#sorry this took so long to answer life has been a little hard and exhausting atm | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silassinclair · 10 months ago

Note

Hi! It's me the "Maddox with a sassy y/n" annon. Omg i just saw your post and it made my Whole Week! 😭

Thank you so much!

Anyway, i have a new request (if that is alright). I saw that you have a yandere Boxer but i didn't see to much info on him.

Could we get an introduction or some information for him? I'm really curious.

As always, have great day/night! ✨

Sorry this took a while to answer, just came back from the Philippines and I saw this req in my inbox. I’ve been waiting to write for him so now I have the chance to!! Hope you like it :D Also the beginning of this is really long, boring, and angsty but bear with me ya'll :) Also the Russian is google translate so it may be inaccurate :(

Masterlist Here!!

Next Part Here!!

Yandere Boxer x Reader

Viktor Markov was not the man you thought he was; well, not anymore. You both were raised in a small eastern European town. Him being the boy next door; always covered in dirt and was the sweetest little boy who would bring you flowers and bugs that he found. And you were the weird little girl who would collect the rocks and flowers that he gifted you with a smile. So naturally the two of you became friends, two peas in a pod.

He always had your back and you always had his. Growing up together in eastern Europe was hard. Both of you came from a pretty rough neighborhood and home life but that didn't stop you two from being happy. After all you only needed each other. It was just you two against the world. And it was like that for years.

Well, that was until high school. Viktor stopped talking to you in Sophomore year. Your calls went ignored, socials un-interacted, and texts delivered. So you just gave up. You no longer chased after him or begged him to tell you what was wrong when all he did was give you a cold shoulder. And honestly, you just didn't want to be around him anymore.

He got in with a bad crowd. Some upperclassmen guys who would just skip class to smoke. And seeing your childhood best friend become one of them broke your heart. You tried, you really did. But instead the blonde snapped at you, telling you to stop acting like his Mother and that he didn't need you anymore. And he was right, Viktor was more grown up now. Hard jawline, firm muscles, and standing at a staggering 6'3 feet tall.

He didn't need your back anymore.

And you didn't need his.

High school was a blur. You kept to your studies and only had a small circle of friends that consisted of all girls who have all been friends longer than before you ever came around. You were the grass friend. They all walked on the sidewalk while you trailed behind to the side; always stepping in the mud and grass. They weren't really your friends, you just didn't want to be alone. And they didn't see you as a friend, they just didn't want you to be alone. Pitiful isn't it?

But none of it mattered. It was all over and done in the blink of an eye. After high school was university and in university was medical school and after medical school was a new beginning. Being a docotor was never really your dream. It was your parent's dream and they just wanted the best for their little girl. You didn't want to disapoint them and go to culinary school like what you really wanted. So you worked and went to med school at the same time.

It was hard. It really was. You have no friends, no social life, and no one has your back. Yet it's your job to have people's backs. Ironic and unfair. But that's life.

Money was getting tight. Paying off student loans and working multiple jobs was getting exhausting. Living? No, it felt like you were dying. But you got offered a job you could not refuse. A patient came into your office. It was an older man in his early 50s.

"You're quite quiet for a doctor." He says. "Shy thing are you?"

You give him a silent nod. Hopefully this conversation doesn't take the turn you don't want it to take. Getting harassed by patients as a woman doctor is scarily common.

"I need a doctor. One like you; diligent, quiet, and quite the eye candy. Work for me krasivyy (beautiful). The pay is better than working in this heap clinic."

You eye him oddlyand whisper, "Why do you need me? Do you want me to be one of those underworld doctors or something? If so then no. I won't be patching up assassins or serial killers."

The man laughs, his voice booming in the small examination room.

"No no. You won't be dealing with any of those type. But this still is underground as you say. I own an underground boxing ring. And I need a doctor to patch up my fighters. Illegal, but good pay no?

You thought about it for two minutes then finally gave your answer.

“When do I start?”

The man’s name is Radko. And right now you’re in his gym. It’s dark, stinky, and full of shirtless men training for their next match. You thought you felt out of place in school? Nope, this is 100x worse. And some of these guys are acting like they’ve never seen a woman before.

“Stop looking at me like that weirdo.” You think to yourself while walking past a guy on a bench who’s wiping the sweat off his chest. His hungry gaze on you sends shivers down your spine.

“Ignore their stares.” Radko puts a rough hand on your shoulder. “They’re not used to seeing pretty women.”

“Yeah I can see that.” You mutter.

You two stop in front of the door near the back of the gym. It says “Clinic” in front of the door. He opens the door and you’re greeted with a surprisingly clean office. Radko must have cleaned up a little when he knew you would be coming.

“This is where you’ll be. Some guys will walk in pretty roughed up. Just patch em up abd send them on their way. If any of em try anything with you, you tell me right away. Okay?”

Radko was like a Dad and you liked that about him. A pretty intimidating Dad who owns an illegal boxing ring but what does that matter. Doesn’t particularly make him a bad person.

“Okay. Thank you.” You say with a warm smile.

“Ah you’re so milyy (cute)! Please don’t quit within the first week, I don’t think my heart can handle it if you go.” Radko says and hugs you. You give the big man a pat on the back in return.

“I’ll leave you to it now. You’ll receive your pay bi-weekly. See you now.”

And with that you were left alone. You were left in a small private clinic you could call your own. Maybe this job wouldn’t be as bad as you thought? But all positive thoughts flew out the window when your first patient of the day walked in.

Tall, pale, short blonde hair, scarred torso, muscle on muscle, and piercing blue eyes. All features of someone whom you thought you would never see again. Who you never wanted to see again.

“Kroshechnyy?” (Tiny)

God that nick name. There was a time it would make you smile and laugh. But now it just pissed you off. He had the audacity to call you that as if you two were still buddy buddy? No, fuck that. Fuck him.

“It’s Y/n to you now. What do you want Viktor?”

The man’s face creased with pain. Not physical, no, something worse.

“What are you doing here? This place isn’t for you.” His voice was a deeper timbre from when you last spoke to him Sophomore year. He walks closer to you and you can smell his sweat from training but also… Jean Paul Gaultier? Why would you wear designer fragrance at a gym? Weirdo.

Little did you know when he saw you walk in the gym he immediately raced to the locker room to freshen up and see you.

“I’m a doctor. I got a side job from Radko.” You explain swiftly. “If you’re uninjured then please leave. Other patients may come in with actual reasons to see me.”

Rather than face to face you’re face to chest with him. How the hell did he get so tall? You crane your neck up to meet his eyes.

His expression stiffens. His usual cold demeanor returns.

“You shouldn’t be here. This place isn’t for you. It’s dangerous.”

You roll your eyes. “I think I can manage. Now please leave me alone. You’re the last person I ever want to see.”

Viktor ignores the comment and his gaze remains ice cold. You nearly shiver, did the room temperature drop?

“Stop acting childish. Tell Rad that you quit.”

“But I’m not quitting.”

He steps closer.

“I’ll make you.”

“And what are you gonna do?”

He bends down to your level and scoffs.

“I don’t need to lift a finger. You’ll get scared and run off with your tail between those little legs of yours. These men here will eat you alive.”

Did he not think you knew that before you signed up for all this? You were aware of what you walked into. Underground gym, surrounded by men, all physically fit to the max. They could rip you in half. But you needed this job. There wasn’t time to be afraid.

“Yeah yeah I know. I don’t need your lecture. Now get out before I tell Radko.”

Viktor leans closer. His nose mere centimeters from yours.

“Don’t come crying to me when you get hurt.”

“If I get hurt then I’ll just patch myself up. I didn’t go through 4 years of med school just to cry when I’m in pain.”

The tall Russian growls lowly to himself and leaves, not before slamming the door of course.

“Fuck…”

This new job of yours just got worse tenfold.

It’s been about two weeks since you started working here. And you’ve met all of Radko’s men. They weren’t as bad as you thought they would be. Yeah they would flirt with you but not in the gross way. They knew when to quit.

Well, all of them except for Vladimir. The same one who eyed you like a piece of meat the first day you came here. Everyday he would come to the clinic to shoot his shot. And everyday you turned him down.

“Little kotenok (kitten) is still feisty.” Vladimir clicks his tongue. He manspreads in the examination chair, flexing his ab muscles and turning his head to the side to show off his impressive jawline. But all it does is un-impress you.

“If you’re going to waste my time like this everyday then I’m going to tell Radko.” You firmly state and cross your arms.

Like a kicked puppy the boxer whines, “Nooooo. I’m sorry please don’t kick me out. This is the only room besides Coach’s that is air conditioned.”

You can’t help but chuckle at that.

“Not my problem, do an ice bath or something.”

Vladimir chuckles and goes to say something else but stops himself when he sees and hears the door open. You also turn your attention to the door, wondering who it is and why they didn’t knock.

“Get out.” Viktor says. His voice like stone, as is his glare. His bloody swollen eye only ads to his intimidating aura.

Vladimir gets out of the chair and groans. “Way to be a cockblock Vicky.” He says mockingly.

You were about to shoot in and say how there was no way you would give him the light of day but Viktor had other plans. His fist makes contact with Vladimir’s abdomen with a mean punch. Making the other man wheeze and keel over in pain.

“Get the fuck out.” Viktor grabs him by the hair and kicks him out of the office. Literally. The door then slams shut, leaving you alone with your heated childhood friend.

“Thanks…” You mutter. Unable to look into his eyes, well… eye. The other is swollen shut.

He grunts and sits on the examination bed. Getting into doctor mode you walk over to Viktor and assess the damage. There’s a few bruises on his ribs but his eyes seem to be the worst. Delicately you touch part of the bruised eye and he inwardly flinches, making you draw your hand back in an instant.

“What happened?” You softly ask.

“Alexei sucker punched me. Dick.”

You stifle a laugh, making your patient deadpan. “Typical Alexi. I’ll tell him off the next time he comes in here complaining about his stomach aches.”

Viktor and you are silent when you rub ointment on his bruises. After the ointment is all done you hand him an icepack.

“Use this for the eye.”

He nods and thanks you with a silent nod. Then, he leaves just like that.

After that you would see more of Viktor and less Vladimir. To be honest you’ve been seeing less of everyone. Everyday Viktor came in with new reasons to come to you. Headaches, head trauma, bruises, scratches, and the worst was a dislocation.

“What is it this time?” You don’t even need to face the door to know who it is.

“He needs help!”

You whip around immediately, nearly spilling your coffee. You see Alexi and Cain at the door and draped over their shoulders is an unconscious Vladimir. You run over to them and tell them to lay Vladimir down on the bed gently while you assess his condition.

“What happened!?” You say worriedly. He was barely breathing. You begin doing chest compressions.

“We found him outside. Some of those bastards from west gym probably did this to him…” Cain says, his eyes are full of rage.

The compressions aren’t working. So instead you ready up the life support. He won’t last long with traumatic brain injuries like this.

“What’s gonna happen to him Doc?” Alexi sounds the most worried. He’s just a kid, only being 17.

“I’m putting him under life support.” And it was damn hard to do it on your own.

“Thank you.” Cain says. He puts a hand on the small of Alexi’s back. “Let’s leave her alone. She’s busy.”

The two men leave. Leaving you alone with Vladimir who has one foot in hell. No offense Vladimir, but no way you’re going to heaven. All day you stay by Vladimir’s side. Other men come in to check on him or get patch ups. And you go about your job, leaving the unconscious man to rest on the bed.

If I knew she would be stuck to his side like glue then I never would have beaten the fucker half to death. The plan was to kill him but the stubborn bastard just didn’t want to die. I watch Y/n from outside the clinic. The window’s blinds are open. She’s so close yet so far; always out of my reach. Part of it is my fault. I was the one who pushed her away after all.

But I had no choice. I didn’t want her involved with the people I was involved with in high school. I needed them in order to get some side jobs. Hell, a couple of them box for Radko too at this gym. I thought Y/n would be gone from my life for good, but I was wrong. I thought God was punishing me for the things I have done but it seems like he took pity on me just this once by bringing her back to me and letting me have a second chance.

But so far I’m making no progress. What even is love? I know I love her but I don’t know how. All I know is that I need to protect her from all the wolves here. I already staked my claim on her but one fucker didn’t want to listen. Vladimir, that egotistical thorn in my side. The next chance I get I'll kill him for good. It's not like this is my first time killing for her after all.

High school was when I first took someone's life. Some upperclassman bitch was harassing Y/n. I couldn't stand watching her suffer. And I couldn't comfort her like before when we were young; by this time I already cut off Y/n for good. But I knew there was something I could do. So I killed her. And I killed anyone who dared breathe Y/n's name wrong.

I'll do whatever I can to protect the love of my life. Slowly, little by little, I'll win her back. She'll be mine again and we'll be even closer than friends. But for now I'll do what I can to keep her safe from the sidelines. Even if it means she'll find out and hate me forever.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #x reader #yandere oc #obsession #viktor markov #oc x reader #fem reader

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h3nderyss · 5 months ago

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under the same sky - lee taeyong

pairing: idol!lee taeyong x idol!fem!reader . . . masterlist genre: fluff, angst, getting deep in the feels! yearning, soo in love word count: 869 a/n: taeyong being absolutely smitten for reader :( i took this inspo from the song sun & moon by nct 127

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

the room was quiet, the bustling noise of the city outside being blocked off by the walls of your apartment. you sat curled up on the bed, your phone held tightly in your hand as you waited for the familiar ringtone. the seconds felt like hours until it finally buzzed, taeyong's name lit up the screen.

you answered immediately, his face filling the small display. he was in a hotel room, the soft glow of moonlight pouring through the window in front of him, casting delicate shadows across his features.

his hair was tousled, and his eyes carried the weariness of someone who had given their everything on stage.

"hey," he said softly, his voice like a balm for your restless mind.

"hi," you replied, your heart swelling at the sight of him.

"why aren't you asleep? i know you told me to call you when i got back to the hotel but, i expected you to be asleep." he softly chuckled.

you shook your head, "just because you're in china doesn't mean we have like a 5 hour time difference. i'm only staying in korea for the time being before my group goes on tour." you smile seeing his face you missed on screen. "how are you though? you seem exhausted."

he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "i'm okay. tired, but it's worth it when i think about you."

you smiled, a mix of affection and longing washing over you. "i missed you."

"i missed you too," he said, his gaze softening as he leaned closer to the camera. "it's been harder than i thought, being so far from you. everytime i finish a show, all i want is to tell you about it, but you're not here."

your chest tightened at his words. you could see the ache in his eyes, the same ache that had been reciprocated by you.

"i feel it too," you say quietly, "the distance. but i remind myself that it's temporary. and that we're under the same sky, no matter where we are."

he smiled at that, his lips curling into the gentle expression you loved so much. "you always know how to make me feel better."

the two of you talked for a while, falling into the easy rhythm of your conversations. you asked about the tour, and he asked about your day and busy schedules. he laughed when you told him about the chaos of your morning, and you smiled when he told stories about what happened on stage and moments with the members that wouldn't be shown in behind the scenes videos.

but as the conversation quieted, so did his voice, becoming more serious. "can i say something?"

"of course," you said, sitting up a little straighter, sensing the weight behind his words.

"i've been thinking a lot," he began, his voice low and deliberate. "about us. about how lucky i am to have you in my life. this tour has been incredible, but it's also made me realize something... you're my home. no matter how many cities i see or stages i stand on, nothing feels right without you there."

your breath caught in your throat, the intensity of his confession making your heart race. "taeyong..."

"i'm sorry if that's too much," he said quickly, his eyes searching yours through the screen. "but i needed to tell you. because even though distance is hard, it's worth it. you're worth it."

tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, his words cutting through every doubt and fear you'd been holding onto. "it's not too much," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "i feel the same way. everyday i look at the moon, and i think of you. it makes me feel like we're connected, no matter how far apart we are."

he smiled then, his expression softening into something vulnerable and beautiful. "you always say the right thing. that's one of the many reasons i love you."

your heart soared at his words, the raw honesty in his tone making it impossible to hold back your emotions. "i love you too, bubu. so much."

for a moment, neither of you spoke, letting the weight of your feelings settle in the silence. the moonlight bathed the room in a gentle glow, and it felt as though time itself had paused to hold this moment for you.

"i wish i could be there right now," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

"i wish you could too," you replied, your fingers brushing against the screen as if you could somehow reach him.

"i'll be back soon," he promised, his eyes locking onto yours with a quiet intensity. "and when i am, we'll make up for every moment we missed."

you nodded, a small smile breaking through your tears "i'll hold you to that."

as the night stretched on, you stayed on the call, neither of you wanting to let go after this heartfelt moment. you talked about the future, about all the places you wanted to go together and the memories you wanted to make.

and when you finally fell asleep, the phone still in your hand facing the ceiling slightly, taeyong stayed on the line overnight.

no matter the distance, you knew you'd always find each other under the same sky.

#nct x reader #nct fluff #taeyong x reader #lee taeyong x reader #lee taeyong fluff #nct 127 x reader #lee taeyong #h3nderyss #taeyong imagines #taeyong scenarios #taeyong fanfic #nct imagines #nct 127 fanfic #nct fanfic #nct 127 imagines

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mcsterio · 1 year ago

Text

Never Forget.

(WARNING: NSFW MDNI !!)

You and Punk have recently started dating over the weeks, and you can say it the best time of your life the past few weeks has been a blur being with him.

————————————————————————

You just finished up your match on Monday Night Raw against Dakota Kai exhausted after Damage CTRL jumped you after the match, so left the building right after going to your hotel room.

You were laying on the bed eyes getting heavy, until they popped wide open from Punk which you answer.

"Hey." You said in soft but deep low voice showing you were getting sleepy, as you rubbed your eyes.

"Did you leave?" He asked on his end from not seeing you backstage anymore in frantic voice.

"Yeah something wrong?" You answered shaking a bit of the sleepiness off, finding it weird that he called to ask you wondering if he was in trouble.

"Why didn't you tell me? You could have at least told me goodbye." That answered your question why he called, his Clingy side was showing.

"Sorry after Damage CTRL jumped me after my match I was exhausted and sore which I still am, but I went straight to out hotel room."

"I'm on my way, I just finished my segment."

"Okay see you soon."

"Just know when i get there, you'll be punished for not telling me goodbye."

Before you reply he hanged back knowing exactly what the punishment was, 10 minutes later you heard a knock at the door immediately knowing it Punk as the door creaked open his head showing before coming in fully seeing him in jeans and a t shirt but with the arm sleevs cut.

"Punishment time..."

Punk locked the door straighting to take his jeans, t-shirt, and boxers, once he was done you signaled you to come to him, you walked over to only be undressed by the man. Before you knew it your panties, bra, and wrestling gear on the floor as Punk grabbed his now hard cock rubbing it against your clit teasing you for a minute before putting every inch of it in you. He put one leg the bed thrusting fast as the plap sounds echoed.

After pounding you for good time he turned you around making you face him immediately putting his throbbing cock in your mouth, you started to suck it as he put his hand on the back of your head making you put every inch in your mouth as you held onto his ass choking gaging trying to take it out. Punk kept you choking a little longer before taking his hand of your head letting you breathe, after you got some air you went back head bobbing back and fourth sucking it for a long time. Punk then took your head out putting a hand on your chin making you look at him while he jerked off.

"Never do that again, say bye to me before leaving got it?"

"Mhm." You said immediately nodding as your hair was messed up, as you looked up at him seeing him jerk off.

"Good pup, now stand there and let daddy cum on that pretty face of yours."

He said jerking off a bit before lifting his cock up shooting his cum all over your face, once he finished he leaned in kissing you.

"Clean or Lick it up so we cuddle."

After you cleaned it you both cuddled naked and went to sleep, getting taught a lesson to never leave before telling him.

————————————————————————

THE END

I'm getting better at this, but show this some love too show the Dom some more love too but bye !! 🫶🏻

#cm punk #cm punk x reader #wwe #wwe raw

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 11 months ago

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Hey, I really like your story so keep up the good work. Can you do a story about gardener turned maid x Donna. She and Donna were childhood friends, (y/n) always plays with Donna when she was a child. (y/n) also has a hard pass, she was only adopted by the previous gardener but never really took care of her but she sees him as her father anyway. (y/n) is always alone and seeks solace around Donna. When Donna's parents died she shut herself out and which made her feel even more alone. But then the lady got out and asked if she could ve her maid. This is also and excuse to be close to her again because she always admired and loved (y/n) from afar. They got closed again then (y/n) stole a kiss from Donna. Donna got angry and left. They haven't talk for days but she confess to her that she loves (y/n) as well. They were happy until one time (y/n) felt a pain in her chest, it's so painful that she loss consciousness while tending the garden, Donna became worried and took her to her room. (y/n) woke up and looked at herself in the mirror, what she saw is horrible. A giant lump is growing on her chest and some nerves are visible from it to the neck and it's dark. Donna told her it was a cadou. (y/n) demanded answers from her and Donna just told her everything what mother miranda told her during her implantation and that it's been killing her to keep that from her lover. She wanted to confront miranda to get some answers on her own. Donna told her it wasn't a good idea because she will die. Then night came and (y/n) and kissed Donna goodbye while she's asleep because there is was never really a happy ending for the both of them. She confronted miranda to get some answers, they fought while miranda was telling her that she was a failed experiment.

Good ending - Donna found her and treated her wounds and they were together again

Bad ending - Donna found her body the next day dead. Years later she still mourned for her and that she slowly looses her sanity because of it.

Note: I'm sorry it is very long but I trust that you could make a story out of this and also English isn't my first language either. And write both of the ending to give the readers some perspective about the 2 endings. Thank you

Yess!!! It's a very good plot, thank you!!! Well, I don't like bad endings, so I chose the good one. You said that you wanted the two of them and... Well, I'm going to post it later if you're okay with that!!! Anyway, thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

The friend you were used to be

Pairing: Donna Benviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: angst, dark themes, mentions of abuse, Donna being Donna, fluff, blood, Cadou, Reader POV

Word count: 10,077

Summary: Sometimes life is so unfair...

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

The pain is almost unbearable. My hands are unable to contain the blood that flows from my wound. I scream, I cry, but no one listens to me, there is no one in this dark place. Thinking that it would be the day of my death does not scare me, I was the one who went to that place. It was me who chose the day of my death, and not her. With an exhausting effort, I manage to turn around and look at the full moon through the rubble of the underground cathedral.

“Such a magnificent view,” I say, closing my eyes, breathing in pain. My bandages are torn and my soul is condemned. How did I get here? Why did my life have to end like this?

Pointless questions when the darkness is so close. I once heard someone say that when you were about to die, you might be able to see your life flashing before your eyes. It's certainly not something I feel like doing. If I have to die, let it be remembering you, my love, the only light that made me keep hope. But I feel the need to go back, to when this started...

20 years ago…

“And then I found a cave with a lot of strange black trees,” I said, talking about that little walk around the village.

“A cave?” My friend, Donna, asked, listening to me curiously while we played tea with her doll.

“Yes, yes, a huge and very deep cave,” I reaffirmed, pretending to take a sip from my empty toy cup.

It was an afternoon like many others, at the house of my friend, my only friend, Donna Beneviento.

My father, or rather, the man who called himself my father, worked for her family as a gardener. We lived isolated on the grounds of the Beneviento estate, almost as long as I can remember. Apparently, I was adopted shortly after birth.

I didn't care much about my origin either, not even that this man, Josef, didn't bother to pretend that he loved me. There was only one thing I liked to do, and that was to spend the afternoons with Donna.

She was four years older than me, she was 12 and I was 8. Despite that difference, nothing prevented us from playing with the dolls, talking, or laughing, like girls, like real friends. I couldn't blame her for seeking refuge in my friendship. She had her own problems. According to my father, she was an isolated, lonely and strange girl, who never left the grounds, who never spoke to anyone.

Maybe it was because of the lack of her right eye, which left a striking scar on her face, or maybe it was because she simply wasn't interested in humans. Whatever the case, Donna and I were friends. She needed me, and I needed her.

“So… What happened to you?” Donna asked, well, Angie, the doll that her father made for Donna so that she wouldn't feel so terribly alone. She was one more friend, even if it was only imagination.

“Well, I tripped, fell on a rock and fainted,” I said, putting my hand to the area of my chest that was still burning.

“You fainted?” The brunette asked, lying on the floor with her hands on her chin, listening attentively to my story.

I nodded, lying down too.

“I was unconscious for hours, until I woke up, outside the cave.”

“That's a lie!” Angie screamed, to which I clearly got angry.

“It's not a lie,” I protested in a childish manner, of course.

“Do you have any proof?” the older girl asked, looking at me suspiciously.

“Well yes, I have proof,” I said, showing the strange scar on my chest. “Look, Donna…”

“Wow... Does it hurt ?” She asked, reaching out towards the scar, changing distrust for curiosity. I shook my head, covering myself again.

“Sometimes,” I said, feeling good about the attention I had drawn from my friend.

“Donna, è l'ora delle tue lezioni,” Mrs. Beneviento's voice interrupted us, making Donna grimace in disgust.

“Ma mamma, stavo giocando con (Y/N)” the older girl protested, getting up and picking Angie up from its small chair.

“No complaints, Donna, besides, (Y/N)'s father will be worried, it's late,” the adult woman said, pointing to me. I woke up a little disappointed because of how short the afternoon had been. “Go home, it's getting dark and it’s dangerous.”

I protested with my eyes and nodded. After all, my father's job depended on them.

“Yes, ma'am,” I said politely, bowing my head respectfully. Donna's mother smiled tenderly at me, putting a hand on my back to guide me out.

“(Y/N),” the girl called to me, holding Angie in her arms. “Will you come tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I said, smiling as she said goodbye to me with a shy wave of her hands.

I wish I had known. I wish I had known that would be the last time I would play with my friend Donna. The next day I didn't go to her house, she didn't come to see me. That same night, something terrible happened.

Donna's parents died, both of them, jumping off the cliff that was right next to her house. Terrible, unexpected news.'

I remember the funeral…I remember how Donna couldn't stop crying.

A 12-year-old girl didn't have to have experienced that, it was unfair.

The following days were even worse. My father told me that Donna needed to be alone. Alone? A 12 year old girl alone in that big house? My mind couldn't understand it. As Donna's only friend, as an 8-year-old who wants to see her friend smile, I headed there for weeks.

“Donna, let's play,” I said, knocking on the door, waiting for an answer that wasn't a sob.

“I don't want to play,” a broken voice came from inside the house. “Go away, (Y/N)”

“Come on, Donna, please... Being alone is so boring. Look, I brought Mr. Whiskers, Angie's boyfriend. I'm sure she missed him,” I said in a childish, almost pleading voice. I couldn't lose Donna. It may have been a selfish feeling but, after all, I was only 8 years old.

“I don't want to play with you!” Donna screamed, desperate, which made me squeeze the doll tightly in my hands. “Go away!”

It didn't matter how many times I insisted, how many times I cried begging for a little time with her. I didn't see her again. Donna forgot about me, but I never, ever forgot about her.

Little by little I got used to her absence, to my loneliness. The months, the years passed slowly and I grew up alone, next to a man who didn’t take care of me, always leading my gaze to that place to which I never returned.

14 years ago…

“Father!” I screamed, covering my face with my hands. The blizzard intensified and made to walk properly impossible for me. “Hurry, we have to protect the house!”

It had been 6 years since I last saw Donna. She was a woman, not a girl. 14 years was not too many, but it was enough for new feelings to appear to torment me. Envy corroded me...

During all that time, only my father had been lucky enough to get close to the Beneviento estate, only he was allowed to take care of Donna. No matter how much I insisted, I couldn't do it. My father said that she was a strange girl, that it wasn't good for me to be around or disturb her, that Donna was only his responsibility, and not mine.

I tried to escape several times, stupidly thinking that I would be able to see her again, to talk to her after so many years. I didn't do it, I couldn't do it.

But that afternoon there were other problems to worry about. A terrible blizzard hit the place mercilessly, causing us to have to reinforce our house, nailing wooden planks to the windows.

“Stay here!” My father shouted, when he nailed the last plank.

“No, father, don't go!” I said, grabbing his arm.

“I have to see if Miss Donna is safe! Obey, (Y/N)!” He ordered me, breaking away from my grip and causing me to fall to the ground.

“Father, wait!” I shouted, standing up as best I could.

Donna could be in danger. That was the only thing I thought about as I crawled through the snow, feeling thousands of ice blades dig into my skin. I could barely walk for a few minutes. The road was blurry. There was no sign of my father, I wasn't even able to tell where I tripped and fell again, sinking into the snow.

“Help!” I shouted. It was useless. My screams were drowned out by the wind, by the snow, by the nervous crows trying to take shelter.

My vision cleared and then… Then I saw it.

A black figure was walking towards me. It looked like a woman, or something like a woman. Her walk was slow, elegant. She was carrying something in her arms. No, not something, it was someone. When she got close enough, my heart almost stopped.

Mother Miranda, protector of the village, its supreme authority, was right in front of me. The priestess clothing stood out against the snow, the golden tones of her mask made her look like a bird, something similar to a crow. In her arms, there was a young woman. Someone I couldn't recognize until she was too close.

That scar, that black hair… Donna Beneviento.

The one who was once my best friend was resting in Miranda's arms. She seemed unconscious, or something worse.

I tried to move, to reach out my hand towards her, but the cold prevented me to do so. The priestess's footsteps were already distinguishable on the ground. It was impossible for her not to have seen me.

She walked past me, carrying Donna in her arms. The blizzard didn't seem to be a problem for her at all.

"Donna..." I sighed, crawling a little as the figure slowly moved away from me. Miranda paused, perhaps out of pity, perhaps out of annoyance. She didn't help me, I barely felt her gaze on mine. What I did feel was her smile through that golden mask.

Miranda looked at me and I looked at her. Her figure remained completely oblivious to the snow and Donna seemed nothing but a dead weight in her arms.

I could hear her laughter, even today I would be able to swear that a terrible laugh came from the priestess. Slowly, she turned her head away from me again walking down the path. It had been 6 years without seeing Donna and I still wanted to save her, attack the priestess and take her to a safe place.

Miranda was good, or so they said. I never believed it. Seeing her was just a bad omen.

As time went by, I began to believe that this was just a dream, a mirage that the blizzard created for me. I soon realized that it was not.

“Adopted?” I asked, at one of the silent meals with my father. The man who didn't love me nodded, enjoying the food he forced me to make for him.

“Mother Miranda has taken pity on Miss Donna, she is her daughter now,” he explained, already drinking her second glass of wine.

“I don't understand. When I saw her, she seemed unconscious, she seemed...”

“Are you questioning Mother Miranda?” The man asked, abruptly, hitting the table with his fist. I backed away scared. In recent years, the behavior of the man who claimed to be my father had become unsustainable.

“No, father, I'm just saying that...”

“Shut your mouth and bring more wine! Don't dare to question Mother Miranda, (Y/N), not in this house.”

I nodded, with tears in my eyes. I still didn't understand anything. I still had a lot of unanswered questions. At least Donna was fine, better than ever according to my father. That's what he said. It had been too long since I had seen her, too long...

12 years ago…

Life continued its course. I, already 16 years old, had become accustomed to solitude, to the few pieces of the outside world that Josef told me about. That man was never my father. I would no longer call him as such. Hits, screams and beatings those were the summary of my existence, too much for a young girl like me.

I had no news about Donna. I didn't know what had happened to her, why Miranda had adopted her. I didn't know anything and the worst thing... The worst thing was that I cared less and less. Surviving Josef's wrath was the most important thing.

“You are a worthless girl!” The man shouted, hitting me hard on the cheek. “You are worthless!”

“Father, please, please, stop...” I begged crying, falling to the floor.

Alcoholism took away the little that was left of humanity in him. That morning, the idea of getting out of there was more present in my mind than ever.

“You will never be my family!” He shouted, stating a truth that I already knew. He had a family, his family died, he adopted me. That was the sum of his demons. I would never be his daughter. He would never be my father.

“I don't want to be your family!” I screamed furiously, struggling with his arms so he wouldn't hit me again. Taking advantage of his obvious state of intoxication, I managed to push him, to throw him to the floor with a thud.

“Stupid little girl...” He hissed, just when I was able to stand up. “You are going to pay for this!”

Josef pounced on me, ready to end everything, to kill me, to make me pay for having had to take care of me all those years. I, for the second time in my life, thought that it was the end, that it was the end of my disastrous life.

Just when his hands were about to make me gasp for breath, his gaze went from fury to bewilderment, relaxing his attempt to strangle me.

“Liza...” He murmured, as if he had heard something, as if someone had spoken to him. “Where are you?”

“What?” I asked, catching my breath.

Josef left the house like a wandering soul, looking for something that apparently only he was able to see.

“Yes... I will meet you,” the man said, walking towards the old estate, with a lost look.

It could have been a good opportunity to disappear from that place, but I didn't. Something strange was happening to Josef.

“Father?” I asked, trying in vain to put a hand on his shoulder, which he pushed away with a grunt.

“I'm coming, Liza…” He murmured again. “Yes, at the waterfall.”

“Waterfall?” I asked, scared by what that meant. “Father, wait…”

My attempt to stop him was even worse. He turned around, pushing me to the ground roughly. The only thing I could do was to watch as that man disappeared into the fog.

I sat under a tree, thinking about why I would want to save my father, who wasn't my father. I guess I was always stupid. I breathed relief and cried at the same time. For some reason, I knew I would never see him again.

When I raised my head from my knees, something scared me. A hand, a pale hand extended towards me. It was attached to a woman's body, dressed entirely in black, from head to toe, wearing a strange veil that hid her face.

The smell of her lavender and the softness of her hands were enough to know who I had in front of me. Donna.

I sobbed and used her hand to get up.

“It's all over, (Y/N)” a hoarse voice that came out of that veil whispered. It had nothing to do with that sweet voice from years ago. She was already a woman.

“What?” I said confused, blinking several times to make sure that what I was seeing was real, that Donna Beneviento, missing for years, was in front of me. “Donna… Is that you?”

The woman nodded slowly, moving away from my arm, which reached out toward her as if trying to fulfill a wish, something I had hoped to do for years.

“My God... Donna,” I sobbed, unable to contain all that torrent of feelings I felt when I saw her again, throwing myself into her arms. “It has been so long…”

She didn't hug me back, she just gasped in surprise, going completely still.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, again with that hoarse voice, forcing me to move away from her. I cried, I cried with emotion, with joy at seeing my only friend again.

“I thought... I thought you had... Oh, my goodness, Donna...” I stammered, remembering all the moments I had lived with her, all the laughter, the games, the teas with the Angie doll. My entire childhood was before my eyes.

“You're safe now,” she said, clearing her throat, with that same stoic pose, without making the slightest gesture to reflect that she was also happy to see me.

After a deep sigh, the woman in black turned around, ready to leave, to abandon me again. I couldn't allow it.

“Donna, wait, wait please,” I said, running after her, grabbing her arm. She stopped, but she didn't turn to look at me. “Please, please tell me, tell me what happened to you, why haven't you come to see me in all these years?”

She didn't respond, she just kept walking, slipping out of my grasp.

“Donna, please... Tell me what...” I said standing in front of her again. That horrible black veil made me shiver. “Why are you covering your face? What is that…?” I asked, taking one of my hands towards the woman in black.

I hissed in pain as her hand clamped down on my wrist, squeezing it too tightly.

“Donna, you're hurting me,” I protested, moving my hand away definitively. “My God, what happened to you? Josef told me that Mother Miranda….”

“Mother Miranda saved me,” the lady in black interrupted, releasing me, moving further away from me.

“What has she done to you, Donna? You don't seem like yourself...” I murmured, confused, surprised and disappointed at the same time.

“You know nothing about me” She said, now, turning around to turn her back on me again.

“You were my friend! My only friend!” I shouted, when she was far enough away.

“And you were mine, (Y/N)” she responded with a dark voice, looking at me over her shoulder.

“So what's going on? Why can't we just...? Wait...” I said, realizing something I had overlooked. Josef, I had forgotten about Josef. “What have you done to him? What have you done to my father?”

“He won't bother you anymore, (Y/N),” Donna responded, speaking naturally, ignoring what that statement implied. “Besides, he was never your father.”

“I... I don't... You don't...” I stammered. I was not old enough to take on all that stuff at once. Donna continued walking, disappearing again from my sight, from my life...

6 months ago…

12 years. 12 years have passed since the man who claimed to be my father disappeared. At first I didn't know what to do, how to act. I was too young to get out of there. I was too young to know what to do.

Donna didn't come back, I never heard from her again. I had two options: get out of there, escape from the village and never look back. The other one was... Different. My other option was to stay there, in that house, on those grounds. Alone, but free from Josef's yoke. I had no job, no family, and my only friend had built a huge wall between us.

In those 12 years I didn't see her, at least not physically. Sometimes, when I was trying to sleep, when I spent time tending the small orchard or the small garden that surrounded my house, I could feel a presence, as if someone was watching me.

I called her several times, knowing that it could only be her, that only Donna could be there. I never saw her, never, in 12 long years of loneliness.

I couldn't complain. I had a house, I could grow my food and I didn't lack the heat of the fire or the water from the old well. A sad, lonely life. Fortunately, I was already used to the crackling of the fire being my only company.

“Come on, come on...” I said grunting, holding the old wooden bookshelf I was trying to repair.

The house was falling apart, but I managed: I fixed cracks, covered windows... I was aware that this whole adventure would end the moment when, like in the story, someone blew and blew and my house would fell down. But it was not the time to accept reality, to assume that my life was never going to improve.

Every night, I struggled with the idea of not continuing to suffer, of ending what would have no solution.

“Shit!” I screamed furiously, dropping the wooden shelf as I hit my finger with the hammer in a comical way. Everything on the shelf fell apart. “Great, great, (Y/N)…” I murmured, leaning my head against the wall, suppressing the urge to tear down the house with my own hands.

“You keep it...” a familiar whisper made me open my eyes and turn around.

It was her, Donna, her black dress, her black veil, her dark figure before me after 12 years. I had to think if I was asleep or awake. Lady Beneviento remained still, behind me, holding the old doll that her father gave me on my seventh birthday.

“Donna...” I sighed confusedly, with my eyes wide open. “You…”

“What was his name?” She asked, making me shake my head and frown. 12 years old, Donna, 12 years old and all you're asking me what was the name of that stupid doll.

“It was Mr...” I murmured quietly, my hands shaking, not knowing how I was supposed to act seeing her again, just when I had assumed for years that Donna was nothing but a ghost from my past.

“Mr. Whiskers... Now I remember him. He was Angie's boyfriend,” she said, speaking with a tone that made me think she was smiling. 12 years and I couldn't even see her face.

“Yes... You remember it,” I said trembling, taking the doll from her hands, making the wooden limbs move to the rhythm of my trembling body.

“Yes, I remember when my father gave it to you. It was a funny birthday party,” the woman in black confirmed, walking towards the table where I used to eat. “I'm sure Angie would be happy to see him after so long.”

“Angie...” I sighed, shaking my head. I knew that Donna wasn't right in the head. I had known that since I was a little girl. I never gave it importance but... Hearing about Angie in that way, after so many years, from the mouth of an adult woman, made me stay alert.

“Don't worry, I left her at home, she won't bother you,” Donna murmured, sitting in the chair with a melancholic air around her.

“Donna, I...” I said, approaching, leaving Mr. Whiskers on the table. I still couldn't believe she was really there. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to talk to you, (Y/N)” she said with a soft tone, looking around her, observing the place where I lived.

“To me? After 12 years without talking to me, do you want to do it now?” I couldn't stop the fury from leaving my body. If only she knew how lonely I was all that time. At first I was sad, but later that feeling transformed into helplessness, and, over time, into apathy.

“I know it's been a long time and...” Donna started to say, but she was interrupted by my hand hitting the table hard, reminding me of that man who claimed to be my father.

“A long time? It was an eternity, Donna. Do you know how long I've wanted to see you again? Do you know how lonely I was after you locked yourself in that house? You were my only friend, and you abandoned me,” I said furiously.

“I don't...” She murmured, getting nervous, playing with the black fabric of her dress.

I took a deep breath and reached out to her face.

“What is this, huh? Why do you cover your face? What the hell are you…?” I asked while, after avoiding her attempts to stop me, I managed to remove the black cloth from her face, turning pale when I saw it. “Hiding…”

Donna stayed quiet, with a cold look on her face as I took in what she was seeing, shaking my head. The age was already evident on her face. Her features were no longer that of a girl, they were that of a woman... A beautiful woman, without a doubt, the most beautiful I had ever seen. She no longer had anything to do with that girl with whom I used to play hide and seek.

One horrible detail stood out from the rest of her features. That scar, that eye that was taken from her in an accident when she was barely 4 years old was no longer there, nor was there anything similar to that small scar.

A prominent, bulging abscess filled part of her face. I had never seen anything like it. But, although it was something horrible it was not so terrible as to hide or shadow her beauty in the slightest. Beauty? My loneliness was starting to take its toll on me.

“Gods...” I murmured, ignoring her incipient nervousness, her pathetic attempts to retrieve the veil from my hands. “Donna, what happened to you? Your face is…”

“Horrible, I know. Give it back to me,” she demanded, leaning over the table to reach her veil. I, still horrified and enthralled by her beauty, obeyed her, making her cover herself as quickly as she could.

“No, I...” I said, trying to fix the situation, wondering what terrible thing had happened. The answer was hidden in a dark corner of my mind. “It was her, right? Miranda did that to you.”

“You have no idea, (Y/N),” Donna hissed, adjusting her veil. “She…”

“Yes, she saved you. I already know that story,” I said with a superb tone, sitting in front of her and crossing my arms.

“It's impossible for you to understand,” Donna said in a dark tone, revealing a small embarrassing sob.

“You're right, Donna. I don't understand you, I don't understand anything. I don't know what that woman did to you. I don't understand what you're doing here after so many years.”

“I want to talk to you,” she said, with her hands trembling on the table. My eyes couldn't stop looking at them, at those pale, soft hands, those hands that saved me from death years ago.

“What do you want to talk about? Are you going to tell me why you haven't deigned to appear here in more than ten years?” I asked, tears threatening to run down my cheeks.

“Now I’m a Lord. I serve Mother Miranda,” The lady in black explained, ignoring my questions. I shouldn't have been surprised.

“You mean you sold your soul to that witch,” I corrected, risking seeing Josef's attitude in her. I didn't want to. I didn't want to see her that way.

“I'm not trying to convince you to understand me, (Y/N),” Donna said in a calmer tone, shifting her gaze away from mine.

“So what do you want?” I asked immediately, suppressing the urge to kick the table and throw myself at her neck to demand answers.

“My new siblings think that someone like me needs a maid,” she explained without any problem, without hesitation. That phrase made me burn with rage and laugh mockingly.

“What?”

“I don't know anyone else and I had thought that...” She continued speaking, with a tremor in her voice, probably because of my attitude.

“I don't believe you, Donna. I don't think you're asking me... Do you want me to serve you? It can't be true...” I said with a sarcastic smile, with all my emotions fighting to come out.

“I don't want you to serve me, (Y/N),” she said. “That's just a formality.”

“A formality...” I repeated, increasingly confused. “I mean, you come after 12 years to talk to me, to ask me to be your maid or something... But you say it's just a formality... Donna... You better speak clearly before I lose my patience,” I said, perhaps taking too many freedoms. The idea that Donna Beneviento was now one of the four pillars that supported Miranda's dominance was terrifying, but not enough to overshadow how important she was in my life.

“I don't want to be alone,” she said with her head down, letting her words come out with a sigh, making my gaze stop being so cold. I recognized that tone, that sincere tone that I had heard before, a long time ago.

“You've been alone for a long time,” I said, trying not to lose the firmness of my attitude. “Me too.”

“That's why I want... I want you to come with me, to my house. I will no longer be alone and neither will you,” Donna said, pleading, sobbing almost desperately.

I shook my head, wondering if it was an idea to consider. She was my best friend, the only company I had when I was a child but... But for years she was nothing, not even a shadow, not even the presence that watched me secretly.

“No, Donna,” I answered, avoiding looking at her face, not knowing how much I could last without throwing myself into her arms and telling her how much I had missed her. “I'm sorry, but you will have to find another maid.”

“I want you to be my maid,” the woman in black sighed, angry at your response. At that moment I started to get a bit scared.

“I've already told you that... No. Look, it took me a long, long time to come to terms with the idea that you were no longer with me, that you no longer wanted my friendship. You can't come after so many years and ask me to live with you. I don't know what happened to you, I don't know what's wrong with your damn head to believe that after so much time, I'll still be waiting for you.”

“But, (Y/N)... Do you really prefer to stay here rather than come with me?” Donna asked, her voice broken by the crying I was not able to see behind the black fabric of her veil.

I nodded, letting the tears wet my skin.

“Yeah, this isn't so bad, you know?” I said cockily, getting up from the chair and extending my arms so that she could look at my house. “At least I have a roof, food and water. I don’t need anything else. I don't need your false compassion. I don't need you Donna... Not anymore. I wouldn't go with you even if the roof co...”

A loud creak, a tremor in the house, silenced me. The snowfall of the last few days had been difficult to control. I knew I had to do it, that I had to remove the snow from the roof but… For some reason, I didn't, and part of the roof collapsed behind me.

“Collapses...” I sighed stunned, putting my hands on my head. At that moment I realized that to deceive fate was impossible. We all have a path in life. And mine was hers, next to her.

“Will you come with me?” Donna asked, with her hand on her chest, scared by that noise. That collapse that was very timely for her, of course.

“Shit...” I whispered, shaking my head, squeezing my eyes very tightly, wanting to wake up from that nightmare. “I guess I have no choice.”

I packed everything I needed for several days and followed the mourning woman towards her house, towards the old house where I once laughed with her, when everything seemed easier.

“Hello, hello...” A shrill voice woke me up from the wave of memories that came to my mind when I entered that house. It couldn't be possible. The Angie doll stood up on its own. It almost gave me a heart attack.

“What the…?” I asked, surrounding the puppet, which followed me with its gaze. “No, it can't be... Is it a trick?”

I approached Donna, removing the veil from her face to look for the origin of that bad joke.

“What trick, stupid?” the doll asked, climbing into the arms of its owner.

Her lips didn't move like they used to when she was a child. She wasn't using her ventriloquism. Angie lived, it really lived...

5 months ago…

It was difficult, it was really difficult, but I ended up adapting to that house. That environment was so familiar and comforting. It helped me a lot. To say that I was a maid was an exaggeration. I barely cleaned or cooked. All I did was to be there, to keep Donna company.

At first everything was very cold. I felt unable to forgive her abandonment, her betrayal, but, little by little, we began to talk again, without resentment, with that black veil increasingly absent.

Having someone by your side was a feeling that I had already forgotten. Maybe that's why I started to feel things, things that I was ashamed of. I started to see Donna as a friend again. I started to want to get closer to her, to wait until it was time for dinner to stand in front of her in silence.

Without wanting to, I fell in love with her, without wanting to remember why I liked being with her so much, why I was waiting for her for so long.

“Oh, but the office joke was better...” I said amused, taking a sip from my glass of wine, enjoying a late-night chat. Wine, lavender, Donna. Nothing could make me happier at that moment.

“You mean when we put Angie under the desk?” Donna asked, amused, raising her legs to the sofa where you were lying.

“Exactly... It was fun,” I said with a mischievous look, feeling a strange heat on my cheeks. “Oh, wow, I think, I think I should stop drinking...”

“We're in no hurry, (Y/N),” Donna said, amused, pouring more red liquid into my glass and drinking hers.

“Drink, drink, silly,” Angie said, bringing the glass closer to my mouth. I nodded, taking a sip and putting it back on the table.

“They were good times...” I whispered, with nostalgia being the protagonist of my actions and words.

“Do you remember Mr. Tim?” Donna asked, settling down on the couch.

“Oh, yes, Mr. Tim...” I repeated, nodding with an amused look. “That was the merchant we scared away, right?”

She nodded, laughing sheepishly, embarrassed by her childhood pranks.

“You were a very convincing ghost, Donna. I couldn't sleep that night,” I commented amused, pretending to tell an unspeakable secret.

“You were a little girl, it's normal that you were scared...” The lady in black joked, nudging me. I stuck my tongue out at her mockingly, forgetting for a few hours who I was having fun with, the things I had seen, what she did to Josef...

“I was 7 years old, I wasn't that young,” I protested, pretending to be offended in a fun way. “What was that phrase…? I’m the ghost of the white sheets...”

“You better run if you don't want me to catch you...” Donna continued, faking that ghostly voice from that joke so far away in time.

“You were really scary,” I said with a smile, shaking my head.

“Do I scare you now?” She asked with an enigmatic tone, as if it were a trick question. I immediately shook my head.

“No,” I answered briefly, noticing how my smile was fading little by little.

“You must be the only one,” she murmured, finishing another glass of wine.

“Your doll scares me,” I said, trying to break that small moment of tension.

“Hey!” Angie protested, causing us to look at each other for a moment, before laughing exaggeratedly, probably due to the alcohol.

“I missed you so much, Donna,” I said, catching my breath. She looked at me and sighed, her smile growing weaker.

“Me too,” Donna whispered, with a voice so low that I had to get a little closer to hear it.

“I can't stop wondering why we are so far apart...” I said, letting my mind speak for me, letting those words come out alone, demanding an explanation that I had needed for a long time.

“I didn't want to see anyone,” Donna said, leaving the glass on the table and looking away from you.

“Not even to see me?” I asked, with a bit of resentment.

“I didn't want... I didn't want to lose you too,” she admitted in a dark voice, getting closer to me. I let her do it, I wanted her to do it.

“You weren't going to lose me,” I said, getting closer to her, just a little closer.

“Well, the important thing is that now you are here, with me. We're together again,” the lady in black said with a serious tone, moving her hand to take mine, which I allowed, which made me close my eyes as I felt her soft skin caressing mine.

Our hands stayed together as our gazes met. I couldn't really say what I was feeling at that moment, but it was something, something that forced me to raise my other hand to her wounded cheek, making Donna start to tremble.

“I didn't remember...” She whispered, taking the hand that was caressing her cheek and holding it in place. “I didn't remember how good caresses felt.”

“I've thought so much about you...” I murmured, sobbing, with the heat of the wine running through my veins, with anything to stop me from confessing everything I wanted to tell her, what I was feeling at that moment.

“I thought about you too...” She said, approaching too.

I couldn't help it anymore, I just couldn't. My hands gently grabbed her face, bringing her closer to mine until my lips landed on hers. I spent a long time thinking about how it would feel to kiss someone. The actual feeling was much more incredible. I kissed her, I kissed Donna, I kissed her softly. I let my body act of its own will, enjoying the taste of the wine on her lips.

She didn't stop me, at least not at that moment. Her lips opened so that mine could continue acting, so there was no distance between us. A sigh, a gasp, that was her only response as we both continued to deepen the kiss, that first kiss that I didn't want to stop.

The salty taste of my tears joined the wine on her lips, creating a wet mixture that only grew closer and closer together. Donna moved her hands to my hair, pulling it gently, making clear that she didn't want to stop, that the heat that was slowly rising through our bodies was a sensation she didn't want to end. At least for a few minutes.

Suddenly, Donna pulled back, causing our mouths to part with a wet sound. I wish I hadn't opened my eyes, I wish I hadn't seen her scared look and her hands on my chest, preventing me from getting close again.

“What are you doing?” She asked, with her eye shining with fear, with anger, with a feeling that was incomprehensible to me.

“I... I...” I stammered, turning away from her immediately, with my face red with embarrassment, showing the mistake I had made, that we had made.

“Why did you do that!?” The lady in black shouted, mad, getting up from the sofa and covering her face with her hands.

“Donna, I'm, I'm sorry...” I said, fighting the feeling of heartbreak that overcame me, against the tears of humiliation that were beginning to soak my face.

“No, you can't...”Donna murmured confusedly, walking from one side to the other. She looked like at any moment she would lose her mind. “How dare you?!”

Screaming and crying inconsolably, she disappeared, leaving a dagger deeply stuck in my heart.

Days, weeks passed without hearing from Donna. After that kiss that she rejected, I never spoke to her again. The veil covered her face again, as if putting it as a barrier between my lips and hers. My soul was wounded, my heart broken.

The love I had begun to feel was just an illusion. I was stupid to fall in love with her, but it was too late. The idea of leaving that place was more and more present in my head.

“Damn it,” I said furiously, kicking a chair, letting out the frustration I felt at losing Donna again, because of me. A terrible idea. “Ah! Shit!” I screamed, grabbing my sore foot from that unfair kick. “Fuck!”

“You always do those things...” A voice that was nothing but a whisper interrupted my ridiculous jumping. Donna appeared behind me, face uncovered and head bowed.

“What? Donna…” I said, awkwardly putting my foot back on the floor. The pain of the kick had nothing to do with what I felt when I saw her again, when I heard her voice coming from those lips that I could never kiss again.

“When you get angry, you always hit things,” she murmured, getting closer to me, playing with her hands.

“Yes, well I...” I said, realizing a curious detail. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“I've been watching you for a long time, (Y/N)...” She confessed, confirming my suspicions, the suspicions that there was someone stalking me. “I... I went to your house and looked at you.”

“You were looking at me,” I repeated, blinking in disbelief.

“I wanted to know, I wanted to know what you were like...” The lady said, getting closer and closer, making my body tremble again. “If the idea I had about you was true.”

“The idea?” I asked, noticing how her hands grabbed my waist, pulling my body.

“I love you, (Y/N),” she said whispering in my ear, making me turn away confused. “I have been loving you for a long time…”

“So…. Donna, why did you reject me?” I asked, crying, this time, with joy.

“I... I don't know how to control my emotions... I was afraid that you wouldn't...”

I didn't let her finish. My lips collided with hers again, letting myself go, grabbing her head so that this time she wouldn't dare to move away. She wouldn't do it, ever again.

No more words were needed, just kisses, just whispers, caresses...

That night my world changed, that night when I didn't stop loving her, when the desire that lived inside us was able to come out. Kisses, caresses, hugs, moans... It happened that night, the night in which we both lost our innocence, the night in which we showed that love can beat everything, even the passage of time, even our two hearts, that didn't know how to love until that night.

Two days ago…

Everything was perfect. The relationship we had was wonderful. There were so many things to discover, so much love to give, to receive. Nothing could go better in my life, and in hers. But fortune didn't last in a poor man's house, or so they used to say.

It was an ordinary afternoon, in which I was dedicated to tidying up the disastrous garden outside the house.

“Ah...” I protested when I felt a puncture in my chest, a very painful one.

I tried to continue taking care of the flowers, but the pain became more and more intense, unbearable.

“Donna!” I screamed, kneeling on the ground, noticing how something was beating inside my chest, something that was not my heart. “Donna!”

That was the last thing I could scream before my vision blurred. Then there was only darkness.

“(Y/N), tesoro, please wake up...” A soft whisper made me open one of my eyes. Her dark figure was sitting next to me, squeezing my hand. I felt comfortable, I was in bed.

“Donna...” I said with a dry throat, moving my hand towards a glass of water that was resting on the table. “Water…”

Donna wasted no time, feeding me the drink lovingly.

“What happened to me?” I asked, swallowing all the water, feeling an annoying burning in my chest.

Donna opened her mouth to say something, but she didn't, she simply lowered her head and stood up to grab something from her dresser, a mirror. Without saying anything, embarrassed or scared by something, she sat next to me on the bed again, placing the mirror in a way that allowed me to look at myself.

What I saw almost made me faint. My torso was bare, covered in horrible black veins that ran up to my neck. Where the top of one of my breasts should have been, there was now a dark, throbbing, black lump. I shook my head, touching it. My scar was gone. My chest was far from what it was.

“What is this? What is this?!” I screamed horrified, nervous. Donna didn't respond, she continued to avoid my gaze. “Gods… No, it can't be…”

“You had it when I found you unconscious in the garden. I wanted you to see it before I heal you,” Donna said with a terribly low voice, giving away that she was hiding something with the sweat that glistened on her forehead.

“What is this? What is happening to me? Donna, tell me what this is,” I said nervously, moving the mirror away so I couldn't look at that horrible deformity.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” she whispered, taking my trembling hand. I pushed it away, thinking she had something to do with it.

“What have you done to me?” I asked with dark eyes, roughly grabbing her chin so that she couldn't look away from me. “You… It was you, right?”

“It wasn't me! She screamed defending herself, pushing my hand away from her face, sobbing nervously.

“Tell me what the hell is going on, Donna...” I hissed, getting up from the bed with a dangerous look.

“No, I don't know... No, you shouldn't...” She stammered, scared by my reaction. “It's not possible.”

“What?” I asked, controlling the tone of my voice before the imminent appearance of a terrible crisis.

“What, what you have is... It's...”

“What is it, Donna?” I asked, tired of her babbling.

“You have, you have a Cadou,” the lady in black said, turning away from me, cowering away from my irascible attitude.

“A Cadou? What's that?” I asked calmer, fighting against the anger and the burning in my chest.

“A, a Cadou is a parasite that... Oh, Gods... Why do you have one?”

“Donna, my love...” I said nervously “You have to speak clearly to me, do you understand? Explain it to me.”

She nodded nervously, letting my hand caress hers as I sat back down on the bed.

“The Cadou is the gift that Mother Miranda gives us. We, the Lords... We all have one. She implanted it in us. That's why Angie can move, why my face looks that way. It's... It's...”

“Okay...” I sighed, running my hand over my forehead. “But how?”

“I don't know... If I knew I would tell you but... I'm sorry, (Y/N). I never told you about it because, because I thought you'd be scared.”

I ran my hand over my now deformed chest, trying to remember how something like this could have happened to me. Suddenly it hit me, like a providential revelation. That black lump was not in any place on my chest. I had come out right where I had that strange scar, the scar I got the day I explored that strange cave.

That was the moment when Miranda acted, that was the reason for that sinister laugh when the priestess looked at me the day she brought Donna.

“What will happen to me?” I asked, letting all the emotions come out through a sigh.

“I don't know, tesoro... I... Let me heal that wound and... I don't know what we could do...” Donna said stuttering, running a hand over my cheek wet with tears of helplessness.

I let Donna heal me in silence, let her bandage my horrible chest, hiding that black thing, that horrible thing. My mind wandered to possible causes and consequences. It didn't look good. The sting was terrible, was I going to die? No, I couldn't think about that.

I spent my 28 years practically alone, without anyone, with an abusive father, with a friend who disappeared to return years later, to become my beloved. After years of loneliness, I had finally found my place, the place where I wanted to belong: Next to Donna, telling her every day that I love her, not wanting to live without her kisses.

A feeling of anger coursed through my nerves, making the most dangerous option cloud my senses.

“I'm going to face her,” I hissed through clenched teeth when Donna finished bandaging me. She gasped, shaking her head. “I want to know why she did it.”

“No, you can't, (Y/N). Miranda's wishes cannot be questioned.”

“Do you also have blind faith in her?” I asked with venom in my voice, narrowing my eyes at the woman in black, who shook her head.

“It's not that, (Y/N). She, she will kill you...” Donna murmured, kissing me on the lips, trying to make me reason, something that was difficult at that point.

“I don't... I can't... I have, I have to do something or...” I said confused, with my temples throbbing and the sting clouding my senses.

“No, nothing will happen to you, (Y/N). I'm going to take care of you... I promise.”

2 hours ago…

I began to think about my situation. My chest hurt, it burned, but at least I was still alive. Donna took care of me. She gave me her love every day, every hour. But that... That was no longer enough for my wounded soul. I had suffered so much. I had had so many misfortunes in my life that I began to think that it was my fate, that I could no longer believe that I could be happy.

I turned in bed, where Donna was resting next to me. My hand gently reached out to caress her soft skin, causing her to stir, but not wake up. I smiled tenderly and bit my lip, suppressing the sadness I felt at having made that terrible decision.

“Donna, my love... Forgive me... I have to do it,” I whispered quietly so as not to wake her, approaching her lips, giving her a soft kiss, just for a few seconds, surely the last kiss I would give in my entire life. .

She growled adorably, reaching for her hand towards my body, trying to keep me from separating from her. Her hand losing contact with mine as I stood up was the worst moment of my life.

Covering my mouth so as not to cry, I left the room, getting dressed and taking one last look at what, for a few months, had been my home, my family.

I went out into the cold of the night, searching, wishing that black and gold shadow would loom over me, that it would finish me off, or that it would give me the answers I was looking for. That didn't happen until, after walking for a while, I managed to reach that cave, the cave where, when I was 8 years old, I was a victim of that witch.

“Miranda!” I screamed with all my might, without devotion, without love, with hatred, with anger. The echo of my voice bounced off the walls, where those black trees twisted, as if they had heard my words.

“Oh, (Y/N), what a surprise,” a velvety voice came out of nowhere, Miranda, smiling, without that horrible mask, gesturing for me to follow her.

My fists were clenched tightly, but my common sense told me that I should listen to him.

I followed her, I followed her thinking of a thousand ways to put an end to her, I followed her to a kind of underground cathedral. I remembered that place, Donna had told me about it. It was where they met.

“Why?” I asked when the priestess stopped, looking at me with bright eyes, eyes that were like daggers in my chest.

“What have I done?” She asked sardonically, enjoying my confusion and my anger.

“This!” I shouted, undoing the bandage and showing her the deformity of my torso, which she looked at with a look of satisfaction.

“I see... So it's finally deigned to come out...” She murmured, approaching me like a current of icy air, of cutting wind.

“Why?” I asked again.

“Oh, shut up, your questions are bothering me, (Y/N)...” The witch said, touching the lump on your chest contemptuously.

“You're a bitch,” I said hissing, growling, and putting my life at risk.

“How rude you are... It seems that you have grown up alone, mm? Has no one taught you manners? I was hoping that Donna would have spent her time teaching you how to be a person of worth, but I see that the only thing she's taught you is how to make her happy in bed, right?”

“Shut up!” I screamed, pushing the woman by her chest, pushing her away from me.

“You're playing with my patience, (Y/N)... Don't be dramatic. After all, you are of no use to me,” she whispered, circling around me like a scavenger bird. “What a pity. When I saw that little girl sneak into the cave I thought: why not? Surely the Cadou acts wonderfully with someone so young... But, it seems that I was wrong about you...”

“What are you taking about?” I asked, feeling weaker with every passing second.

“Please, (Y/N). I can't speak more clearly. I put some hope in you but... I'm afraid you are another failure.”

“What?” My voice sounded weaker and weaker.

“A failed experiment if you prefer that way. After so many years Cadou has not been able to fully develop. A shame.”

“I'm not an experiment, I'm a person,” I said, without taking into account the consequences.

“Yes, yes, that's what everyone says... But hey, you're lucky, maybe you won't die,” Miranda said, opening her eyes in a sinister way. “You might live long enough to die of old age next to crazy Donna, isn't that wonderful?”

“Don't insult her,” I growled furiously. Oh no, not Donna.

“Are you threatening me? How daring...” Miranda laughed, amused by my obvious weakness.

My hand searched in my skirt pocket, looked for the knife I took from home, the knife with which I planned to kill her. What a stupid thing.

“I'll kill you!” I screamed, lunging at the blonde, who made no effort to dodge my attack, which went straight to her chest.

The knife went deep into her skin, but she didn't bleed, the bitch didn't bleed. Miranda just pulled the gun from her body and laughed out loud.

“Stupid girl...” She murmured, shaking her head. “How easy it would have been for you to be nice to me…”

I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. I was scared to death. I was going to die, but deep down, I already knew it.

“But you know what? I think you and Donna make an adorable couple... At least with someone next to her she won't lose her mind completely,” the priestess said amused, playing with the knife in her hand. “You caught me in a good mood, (Y/N).”

A freezing cold passed over my shoulder as her golden claws dug into it, wetting the fabric of my blouse with five thin threads of blood.

“I offer you a deal,” she hissed in my ear, causing me to shiver. “You can go with Donna and live happily if…”

“If?” I said trembling, closing my eyes, waiting for the final blow.

“If you can survive...” Miranda murmured moments before a horrible pain crossed my stomach.

I gasped and looked down. The same knife I intended to kill Miranda with was now stuck in my body, causing me overwhelming pain, causing me to fall to the ground, curling in on myself.

“Oh, come on, it's not that big of a deal... I've been pious,” the priestess mocked.

With what little strength I had, I reached out with my blood-covered hand to grab her clothes, pulling at them with ridiculous force. She kicked it away unpleasantly.

“I'll let Donna know. I think she will arrive in about… 20 minutes,” the blonde said, walking slowly, further and further away from my erratic movements due to the pain. “If you are alive when she arrives, she will have no difficulty healing you. I will not kill you. If you die... Well, I guess we'll leave it in the hands of fate, right?”

The sound of her steps was camouflaged with her laughter, leaving me badly injured, alone, writhing in pain.

And here, on the cold stone floor, contemplating the full moon, I finish remembering how I had gotten there. My life does not pass before my eyes. Donna is the only thing I can see. Her kisses are the only thing I feel on my skin, her whispers are the only thing I hear.

The full moon is horrible if I remember her beauty, her smile. All I can do is think about her. I have no intention of fighting, of calming my pain. I had asked for it and just as Miranda said: it had to be left in the hands of fate.

Deep down I feel the need to scream for her, for her to hurry up and heal me. But the memories that I’m able to evoke tell me that there was never the slightest possibility that I, that we, could be happy. A painful truth that only now, on the verge of death, I’m able to accept.

I close my eyes, feeling my body go numb. I remember hearing Donna's parents talk about a local legend that said that if you died in the village, you wouldn't die completely. But they, they died. They didn't take care of her daughter from a distance. I guess that's what happens when you're about to die, I guess the comfort of a legend that says your soul will live on is normal when you start seeing the light.

For me there is neither heaven nor hell. There is no heaven without Donna, there is no hell without Miranda. I have nothing left and nothing I leave behind. Only one woman, only the only woman I have ever loved.

“(Y/N)!” A scream brings me out of the review of my sins, from my breathing becoming weaker and weaker. It is a strident, desperate scream.

I turned my head so that the moonlight didn't look like the light I should follow. Just a bit more, I have to know whose voice it is. But my body is weak, it is getting weaker. I feel how death is calling me. I feel that this voice is becoming more and more like a whisper...

“Ah!” I scream when I wake up. As if it were a nightmare, I see myself in my bed, in our bed. My chest hurts, my stomach hurts. My whole body is numb, as if I have been sedated.

When I look forward, I see a black lump above my legs and the sensation of breathing on them begins to tickle. It couldn't be possible, but apparently, I'm back home and Donna… Donna is lying asleep on my lap.

I touch my body to check that I haven't died, that the wounds are still there. They are there, hidden by bandages, but they are there. I haven't died, I'm alive, I'm with Donna. I'm in Heaven, my Heaven.

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

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cryptidsofwakemoor · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 10 - Paranoia

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that."

~*~

Mystic

Tikki works on her own omelet in comfortable silence, letting her guest relax by the fire while she filled her own egg patty with her additions of choice. Once her folded egg taco was on the plate, she drizzled some kind of red liquid over top of it, and took up those metal tools he could never quite understand the purpose of. Lifting her plate, she goes to sit at the couch, and- uses the tiny knife and spoked thing to poke and cut her omelet, eating it off the utensils.

Oh. That’s what they were for. She didn’t need to get food on her hands at all.

…

“Have you been on the streets your whole life?” Tikki asks, quiet.

Spooky

He looks up from watching her cut the omelet and poke it with the pronged thing, before frowning a little and shaking his head no.

No, being on the streets was a relatively new thing for him. In a way, he had kind of lucked out that adaptability was part of his training, otherwise he may not've survived very long, but... This probably wasn't what they had in mind while training him. It was more for use in battle.

He glances down at the floor in front of him, wishing he still had the snow and stick to help him explain things. The best thing he could do for now, though, was try and sum up everything he could into one word, and force it out of his uncooperative throat.

"L.. ll- laa... b," he rasps, looking back at her.

Mystic

Tikki, who had been mid-bite of her own omelet, chokes on the piece of food. She has to pound on her chest for a second before the food is dislodged, and she can breathe again.

In just one word, that was- quite a bit of information to swallow. Just like her omelet.

"I'm- hkf- sorry," Tikki apologizes, rubbing at her throat for a moment. "You- wh- but- how-? You came from a lab? Excuse me? As in- wait-"

She frowns, staring into space. He can see it in her eyes- she was putting together a lot of puzzle pieces. She sets aside the plate, losing her appetite in this moment.

"...that- suddenly a lot of things make sense. But- why were you in a lab?"

Spooky

He looked alarmed when she choked on her food, but once she'd dealt with that enough to ask him more questions, he ducked his head slightly and slid his hand over the nape of his neck. He gave a small shrug, mainly because he didn't know how he'd got there. He couldn't really remember being anywhere else, leading him to think that maybe he was born there…? Though there were some things he could just barely recall that seemed to contradict that.

He knew what trees were, before he’d even escaped. They'd never let him outside, not once, but he could picture outside, sometimes in dreams... And there were other things, too. Faded voices and shapes, and strong emotions attached that left him feeling lost, scared, and like he'd been hollowed out whenever he thought about it too hard.

So usually, he didn't.

All he had for an answer as to why he was there was what they were developing him for.

"...w... wepn," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact and looking back at the burning fireplace.

Mystic

...There's a long pause.

Even though he wasn't facing her, he could feel her eyes boring into him. Analyzing.

Behind his back, the scales on the back of Tikki's arm start to stand on end. She clasps at her forearms with her hands, clenching her jaw as she wills the beast back into the depths, forcing the scales back down.

The thought, and all the implications it carried, made her so, so angry. But she just got back to normal from a shift- if she let it happen again so soon, it would exhaust her. She'd be so depleted of energy that she wouldn't want to move for a week, and she wasn't in a position to let that happen anymore.

"...Okay," she says, finally. A brief, forceful exhale as she quells her outrage for his sake. "I see why you ran away, now."

Tikki puts her chin in one hand, thinking. Then her eyes flick to the door. Then back to him in worry.

"...Am I gonna get in trouble with the law or something if someone finds out you're in my house? Are YOU in trouble with whoever you ran from?"

Not that she was particularly bothered by the idea of someone reprehensible showing up at the door. She'd welcome the opportunity to feed someone a knuckle sandwich and have it be sweet justice. But not at the cost of somebody else being put in danger.

Spooky

Feeling her staring, he glanced back at her, worried he'd made her angry at him. He could sense the tension, and his eyes turned downwards as he fidgeted with his hands.

Her questions didn't assuage his nerves any, either... because he had, if only for a brief time due to the distractions and curious things in this house, forgotten he was being hunted.

He was hesitant to answer, worried that confirming this fact would get him thrown out. Tikki was nice, but to get involved in anything like this seemed like too much to ask of anyone.

He didn't know what this 'law' was, but he knew the Aria Corporation was big, and they had a lot of resources. Hell, their damn logo still haunted him whenever he sneaked into town, never truly letting him forget that he wasn't safe.

...It wasn't fair not to tell her, though. To not at least try and warn her about what she was getting into if she let him stay in her home.

Looking conflicted, he finally nodded. Setting aside his disc, he reached down and tried to trace a shape on the rug with his finger, but it wasn't very clear.

Mystic

A long, sad sigh.

"...ok. I figured."

Tikki glances at the rug, leaning to see what he was drawing- but she couldn't make anything out from here. Hm. Maybe he was just doodling from the stress. She did sorta put him on the spot, all of the sudden.

"...well, I'm not going to just let you freeze to death in the snow," she says, frowning. "And whoever uses a kid test subject for scientific experiments is super fucked up, I'll tell you that."

Standing up from the couch, she moves to sit on the rug next to him, scooting a bit closer so she's near enough for expression of comfort, but just at the edge of his personal space. She looks down at the carpet as she talks, idly trying to decipher his finger-drawing on the floor.

"I don't have much to offer, Sticks. I do have a roof, and food, sometimes. I don't make a lot of money, and I'm dealing with my own demons- but I'd still like to help you, somehow. If you want it?"

Spooky

He doesn't seem able to get the tracing of his finger across, so he stops. The best that could be deciphered from it was that he seemed to be writing an 'A' for part of it. If he was trying to make a word, though, the rest of the scrawl was incomprehensible. There didn't seem to be any other letters, and even the A was kind of questionable.

He looked unsure at her offer, not because he was keen on turning his figurative nose up at it though. Moreso, he was worried. She already had stress from turning into the silver beast, and didn't have much money, and... he didn't know what 'demons' were, but that didn't sound good either.

...

But at the same time, he didn't wanna go back to taking his chances in that hole in the ground. Not after he knew what being in a warm house on a soft rug, with not one but TWO blankets was like.

His eyes searched her expression. She really did seem to want to help...

He hugged his pillow close and gave a little nod, before resting his chin on it.

Mystic

He feels more than sees her hand clasp onto his shoulder, squeezing once in reassurance before letting go.

"Okay," she says, offering him a little smile. "I'll do what I can."

Tikki leans back to the couch again, and takes her plate with the half-eaten omelet. She sets it on the carpet and slides it over to him, letting it rest by his knee.

"Here- you can have the rest of mine. I wasn't very hungry, anyway."

A lie. Shifting consumed a lot of calories she had to replenish, which she had every intention of doing so later when he was asleep or something. But right now, she lost her appetite. At least this way the food wouldn't go to waste.

Tikki stands up, stretching her shoulders and wiggling her webbed toes.

"I don't know a lot about you, and that's fine- you don't have to share what you don't want to." Tikki scratches behind her head, starting back towards the kitchen to start cleaning. "Just let me know how I can best help you, alright?"

Spooky

He looked from the offered omelet half to her, before he picked it up with his hand and stuffed it in his mouth, licking the remaining red sauce off his fingers. This had a different taste than his, but was still good!

He didn't seem as keen to get up, covered in fluffy blankets as he was. While he wasn't full, his stomach was no longer empty, and going from being outside in the snow with almost no clothes for most of the day to taking a hot bath and sitting all bundled up next to a roaring fireplace... Sleepiness was definitely setting in, and his eyelids drooped.

He nodded in response to her, rubbing at one of his eyes with the palm of his hand.

"Th... thanks," he said, straining to try and be louder since she had walked back to the kitchen. Oof, probably wasn't the best idea. Fuck, he wished he could figure out how to fix his broken voice. It'd been a long time since he'd heard what it sounds like normally, but he knew it wasn't supposed to sound like this.

Mystic

Tikki glances back in his direction at the sound of the voice crack. Ouch. That sounded very unpleasant. Did speaking cause him pain? Maybe his throat was damaged from... whatever happened to him in the 'lab'.

She tried not to think about it. He wasn't there, now.

"It's no trouble," she says, offering another smile as she removes the pan to wash it. "Nobody should have to live on the street- especially not kids."

In the background, Tikki quietly goes about making some hot apple cider. It was just a cheap packet mix, but it was easy, and fast. The water boils gently on the stove while she cleans up the containers of omelet fillings, and puts away all the washed dishes once she'd dried them with a kitchen towel.

She is left to ponder in silence for a while. He'd never seen silverware, didn't know how to feed or take care of himself. Laboratories that tested on humans- at least, he might be human, she really wasn't sure- evidently still existed, and were doing shady shit like turning children into weapons. That was the most she could ascertain from his broken speech and limited information. Whoever was responsible, they were probably out looking for this kid. And if she was caught with him in custody, if she was lucky, she'd be left alone- but he would no doubt be taken back to whatever hell he endured.

She had seen the rocky injuries all over his back. She couldn't begin to comprehend what would cause that. It looked a little better after he was able to bathe, but there was still a substantial amount of rock crust covering his spine. She was hesitant to touch it, or ask about it in case it was sensitive.

Steam hisses from the kettle, and she turns off the stove burner. Water is poured into mugs, and Tikki shakes out the cider mix into the mugs, pouring honey into both. Stirring them with spoons, she walks back out into the living room to check on him.

"I've got hot cider, for your throat," she says, rounding the couch.

Spooky

He looked like he'd gone into almost a kind of sleepy trance, watching the flames dance on the logs...

But he perked back up a little when Tikki returned with- Oh! He'd seen these before, sometimes he would see people at the lab walking or standing around with these little handled cylinders in their hands, usually in the hallways when he was being transported to another area. He never knew what was in them, but they had a nice smell...

These smelled good too, but in a different way. When Tikki handed one over to him, he took it and held it in both hands, peering down at the unfamiliar drink. Unsure how to proceed, he dipped his tongue into it to give it a taste.

Mystic

The immediate taste was sweet, with a hint of spice that wasn't quite the same as the red thing he ate earlier. What did Tikki call it? 'Pepper'? This was different. It was hot, though, and the little bit he managed to swallow off his own tongue actually soothed his aching throat a little, more than water had up until this point.

Tikki, seeing this, chuckles into her own mug that she had just lifted to her face.

"Okay, that was pretty cute," she says, snickering. "And you have a lava tongue?? Weird, and cool. But yeah- you drink it like this."

Tikki demonstrates, holding the mug in her hands up to her chin and tipping it back a little, taking a gulp of the liquid inside before tipping it back down, swallowing with a satisfied exhale.

"It has honey in it, which is a natural remedy for throat problems," she explains, sipping more of her own drink before continuing. "I've had to use it before when shifting damaged my voice for a day or two. Should help, I think. And if it gets too cold, you can always reheat it."

Spooky

He flushed with a faint glow at her comments, but did his best to mimic the demonstration, slowly tipping and attempting a sip with a noisy slurp.

...Holy shit! A way to drink without getting it all over himself! He looked down at the mug with big eyes full of wonder. This was awesome!

He was quick to drink the rest of it down, steam spilling from his mouth when he lowered the mug and exhaled afterwards. The honey coated his throat, making it feel less sore after his attempts to talk. His glowing tongue poked out again, licking his lips.

Mystic

Another chuckle from Tikki.

"I mean this in the best way- you're like a big puppy," she jokes, watching the steam puff up towards her ceiling. "A lanky, fire-breathing puppy."

Sipping her cider, she sighs, getting up from the carpet one last time.

"You look ready to pass out, so I'm going to let you rest. You can use the couch, or stay on the carpet, whatever you feel like- sleep well, Sticks."

And with that, she walks off to the rest of her house, presumably to wind down for the rest of her afternoon. It wasn't far past midday, but she'd had an exhausting morning, and she figured he did as well.

Spooky

His expression briefly turned to confusion as he tried to figure out what a puppy was, but he shrugged it off, setting down the now empty mug. He was very sleepy, and probably would've been content to just sleep next to the fireplace, though without anything to prop him up he kept slowly listing to the side until he'd jerk back upright with a start.

He let out a tired grumble and crawled like a blankety slug across the floor until he was at the couch, where he leaned back against the side of it. It was definitely softer than the dirt had been, and the blankets added extra cushioning. Hugging the pillow close, he curled up and rested his head on it, so cozy that he drifted off in no time.

...

"You really thought you could just leave... Didn't you?"

His eyes shot open at the familiar cold voice of the ponytailed man, Dr. Rainer... but he didn't see him anywhere when he looked around the living room. It was nighttime now and the fireplace had gone out, bathing the room in darkness, and any warmth seemed to have been sucked out of the house along with it.

Then, a red dot appeared in the window. Followed by another, then another, and they continued to multiply until they were peering in through every window, swarming, a buzzing sound reverberating off the walls and leaving him rattled. Drones.

With a smash of glass they set upon him, giving him barely even any time to stand before they were already on him, a writhing mass of buzzing motors and claw arms, reaching and scratching and grabbing. He managed to fight back, blasting them with fire and setting his fists crunching into metal when they got too close, but there were always more to take their place.

"No matter where you scurry off to, you can never truly abandon your purpose. You know that, don't you?"

Metal parts crunched underfoot as he continued to doggedly fight against a neverending onslaught, pouring in through the windows like wasps from a nest.

Suddenly, another piercing pain lanced through the back of his neck, near the base of his skull, his vision blurring and going white for a few moments as he was brought to his hands and knees.

When he opened his eyes again, the drones were gone, and the room was quiet... But as he remained there, trying to catch his breath, he realized something very quickly. He couldn't move.

"Stand."

To his dawning horror, he stood up. Without trying to. His body was moving without his input. His eyes wouldn't even budge when he tried to look around.

"You... are one of OUR products, Matchstick. Don't forget that. Now... Destroy."

NO!

It was too late. Fire sparked and climbed up his limbs, engulfing his body in flames that started to catch on the floor around him. He raised his arms and sent blasts of fireballs careening around him, smashing walls and furniture, anything not annihilated on impact would perish in the blaze... The walls buckled in the inferno. Chunks of ceiling fell. This house was done for, and everyone in it, including Tikki.

And as he distantly heard her screams, he felt...

nothing.

-!!!

Heart hammering in his chest, his eyes opened for real this time and he sat bolt upright with a gasp, prompting a coughing fit. Smoke spiraling out of his mouth, he tried to catch his breath and regain his bearings.

Mystic

The house is quiet. Besides his panting breaths and his heart trying to decide if it wanted to break his ribcage and escape, there was no sound beyond the distant hum of the heater in the walls. The fire- which appeared to have had an extra log placed on it at some point- had burned low until all that was left were charred husks, and a pile of glowing embers. It produced only a faint pop and hiss, along with the lightest aura of remaining warmth.

The house is dark. Just like in his nightmare- but there's no voice to taunt him in the shadows. The windows, which had been an open view out into the world, were covered by thick drawn curtains. Nothing could see inside, not even the searching cameras of the drones he knew were looking for him out in the city. No light is leaking past the borders of those curtains, either. He'd passed out somewhere around noon. Had he slept so long that it was nighttime?

The house is empty. Tikki is nowhere to be seen. A door at the far end of the corridor across the living room is shut. Perhaps she was there, or perhaps she left.

A hand flies quickly to the back of his neck-

-and he feels nothing. No robotic devices, no grasping claw-like limbs, no collar, and no needle stabbing into his skin. All that he finds is... the pre-existing injection site, that had long since healed over.

He was alone with his blankets and his pillow, a dying fire in the fireplace, and the lingering terror of the nightmare.

Spooky

Despite the realization that it had been a bad dream, and that there were no threats in sight, he still felt almost afraid to move for a while. He pulled the blankets up around him like it was a barrier, camouflage to hide him from whatever lurked through his imagination.

Still, he couldn't go back to sleep. Not without making sure everything was okay... So holding the pillow and clutching one of the blankets around him, he got up and checked the perimeter, wandering through the living room and down the hall, peeking in through the doors just to be safe.

Mystic

…So far, everything seemed to be clear.

The kitchen still smelled like the food Tikki made earlier - ‘om-lets’, or something. The burners in the stove were off, and all the dishes had been cleaned and returned to their rightful places.

The living room was the same. The book he picked up still sat haphazardly on the stack when he set it aside. The fire was still dying, the firewood stack neatly piled.

The windows were unshattered; no glass or broken drones littered the floor from his imagined combat. Peeking beyond the curtains showed a gentle fall of snow from the sky, and a dark, starless night filled with clouds.

…

Paying close attention to the house let him notice a few things. The scratches from the driveway were present here, too- they had been spackled and repaired wherever possible, but the signs of wear persisted. Wooden furniture was bent or scored in places, as if something big had clumsily scraped by it. These must be the signs of whenever Tikki transforms against her will, identical to what he found outside. This was a small abode to contain the oversized- whatever it is she turns into.

The door at the end of the hall has the most prominent damage, where the frame is buckled up and outward in a couple places, and the hinges had been repaired multiple times.

What did she say again? ’Shifting outside sucks because she can’t fit through the door,’ or something.

…There’s a faint buzzing sound coming from the door. She was probably asleep, oblivious to his nighttime panic.

Spooky

The sound was sort of like the breathing noises she made while asleep as the silver beast, but smaller... It wasn't like the buzz of drones, this was far less harsh and only happened at intervals instead of continuously. Still, just in case, he listened for a bit, before gathering up the nerve to open the door just a crack and peek inside.

Mystic

The inside of Tikki’s room was also dark, all lights in the room turned off save for a single lamp in the shape of a spiny fish plugged into a wall socket. There were more plants in hanging pots, some with flowers that wafted a sweet scent. A fan overhead spun in a slow circle. Against one wall was a tank full of water, plants, pebbles, and several small fish that flitted about once the light from his eyes was upon them. A filter hummed quietly on the tank, the only other notable sound in the room.

On the bed was Tikki, fast asleep. She was haphazardly wrapped in a thick blanket of her own, and what was visible of her arms and legs was covered in some sort of cloth outfit with more fish stitched onto it. She had a book open next to her on the bed. Thin red lines on the sides of her neck produced the buzzing sound he’d been hearing, every time she breathes. Was that how she snores?

The fish in the tank all swim at once towards the corner nearest the bed, swimming frantically at the tank glass.

Tikki grunts, her snore sputtering as she reaches up and rubs at her face with one hand. Moving to sit up, she looks first towards the tank. A pause, ear fins twitching, before she looks towards the door. The mermaid squints, her eyes reflecting the light from the doorway as she sleepily processes.

”Nghf- Sticks…? I see… your eyes glowing.”

Spooky

The glowing eyes peering from the doorway glance to the side self-consciously and duck behind the door, though after a few moments, one came peeking back into view.

Yeah, she'd seen him, there was no point hiding. The door opened more and he stood in the threshold, huddled in his blanket, his tallness diminished in appearance somewhat by his nervous, slumped posture. He squeezed his pillow underneath his arm.

"S... sorry," he whispered, barely loud enough to be heard over the fish tank filter. "Checking... if safe." The honey must have helped somewhat, that was the most talking he'd managed in one go since they'd met!

Mystic

There's a pause as Tikki's sleepy brain works its way through what he just said.

"Oh..." she mumbles, yawning- and revealing a mouth absolutely full of sharp teeth. "It's... ok, Sticks. It's just you, me, and the guppies... they started yellin' the moment you-" another yawn "-opened the door."

She rubs at her face again, this time with both hands.

"You gonna- be ok...? Can you go back- to sleep...?"

Spooky

Guppies? He looked at the fish in the tank, though he hadn't heard them make any noise, let alone yell. He blinked, but turned his attention back to Tikki.

He nodded, but it was clear by how he was carrying himself that he was hesitant to go back to sleep. He was still tired, but fear had put him in a state of alertness despite that. Backing up from the door, he turned to go back down the hall. Maybe if he couldn't sleep, he could at least keep watch...

Mystic

"Wait."

Tikki grunts, scooting to the edge of her bed and rolling her legs over the side. She adjusts the sleeves of her colorful cloth attire, and digs around in her blankets. She removes something lumpy and plush from the bundle of blankets, standing up to approach the door.

"Here," Tikki says, holding out the object to him. "Holding this helped me relax when I first started living on land instead of the sea."

It was a stuffed lizard of some sort, but it had tiny plush spines on its back and a little pair of plush wings. Fabric fangs poked out of a sewn mouth underneath tiny black bead eyes.

"His name is Slithers. Maybe he'll help you feel safe, too."

Spooky

His glowing eyes blinked in the dark like two half-covered spotlights as he picked up the little soft... creature? He didn't know what it was, but it didn't seem to be alive. It appeared to be made out of the same kind of soft stuff the pillow was. The fabric that made up its plush hide had some kind of a spotted pattern that glimmered in the light of his eyes, like scales. Whatever this fake creature was, its appearance was endearing, and he smiled a little despite his anxiety.

He nestled it between the pillow and his body and gave a little nod to Tikki in thanks.

As he made his way back to the couch, he thought about what Tikki had said. She used to live in the sea... But what was that, exactly? A different town? He wondered how often she had to move. She had to hide too, right? If people found him scary to look at, they would absolutely find the silver beast to be scarier...

Getting to the couch, he took another look around the room. Still all clear. He was about to settle back down where he'd been before, when he stopped, noticing how his hand sunk down on the cushion of the couch when he started to kneel down on the rug. His eyes widened, and he squished the cushion with his hand.

This thing had pillows on it!

He got back up, and almost as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to do this or not, he cautiously sat on the couch instead, curling up in the crook of the couch's arm. It felt like he had more defenses this way, being in a corner- and it was a very soft and squishy corner. It was like he was gonna sink into it, but he didn't- not enough to be alarming, anyway. This was a good spot...

Snuggling down in the blankets all curled up and hugging his legs, with the pillow and plush sandwiched between the front of his torso and the back of his thighs, he sat there in quiet comfort until he finally began to doze off again...

Mystic

...This time, he's unbothered by nightmares, or even dreams. The comforting blackness of exhaustion envelops him, and for now, he's allowed to sleep in the peaceful silence of nothingness.

~*~

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#stickman #stickmanoc #stickman oc #mermaid oc #merperson #lab experiment oc #writing #original fiction #cosmic fiasco #cosmic fiasco cryptids #fedoraspooky #mysticdoodles

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seangelfish · 1 year ago

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enstars AND hypmic??? how have i not followed earlier! anyways I loved the Mayoi valentines day so so much, I was thinking if you get inspiration for it, a sequel for what happens on white day would be so cute! Happy writing mwah mwah!

- 🍰 anon

A/N: Thank you so much! I'm glad you liked that one because I tried my hardest on writing his character! I hope you enjoy this sequel~ [Edit, 4th March 2024]: So sorry this took so long for me to write, but since White Day is this month, I finally had the inspiration to do it! This is a sequel to my Valentine’s Day Mayoi x Reader fic, so please read that one before you read this one, thank you!!

Mayoi Ayase x Reader Tags: Fluff, established relationship, romance, she/her pronouns, fem reader Word count: 1,109 Summary: Mayoi prepares you something special for White Day, anxiously hoping that you'll like it...

Mayoi enjoyed spending Valentine's Day with you. It was the first time in his life he ever got to experience it like normal people would. Although you insisted on doing everything that day which resulted in him collapsing in exhaustion, he truly loved spending every second with you. The memory of you two together holding hands as you walked around the streets, trying out all the new Valentine's Day activities has been burnt into his mind. Sometimes he would catch himself reminiscing the thought as a smile formed on his face.

"Mayoi-dono, what are you thinking about?" asked Shinobu curiously. "You've been spacing out."

"S-Sorry, Chief!" Mayoi cried. "I-It's nothing!"

"Hmm, okay, but if you need help, you can always count on me!"

And in that moment, in Mayoi's eyes, Shinobu was glowing. He admired how bright and upbeat Shinobu was, but he also felt like he didn't deserve to be in his presence. That was how he felt about you too. If he thought about it hard enough, you and Shinobu were similar in a way, sharing characteristics that made him feel fluffy when spoken to. He truly appreciated that, loving every moment with the people he loved.

"Ah, t-there might be something you can help me on..." Mayoi said slowly. "It's about (Y-Y/N)..."

"(Y/N)-dono?"

"Mm. A-After Valentine's Day is White Day, no? I-I want to do something special for her on White Day, b-but I'm not sure what... I-I-I haven't done this before!"

Shinobu beamed. "I understand! I haven't done anything like that before either, but I'll do my best to help you, Mayoi-dono!"

"T-Thank you, Shinobu-kyun!"

So the two of them started researching on what to do for you on White Day. Scribbling down notes on a whiteboard, the two of them finally came to a conclusion.

"And done!" Shinobu chirped. "That's what you're going to do with (Y/N) for White Day! It's a shame that (Y/N)'s working on that day; you wouldn't have that much time with her... but that's okay! All that matters is what you gift her!"

"R-Right!" exclaimed Mayoi. "T-Thank you for helping me out, Chief!"

"Of course, Mayoi-dono! Have a good day tomorrow!"

Mayoi waited outside the ES building for you. You had gotten off work a little bit later than usual, so when you finally met up with him, you flopped into his arms, exhausted.

"Argh, that was so tiresome!" you whined. "Mayoi, please carry me home!"

His face flushed on the immediate contact. "I-I would l-love to, (Y/N), but there's s-something that I w-want to show you...!"

"Huh...? What is it?"

Mayoi didn't answer. He took your hand and gently trailed you along. He was awfully quiet the whole journey, but that was because he was extremely nervous. What if you didn't like the date he had planned for you? And what about the gifts? They weren't anything expensive, so what if you hate them? All these thoughts flooded his mind, but when he heard your voice ask him what was wrong, he snapped back into reality.

"A-Ah, it's n-nothing...!" he said. "W-We're almost there."

"Oh! What a beautiful cafe!" you beamed as the two of you finally reached your destination. "I haven't been here before. I didn't even know such a pretty place was around here."

"Mm, it recently opened up," said Mayoi calmly. "Shall we go inside?"

Still holding onto his hand, you nodded excitedly as you followed your boyfriend inside. As you sat down, Mayoi ordered. This surprised you a little because you'd usually order with him, but when he returned to you, he looked calm and collected.

"What did you order?" you asked him curiously.

"S-Some of your favourites," he replied.

And he really did order your favourites. It was like he knew you like the back of his hand. It made you smile knowing that he paid attention to your likes and dislikes.

Whilst the two of you ate, he listened to you talk about your day, eyeing your expressions and how pretty you looked. However, he was so caught up on you that he forgot to give you the gift that he worked so hard on.

But to be frank, he was withholding it, too embarrassed to even gift it to you.

"The food was so good!" you exclaimed happily, swinging your hand with his. "Thank you for treating me, Mayoi!"

"Mhm..." he replied, forcefully smiling. "I'm glad you liked it, (Y/N)..."

"Oh, it's getting late. We should go back to the dorms now."

"W-Wait!"

You stopped in your tracks. The midnight sky was splattered with specks of sparkles which complimented your eyes. Mayoi thought you looked beautiful under the stars, something he didn't think he deserved to see, but at the same time, he was thankful for it.

"I want to give you something too," he said finally. "Uhm... it's n-not much... or is it anything s-special... but I made it for you..."

From his bag, he pulled out a miniature diorama of Sakura Park where the trees bloomed pink. He had painted the sky a light shade of blue which complimented the green terrain. Everything was textured accordingly that it looked like the real thing but smaller.

But what had you amazed was the tiny figurines of you and Mayoi sitting on the bench that the two of you would usually have lunch on. It was like he recreated your memories into reality, something solid that you could touch.

"Happy White Day, (Y/N)," he said slowly so he wouldn't stutter. "I truly am in love with you, you make me the happiest, and I am thankful every day that I can be with you..."

"M-Mayoi..."

"I'm s-sorry if it wasn't much!" he continued. "B-But I hope you enjoyed today..."

You smiled. "Of course I did. Thank you so much, Mayoi. I loved everything you did for me today! I don't mind what we do, even if it's something simple, but I can't believe you made something so beautiful!" you said, admiring the diorama. "I'm going to treasure this forever!"

You had to admit, you forgot it was White Day today. Work really was getting to you, but you were able to forget that all with the help of your boyfriend – your sweet yet awkward boyfriend.

"Hah... I-I'm glad!" he sighed. "O-Oh... do you still want me to c-carry you h-home, (Y/N)?"

"Ah, you'll do that?!" you burst. "Yes please!"

As Mayoi carried you swiftly home, he carefully put you down before you kissed him on the cheek. Instantly, his face turned red, but he waved you off with a smile on his face.

Intro page | Ensemble Stars masterlist | Rules

#ensemble stars x reader #enstars x reader #ensemble stars #enstars #fanfic #x reader #mayoi ayase x reader #mayoi ayase x reader fluff #enstars white day fanfic #enstars x y/n #alkaloid x reader #ayase mayoi x reader

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tia-amorosa · 2 months ago

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Episode 35: Challenge of Fate

CW: slight nsfw - be kind to me, Tumblr 😬

It is already past midnight. Lazlo had been out for hours looking for Cassandra. He has been to the old church, the city center, almost every corner of the desert. At some point it occurred to him that he should have invested the money in his own car instead of a cab. So he preferred to continue on foot. At some point, he arrived at a remote fishing spot, almost exhausted. “Damn it, where are you, Cassy?”

He stopped to take a deep breath. Then he heard a barely audible sob…,,Cassy… Thank God… oh man, I've been looking everywhere for you”. She only gave him a brief glance, which she then immediately avoided again. “I just wanted to be alone…My mother, oh God…"/ ‘I've already heard about it…’/ ‘She can't remember, she'll never remember the nice things she had with dad…’. He slowly came closer…

,,Cassy…"/,,She's forgotten everything, it's so terrible… Now… Now I can understand so much why Dad… That he was so desperate all those years and doesn't want to believe anymore… h-h, for me it's… So hard to bear, do you understand?” Her voice trembled. Of course he understood, because it was almost unbearable for him to see her in such a desperate state.

He knelt in front of her, stroked her face and wiped away the tears that were still running down her cheeks. “I'm sorry it turned out so badly for you both… I'm sure it's not your fault and it's not the fault of this stupid device… Sweetie…"/ ”H-hh, it doesn't matter who or what is to blame… Mom will never be the same again… h-h,, Lazlo,”. Before the next tears could come, he sat down with her.

Lazlo took her in his arms, hugged her and didn't say a word. And she didn't want to speak either, just let go of her tears. After a while, she calmed down and her breathing became even again. She was completely relaxed. “I want to sleep with you, here…”. She said quietly at one point. He looked at her with a questioning look, “But…”/ “Didn't you say yourself that you don't believe in curses, Lazlo? What have I got to lose now?”. Her voice was desperate and yet calm.

“What you have to lose? Maybe… Your life, your parents… Me"/ ‘No, I could see my parents anytime, no matter where they are…but with you I would be here.’ she held her hand on his chest. Where she could feel his heart beating. It was fast and strong. “I don't just want you here, Cassy, do you understand? I want everything of you with me, I…"/ ‘do you love me?’. Somehow Lazlo had been secretly waiting for a question like that. And he couldn't help but answer it honestly. “Ever since I saw your eyes for the first time… I can't think about anything else… Yes… I love you”

“Then don't be afraid, because I haven't either, please…”. He narrowed his eyes and lowered his head. But then she took the initiative. She literally forced him to look at her. 'I will remember you forever, Lazlo, nothing could erase the precious moments with you in the last few days'. She kissed him. And even though he was almost tormented by the thought of losing her, he gave in.

You didn't have to do much to get where you wanted to go for so long. Cassandra wasn't afraid. Her last thought was of her mother. And that she would surely understand. Eventually or not at all. she would have to explain herself, but that was okay. What Lazlo had certainly done a few times before was the first time for her tonight. And possibly the last. She enjoyed every little touch from him…

Every single kiss burned on her skin… And even if she had the feeling that he would set her on fire, the hot feeling was accompanied by pleasant shivers, intense movements, deep, passionate. And she realized how she was sinking more and more, her vision was clouding over, only the stars managed to get through the dense haze… thousands and thousands of stars that penetrated her head while they made love devotedly.

Supernova. That was the only word that came into Cassandra's head after she climaxed together with Lazlo. He slowly lay down to the side and didn't let go of her. “I'm tired, but… I don't want fall to sleep”. Her words sounded tortured, choked with tears. .he looked into her eyes, stroking her face, which for him was the most beautiful thing he saw that night…, “you can go to sleep, my sweet. It's o.k….”. He kissed her and she closed her eyes. Then he waited… And eventually fell asleep himself from exhaustion.

On the other side of the desert…, “Forgive me for disappear now again, my darling, I have to go to him, I have to find out… How everything was and whether…there's still hope. We'll meet again when you're home”. Bella instinctively knew how she could get back to her old home. And so she made her way there - to Pleasantview. Was she worried about her daughter? No… because she seemed to know somewhere inside her how it would turn out.

@greenplumbboblover , @solorisims , @honeywinesims ⭐

#goth tales #ts3 story #the sims 3 story #ts3 screenshots #the sims 3 screenshots #ts3 gameplay #the sims 3 gameplay #cassandra goth #lazlo curious #bella goth

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blacktofade · 2 years ago

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Seems like you like gemtho, I just wanna tell you that they bickers a lot on the decked out lobby (etho teases gem about her bad rng of keys and etho immediately gets the taste of his own mockery), etho saying gem is great and more that I don't remember. They're so silly

I ADORE gemtho!!! I've been having the time of my life watching all the DO streams seeing them interact! Etho gets so giggly and it's adorable! Also sorry this took me a little while to answer. I wrote a nasty little ficlet for the girlies (gn) based on the stream moment where Gem keeps hitting Etho and they're running around together.

---

Gem’s still laughing, hand outstretched to try to hit Etho again when he grabs her by the elbow and pulls her into his Decked Out room.

There’s a pinching at her shoulders when she’s shoved against the shrubbery near the doorway, but it’s muted by the surprise that hits as Etho slips his mask down just enough to lean in and kiss her.

He’s smiling against her mouth, hands tight on her upper arms, holding her steady for the brief moment where she can’t even remember her own name. And then in a rush, she realizes what’s happening and how much she wants it, and she brings her hands up to clutch at his face in case he dares to think about pulling back.

He’s more insistent than she expects as he nudges her backward, harder into the shrubs, his hands dropping from her arms to tug at her skirt, rucking it up with an unbridled eagerness.

She feels changed knowing what it’s like to have Etho slide his palms up her bare thighs while pushing soft noises into her mouth.

He’s so desperate and it makes her feel powerful.

“I need you to stay quiet,” he pulls back to whisper, eyes bright, almost feverish, and it must be contagious because Gem feels it in her chest, burning bright.

His fingertips slip into the elastic waistband of her underwear, pulling with the kind of intent that has her glancing over her shoulder. If anyone comes close, they’ll be spotted, but being in Etho’s corner keeps them from the majority of prying eyes. No one probably even knows they’re back there, though she can still hear voices, laughter, coming from near the dungeon entrance.

“Etho,” she exhales as he sinks to his knees, dragging her underwear down with him, and he taps at one of her boots and then the other to make her step out of them.

“Quiet,” he reminds her, and then hooks one of her legs over his shoulder and eases himself beneath her skirt.

It’s probably worse that she can’t see his face and doesn’t know what to expect, because her whole body jolts at the first exploratory press of his fingers against her pussy.

She reaches down, grabbing at his shoulder as he holds her open with two fingers and rubs his thumb across her clit.

“Etho,” she gasps as loudly as she dares. “You —“

She doesn’t get to finish the thought because then Etho’s mouth is on her, hungry and unrelenting, and she stares at the ceiling, face so hot she wonders if she’ll survive long enough to come.

He eats her out as though he’s been thinking about doing it for weeks, as though he’s been waiting for her to step away from the crowd so he can get her like this.

His tongue is devastating, as quick as it always is when he speaks, and he shoves his face forward, as though trying to get as close as possible, to be able to lick into her.

She feels insane from it, still reeling from the fact that Etho wants her like this, that he's maybe thought about things like this while they've spent long, exhausting days together, taking turns in the dungeon.

Etho always emerges from his runs with a frenzied look in his eyes, especially when he's successful, when he escapes with new treasures to show off. And sometimes he'll still be breathing hard when he looks at Gem and accepts her congratulations, and it'll send a shiver of something down her spine.

She rolls her hips, just thinking about it, and she can't stand that he's hidden.

She pulls her skirt up, needing to see, and it’s easy to curl her fingers into his hair and tug, getting him to pull back, the lower half of his face wet — from her, she realizes — as he stares upwards with hooded eyes.

He looks blissed out, like this is all he’s ever wanted to do, and she lets go of his hair to card her fingers through it instead.

“You were made for this,” she whispers to him, and he nods as though she’s asked a question.

She slides her hand to the back of his head and pulls him forward again, using her other hand to spread herself for him.

The noise he lets out buzzes against her clit, and she bites her lip to keep from groaning, part of her wishing they were elsewhere, somewhere more private, so they could listen to each other.

She wants to hear him moan.

His hand shifts on her thigh, two fingers nudging at where she's so wet and easy, slipping inside with barely any effort and giving her something to squeeze around. And she does — around his knuckles, enjoying the way he fills her, wishing it was his cock instead.

She can't stare down at Etho for long, it's too much to bear, with his mussed hair, the way he's flushed up with his enjoyment. But he holds her gaze when she does, jaw working as he takes her apart, and she moves her hand away from herself to trail one fingertip across the bridge of his nose.

There's a bump there, maybe from where he's broken it a few times over the years, the cartilage not setting right. She's never seen it before, always covered by his mask, but she thinks it suits him.

He moves his head, dropping down until his nose is pressed against her, that beautiful bump brushing her clit like he knows, always too observant to not drive her insane.

"Etho," she whines as he gets his tongue back on her, and she can feel his smile against her pussy now, and she's spiraling.

He pumps his fingers slowly into her and never once looks away as she clutches at his shoulder and shakes apart under his mouth, coming so hard she's almost afraid her knees will give out.

And even then he doesn't stop, not until she pushes at his forehead, spent and bordering on overstimulated, needing him to ease up.

He turns his head, stubble rasping against her skin, and trails kisses along the inside of her thigh until he eventually reaches her knee. Carefully, he guides her leg back to the floor, smoothing down her skirt, and Gem’s whole body trembles.

Wiping his face with one hand, Etho grins up at her, and he looks so pleased with himself that it makes Gem want to ruin him.

She pulls at his jacket, dragging him to his feet, his breath ghosting over her as he laughs before she silences him with a kiss. He tastes like her, but also him, and Gem can't get enough.

She slips a hand between them, rubbing the front of Etho’s pants, where he's hard and probably aching, and all she can think about is dropping to her knees to return the favor.

But before she can, Etho reaches down, grabbing her wrist and holding her steady.

She looks at him questioningly, raising both eyebrows, and he smiles again.

“You can help after my next run,” he tells her and Gem’s mouth opens, unable to stop the laugh from bubbling out.

“Etho,” she says, and Etho cups her face with his palm before leaning in to kiss her again. It’s surprisingly sweet this time, and he laughs against her mouth once more before he pulls away, nudging his mask back into place.

Somehow, he looks the same as always. His hair is a little flyaway, but she doubts anyone would suspect a thing.

He adjusts himself in his pants and she can’t help but shake her head in disbelief.

“Are you going to wish me luck?” he asks her, stepping back toward the box where he keeps his shards.

“No, because you’re the worst,” she lies, stooping down to grab her underwear from the floor. “How about you have these as a token instead?”

She moves closer, slipping the cotton briefs into Etho’s pocket, grinning at him because two can play that game. Etho’s eyes shine like he knows he’s made the right choice.

“Have fun,” she says. “You know where to find me when you’re done.”

#gemtho #dont read at work #thing wot i wrote #fic #lovely anon #answer #hermitshipping

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harrietwritesstuff · 2 months ago

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Angry confessions

1 and 9 with voksym <3

Hello my love! I'm sorry this took a month (again, blah, I am dreadful of late). I hope you like it ♡

"I need to know that you're safe. Because I care about you. I love you."

Words: 565

He can’t stop asking questions, over and over again - even though he knows the answers.

How long will you be gone? Which leaders are there? Who are your meetings with - where are they; which rooms, which offices - which streets. Who is your driver this time? Who flies the plane? Who greets you on the tarmac?

He knows it’s irritating - knows that Volodymyr, endlessly patient, is now at the end of his patience.

He knows he sounds ridiculous; like a jealous lover, someone unable, unwilling to let go. He hates it, hates that this once, it’s the only way to satiate the gnawing uneasiness in his gut. This is the first trip for years, the first one where he won’t be there.

To protect. To serve.

The promotion hadn’t been unexpected - what had been unexpected was the sheer number of meetings, the amount of time that he spends away from Vova now; despite being more responsible. There are days when he does not see him; just the echo of his voice down a corridor, a flash of a khaki sweatshirt around the corner and it feels as though something has been ripped from him.

“Maks.. It’s a summit. The same as any other. The same people will be there.” Volodymyr’s voice is hard this time, tired; but somehow, Maks takes it as a gift, cradles his rough, tired voice - because he feels at ease here. To exhale - to let himself turn away from politeness and politics and just be himself; exhausted, bone weary - irritated, without having to swallow any of it down.

“I know, I just–”

“Don’t trust anyone else.”

The truth lands between them; dark and heavy - because he doesn’t trust anyone else. He hired these men, ran background check after background check, watched them swear fealty to the President of Ukraine - their voices loud and clear. And still, and yet - he thinks of plots uncovered in the most unthinkable places, the most unfathomable of people who would hurt the man before him. He thinks of those first grim hours, lit by a haze of adrenaline and the knowledge that - he would give his own life without question, without regret or hesitation. He looks at the others, who stand to take his place - and wonders of them if they would do the same, without regret or hesitation.

“No. I don’t.” He feels churlish, childish almost.

“Why?” Volodymyr snaps the question, something flaring in his eyes as he tosses his work aside. “Why don’t you trust them? Don’t you understand that it’s not your job anymore? I thought you’d be glad of the break, glad to step away from it - from this– to be a little removed- from the front line visits and from me–”

“Because I need to know you’re safe-” he snarls without thinking, his animal, vulnerable self hurling the next part of his sentence into the air, for it to land at Volodymyr’s feet before his brain catches up with him.

“Because I care about you. I love you. You–”

He almost chokes, frozen to the spot.

Volodymyr says nothing.

After a moment that feels like an epoch has passed, he finally replies.

“You love me?”

Maksym laughs nervously.

“Yes. I- I thought- I thought you knew.. But were just. Too kind, too sweet to tell me no - that-”

“You love me.”

Not a question, and so it does not need a reply.

#harriet writes: answers

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corinthianism · 2 years ago

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last kiss | sam winchester (4)

pairing: sam winchester/f!reader additional tags: best friends to lovers (?), fluff, angst

masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter | ao3

CHAPTER FOUR: SOMEWHERE IN DETROIT

You sat on Bobby’s porch, sipping on coffee that had more espresso shots than what was healthy. You had all four of the Horsemen’s rings, and all you had to do now was to get Lucifer in Sam’s body. The problem was figuring out where Lucifer would be.

You rubbed your eyes, trying to shake off the exhaustion that’s been building up in your bones over the past few days. Weeks. Years. If someone asked you how you were doing right now and you had to say the truth, you’d say you felt like you were thrown around like a ragdoll by a bunch of super-powered toddlers.

The brothers were out in the yard, probably making some tiny repairs to maintain Baby. If you had to guess, they were probably having the Big Conversation about Sam’s plan. Your head hung low, and for the umpteenth time this week, someone joined your little pity party.

At least they never left you alone.

“How you holdin’ up?” Bobby asked you, taking off his cap as he sat beside you. The wooden boards creaked under the added weight. The older man grunted as he bent his knees to get to your level.

“How’re your knees holding up?” you grinned at your father figure. He shook his head and ruffled your hair.

“Answer the question, young lady.”

“I’m barely holding up, Bobby,” you tried to joke, only to be met with a serious expression on his face. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. You don’t get to do that.”

“It’s about Sam, isn’t it?” he questioned softly.

You took a long, deep breath and set your mug down, “Yes! Yes, it is. It always is. There. You happy?”

“Well, you don’t have to get all snippy with me. We’re all worried about him. I’m just worried about you,” he paused for a moment. “Because everyone knows what you have with him is special.”

Your jaw clenched, feeling a strong urge to just up and leave. No one, especially you, wanted to hear about how their relationship with someone they love was so special, only to be reminded of how they’d lose it all in the span of a week. There was only so much a person could take and as patient as you were, even you had a limit.

When you didn’t respond, Bobby continued, “If I know anything about love, sweetheart, it’s that losing it could be the worst thing to happen to you.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He shot you a look, his way of telling you to let him keep going, “It’s scary. You’ll have everything to lose. Love makes you do crazy, insane things, but you found something not a lot people have. People spend their whole lives looking for this sort of thing, and here you are, what? Sixteen, seventeen years strong?”

“Eighteen.”

He chuckled, “Eighteen. All I’m saying is, I’m sorry that this has to happen. I know you love him, and let me tell you, that boy looks at you like you’re his whole world. Sam was always the soft one. You took care of him in ways John and Dean couldn’t… but it’s time to let him go.”

Hot tears were spilling now, and you wanted to curse Bobby for hitting you with the cold hard truth, even if you knew deep down that you needed to hear it.

“I don’t think I can,” your voice trembled, a vulnerability you rarely showed in all your years of hunting. “I can’t lose him too, Bobby. Not him.”

“Listen to me,” he wiped away your tears. “When all of this is over, you’re the one who’ll be left here. You’re the one who’ll live. If I know anything about Sam, it’s that he’d want you to live your life as best as you can, even if he can’t say it to you straight.”

“Get to the point, Bobby,” you answer tiredly despite the caffeine rushing in your veins.

“Sam won’t be here,” you tried to steel yourself when these words left Bobby’s mouth. “But you will. I’m willing to bet a big part of why he’s so willing to jump in the first place was because he knew you’d be okay. So be okay for him, even if you aren’t.”

You didn’t notice how tight your grip was on the sleeve of your jacket, and you hated yourself just a little bit more in that moment because you felt like a child dealing with feelings she’s never had to face before. You were a hunter, you had to be above this.

Sam would’ve said otherwise. You were always more than that to him: more than a hunter. More than a friend.

You and Bobby eventually went back inside to prepare everything you needed for this final trip, which included gallons of demon blood for Sam to consume. You’d never say it to his face because it’d make him feel worse than he already felt, but it was disgusting. Perhaps you wouldn’t be in this predicament right now if you were a little bit more firm in keeping him away from hunting when Dean was in hell, maybe he would’ve been away from Ruby. With the help of Castiel, the work was finished much quicker.

Sam joined you and Cas in filling up the trunk of the Impala with the jugs while Bobby and Dean talked about Lucifer’s possible whereabouts. The work was silent between the three of you; it wasn’t the best time to discuss what-if’s when Cas was right there but then again, there was never a right time.

Dean came back to get Sam and Cas, after pinpointing where Lucifer was likely to be: Detroit. Sam looked at you one last time, and you felt his gaze on you. When you turned around, you knew then that everything Bobby told you earlier in the day was true. Sam’s arm rested on the car door, taking a moment to just look at you before he went into the Impala and marched right into the Death Star. He did look at you like you were his whole world, and it took your breath away.

It was, of course, Dean and Bobby that broke you out of your little moment, urging the both of you to hurry up so you could all get going. You hopped into the passenger seat of Bobby’s van so that you could tail the Impala all the way to Detroit.

“Here goes nothing,” you thought.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

“Aw, ain’t he a little angel?” Dean grinned. Cas was sleeping in the backseat, probably beat from all the work they’ve had to do over the past few weeks. The brothers could only imagine what it must’ve been like to spend thousands of years following orders, and then suddenly breaking free from all of it.

Sam only chuckled, muttering about how angels didn’t really sleep, and the car ride is silent for a while.

“Sam, I gotta bad feeling about this,” the older Winchester admitted.

“Well, you’d be nuts to have a good feeling about it.”

Dean frowned, “You know what I mean. Detroit. He always said he’d jump your bones in Detroit. Here we are.”

“Here we are.”

There was nothing Sam could say that would calm Dean’s worries. Not that anything could, since they were quite literally about to meet the Devil. Instead, the two talked about the possibilities; how Lucifer might’ve known something they didn’t. Sam was quick to point out how he probably did, hoping that at the very least, the fallen archangel didn’t know about the Horsemen’s rings.

Another bout of silence.

Sam shifted in his seat to face Dean, “Hey, um… on the subject, there’s something I gotta talk to you about.”

“What?”

“This thing goes our way and… I Triple Lindy into that box… you know I’m not coming back.”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” Dean’s answer was automatic. He barely looked away from the road.

Sam took a more serious tone, “So you gotta promise me something.”

“Okay, yeah. Anything.”

“You gotta promise not to try and bring me back.”

Dean very nearly stopped the car right then and there, “What? No! I didn’t sign up for that. Your hell is gonna make my tour look like Graceland. You want me to just sit by and do nothing?”

“Once the Cage is shut, you can’t go poking at it, Dean,” Sam stayed firm. “It’s too risky.”

“You can’t ask me to do this,” Dean pleaded with his baby brother. He wasn’t always one for thinking ahead, but he couldn’t fathom not trying to save his brother.

“I’m sorry, Dean. You have to.”

“So then what am I supposed to do?” Dean pressed.

“You go find Lisa,” Dean stiffened at the mention of her name, but Sam continued. “You pray to God that she’s dumb enough to take you in and you… you have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple pie life, Dean. Promise me.”

“And what about her?”

This time, it was Sam that froze.

“What about her?” Sam’s words had a dangerous edge to them, a stark contrast to the gentleness he exhibited just moments prior.

“Did you give her this whole speech too? Because what is she supposed to do, Sammy? You tell me to go have a normal, apple pie life, but what does she have to come back to when this is all over?”

“She’ll live her life,” Sam answered softly. “She’ll have to.”

“For someone so smart, you’re goddamn stupid, you know that?” Dean grunted.

“What is there to talk about, Dean? There’s no other way to get rid of Lucifer, and I’m doing this to keep her safe,” Sam tried to defend himself, unable to face the truth that he’d been trying to avoid ever since this plan was formulated all those nights ago.

“She loves you so damn much,” Dean tried to make his brother see the other side of things; how his death will echo through the lives of everyone that cared for him. How it’ll echo through your life. “Even when you’re being a dumbass, she fought tooth and nail to keep you safe. Now you’re asking, not just me, but her, to let you die?”

Sam stayed quiet for a while before answering his brother, “At least she’ll be alive, and that’s all that matters to me.”

The car ride was silent for the last time.

Sam craned his head to look out the window, even if there wasn’t anything particularly interesting to be seen outside. In a few short hours, Lucifer would possess him, and there was just no telling how that would go. He hoped he was strong enough, because once Lucifer got inside his head, he was scared that Lucifer would make it his mission to ruin you just to destroy Sam even further. It would’ve been the most effective way to do so.

He closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. His fear and his anger weren’t gonna help him beat the devil. Sam tried his best, his damn hardest, to go to places in his mind that he cherished. He kept these memories close to his heart. They were sacred.

He remembered being thirteen, and reading lore books with you.

He remembered being seventeen, and dancing to Whitney Houston with you with nothing but a streetlight as your disco ball.

In between all those memories, there were feelings that only ever grew stronger with time. He doesn’t remember if he ever told you, maybe he has. Maybe after a couple of drinks, maybe at his lowest point.

Still, all Sam knew, and all he needed to know, was that as long as you were alive and breathing, it was worth whatever price he had to pay. He owed you that much.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

In Detroit, there was a chill in the air that gave you goosebumps. The guys were unloading the gallon jugs of blood from the car. Bobby confirmed that there were at least two dozen demons inside one of the buildings. This had to be it.

You stayed back, making small talk with Castiel while Sam drank the demon blood in some faraway corner.

“You are anxious.”

You gave him an amused smile, “That would be the understatement of the century.”

He simply nodded in acknowledgment and placed his hand on your shoulder.

“Sam is strong. He’ll conquer Lucifer.”

“I hope you’re right, Cas.”

Sam and Dean walked back over to your little group. Sam wiped away the remnants of blood that threatened to trickle down his chin. One by one, Sam talked to each of you. It was goodbye. A hug from Bobby, some awkward chatting with Cas. Then, he reached you. The whole world stopped.

“I wish you knew how much I don’t want you to do this,” you looked up at him, your arms were crossed in an attempt to both shield yourself from the cold and from him.

“Believe me, I know,” he sighed, before taking one of your hands into his own and bringing it up to his face. “I wouldn’t if I didn’t have to.”

“I know,” your answer was laced with something that was barely acceptance and more like defeat.

“I’m sorry,” he squeezed your hand. “I wish it didn’t have to be like this.”

“It’s okay,” you wrapped your arms around him, letting his warmth and his scent and everything that was his just completely overwhelm you. “I’ll see you soon, won’t I?”

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, hugging you even tighter. It wasn’t often that you saw Sam cry, but you could feel the shakiness of his breath that he tried to hide as he clung onto you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you soon.”

“Hey, don’t get all soft on me now, Sammy,” you joked, rubbing his back as you did so.

“I’m pretty sure I always was.”

It took him a while to pull away, not caring if Dean was waiting for him to catch up. This would be the last time he’d get to hold you like this, and he wanted to savor every second he could get before he was gone. He took a deep breath and pressed a kiss to your temple, then to your cheek, then finally, your lips.

It was everything you both hoped it would be and for a moment, you could ignore the sadness growing inside of you.

The kiss was soft. Tender. You moved in a way only two people whose souls were intertwined forever would. He wasn’t shaking anymore. If anything, this kiss flooded him with an overwhelming sense of clarity.

He had to keep you safe, so he forced himself to walk away from you, even if every fiber of his being told him to say those three little words… but he couldn’t hurt you anymore than he was about to, so he stayed silent.

You watched as the distance between you grew. The kiss lingered on your lips like a ghost. It was the calm before the storm because as soon as Sam was out of your sight, the sorrow pierced through you. This life always left you in pieces, but this was the first time in a long time, that you felt pain like this. It was precise; meant to target where it hurt the most.

Bobby and Cas approached you with solemn looks on their faces; they both knew that there was nothing they could say that would ease the pain you were feeling. You wanted to share your grief with them, you really did, in hopes that you wouldn’t be crushed by the weight of it.

But you couldn’t. Just like what Bobby said: what you had with Sam was special, perhaps a once-in-a-lifetime kind of connection, and that meant your grief was a cross only you could bear. No one else could possibly hope to understand what it was like.

After about twenty minutes, a white flash of light erupted from the windows of the building where Sam was and you knew that the worst had come to pass. Lucifer was inside of him. Without thinking, you ran inside the building with nothing but the pistol you had strapped to your leg and a dagger tucked under your belt. You ignored the cold fear that seeped into your bones, no matter how much it tried to weaken your resolve. You ignored the shouts of Bobby and Cas from behind you, telling you to stop.

You thought of Sam, now possessed by Lucifer and no doubt revelling in taunting Dean.

Dean. He was still inside, and if he was still alive, you owed it to him to try and get him out of there.

As you made your way up the building, bodies were strewn about. Blood was spilled on the floor and splattered on the walls. You grit your teeth, and tightened the grip on your gun. Finally, you reached the fourth floor. A blast of cold air hit your face and standing in the middle of the room was Sam. Dean was backed up against a wall.

“Ah, you’re just in time,” Sam— no, Lucifer, exclaimed. “I was wondering when Sammy’s little girlfriend would come in to save the day. I didn’t see you before. You know, when these two tried to kill me with the Colt? It was so sad. For them, I mean. But let me tell you, you do not disappoint, honey. Prettier in person if I do say so myself.”

“Get the hell away from her!” Dean yelled, trying his best to fight against the force of Lucifer’s power.

“No, I don’t think so,” Lucifer cocked his head mockingly at Dean. He approached you, smirking when he noticed you were too terrified and confused to even take a step back. “Little Sammy certainly had taste. You’re just exquisite, aren’t you? I think… I’ll keep you.”

He brushed his fingers against your hair, taking a big whiff of your scent in an overdramatic and freakish show of dominance. He knew you wouldn’t and couldn’t do anything, not as long as he was wearing Sam’s face.

Humans were so simple.

“Well,” he turned to face Dean one last time with a malicious smile. “Bye-bye, big brother.”

With a snap of his fingers, both you and Lucifer were gone in a cloud of black smoke. Dean was all alone.

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #jared padalecki #dean winchester #spn fanfiction #reader insert #sam winchester fanfic

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immortalled · 1 year ago

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hi! i’m so sorry if this is strange, i’m just working on a story and i’d love a second opinion ^^’ no pressure to answer this at all! it’s very hard to explain without proper context so bare with me

i was wondering how you think nathan would react upon finding out he’s the only person who can kill a creature that’s been plaguing him and his friends for a while, in a sort of IT inspired way? most of his friends would be dead at this point, so it’d be like a heroic attempt to make up for their losses by strapping himself with explosives lmao

he’d be around the age he appears in the show but in a tiny rural town setting with no powers

it’s a little up in the air for me on whether he would do it and what could happen afterwards, i’ve kept this quite vague mostly because it is just a loose storyline i’ve strung together while listening to a song, but if it sparks anything for you i’d love to hear!

Hi, Nonnie! Not strange at all! I love talking to people. ♥ (And apologies in advance, this got long because I started analyzing him LOL. Please feel free to skip the analysis under the cut if that doesn't interest you.)

Okay, so first off, I'm flattered you're asking me, and secondly, this sounds like a really fun fanfiction. If you're comfortable, I'd love to read it! If you ever post it on Ao3, please feel free to drop me a link! I'll subscribe!! c:

As for your question... Of course, please do always play with him however you want! I'm far from any kind of... idk, definitive authority on his character LOL, and fancreations are your own sandbox, so I'd never want anyone to change what they want to do based on my or anyone else's personal interpretation of a character. But! My personal two cents is that whether or not Nathan would sacrifice himself like that is really down to how strong his connection with his friends has grown and if he thinks there is anything to gain or save by doing so!

Nathan Young is a character who loves living. He's the embodiment of the early 2010s YOLO motto and that particular brand of unapologetic, teenagery/young adult joie de vivre attitude is why I think the storm gave him immortality as a super power. The rooftop scene in the S1 finale is a great example of this and his entire speech about going crazy while you're young, even if it's dangerous, is actually a really solid look into Nathan's worldview and what seems to drive his impulses. In fact, I think rewatching that entire episode might help you get a better perspective on Nathan and how he might handle the situation in your fanfic!

So, that is to say, I don't think mortal!Nathan is the kind of person to sacrifice his life for anything without very good reason. In fact, I'd argue that he wouldn't at all without immortality as a safety net. He's kind of a coward at times and tends to dodge anything painful or unpleasant, be it emotional or physical. But let's look at the times he sacrificed or almost sacrificed himself in canon!

S1E6 - Falling from the Wertham Community Centre. Nathan does not know he's immortal here and he almost doesn't go back for his friends at all. He only decides to try stopping Virtue because he's been pushed to the edge and realizes how much his weird little ASBO family means to him. Without them, he's totally alone again, and Nathan hates being alone. Although, in fairness, I also do not think Nathan believed there was a possibility of dying in this scenario. Rachel was mind-controlling people, not murdering them, and he clearly did not account for the fact that either of them would lose their balance. I am unsure that he would have done any of this had he known he might not make it out alive... maybe if he had exhausted all other options? Either way, the key here is that he did take risks because he thought he could still save his friends.

S2E2 - Trying to save Jamie. Nathan doesn't think before running toward the burning car to save his half-brother. He could have died here because the ecstasy he took reversed his power, but it's unclear whether or not he heard Simon's warning or if it would have made a difference. Considering how blind the reaction looked, I don't think being immortal or mortal would have mattered. But, still, he was acting on the hope that he could save Jamie.

S2E4 - Almost lets Tim gut him. In order to keep his friends from being killed by Tim the Crazy GTA NPC, Nathan agrees to be killed in their stead. However, he has to be pressured into it by his friends despite knowing he will come back to life. I think Nathan would have deeply regretted it if he had let Tim kill them, but in that moment he was far more afraid of the pain of death than anything else.

S2E6 - Suicide for fame and going toe-to-toe with the Murderous Milkman. This is one of the best examples of Nathan's growth and how he has begun to cope with his power in an extremely unhealthy way. In this episode, we see him toy with the idea of allowing himself to be killed for fame (albeit not without a little bit of peer pressure from his manager), which he does on-camera. We also see him try to legitimately fight someone for the first time when he seeks out Brian specifically for revenge after learning Brian murdered Kelly. In both instances, Nathan knows he will or could die, but he's willing to go through with it anyway because he's immortal. Dying hurts, it sucks, but he's learning to see it as something unimportant when he's able to come back to life. Obviously, he wouldn't kill himself on camera without immortality, but I think it's fair to question whether or not he'd attack someone out of revenge for a dead friend. Maybe? I don't personally think so, but it might be worth watching this episode again and analyzing the scene for yourself.

S2E7 / The "Christmas Special" - Blocking a gunman from shooting his friends. I admittedly have some beef with the characterization and overall writing of this episode, but I don't think that this particular scene is OOC. In this episode, an armed gunman bursts into the bar where Curtis works and is about to shoot. Nathan wastes no time getting in front of the gun and telling him to shoot, who cares, he's immortal. It's all very badass until he's reminded uh oh! he sold his power and is actually mortal now. Realizing that, Badass Hero Nathan vanishes and he flings himself out of the way to avoid being shot (which gets Nikki killed in the process). Now, obviously, this scene is set up entirely just to fridge Nikki and you could argue that Nathan isn't as close to Nikki as his other friends, but I don't think that would have mattered. If Nathan, mortal, had the choice between jumping between his friends and a bullet or hiding... I really do think he'd hide.

Don't get me wrong, Nathan can be selfless and heroic. The fact that he's immortal does not cheapen the fact that he was willing to endure the pain of death and what appears to be a very unpleasant resurrection process for the sake of potentially saving or avenging his friends. Nathan's an ass, and he's regularly selfish, but he is not a bad guy and he sticks his neck out for people he loves way more often than any of them give him credit for. But I also just do not think that he'd be willing to sacrifice or get himself hurt if he had no supernatural "take-backs". If he sacrificed himself, I think it would have to be accidental, as with running to save Jamie; some great, fatal risk that he does not consider fatal because he's too wrapped up in an emotion greater than his fear of dying.

For your story, I think you would have to either push him to the point of not being able to think past a greater fear, or you would have to remove all other options from him. Friends gone, family gone, way of living, maybe even the rest of the world, gone. Or perhaps he's trapped, somehow, in a place where he can't return to the rest of the world? Maybe he's stuck in a place where it will forever be just him and the monster that's been hounding them. I think that he would have to sit with that revelation for a while, wear down, and then maybe he would seriously consider destroying himself to destroy the creature, if the alternative is too suffocating and grim to bear. Whatever the reason, without his friends to save, the catalyst for his decision would need to be something that directly affects Nathan, not people who are no longer alive.

Anyway, that's just my very long two cents. Again, fictional characters are up to interpretation and I think most any character can be pushed and changed to do whatever you want in the right circumstances, especially AUs. So don't let my opinions stop you if you want to take his character a different direction! The most important thing is to have fun and write the story you want to tell. c:

If you have any more thoughts or want to brainstorm some ideas, though, I'm happy to bat around some stuff with you and see what sticks! I read IT several years ago and loved it, so seeing the Misfits gang thrown into a similar situation sounds like a ton of fun.

#out of immortality [ooc];#[meta placeholder];#anonymous #superhoodie [anonymous];

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smiletimeisrunningout · 2 years ago

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You'd think, a little part of her thought bitterly, that he'd recoil from my touch as he so often does, and make things easier for me.

So what, it took being a little bit impaled to get closer to him? How was she supposed to return to a normal life now, at distance, knowing how soft he could be? "Hey, I'd stay if you stayed, but I know, I know. Inappropriate," she smiled at him affectionately, because of course he had a point worrying, his reputation was at stake.

She was quick to disrobe enough to clean up while leaving the stitches alone, if only because the sedative wouldn't last long, and Emma had learned the hard way that while she was the type to keep on walking after stabbed, once she settled down, once it was all done, she didn't take the pain too well, easily infuriated by the fact that it wouldn't go away and that it limited her. So she had to do it while she still didn't feel the worst of it, and also because she didn't want Ben and Caleb to walk in on her in a state of undress, bath water turning red fast and reminding her that her clothing needing far more tending than her.

She wrapped the bandage around her waist, washed her undershirt first so she could wear it in case they returned sooner than expected, than the vest that went on top of it, having to slow down because the stabbing pain had returned and kneeling helped only so much. That, and she felt impossibly weak - another infuriating thing to add to the list.

By the time Ben and Caleb came, she had been forced to take a break, least she fainted, and was happy to welcome Caleb's hug even if her body protested. "Oh, sweetie, it's alright, I'm fine. You know me," she promised, hugging him as tightly as she could without risking to hurt him, "I'm just glad he attacked me, at least I could kill him on the spot. James' sister Lucy is there often..."

Hell, he had gotten lucky that his death had been quick and nearly painless, because if he had touched another woman, a friend, Emma would have considered well within her powers to rip him apart.

"Sadly, we both know the doctor has nothing to put my pain to sleep..." she answered to Ben, smiling encouragingly, and she recaptured Caleb before he could let her go fully, at least to give him a one armed hug, "Not done with you. But in the morning I'll go see him, if it makes you feel any better. I don't want to use all of my limited medical supplies to avoid infections, I'll take some of his. Otherwise next time I'm getting myself stabbed in the woods I'll kick it. Speaking of which... I apologize, I haven't finished yet. I wanted to wash my cloak but I'm too weak. The blood loss has made me a little faint, I figured you'd rather if I paused before attempting more laundry, and not... pass out over it," she glanced at it, and then at Caleb briefly, because it wasn't exactly a great view - it had collected her blood while Ben stitched her on top of what she had bled before, so it looked very much like part of a murder scene.

With her arm around Caleb, she suddenly found herself leaning more against him, exhausted from the very same thing.

"The ground, too, the water... I'm sorry, I'm leaving your quarters in such a state." She paused, making a face and looking at Caleb, "I'm being responsible about my health. It's a weird feeling. I really don't like it." With a grimace from the pain, she looked up at Ben and gave him a weak smile, "Are you two alright? Everything went well?"

Although Emma was a decidedly soft creature, what with her affinity for sunny smiles, delivering flowers to unsuspecting camp followers, and comforting the stockade horses during storms, her hands belonged to that of a warrior. They were rough and war-torn, and yet once her fingertips brushed along Benjamin's cheek, he took solace in the gesture. He was accustomed to roughness, so the texture of her skin was a kindness, a familiarity that briefly caused his lashes to flutter closed.

"I'll do as you wish."

His eyes lifted again, catching the dancing candleflame within Emma's gaze. He nearly laughed. In all their time knowing one another, she had never once acquiesced so easily, and yet somehow, Benjamin believed her.

"I'll come back," he promised. Seeming to remember that this was his tent, he sheepishly added, "Brewster and I will escort you back to your quarters. You're welcome to stay here until you're well enough, but given how you've already expressed a discontent with this idea, I figured I'd make this as painless for you as possible."

"Thank you."

It was an odd sentiment. Even though Benjamin knew he did a lot in camp, it was rare for anyone, even his very commander and dear friends, to show a hint of gratitude. Unbidden, a lump formed in his throat, and once her lips grazed across his cheek, that painful knot worsened.

Drawing a soft breath, Benjamin rocked back onto his heels and rose on wobbly limbs, the moment forcibly ended. "I'll be back," he promised again. Realizing that he was still holding onto Emma's hand, he released her and rubbed his palm over his thigh, almost as if her very touch had burned him. "Goodnight, Swan."

Caleb was uncharacteristically nettled. After they'd buried Randall in the woods, the whaler spat upon the grave and then urinated upon the newly disturbed plot of earth. Benjamin allowed the foul behavior. He, too, held no love in his heart for reprehensible monsters, and once their work was through, they trekked back across camp towards his tent.

"Remember," Benjamin instructed, "Randall defected. This way, no one will ever bother looking for him here in camp."

"As if anyone gives a shite," Caleb snapped. "All I can say is, the bastard's lucky he's already dead."

Benjamin hummed in agreement. And then once they made sure it was safe to enter his quarters, he and his friend stepped inside to check on Emma.

All at once, Caleb gathered the princess into his strong arms, mindful of her wound as he greeted, "Oi, Emma-love, how you doin', uh? I'd offer to kill that lobcock myself, but it seems ya already did the fun part for me."

Benjamin met with Emma's gaze, but he couldn't bring himself to smile. "How's your wound?" he softly asked. "Do we need to wake Dr. Weston, after all?"

#see now she's talking again lol an attempt to put some distance again plus Caleb is a buffer #they are so DANGEROUS. they went one year with decent distance and then this was like dflhgflkg all at once #I don't think they (Emma) will go another year without basically touching now that they crossed that line tho lol #I'm also amused because I think the starting point will keep being 'Emma gets hurt/is hurting' between migraines and emotions and protectin #Sackett and all that so that's like. the conditions for them to allow closeness is that she's half dead lmaoo #honorhearted #a calming calamity

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soleilnomoon · 3 years ago

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Dunno if you do multi-character scenarios but I'm going to ask anyway👻 I thought about a fluff/angst one in which Zoro and Law's (seperate) s/o was critically injured in a fight but kept on fighting and then after the battle passing out for a week. When they wake up they ask them why they did it they say something along the lines of "I promised you I wouldn't die and I keep my promises" (sorry if it's too specififc, this idea had been swimming in my head for days😅)

hiii so sorry this took so long, work keeps me busy these days ♥️ ꒰ᵕ༚ᵕ⑅꒱ hope this was enough angst for you 🤓

1.2k words, gn reader (no pronouns, babey), sfw, angst-lite, maybe a bit of fluff (i’m not gr8 at it ok), no real warnings

there’s never a good time to say i told you so; it’s not really built in him to hold things like that over people — not seriously, anyway — but with you, he constantly feels like saying i told you so. you push yourself harder than necessary; is it to compensate for a lack of strength? is it to challenge yourself? or to prove your worth to your crew?

it baffles him constantly. the beauty of working as a unit alongside luffy and that pompous, idiot cook, is that he rarely has to worry about them not being able to take care of themselves. and maybe it’s because you two are dating that this feels a little different; but he doesn’t like it, not one bit.

he hates seeing you get hurt, hates the way you leap headfirst into danger, hates how you nearly escape death almost every single time. it’s not enough for him to be strong enough to protect his captain and the rest of the crew — but he has to make sure that you’re protected too. between you and luffy, he’s not sure who he values more — and, it’s never been a contest, as you have always understood the love he holds for his captain. it’s hard not to care for him.

but, when you willingly throw yourself in danger like that, his priorities shift.

it’s not enough that chopper is a phenomenal doctor, that they rushed you to him as soon as they could, or that he started treatment right away. there aren’t many things that frighten zoro, but the sight of your unmoving body on the battlefield brings every single anxious thought to life. he paces through the corridors, snaps at everyone else, refuses to sleep, and barely eats.

everything about your condition consumes his thoughts; he never thought his heart would ever be a source of weakness for him, but it is. still, he stays by your side as you rest, sleep evading him day in and day out. nighttime is the worst, because the silence of the ship rouses the shadows around your room — and, naturally, he hallucinates. all he hears are taunts of his inability to protect you, of his incompetence, of how he isn’t strong enough.

when you do eventually wake up, he’s seated at your bedside, nodding off but not quite sleeping completely, the restlessness has gotten to him badly enough that any movement he detects has him up and alert. despite sleeping for all that time — and, a week is a long time — you roll over and yawn, the fatigue still lingering over your body, in your mind. it’s hard to focus but when you see him sitting there, you manage to reach a hand out and brush your fingers against his knee.

if he wasn’t so aware of your presence, he’d swear he was hallucinating. he opens his mouth, but closes it right away, thoughts swimming around clumsily in his mind. he’s absolutely exhausted, but he asks only one question.

“why?”

his voice is so quiet you almost don’t hear him, but you see the severe expression on his face, the dark circles underneath his eyes, and you only smile gently in response before giving him your true answer.

“remember, what i promised you?” you pause, give him a moment to think, but eventually add, “i told you that i wouldn’t die. and i always keep my promises.” it’s such a bold, absurd statement that it makes him laugh —for the first time in days, actually — you end up laughing alongside him and rolling onto your back, giving him room to climb into the bed with you. you don’t consider yourself a reckless person, but that brush with death was a little too close for comfort.

to be frank, he’s quite disappointed in you; your blatant disregard for following his directives, for wanting to do your own thing — following your own path, and whatnot — for making him worry as a doctor, as your captain, and as your lover, really sends him spirilling. it’s all too new for him, honestly.

normally, everyone falls in line, they don’t exactly question his authority, but they trust him implicitly. he’s told you time and time again, plans are made for a reason. there are contingency plans for those original plans that are also made for a reason. law spends a lot of time planning — and brooding. but, he always manages to find a way to also have separate plans for you too.

except— you still throw him for a loop, still deviate from his predictions, still give him more wrinkles than he cares to deal with. trafalgar law, by nature, is extremely patient — he has to be, the pirate world is brutal, unforgiving, and there’s little room for mistakes. so, when you end up wounded, end up on the verge of death, practically bleeding out in his arms, he makes it his business to do everything to save your life.

and he does. he knows your body needs rest, knows he shouldn’t fuss over you in secret, knows he shouldn’t be hard on his crewmates when really he’s just stressed over you. but he can’t help it. at night he finds himself unable to sleep, and despite bepo telling him to take better care of himself, he refuses. because what’s the point if you never wake up?

the thought haunts him; he’s barely eaten and has consumed enough coffee to keep him awake for weeks. it’s in the middle of a warm afternoon when you finally wake up; a week in bed has your bones and body aching, although you suppose it might also have to do with you being severely injured not too long ago. but, you notice your captain right away, staring at you with a strange look on his face. it’s a mix between disbelief, fury, and relief.

“care to explain yourself?” his tone is even, much too calm for the explosive feelings that lie deep inside of him. he keeps telling himself to keep it together but feels his control slipping.

you don’t have any legitimate excuse, but you sigh a bit, press your lips together and think. the mattress dips under his weight as he sits next to you, his fingers tilting your chin up so you can look at him properly. “i’m waiting,” he says, the words coming out more curt than he means for them to be.

an idea forms in your head; when in doubt, a bit of light banter always gets you out of tricky situations especially with him.

“like i said ages ago,” you start, a cheeky grin appearing on your weary face, “i don’t die easily, and even if i do happen to die, i’ll still come back.” it’s not funny at all, but you do your best to school your features. law stares at you for a bit longer than he means to and, finally, sighs.

“you’re such a handful,” he scolds, but you can hear the tenderness behind his words, his fingers moving to glide along your jaw. and you smile to yourself, despite the fact that you could have died for real, making a mental note to try and not make your boyfriend worry more than he needs to.

#one piece imagine #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #law x y/n #fic request #one piece angst #zoro angst #law angst #trafalgar law x y/n #one piece hcs

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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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Hello! Can you write one about Nanami where the reader is oblivious and they're really close to Gojo so he gets jealous often. Sometimes Gojo does things purposely to annoy him and one day he just lost his composure and accidentally admitted his feelings for you.

I hope u accept if you're not too busy. Thank you!!!

— a little push

— sometimes all nanami needs is a little push.

nanami kento x fem! reader

thank you for the request anon! i’m not sure if reader is oblivious enough but i hope you like it! there’s some thick pining here hur hur, i hope you like it! i never knew i needed an easily flustered and awkward nanami in my life also this is unedited as usual

check my bio for masterlist and my milestone event! (◕ᴗ◕✿)

“Do you mind?”

Nanami sighs, silently praying to the heavens you wouldn’t hear the way his heart is absolutely panicking and beating wildly right now. You’d randomly pushed him inside the teachers’ office the moment he got back to the institute at work, and now he’s doomed to hide his feelings while you look up at him with wide, innocent eyes, a shaky yet excited grin painted on your face.

“Sorry, sorry,” you wave your hands in front of you, although he can tell you’re not apologetic at all. Nanami clears his throat when you step backwards to give him space, unsure if he’s happy or sad about the distance. “I was just really excited to see you back.”

Your carefree, lighthearted voice, along with that little jump in your toes combined with your statement – you’re basically asking Nanami to shrivel up already.

The stoic man remains composed, though, only shifting to adjust his tie while he stares down at you. You’re still somewhat bouncing on your feet, teeth biting your lip – a habit you had when you want to say something but contemplating whether you should. Tilting away to hide the slight flush in his cheeks, Nanami sighs again, pretending to be tired.

The last thing he wants to admit that even though he is exhausted from work, is that you’d never bother him. In fact, having you bombard him like this makes him feel like he didn’t deal with special grade curse by himself all alone just an hour ago.

“If there’s something you want to say, I suggest you get it over with. I don’t want to stay overtime and wait until the blindfolded creep comes around.”

You giggle at his insult, hiding behind your cupped palms. Crap, Nanami looks away and focuses on the birds outside instead, suddenly finding them so interesting despite never paying attention to them before. Maybe that was the curse of crushes – it had people acting differently and in complete contrast with their behavior.

“About that,” you begin almost shyly now, and Nanami practically bursts when he sees you tapping both of your pointer fingers together, gaze tilted away from him.

It makes him wonder you’re nearly on the same skill to Gojo, yet still somehow look like a small, innocent being that makes him want to protect you from everything – even if you were more than capable of handling things yourself. Well, Nanami concludes to himself, maybe you’re really just that paradoxical that it makes sense why he can never think straight around you. Maybe he’s really not supposed to understand the complexity of his feelings when you were a phenomena to begin with already.

“You see…Satoru asked me out.”

Nanami stiffens at your statement for a split second before his head whips to you so fast. You’re observant – of course you are, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer – and you easily pick up in his sudden change of demeanor. Your brow raises at his abrupt reaction, to which Nanami conceals by flexing his neck and rolling his shoulders back.

“I am simply tired from work,” he haf-lies, “So, Satoru asked you out? Will you say yes?”

His words and tone are monotonous, almost bored even, but deep inside he’s so close to beating the crap out of his co-worker. Well, not really, Nanami isn’t a man of violence, but he’s jealous. Of course he is – he’s liked you ever since Principal Yaga hired you.

He’s never told Satoru about his little crush on you. He would be stupid to do such; Satoru would tease him to no end and maybe even be as childish to go as far as pushing him to you. Typical elementary shit, Nanami cringes to himself, watching as you look down at your feet with a pout. Now that confused him. He isn’t sure what your body language means at all, but patient as ever, Nanami only waits.

“Well,” you scratch your forehead, “I’m really flattered. I want to say yes because Satoru is a nice guy—”

“He is not. I do not respect him.”

You roll your eyes at the way his eyes darkens, “—but also I’m not sure if I should. I mean, Satoru doesn’t really date, you know? He’ll be with like one girl and be with another the next week. I just don’t want to…like, fall for that, I guess. Not that I won’t, because he’s totally not my type—”

“It’s just a yes or no,” Nanami cuts you off, his words coming out a lot harsher than he intends it to be. It’s not that he’s annoyed at your rambling, he actually finds it so adorable when you get so lost in your train of thoughts that your mind just travels from one place to another, and seeing how your eyes just leave farther from reality is something he’s always find such an attractive quirk, but not now – not when his infuriating co-worker is intending to mess with your feelings. “Do you want to go or not? Yes or no? It’s as simple as that.”

You blink back at him in surprise, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Sometimes it’s hard to remember that Nanami was a no-bullshit man who hit things right on the head, a huge contrast to your happy-go-lucky self, but he’s right.

It is that simple – and you’re complicating things all over again.

When you give him an answer, Nanami has to muster all his energy to not deflate. He’s tired – but now his exhaustion and even the heartbreak comes crashing down all over him that he’s immediately weighed down and overwhelmed – so much so that all he wants is to go home.

“Yes, I want to go.”

It’s his day off.

Like everything else in his life, Nanami plans everything down to the last minute of his day. His day off consisted of him having the privilege to sleep in until 8am, then breakfast with coffee from that great café a five minute walk away from his apartment, then he’ll be reading books in his study for two hours. Comes after that is lunch, and he’ll brows through some TV shows, pick up his clothes from the dry cleaning, get that special limited edition dinner of his favorite sushi, read books again and call it a day.

Simple, peaceful, no hassle – it’s the perfect day to relax.

Except it isn’t.

Because it’s your day off too, and you’re out on a date with Satoru. He still remembers how happy you looked then upon accepting the white haired man’s invitation, your nimble fingers wrapped around his sleeve as you shyly asked him to come with you.

He doesn’t know why you had to bring him, but he doesn’t question it, nonetheless. Nanami wants to see how Satoru would react, if there could be any indication from the man behind his blindfold that he had ill intentions. Oddly enough, there didn’t seem to be any. Satoru only beamed and deflated into a chibi, enthusiastically nodding along with you while you planned your date together.

Nanami took it upon himself to leave.

With a silent scoff, Nanami placed his dinner down on the counter. Because it’s his day off – and mostly because he doesn’t feel like himself – Nanami went out to buy the limited edition sushi wearing a white shirt and some gray sweatpants, too forlorn and a little jealous to even bother dressing up.

It’s stupid, really. He’s been looking forward for this sushi for a long, long time, but now that he’s had it, he can’t even enjoy the taste. His mind keeps going back to you.

Were you having fun with Satoru? Were you enjoying your time? Was Satoru treating you well? What was Satoru’s intentions when it came with you? The last time Nanami checked, you and him got along really well and you’re mostly the one who whacks the taller man in the head upside down when he’s being stupid, almost like two peas in a pod, except you were the smarter one. He’d been so sure you’re nothing but friends and yet…it all lead to this.

Nanami pushes his sushi away. They no longer taste like anything, the texture like dried paper on his mouth. He wipes his lips with a napkin, staring longingly at well…nothing. His walls were plain and empty, and suddenly, Nanami can’t help but compare himself to Gojo.

You both planned to go to the local carnival. There’d be lots of foods and even parlor shops, ferris wheel rides and photo booths to create memories. Of course you and Satoru would go there; both of you enjoyed loud, bustling crowds, claiming there was something amazing about basking in the “lives of humans when ignorant of curses” while Nanami prefers his peace and silence.

Had you gone out on a date with him instead, Nanami can’t guarantee he’ll be any fun. He most definitely wouldn’t ask you to go to a carnival with him either. It was loud, cramped, crowded, and it’s too chaotic for him to ever enjoy your presence and enjoy it alone.

Nanami closes the sushi box, turns on the TV and lets is play on the background, a wet towel above his eyes to relax his tired eyes.

He hopes you’re having fun. He hopes Satoru is treating you well. Nanami just ignores the slight pain in his chest when he thinks of you, laughing and touching anyone but him, and he could picture it already. You’ve always been so open and welcoming to everyone, he knows you’ll have fun today, too.

That’s one of the things he finds most endearing about you – that your smile never fades and you never forget about the simple, little things in life to focus on to keep your sanity after facing curse after curse.

He’s fine, he tells himself. Satoru may be annoying, but he knows you could have fun with him, and you deserved to be happy more than anyone else.

Nanami is about to fall asleep on his couch when his phone vibrates on the coffee tables. Groaning, he flicks off the towel to his shoulders, grumbling about how Principal Yaga better be respecting his day off, but the last thing he expects to see is your contact name flashing on the screen. In the contact photo, you’re winking with a peace sign held above your head.

You look so utterly adorable Nanami just wants to kiss you. He remembers this photo was taken when Yuuji got bored and asked to play games on his phone. Upon finding that there was none – of course there was none – the strawberry-haired student opted for taking pictures of everyone instead. There’s one with Nobara growling, Megumi sipping his boba-tea with dead eyes as if he’s so done with the world, more than twenty pictures of Satoru flexing his muscles and posing like an idiot, and then there’s yours.

Nanami remembers staring at his phone for a solid minute, his gallery actually blessed with your face in it. The sun shines behind you on that photo and you’re absolutely shining. He thinks that’s when he truly fell in love.

And it just so happened the love of his life is calling, making his heart skip a beat because shouldn’t you be with Gojo? Why were you calling him? Did something wrong happen?

Nanami doesn’t waste another second before swiping the green icon, already standing up from the couch as he grabs his jacket. He had this weird inkling something is wrong, why else would you call him?

His theories are proven true when your voice comes out shaky. “H-hello?”

“Good evening,” he greets stiffly, brows furrowed as he listens in on the way you seem to be shuffling around. “Is there something wrong?”

“I, uhm,” he hears you sniffle through the other line, “Yeah, I guess there is…Satoru just texted he can’t come because Principal Yaga suddenly sent him to a mission overseas…and then I just realized that Satoru’s been summoned by the elders and he’s just refusing to show up, so now they cornered him, I guess… anyways, I’m talking too much and I don’t want to be a bother, but would you maybe…like to hang out with me?”

Nanami’s hand freezes on the doorknob. “Hang out…professionally?”

He immediately wants to smack himself in the forehead for that. Out of all things he could’ve said, he just had to utter something unintelligent. He hears you snicker in the background and Nanami’s ears redden.

He quickly regains his composure with a clear of his throat, suddenly remembering that Satoru’s ditched you, so now you’re asking him instead. It kind of feels like he’s just a replacement, but Nanami buries this feeling down before it consumes him, wondering if he’s already regretting changing into better clothes because he actually agreed to go to a carnival with you.

Upon hearing your happy, “Okay! I’ll wait for you then!”, Nanami realizes that he doesn’t actually mind. Especially not with you.

The carnival is loud.

Nanami dreads the moment he steps out of his car, his body swallowed by the bustling crowd and defeaning music of banging drums and clashing instruments. There’s a hundred scents everywhere – smoke, fish, glazed apples – he doesn’t know where to begin or how to focus.

He nearly turns back to his hair, about to shoot you a text that maybe this is beyond him after all. His head begins to spin when he’s only pushed deeper into the crowd, people bumping into him with every single second and it’s so suffocating. It doesn’t make sense to him how anyone could possibly go on a date like this and enjoy it. He knows for sure this chaos won’t let him enjoy his date’s presence because he’s too busy trying to get away from it all.

Nanami staggers for a bit when a strong hand tugs him to the side. Soon, he finds himself pressed flush against you in a tight corner, your hips warm on his. “Hi,” you breathe out airily, lashes fanning and fluttering in that same manner that always made his heart do complete flips.

“Hello,” he greets back with a small bow out of faux respect, but really, he’s just keeping his head down because you look so beautiful in that moment he doesn’t even know where to look. You’re warm and soft next to his hard and stiff muscles, the scent of roses and vanilla mixing in with the street smoke and Nanami’s head grows dizzy, his hand around yours tightening for comfort. “Y/N…I do not prefer this crowd. Can I take you back home instead? You must be tired – I’ll prepare dinner for you.”

Nanami blinks back in surprise when he sees you nod, a slight grimace on your face, and you practically bury your face in his bicep as you groan, “It’s too noisy for me too. Let’s just hang out at your place.”

So you end up in his immaculately clean apartment, admiring and staring at the boring furniture. Nanami changes into more comfortable clothes and whips out something to cook, not wanting to feed you measly take out when you’re probably famished. He watches with side glances as you pick up a photo of him with his parents when he was younger, cooing and giggling at the baby version of him.

“Nanamin, you’re so cute!”

Nanami scoffs and turns back to the heated water in the bowl, arms hard as they cross against his chest covered with an apron. “Please do not call me cute. I am anything but.”

“No, you’re really cute,” you insist, but after seeing Nanami’s flustered frown, you eventually give up and give the poor man a break. Later, you wobble next to him, watching with curious eyes and a small smile as he adds the vegetables into the soup, moving expertly as he diced up the onions to the side. The sheer focus and attention on his daily tasks makes him falter, and he suddenly finds it so hard to function now.

“Why are you staring at me? Is there something so interesting about slicing up onions?”

“No, not really,” you say absentmindedly, the slight plop of the ingredients echoing. “It’s just – I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this way. Domestic, I mean, but it looks good on you,” you nod to yourself, and Nanami finds himself struggling to act as if your presence wasn’t making him go crazy while he proceeds to cook. “In fact, everything looks good on you, and I find you really interesting!”

“Y-you do?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, assisting him silently with mixing the bowl even when he didn’t ask you to. Unaware that he’s now focused on you, watching you cook with him with you pressed up against his side, almost as if it’s right where you belong, Nanami feels the same with you. You also look good being this domestic with him, and he suddenly blurts out, “Would you like to stay with me? Like this?”

Your eyes slide over his in a slow fashion, slow enough that his brain hotwires at the fear maybe he’s said something wrong. But Nanami immediately swallows it down, huffing and turning away from you with that stoic expression again. “Forgive me. That was weird—”

“Why would it be weird?” you laughed to yourself before bumping your hips with his, “You’re the one who invited me here. Of course I want to stay.”

That’s…that’s not what he means.

Nanami is left staring openly at you while you help him set the table and you proceed to talk about how you didn’t really want to go to the carnival but Satoru insisted you’d have fun, so you went anyway even if you’d much prefer to be somewhere else. He’s barely listening, too distracted by the way your lips move and how you swing the house slippers on your big toe, your legs crossed on top of another and your figure slightly hunched across from him.

You look so comfortable and welcomed in his home that it puts him at ease too, not worried that he has to impress you anything because it’s you, and Nanami could actually be vulnerable enough to laugh with you over a bowl of vegetable soup.

It’s fine, he lies to himself again, it’s fine that you don’t know he likes you even if he tends to slip and be obvious sometimes. Because at least you’re with him in that moment, and he lies to himself again that it’s fine, that maybe next time he’ll tell you, but he doesn’t worry about. How could he worry about it when you’re snorting so loud over a lame joke he said that rice nearly came out your nose, and he’s so drunk over the sound of your bubbly laughter that something flutters deep within his belly?

When you help him wash the dishes and bask in the silence instead, comfortable over the lack of words and nothing but the sound of his faucet running and the slight rubbing of towels against dishes heard in the background, Nanami is unsure whether he’s glad that Satoru ditched you on your first date.

It doesn’t stop there.

Nanami only keeps falling in love with you more. He’s been doing a good job of keeping his feelings to himself because the last thing he wants is to have you stay away from him, but Satoru was really getting on his nerves.

He’s just come back from exorcising a curse when he sees you and Satoru play-wrestling in the field with the other students. Megumi is grumbling to himself in the corner, Yuuji is laughing and cheering on you to tackle down his sensei who’s currently going down in high-pitched laughter, Toge pumping his fists and screaming, “Salmon, salmon!”

It’s a chaotic sight – one that he usually doesn’t mind – until you finally pin Satoru down on the ground, your ass above his crotch. Satoru’s hands then come up to squeeze your ass and hips under the false pretense he’s struggling to push you off him, but Nanami knows better.

“Give up already!” you tease the other sorcerer who’s still wriggling underneath you, and Nanami sees it before it happens.

Satoru’s legs bend beneath you and he tries to pin you under him in quick movements, but Nanami is faster, his reflexes taking over. Before he realizes what he’s doing, Nanami tugs you and pulls you forward until you collide on his chest. He’s breathing hard, eyes narrowed at the arrogant smirk painted on Satoru’s features. Meanwhile, you’ve softened in Nanami’s grip, hands fisting his shirt that has him hardening up out of sheer protectiveness.

“Oh, Nanamin!” Satoru beams while wiping the dirt on his hands across his uniform, “Glad to see you here. You wanna join training too?”

“This is hardly training,” he retorts with a clenched jaw, “You’re harassing and disrespecting your fellow sorcerer because you can never keep your dirty hands to yourself,” before Satoru could defend himself, he’s already all over you, his hand tilting your chin side to side to check for any injuries. “Are you hurt anywhere? Did this bastard do anything else?”

“No, not really—”

“Why do you care so much, Nanamin?” Satoru teases, and the students all huddle to watch the commotion. Everyone can feel the tension rising, and Nanami only stiffens up further when he feels you lean closer to his warmth almost absentmindedly. “She and I were just playing around, no hard feelings, no foul play. We’re just having fun, right, Y/N?”

“She is not someone you can just have fun with, Satoru. You’ve already crossed the line when you ditched her on your first date, and you didn’t even bother texting or calling back when I drove her home. It’s disrespectful, and she deserves better than that.”

“Nanami—”

“I was busy,” Satoru sighs dramatically, “And if she deserves better than me, then who would it be? I can take care her of her, you know, she and I have been besties for like what, a year now? I’ll be good to her,” he smirks, and Nanami wants nothing more than to punch him square in the jaw. “Besides, it’s not like she’s dating anyone else. She’s single and ready to mingle—”

“Maybe she is, but I’m not,” Nanami deadpans, his harsh tone shocking everyone.

“Wh-what do you mean?” you squeak under him, and Nanami falls silent. He’s never thought of confessing to you, especially not this way, and Nobara is biting Yuuji’s jacket behind them to muffle her squeals. Panda is clapping his hands and whispers oh, here we go, followed by Toge’s salmon salmon.

It dawns on him now that everyone knows he likes you after all, and now that he’s confronted with the situation, he can’t run away from it. Not that Nanami plans on running away, for he is a man and his pride doesn’t allow him to evade situations like this.

He just wishes it could’ve gone out better.

“Forgive me if this makes you uncomfortable,” Nanami releases his grip on you, loosening his tie that makes him feel like he’s choking both on air and his words. Through his cool stature, he’s actually sweating inside his clothes, and it doesn’t help you’re patient with him too, head tilted to the side curiously and so horribly cutely he might combust. “But I have always been, and I still am, utterly in love with you.”

Nobara and Yuuji no longer hold back as they scream to themselves, the former slapping the latter in his back while Megumi only shakes his head, muttering “about time,” under his breath. Maki snickers to herself and Satoru is stunned, but it’s nothing compared to the way you shrink under his gaze for a moment.

He believes you’re going to run away from him because of his blatant confession; it wasn’t romantic at all, and the kids are still screaming too loudly for him to form coherent thoughts.

Nanami begins to form a deep bow, ready to apologize wholeheartedly and to politely ask you to forget this if you wish – he would respect your decision. But just as his gaze met the ground, he’s thrown off balance as you jump on him, soft glossy lips crashing into his.

The screams and cheers of everyone are suddenly drowned out when he feels your lips molding onto his, and he can feel you smiling happily, giggling while his hands tentatively run down your hips to hold you close. It’s unprofessional, displeasing, and downright horrendous to be kissing someone during work hours while the students are watching, especially because his clothes are crumpled from your eager touch and you’re on top of his chest, but Nanami absolutely doesn’t give a single fuck because he’s kissing you back fervently.

It’s what he’s always wanted – you’re the one he’s always wanted, and now that he has you in his hold, he’s not easily letting you go.

“See? I told you guys,” Satoru proudly puffs his chest up in the background, “All Nanamin needs is a little push.”

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