one felt off to you. Not to mention it was quickly followed by a string of unhinged cursing. Another explosive sound echos from the other room and you’re quickly on your feet, jumping up and sprinting to the source.

You burst into the workshop to find Jinx in the middle of what seems to be an emotional meltdown—most likely caused by her sickness, you guess. Once you see she’s not in any active danger, you wait a moment to see if she’ll calm down. She’s swearing up a storm, pacing in front of her workbench and grumbling angrily towards herself and at whatever she’s holding in her hands.

You decide to make yourself known when she slumps down on her stool, tossing her gadget across the workbench with an exasperated huff. “Jinx? Babe you alright, I heard some booms.” You try to speak as softly as possible as to not to startle her. She turns quickly to watch as you further enter the room, her hands pulling at her long braids which are messy and becoming undone.

“oh, hey toots. Everything’s just peachy.” She drawls sarcastically. “And haven’t you ever heard an explosion before? I mean have ya met me?” She tries to deflect but you give her a pointed look. “Jinx.” Is all you have to say and right then, you can see her resolve leaving as her shoulder sag even more and she gazes towards the ground.

“Jus’ a little mishap…” She gestures vaguely in the direction her invention rolled off to. “…can’t get the stupid thing to work, maybe I need to sleep on it.” She mutters, obviously annoyed at herself. You calmly close the distance between you, but leave enough space so she doesn’t feel crowded by your presence.

“You, admitting you need sleep? Never thought the day would come.” You joke lightly to keep yourself from showing your growing worry. Now that you’re closer, you can see smudges of gunpowder and oil all over her skin and clothes, probably from the explosion. Your heart clenches as the thought of her getting impacted by it, at least she didn’t seem hurt.

But she is without a doubt sick. Her normally pale face is alarmingly ghostly yet her cheeks are flushed a deep pink in contrast, and her forehead is practically dripping with sweat from working herself too hard, and from the fever you know she has.

She smiles slightly at your words but her light chuckle quickly turns into a deep coughing fit that has her doubled over and you rushing to rub her back and hold her steady. “Jinx” You repeat when she’s done and she looks up at you, her amethyst eyes watery and drooping with exhaustion. You cup the side of her face with you hand, frowning deeply at the amount of heat you feel.

“Let’s take a break, hmm? Get ya cleaned up?” You suggest gently and you can see her mind spinning, calculating her next move. With the softness in your tone, and the tenderness of your thumb brushing her cheek, she finally gives in, allowing you to lead her to the bathroom. You sit her down on the closed toilet seat and turn to the sink, wetting a cloth with warm water and a little soap.

Silently, she lets you clean off her face, arms, and neck. You could have had her get in the shower, but that’s a battle for another time, you decided as you watched her eyes flutter between open and closed while you worked. When you’re done, you guide Jinx to your makeshift bed, letting her change out of her dirty clothes while you grab her a glass of water.

When you return, she’s already in bed and you hide your surprise that you didn’t have to convince her further. She watches you with tired eyes as you set the water on the nightstand for later before you sit on the edge of the bed. “Is there anything else I can do to uh…” You don’t exactly know how to phrase it, but she nods as you trail off.

“Could, could you maybe just hold me?” Jinx whispers so low and so shyly you almost don’t hear it, but of course you do, because all your love and attention is on her. You smile softly as you nod and immediately move to get into bed with her. “Of course, babes.” She wastes no time snuggling close to your side, resting her head to your chest with a deep sigh.

You wrap your arms tightly around her, grounding her to the moment, and you feel her body soften as she finally allows herself to start relaxing. You stay like this for so long, and she’s so quiet, that you’re sure she’s asleep when you whisper the question that’s been on your mind all week.

“Why is it so hard for you to let yourself be sick, love?” You murmur, your tone one of pure curiosity, with the intent to understand, not a hint of accusation anywhere. She hears you, a breathes in deeply, shifting slightly in your hold. You’re taken aback when she answers quietly a moment later. “I-I dunno…but I think ‘m working on it.” Her words are soft and honest.

“I know you are. I’m here for you Jinx.” You hum, placing a kiss to her blue hair as you hold her slightly shivering form closer. She settles back down, her eyes still closed, but a few minutes later you feel her chest rise unevenly against you. She attempts to pull away but you hold her gently in place, a silent reassurance that its okay.

“Heh’EsSShhhuh! HhHih—hiHSSchHhihww!!” She releases two strong sneezes against your shirt then gives a harsh sniffle. “ugh bless me” she murmurs as you hum the words at the same time.

You look down at her, amused confusion in your expression. “You do that a lot.” You comment lightly. Your girlfriend looks up at you, her tired eyes imploring you to expand. “You bless yourself every time you sneeze.” You explain your observation.

“Oh yeah, I guess I do. I don’t think I even realize I’m doing it, it’s just a force of habit from back when I was…alone so much.” She trails off quietly, gaze shifting down. You hold her a touch tighter.

“Well…you’re not anymore. And as your girlfriend it’s now my job to say it.” You smile at her with a soft toothy grin. Jinx lets out a rough chuckle. “You’re a dork.” She playfully roles her eyes. “Buuutttt I’m your dork…” you pause a moment when you feel her chest rise slightly against yours again and for a moment time freezes as you marvel at her adorable pre-sneeze face before she’s tucking her pink nose away from your face.

“NuhHnnPptsshhiiww!” She sneezes once more before her nose finally seems to be done. She groans into your chest. “…and bless you.” You hum gently as she sniffles wetly. “Thandks.” Jinx mumbles, voice thick with congestion as she shifts around a little until she’s comfortable again.

“ughhh I feel like absolute crap.” She complains and you have to hold back an eye roll. “I know. But maybe you’ll let me take care of you now? I think you pushed yourself a litte too much this week. You need to rest.” You say, trying your new grounds and she hums in agreement.

“Fineeee. But only ‘cuz I love you. Well, and ‘cuz that stupid gadget refuses to work.” She mumbles, followed by a loud yawn.

You chuckle lightly as your hand moves to start running along her back under her loose shirt. “Thank you baby. Now just sleep, Jinx. I’ll be here.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Heyyy!! It is I again! I love all your stories <3 all of them are chef kiss and make me blush 🤌🏼😍

I have a bit of a request that I thought in my mind, but only you could do it better.

Can you probably make one of Reader being a maid and she was given by Dimistrescu and sent to work for Donna. Reader does her job properly, cleaning around and distracting Angie, but one day she accidentally enters Donna's room and sees her face. Donna notices just in time before Reader hides behind the door and leaves. After that Donna starts treating her much more strict and worse. She pulls Reader's hair when she does something wrong or yells at her; making her life miserable. Donna starts to become the monster rumors say. This scares and stresses Reader to the point where she tries to run from Donna, but Donna reacts before she thinks and uses her nightmare powers on Reader. Turns out that Reader's fear was to disappoint Donna because she's always been a disappointment to her family. Donna realizes that what she was doing was very wrong and asks for forgiveness. It takes time, but eventually Reader forgives her and they start to find each other again. This time, they find more than friendship and fall in love. They confess and kiss !! And cherry on top: THEY MAKE LOVE ! Donna assures Reader that she'll never disappoint her no matter what she does and Reader assures her that she's beautiful!

Ok! Now you make the magic!!

Angst with happy ending! (It can be g!p if u want)

Love u!

Yess!!! I'm sorry about the delay, but thanks for your request!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!

The monster they talked about

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, maid!! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, a bit of smut, Minors DNI, angst, dark themes, dark Donna, but happy ending

Word count: 8,983

Summary: She changed, she became the monster people say she was...

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

 “Hi,” you say in a whisper, leaning towards her, letting yourself fall on her shoulders while your lips delicately rest on her neck. “Hi, my love.”

“(Y/N).” A sigh leaves her lips and you smile, closing your eyes when her hands rest on yours, caressing them in the same way they worked the fabric of a small dress a moment ago.

“I hope I'm not disturbing you,” you say shortly after, letting her lips capture yours quickly, blurring that silent moment in the best possible way. “I thought you might like some tea.”

“Mm, you’ve read my mind, tesoro,” Donna answers, inviting you to sit in an adjoining chair, looking at you briefly.

“You forget that I was your maid once, darling,” you joke, making her understand that you know each of her quirks, each one of her habits.

“Yes, well,” she answers dryly, as if that simple fact hurt her. “But you're not anymore.”

“Mm…” you joke again, looking up at the ceiling and pretending to think deeply. “Oh, that's true.”

Donna smiles and shakes her head, unable to suppress the urge to kiss you again, this time more slowly, enjoying the taste of your lips before it was altered by the tea.

“Grazie,” the lady sighs when you hand her a cup, nodding gratefully.

You shrug it off and frown, remembering that word and concentrating to repeat it.

“Gra… Grazie?” you say shyly, earning a tender smile from her. “I'm improving my Italian”

The lady in black shakes her head and laughs discreetly, a blush adorning her cheeks.

“If you say so…” she murmurs, looking away, urging you to give her a gentle punch on the shoulder with a look of false offense.

“Hey, I'm really improving,” you protest, pushing her playfully before settling yourself lovingly on her lap.

Your eyes meet as her hand brushes your hair away from your face. It's a silent moment, but it says more than any words. The laughter, the kisses, the words of love... all of it was worthless without those intense glances, without those expressive silences.

A slightly deeper kiss attacks your lips, which react as if they were tickles, forcing you to laugh mischievously.

“(Y/N),” Donna says, calling your attention and kissing you one last time. “Your tea is going to get cold.”

“Yes, yes,” you say, reluctantly moving away from her lap and returning to your usual spot, sighing at the lack of the warmth of her body on yours .

“What do you think?” the doll maker asks, displaying a new dress for one of her creations, one that you observed closely while taking a sip.

“It's perfect,” you whisper, caressing the fabric with your fingers and leaving the cup on the table.

As you do so, you notice a small groove, a mark that made the porcelain of the cup somewhat unpleasant.

Your eyes travel to the handle of the cup, stuck to the rest clumsily, revealing a crack from which screams, nightmares and something you wanted to forget seemed to come out.

“(Y/N),” the lady says, frowning, as if that moment had lasted too long.

“Oh, sorry, I was…” you apologize awkwardly, shaking your head. “… I was… nevermind.”

The ventriloquist nods unsurely and goes back to her sewing machine, leaving a knot in your stomach, something inside you that was crying out to be heard. After a few moments of silence that was no longer comfortable, you decided to share your thoughts with her.

“Donna,” you whisper with a delicate tone, making her turn around and nod patiently to listen to you.

“Mm?” she murmurs, looking at you attentively.

“Everything has changed a lot, hasn't it?” you comment.

“What do you mean?”

“I was just remembering how we got to this point, to what we are now,” you say distractedly, playing nervously with one of the dolls on the table.

Donna stops and the lack of the machine's noise creates an awkward moment. The lady lowers her head and begins to move her hands erratically, playing with them.

“Don’t do it,” she says with a serious tone, gaining enough courage to extend one of her hands towards yours. “Now everything is perfect, there is no need to…”

“I think that…” you interrupt, caressing her fingers little by little, with the memories stalking your mind. “… I think there is nothing wrong with remembering. After all, here we are now, everything is fine.”

“Do you really think so?” Donna questions, with an unsure look while you kiss her softly.

“Mm, of course,” you affirm, nodding at the same time.

“I wasn't fair to you, (Y/N),” the lady whispers, lowering her gaze, gently removing your hands from her face.

 “Hey, do you know that before the incident you already seemed terribly sexy to me?” you joke, nudging her to dispel the demons from her mind.

“Cosa? Oh, um... really? You hadn't even seen my face,” she says, smiling tenderly at your attempt to make her feel better.

“Really,” you sigh, traveling with your mind to those first days, where it all began:

Some months ago…

You were never someone special, just a young woman who was born in the wrong place, at the right time. Life in the village was difficult for anyone, but for you... it was much worse.

Your family didn't see you as a blessing or as someone to love and protect. No matter what you did, they would never be proud of you.

Screams and demands were part of your days, turning your life into something like a macabre spectacle of impositions and disappointment.

Knowing that you would fail your family, you decided to be practical, and act in the only way that would allow you to get away from them.

Thus, you became a maid at Dimitrescu Castle. A much sought-after job, but one for which you had a great deal of experience. After all, all you had done for as long as you could remember was to serve.

The difference was that at least you wouldn't receive scorn or impossible demands, but a salary with which you could keep your family quiet.

The plan went as well as you had hoped, and your ability to please and attend to the needs of Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters ensured you the recognition you never had from your family.

But life seemed to laugh at you, as that illusion of routine and stability disappeared the day Alcina talked to you.

Your life changed again. Your skills and your open and outgoing personality led the lady in white to choose you for another task, a very different one.

You would no longer serve Dimitrescu, but her lonely and mysterious sister, the youngest of the Lords, Donna Beneviento.

There had always been rumors about each of the Lords in the village, but Lady Beneviento got the worst of it. She was a dark figure, covered by a black veil, feared by all, and loved by no one.

Many villagers didn't even consider the lady in black a person, but a monster. You never decided to let yourself be carried away by the rumors of the village, and as you headed to the old mansion, you told yourself that it was all an exaggeration. After all, Alcina and her daughters weren't as terrible as they said, at least not to you.

Donna was definitely not an ordinary woman. Her black veil hid her face, and her refusal to communicate with you made her even more mysterious.

Your tasks were quite similar, so you wouldn't have many problems. The only difference was that instead of having to entertain three nervous, unhinged girls, you would have to do it with Angie, the lady's living doll.

Cleaning, cooking, playing with Angie... They were certainly not complicated tasks, and you did them without a problem, always keeping an eye on that dark shadow, that black veil you sometimes thought was watching you.

As time went by, the few words the lady addressed to you increased, as if she herself were gaining confidence, or rather, getting used to your presence.

Lady Beneviento was an unstable, sick and introverted woman, but you had the ability to adapt to any situation, learning to deal with her crises and to keep quiet when you had to.

It was a challenge, but as the months went by, you had overcome it. Yes, the rumors about Donna seemed exaggerated.

 “You cannot put two circles on the board at the same time,” you explained, making it impossible for the Angie doll to correctly understand the game of tic-tac-toe.

“Yes I can,” the doll protested, crossing your arms. “Those are my rules.”

“Rules? I didn’t know you cared about rules,” you said with a smile, erasing the game from the old blackboard, blowing on the chalk until there were no marks left.

You were always too much of a perfectionist.

“Oh, I do care…” Angie said, taking the board from your hands.

“Okay, okay…” you said amused, rolling your eyes. “What do you want to play now?”

The answer didn't come from the doll, but from the clock in the entrance. It hurt you to admit it, but the mornings with the irreverent puppet passed faster and faster.

“Guess the picture!” she squealed, jumping on the floor.

“I'm sorry, Miss Angie but…” you said, getting up from the floor and fixing your hair. “I have to make lunch.”

You carefully prepared a delicious soup, measuring the ingredients, discarding anything that wasn't close to perfection. Every day you pushed yourself harder and harder, proving to the world that you were capable of being valuable, that someone would recognize your effort someday, even if that someone was the mysterious lady Beneviento.

Punctual as always, the lady appeared when everything was ready, while you placed the cutlery with a sickly delicacy and care, bowing when that dark figure appeared in front of you.

“My lady,” you said elegantly, receiving a timid nod in response. “I hope the soup is to your liking.”

“Mm.” Well, a discreet murmur was much more than the eternal silence the lady had at the beginning.

Beneviento began to eat, discreetly moving her veil aside so as not to be seen, under your watchful gaze.

This time, for some reason, time passed more slowly.

Suddenly the lady stopped eating, directing her invisible gaze towards you, who were waiting patiently for her to finish.

“Cosa fai?” she asked with a hoarse voice, taking you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, um… sorry?” you asked somewhat confused. You had heard her speak before, but it was uncommon.

Your lady sighed annoyed, leaving the cutlery on the table.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, well, I'm waiting for you to finish, my lady,” you answered with an elegant smile, lowering your gaze.

“Why?” the lady asked again, crossing her arms uncomfortably, starting to form a knot in your stomach. “You always do the same.”

“I think it’s my duty, my lady,” you explained, a little more nervous than usual. “Alcina always…”

“Taci, I'm talking,” the lady interrupted, clenching one of her fists. “Do you have a hobby of watching people while they eat? Oh, well, did my sister get some kind of pleasure from you doing it?”

Her words and voice were authoritative, but at the same time they betrayed the clumsiness of someone who didn't usually talk to anyone. Deep down, that seemed adorable in its own way, but also terrifying.

“No, my lady, it's what all us maids did, you know, in case she needs something or…” you said, sure of your words, ignoring the strangeness you felt when talking to her.

“I don't need anything,” Donna murmured, picking up her cutlery again.  “Aren't you hungry?”

“Yes, a little, my lady, you admitted nervously. “But Alcina…”

“Alcina what?” she interrupted, annoyed, as if the simple name of her sister made her uncomfortable.

“W-Well, she always said that maids should eat after and…” you tried to explain, but an impatient grunt forced you to shut up.

“What nonsense,” your lady exhaled, shaking her head. “Siedeti”

“Sorry?” you asked, controlling the trembling of your hands.

“I said sit, silly maid,” she growled impatiently. “Sit and have lunch with me… per favore.”

“Um, I…” you stammered surprised by the proposal but without time to think what to do since your legs moved on their own towards the table. “Of course, my lady, thank you, my lady.”

“If I hear you say my lady again, I will make you clean the books in the office, one by one, is that clear?” the lady threatened.

“Yes, my… um…”

“Donna. I have a name, my name is Donna,” she said nervously, gently knocking on the table to get your attention.

“Yes, Donna,” you said, picking up a plate and serving yourself some soup, not fully aware of what you were getting yourself into.

The lady sighed, also betraying nervousness, and grabbed a bottle of wine, tilting it towards your glass.

“Oh, no, please, I shouldn't drink alcohol, Alcina...” you said, putting your hands in front of your body as a defense. Her silence was a bad sign, which you interpreted right away. “I mean... I would love some wine, Donna.”

She nodded, and so, began what would undoubtedly be the most uncomfortable meal of your life.

The silence was heavy around you, and your nervous smiles didn’t help. It was true that you lost your fear of the lady in black after the first few months, but eating with her was something you had never done before, although sometimes, just sometimes, you wanted to get a little closer to her, to get to know her better...

“Um...” you interrupted, fearing that the silence would last forever “Do you like the soup?”

“Mm,” she answered, discreetly, without saying a word.

“Great, I guess,” you whispered with a complacent look, avoiding seeing the pale skin that the movements of her veil revealed. “It's my recipe.”

“Mm,” she murmured again, with apparent disinterest. “I thought the maids of the castle didn’t know how to cook.”

“Oh, well,” you said a more relaxed, feeling internally proud of your skills. “It's true that she has cooks, but... well, I guess that's why I'm here.”

“Mm, explain,” Donna demanded, with a calmer tone, apparently.

“Well... Alcina sent me to work with you because according to her I was the best of her maids, so...” you said uncertainly, playing with your food.

“How bold,” she commented, sighing and shaking her head. “Given the situation you are in now, I doubt she had the slightest appreciation for you.”

“What? Why do you say that?” you asked surprised, and hurt by the comment.

“Don't pretend that this is some kind of promotion or reward for you, silly girl,” Donna said, pointing at you with the spoon.

“W-Well, why can't I think like that?” you protested calmly and curiously.

“No one would think like that,” she commented with a dark, sad voice, one that attracted your attention.

“Well,” you said with a confident smile, tilting your head. “I sincerely prefer this to a swarm of gossipy maids incapable of keeping quiet... it was... stressful,” you risked joking, making her gaze slowly rise to you.

“Mm”

“What I mean is that… well I'm comfortable here, with you, I mean, in this house, serving you and… well…” you stammered, feeling a familiar heat on your cheeks, afraid of making a mistake with your words, but knowing that they were sincere in some way.

“Are you comfortable here, with me?” she asked in a different tone, making the heat on your cheeks increase.

“Well… I am,” you said almost without a voice, looking for a way to smother that fire in your chest, a discomfort that wasn't so anymore, for some reason. “You're not like people say.”

“Mm?” the lady asked, staring at you, surprised by those involuntary words.

“I… well, I… Ugh, it’s getting late…” you said awkwardly, finishing your food and hastily getting up from the table. “I better pick this up and…” You couldn’t continue talking, as your steps were interrupted by a hand that grabbed your wrist tightly.

“(Y/N),” Donna said, getting up as well, without letting you go. “Thank you, for having lunch with me.”

“You’re welcome, Donna,” you said, formally pushing her hand away and bowing slightly.

It seemed like an exceptional, isolated situation, but you soon realized that it wasn’t at all. From that moment on, you dined, and had breakfast and lunch t with the lady in black. The conversations were terribly awkward at first, but little by little they began to flow naturally.

Donna Beneviento wasn’t right in the head, that was more than evident, but behind that facade of madness and loneliness was hidden a truly interesting and intelligent woman, one that you wanted to get to know better.

Hearing her laughter was one more step. A tea here, a chat about books there… Something was forming and you didn't want to be aware of it, you wanted to ignore the beating of your heart, which increased when she was near.

No, you couldn't, you shouldn't feel anything for her, right? Right?

Getting away from those thoughts and feelings seemed the most prudent thing to do, of course, and that's what you did, or tried to. The relationship that united you grew stronger day by day, with every word, every sigh, with every silent look.

But any thought or illusion that formed in your head, like in your heart, wouldn't last long. A month was enough for everything that had grown between you to suddenly disappear, in the worst possible way.

“Well...” you sighed as you walked through the basement. You never liked that damn basement. In your hands you carried clean sheets and, looking at the clock, you saw that it was the right time to clean your mistress's room.

Normally entering there was forbidden, with the exception of one day a week, and as long as Donna was working on her dolls in the meantime.

You discreetly approached the workshop, trying to distinguish some sound inside the sinister room to find out if your mistress was there.

Some noises confirmed it and, unlike other times when you entered the workshop to make sure, this time you shrugged assuming that the lady in black was immersed in her work.

Humming happily, you headed towards the bedroom, trying to put aside those dangerous feelings and stick to your work. If you had been more focused on your tasks, perhaps you would have realized something important.

The door to the room was open, and inside it... was Donna.

The lady in black was sitting in front of a piece of furniture with a mirror, nothing out of the ordinary. What was strange, what made you stop abruptly, was that in the reflection of the old mirror, you could see her face.

The veil that prevented you from looking at her eyes was no longer there. In the mirror you could only see the reflection of a damaged face, some black hair tied in a messy bun framing it, curiously similar to the portrait on the stairs.

“Shit,” you whispered, trying to hide when you realized your mistake, but unable to look away from the reflection.

Donna was a beautiful woman, a really beautiful one. Her black hair framed the paleness of her face in a subtle, natural way. Her one eye shone wetly due to a tear the lady wiped away with a sob.

The right side of her face was the complete opposite. A horrible scar covered the place where her right eye should be. It was a striking scar, yes, but one that didn’t overshadow her beauty in the slightest.

You understood her fear, her insecurities, the reason why that horrible veil prevented you from seeing her beauty, but you found it difficult to understand.

Your feelings danced to the tune of her reflection, of her sad but beautiful gaze. It seemed that time had stopped, but you quickly realized that it wasn’t like that, that you could also see yourself in that mirror.

Putting a hand on your mouth to stifle a gasp, you hid behind the door, just when the lady stopped crying, as if something had scared her, as if she had noticed your presence.

Without making a sound, you fled to the corner as the sound of heels came closer and closer. You trembled with fear and nerves controlled your actions. You knew she wouldn't be able to see you, but you still couldn't help but be scared.

A loud slam of the door made you drop the clean sheets and your legs threatened to give out. Had she seen you? Had she heard you? Did she know you were there? That you had seen her?

Not knowing whether to apologize and admit your fault or hide like a cowardly rat, you walked back to the workshop, pretending that everything was okay, that everything would be okay.

“Damn it... Angie!” you yelled when you saw the doll inside the workshop, discovering that the irreverent puppet was the cause of the noises that made you think that Donna was there.

“Hey! What's that tone about, maid?” the doll protested, with her hands comically placed on her hips.

“W-W-Were you here the whole time?” you asked, with your whole body shaking, looking back, thinking that at any moment, Donna would come.

“What's wrong with you? Of course I was,” Angie answered, tilting her head and laughing sinisterly. “Hey, silly, what's got into you?”

“I-I, I thought that...” you said nervously, running a hand over your forehead, not really knowing what to say or do, until the unmistakable sound of her heels burst into the room. “Oh, my lady Donna,” you said with difficulty, making an awkward bow.

The lady, now covered in her black veil, approached you slowly, menacingly. She had caught you, for sure.

“You, maid, what are you doing?” she asked in an unpleasant tone, making you cringe in fear.

“Sorry, Donna, I was just looking if you were here to… to clean your room, if that's okay…” you managed to say with great effort, pretending, or trying to pretend, that nothing had happened.

The woman sighed impatiently, approaching the clean sheets, stained from having fallen to the floor.

“I see… were you planning to put these sheets on my bed?” she asked in a disturbing tone, looking at the clothes with disdain.

“Yes, of course, I…” you said timidly, checking what exactly was wrong.

“Stupida…” Donna hissed, intimidating you even more. “These sheets are dirty, maid, clean them.”

“Oh, I… I'm sorry, I didn't look closely and…” you said, nervously apologizing and dusting the sheets that, apart from that, were completely clean. “Bu-bu-but I'll clean them right away and…”

“Shut up!” your mistress shouted at you, making the lump in your throat prevent you from speaking. “You're getting used to too many luxuries, maid. You should relearn what you place is.”

“Excuse me? I-I, I don't…” you stammered, frowning, but unable to stop shaking.

“I said… shut up!” she shrieked again, causing even her doll to flee the workshop with a cry of panic. “I don't want to hear your stupid voice, is that clear? Is that clear!?” she insisted, grabbing your arm tightly and shaking your body, making the sheets caress the floor again.

“I'm sorry, Donna, I…” you said trembling, bending down to pick up the clothes under her watchful gaze, lost, disoriented by that sudden behavior.

It couldn't be a crisis, she'd never had one like that, there had to be something else, something that had to do with your discovery.

“Donna?” the doll maker asked ironically, crossing her arms. “For you, I am… Your lady! Do you hear me? Your lady!” she shouted frantically, making you shrink on the floor while you nodded nervously.

“Y-yes…” you murmured.

“Yes, what?!” she demanded, making her sweet and elegant voice sound like a terrifying roar.

“Yes, my lady,” you repeated, trying not to cry and slowly standing up.

“I don't want to hear you, I don't want to see you, I don't want to know you exist, I want clean sheets on my bed now!”

“I-I'm sorry, my lady, as you say, my lady, I won't fail you, my lady,” you repeated automatically, nodding and trying not to let the tears that were eager to escape from your eyes run down your cheeks.

“Ugh, idiota...” she growled, turning on her heels and walking towards her work table.

“But, what's wrong with you?” you whispered as you picked up the sheets, glancing sideways at the lady and disappearing from the workshop, scared and confused.

Everything changed from that day on.

What was a calm, peaceful relationship, which could even become something more, became a nightmare.

You didn't even bother to think that it had to do with having seen her face, you couldn't, you didn't have time to think or question that change in the attitude of the lady in black.

The timid praises became words of contempt, constant disapproval, screams, almost impossible demands. Donna had changed; she had become a tyrant, a horrible and irritable woman.

Nothing you did seemed right to her, nothing you felt seemed to matter to her. She was dominating you, intimidating you, treating you as if you were worthless, as if you were useless, a feeling you knew all too well.

The days became long and tedious. The trembling of your body accelerated when she came closer, when she yelled at you, when she despised everything you did. Those quiet lunches and dinners became hell. Donna forced you to sit in front of her every day, listening to more and more hurtful words, more and more contempt.

Being strict wasn’t a problem, but that behavior went far beyond simple demands; it was rage, irrational hatred for something you weren’t sure you had done. You were getting worse, the smile no longer adorned your face, you were afraid.

Donna scared you, she terrified you.

Little by little you began to forget those good times, understanding that the rumors were always right. Donna Beneviento wasn’t a woman, she was a monster.

“Where do you think you are going?” the lady asked when you discreetly finished your meal, getting up so you could stop being with her.

“I'm done, my lady,” you whispered elegantly, picking up your plate with trembling hands.

“Did I tell you that you can go?” she asked in a superior tone, forcing you to sit down again.

“You didn’t, my lady,” you said, lowering your gaze.

“Mm, well, okay, go, I fancy some tea,” Donna said after a moment of unbearable silence. “Are you deaf? Tea, now.”

“Yes, my lady,” you said kindly, hurrying to collect the plates and go down to the kitchen before she thought of anything else to ask you.

You knew that you couldn't bear this situation much longer, but you had to. Donna was a monster, but you were her maid. Something inside you forced you not to fail her, not to disappoint her.

Scared and nervous in case you took too long, you carefully prepared her tea, going up the elevator again and faking a horrible smile.

“It's about time,” Donna commented, hitting the table impatiently.

“Forgive me, my lady, but I still can't control the boiling temperature of the water,” you said unintentionally, regretting it instantly.

“What did you say?” the lady asked, slowly getting up from the table. “Are you making fun of me?”

“N-No, my lady,” you said while you poured the tea, trying not to leave panic take over your body.

“No one makes fun of me! Much less a pathetic maid like you,” the woman hissed, grabbing your arm tightly, pulling it, shaking you until a sound of something breaking made her retreat.

The cup you held with your trembling hand crashed against the floor, irreparably breaking into several pieces.

“Stupida!” she shrieked furiously. “Stupida, stupida! Look what you've done!”

“I-I'm sorry, my lady, I… Ah!” you screamed when her hand went straight to your hair, pulling it hard, causing you pain. “Ah, I'm sorry!” you cried for her grip to lessen, but it didn't only increased due to your resistance.

“You're useless! You don't do anything right! I should punish you for this…” she yelled in your ear, giving you another horrible tug and forcing you to bend over, kneeling on the floor.

“Please, my lady, it hurts!” you protested on the verge of tears, being careful not to lean on the remains of the porcelain. “Please!”

“Cretina!” Donna exclaimed, letting you go with a growl and leaning.

“No, please, my lady, have mercy, my lady, I… I…” you said nervously, avoiding looking at her, feeling the heat of the burning tea on your knees and hissing at the sensation. “Please… Donna, please…”

You didn't know why you were begging, why you longed for that interesting and kind woman you once met, but still, you did it.

“Mm? Silenzio, stupida,” the lady murmured bending down and bringing a hand to your chin, squeezing it tightly. “You are a very bold maiden… Mm, the truth is that seeing you like this, on your knees in front of me… It pleases me. Maybe I should think about the punishment I'm going to give you…” she commented with a dangerous voice, insinuating something that seemed unthinkable.

“No, please… please,” you exhaled almost without strength, without wanting to continue fighting, accepting any horrible punishment she imposed on you, without being able to stop it.

“Shh, chiudi il becco, ragazza…” she purred, moving your chin, digging her nails into your skin “Now you're going to learn to…”

“Donna, Donna!” Angie's shrill voice appeared at the last moment, causing the lady to stand up with a furious growl.

“Leave, Angie, sono ocuppata,” Donna answered, something you took advantage of to get away from her, from her intentions.

“Yes, yes, yes…” the puppet mocked, tugging at her dress. “So, what do I tell Mother Miranda? Do I tell her that you were too busy torturing the maid to answer her call?” she asked with an ironic tone.

“Ugh, cazzo…” the brunette protested, kicking the floor angrily. “You, stupida, clean this up,” she ordered you before walking away.

“Gods…” you sighed when her presence disappeared, covering your face with your hands, feeling a pat on the back.

“Come on, come on, silly girl, stop crying,” Angie said with a voice that didn't sound like hers at all.

“Angie, what's wrong with Donna? She, she wasn't like that… she wasn't like that…” you said, letting the puppet discreetly comfort you, breaking down in tears.

“Well, I don't know. How would I know?” the doll said, helping you pick up the pieces of the broken cup. “Here, here's one more.”

“Thanks,” you said sobbing, gathering all the pieces.  “Angie, I can't take it anymore, I... I'm terrified. I've never been so scared.”

“Donna is scary, huh?” Angie said, in a mocking but somehow understanding tone. “She's a silly Donna, she's acting weird … But, but she'll get over it, I'm sure she'll get over it and…”

“No, Angie. You've seen how she is, she was going to... w-well, I don't know what she was going to do exactly, but this is too much, I don't... I don't think I can go on like this,” you said, slowly getting up, with your knees and head aching. “I don't know what she'll do to me next time.”

“Come on, silly, don't be afraid, your friend Angie is here to protect you,” the doll said. “I won't let my Donna get carried away more than necessary, I like you.”

“Thanks, Angie, but...”

“Angie! Vieni qui!” a demanding voice spoke from somewhere in the house, leaving the doll with no choice but to obey.

Being left alone was the worst thing that could happen to you.

Pretending to entertain yourself, to do something to make up for your mistake, you spent the afternoon trying to put the broken cup back together, carefully gluing the pieces until the break was only noticeable by the cracks that decorated the porcelain.

“Gods…” you sighed again, watching as the night-darkened sky dragged you even further into hell. “I can't go on like this, I can't…”

The house was silent, calm, as if a horrible demon didn't live in it. A strange exhaustion in your chest told you to pay attention to your thoughts, to your survival instinct.

There was no one around, you were completely alone, and by going down a few stairs, you would be in front of the entrance door of the mansion, and, behind it, your freedom awaited. A risky freedom, but… what else could you do?

Lady Beneviento, for whom you once felt something, for whom you once sighed in your lonely nights, wishing to get a little closer to her, was now your tormentor, a monster, one who would always haunt you, as long as you were there, in its lair.

Your life went from being calm, happy, to being miserable. Your face was no longer the same, you were no longer the same and Donna… Donna… what would happen when she got bored of yelling at you and pulling your hair? Could she kill you? Or something worse?

The uncertainty was unbearable, and in a risky, but brave gesture, you decided to slowly go down the stairs. In your hand you carried the repaired cup, a cup that you left on the dining room table, like a silent farewell.

Holding back your tears and controlling the trembling in your body, you turned around, wrapping yourself up to withstand the cold of the night, the cold that awaited you outside.

You gave the portrait one last look, a portrait of a lady as impassive and stoic as ever.

Where had that beautiful woman gone? Where was Donna Beneviento? How could she let a monster take her place?

So many questions, but you were too tired and scared to answer them. Squeezing your eyes shut, you walked one step, then another, until you reached for the doorknob. A strange current prevented you from touching it and, frightened, you turned around.

“Are you going somewhere?” a somber voice asked, Donna, who was standing in the dining room, with a relaxed, self-assured posture.

“I can't stay, I... I...” you answered, making an effort to ignore her and grab the doorknob again. You couldn't do it.

“Don't leave, (Y/N), non te lo permetto...”

As she spoke, the lady in black slowly raised her arm. Her voice was calm, quiet, but it held danger, a danger that ran through your entire body, forcing you to ignore her, and finally, open the door.

The cutting cold lasted barely a second. You thought a dark, snowy landscape was waiting for you, but the warm light of a fireplace appeared instead. It wasn't just any place, it wasn't a dream; you were home, in your home.

“W-What?”

“(Y/N).”A dark voice revealed a shadow that you were convinced wasn't there before. You shuddered when you recognized it: your father. “What a disappointment.”

“Father?” you asked confused, closing and opening your eyes several times to make sure what you were seeing was real.

“Father, you say? A failure like you has no right to call me that, young lady,” the man answered, without looking you in the eyes, as he always did.

“But, father, I don't…”

“Shut up, girl,” a female voice said, your mother “Do you always have to disappoint us?”

“What? No, I haven't done anything,” you said nervously, shaking your head, looking for an explanation for that strange encounter. “I've always tried to...”

“What? To be useless?” your father answered, getting up from an armchair. “You don't know how to do anything, (Y/N), you don't do anything right.”

“What did you want me to do? I'm not perfect, but...” you tried to defend yourself without success, you were too scared. “But, but I try, I really try!”

“Silly girl, you do nothing but fail everyone around you... you are a disappointment to your father, to me, to Donna...”

“No, that's not true, I, I've done the best I could!”

“You lie!” they answered in unison, accompanied by a sinister laugh, the laugh of... Angie.

“I just wanted to do, to do things right… I never wanted to let anyone down, not you, not Alcina, not Donna, I…” you lamented, falling to your knees on the floor, feeling a strange cold shock as you did so.

“Well, you failed!” your father shouted. “You've been a nuisance to us since the day you were born, you're not even good enough to be a maid, you're good enough for nothing…”

“No, that's not true! I’m good enough! I'm a good maid!” you defended yourself, covering your ears so as not to keep hearing those horrible words. “I haven't done anything wrong! I just wanted to be good for Donna, for everyone! I never wanted to let her down!”

“Useless”

“Clumsy”

“Stupida”

“Fool, fool, fool maid!”

Too many voices to fight with. You could make out your parents, Donna, even Angie. You collapsed on the floor as you sobbed inconsolably, begging for help that would never come.

“No, stop, stop… please, I'm not a disappointment… I don't… I just want…”

Your sobs eased when you no longer felt the glow of the fireplace, when that terrifying vision faded, and you returned to reality, to a snowy ground on which you knelt.

“Gods…” you sighed, trying to stand up, turning to see Donna at the door, watching in silence. “You…” you said, hissing, climbing the stairs of the entrance. “Why did you do this to me!?” you yelled furiously, throwing yourself against her, hitting her shoulders in desperation.

Her arms grabbed you, preventing you from hitting her as hard as you would have liked, screaming, finally bursting into rage and inconsolable crying.

“Why?! Why, why, why? Gods…, Gods…” you lamented while she held you, silent, without saying anything.

“Calm down, (Y/N),” the woman in black said, holding you tighter, unable to control you. “Calmati!”

“I don't want to calm down,” you hissed, laughing nervously, shaking your head, but stopping moving. “Come on, go ahead, my lady, punish me for betraying you, rape me, kill me, do whatever you want with me, I don't care anymore… ask me to kneel, my lady, I won't bite you, my lady…”

“Will you shut up? Come,” she demanded, pulling on your arm, dragging you to her reading corner and dropping you on a couch. “Stay there, sit down.”

You were terrified, you knew it was your end, or so you thought.

After a few seconds, the lady in black sighed, sitting slowly next to you, in silence, bringing her hand to the black veil that covered her face, removing it with a terrifying calm.

You didn't say anything. You just sobbed confused, without understanding anything, feeling something inside you seeing her face again, something you didn't want to feel.

Donna left her veil carefully folded on the table and looked at you with a cold, but sad expression.

“I know you were there that day. I know you saw my face,” she began, with a nervous, but calm tone, far from her usual attitude. “I saw you in the reflection of the mirror.”

You didn't answer. You simply dried your tears, nodding slowly.

“I...”

“Shut up,” Donna interrupted you, frowning, being expressive, really expressive for the first time. “You... you ran away from me, you hid, thinking I hadn't seen you.”

“Yes, but…” you stammered, trying to clear your voice.

“Why?” she asked, without waiting for your answer, or an explanation. “Did I scare you? Did my face scare you? Why, (Y/N)?”

“What? I, I didn't…” you murmured confused, trying to order your mind. “I just… I didn't want to disappoint you.”

The ventriloquist simply nodded, attentive.

“I… I knew I should have made sure you weren't in the workshop, I knew I was forbidden to sneak into your room without permission and yet I did it and… I was, I was afraid…”

“Afraid of me,” she finished the sentence for you, a wrong sentence.

“Yes… no,” you said nervously. “Not the way you may think, Donna. Uhg, damn… my only goal was… not to let you down and I thought that… that I had done wrong and that you would be angry for having disobeyed you and… what nonsense…”

The lady in black smiled wryly, the first smile you saw on her face. Then, she shook her head repeatedly, getting up from the chair and pacing erratically from one side to the other.

“You know? I preferred another explanation,” she murmured, starting to get nervous. “I preferred you to tell me that I scared you, that my face scared you, that I scared you… because… because… Because that's what I thought!”

“What…?” you asked, backing away on the couch.

“A monster, right? That's what I am, that's what I thought I was to you… That's what you thought? Fine, then I would be a monster! You never thought like that, right? I wish I hadn’t made you hallucinate, I wish I still thought that everything I did was to protect myself,” she said distractedly, talking to herself, rather than addressing you.

“But no… it wasn’t that, you weren’t afraid of me, you were afraid of… letting me down? Oddio… letting me down!? You!? You were the only good thing that had ever happened to me in life and I…”

“Donna,” you said, watching her mind destabilize again. “How could you think that I…? If I hid like a coward it's because I've always been told…”

“That you're good for nothing,” she finished, wiping the sweat from her forehead, alternating moans of laughter and crying. “I know, I was there, listening to the stupid things you thought you were saying to your parents.”

“You don't understand, you don't understand what it's like to be despised for everything, to never be good enough for anyone, to believe that you do nothing but disappoint people,” you said, gaining some courage. “Everything I've done has been to please you, even if you… if you became the monster that everyone talks about.”

“I became a monster long before I met you, (Y/N) and… now…” Donna said, laughing hysterically again. “And now I've lost you! Cazzo… What have I done!? What have I done!?”

The lady doubled over, falling to the floor on her knees, completely submissive. Out of the corner of your eye, you glanced at the front door and thought of taking advantage of the situation to escape, but something stopped you, something you hadn't felt since the last time Donna said something kind to you.

“(Y/N), I beg you, forgive me, please, please!” she shrieked, crawling across the floor until she reached your lap. “I never wanted to hurt you! I beg you, forgive me!” the lady pleaded over and over again, grabbing your hands tightly, too tightly, making you hiss in pain.

“Donna, you, you’re hurting me…” you said, yanking your hand away, letting the lady bury her head in your lap while you were increasingly confused.

“I beg you, please don't leave... stay with me, please, forgive me, forgive me...” she repeated with an agonizing sob, wetting your uniform with her tears.

“Donna, I...” you said nervously, not knowing what you really wanted, if you were capable of giving her another chance, if things could be like before.

“I don't deserve anything, (Y/N), but, but... can you forgive me? Please...” your lady insisted, looking up, sending a gleam of sincerity to your eyes, a very deep wound in her heart.

“I... I-I don't know, Donna,” you confessed, closing your eyes, letting her hands grab yours again. “The things you've done to me... I... I can't promise you anything.”

“I know… I know,” she sighed, slowly getting up, wiping away her tears “Io… Io…”

“Donna,” you said, getting up too, moving your hand to her cheek, starting a moment of silence, one in which you dedicated yourself to admiring her beauty, the pain in her gaze, the regret. “Donna, I… I would love to say that I forgive you, that things will be like before but, I can't.”

She, terribly hurt, nodded slowly, closing her eye at your touch.

“At least, not now…” you added, making her stop sobbing and quickly raise her gaze. “Just give me some time.”

“S-so… you… will you stay with me?” she asked desperately, to which you nodded, without removing your hand from her face.

You couldn't say it was easy to stay, to forget everything that had happened, but for some reason you forced yourself to try.

Little by little everything went back to normal. The lady in black stopped screaming, intimidating you, to return to her kind words, to a feeling of guilt that forced her to treat you much better.

You couldn't complain, but you couldn't forget. You spent weeks meditating, thinking about how things were at that point. The veil disappeared forever, and maybe that helped you see the Donna you knew again, to remove the word monster from your thoughts every time they focused on her.

You didn't know very well why, but those bad moments gradually disappeared from your head. Donna was another woman; she became thoughtful, kind and loving. Your mind told you that you couldn't forgive her, but you knew that your heart had done so a long time ago.

The closeness went far beyond the limits of friendship, and finally, you decided to let yourself go with what you had been feeling for a long time. It wasn’t an easy task to admit that you had fallen in love with her, that maybe you had always been, not after everything that happened.

Forgetting was wise, they once told you, and that's what you did, leaving the darkness behind and looking for the light.

“(Y/N)... perché?” Donna asked, confused when your lips acted on their own kissing hers while you cooked together.

You shrugged, pretending that nothing had happened, smiling and licking your lips at the softness and innocence of that kiss.

“Well, I've been wanting to say what I feel for you for a long time, but the truth is, all I could think of was cheesy nonsense,” you said jokingly, glancing sideways at the stunned lady, who placed her fingers on her lips.

“I-I like cheesy nonsense,” the lady said quickly, pulling you away from the stove and gently taking your hands. “And I… I…” she stammered, blinking nervously.

“Shh, breathe, Donna, come on, you can do this…” you said softly, encouraging her to confess, to say what you both knew. “Would you like to kiss me again?”

“Y-Yes…” she whispered embarrassed, smiling like an innocent child.

“Mm, okay, then… tell me, what do you feel for me?” you mocked, taking advantage of that moment of weakness.

“Oh, well I… I…”

“Come on, you know I'm shy… you have to do it,” you continued joking, playing with her hands, making her laugh nervously.

“I-I don't know how to do it…” she said, with her cheeks red, unable to hold your gaze.

“Say whatever comes to your mind, tell me, what do you feel when I'm with you?” you said, playing with a lock of her hair, feeling her body tremble more and more.

“Can't you start?” she asked, frowning.

“Mm, no, you owe me this,” you said smugly, resorting to a dirty, but effective trick.

“W-Well, I… I feel good next to you, my heart beats so fast and… and when I look at you I feel… I feel…” she started, looking away, something that you stopped with a soft grip on her cheeks. “I feel regret… for everything that happened and…”

“Shh, don't talk about it now,” you whispered in her ear, to which she nodded slowly. “Tell me what you feel when I do this.” You lowered your voice, bringing your hand to her cheek, caressing her face, her scar, as much as you could, enjoying the touch, enjoying the Donna you knew. “Come on…”

“I feel good, (Y/N), I feel like… I want to kiss you, I love you and… I'm dying to make love to you, and kiss you again and…”

“Hey, okay, okay…” you laughed amused, kissing her quickly. “Donna, I… I love you too and… I, I would like to be with you, do you want the same?”

“It’s the only thing I want,” she whispered, staring at you, devouring you with a deep, tender kiss. “I just, I just want to take care of you and love you… show you that you are everything to me…”

“Come,” you said, turning off the stove and dragging the lady into the bedroom, ready to affirm your feelings, to be everything to her, to be everything with her.

“What are you doing?” the lady asked as you took off your apron, letting it fall seductively on the floor.

“Well… you said you wanted to make love to me…” you purred, letting the euphoria of the confession take you gently, naturally.

“Yes, well, but, but…” Donna said timidly, terribly embarrassed. “I-It doesn't have to be right now, but when you're ready and, besides, I… I…” Her clumsy words were silenced with a soft, tender and at the same time ardent kiss.

“Donna, I'm your maid, do you really think I don't know what's under that dress of yours?” you joked, running your fingers to the buttons of her dress, avoiding looking at her.

“Certo, but, I…” she interrupted, grabbing your wrists gently. “I don't want to force you.”

“You don't, Donna… you see… so many things have happened… we've missed so many moments. I just want to have it all, I don't want to wait, I want you to make me yours, I want to be yours forever.”

“Does that mean…?” the lady added, slowly lowering your hands, looking at you expectantly. “Do you forgive me?”

“That means… that I love you, Donna Beneviento,” you whispered, before capturing her lips again, fiercely, without giving her time to think.

They were the last words heard in the bedroom. The next thing you heard were eager kisses, sounds of wood creaking under your feet as you moved to the bed, not wasting a second, kissing, touching, caressing everything your hands could reach, living in the moment, forgetting the past.

“Hey, wait,” you said, with your body already naked, with her erection pressing into your skin and her gaze full of lust.

“What's wrong, tesoro?” Donna asked, breathing heavily, repressing her lust to listen to you.

“Nothing, just... just be gentle, okay? It's my first time,” you said caressing her cheek, moving your body to rub against hers as she nodded, kissing you in a sweet way, unthinkable for the monster the rumors spoke of.

“Va bene,” she whispered, letting herself be carried away by her impulses but controlling the desire she had to take you.

The pain didn't last too long. She kept her word, being careful, respectful, entering you gently, allowing your body to adjust enough so as not to be a nuisance, so as not to be an unwanted intruder.

A smile spread across your face as her shaft caressed your walls, while soft moans and whispers in Italian filled all your senses. All the memories flashed through your mind, only the good ones, how you had managed to never fail her, how she regretted her actions.

You loved her, she loved you, you probably always loved each other, but that damn black veil blinded you both.

“I-I love you, (Y/N),” she said hastily, moaning in pleasure, holding your legs, your hips, your face, placing her lips on your neck as she took you calmly, without losing her nerves, without losing the love in her gaze.

“Donna, I love you so much…” you moaned, feeling your body writhe in pleasure, your hands pulling at the sheets as her thrusts intensified. It was just you two, one body and two hearts beating nervously, anxious to discover what the future would bring.

Your muscles tensed, your hands scratched her back as you felt your release running through every inch of your skin.

“Gods!” you moaned as you shook and poor Donna tried to keep you in place, as she was also close.

“(Y/N)… I… I'm going to…” the brunette murmured, growling wildly as she released herself inside you, as she culminated that act of love and passion that took too long to arrive.

The last thing you remembered was the caresses, the soft embrace of your naked bodies, the love you swore to each other that afternoon, and that would be forever.

Back in the present…

“(Y/N), (Y/N), tesoro,” Donna's voice brings you back to reality and, as if you had just woken up from a dream, you shook your head.

“Oh, sorry, I got distracted,” you apologize, finishing your tea, now cold.

“Mm, what were you thinking about?” the lady asks, kissing you carelessly before returning to the dress she was making.

“Mm, about us, you know, about everything we've lived,” you say without fear, making a sincere smile appears on her face. “Hey, Donna, I realized that I've never told you one thing.”

“Mm?” she asks, now giving you all her attention, kindly taking your hands, with a certain air of concern. “Amore mio, what's wrong?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” you say, shaking your head. “You already know, but I'd like to tell you.”

“Um, what?” Donna wants to know, frowning.

“Donna, no matter what happened between us, I… I love you, and I want to be with you, I'm so happy by your side that I haven't even been able to tell you before but… Donna, I forgive you.”

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 45

Chapter 45 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Buck and Chris get swept up by the tsunami. Buck tries his best to keep Chris safe and sheltered from the worst of it, however, the receding tide still takes him. Buck has to find him again, he can’t lose Chris, can’t lose their son.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie

Warnings: insecurity, self loathing, injury, minor character death mention, near death experience

~~~

Chapter 45: Just Keep Swimming

A tsunami. Buck honestly isn’t sure why he didn’t expect it with how life has just been one disaster after another lately, but somehow this wasn’t on his planning this morning when he took Chris to the pier.

Sitting here on a fire engine from what he’s pretty sure is Bosko’s unit, surrounded by people he pulled from the water, he regrets not at least calling out a hi to her when he saw her on the pier earlier.

It felt too awkward to so then, since she is housing his husband and he at some point thought said husband was having an affair with her, but now he would kill for someone to know that they’re out here. It was such a spur of the moment thing that he didn’t mention it to anyone. They’re sitting ducks right now.

The only thing that is keeping him sane, is that Chris is right next to him.

He feels horrible about Chris being out here in this with him. If they’d just stayed home today, they wouldn’t have been in this mess. But no, Buck dragged Chris out to the pier, because he wanted to make right that Eddie has been driven away by something involving Buck. Now Chris just has another traumatic event to add to the list. And that’s his fault.

However, now is not the time to focus on how awful he feels, he needs to focus on Chris. Despite the terrible day he’s having, he’s being plenty cheerful. It’s very Chris, and Buck is glad life hasn’t crushed his spirit yet as they play I Spy together.

If the circumstances were different, he might have paid more attention to the other people he pulled from the water. However, no one appeared seriously injured, so as long as that stays the same, he forgives himself for not having the best bedside manners right now.

He’s off the clock anyway and not even officially a firefighter again, he can be forgiven for wanting to focus on his own kid. He did enough already by leaving him alone on the fire engine to pull everyone else out the water. Buck is a firefighter in his heart, so that went without saying, but he’s too tired to divide his attention between everyone else and Chris. Paramedic has always been more Hen or Chimney’s, or even Eddie’s job.

“Okay, I spy with my little eye, something that…” Buck looks to see what he can find. “Moves people around.”

Chris peers around quite adorably at the debris that is floating by to see what Buck is spying. “Oh, a scooter,” Chris realizes quickly, spotting what Buck had spied.

“Ah, yeah, nice one,” Buck says, having hoped it would be a little more difficult to find. He wants to be able to drag this game out as long as he can, so Chris has something to focus on other than the fact that they’re stuck on a fire engine while waiting for rescue or until the water goes down. But he can’t get disheartened yet, so he nudges Chris and prompts: “Okay, genius, your turn.”

“I spy,” Chris looks around much like Buck had a few seconds ago, “a shopping cart.”

“What? No, come on. Hey, that’s not how the game works. You can’t just yell stuff out,” Buck tells him.

“But, papi, yelling stuff out is the fun part!” Chris yells loudly, big grin on his face.

Buck’s heart just bursts with affection. He loves this kid so goddamn much and he is so grateful to the universe that it let him have this, even if it might not be forever, he gets to be here now. He pulls Chris into a side hug, leaning his cheek against Chris’s wet curls as he says: “You amaze me, buddy.”

“Why?”

“I know you’ve had a rough few weeks and you were pretty down yesterday. When I was a kid and I got bad news, I always got so mad, but you, after the day you had, here you are, with a big smile, busting a gut,” Buck chuckles. Then emotion overtakes him and the memory of the fear makes his voice waver. “You never gave up. Even when that water was rushing over you back there. You just kept on swimming.”

“Like Dory,” Chris says, referencing a movie they’d watched together a couple of times. Buck hadn’t even realized the words Dory sang so often had come out until Chris said that.

“Yeah, like Dory,” he smiles. “And not just today, you know, but every day. You never say no, you never complain.” It’s suddenly very important to Buck that Chris knows how impressed he is with him, that he thinks he’s the best, that he’s proud of him. “You’re such a good kid, Superman, and I keep being blown away by you. How do you do that? You didn’t get that from me, that’s for sure.”

Chris has a pleased look on his face as he explains: “Well, I complained once, but it didn’t work.”

Buck could point out that Chris complained more than once whenever it was early, but he still had to do PT or when he had to go to bed…

However, he doesn’t. He doesn’t want to do that, he doesn’t want to waste time that suddenly feels so limited correcting Chris, he wants to know him. Know him the best he can, hold as many pieces of this amazing kid in his heart. “So what did you do?”

“I just kept on swimming, papi. Like Dory,” Chris shrugs simply.

God, Chris is going to make Buck cry. He’s been trying so hard not to cry, to not let Chris see how scared he was and still is, how dangerous their situation is. Yet, here he is, nearly loosing that fight with himself because of Chris.

He’s witnessed the kid go through so much heartbreak. From Shannon leaving, to Eddie having to re-enlist, to Eddie getting seriously hurt, to uprooting his whole life to move here, to Buck getting hurt, to Eddie pulling away, to this. Buck doesn’t know where he gets the resilience. Eddie is stubborn sure, and so is Buck, and the fiery attitude Chris gets from Shannon, but this? It’s pure Chris.

It makes Buck want to hold Chris closer, hug him tightly and wish nothing else will happen to him, that nothing will ever break his spirit. But he doesn’t want to start acting weird, doesn’t want to worry Chris. So, he just pulls him a little closer to his side and takes a deep breath.

“Oh my god, look over there,” a man exclaims, pulling Buck out of his thoughts as he tries to see what they’re talking about.

“Oh my god.” “Oh no.” Two women also exclaim their horror and Buck now sees why. It’s no longer just debris that is floating by, but a group of bodies.

Chris hasn’t seen the bodies yet and Buck needs to make sure he never will. He could never live with himself if he let Chris see that. Nor could Eddie. God, Eddie will probably be so pissed at Buck. He trusted Buck to look out for Chris, to take care of him when he couldn’t, but Buck only got him caught up into a literal disaster and now Chris might see his first corpse.

Moving quickly, he settles Chris sideways, doing a little swoop as he sits him down to make it seem playful as he cups Chris’s cheek to further guide his eyes away and says: “I- I spy with my little eye, something that is,” he looks around desperately, “high.”

Success. Chris looks up and away from the bodies, peering at the buildings surrounding them to find what Buck is spying, thankfully not yet bored of the game. “A street sign?” he guesses.

Buck looks over at the bodies to see where they are. Still too close for comfort. In fact, way too close in general. They’re right next to the engine, if Buck wanted to touch them, all he’d have to do is reach out his hand.

Despite not having picked anything as the object for I Spy, Buck shakes his head: “Uh, high- higher than that. Like, whoa…” to keep up the charade.

Chris guesses a window, a street light and a cloud, before the bodies have passed. When Buck finally reveals the answer was the air-conditioning unit in one of the windows, Chris huffs: “I don’t wanna play this game anymore.”

“Yeah, me neither,” Buck sighs in a manner that may be a bit too honest as he goes to sit next to Chris. His leg hurts like a motherfucker and he’s exhausted.

It seems to last forever until a rescue mission is set up, though logically he knows they’re probably already out there, getting through is just hard and organizing enough boats is rough. Still, he’d give a lot to see firefighters on the horizon. Especially the 118.

God, what he wouldn’t give to see the 118 right now. To have the most competent people he knows come to rescue them, so he knows this nightmare is behind him.

The 118 will have Eddie too. He wants to see Eddie so bad right now. The man will likely be angry with him for endangering Chris, but he’d at least be here with him. He’s missed him being by his side so much and even though he knows it will likely be his new reality soon, in this moment he’d give anything to have the fantasy of a them again. He needs the comfort, even when he won’t know what to do when he’ll get it.

“I don’t know what we’re gonna tell daddy,” he says, more to fill the silence and distract himself from his own thoughts than anything else. “You know, we don’t invite him one time and, uh, look what happens.”

He doesn’t know what he expected from Chris. Maybe a snippy comment, like Eddie sometimes does, or another blasé comment about their situation. Instead he gets a soft and honest: “You saved me. And you saved them.”

Buck looks over at the others that Chris indicated. They all look half-drowned and beaten up, but they’re alive. He makes eye contact with one of the women he pulled out early on and she smiles at him, the younger woman huddled next to her doing the same. Automatically he smiles back.

If he’s honest, he doesn’t think he did anything big, just did his job. However, Chris doesn’t think so. Chris thinks he saved them, that he’s a hero. The tears he managed to fight off return and he has to swallow to stop them from falling.

To deflect, he says: “No, we did that together. Me and you make a great team. Give me a high five,” as he holds up his hand. He means it too, he wouldn’t have made it through this without Chris right there next to him.

Chris high fives him as Buck continues: “I’m proud of you. Really,” because Chris needs to hear that. He pulls Chris into a hug, hoping that’ll make the message sink in more.

As Chris loops his arms around Buck in return, he says: “Thank you, papi.”

“No, thank you,” Buck whispers into Chris’s shoulder. It’s not the most eloquent thing he’s ever said, but it’ll have to do, because he can’t think of anything else to say.

The sounds of water rushing makes him pull back slightly from the hug so he can see what’s going on.

Indeed, the water that had been calm a second ago is now flowing again and it’s flowing fast, too fast. It’s shaking the fire engine and pulling the debris along to bash against the sides of their refuge that now seems more fragile than it should.

Buck immediately grips Chris tightly, as he shouts to the others: “Everybody get down! Get down and hold on! Hold on!”

Further up a shelter must have failed to withstand the wave, because there are calls for help coming from between the debris and when Buck looks up over the cabin of the fire engine, there are people getting dragged forwards by the water as they wave for help.

Torn, he looks between Chris and the people yelling for help. He should definitely go help them, but he should also definitely make sure Chris is okay.

In the end, helping the people wins out, Chris is already okay. The fire engine is holding up and a safe space to hide out on until this is over. Besides, Chris thinks he saved the people already on there, he can’t let him see him just sit and do nothing while people need help. It’s not in his nature and it’s not what he wants Chris to think of his papi.

So he tells Chris to hold on, then goes to lay over the roof of the front cabin, so he can hold out his hand for the people drifting towards them to grab.

He is just pulling up a man, when something rams into the engine, shaking it violently. He hears something that could be the start of ‘papi’ before there is a splash. The realization of what that could be washes over him and he turns around just in time to see Chris disappear into the waves.

In a wave of adrenaline, he pulls the man aboard, injuring his arm in the process, but he doesn’t care as he abandons any sort of rescuing mission he was aiding at the other side of the engine as he goes to scanning the water to find Chris, calling out: “Chris? Christopher! Christopher! No! Christopher! Christopher! CHRIS!”

There is no Christopher to call back.

Without hesitation, he dives into the water after him. The chances of managing to grab him again are very low and it’s a stupidly dangerous thing to do, but none of that even registers for Buck. His son needs him, he’s going to fucking get to him, danger be damned.

If Chris was difficult to spot from the engine, it’s downright impossible to find him in the chaos of the water. Buck’s screams keep getting cut off by the water invading his mouth and just keeping himself above the water is an exhausting task. He doesn’t know how he’s going to get to Chris when he finally does find him.

As it turns out, he never gets to find out. A cluster of debris rams into him, pushing all the air out of his lungs, before dragging him down under as his foot gets stuck. Helplessly he tugs at it, vision whiting out from the pain, since of course it has to be his bad leg.

Before he can drown, the debris cluster hits a building and so does Buck. It wrenches at his leg, making him pass out, but freeing him in the process.

Buck floats down towards the sea unconscious for another second, before hitting a street sign, which wakes him up again. He flails about and almost drowns a dozen more times, before he grabs onto what at one point was wind indicator, but is now a broken pole where debris congregates.

He looks around desperately for Chis, calling out his name, but there is no response nor sign from the kid anywhere.

The heavy feeling of defeat settles in his bones as he clings to that pole, sporadically getting hit by debris as slowly the water level goes down. No miracle happens. Chris doesn’t appear. He hits the ground with a sharp pain in his leg and Chris nowhere in sight.

Chris is gone.

He lost him.

Buck lost him.

How is he ever going to live with himself? How is he ever going to tell Eddie? Buck left Chris alone for a second to save someone he didn’t even know. He let Chris fall. He let Chris drown. Buck lost him. He lost their son.

And for what? To save some people he doesn’t know? When Maddie was kidnapped by Doug and in serious danger, he hesitated, because he wanted to come home to his family, preserve what he had. Yet, here he abandoned Chris, the one person he wanted to come home to, because he wouldn’t understand.

He abandoned Chris right in front of his face, left him behind with nothing more than a ‘hold on’ while he focused on someone else. What kind of person is he? What does it say about him that he would abandon his sister for himself and his son for a stranger?

How will he ever look Eddie in the eye and tell him their son died, because Buck was playing the hero?

Buck isn’t on the clock right now, is still on medical leave. He’s a firefighter, sure, but he isn’t coming in after the fact to help with the rescue like those that are out there right now. He was hit by that wave, in the thick of the disaster. He’s a victim here, someone to be saved. He didn’t need to help anyone.

He should have left all those people behind to die. He should have held Chris as tightly as he could and never let him go, no matter what was happening around them.

‘You saved me. And you saved them.’

Chris’s words from before echo through his mind and he lifts his head to the sky to keep the tears in. He didn’t save anyone, especially not Chris. But it is how Chris sees him. He saves people. It’s why he couldn’t have abandoned anyone.

Because Buck is Buck and Buck saves people. He can still remember Chris bragging to his grandparents how his papi and daddy are heroes. How could he disappoint him by leaving those people when Chris was already safe beside him?

Chris was safe.

He was supposed to be safe.

Buck was supposed to keep him safe, but he failed. He failed and he has to fix this.

Determination comes over him and he uses the pole to steady himself. His ribs are bruised, maybe even broken and he has a headache like no other, not to mention his leg hurting almost worse than when he first got the injury. However, none of that matters, he has a mission to complete. He has to find Chris.

There is nothing else for him to worry about now. He is going to find Chris even if it kills him and he’s going to bring him home. He’s going to face Eddie with an alive Chris. He refuses to face an alternate reality.

Eddie is probably out there somewhere, helping people. That is his job. Eddie is out there as a firefighter, Buck is out here as a father. It’s his job to find Chris. They’ve always shared the responsibility, passed it back and forth to make it manageable. Right now, Buck holds the responsibility. He won’t fuck that up. Buck fixes things, he can fix this too.

It doesn’t matter that Eddie has been pulling away recently, that he’s figuring himself out. The two of them are still a unit as they’ve always been. Just because Eddie is going to leave Buck, doesn’t mean that their little family is gone entirely. They still have each other’s back out in the field, so Buck needs to have his back.

Buck will always be connected to Eddie through Chris. Eddie trusts him with Chris’s safety, trusts him to watch him while Eddie takes the space he needs. Just like Buck trusted him with Chris when he was chasing after Maddie or in the hospital.

Of course he’ll always love Eddie, he loves him so fucking much, but Chris was the first Diaz that stole his heart, albeit in a different way.

Eddie feels like safety and home. He feels like a solid rock that Buck can always come back to and be met with open arms. He knows Buck wholly and he never left. Not really. He had to enlist and recently he ran. However, he never left. He stayed close, he didn’t abandon him. Buck believes that somehow, sometime, they’ll come back to each other, even if it’s as nothing other than friends.

But Chris- Chris is his kid. His best friend, who amazes him every day. He loves Chris so much. Chris, who is so small, who has been entrusted to Buck, who he has nurtured and seen grow into such an amazing person. Chris is a piece of his soul, that is just walking around. Chris relies on him, looks at him for guidance, for comfort, for parenting. Buck will never take that for granted.

The thought is enough to propel him forward into action. He straightens himself up and looks around. The water pulled them back out to the sea, Chris was taken by the same tide as him, he probably washed up somewhere close to him. He just has to start searching, he’s bound to find Chris at some point.

It’s worse than having to find a needle in a haystack, but he ignores that part of reality. Thinking like that isn’t going to get him anywhere, isn’t going to fix this. Chris is still out there. He has to be.

Those first few steps he nearly buckles under the pain, but he has to keep moving. He doesn’t have time for pain and he knows he can keep pushing through. The human limit is much further than most people think, he’s seen people push through things much worse than a few bruises and a twisted ankle.

It’s a struggle at first. The water is still coming to his waist and slowly flowing back to the sea, so pushing against him. However, after a few near misses that send his heart beat skyrocketing, he gets into a rhythm.

Looking around, he sees that what is left of the pier is to his left and that the fire engine they took shelter on is also left from his position, even if it’s further inland. The water must have pulled him right, which means it pulled Chris right too.

He turns his back on both places and heads right.

Around him, more people are making their way through the disaster towards higher ground. Buck makes sure to take a good look at every person he passes, trying to see if he can catch sight of Chris, found by someone else. Safe.

No luck.

Turning onto a street, he hears someone yell: “Hey! There’s a kid under there.”

Immediately Buck is rushing to help. He hopes naively that it’s Chris, that it will be that easy. But he should have known better. Going off the shoes, he’s pretty sure it’s not Chris, but he isn’t going to let someone die. Especially not a kid. That’s someone’s child. He would want someone to save Chris too if they had the chance. Isn’t that what Hen said during the earthquake? This is no different.

He tells himself he’s not going to make detours to rescue people when he doesn’t have to, but this is basic human decency. Besides, with her free, he can stop the people she’s with, before they leave to ask them if they’ve seen Chris.

“Hey, hey, hey, excuse me,” he stops the group. “I’m looking for an eight-year-old boy. His name is Christopher. He’s always smiling, and he’s got CP, Cerebral Palsy. He’s got brown hair, yellow shirt.” He thinks about mentioning the glasses, but Chris probably lost them.

The surfer guy with long hair, thinks for a moment, then nods: “Yeah, yeah. I think I saw him.”

The feeling of hope, so fragile yet too big to contain his body is almost impossible to describe as he asks: “Where?”

“He was headed with a group that that cupcakery place,” surfer guy says. “I heard they’re handing out water.”

“Cupcakery? What is that?” Buck asks, needing more information so he can find Chris.

“You know, cupcake bakery. It’s about six or seven blocks south of here on Strand,” surfer guy explains.

While he is usually a fan of new tidbits of knowledge, right now he can’t give a single flying fuck about what a cupcakery is exactly. However surfer boy has given him workable information to go off with the address. “Thank you. Thank you.”

The girl is not the last person, he pulls out of the rubble on his search for Chris. And surfer guy is not the last person that gives him information on Chris that turns out to be nothing.

However, the disappointment never stops Buck. He has to keep going, keep searching, keep believing that Chris is alive and out there. That he just has to find him. That all he has to do is get to him and it’ll be okay.

A part of him can understand that it might be denial, but he doesn’t have space for anything else. If he lets himself think that, all the aches and pains he feels will pull him under and he can’t allow that to happen. He knows he’s injured, but he has to push through. For Chris.

Buck doesn’t give up. He can’t. Not until Chris is safe. He just has to keep swimming. Just has to fix this, even if it kills him. There is no other option, not for him, not when it comes to his son.

~~

A/N:

I’m sorry if you thought you’d find out what Eddie would do this chapter, it was a deception. Let’s cross our fingers Buck doesn’t die before someone can find him!

[sturniololuvrer]

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔…𝙱𝚎 𝙷𝚎𝚛𝚎 — 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 18+ 𝙼𝙳𝙽𝙸 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 (2/?)

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: shy!, virgin! Matt x fem! reader

𝙿𝚕𝚘𝚝: you and the triplets are practically best friends, you met them in LA, where you live. You and Matt unknowingly have feelings for each other, so when they go back to Boston for a whole month, you both realize how strong your feelings really are…

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fluff, slight angst?, sounds of masturbation.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 1,379

𝚊/𝚗: This is the second part to this story! Part 1 can be found here! There should only be one more part to this depending on how I feel. I used the chapter as a bridge to work on my plot writing so bear with me! I’m sorry this took so long, these past few weeks have been crazy-half my house got redone, it was my birthday last week (saw ZAYN 😭), my semester started, and I have strep throat lmfao but part 3 should be out sooner! Thanks for the patience! xx

You’re still seated at the bar with your friend about 15 minutes later after your conversation with Matt as your phone vibrates once more in your purse. You pull it out, furrowing your eyebrows as you see that Matt sent you a voice message.

You excuse yourself and go into the bathroom where the music is less loud. You find an empty stall and sit on the toilet seat, placing an AirPod in your ear to listen to the message, assuming it’s gonna be him telling you about the Boston trip.

You were oh, so very wrong, almost dropping your phone into the toilet as Matt’s moans fill your ears. “What the fuck?!” You gasp out into the bathroom, utterly shocked and confused, but not making any moves to stop the audio from playing.

Your cheeks flush as you listen to his whines and groans and you feel like you might pass away as you hear him whimper your name. You gasp again, placing a hand over your mouth as you hear the obvious sound of him cumming, a string of curses following.

After you stare at the message for a few minutes, you start to think. Did he mean to send this?? Did he somehow figure out you liked him and sent it? Was it an accident? Your mind reels, sheer confusion and slight panic forming a pit in your stomach as he sends no message explaining his previous one.

Matt has been pacing his room for the past 30 minutes. He’s absolutely mortified and disgusted that he’d send you that video, but more so that you haven’t acknowledged that you heard what he’d sent, leaving him on read.

He’s way too humiliated to explain himself because it’s obvious, to him at least that he’d just admitted he has feelings for you. He feels like he may die from embarrassment at this point, practically on the verge of tears. After another hour passes and you haven’t replied to him, he decides to just go to bed.

A few days go by and neither of you have the courage to text the other. You still talk to Nick and Chris everyday but you don’t dare say a word about what had happened. Matt is getting antsy, wanting nothing more than to call you and explain himself, but the thought of you rejecting him, or worse, not wanting to be his friend anymore is too much for him. He decides to just wait out the last two weeks of their trip and talk to you when they get back.

As the fifth day of not speaking to each other rolls by, he can’t take it anymore. The longest you’ve gone without talking to each other since you’ve met has been like 12 hours and his overwhelming feelings for you are not helping.

In a dazed and desperate moment at 4 a.m., he buys a plane ticket back to LA for the next afternoon without telling you or his family why. When the time for his flight arrives, he packs his stuff back up and gives half-assed responses to his family’s questions and concerns. He tells them he’ll explain it to them soon and rushes out the door, practically diving into the Uber.

You’re sitting at home at around 10 p.m., reading a book in your bed. This is the first time you’re enjoying yourself since the debacle with Matt and it’s raining in LA, which is a rare and very welcome sight, to you at least. You’re humming softly as you read and listen to the downpour of the rain on your roof.

At one point, you hear a knock on your apartment door. You get confused as it’s too late for a package and it’s pouring rain. You hesitantly get out of bed, placing your book down on your nightstand and moving to the door.

You stand by it for a moment, waiting to see if there’s another knock as you’re slightly worried for your safety. After a few seconds, there’s a louder knock, making you jump slightly. You take a deep breath and slowly unlock the door and open it.

You yelp as you see a drenched Matt standing on your doorstep, looking at him in pure shock for a moment before tugging him inside the warmth of your house. “W- what the fuck are you doing here?! Don’t you have two more weeks in Boston??”

“I-I had to come back…needed to be here…” he pants out, his cheeks flushed red. You quickly grab him a towel, wrapping it around him. “What?? Why?” You ask, still shocked. He holds the towel around him gratefully, huffing softly. “The voice message I sent you…” he starts.

You blush softly as memories of his moans flood your mind, but you quickly shake them, mustering up a small, “oh…” He gulps, continuing his sentence, his cheeks getting darker and darker as he speaks, “I-I’m so fucking sorry…that was an accident and I didn’t mean to send it. I know it made you uncomfortable because you didn’t answer- obviously it made you uncomfortable I- I’m just so sorry I-“ He starts rambling.

You quickly stop him by placing a hand on top of his and leading him to sit down on your couch. “Hey, relax…” You think for a moment, finding the right words. “It didn’t make me uncomfortable, Matt…it just really confused me…”

He groans softly “I’m so sorry it was an accident…I dropped my phone on my chest and it- did that…” You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Wait hold on…how did that even happen? How did it move from a different app to our messages on its own and start the voice message?”

He somehow blushes even deeper, looking away. “I-I was already in our messages when I-um started…” You get even more confused until you remember the picture you’d sent him, your cheeks tinting pink. “O-oh…you were- to the picture I sent?” You ask, just being sure you’re on the same page.

“Y-yes…” he practically whimpers out in mortification. “I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to make things weird…we can just ignore this…pretend I don’t feel the way I do…” he begs, not wanting to lose what he has with you. You sigh softly, feeling guilty because the fact that you didn’t call him or say anything about the voice message was obviously making him feel crazy and ended up making him cut his family visit short.

“Shit…no we’re not gonna ignore this...” He’s somehow convinced himself you’re gonna tell him you never want to see him again. “W-what??” You decide to just blurt it out, not wanting to keep the secret any longer, especially since you’re sure he feels the same now, finishing your sentence. “…Because…I-i feel the same way…”

His eyes go wide and his mouth drops open in shock. For what feels like hours, but was only like a minute, you just look at each other, the only sound in the room being him dripping water onto your couch. You don’t say a word, desperate for him to just say something.

“A-are you serious…?” Is all he can get out in his state. You just nod softly, feeling like you’d rather go into a hole and never come out than speak right now. There’s another moment of silence before he speaks again. “How long?” Is all he says. Your cheeks turn red as you realize what he’s asking, speaking softly. “How long have I had feelings for you?” He nods.

You swallow, taking a deep breath for a moment before telling him. “Since the day we met I think…” He somehow gets even more shocked, unable to believe you’ve liked him just as long as he’d liked you. “Holy shit…me too…” It’s your turn to be shocked now, your eyes going wide. “W-what??” Is all you can muster. He decides to fuck it, spilling the secret he’s been holding for almost two years.

“Fuck, I’m in love with you…I have been for so long.” He practically whispers, his heart racing and his cheeks bright red. You do the only thing can think of in the moment, quickly moving closer on the couch, not caring how soaked he is, and pressing a kiss to his lips.

𝚊/𝚗: ugh I hate this I swear the next part will be better…I am SO sorry for the people that waited so long for this just for there to be nothing juicy, but I promise it’s coming! Thanks for the support and any feedback is appreciated or comments about anything at all are welcome! xx

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @mattscumslutt @courta13

[almond-moons-blog]

Oh how the Tables Have Turned

Summary:

Right after The Six Legged Pentathlon, and after the group really started to gain trust in eachother, Hyun-Ju finds Young-Mi facing some doubts. She tries to help, but ended up getting the tables turned on her, and sealing away her fate, and pride in the process.

Warnings: ten tons of absolute marshmallow type fluff-

Lee: Hyun-Ju (slight ler near ending)

Ler: Young-Mi (slight lee near ending)

The numbers on the clock ticked by, signaling lights out soon. The team just had a victory earlier that day, albeit by a very close call. So maybe that's why Young-Mi was feeling down.

She couldn't exactly pinpoint why she felt this way, but she had a idea, and it was clear the feeling was fear.. they had a close call this time, who's to say it won't be too late tomorrow?

As Young-Mi sat curled up on her bunk, Hyun-Ju took notice of this, and there was no way she was just going to walk past, knowing her little sister friend was upset.

Hyun Ju's expression morphed into a slight frown as she saw Young-Mi, but she the plastered on a comforting smile, and sat next to Young-Mi.

"Hey.. you alright..?" she asked, worry and slight concern seeping through her smiling facade, eventually dropping it a bit to show Young-Mi she was worried. She then hesitantly and carefully placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Young-Mi hesitated. She felt fearful about the thought of what Hyun-Ju might think of her worries, but at the same, it's Hyun-Ju. There's no way she'd do that, and there's no way Young-Mi could bring herself to lie to her.

"I.. no.." Young-Mi stammered, pausing as she tilted her head to the side slightly to face Hyun-Ju as she paused, before eventually continuing in a shaky mumble.

"I-im scared.."

Hyun-ju's faze softened immediately into a now genuinely comforting gaze. She then moved a bit closer to Young-Mi and spoke softly. "Hey.. we all are.. it's nothing to be ashamed of.." She spoke, her voice oozing with comfort.

Young-Mi blinked, glancing to the side. "I know.. but.. today we almost lost Unnie.. who's to say that we'll make it at all during the next game..?"

Hyun-ju's eyes softened more at the Unnie comment, but understood Young-Mi's concerns. "Hey.. look at me.." She spoke, taking Young-Mi's hands in her own. Her go-to way of comfort.

"I know today was a close call.. but.. we have a strong team.. we're gonna make it through these games.. I believe in you.. we'll survive, I promise.." She spoke, rubbing Young-Mi's hand comfortingly with her thumb.

Young-Mi couldn't help but Crack a small, soft smile at Hyun-ju's insistence. She instinctively returned Hyun-ju's gesture as she looked up at her, but that's when it immediately started going south, at least for Hyun-Ju.

Young-Mi's hands were placed in a way where her thumb was directly on Hyun-ju's palm, so that's exactly where she felt the small tracing motions, and obviously, it tickled.

As soon as Hyun-Ju felt the tingly sensation, she knew she was done for if Young-Mi put two and two together.

A small squeak escaped her lips, and it turned into a small stiffled giggle as she instinctively flinched away.

Young-Mi blinked in surprise as she froze for a moment, she didn't quite understand at first, so she reached back for Hyun-ju's palm and repeated the small motion, only to receive a similar reaction.

As soon as this happened, the gears immediately began to turn inside her head, making the connection, and getting the one idea that scared Hyun-Ju most right now.

Hyun-ju could clearly see what she was thinking, and the panic was clear on her face, albeit light-hearted.

"Y-Young-Mi.. we-we can talk about this.." She stammered, trying to back away slowly on the bunk, but Young-Mi followed her movements.

"Unnie.." She responded back as her plan finished formulating in her mind. She had tested the waters, so there was no way she was passing this up.

She then moved forward and wrapped Hyun-Ju in a loose hug. Hyun-Ju was just about to return the hug and relax, but that was quickly changed.

While Young-Mi had Hyun-ju's guard down, she tightened the small hug slightly, before softly tracing small shapes onto her sides and occasionally skittering her fingers across Hyun-ju's stomach, much to her dismay.

Hyun-ju immediately slammed her hand over her mouth to stiffle her laughs out of embarrassment as she gently tried to wrestle Young-Mi off of her, although to no avail.

"W-wait! Young-Mi-! St-stahp..! Pleasee..!" She tried, still trying to muffle her small bouts of laughter.

Young-Mi couldn't help but let out a small laugh of her own at Hyun-ju's reaction. "Nooo!~" she spoke in a slight sing-song voice, as she was starting to get used to this, and get a bit confident. It was nice to hear the woman laugh in such a silly way, so if Young-Mi could do something to make that happen, she would absolutely go through with said action.

Hyun-ju had completely given up on the attempts to push her off, because one, she didn't want to hurt Young-Mi, or her feelings, and two, she seemed pretty persistent on her plan no matter what. So, Hyun-ju just had to settle on at least trying to be as quiet as she could, though that plan had failed pretty quickly since Young-Mi countined like this for a few minutes.

But after a little bit, Young-Mi decided that it was time to wrap up the tickle session pretty soon, and let the poor woman have a break.

But, since she knew she was about to end this, she wanted to make the final moments count.

So, after thinking for a moment, she decided to move spots for a bit. And that spot, was her Unnie's hips.

Hyun-ju was dead.

She almost immediately squealed and broke into uncontrollable giggles as her movements became a bit more panicked.

Young-Mi ultimately decided that she'd had enough, and went back to loosely hugging Hyun-Ju, like she had done before all this had began.

Hyun-ju then caught her breath as the remaining giggles dissolved into the air, and her gaze and movements immediately softened at the sight and feeling of Young-Mi's gentle actions. After she fully came back to her senses, she wrapped her arms around Young-Mi, returning the hug as she laid back slightly, still holding Young-Mi as if she was her own family.

"Your lucky I care about you.." Hyun-Ju mumbled softly with a teasing edge to her voice as she tilted her head slightly, poking Young-Mi in the side gently.

Young-Mi couldn't help but curl up and giggle a bit at the small gesture, though it would be a lie if she said that she didn't enjoy it.

As Young-Mi giggled, Hyun-ju's gaze softened even more, if it was even possible at that point. She then sighed softly and ruffled Young-Mi's hair affectionately.

Hyun-ju didn't go back to her bunk that night, and it was pretty safe to say they got a nice amount of sleep for the first time since they entered these stupid games.

Although it definitely earned some teasing from Geum-Ja in the morning once she found them..

They didn't regret one little moment.

Authors Note:

OMGG I LUV HOW THIS CAME OUT IM GENUINELY TWEAKING OUTTT ❤❤ these sillies need more happiness, and we're gonna pretend this is an AU where Young-Mi doesn't die, mkay? Also, I would like to tag this alpha: @estelle-skully, as alot of Young-Mi and Hyun-ju's mannerisms in this fic came from they're Hyun-Ju headcanons and overall opinions and ideas, so anyone who's reading this, be sure to check out that sigma's blog. Trust me, it's worth it.