#to endure life for someone else is to devote your life to them. to me it is.

[evilkaeya]

I'm afraid I'll never be normal after finishing this novel

[hellokittyyyysblog]

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓸𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓲𝓷/ part 1

Pairing: vampire!𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚊 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

Summary: You work as an intern at a prestigious law firm, dedicating countless afterhours to your tasks. One seemingly ordinary late night, you encounter a mysterious individual who reveals a discovery that shatters your perception of reality and everything you once believed in. This fateful meeting sets off a chain of events that will forever alter the course of your life.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

- - -- -- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -- -- - -

It was dark outside, though you only knew by chance. You had caught a fleeting glimpse of the night through a window as you passed by a coworker's office—a brief reminder of the world beyond the law firm's walls.

Working after hours had become routine. Since starting as an intern, you'd quickly realized that your official duties were merely the tip of the iceberg; unseen responsibilities piled up off the record. The firm demanded your efforts but refused to pay for them, yet clocking out on time was a surefire way to lose your job— you'd witnessed it happen to many diligent workers.

The company expected unwavering devotion; free time was a luxury reserved for those at the top. If you wanted to keep your position, you had to play their game, allowing your superiors to exploit your fear of unemployment. They dangled potential futures before you and the other underpaid interns, but in the months you had been there, no one had been promoted who wasn't already wealthy and privileged. Still, you were determined to become that someone, enduring the unethical treatment and the all-consuming nature of your work. You believed that someday it would all be worth it; the challenge lay in enduring the suffering long enough to reach that point.

After all, it was your goal to do what made you most proud in life and felt natural: defending people. You were a natural at it, always standing up for classmates when they were unfairly called out by teachers for some unknown reason or when someone picked on your friends.

You were the one your friends turned to when they were in trouble, the one who could see through the noise to the heart of the matter. — It felt like a calling, an inner drive to protect and advocate for those who couldn't do it for themselves. You had envisioned the courtroom as your ultimate arena, where your skills and passion would converge to champion justice.

Little did you know, your world was about to take a drastic turn.

Lost in your thoughts and consumed by exhaustion, you found yourself staring out the window— the dark cityscape a blurred mosaic of lights.

Suddenly, the sharp click of heels behind you snapped you back to reality. The sound echoed through the empty halls, reminding you of where you were. You turned around to see Ava, your coworker; her short black hair moved with a graceful sway, catching the faint light from the hallway lamps. Her features, distinctly European with delicate French contours, gave her an air of sophistication.

She was more than just a coworker; Ava was your closest friend in the firm. Both of you had come to the States for college—she from France, you from Italy—making a bond over shared experiences of adapting and striving in a demanding professional world.

"What are you doing here so late?" she asked—her voice filled with genuine concern.

"I could ask you the same" you replied, managing a tired smile.

Ava blushed slightly and glanced around to make sure no one else was nearby. "I had a... meeting. Or more like a hookup, actually— with Louis. You know, one of the senior partners? We've been seeing each other secretly."

You raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Louis, huh? I knew it. You can't hide anything from me. How's that going?"

She grinned, a playful glint in her eye. "It's complicated, but he's been really good to me. Just trying to keep it under wraps, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it. Just be careful; this place is a minefield."

Ava nodded, her expression turning serious. "I know. But enough about me. What about you? Why are you still here?"

"I was just going through some old case files and doing some research" you explained. "I was actually about to head to Davis's office to update him on a case we've been working on."

“He really pushes you to work too hard, and no, don’t defend him anymore” she remarked with a sympathetic expression. “AND we haven't hung out in SO long….how about cocktails on Friday?"

You smiled "That sounds perfect. I definitely need a break."

"Great! It's a date then" Ava said with a wink. "Well, I'll let you get to Davis's office. Don't stay too late."

"Thanks, Ava. See you tomorrow"

You both exchanged goodbyes, and you watched as she walked down the corridor—the sound of her heels fading into the distance as you made your way to Davis office. The cold air was making you shiver and the thin fabric of your black slacks and white blouse were not keeping you warm enough. Each step of your high heels echoed softly in the quiet hallway, the usual bustling energy of the office now replaced by a serene emptiness.

Reaching Davis's door, you knocked firmly—the sound punctuating the silence. After a moment, the door cracked open, revealing his assistant, Emily, peering out with a polite smile.

"Hello" she greeted warmly. "Can I help you?"

"I was hoping to speak to Davis" you replied—trying to hide your discomfort from the chill— "I have an update on the case we've been working on."

"Ah, he was actually looking for you. He's in Bowman's office" Emily informed you.

"Thank you, Emily" you replied gratefully, offering a brief smile before saying your goodbyes.

Great. You thought, while making your way to bowman’s office.

Interacting with one of the two CEOs after such an exhausting day wasn't something you relished. Bowman was notorious for his tough demeanor and demanding expectations, and you couldn't shake the apprehension as you headed towards his office— and you weren't exactly looking forward to interrupt his meeting either.

You knocked on the door of his office, expecting to be called in, but you were met with more silence. Emily had said, Bowman's office, you knew she had. — Yet you couldn't even hear someone approaching the door to let you into the room. So you stood there like a deer in headlights.— If your presence was needed, surely you'd be expected to arrive at some point.

You were torn between knocking again and seeming impatient or standing in the hall like a clueless know-nothing. Both impressions were unflattering.

However, you'd rather look too eager, than not eager enough. So you knocked again. This time, you heard murmuring inside. You weren't sure if someone was being instructed to open the door, or if you were being instructed to enter. After another moment of waiting with your mouth hanging open, you took a deep breath and reached for the door handle.

The door didn't open slowly, but it felt like time stood still as the moment you had eyes on the room— you saw Bowman hunched over the desk, blood trickling from his lips. Davis lied lifeless across the tabletop.

Before you could inhale a breath, Bowman was in front of you, with a hand clamped over your mouth. He swiftly pulled you inside the office and locked the door behind you. It took no time at all, but you knew it happened.

"My, my, my, who do we have here…seems like I got myself a delicious midnight snack" Bowman taunted. His chin was dripping with blood that ran down from two prominent fangs. You'd never seen those before.

You wished you had a witty retort, but you were too stilled with fear. He was going to kill you, after maybe taking advantage of your body—that was how things like this worked, or at least that was what films would have you believe. As far as you'd known, vampires weren't real, but crazy men were. Yet you weren’t certain that you were being threatened by that very monster.

"At least you’re still warm”

If you could scream, someone would know. If you could make a lot of noise, they'd catch him in the act, even if you were dead by the time they arrived. You had to make noise.

You couldn't.

But then, you didn't have to. — Bowman’s steely eyes lifted from your face. His jaw tensed and his nostrils flared.

"So they've sent the dogs after me?" He said.

Your vision was obstructed by Bowman’s frame, but someone had entered the office from the window—There hadn't been a sound, yet Bowman hadn't needed to turn around.

"Did you think they wouldn't?" The second voice was the audible equivalent of silk with a twinge of a feminine Slavic accent. "And obviously I came at the right time. How did you plan to clean this up, youngling?"

Bowman’s grip on you waned and he spun around. You hadn't realized your feet were off the ground until your soles hit the floor once more. Bowman reached for your shirt collar to keep you near. At a different angle, you were able to see the woman. She had red hair that complimented her strong features and dark green eyes; like Bowman, she too had longer canines.

You were in awe of her despite feeling the need to stay present in the room—Yet somehow, her presence had made you feel safer—She was clearly unhappy with your boss, but you had no evidence that she would let you live once she was done with bowman.

As if she knew your inner monologue, she addressed you whilst still looking at Bowman. "Human, you may leave."

“Oh no, nope she’s not going anywhere."—Bowman didn't let loose of your shirt.

The woman finally made eye contact with you, and you felt your chest tighten. It felt like the first time someone had ever made eye contact with you—someone had ever seen you. As soon as it happened, it was over just as quickly,and the woman was looking at the man beside you. Her head tilted like a cat sizing up its prey. Whatever she was thinking, whatever she was planning with that look, was not good, but you felt oddly sure that you were not her focus.

It took no time at all for the woman to cross the room. You didn't even catch it with your eyes; she was a blur. But you knew she had to be faster and stronger than Bowman, as she had him in less than a second. His hand was no longer attached to you. You were free. It happened so fast that it didn't register. You were transfixed by the red-headed woman hoisting Bowman up into the air. His feet dangled despite the fact that he was nearly a foot taller than she.

"Human" the redhead said calmly, without looking at you. "Is this your boss?"

"Yes" your mouth felt dry—it was the first time you'd spoken since Bowman had dragged you into the room.

"Then I would say that considering the time, you have the rest of the night off."

Understanding why moving would take some time—but you'd regained enough of your faculties to know that it was time to leave. With a squeaked, "Thank you" you exited the office—The door closed behind you without a need for effort on your part. Whatever the woman was going to do, she didn't want an audience.

You looked disheveled, and your eyes were still wide and pleading for safety, though you were alone and, as far as you knew, you were safe. Though no one would see you and think 'Vampire attack interrupted' if someone took the time to spare you a glance, they would see a person who had clearly experienced something out of the ordinary. You were not the same as you'd been when you'd entered the boss' office—in more ways than one.

You hurried to your office, grateful for the late hour and the deserted offices that ensured no one noticed your swift departure as you gathered your belongings. Amid the quiet corridors, a solitary light emanated from the closed door of the office opposite yours, a reminder that you weren't entirely alone in the building.

Unbeknownst to you at the time, Bowman's parting grip had left a faint smear of blood on your jaw—It went unnoticed until you caught your reflection in the elevator doors.

The front desk attendant gave you an habitual: "Have a good evening."

"Thanks" you managed to say. Your voice was a bit shaky, but the attendant didn't notice. He actually looked at you, but you knew it was a part of his routine. He'd send you all off, nod in your direction, and then he'd go back to his computer. At least someone had acknowledged you, you thought—though, he was as oblivious as anyone else. The front desk was probably not the best place for a person who apparently had tunnel vision.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The chill of the night greeted you as soon as you stepped outside, accompanied by a wild wind that seemed to howl through the air. You knew the sound was just the wind—familiar yet eerie after your recent encounter with the supernatural. If vampires were real, as you were now certain they were after what you had witnessed, then the possibility of werewolves seemed just as plausible.

You took a deep breath, trying to process everything. Your supervisor was dead, and your boss—a vampire? It was all so nonsensical, yet you had seen it with your own eyes. The memory of her, pale and powerful, lingered vividly in your mind.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the red-haired woman who appeared suddenly in your path until she was right in front of you. You gasped and instinctively took a step backward. The woman made no move to invade your personal space; instead, she stood calmly, confident that you wouldn't flee. Despite the flight alarms blaring in your mind, you found yourself rooted to the spot.

"Human” the woman said. It was a word you had never been addressed with before, yet tonight it had been uttered several times already in reference to your kind. Despite knowing it to be an undeniable fact, hearing yourself labeled as merely 'human' felt oddly surreal. Normally, you might have laughed it off or made a light-hearted comment or a teasing remark, but the intensity in the woman's eyes quelled any inclination for humor or banter.

"You cannot tell another about what you witnessed tonight."

She was fast. She must have “finished�� Bowman while you were in the elevator—maybe even before. You envisioned the nightly cleaning staff stumbling onto a horrific crime scene. You liked the night staff, they didn't deserve to clean up such a mess—disposing of viscera was not in their job description.

"I won't" you replied. The thruth is you wanted to tell someone; holding in that kind of information was going to make you sick. But you knew, deep down, that the moment you opened your mouth, others would think you were insane. "No one would believe me."

"Unfortunately, that is a chance I cannot take." the redhead woman replied with a gentle, almost mocking smirk.

You instinctively took another step back, feeling the edge of the wall against your back. People streamed out of the building, oblivious to the tense encounter unfolding just steps away; oblivious of the fact that maybe those were your last moments on earth.

"You don't have to—" Your voice faltered, shaky with fear. The woman's threat hung heavy in the air. If she intended to kill you, there was little you could do to stop her. You had witnessed her power in action, if only briefly, and it left you unnerved. You gulped, "I won't say anything. I promise. You don't have to kill me." Maybe you should’ve said something more convincing than “I promise”when someone was about to take your life. Did promises bring any value to her kind? She would’ve never believed you.

She arched a brow, studying you with a mixture of amusement and disdain—her frown deepened, as if she disliked your assumption. It was clear she was capable of violence and you were uncertain if she had any inclination towards mercy. Her words had left little room for interpretation—she intended to eliminate any witnesses, and you stood alone as the only witness.

"I do not wish to kill you" she said. Her voice was so soothing that it made your shoulders soften. You hadn't realized how stiff you'd gone.

Her presence held power over you, and when she said she didn't want to kill you, you believed her.

"Then what do you want to do? I meant it, I won't tell anyone. I don't even know your name."

"And you won't. I will take away the memory of tonight for your safety and the safety of my people."

"Your people...you mean uh…"

She nodded and made no effort to verbally confirm your suspicions.

You were silent as you stared at the confirmed vampire in your presence. She was mysterious in a very dangerous way—but a feeling was burning in your stomach. It felt like a need, but you hadn't a clue as to what you needed and how the red-haired vampire could help you.

Apparently, her way of helping you was erasing a piece of your mind. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but she had expressed the explicit desire to tamper with your memories.

It would feel better, you sensed that much. You knew that the shock would go away, as would the fear, and unanswered questions. But, with those negative things would go the knowledge that you as a human were not alone. Knowledge was power, even if you weren't sure how to wield it yet.

"I don't want to forget" you admitted quietly.

When the woman approached you again, you didn't step back. "I want to know what happened to my friend.”

The vampire reached out and rubbed away the blood from your chin, she hadn’t asked, and you didn't need her to. You stood still and let her.

"You want to remember the way he met his end? for what purpose?”

"Someone should know; someone who knew him."

"And when your boss is missing and you know the truth, what will you say?"

You weren't sure how to answer the vampire's question. Everything had moved so fast, you didn't have time to plan what you'd say to everyone else.

"I don't know."

She considered you, and most likely what she was going to do with you. You weren't convincing, you knew, but she hadn't acted without consulting you. So maybe, just maybe, you had a way out of having your mind wiped.

"Go home, human" she said—and you thought you'd taken a kickball to the gut—you were taken aback so abruptly.

She was letting you leave, or so it seemed. "You have twenty-four hours to consider this choice. I hope you will see reason. I will find you tomorrow night."

You should have focused on the deal the vampire was making you, rather than the fact that she was promising another meeting.

Maybe she would answer some of your questions.

Maybe she would satiate your curiosity.

Or maybe she would make you forget she existed at all.

"How will you find me?" you asked— It was a wonder, but it was one of the last questions you should have asked— she'd scaled a building and entered through a window without so much as a sound. She could find you easily. You wasted your breath asking a question that didn't need to be answered.

"Don't worry about me. Keep your wits about you, and your mouth closed. Consider my offer and the alternative. Your knowledge is yours for now, but understand that should you speak of this night to anyone in the next day, my offer will be revoked." She said before turning around and disappearing behind the crowd.

The vampire woman was not suggesting that she'd lay off and leave your memories alone. She was suggesting that you and your knowledge would cease to be. She was essentially giving you a day to come to your senses and realize that you wanted to forget the ordeal.

But you were stubborn and embarrassingly naive, and she was too interesting to forget. You had to figure out a way to keep your knowledge and gain some answers in the process, if only for a chance to see her again.

- - -- -- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -- -- - -

[nerdishpursuits]

This show really said Nihil sine Marta. There's no front where she doesn't have to do battle and defend. The sheer amount of pressure she's under right now is overwhelming. If Marta gets out of this without any health issues, I'd be surprised. At least there's a silver lining. For while most of the world is out to destroy her, she finds solace, passion and love in Fina's arms. They are each other's strength and watching them reaffirm their devotion and commitment to each other, time and again, is both heartwarming and inspiring.

I don't think I've ever seen such a well-developed sapphic relationship on TV. It feels like a breath of fresh air and it's a joy to watch it unfold and grow. They’ve planted their flag and defend it, standing tall in the face of so much adversity. How far they’ve come. Does it mean they are unafraid now? Of course not. But they are embracing their truth and choosing each other every day in spite of that fear. Because the love they have for each other is worth fighting for, is worth facing the entire world for.

Speaking of an unfolding narrative. They are truly putting them through the ringer. And it's most likely only the tip of the iceberg. The constant stress they are under is debilitating. Inimicus ante Portas: hurling their accusations, making their demands, snarling in condescension. There's blood in the water and Marta's enemies would only declare themselves sated if they were to witness her downfall, professionally and personally. At this point in the narrative, it's a miracle she's still standing. But like she confessed to Fina: as long as they have each other? Marta will not fall. Therefore, I find myself dreading the kind of blow that would bring Marta to her knees. The kind of blow that would pull Fina asunder too. Would it make for delicious angst? Certainly. Would it hurt? Most definitely.

Nevertheless, while all those fires rage and consume? Marta de la Reina continues on her own quest, one that bestows upon her the title of Great, True Romantic. Endangered too. For hopelessly romantic she is. Judging by the way Mafin is written? I'm inclined to think it's mostly penned by someone who is either profoundly in love, or someone who has loved beyond measure. I also suspect it's most likely a woman / women. For who else bleeds on the page this way? Don't you see, we only have each other. You are everything to me. My strength, everything. I am safe as long as you are safe. There is no turning back, I cannot conceive of my life without you. By your side, I feel that I can face the entire world. The only thing that could undo me is losing you ... I don't want you to suffer and endure humiliation the way that I have. My sole desire is for your safety ... You will not lose me ... I’ve spent half my life adrift, bound to the inertia of others, confined to the shadows, until I found her and she became my light. You cannot ask me to give her up, because you’d be asking me to die while my heart still beats.

It will be an arduous uphill battle but I think Marta's words are also prophetic in nature. There is no turning back for them. The road ahead is together, as one, no matter the sorrow, no matter the cost. Regardless of how much they'll have to wander? Through hope and despair and back again? As long as they have each other? They are not lost.

Speaking of their wanderings through the land of plot. Chairwoman Marta. Pelayo's confession that Marta is his lover, while briefly throwing Don Pedro off the scent, most likely feeds into Carpena’s misogyny. To me he comes across like the kind of man who, deep down, believes women don’t belong in business. The kind of man who thinks women only succeed when they play the seduction card. Which is infuriating for someone of Marta's caliber, who has worked her fingers to the bone to be worthy of her current position. Her intellect, determination and hard work won her the mantle of leadership. Maybe the show wasn't even trying to make this point but Carpena's immediate, sleazy grin upon hearing Pelayo's confession? It irked me because, of course, the only possible way Marta could have gained Pelayo's interest and favor? Her womanly wiles. Points for Pelayo, though. Seems like he's trying to be a good friend and protect Marta as much as he can. And on to rant some more (I'm afraid this post is getting out of hand - for the life of me, I can't seem to keep it short *sigh*)

I’m not one to cuss (much, eh @midniteowlet 😏?) but today it feels warranted. All the idiots coming out of the woodwork with pitch-forks and battle-rams and having lost their intellect, meagre as it is, along the way.

The Merino Bros & their mommy dearest, Pedro and, quite possibly, Tasio? A tomar por cu**.

Marta's face listening to lunacy after lunacy is an absolute poem.

Currently? Marta is the only one making informed decisions that benefit them all. Alongside Damián? She’s the only one who knows how to run the business so they all stand to gain and the workers have job security (I suppose Jesús has business acumen too but his Machiavellian ways leave a lot to be desired)

Which makes it pretty obvious they were going to try and take Marta down. That all these spineless, envious men cannot stand seeing a woman in power. A woman who outsmarts them at every turn and who actually thinks things through.

On the bright side? Should Marta lose the executive chair? I want to see how mama’s boy Joaquin goes running to Marta &. co. later, begging for help, because he’s sinking the business with his arsinine attitude and decisions. I want the Merino to fail so spectacularly they choke on it.

The business with the bathhouse will go up in flames because Joaquin and Luis lack intuition for business. What drives them is an underlying desire for vengeance and a need to satisfy their ego by calling the shots. Competency is not part of their vocabulary. They’re utterly insufferable, terribly immature and are woefully unprepared for what it means to be in charge. Their incompetency, if left unchecked, will prove disastrous for the company.

And then we have Digna. On the one hand? She lived up to her name and acted with dignity, keeping the promise she made Marta and Fina: that she would protect their secret and would never expose them. The fact that she made it clear to Pedro she wouldn't use such harmful rumors to hurt her niece, or the young woman she considers a daughter? It speaks of her capacity to empathize and understand. On the other hand? Her lack of business expertise shows in how she approaches the bathhouse project. She tries to gaslight Marta with talk of family and respect, while showing Marta absolutely no deference or familial support. Digna possesses zero knowledge about running a company. But she has the gall to lecture Marta about it, all because her crybaby sons demand instant gratification and loathe the fact that Marta is in power. The Merino are a sorry bunch and while I feel truly sorry for Gervasio’s demise? If he was as good a business man as his sons? I see why Damián felt he needed to run the company himself (I don’t agree with his methods, of course, but one cannot deny that the Merino family are an executive liability). It also irks me that Digna has the nerve to condescendingly call Marta daughter, while going behind her back and giving Tasio the proverbial knife, urging him to betray his sister. And to think Marta, generously and kindly, wanted to give Tasio a chance. Felt indebted to him, even, and wanted to start anew, as siblings. No matter how they twist and turn his character, he ends up falling short somehow. Or doesn't he?

And since Tasio dearest is next on the block? Much like the Merino brothers? A deplorably mediocre man, crying to Marta about how dependent he is on his wife. For how dare Marta send Carmen on a business trip, which is part of her responsibilities as store overseer, given he cannot function without her help?

Poor Tasio. Who’s going to do the dishes now, who’s going to iron his shirts and cook his meals? Woe be him. I honestly can’t with his level of incompetence and stupidity. To have the gall to launch veiled threats at Marta concerning her relationship with Fina (trying to take credit for piecing it all together while knowing full well it’s Carmen who dropped the ball, spectacularly might I add) and insinuating Marta is playing favorites? The level of idiocy this man possesses is truly astounding. As is the level of self-projection Tasio is doing here. Quite noteworthy.

If he only stopped to think for a minute, he’d realize:

1. Fina is Carmen’s right hand at the store. As such, she has the most experience to help out in this situation.

2. Marta emphasized it’s a temporary solution. Tasio’s entire reasoning here is a case of that aforementioned self-projection: he knows full well he’d show favoritism if he were in charge, which is something he confessed to Carmen he’d do. So Tasio filters Marta’s decision through his own, faulty thought-sieve. Heavens help him. Not to mention he's also easy to manipulate. That moral high-horse the Merino are riding? I can't wait to seem them all trampled into the dirt.

3. Mighty hypocritical of Tasio to claim Fina is being ascended (again, temporarily) due to special treatment, when his own promotion is a case of nepotism (unlike his wife, who Marta ascended based on her competence and hard work - wife, who Tasio never threw his support behind, too jealous of her new position). Same story with the shares Tasio received from Marta. His level of entitlement here? It’s that outlandish and that outrageous.

That being rambled? Because Tasio is often such a narrow-minded, pathetic little man? He might cast the deciding vote to remove Marta as CEO. For while Tasio often wants to best himself? He also remains profoundly petty, terribly misinformed and someone who shouldn't be sitting on board meetings. Were it not for Marta’s kindness and goodwill? He’d only have his father’s name and gratitude, and little else.

And what’s going to be Marta’s thank you for it all? Quite possibly a knife to the back. Should that occur, which it might, I do wonder how Tasio thinks he will fit within the de la Reina family in the aftermath? After all, his display of ''business shrewdness'' would prove ruinous. Even Jesús votes for Marta (because in spite of their differences he recognizes she is smart, would never vote against his family and sees the Merino brothers for the fools they truly are) And that’s saying something. So if Tasio really wants to become a pariah in the eyes of his new family? By all means. Vote with their incompetent adversaries. Ultimately, Damián will be more lenient in forgiving him, I suspect. But Tasio would be proving himself undeserving, uninformed, unreasonable and willfully ignorant. Of course, previews are often deliberately misleading and who knows, another Brutus might be lurking in the shadows. Andres maybe? He's so utterly useless, incompetent and easy to manipulate it's pathetic. If Jesús remains the only brother who amounts to anything? Oh, the laughter.

Sure, things might not go down that way at all. Marta might not lose the executive chair, Tasio might not vote against her while Andres could and Don Pedro could resort to blackmail to remove her from the board. As always, we shall see when the episode airs. But goddamn, these PEEople are beyond exhausting. Marta needs that vacation with Fina and she needs it yesterday.

P.s the last gif on the right? that's also me upon realizing how goddamn verbose this post is. Off to word-jail with me!!!

[gothicxreylover]

Greetings! I'm currently kind of in the mood for yandere kny content, especially yandere hashira x reader, and I found your stories by chance. I must say that I'm positively impressed and mesmerized by them and keep wanting to read more 😊

If requests are still open and you're still interested, I have this request in mind that I'd love to see your writing about it: 「yandere hashira (like all 9) with a female s/o who has complete heterochromia but she covered one of her eyes with an eyepatch so they didn't know. She was insecure and lacked self-esteem as the covered eye was made fun of because it looked slightly inhuman. And she was called a demon many times because of that. How would the hashira react to seeing her real eyes for the first time?」

Whether her odd eye colors are congenital or a result of a strange illness/curse is totally up to you. Take your time and have a nice day!

Here’s your request and I hope you like it! I appreciate you nice words and compliments as it makes me happy :)

Giyu Tomioka (Water Hashira)

Giyu’s reserved and stoic nature makes him someone who doesn’t express emotions easily, but his love for you runs deep, and his yandere tendencies make him extremely protective and possessive. When he first sees your uncovered heterochromatic eye, he’s struck by its unique beauty—but his heart also aches at the thought of the pain and insecurity that led you to hide it.

• Reaction: The moment you remove your eyepatch, Giyu’s expression freezes, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. He doesn’t speak at first, his gaze lingering on your uncovered eye as if committing every detail to memory. His silence makes you anxious, and you instinctively reach for the eyepatch again, but before you can put it back, his hand gently stops yours. “Don’t,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. There’s no anger in his tone—only an almost palpable sadness.

“Why did you hide this from me?” he asks, his voice laced with both confusion and hurt. When you hesitantly explain that you’ve been called a demon and mocked for your appearance, his expression hardens. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white. “Who?” he demands, his voice now cold and sharp. “Who dared to say that to you?”

• Behavior: Giyu’s obsession manifests in a quiet but relentless determination to protect you from any further harm. He would go out of his way to track down anyone who insulted you in the past, ensuring they face consequences—whether through subtle intimidation or direct confrontation. He doesn’t believe in needless cruelty, but for you, he’ll make an exception.

At the same time, Giyu becomes increasingly possessive of your time and attention. He frequently reassures you, though his words are often blunt and understated. “Your eyes are perfect,” he says one evening as you sit together, his gaze unwavering. “You don’t need to hide them. Not from me. Not from anyone.” His protectiveness might border on suffocating at times, as he insists on accompanying you wherever you go, silently ensuring that no one else gets the chance to hurt you.

If you ever try to wear the eyepatch again, Giyu’s reaction is immediate. He’ll gently but firmly remove it, his hand lingering on your cheek. “Don’t cover yourself up,” he says, his voice low and filled with an almost desperate intensity. “I want to see all of you. Always.”

In his quieter moments, Giyu finds himself staring at your uncovered eye, marveling at its uniqueness and silently vowing to cherish every part of you. His obsession becomes all-consuming, but his love is genuine, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel secure and loved in his presence.

Kyojuro Rengoku (Flame Hashira)

Kyojuro’s boundless enthusiasm and passion for life make him an incredibly devoted partner. When he discovers your uncovered eye, his reaction is immediate and intense, as he’s struck by both its beauty and the pain you must have endured. His yandere tendencies only amplify his desire to protect and cherish you.

• Reaction: The moment you remove the eyepatch, Kyojuro’s eyes widen, and his trademark exuberant smile spreads across his face. “ASTOUNDING!” he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine awe. He steps closer to you, gently cradling your face in his hands as he leans in to get a better look. “Your eyes are truly extraordinary! Like twin flames, each burning with its own unique brilliance!”

As you hesitantly explain why you’ve been hiding your eye, Kyojuro’s expression shifts. His smile softens, but his eyes burn with a fierce intensity. “What? People insulted you? Called you a demon?” His voice rises, his usual warmth giving way to a rare flash of anger. “How dare they? They had no right to speak to you that way! Tell me their names, and I will make sure they never trouble you again!”

• Behavior: Kyojuro’s love for you becomes even more all-encompassing. He makes it his mission to shower you with affection and reassurance, constantly reminding you of your worth. “You are one of a kind,” he says one morning, his voice filled with conviction. “No one else in this world could ever compare to you.”

His yandere tendencies drive him to seek out those who hurt you in the past, and though he usually avoids violence outside of combat, he’ll make an exception if it means defending your honor. He’ll confront them head-on, his booming voice making it clear that they are never to come near you again. “If you value your life, you will apologize for your cruel words and leave them alone!”

Kyojuro also becomes more protective, often insisting on accompanying you wherever you go. His presence is both comforting and overwhelming, as he constantly hovers nearby, ready to step in at the slightest sign of trouble. Despite his intensity, his love is deeply genuine, and he’ll do everything in his power to make you feel cherished.

If you ever try to wear the eyepatch again, Kyojuro is quick to stop you, gently pulling your hand away. “There’s no need for that,” he says, his tone firm but kind. “Your eyes are a gift, and the world deserves to see them. But more importantly, I want to see them. Always.”

In quieter moments, Kyojuro often gazes into your eyes with a look of pure adoration, his golden and red hues reflecting the fire of his love. “You are my flame,” he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. “And I will never let anyone dim your light.”

Shinobu Kocho (Insect Hashira)

Shinobu’s gentle demeanor often hides her sharp intellect and darker thoughts, especially when it comes to you. As someone deeply protective and borderline obsessive, discovering your uncovered eye only intensifies her feelings.

• Reaction: When you finally work up the courage to show her your uncovered eye, Shinobu’s immediate reaction is a soft gasp, her lilac eyes widening ever so slightly. She steps closer, her head tilting as she examines your heterochromatic gaze. “Oh my,” she says, her voice dripping with sweetness. “What a lovely surprise. Why didn’t you show me this sooner?” Her smile is soft, but there’s an unmistakable glint of something sharper in her expression—a mix of fascination and possessiveness.

When you hesitantly explain why you kept it hidden, her smile falters for just a moment, replaced by a subtle tension in her jaw. “I see,” she murmurs, her voice unnervingly calm. “People called you a demon? Mocked you for something so beautiful?” Her tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent of steel. “How cruel. Don’t worry, dear. I’ll make sure they never trouble you again.”

• Behavior: Shinobu’s obsession with you deepens significantly after this revelation. She becomes relentless in her pursuit of those who insulted you in the past, though her actions are always calculated and subtle. Those who mocked you might suddenly find themselves facing mysterious accidents, debilitating illnesses, or even vanishing without a trace. Shinobu doesn’t like to get her hands dirty directly, but for you, she’ll make an exception.

Around you, she’s nothing but sweet and encouraging. She constantly reassures you of your beauty, her words like honey. “Your eyes are unique, just like you,” she says one evening, resting her chin on her hand as she gazes at you. “I’ve never seen anything so captivating. Why would you ever want to hide them?”

If you try to wear the eyepatch again, Shinobu is quick to intervene. She gently but firmly removes it, her fingers brushing against your face as she tucks the patch away. “Now, now, don’t be silly,” she says with a teasing smile. “You don’t need to hide from me. You’re perfect just the way you are.” Her voice is lighthearted, but there’s a quiet intensity in her gaze that makes it clear she won’t let you cover yourself up again.

Over time, Shinobu becomes even more possessive. She insists on spending as much time with you as possible, often finding excuses to keep you close. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, her sweet smile hides a darker promise. “Don’t worry, dear,” she whispers one evening as you sit together under the stars. “I’ll take care of everything. You’ll never have to feel insecure again.”

Mitsuri Kanroji (Love Hashira)

Mitsuri’s overflowing love and devotion make her a deeply caring and emotional partner. When she sees your uncovered eye for the first time, she’s overcome with admiration—and heartbreak at the thought of the pain you’ve endured.

• Reaction: The moment you remove your eyepatch, Mitsuri’s reaction is instant and dramatic. Her green and pink eyes widen, and she clasps her hands together, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Oh my goodness! You’re so beautiful!” she exclaims, her voice filled with pure adoration. She rushes forward, gently cupping your face in her hands as tears well up in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide this? It’s amazing!”

When you explain your insecurities and the cruel comments you’ve endured, Mitsuri’s expression crumples, and tears spill down her cheeks. “That’s so awful,” she says, her voice breaking. “How could anyone say something so mean? You’re not a demon! You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met!” Her sadness quickly shifts to determination as she grabs your hands, her grip surprisingly strong. “I’ll protect you from now on! I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again!”

• Behavior: Mitsuri becomes even more affectionate and protective, her yandere tendencies fueled by her overwhelming love for you. She constantly praises you, her words spilling out in a rush of emotion. “Your eyes are so unique,” she says one evening, her voice soft but insistent. “They’re like a treasure—something rare and precious. You’re rare and precious. I love everything about you!”

Her obsession with you drives her to confront anyone who has ever hurt you, though her approach is far less subtle than some of the other Hashira. If she knows someone who insulted you, she’ll march up to them and demand they apologize, her usually sweet demeanor replaced by a fierce protectiveness. “How dare you say something so cruel to them?” she’ll shout, tears in her eyes. “You don’t know how wonderful they are!”

Mitsuri also becomes more physically clingy, always wanting to hold your hand, hug you, or simply be near you. If you try to wear the eyepatch again, her reaction is immediate. She’ll gently but firmly remove it, holding it out of your reach as she pouts. “No, no, no,” she says, her voice filled with emotion. “You don’t need this. You’re perfect just the way you are! Please don’t hide from me.”

Over time, Mitsuri’s devotion becomes all-encompassing. She constantly looks for ways to make you happy, whether it’s cooking your favorite meals, showering you with compliments, or simply spending time with you. “I love you more than anything,” she says one night as she gazes into your eyes, her voice trembling with sincerity. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

Sanemi Shinazugawa (Wind Hashira)

Sanemi’s brash and aggressive exterior often hides a fiercely protective nature, especially when it comes to the one person he loves most. When he sees your uncovered eye, it stirs a maelstrom of emotions—admiration, fury at those who hurt you, and an intense need to shield you from further pain.

• Reaction: The moment you remove your eyepatch, Sanemi freezes. His sharp, stormy eyes lock onto yours, widening slightly in shock. For a moment, he says nothing, his jaw clenched as he processes what he’s seeing. Finally, he exhales sharply, his voice rough but quieter than usual. “What the hell…?”

He steps closer, his hand twitching as if he wants to reach out but doesn’t quite know how. “Why were you hiding this?” he demands, his tone gruff but not angry—more like he’s trying to mask the tenderness threatening to spill out. When you explain how people mocked you, calling you a demon, his expression darkens instantly. “Those bastards…” His voice is a low growl now, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Tell me who they are. I’ll make sure they regret ever opening their mouths.”

• Behavior: Sanemi’s yandere tendencies kick into overdrive after this revelation. His protectiveness becomes almost suffocating, as he refuses to let anyone else have the chance to hurt you. He starts accompanying you everywhere, even if it means abandoning his usual duties. “You’re not going anywhere without me,” he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m not letting those idiots get near you again.”

Though his words and actions might seem harsh, his love for you is deeply genuine. He’ll make it his mission to rebuild your self-esteem, even if he’s not always the most eloquent about it. “You’re an idiot if you think you’re not beautiful,” he says one day, his voice tinged with frustration. “Your eyes are… they’re incredible, okay? Anyone who says otherwise is blind or stupid—or both.” He looks away, his cheeks faintly flushed, but his sincerity is unmistakable.

If you try to wear the eyepatch again, Sanemi’s reaction is immediate and intense. He’ll grab it out of your hand and toss it aside, his sharp gaze boring into yours. “Stop hiding,” he snaps, though there’s a softness in his voice that betrays his concern. “You don’t need that crap. Not with me.”

Over time, Sanemi becomes increasingly possessive, viewing your uniqueness as something only he is allowed to admire. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, they’ll find themselves on the receiving end of his wrath. “You’re mine,” he says one night, his voice low and intense as he pulls you close. “No one else gets to make you feel like this. No one else even deserves to look at you.”

Tengen Uzui (Sound Hashira)

Tengen’s love for all things extravagant and unique means your heterochromia utterly captivates him. When he sees your uncovered eye, his yandere tendencies manifest in his overwhelming need to show you off, protect you, and ensure no one ever disrespects you again.

• Reaction: The moment you reveal your uncovered eye, Tengen’s reaction is as dramatic as you’d expect. His ruby eyes light up, and he claps his hands together, a broad grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, well! What’s this?!” he exclaims, leaning in close to examine your eye. “You’ve been hiding something so flamboyant from me? I’m almost offended!” His tone is playful, but there’s an undercurrent of genuine admiration in his voice.

As you explain your insecurities and the cruel comments you’ve endured, Tengen’s smile falters, replaced by a rare seriousness. “People called you a demon?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous. “What kind of tasteless idiots would insult someone as magnificent as you?” He crosses his arms, his expression darkening. “Point me in their direction. I’ll make sure they understand just how pathetic they are compared to you.”

• Behavior: Tengen becomes obsessed with showcasing your beauty to the world, but in a way that ensures everyone knows you belong to him. He’ll insist on dressing you in extravagant outfits and showering you with compliments. “You’re the flashiest person I’ve ever seen,” he declares one day, twirling you around to admire you from every angle. “No one else even comes close. They should be jealous!”

At the same time, his protectiveness intensifies. He won’t hesitate to confront—or eliminate—anyone who dares to insult you again. His flamboyant nature means he doesn’t bother hiding his actions; if someone mocks you, they’ll find themselves publicly humiliated in a way only Tengen can manage. “No one messes with my partner,” he says with a smirk, cracking his knuckles. “Not unless they want to face the consequences.”

If you ever try to wear the eyepatch again, Tengen’s reaction is swift and dramatic. He’ll snatch it away, holding it high out of your reach as he gives you a disapproving look. “Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “You’re too flashy to be covering yourself up like that. I won’t allow it.” He’ll then gently take your face in his hands, his gaze softening. “You don’t need to hide anything from me. You’re perfect exactly the way you are.”

Over time, Tengen’s obsession with you grows. He constantly showers you with affection, gifts, and attention, doing everything in his power to make you feel like the most important person in the world. “You’re mine,” he says one night as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, his tone possessive but filled with warmth. “And I’m going to make sure everyone else knows it, too.”

Obanai Iguro (Serpent Hashira)

Obanai is an intensely guarded and obsessive person, especially when it comes to someone he cherishes. His feelings for you are deeply rooted in devotion and a desire to protect you from everything—even yourself. When he sees your uncovered eye, his reaction is one of quiet intensity.

• Reaction: The moment you remove the eyepatch, Obanai freezes, his mismatched eyes widening slightly. Kaburamaru, his snake companion, shifts curiously on his shoulders as Obanai leans in closer to examine your uncovered eye. He doesn’t speak immediately, his silence stretching long enough to make you anxious. When you finally explain your insecurities and the bullying you’ve endured, Obanai’s expression hardens—not in judgment of you, but in barely contained anger toward those who hurt you.

“They called you a demon?” he asks, his voice low and laced with venom. His mismatched eyes gleam dangerously as Kaburamaru hisses in unison. “Those fools wouldn’t know true beauty if it stared them in the face. You’re nothing like a demon.”

• Behavior: Obanai’s yandere tendencies intensify after this revelation. He becomes even more possessive and protective, insisting on keeping a close eye on you at all times. He constantly reassures you, though his words are often tinged with a slightly obsessive undertone. “Your eyes are perfect,” he says one evening, his voice soft but firm. “Both of them. Don’t ever hide from me again. I won’t allow it.”

If you try to wear the eyepatch again, Obanai reacts with quiet but unyielding determination. He’ll gently take it from you, his fingers lingering on yours as he holds it tightly. “No,” he says simply, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re not putting this on again. Not when you’re with me.”

Obanai takes it upon himself to ensure no one ever mocks you again. His methods are often quiet but ruthless—those who insulted you in the past might find themselves mysteriously stalked, their lives suddenly plagued by misfortune. He doesn’t need to confront them directly; his silent presence and intimidating aura are enough to send a clear message.

Over time, Obanai’s obsession grows. He becomes increasingly possessive, viewing your uniqueness as something only he is allowed to appreciate. He often gazes into your eyes with an almost reverent intensity, his voice soft as he murmurs, “You’re mine. Every part of you. No one else deserves to even look at you.”

Gyomei Himejima (Stone Hashira)

Gyomei’s kind and compassionate nature makes him an incredibly supportive and nurturing partner. When he discovers your uncovered eye, his reaction is one of deep empathy and overwhelming love, tinged with an intense protectiveness.

• Reaction: When you finally gather the courage to remove your eyepatch, Gyomei doesn’t react immediately. His blind eyes, wet with perpetual tears, remain calm, but he instinctively reaches out to gently touch your face, his large hands surprisingly delicate. “Your voice is trembling,” he says softly, his tone filled with concern. “Are you afraid to show me?”

As you explain your insecurities and the bullying you’ve endured, Gyomei’s expression grows pained. “I see,” he murmurs, his voice low and sorrowful. “You’ve carried this burden for so long… how cruel of others to mock something so unique and beautiful.” His tears fall silently, his empathy for your pain evident in every word.

• Behavior: Gyomei’s yandere tendencies manifest in a protective, almost paternal way. He becomes utterly devoted to ensuring your happiness and safety, going to great lengths to shield you from harm. “You are precious to me,” he says one evening, his deep voice resonating with emotion. “Your eyes, your heart, your soul—everything about you is a gift. No one has the right to make you feel otherwise.”

If you try to wear the eyepatch again, Gyomei gently but firmly stops you, his large hand covering yours as he takes it away. “Please don’t hide yourself,” he says, his tone filled with quiet determination. “You are perfect as you are. You don’t need to conceal any part of yourself from me—or the world.”

Gyomei’s protectiveness can border on obsessive at times. Though his demeanor remains calm and composed, he keeps a mental list of those who have wronged you. If he ever encounters someone who mocked or hurt you, his imposing presence and quiet authority are enough to make them regret their actions. “Do not speak ill of them again,” he says, his voice a low rumble that leaves no room for argument.

Despite his intense protectiveness, Gyomei is always gentle with you. He constantly reassures you of your worth, his words filled with love and sincerity. “You are my light,” he says one evening as you sit together, his hands carefully cradling yours. “Your uniqueness is something to be celebrated, not hidden. I will spend every moment of my life proving that to you.”

Over time, Gyomei’s devotion becomes all-encompassing. He views it as his sacred duty to protect and cherish you, often meditating on ways to bring you peace and happiness. His love for you is unwavering, and he’ll do whatever it takes to ensure you never feel insecure again.

Muichiro Tokito (Mist Hashira)

Muichiro’s aloof demeanor often makes it difficult to discern his thoughts, but beneath his seemingly detached exterior lies a profound intensity when it comes to the person he loves. When he sees your uncovered eye, his reaction is quiet but deeply impactful.

• Reaction: When you finally remove your eyepatch, Muichiro’s teal eyes flicker with momentary surprise, though his expression remains calm. He tilts his head slightly, studying your face with a quiet intensity that makes your heart race. For a moment, he says nothing, his gaze fixed on your uncovered eye as if trying to commit every detail to memory.

“Your eye…” he murmurs, his soft voice trailing off as he leans in closer. “It’s… unique. Beautiful.” His tone is matter-of-fact, but there’s an unmistakable sincerity in his words. When you hesitantly explain why you’ve been hiding it—your insecurities, the cruel comments from others—Muichiro’s gaze hardens, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“They called you a demon?” he says quietly, his voice laced with a subtle edge. “That’s foolish. They’re the ones who are blind—not you.”

• Behavior: After this revelation, Muichiro’s yandere tendencies manifest in a quiet but relentless protectiveness. Though he doesn’t express his feelings outwardly as dramatically as others might, his actions speak volumes. He begins to watch you more closely, his presence constant and unwavering. “I’ll stay by your side,” he says simply one evening, his tone calm but resolute. “No one will hurt you again.”

Muichiro becomes deeply possessive, though in a subtle way. He insists on accompanying you wherever you go, his soft-spoken demeanor hiding the fierce determination burning within him. If anyone dares to look at you the wrong way or make an unkind comment, they’ll find themselves on the receiving end of his cold, piercing gaze—a silent warning that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

If you attempt to wear the eyepatch again, Muichiro’s reaction is gentle but firm. He’ll quietly take it from you, his fingers brushing against yours as he tucks it away. “You don’t need this,” he says softly, his gaze meeting yours. “Your eyes are perfect. You don’t have to hide them from me—or anyone.”

Despite his calm exterior, Muichiro is deeply affected by your pain. He often finds himself lost in thought, replaying your words in his mind and quietly seething at the cruelty you endured. Though he rarely shows anger openly, those who hurt you in the past might find themselves facing inexplicable accidents or misfortunes. Muichiro is not one to forgive easily, and his quiet vengeance is both calculated and absolute.

Over time, Muichiro becomes even more devoted to you, his love manifesting in quiet, tender gestures. He’ll often gaze at you when he thinks you’re not looking, his expression soft and contemplative. “Your eyes remind me of the sky,” he says one day, his voice barely above a whisper. “Endless… and full of wonder. I could look at them forever.”

Though his words are few, his actions speak volumes. Muichiro’s love for you is unwavering, and his protectiveness knows no bounds. “You’re mine,” he says one evening, his voice soft but filled with quiet intensity. “And I won’t let anyone make you feel less than what you are ever again.”

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Ohmygosh

Little sister Donna and big sis Alcina is a family dynamic I didn't know I needed before reading your stories.

Could I maybe ask for a story about Donna asking Alcina for advice on how to woo reader? I can just imagine nervous wreck Donna calling her sister when she realises she got a crush.

And thank you for your stories :)

Yesss!!!!! Don't thank me, I'm the one who has to thank you for reading them!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!!

A little help from my sister

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Some angst, fluff, Donna's POV, Donna being Donna

Word count: 7,892

Summary: I can't tell her... I need someone to help me...

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

Mother Miranda's words echoed in the four walls of the church. Always the same prayers, always the same phrases.

I sat next to my siblings, I don't even remember if I ever occupied another seat, if I was ever in the place of the villagers. New faces, different faces, children who grew up, old people who never returned... A bitter cycle of life and death, a cycle that I was condemned to endure, forever.

Donna Beneviento, Lord, doll maker, that was me. I wondered if I was ever something else, something more than a dark shadow next to some monsters, or, on the contrary, if I was just one more of them.

My appearance confirmed my fears. My face stopped being that of a woman, a human being. It had been too long, I had already gotten used to the veil that covered it, and also, to the loneliness.

Yes, I had Angie, my dolls, but, it was not enough to make me not realize that I lived in a house too big for me. Like everything else, it soon stopped mattering to me.

Torturing, killing, reading, working, sleeping, what a routine. Too many years had passed for me to regret the sentence that Mother Miranda cast upon me that night, the night I stopped being a person, to become a monster.

My only eye wandered around the church, to those faithful faces, devoted to the Black Gods. I liked to play at seeing who would return, and who would not. I suppose that is what a monster does, study its victims.

But, for some time now, one of those faces had caught my attention: a village girl, hidden in a bunch of stupid people a young, beautiful girl, one who always came back, one who decided to behave and not try to escape from that place.

Every week I looked at her, every week I got lost in her dress, in her gaze… It was like an addiction, an addiction that always made me thankful for existing, for having lived long enough to see her grow, to be lucky enough to see her beauty. I knew they were stupid fantasies but… Well, at least I had a reason to leave my safe place, to leave my house.

“Donna, dear,” a soft voice distracted me from my feat, from the weekly vision of her body, her face, one that was increasingly sad, increasingly beautiful.

My sister Alcina was always there to remind me that girl was unreachable. She was an angel, I was a monster.

“What are you looking at?” the lady of the castle asked, positioning her eyes in the same direction as mine. I shook my head, said nothing, did nothing, as always. “Am I missing something interesting?”

“No,” I whispered hoarsely, in a voice I didn’t usually use. I couldn’t make Angie speak for me, it would draw too much attention and, although it didn’t seem like it, Miranda kept talking.

“Mm,” Alcina murmured, squinting, searching hard for the reason for my distraction. Luckily, she didn’t get to do it.

“We wait for the light of dawn…” they all said at the same time, all except us, of course. “In life, and in death, we give glory, Mother Miranda.”

“May the Black Gods have mercy on your soul,” the priestess said, stretching out her arms. I know she enjoyed it, I know she enjoyed making the villagers just be a stupid flock of sheep.

“Let the lycans devour our flesh,” the villagers repeated, finally getting up from the pews.

At least that torture was over.

“What do we do now, Donna?” Angie asked, leaving the church in my arms, containing that euphoria that always accompanied her.

“Let’s go home,” I whispered discreetly, my gaze fixed on those villagers, searching for something, searching for her gaze.

“Home? How boring,” the doll protested, crossing her arms. I shook my head, with an amused smile.

“I have a lot of things to do,” I whispered again, walking away from the crowd, disappearing like a shadow, like the shadow they said I was, the shadow of a monster.

“How are you going to do it, silly Donna? We don’t have any fabrics, remember?” the doll said, pointing at me with her finger.

I sighed, realizing that she was right, that my time in the village was going to be prolonged. I hate the village, I hate the villagers. I hate people.

“Okay…” I murmured, looking around for the Duke's carriage. “I'll talk to the Duke and then we'll go.”

“Yes, yes, Duke, Duke!” Angie said, excited, as always.

At least it would only be a moment, at least all the villagers seemed to have better things to do than wander around the village…

“It has to be a joke,” an unknown voice reached my ears as I approached the carriage. It was a sweet voice, but somewhat nervous.

“I never joke, (Y/N), and even less so when we talk about money…” the merchant said.

I stood on the ground. It was her, it was that beautiful girl from the church, she was there, alone.

“What are you doing?” Angie asked, seeing that I was unable to move. I had never had her so close, I was never able to see her beauty so close to me. “Come on, Donna, move…”

“Oh, certo…” I sighed, walking again.

The girl seemed nervous, that calm look she always entertained me with seemed disturbed. I approached slowly, trying to make my presence go unnoticed.

“1000 lei for a medicine?” the young woman asked, showing the merchant what looked like a bottle of pills.

I pretended not to hear, I hid in the shadows of the carriage, looking, touching the fabrics I needed. Surely the Duke had already noticed my presence, but, as always, he ignored it. It was the best for him, and he knew it.

“Medicines are scarce resources, (Y/N). They are not easy to get,” the man said, shaking his head, looking at me out of the corner of his eye, with a shy gesture of greeting. I returned it, touching those fabrics, trying to concentrate on my task, and not on those bright eyes.

“I don't have that money,” the girl said, (Y/N), apparently, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.

“Oh, but didn't you have a vegetable store?” the Duke asked, counting coins mockingly.

“Of course I have, but we can't do anything if my father’s sick,” the girl said, crossing her arms. “Please, he is, he is very... The, the fever is consuming him.”

“It's a pity, (Y/N)…” the merchant sighed.

“Please, Duke, he, he's dying…” she said, clasping her hands together, her eyes shining from the moisture of the tears that were beginning to form in them. It was a sight that stopped my heart, but which I pretended not to pay attention to.

“I'm sorry, dear, but I don't do favors… It's 1000 lei,” the fat man sighed, shaking his head.

“Do you have no feelings?” she asked, clenching her fists on either side of her hips.

“In this job, (Y/N), you better don’t have them…” the Duke sighed, disinterestedly.

“Ugh…” she growled, kicking the snow. “Damn it.”

“Do you want anything else?” the merchant asked. “I have more customers to attend to.”

“Fuck you!” the girl yelled angrily, making me shift in place, stop caressing the soft fabrics.

“There's no need to be rude, don't you think?” the Duke said, amused, as the girl walked away from him, heading towards me and hitting my shoulder as she passed by.

“Hey, stupid villager! Watch your step!” Angie shouted, pointing at her in a contemptuous manner.

(Y/N) didn't turn around, she continued on her way among sobs and curses.

That incredible beauty was suffering, crying, very far from her usual tender smile, her eyes were red from rage. I didn't know why, but I couldn't stand it.

“Well...” the Duke laughed, amused by her suffering. I growled with rage, approaching him in an unpleasant way. “Lady Beneviento, I beg your pardon for this incident… Are you here for fabrics for your dolls?”

I nodded, following the young woman with my eyes. She seemed so desperate…

“We'll take them all, Duke!” Angie shrieked, with an exaggerated gesture of her arms. He laughed with satisfaction while I, in the most abrupt way possible, threw him a bag of coins.

“Good… Good,” he laughed, satisfied. “I'll come by this afternoon to take them to you… Do you need anything else?”

“Anything else, Donna? Anything else?” Angie said, moving in my arms, starting to get nervous.

I gently shook my head, but my gaze fell on that bottle of pills, on that medicine, on the reason those beautiful eyes were crying. Slowly, I leaned down to pick it up and look at it. It looked like a medicine to lower the fever, she wasn't lying.

“Are you feeling sick, my lady?” the Duke asked, studying my gestures. I shook my head slowly, looking at the place where she had disappeared.

“We're taking this too,” Angie said, with my voice, speaking for me as I showed that vermin the bottle of pills. The Duke frowned, but nodded disinterestedly.

“Of course…” he whispered without paying attention, counting that huge amount of coins that I had thrown at him. Of course, I should have imagined that a Lord would never pay 1,000 lei for something as basic as a medicine.

Moving away from the carriage, I looked for (Y/N) with my eyes, looking for her footprints in the snow and slowly following them.

“What are you doing, Donna?” Angie asked, taking the bottle of pills and examining it comically. “What’s this?”

“There you are…” I whispered when I saw (Y/N) walking slowly towards a cabin, stopping to rub her eyes. The sadness she conveyed shrank my heart. No, she couldn't cry, she shouldn't cry. Her beauty couldn't be destroyed by tears, by helplessness.

Little by little, I approached, reaching out my hand to rest on her shoulder, calling her attention. She turned around and the sadness turned into fear, immediately moving away.

“Lady Beneviento,” she whispered confused, shaking her head, searching behind her for a way to escape. There wasn't one, she was trapped. “I... I don't...”

I didn't say anything. I simply stayed next to her, with a calm pose, unintentionally intimidating her, scaring her.

“Silly villager,” Angie said among mocking laughs. I shook her discreetly to shut her up. No, I didn't want to scare her. I didn't want her to be afraid of me.

“Gods, I…” she sighed scared, kneeling on the ground, pressing her hands together, lowering her head. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry I hit you, I didn't mean to.”

I sighed, hurt by that attitude, by the reality I was unable to see when I looked at her in the church, by knowing that those eyes would never look at me any other way, that they would only see… A monster.

“Please, my, my father is sick, I have, I have to take care of him, please, don't hurt me,” the young woman begged, lowering her head even more. That situation began to overwhelm me. I didn't know why I did what I did. Maybe I should never have done it.

“Taci,” I whispered with my voice, speaking for myself, controlling Angie's movements. She was impatiently waiting for her turn to scare the girl.

“I beg you, have mercy, have…” she murmured trembling with fear, trembling in fear for me.

Not wanting to see that look, to notice those tremors in her body, I just threw her the bottle of pills, one that she picked up confused, blinking repeatedly.

“What…?” she sighed shaking her head.

I had seen enough, I had received the fear of those beautiful eyes, of that beautiful face. I didn't want to stay there, I couldn't do it, I couldn't remember that I will never stop being a Lord, that she would never… Never notice me.

I turned around with a sigh, walking away from her, ignoring her.

“Wait! Wait a minute! Why?” she said nervously, while her voice became more and more camouflaged. “Wait! Wait, please!”

I didn't hear her, I kept walking. I had seen enough, I had to go home.

The days were a terrible, but comfortable routine. After that encounter I couldn't think of anything else. I acted automatically, helping that beautiful young woman, the one who didn't know I already knew, the one who didn't know had been the only image in my mind for a long time.

While I was making my dolls, I thought about her, her scared face, her bright eyes, her pleas... The porcelain I was working with stopped being soft, it stopped relaxing me, I was nervous, and I didn't know why.

“Donna, Donna,” Angie said, distracting me from my tasks, from my thoughts. “What are you doing, silly Donna?”

“Look,” I said with a smile, showing her my new creation, one with those new fabrics I bought from that horrible man, that man who made (Y/N) cry. “Do you like it?”

“Ohh...” the doll sighed, taking the object carefully, nodding effusively. “It's cool.”

“Cool?” I asked, amused, shaking my head and picking up the doll from her hands, arranging its new hair. “I guess so.”

“It looks like the idiot from the other day,” Angie commented, making my hands shake. Same hair, same eye color, same dress. I frowned, sighing, leaving that new doll carefully on the table.

“Maybe it does,” I commented, feigning disinterest.

“She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Donna?” Angie hummed, climbing onto my lap and nudging me. I shook my head, unable to stop my cheeks from blushing.

“Yes, she is,” I whispered, in a sad, bitter tone, acknowledging for the first time that maybe, just maybe, I was starting to have feelings for her. It was crazy, it was impossible but… Well, I was crazy.

“You like her,” she mocked in a shrill tone.

“What if I like her?” I asked ironically, with a serious look, taking out my frustration on my only friend. “It doesn't matter.”

“She might like you…” Angie whispered amused. It could be a joke, an attempt by the doll to cheer me up, but I didn't see it that way. Angry, I hit the table with my closed fist, breathing with difficulty.

“Don't… Say… Nonsense,” I hissed, glaring at the doll, who immediately got off my body. “It's impossible.”

Admitting reality was important, stopping dreaming, stopping thinking about her could be a good solution. She would never notice me, she would only be afraid of me. She would only run away because of my appearance, she would never get close. For her I would always be a monster, there was no solution, there was no other way.

If I didn't forget her, I would be in trouble. My obsession would grow to madness, until... Until maybe my disturbed mind decided to hurt her for hating me. I didn't want to get to that point. I fought with all my might to forget those bright eyes.

I couldn't do it.

The following week came without me realizing it. I was so lost in her gaze that time passed like a sigh. Everything reminded me of her, my hands could only paint her face on my dolls. I could only give them the color of her eyes. I was losing my mind. I was losing it for her. Every night I counted the hours left to see her again, to watch her from afar again.

It would be the closest I could be to her, and I knew it, I always knew it.

There she was, in the third row. Her eyes no longer betrayed sadness, that tender smile had returned to her face. But something else happened, something that caught me off guard. Her head turned, her eyes rested on mine, she was looking at me.

Her smile crossed me. It grew bigger when it made contact with my dark figure.

I, shy, embarrassed, looked away, I couldn't keep it, I couldn't stand that light, that smile, those eyes that stared into mine, that seemed to even pierce my black veil.

“Anything interesting over there?” a velvety voice pulled me out of that timid exchange of glances. Alcina, as always, seemed more attentive to my movements than to Miranda's speech. Well, I couldn't blame her for that.

“No,” I answered, as usual.

“No? Well, I think there was a little bird that kept an eye on you, dear...” Lady Dimitrescu whispered, laughing softly, looking at the same place, where your gaze lowered, surely intimidated by my sister's dangerous eyes.

“It's the fool that Donna likes,” Angie said, climbing the lady up to her ear. I got very nervous, but I didn't want to draw attention. Miranda's grey eyes had already fixed on our movements.

“Really?” Alcina said, laughing softly, arching her eyebrows. “How interesting...”

“Angie, basta,” I reprimanded the puppet, taking her down from my sister.

“Is everything okay?” Miranda asked, with an annoyed tone.

I nodded nervously, controlling the doll's protests. Miranda sighed, spreading her wings to end the speech, mobilizing the villagers, making (Y/N)'s gaze get lost among the people.

Not wanting to find her, wanting to wait for everyone to leave, I stayed seated. Unfortunately, Alcina stayed with me.

“You should come to the castle for tea, Donna, I think we have a lot of things to talk about,” the lady in white said, finally standing up, when it seemed that all the people had left.

I shook my head, doing the same, ignoring her proposal.

“There is nothing to talk about,” the doll whispered, speaking for me. I was too nervous to do so, nothing strange.

“Oh… I think… There is…” Alcina sighed, placing a hand on my shoulder, pointing to a figure that remained standing near the pile of offerings to the Gods, (Y/N). “I think someone is waiting for you.”

I froze, watching as those beautiful eyes looked back at mine, as her shy gaze rested on me, only on me.

“I have things to do,” I whispered indifferently, trying to turn my body to face the door, something that I couldn’t do. Alcina's huge hands settled on my shoulders, pushing me closer to her, too close.

“See you, dear,” my sister whispered, amused, bending down to cross the door, to leave me alone with her.

When the vampire walked away, (Y/N)’s body turned towards me, her hands playing clumsily with each other, her lips were pressed together, and her head remained looking at the floor. I stood still, wanting to get out of there, but at the same time wanting to stay, to enjoy her beauty a little longer, just a little longer.

“My, my lady,” (Y/N) said, with a clumsy whisper, with her nerves making her body tremble. “I, I would like to talk to you.”

“To us? What do you want, silly, silly?” Angie said, with an annoyed tone, scaring her.

“Well, I…” she stammered, playing nervously with her gaze. She didn't know who to look at, who to talk to, me or Angie. I couldn't blame her.

“Talk to her, silly, silly, she doesn't bite, but I do...” Angie said amused, chattering her teeth, making her back off. I, tired of the puppet's irreverent attitude, lowered her to the floor.

“Angie, leave us alone,” I ordered her in an almost imperceptible whisper. The doll looked at me and then at her shrugging her shoulders and moving away.

“My, my lady, I... I wanted...” the girl said, coming a little closer to me, not daring to look at me. I could still feel her fear, the subtle trembling of her body. “I wanted to thank you.”

Her voice was beautiful. It penetrated my ears like soothing music. I nodded slowly, clasping my hands in front of my body, feigning a stoic pose, the pose that was expected of me.

“My, my father is much better thanks to the medicine and… It, it wouldn't have been possible if… If you didn't…” she stammered, running one hand through her hair, searching with the other for something in her pocket. “I'm not going to ask your reasons but… Still, I still thank you, really.”

“It doesn't matter,” the words came out of my lips, I didn't have to make any effort, I had to seem stronger than her, braver even if I wasn't, even if her beauty intimidated me much more than the Black Gods.

“Yes, Well… I…” she said, with a nervous smile, unable to meet my gaze. “The, the Lords don't usually help poor villagers like us… It's… It's a gratifying surprise and…”

I relaxed my shoulders. No matter what she said, she still feared me. I could see it in her eyes.

“I'm sure you've heard terrible things about me,” I said without thinking, letting out a feeling of frustration for not being able to hear her speak clearly, for hearing her beautiful voice without fear on it, in her words.

“Well... I have,” she admitted, looking away again. “I, I guess they're wrong.”

The smile returned to her face, her gaze lit up again, as did mine. She couldn't see me, she couldn't see the blush on my cheeks. She couldn't see my errant eye not knowing where to look.

“I just felt sorry for you, that's all,” I said with a calm voice, but angry at the same time. I never knew how to act, how to deal with people, how to behave in front of her beautiful presence, in front of those bright eyes.

“Pity is something you can’t see usually in a place like this,” she murmured, shaking her head, saddening her expression and taking something out of her pocket. “I... I wanted, I wanted to give you this.”

(Y/N) extended her hand towards me, a hand in which there was a kind of bracelet made with small bones and decorated with black feathers. I picked it up, touching her soft skin, one I didn't know.

“I wish, I wish I had something else to give you, but, well, I, I made it myself,” she said nervously while I looked at that curious bracelet. I was so focused on her gift that I didn't even notice how close we were.

“Ohhh, a gift...” Angie murmured, appearing out of nowhere, startling the girl, who relaxed instantly nodding with a sincere smile.

“It's, it's for you... My, my father says it brings good luck and... Well, it's, it's what I wish for you, Lady Beneviento,” she said elegantly, lowering her head again while I played with that bracelet in my hands.

“Just a bracelet? Hey, silly, silly, we saved your father's life,” Angie joked, pointing at her with her finger.

“Angie...” I sighed annoyed, dedicating a fiery look to the doll, who was hidden behind my dress.

“No, She, she's right, my lady,” the girl said, putting a hand on my arm, drawing my attention with the heat of her skin through the fabric of my dress.

(Y/N), realizing her boldness, immediately withdrew it with an apologetic look.

“It's, it's nonsense, and, and it doesn't show the gratitude I feel,” the young woman, shaking her head.

“I don't need your gratitude,” I murmured in a somber, clumsy voice.

“I, I know but... Well, if you want me to do something for you... I, I’ll do anything you want,” (Y/N) offered, with open eyes, staring at me, waiting for an answer that wasn't a dark murmur.

“Ohh,” Angie sighed, coming out of her hiding place. I squeezed the bracelet tightly, nervous. “Anything?”

The girl nodded under the doll's soft laughter. I really wanted to deactivate her.

“Then you have to have tea with us, silly,” Angie said, walking cockily.

“Tea?”

“Angie, basta,” I protested, trying to reach the doll, who laughed amusedly as she ran away from my hands.

“It would be an honor to have tea with you, my lady,” (Y/N) said, making me stop, looking at her slowly, surprised by that answer.

“You…” I whispered distrustfully. “Do you want to come… Come to my house… To… Have tea?”

She nodded with a sincere smile, sighing.

“Yes, my lady, it is the least I can do, my lady,” she answered laughing amused, surely due to my sudden nervous attitude, far from my position as a Lord.

“Is this afternoon okay with you, silly?” Angie asked, standing in front of me.

“Of, of course,” she said, shaking the wooden hand that Angie extended to her.

“Cazzo, Angie, can't you keep quiet?” I said furiously, entering my house again, returning to the safety of my home, to its comforting darkness.

“Donna is swearing…” the doll sang while I got rid of the black veil, thus revealing my flushed face.

“Shut up, you're driving me crazy,” I protested, moving my leg against the floor.

“You should be grateful, silly,” Angie mocked, pointing at me with her finger. “I got you a date with your sweetheart.”

“A date? Don't talk nonsense...”

No, of course it wasn't a date, it was a duty, a deal that (Y/N) and my doll made. Having tea didn't mean anything. There was nothing that told me there was any chance that... Nevermind.

“Sit down,” I ordered the girl when, punctually, she appeared at the estate with a slow, shaky walk. No matter how much she denied it, she was still afraid of me.

The girl obeyed, looking around curiously. I couldn't blame her, but my sick mind saw that attitude as a threat.

“What are you looking at?” I asked, annoyed by her beautiful, indiscreet eyes. She shook her head with a shy smile, a slight blush on her cheek.

“Oh, nothing, I was just... curious,” she replied, settling down on the couch, suffering from my dark presence in front of her. “You have a very... beautiful house, my lady.”

“Sugar?” I offered, ignoring that complacent comment. She nodded, sighing in relief at not having to continue with those false words about the darkness surrounding me.

“Yes, please,” she said, bringing her cup closer to me, letting her skin brush against mine again. It was a too good feeling for me, one I hadn't felt in a long time.

Time passed slowly, in silence. Neither of us was willing to talk. I could feel her discomfort, I could feel it from afar. I could sense the trembling of her hands.

“You're nervous,” I said, moving my veil aside so I could drink some tea, a gesture at which she looked away as a sign of respect. Of course, she didn't want to see me. She couldn't see that I was... A monster.

“I'd be lying if I said I’m not, my lady,” the girl said in a soft voice, playing with her hands on the fabric of the sofa.

“You're afraid of me,” I said again, in a darker tone.

I had to know, I had to hear her voice telling me how much she feared me, I wanted her own words to end this obsession I felt for her.

“I don't know anyone who isn't afraid of a Lord, my lady,” she said in a soft voice, looking away as she sighed.

“But you came to have tea with me,” I said, looking for a way to stop being me, to stop scaring her. There was no way to do it, I was a monster, and she knew it.

“Well, I promised to do it,” (Y/N) said, leaving the cup on the table.

“You could have not come,” I said, crossing my arms, waiting for the moment for her to run away, to flee from me, to make sure she could never feel anything for me.

“I never break my word, my lady,” she whispered, raising her gaze to me, catching me in her eyes again.

“I see,” I sighed, removing that beautiful glow from my face. “(Y/N), right?”

She nodded shyly.

“I'm surprised you remember my name, my lady,” she said amused, more relaxed, smiling again.

“Why are you surprised?” I asked curiously. “It's a beautiful name.”

“Thank you, my lady,” she said shyly, blushing at my clumsy compliment. “Well, I normally doubt that the Lords would care about the lives of some poor villagers.”

I laughed, shaking my head. I wished I wasn't a Lord, I wished she would stop shaking every time she spoke to me.

“But, but, well... I didn't expect one of them to save my father's life either, so...” she murmured, frowning, being very careful with her words.

“Stop it. I've already told you that it's not important,” I protested, nervous, trembling, almost panicking. She had been near me for too long, letting me contemplate her beauty for too long.

“For me, it is,” she said, with a serious tone, with a serene look, stopping shaking. “Seeing some light among so much darkness is... comforting.”

“Light?” I asked with an ironic tone, with an accent that was too marked, revealing my nerves. “Don't talk nonsense. There is no light in this place.”

“I can see light in you,” she murmured, leaving me speechless, giving silence a new opportunity to fall upon us.

It was a different afternoon, too silent, too strange. Silence reigned, only interrupted by your soft words, by your smiles that tried hard to get me to return them. They succeeded, I smiled, too many times, more than I thought I would do in my entire life.

She would never know. She would never be able to see my smile, my tender, studious gaze, my eye that tried hard to retain in my head all the details of her skin. She was perfect. She was sweet, kind, with a big heart. My obsession worsened, now I saw her in dreams, on my dolls. Without living without her, she was with me, always in my mind, in my thoughts.

But those feelings that I refused to have were finally released when she decided, on her own, to come to my house from time to time, to have tea with me without me asking her. It was a miracle, a stroke of luck, something that shouldn't happen. She couldn't want to see me, she shouldn't want to. She was an angel and I was a monster.

As time went by, laughter and kind words replaced the tension, the nerves her presence caused me, the fear that mine caused her. Her comments about her life became more and more frequent. A relaxed pose began to form on her body. She was no longer afraid, she no longer feared me.

(Y/N) said that I was light, that I was different from the rest. I would have liked to believe her words.

“I had a great time, my… Lady,” she said timidly as we walked to the door. Two months of visits and she still called me that… I hated it.

“Donna,” I said, wanting to get that nickname off her lips, not wanting her to keep calling me that. I really hated it.

“Donna,” she repeated, with a shy smile, nodding. “I hope you like the vegetables, Donna,” she said, pointing at the box of vegetables she started to bring me, some that, according to her, were possible thanks to me.

“I'm sure they're delicious,” I commented with a different tone, calmer, pleased by her presence, sad because she was leaving. I didn't want her to leave, that was my biggest torture.

“Do you want to stay a little longer, silly?” Angie asked, peeking out of my dress. I should thank my doll. Angie did everything possible to make her stay with me a little longer, even if it was just a few minutes. “We can play cards.”

“Oh, I'm, I'm sorry but... It's, it's late, I have to go,” (Y/N) said, bending down to be at the doll's level. “We'll play tomorrow.”

I sighed, watching her walk away again, how she disappeared into the fog, how she abandoned me. The promise she would return the next day was no longer enough for me. Her ephemeral presence, her shy smile, her gaze, soon became an addiction that I could no longer bear.

I could do something, I needed to do something, but I couldn't. Every night, like that one, I looked at myself in the mirror, contemplating my deformed face. What would be the point of spending more time with her? Sooner or later she would discover what I am like, my horrible appearance, the face of... Of a monster.

I knew I was deluding myself, I had to stop dreaming of her, of her saying those words I so needed to hear. It wasn't possible, it would never be possible.

“Cazzo!” I screamed furiously, hitting my reflection, breaking the cruel mirror into a thousand pieces, furious, losing control again, the control of not being able to... Love her.

“Porca miseria! Ti odio!” I shouted, taking out my frustration on the vanity table, letting the crystals fall to the floor, sparkling, camouflaging themselves with my tears.

I hated myself, I couldn't stand myself. I couldn't stand seeing my ruined face, one you could never fall in love with.

“Donna, Donna!”

Angie, as always, came to my aid.

“Sono... Sono un mostro...” I sobbed, burying my face in my hands, crying inconsolably.

Angie's footsteps broke the glass, climbing my body, hugging me as always when I lost control. I wouldn't have done it without her. I would have probably given up.

“Come on, Donna, don't cry... You're not a monster,” the doll said, patting my back.

“(Y/N) will never feel the same way about me, not with this look...” I sobbed, confessing my own feelings, my love for her, an inevitable, intense love.

“Enough of complaining, silly Donna,” Angie said, sick of my increasingly frequent attacks, attacks that I had when (Y/N) left, always when she left. “Are you stupid?”

“What?” I asked furiously, raising my head. “Angie, I'm not in the mood for nonsense.”

“You're the nonsense, Donna,” she scolded me. “You've been crazy about that girl for months and you haven't done anything, anything!”

“What do you want me to do?” I asked nervously, surprised by the puppet's very different attitude.

“Well, I don't know, something, for example. You can't complain about something you haven't even tried, even I, who am just a doll, know that,” she said, with a cocky pose.

“But, but, Angie…” I stammered, confused, knowing that she was right, that I was a coward. I always was.

“No buts, silly Donna, you have to tell (Y/N) that you love her,” she said, leaving me glued to the chair, stepping on the glass that I broke, seeing my horrible reflection in it.

“No, I can't,” I said, looking away from the glass.

“Fine, then don't complain,” Angie joked, making an unpleasant gesture with her hand.

“What the hell do you want me to do?” I asked, angry, clenching my fists tightly. “Do you expect her to fall in love with me just like that?”

“Tell her, silly Donna, use your charms,” the doll indicated, leaving me pensive, laughing nervously.

“I don't have any of that,” I sighed, passing a hand over my forehead.

“Mm... Maybe you need a little help...” Angie murmured. “Come, Donna, I have an idea, come, come.”

“What, what do you want?” I asked, following the doll's jumps, jumps that took me to the basement phone.

“Alcina, call her,” the doll said, extending the phone towards me. I shook my head.

“Alcina? No, no way,” I said, crossing my arms.

“She knows how to deal with women, not like you. If you stop being so proud and ask her for advice, maybe you'll stop smashing mirrors at night,” the doll said, dialing a number, leaving me alone with the phone.

“Hey, wait,” I said nervously, when the signal started to ring.

“Hello, hello, this is Dimitrescu Castle...” a mocking voice said, to which I rolled my eye. “If you want to order wine, dial one; if you want to be one of our maids, dial two; if you want us to rip out your guts and feed the crows with them for disturbing us at this time of night, please wait...”

“Daniela...” I sighed, recognizing my niece's voice. She was always that sinister. “It's, it's me...”

“Who are you? Apart from a new meal for mother...” the vampire asked. I gritted my teeth and sighed, thinking about whether to hang up or let her talk. Maybe asking my sister for advice wasn't such a bad idea.

“D-Donna,” I stammered without being able to help it. My body was shaking, and so was my voice.

“Oh, Aunt Donna! How nice to hear your voice!” the young Dimitrescu shrieked, making me have to move the phone away from my ear. “How are you?”

“F-Fine,” I stammered again, clearing my throat. “Is, is your mother there?”

“Of course… MOTHER!” she shrieked again.

I sighed, waiting impatiently, not knowing what I was going to say to her, what exactly I wanted.

“Daniela, don't be scandalous…” I heard on the other end of the phone. My nerves were getting worse. “It's Aunt Donna, mother.”

“Oh, Donna, what a late… Surprise…” my sister joked, with a seductive tone, as always. I didn't want to think about what she was doing.

“A, Alcina…” I murmured, scratching the back of my neck, looking for Angie with my eye. She wasn't there, that cowardly doll had left me alone. “I have, I have to talk to you.”

“Mm, at this time of the night? What’s wrong, dear? Have you had a crisis?” the lady in white asked. I nodded.

“Too many,”  I answered briefly.

“I see… Do you want me to send you a maid?” she asked kindly, relaxing the seduction of her usual voice.

“No, no,” I shook my head abruptly, nervously holding the telephone cord. “I want, I want to talk to you… It's… It's something personal.”

“Mm, wow, you've caught my attention,” she said amused, laughing softly. “Tell me, dear.”

“I… I don't really know where to start,” I said, controlling my breathing, which prevented me from speaking clearly.

“It's that girl, right? The girl from the church…” she said, using that ability for people that I was incapable of having.

“Y-Yes,” I said. There was no need to lie.

“You haven't hurt her, have you?” Alcina murmured in a serious tone.

“No, of course I haven’t,” I said, annoyed by that accusation. “I… I… I'm… I'm… in love with her, Alcina,” I confessed, closing my eye, letting out my feelings from my heart, some that I couldn't, that I didn't know how to express.

“How sweet of you, Donna,” my sister joked, laughing, as if she was making fun of me. “What's the problem? According to what I've heard, she spends almost every day at your house.”

“Y-Yes, but… but… I, I don't know if she…” I murmured, fighting my words, which refused to sound as they should. “I, I don't know how…”

“Mm, you don't know if she feels the same,” Alcina finished for me. I nodded again, with my eye wet with tears.

“No, I… I want to, I want to tell her but, I can't,” I sighed, passing a hand over my forehead.

“You're blind, Donna. Let's see, why would a villager like her go to your house every day?” she asked with irony. “That girl is crazy about you, I tell you, I know those looks.”

“I don't think so,” I murmured with a sad voice. “No one, no one could feel anything for me…”

“Oh, Donna, not again,” the lady in white sighed. “Your only problem is that you are such a coward.”

“I told you…” an unexpected Angie whispered in my ear, startling me.

“Angie, I'm talking,” I protested with my hand on the device. “Yes, I am a coward… But, but if she felt something for me, she would have done something about it.”

“You are so naive, my dear…” Alcina mocked, dragging out her words. “Wake up, you are a Lord, she is a villager, do you know what that means?”

“No,” I said in a stern tone, tired of everyone laughing at me.

“It means that she would never believe that someone as powerful as you could notice someone like her, do you understand?”

“No…” I sighed tired, wanting to hang up and break down in tears again.

“Donna, for Gods' sake, react,” Alcina said, with an impatient tone, making me jump. “If you don't do anything, she won't either. Stop being that... stupid.”

“I didn't call you to insult me,” ​​I said with a dark voice, hitting the table with my fingers. “I, I called you to help me. I, l, love her very much and I don't, I don't know what to do.”

“Mm, I guess being direct isn't your thing, huh?” Alcina whispered, with a different voice, but without losing that mocking touch. “Then you'll have to do something... Make her fall in love with you.”

“That's easy for someone like you but... I, I don't... Cazzo, Alcina, it's the first time I feel that way for someone... I'm completely lost,” I said almost desperately.

“I understand,” she said, with a cold tone. “Well, then start with something simple, why don't you invite her to dinner?”

“Dinner?” I asked confused.

“Mm,” the lady murmured. “They say you cook wonderfully, it could be a good point. You know, a delicious meal, some candles, maybe romantic music… If she doesn't notice with that… She's even more stupid than you.”

“It's not funny,” I growled at that mocking tone, but thinking about that idea, one that didn't seem so bad.

“It's not a joke, dear… Listen to your older sister, mm? Invite that village girl to dinner with you, and the rest… Well, I'm sure it will come by itself.”

I thought about that advice, that proposal, a lot. Alcina had hundreds of women at her disposal, but I wasn't Alcina, I was… A monster.

But nothing she said seemed to want to hurt me. I knew she cared about me, she really did. Try or lose (Y/N) forever, what a dilemma.

But luck seemed to be on my side. It was a simple, nervous request, but one that (Y/N) accepted without thinking.

In less time than I would have liked, she was with me, dining by candlelight, enjoying my food, my company, almost as much as I did hers.

“Do you, do you like it?” I asked fearfully, starting a conversation that had not existed until that moment. (Y/N) looked at me and nodded with a smile, taking a sip of her glass of wine.

“It's delicious, Donna,” she said in a soft voice, her features adored by the candlelight, her cheeks flushed by the wine, or by embarrassment.

I laughed shyly, playing with my food, not knowing what to do, or say, as always, that was never going to change.

“I, I used your vegetables,” I said awkwardly, catching her attention again. “They are of excellent quality.”

“Mm, thanks,” she said amused, winking at me. “You know what? You never cease to surprise me,” the girl commented, sighing.

“Why do you say so?” I asked curiously, looking cautiously at the phone off the table.

I didn't particularly like Alcina listening to everything, but at least she was kind enough to offer to lend me a hand, to help me if things weren't going well.

“Well... You save my father's life, you're kind... You cook... Wonderfully... Who are you?” she asked amused, playing with her fork.

“I, I guess I’m Donna,” I said nervously.

“Ahem, ahem,” a distorted clearing of throat sounded in the living room, making me blush. It was Alcina, there was no doubt.

“What was that?” (Y/N) asked, looking at the source of the sound.

“Oh, it was nothing, it was probably Angie,” I said nervously, diverting her attention.

“She can't help it, huh?” the girl joked, with a tender smile. I laughed nervously, shaking my head.

“It's true,” I commented, drinking some wine, accustomed to her looking away when I moved my veil.

Stars shinin' bright above you

Night breezes seem to whisper, "I love you"

Birds singin' in the sycamore tree

Dream a little dream of me

The music interrupted our conversation, a slow, romantic music that I hadn't put on. My doll got off the record player, making me groan nervously.

“Angie, fermate la musica!” I yelled at the doll, who ran away.

“No, no, wait… I like this song,” (Y/N) said, stopping my attempt to go to the player with a soft hand on my wrist. “You don't?”

“I… Um, yes, I do…” I sighed having her so close to me, hearing the soft humming that accompanied the song.

“Do you want to dance, Donna?” she asked, getting even closer, taking my hands by surprise, causing an inevitable tremble in mine. Automatically, without wanting to, I shook my head.

“N-No… I… I don't know how to dance,” I said shyly, letting myself be carried away by the swing of her hand in mine.

“Dance, damn it!” a furious squeal came from the phone, increasing my blush.

“What?” (Y/N) asked, with a confused smile, returning her gaze to mine after a few seconds. “Calm down, I'll show you, come…”

“Okay, okay,” I said nervously, letting (Y/N) drag me to the middle of the room, moving my hand to her perfect waist while she placed hers on my shoulder, starting to move slowly, very slowly.

A slow, clumsy, but intense, comforting dance. Her hand on my waist, our fingers intertwined, was the closest I would ever be to paradise.

“Dream a Little dream of me…” she murmured, when the song ended, with her body still pressed against mine, lowering her hand to gently grab my waist, opening her eyes, looking at me strangely. “You haven't been bad at all, Donna…”

“… I… Thank you…” I stammered, letting myself be carried away by my instincts, also grabbing her waist while her expression changed, raising her hands to my covered face. I acted reflexively by putting my hands on her wrists.

“Stop, (Y/N),” I whispered, trembling, trembling with fear. She couldn't see me, or I would lose her.

“I would like you to take off your veil, Donna, so I can kiss you,” (Y/N) whispered, with a sincere look, leaving me glued to the floor, with my hands shaking on her wrists.

“Kiss me?” I asked distrustfully, letting her hands remove the black fabric from my face under her watchful gaze. “You, you don't…”

“Oh… You're beautiful,” she said, caressing my cheek, my trembling body. I should have gotten angry, I should have screamed, I didn't. “Let me kiss you, please…”

“Please…” I said, approaching her, closing my eye, brushing her lips with mine, melting into the pleasure of my first kiss, of our first kiss.

“I wasn't wrong about you,” she said amused, moving away from that kiss, from that first kiss that left me almost sobbing. “I wasn't wrong to fall in love with you.”

“Ugh, finally!” Alcina shouted as we kissed again, with more enthusiasm, laughing at those voices. I wonder if (Y/N) suspected who was on the other end of the phone.

[sweetchildcloud]

||BEAN|| written by me

Plot: Maki and you had a baby and your wife is getting used to it

Tags-Lesbian love,woman x woman,Maki x fem!reader,lots of cuddles,fluff,motherly love,heartwarming,cute overload,it is intended that Myla grows a bit in the story.

please reblog 🔁 and like❤️

i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes

P.s: my brain is in riot cause of Maki x fem raeder ughhh + you don't know how much it taked to describe th f*cking lion plushie + the intended stuff are the description

@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @ponderingmoonlight @satorkive

-Maki never considered herself a maternal person. She had never spent time around kids or even thought much about them before. When she and her wife decided to get pregnant, she was nervous and scared. But seeing her wife's glowing face as she held their baby for the first time, everything changed. Suddenly, she knew she could love with a fierceness she hadn't known existed. She spent every waking moment devoted to being the best mother she could be, from changing diapers to singing lullabies and reading bedtime stories.-

You were currently sitting on the couch as you held Myla in your arms as she cooed sadly missing Maki presence as you were also recovering from the heavy laboured you endured days ago.

Maki's heart ached at the sound of Myla's cries. She desperately wanted to comfort her baby but she was currently occupied with making dinner and taking care of you,her wife. Guilt gnawed at her, feeling like she wasn't doing enough as a mother and spouse.

"I'm almost done cooking, sweetheart" Maki says to you . "How about we put on some music for the little one while we wait, hmm?" She reaches out and tousles her crying baby's hair gently, hoping to soothe her while she's preoccupied.

Maki noticed how exhausted and drained her wife looked. She went over to you and gently cupped your face in her hands, looking at you with concern. "Darling, are you sure you're alright? You look so tired," she says softly, her voice filled with worry. "You've been working so hard and you're still recovering - let me take care of you while you rest, okay?"

With utmost care, Maki helped you get situated in the bedroom and made sure you was comfortable. "You take it easy tonight" she whispers, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll take care of everything, okay? The baby, dinner, everything."

-While Myla had inherited Maki's brown eyes, her soft, fuzzy hair was a beautiful shade of (your hair color). From her button nose to her chubby cheeks, she was a beautiful baby that Maki and you adored wholeheartedly.-

As Maki held her baby, looking at her and feeling her small form against her own, she couldn't help but feel a swelling in her heart. This little life that she and her wife created together was the most precious thing in the world to her. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the love of her family.

Myla cooed softly, her little fingers grasping Maki's hair. Maki couldn't help but smile at the sight. She nuzzled her nose against her daughter's cheek, whispering quietly "I love you, little one. We created something amazing, you know that?"

🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧💗✨🫧

Maki carried Myla into the kitchen, where her wife was sitting at the table, resting quietly. "Hey, look who I found" she said cheerfully, placing the baby in her wife's arms. "She was missing her mommy." Myla squealed happily at the sight of her mother, reaching out her tiny arms towards her. Maki sat down beside her, smiling at the sight of her little family.

as you were holding Myla she grabbed a fork shooked it,playing with it before dropping it on the ground looking at it "Myla..no bad thats' no good okay?" you said in your baby tone as you picked the fork but Myla dropped the knife instead giggling and you huffed

As Myla continued to play with the utensils, Maki couldn't help but chuckle. "Looks like someone's got a taste for causing trouble" she said with a smile, watching as Myla dropped the knife onto the floor. But even though her antics were causing a mess, Maki couldn't help but find her adorable. "Looks like we've got a little rascal on our hands, eh?"

You looked at Maki with a scowl and when you were about to open your mouth to speak Myla took the glass and played with it and you immediately tried to stop her "Myla no no! give it to me baby"

As Myla reached for the glass, Maki quickly intervened. "No, no, sweetie" she said gently, taking the glass from her tiny hands. "We don't play with glass, okay? It could break and hurt us" She gently redirected Myla towards her toys, handing her a safer and more suitable item to play with instead.

Myla took the squeaky toy and threw it on the floor as it emitted tiny squeaks as it bounced on the pavement "oh she's angry" you said giggling

Maki couldn't help but let out a small chuckle at Myla's antics. "Looks like someone's getting a bit feisty,eh?" she said with a smile. "But we need to teach her that throwing things isn't acceptable behavior. Let's try something else, shall we?" Maki offered Myla a soft plush toy instead, encouraging her to play with it more gently

-The plush was a Lion,called Maxy, formed by a round and soft red body,the limbs were soft ropes that ended with brown legs also soft filled with cotton with circles behind them reminiscent of the pads and the head was larger than the body,the mane was formed by long and short stripes that decorated it from behind while in front there was the lion's face formed by two black and small circles where below there was a soft and prominent muzzle with soft black truffle and with two other two circles at the end on the sides of the face which were the cheeks. Around his neck was a red bandana with the sheriff's coat of arms also decorated with a drawing of a miniature lion on a horse with dark brown lines finally it had a long tail formed by a long stripe that ended with a pompom for the tail-

But Myla cooed angry trowing it on the floor too "Oh no! you hurted your lion Myla" you cited poking her

Maki couldn't help but feel a mix of amusement and mild exasperation at Myla's tantrum. She picked up the toy lion and held it up to her face, speaking in a playful tone. "Ah, what have you done, Myla? You've hurt your poor little Maxy. He's sad because you threw him on the ground." Maki shook the toy lion gently, as if it was protesting.

Myla's eyes widened at the sight of the toy lion being "upset". She reached out for it, her tiny fingers grasping at its soft fur. Maki playfully pulled it back, pretending to scold her. "No, no, no. Remember, we treat our toys with care. Apologize to your lion, baby."

Myla let out a tiny whimper as if she understood what was asked of her. She patted the toy lion gently, cooing softly as if apologies. She looked up at Maki, her eyes wide and innocent, as if asking for approval.

"i think Maxy forgived your action,right Maki?" you said looking at your wife as Myla whimpered trying to reach for her toy

Maki chuckled at the sight of Myla's pleading eyes, her little arms reaching for the toy. "I think you're right" she said with a smile, handing the toy back to Myla. "Looks like Maxy is feeling better now that you apologized. Just remember, we treat our toys gently, just like we treat each other gently, okay?"

"And speaking of Maxy…" Maki held up the lion toy once more, pretending to speak on his behalf. "He's feeling a bit sleepy. Should we put him down for a nap?" She made the toy yawn loudly, making Myla giggle in response. "I think that's a yes" Maki said with a wink, placing the toy in a nearby crib. Maki watched as Myla unsteadily made her way over to Maxy, her tiny feet stumbling and wobbling. She babbled happily as she reached for the toy Lion, her chubby hands grasping at the air. Maki couldn't help but smile at the adorable scene, her heart swelling with affection for her family. "Looks like Myla really loves Maxy" she said softly, gently guiding her baby to sit down next to the toy.

Myla grabbed Maxi before looking at her mum "oh i think she wants you to play with her"

Maki understood immediately what Myla wanted and her heart melted. She knelt down next to her daughter and the toy lion, happily joining in the game. "Alright, Myla, let's see what adventures Maxy has in store for us today" Maki said with a smile, embracing her daughter and the toy. The three of them played together, giggling and laughing as they pretended to go on imaginary journeys.

"Maxy is feeling hungry right now" Maki said in a playful voice, acting as if the toy was speaking. "Should, we feed him?" She looked at Myla, prompting her to respond. Myla's eyes lit up at the suggestion, and she eagerly nodded her head, excited to continue the imaginative playtime. Maki then grabbed a small plush toy that represented some food and pretended to feed Maxy, making exaggerated feeding sounds. Myla followed suit, mimicking her mummy actions and giggling happily.

As they fed Maxy, they continued to create a world of make-believe around them. Maki described a vast jungle where Maxy the Lion lived, and they even incorporated other toys into the game, each one playing a unique role. They danced, sang, and made up stories while Maxy looked on, his plush form serving as the center of their imaginative world.

As the game continued, their laughter echoed throughout the room, filling the air with joy and affection. It was moments like these that made parenthood truly special, where even the simplest activities could become magical experiences shared between parent and child. Maki and her family played with Maxy for hours, lost in their world of make-believe, until finally, it was time for Myla to rest.

"You tired Myla?" you asked kneeling in beetween your wife and her

Myla yawned, her tiny eyelids drooping with exhaustion, signaling that she was indeed ready for a nap. Maki scooped her up gently, cradling her close as she began to hum a gentle lullaby. Together, the two of you sang softly,your voices blending together in a soothing melody that lulled Myla into a peaceful slumber. Maki laid her down in her crib, tucked her in, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"here sweetie" You said placing Maxy near her side "goodnight sweetie"

Myla clutched Maxy tightly as she drifted off to sleep, her little chest rising and falling with each breath. Maki watched as her daughter slept peacefully, her heart overflowing with love and contentment. She reached out and took your hand, squeezing it gently.

"We did good today" Maki said softly, turning to look at you "Our little girl is growing up so fast, and I can't help but feel so proud and grateful for the life we've built together."

The room was quiet and still, filled only with the steady sound of Myla's breathing and the gentle beats of your hearts. In that moment, you found yourselves deeply content, feeling grateful for each other and the beautiful family you had created. Together, you savored the silence, knowing that it wouldn't last long come morning.

"sleepy" You cooed cutely snuggling your face into Maki neck

Maki chuckled softly at your adorable behavior. She reached up and gently combed her fingers through your hair, reveling in the intimacy of the moment. "You're such a snuggle bug" she said affectionately "But I suppose it's time we get some sleep ourselves."

"Uppies" you cooed pouting opening your arms as asking to get carried

Maki couldn't help but melt at your endearing request. She scooped you up in her strong embrace without hesitation, cradling you close against her chest. "I've got you, my love" she whispered, peppering your face with tiny kisses as she carried you to the bed.

As you reached the bed, Maki gently placed you down on the soft mattress, tucking you both in together. She wrapped her arms around you and held you close, your bodies intertwined, finding comfort and warmth in each other's presence. The rhythmic rise and fall of yourr breaths synced as you laid there, drifting off to a peaceful slumber, content and fulfilled in each other's arms

[wisesoultarot]

What do you need to know about this connection?

Instagram | Want to tip me for my work? | For personal reading

Image 1 (Crown):

What do you already know about this connection?

Even though you encounter obstacles in this relationship, you are certain that this is the individual you will marry or the love of your life, and you are prepared to remain steadfast and resilient. You believe you are ready to defend this bond from any harm. Your devotion to this person endures because they are your sanctuary, and they comprehend you in a way no one else does.

What do you need to know about this connection?

It's important to recognize that when communication breaks down, leading to unnecessary conflicts and tension in a relationship, taking a break to reflect on your thoughts and feelings can be beneficial. Afterward, making peace with each other is crucial. This bond, and the person you're with, is considered your destiny, and you are destined to be together. Indeed, this person may be your future spouse. It's essential for both parties to accept each other's differences and embrace who they are, rather than resisting it. A greater understanding towards one another is necessary.

Image 2 (Rose):

What do you already know about this connection?

You understand that this relationship is destined for a better future. It seems the direction of this connection largely hinges on you, and you're aware of it. If you sense a deep connection with this person and they provide a sense of security, you're in it for the long haul, as you are someone who is independent, both financially and emotionally. You don't rely on anyone; all you need is for this person to cherish you, shower you with attention, and praise you. You desire to feel special, knowing your own worth and values. For some, it may be that this person was unfaithful, or they left you for someone else, yet you sense their enduring passion for you and anticipate their return. The longer you wait, the more you learn about them, and you're already experiencing this. You realize that if this connection isn't meant to last, or if this person isn't the one for you, then perhaps someone else is out there waiting for you. With this in mind, you find yourself feeling content, complete, and happy.

What do you need to know about this connection?

This bond will remain strong and overcome any challenges if it is rooted in truth and honesty. Should a person lack sincerity in heart and mind towards another, the bond will inevitably fracture. Regardless of whether this individual remains in your life, you are destined to evolve into a complete, successful being. A time may arise when the weight of this bond becomes too heavy, but it will lead to a firm conviction in love and relationships, and a resolve to commit only when the true sentiments of the other are known. You are poised to attract high-caliber individuals into your life. Soon, you will face a decision: to choose between this person and another who resonates with your elevated vibrations. If one fails to meet your needs, the other will be ready to cherish you completely.

Image 3 (Hand):

What do you already know about this connection?

It appears there is currently a pause in your connection. Perhaps one of you is denying their feelings due to a fear of vulnerability. Both of you may have fears that are preventing you from advancing this relationship. Since you are both concealing deep emotions and aspirations, your interactions may sometimes seem overly direct or aggressive. However, you sense that in the near future, you may both overcome these fears and either start dating or enter into a committed relationship. You feel that this connection has the potential to succeed.

What do you need to know about this connection?

In the near future, both of you may grow closer, but for now, patience is essential from each side. A small effort from both can advance this connection. Working as a team, rather than as individuals, is crucial for this relationship to flourish. The choice is yours: to wait or to give up. Take control of your destiny and steer your own life. If expressing your feelings to one another feels right, then do so rather than merely waiting. At present, focus on understanding your emotions and intuition. Connect with your heart, envision each other in your dreams, and trust your instincts. Enjoy the freedom of the journey together without fixating on the outcome. Concentrate on nurturing a strong connection at this moment.

[glittergelpensblog]

Shadow and Song (Azriel x Reader) Part Two

Part two! Thank you so much for all of the support for part one! I have so many ideas for this series and can’t wait to see where it takes me :)

Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 2,577

Part One

It wasn't until you felt Elain's hand on your back that you finally let go of Feyre.

"Mrs. Laurent, draw up some tea and bring it to the drawing room." Elain spoke.

Mrs. Laurent looked like she wanted to do no such thing, glancing between the three of you. It was with one final glare to Feyre that she turned around and made her way to the kitchen.

_____________________________________________________________

Elain and Nesta sat on the opposite side of you and Feyre. Everyone quiet, too scared to speak, too scared to find out what made your sister return home.

It was she who finally broke the silence, "Where is father?"

"In Neva," Nestas voice was sharp. " Trading with some merchants from the other half of the world and attending a summit about the threat above the wall. A threat I wonder if you've come back to warn us about."

You drew in sharp breath. A threat above the wall? Why hadn't Nesta mentioned that to you? Why didn't she tell you anything?

"Whatever the reason, Feyre," Elain spoke softly. "We are happy to see you. Alive. We thought you were--"

"I never thought that." You sent a look to Elain before your gaze met Nesta's. You knew it was coming, knew the look in her eyes.

But before she could snap back at you, words bound to be as sharp as knives, Feyre pulled down the hood of her cloak down.

Elain's hands immediately began shaking, teacup rattling in her saucer. Your eyes widened as you took in your sister. Her slimmer figure, her taller stature. Her ears.

She was Fae.

"I was dead. I was dead, and then I was reborn--remade." Feyre's voice shook.

Elain set down her cup and Nesta angled herself, the movement barely noticeable, between them and Feyre. Her hand slightly stretching out, as if she wanted to take you behind her as well.

Feyre did nothing but hold her gaze with Nesta. "I need you to listen."

You were silent as she told her story. She spoke of the trials Under the Mountain, about Amarantha, how the red-headed witch had killed her, and then how the other Fae gave her back her life. She briefly mentioned leaving Tamlin and her new life in the Night Court. Her job with the High Lord. She explained why she was back. The threat at the border. Hybern. What she needed you to help her with.

You knew Feyre was different the moment you saw her. Yes, she was beautiful, almost glowing. But you knew something was wrong. You saw it in her eyes, her tight lipped smile. You felt it in the way she barely hugged you back. The horrors she endured, they had changed her, had taken her warmth.

"You--you want other High Fae to come... here. And... the Queens of the Realm." Elain's soft voice was nearly shaking.

"When?" you asked, not bothering to look at your other sisters, your gaze only on Feyre.

"Find somewhere else." Nesta spat.

Feyre turned to face Nesta, getting ready to speak again.

But Nesta wouldn't allow her. "Find somewhere else. I don't want them in my house. Or near Elain. Or near Y/N."

"Nesta, please," Feyre begged, "There is nowhere else; nowhere I can go without someone hunting me, crucifying me--"

"And what of us? When the people around here learn we're Fae sympathizers? Are we any better than Children of the Blessed, then?"

"Because they cared so much about us when we were starving!" You snapped. "When we were nothing but a poor, dirty family in a rotting cottage? Why do we care what they think when they never cared for us?"

Nesta ignored you yet again. "Any standing, any influence we have--gone. And Elain's wedding--"

"Wedding?" Feyre blurted, eyes scanning Elain's left hand, the dark iron wrapped around her finger.

"In five months," Nesta said. "She's marrying a lord's son. And his father has devoted his life to hunting down your kind when they cross the wall. So there will be no meeting here. There will be no Fae in this house."

"Do you include me in that declaration?" Feyre's voice was quiet, the answer found in Nesta's silence.

Your mind was a blur as you took it all in. The Fae are what took Feyre, what had taken many lives before hers. They would cross the wall to torture, to kill, the Beddors a recent wound still fresh in your Village's mind. But the Fae had also saved Feyre, gave her life. If they truly were as bad as human's thought, then why did Tamlin spare Feyre's life? Why did the High Lords resurrect her?

"Nesta," Elaine spoke again, "If... if we do not help Feyre, there won't be a wedding. Even Lord Nolan's battlements and all his men, couldn't save me from... from them. We keep it secret-- we send the servants away. With spring approaching, they'll be glad to go home. And if Feyre needs to be in and out for meetings, she'll send word ahead, and we'll clear them out. Make up excuses to send them on holidays. Father won't be back until the summer, anyway. No one will know."

"There is no other way." Feyre held her gaze with Nesta.

"We'll send the servants away tomorrow." Nesta said.

"Today, we don't have any time to lose. Order them to leave now."

"I'll do it." Elain stood, brushing off her skirts.

"I'll help," You joined, following your sister into the kitchen, mind racing with a million thoughts. You would never get Feyre back, never the way you thought you would. You would never live together again, never have her head against your shoulder as you played the piano late at night. There was no way she could come back, not with her new found life.

You pushed back the tears in your eyes as you approached Mrs. Laurent.

______________________________________________________________

"Why didn't you tell me?" You asked Nesta.

Feyre was still in the drawing room when you called Nesta from the hall, feigning that you needed assistance with getting something out of your Father's study.

"Why didn't I tell you what?" Nesta said.

"What Father was truly doing in Neva? That there was a threat above the wall. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Like you could've done anything," Nesta's voice was low. "There is nothing you could've done but worry."

"We could've helped, like we are right now--"

"Which we shouldn't be doing! We are putting ourselves in jeopardy--"

"As Feyre did for us," You glowered, "As she did every day in those woods, nearly freezing to death every winter. For us. We are helping Feyre in the way she helped us, in the way she kept us alive!"

"All of the servants have left," Elain's soft voice interrupted, saving you from the next cruel words to spew from Nesta's mouth. "Feyre said there are others here, for us to meet."

You followed Elain into the drawing room.

______________________________________________________________

Feyre entered the room, cloak gone, and you couldn't help but stare at your sister. This was her life now. She wore an intricate gown, probably worth more than you and your sister's gowns combined. Her body was adorned with jewelry, including a crown at the top of her head.

Behind her stood three men, the first, in the middle, seeming to radiate power, the High Lord, you assumed. His dark hair and fine black clothes contrasted with his violet, almost glowing, eyes. The one to his left seemed wild, ancient. He wore an outfit made of leather, adorned with glowing red jewels on his hands, chest, and shoulders, his dark brown hair almost reaching them. And he had wings, giant wings, almost like a bat's.

And to the High Lord's right was what had to be the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He was dressed similarly to the man on the left, wearing black leathers, but with blue gems rather than red. His face was narrow, sharp, expression calm as he looked at you and your sisters. His dark hair slightly covering his forehead, a strand nearing his hazel eyes. Like the other male, he also had large, bat-like wings.

You tucked your head down as Nesta stepped in front of you and Elain.

Feyre stopped a few feet in front of you before she spoke, "My sisters, Y/N, Nesta, and Elain Archeron." She paused, allowing you all to take in the men before you.

"Cassian," She gestured to the man on the left, then slightly turning to the right, "Azriel, and Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court. "

You stood silent, surveying the powerful men. The hairs on you neck stood, and your heart was pounding wildly in your chest. You tried to calm yourself. Though the were Fae, they wouldn't hurt you. They had taken in Feyre, cared for her. And they were here to protect you.

Rhysand bowed to you and your sisters. "Thank you for your hospitality--and generosity," A warm smile graced his features.

You smiled back at him, and the other two men. "It is nice to meet you," You fought to keep your voice steady.

Nesta looked at Feyre, then the men. "The cook left dinner on the table. We should eat before it goes cold." She said before she strode off to the dining room

You followed Elain out as she sputtered a "Nice to meet you" to the three men.

Nesta sat at the head of the table, Elain to her left, and you took the right. Feyre sat beside you and Cassian next to Elain, Azriel on this other side. Rhysand slid into the seat next to Feyre .

The two winged males struggled to sit, adjusting their large wings with the back of the chair.

"Would you like a stool?" You asked, noticing their efforts to remain comfortable.

Nesta scoffed at your gesture

"Thank you, but we'll be fine." Cassisan said to you with a reassuring smile.

Feyre was the first to open the dishes of steaming food. Everyone was silent as they began preparing their plates and eating.

Nesta eyed Feyre as the latter took a bite, struggling to chew.

"Is there something wrong with our food?" Nesta clipped.

"No," Feyre replied, reaching for her water, her face slightly tinged pink.

"So you can't eat normal food anymore--or are you too good for it?"

Nesta truly could not leave it alone for one night. You fought the urge to roll your eyes.

"I can eat, drink, fuck, and fight just as well as I did before. Better, even."

Your face became hot as you blushed at your sister's words, and you heard Cassian nearly choke on his water. Nesta just laughed lowly.

It was Rhys who intervened, attempting to diffuse the building argument. "If you ever come to Prythian, you will discover why your food tastes so different."

You didn't even know visiting Prythian was an option. Perhaps there was hope that you would be able to see your sister outside of the circumstances you were in.

Nesta's glare shifted from Feyre to Rhys. "I have little interest in ever setting foot in your land, so I'll have to take your word for it."

"Nesta, please," Elain whispered.

Nesta ignored her, looking at Cassian who was assessing her with a smirk on his lips. "What are you looking at?"

Cassian's brows rose, the amusement on his face gone. "Someone who let her youngest sister risk her life every day in the woods while the other youngest dealt with sleazy men at the pubs, all while you did nothing. " Your face flushed at his words, not knowing what Feyre had told them of you. "Someone who let a fourteen-year-old child go out into that forest, so close to the wall. Your sister died--died to save my people. She is willing to do so again to protect you from war. So don't expect me to sit here with my mouth shut while you sneer at her for a choice she did not get to make--and insult my people in the process."

Nesta ignored him and turned to Feyre, Cassian's face filling with rage.

"It... it is very hard, you understand, to... accept it," Elain spoke to him, "We are raised this way. We hear stories of your kind crossing the wall to hurt us. Our own neighbor, Clare Beddor, was taken, her family murdered... it's all very disorienting."

"We know you are not here to hurt us," Your voice was steady a you looked between the three men, "But it is rare we experience Fae who are to help and not hurt."

"I can imagine," Azriel spoke, the first you had heard his voice the entire night.

"Nesta and I did not know what to do, how to work or hunt. Our lives were taken from us overnight. We were scared, had received no training, we failed them. Both of us." Elain said.

Feyre turned to face Nesta. "Can we just... start over?"

It looked as if it took everything in Nesta to back down. "Fine."

"Can you really fly?" Elain took Cassian's attention from Nesta.

The rest of the dinner went well after that, Nesta being as civilized as she got while the Fae explained their magic, the Illyrian race, and "Lesser Faeries" or Cassian called them. The meal was ended with a discussion of the sleeping arrangements for the night, Nesta assigning you the task of showing them their rooms before they began working on their letter to the queens.

After you had given them the directions to their rooms, you pulled Feyre aside while the three men began their work, most likely eavesdropping on your conversation.

"I missed you," You spoke, gently grabbing Feyre's hand, "How are you, truly?"

There was a long pause before she replied, "I don't know how to feel... I don't think I know how to feel. What happened Under the Mountain, the horrors I had endured... I wouldn't wish that upon my worst enemy."

"Is it better, at the Night Court?"

Feyre breathed deeply, looking out the window, up towards the night sky.

"With Tamlin, it was like I was drowning, suffocating. Everywhere I went there were sentries behind me. I was never left alone, I couldn't leave the house. What happened Under the Mountain broke me, but living in that house, it felt like I was trapped under there all over again.

"At the Night Court, I feel... free, I suppose. There's no breathing down my shoulder, no one telling me what I cannot do, where I cannot go. What people think of what I do doesn't matter. I have a job, people to protect... but it doesn't feel like a burden, I don't know what it feels like..."

A purpose.

"What Rhysand said, about visiting Prythian..." Your voice was barely above a whisper, a dream you were too scared to say aloud, like telling one a wish so it wouldn't become true. "Can that actually happen, can I actually visit you there?"

Feyre struggled to keep the tears in her eyes, you were so full of hope, so full of life, of innocence.

She couldn't let you visit, not right now, with war so close. She needed you here, safe.

"Maybe someday in the future, when things are safe. When this war is done with. Maybe then, you can come see me."

"I would love that."

"I would too."

______________________________________________________________

Tag list: @lizziesfirstwife @waytoomanyteenagefeels @starryhiraeth @knmendiola @bionic-donut @caosfanblr @lena-davina @starriestarlight @younxii @starsdoulikedem @lucyysthings @esposadomd @naturakaashi @carolinaflicker @missusbarnes-rogers @vlysseve @lollipop974 @whydohumansss @spaxxxi

[lucysarah-c]

The way I'd never survive a relationship with Levi. A relationship with him is NOT for the weak, lol. Like...I love him a whole lot, but...no.

I think his devotion and his deep love for his s/o is something we all are looking for, especially in our time rn. But damn...I'd end up crumbling.

Like...money wise, personality wise, etc.

Again, a relationship with Levi? NOT for the weak.

Hello! Haha, I just received this ask and felt a mix of amusement and conflict.

I'm always apprehensive about writing Levi too harshly in response to asks. I often think, "This anon probably wants to read about Levi doing what they're asking and maybe they need to read about it because they're having a bad day." But then I also think, "If they truly want my interpretation, I should be honest about how I view Levi as a person."

I am aware that I don't portray Levi as the most perfect persona and boyfriend, and that always makes me nervous. Lately, my blog has seen a lot of new traffic concerning "how I interpret Levi," and I’m constantly torn between giving anons what they probably want to hear to brighten their day and staying true to my thoughts.

This ask made me chuckle but also made me nervous. What if those who read my posts start to think that having Levi as a boyfriend is difficult or unenjoyable?

Levi is my favorite character, and I often think of him in terms of a poem about cats that I once read. The poem essentially suggested that "You should love a person as you love a cat. Allow them to reach out to you when they feel ready, understand their changes in mood, their personalities, and their distance. You love a cat even when they are surly because you understand that when they climb on top of you to purr and sleep on your chest, it’s because there’s no other place in the world they would rather be."

I think Levi aligns with this a lot. That’s also why it’s hard for me to write "modern AU" Levis. For me, Levi is who he is because of the situations he has endured. He's a man from a cruel society, facing high expectations and a difficult life. He's kind and lovely in his own way because he’s not only a man who has suffered greatly, but also from a time and society where therapists didn’t exist—and if they did, their "treatments" were electroshocks. He's not perfect. I dare say that probably a lot of people within the walls don't like Levi because he's not a charismatic person. We love him because we know him, but we are omnipresent readers. Normal people just hear him being blunt with words and stoic.

Levi is probably hard to deal with in many departments, as all of us are to some degree, I believe! I'm sorry if I ever wrote him too harshly. I usually try to think that I love and write Levi in love as a rescued cat: he may be surly, he may have issues, but when he's with someone, it's because he wishes to be nowhere else in this world.

Sorry for the ramble.

Love ya <3

[foxes-that-run]

have you seen LK’s post? He was very chatty but seemed weird to me, like he was upset, saying the poem was about an ex friend that he currently dislikes…. Needless to say that he even added a TTPD lyric into the mix … could he be referring to TS?

Posted at 2:45pm London time and the comments are !!

The poem (and comments) are about the end of a once close relationship, LK is writing about someone he held close, feels he made sacrifices for but it was one sided. The rhyme scheme and structure is very similar to Harry’s songs and LK says its original.

Who laughs at your jokes?

LK asks if someone feels seen by others, even when it’s not returned. It evokes twin flames to me.

Who breathes in all your smoke?

Taking on someone else’s burdens, even when it hurts you. Quietly absorbing their struggles. This reminds me of the invisible smoke in the archer, clearing the air I breathed in the smoke in daylight and smell of smoke hung around this long in cardigan

Who toughs out the rainfall? Who gets themselves soaked?

Enduring hardships alongside someone, even at a personal cost. Loyalty that leaves you exposed. This is very HYGTG coded, and clean, sparks fly, Taylor uses this metaphor a lot in songs about real love and sacrifice.

Who weathers your storms?

Shielding someone from the worst parts of life, taking on their chaos as your own. Self sabotage mode, Throwing spikes down on the road anyone? ‘An my words shoot to kill when I’m mad, I have a lot of regrets about that’ from this is me trying.

Who knows when you perform?

A deep, quiet understanding of someone. Seeing through the mask they wear for others. It’s a pretty close reference to ‘the only one who knows which smiles I’m faking’ in tis the damn season.

Who gives up their kindling to make sure you’re warm?

The ultimate sacrifice—giving away the parts of yourself you need to survive, just to keep them comfortable. This reminds me of story of my life “I drive all night to keep her warm” a similar theme of unreciprocated devotion.

—

Overall It’s about the cost of care—the kind of love that drains you when it’s not mutual. The repetition of “Who” feels like a plea, a reflection on what it means to give so much and receive so little.

In the comments LK responded to someone who brought up TTPD/loml with the line “who else is gonna decide you” with a similar idea that there is no one else who gets LK like this person. Poor LK, too much holiday feeling I think. In the comments he ruefully says it’s fine he won’t act and it’s long gone. Whenever he’s referring to clearly matters to him and I hope it isn’t as done as he’s saying. Or more correctly I hope they make amends.

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

OK I slept on it and I think I need to stop playing guitar at my church and probably just stop attending entirely

The reasons for this are many, but I'm going to summarize the music thing in particular by saying that playing there has been one of the most bizarrely lonely experiences of my life

I've been playing there now eighteen months and this has been an issue pretty much the whole time. Most of them have known each other for years and are brilliant friends. It's always very difficult to break into a dynamic like that. I only make it worse, to be honest. I'm not super socially aggressive, I'm not good at small talk, and nothing about my disposition advertises that I am an approachable person. My attempts to fix this both in this specific context and in my life more generally have yielded...mixed results. Furthermore, I have gathered from eighteen months of listening to these peoples' conversations that we have essentially nothing in common.

This is compounded by the way the music itself is actually done. Everyone has in-ear monitors--sound-cancelling headphones connected to a personal sound mixing board. The strength of this approach is that everyone can create for themselves a mix that emphasizes the parts they most need to hear, and it makes it much easier to run sound for the auditorium because the sound engineers don't need to try to manage stage volume and try to balance the often irrational desires of the musicians with the demands of a good mix (e.g., if your guitar player is deaf and needs the guitar blasting on the stage, it's hard to make a good mix for people listening that doesn't feature the guitar blasting from the stage).

But this has the effect of hermetically sealing every person in the band from everyone else. You can only communicate with other people if you have a microphone and they have your microphone turned on. The experience is weirdly solipsistic. As you play, you simply have no idea what everyone else in the band is hearing. They might not hear you at all. You yourself have your own mix in your ears and you have no idea how what you are playing translates into the actual mix. You could, theoretically, be wailing away at full volume while the people at the sound board have switched you off. I don't sing so I don't have a microphone, so if I want to communicate with someone I need physically to walk to them and then gesticulate to get them to take out their headphone so that I can talk. This makes the relative cost of a social interaction fairly high, and so I am only going to do it if there is a problem that I cannot fix or endure.

This does not make for an environment of social cohesion. It's actually quite dehumanizing in a way. You are a widget who is plugged in and unplugged each week, it makes no real difference who else is there, and for all you know nothing you are playing is even being heard.

These are issues I have endured basically because I feel that I ought to perform some volunteer service for the church, and because they have continued to schedule me to play. But I strongly suspect that their opinion of my ability is rather diminishing, possibly because I can't devote as much time to practice as I could in the past because of my many and multiplying obligations elsewhere. But I would never know. Nobody really talks to me. I'm not really given notes about what I'm playing, which I take as a sign of indifference rather than approval. Sometimes people have said in the past that I played well, but not lately, perhaps because it no longer needs to be said, or perhaps because it is no longer true. I have no idea who if anyone even hears what I am doing. For all I know they have a recording playing and I am just up there to make it look like someone plays guitar, though I am not an especially good looking person so I'm not sure why I would need to be doing that.

I have also endured it up to now because life has been more endurable otherwise, and I felt like some suffering in the cause of volunteering was all right. But now that my life outside of this volunteering has become much less tolerable, volunteering itself has become much less tolerable. It's not clear to me I am adding anything other than a warm body, I am not especially enjoying the playing itself, and the experience of alienation and isolation that surrounds the experience--the awkward lack of small talk during setup and tear down, the awkward silence during the many down times--is positively punishing.

Yet further complications include that the music itself is extremely stupid, the theological content of the lyrics generally nonexistent, and my feelings about this brand of Protestantism increasingly sour.

Now the grown up thing to do is just to tell them that I cannot do it because I am so busy with other things. This relieves them of my existence in a way that spares them having ever to tell me that I am not good enough to be there or that I do not belong, and maintains the illusion of good will on both sides.

But the almost irresistible temptation is to say nothing and just vanish.

[jokerislandgirl32]

Ziolet Songs: Day Eleven

Day 11: Can’t Help Falling in Love

Wise men say Only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you Shall I stay? Would it be a sin If I can't help falling in love with you?

Like a river flows Surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be

Take my hand Take my whole life, too For I can't help falling in love with you

Five days late, but here we are! I promise I will post all 31 songs in celebration of Zach and Violet’s 10 year wedding anniversary this month, but I will be extending it out into November since I’ve gotten behind.

For now I leave you with this song! For Violet this song is representative of her devotion to Zach. Even when she realized he was in another relationship she did not give up on her hope of one day being with him. She knew “some things are meant to be,” and she prayed that would be true for them.

Below you can find a fanfic excerpt I posted on tumblr a few years ago that many of you have not seen! I am reposting it here! Please note the excerpt contains mentions of a panic attack and angsty feelings.

“Heellllooooo, Violet? Special delivery for my dearest cousin, it’s your latest edition of the ‘stalking my crush gazette!’” My cousin Paige happily announced as she bounced into the house with a newspaper and magazine in hand. 

“Can you please stop it,” I groaned in embarrassment. 

Paige winked at me, “when you ask him out, I will! I’m ready to be your matron of honor, you know.”

“You know I can’t do that…and you just got married, do you really want to endure another wedding?” I murmured. 

“Well it’s obvious he’s not going to do it, and if he did he’d run away afterwards….I really thought you were the only one who did that, but he’s just as bad as you are, you truly are meant for each other. And absolutely, love is in the air, let’s just go crazy and have you and mom get married to your true loves this year too!” 

I snorted and rolled my eyes as Paige took a seat on a barstool beside me at the kitchen counter. She flipped through a popular celebrity magazine, and I scanned the paper I especially ordered from Massachusetts to keep up on the happenings of Varmitech Industries, and by extension Zach. 

After a few minutes of us silently reading, Paige let out a quiet gasp, I looked to her and saw her snap the magazine shut and move it away from my line of sight at an alarming rate. She looked at me with a pained expression. 

“What’s wrong,” I joked, “it looks like you’ve seen a ghost? Did your favorite boy band break up or something?” 

“No, it’s not that, it’s ummm, it’s nothing…” she spoke with an anxious tone to her voice, and she looked away from me. 

I felt my heart rate accelerate, I knew Paige, something was wrong…she was hiding something, “Paige, come on, you can tell me, what’s going on, it can’t be that bad…”

She opened the magazine to the page she’d tried to hide from me, and she pointed at it as a tear silently rolled down her cheek, “he’s with someone….”

My heart dropped into my stomach as I chanced a look at the page she was pointing to, there was a picture of Zach, and a headline that read, “CEO of Varmitech Industries Has Mystery Lover.”

My mouth dropped open in shock, and I stood up quickly, knocking the barstool over in my wake. I grasped my V butterfly necklace as the breath I did not know I’d been holding left my mouth in a strangled sob. I backed away from Paige and the counter, and I began to hyperventilate. I covered my mouth with my hands to hold back my sobs when the tears began streaming down my face. 

My quaking knees gave way, and I fell to the floor, succumbing to a full blown panic attack. Paige wrapped her arms around me, pulling me against her, trying her best to calm me. All I could think was what an idiot I’d been, I’d fallen in love with someone who belonged to someone else. Someone who would never be mine…no matter how much I wanted him to be mine. 

VvvvvvvVvvvvvV

I walked by the ocean that evening fingering the butterfly necklace Zach had given me only a couple months before on the night he kissed me, the night I thought he’d fallen in love with me. I quietly sang the lyrics to “Can’t Help Falling In Love:”

“Like a river flows

Surely to the sea

Darling, so it goes

Some things are meant to be…

Take my hand

Take my whole life, too

For I can't help falling in love with you…”

I let out a growl of frustration, and I unhooked the necklace, preparing to throw it into the ocean. Before I could do it, I reached up to wipe the tears from my eyes and saw that a small, perfectly shaped red and black scallop seashell had washed ashore by my feet. 

I picked it up and ran my thumb over the surface of the shell, and I took a deep breath before I pocketed it. The shell had Zach’s colors…that had to mean something…I refastened the necklace, and whispered, “‘some things are meant to be…’”

[afra-blueraz]

Hiya 👋 Hope you are doing well

I've gathered from your (absolutely gorgeous) art that you have a soft spot for Shuyui and Rukiyui. You've got fantastic taste, both these ships are elite and I'm glad that someone as talented as you is bringing more attention to them 😌

I'd love to know which Shuyui and Rukiyui moments are your personal favorites! Like instances where you think their love and devotion for each other shines brightest. It can be from the games or CD dramas or whatever ^_^

Keep up the fantastic work ♡

Oh my goodness thank you so much 😢💘. Hearing these messages always melt my heart and give me motivation. Thank you ❤️🌺.

Exactly you are right both Rukiyui and Shuyui are my beloved ships and I really really love these ships from the bottom of my heart.

I have a lot of favorite fluff moments for Shuyui and Rukiyui. My favorite Drama CDs are Zero, Bloody Bouquet and Daylight.

I shed tears in the Daylight series. I remember that Yui was afraid of death, but she didn't want to tell Ruki about her fears so as not to annoy him. Ruki hugs her and asks her to cry and tell about her fears because she doesn't have to keep everything to herself anymore. Ruki knows very well that Yui has endured a lot of hardships and does not want her to suffer more and even told her lie that he will continue his life after her death. He decided to follow Yui after her death. This is really beautiful 😢😭🥺💘.

Regarding the games, I feel that Shu had feelings for Yui from the first game, but was afraid to express them. Because after Reiji killed Yui, Shu decided to bring Yui back to life and continue to love Yui despite her blindness. Although this ending was one of the bad endings, it is one of my favorites. I can understand Shu's big love with Yui.

Let's not forget Dark fate. When Shu stood up to Karlheinz and told him I will not let you or anyone else hurt her. He called Yui his family and started a new life with her and Ririe. Do I need to say that Shu has repeatedly said that his life has no meaning without Yui? Yui brought back Shu's sense of vitality and happiness and taught him to love again. We all know that Shu got depressed after Edgar's death and forgot all his feelings. The only one who could return Shu's feelings was Yui.

What should I say about Rukiyui? Even though More Blood wasn't the best, I loved how Ruki called Yui his angel and decided to betray Karlheinz to prove his love to Yui.

In the season of Dark Fate. Oh my god when Ruki read Yui's letter and cried. Let me tell you, Ruki is my type and I know very well how hard it is for us INTJs to cry. People with this type cry when they are really broken. The moment Yui said I miss you, I could hear my and Ruki's heart breaking. At the same time as Ruki, I wanted to cry 💔😭.

As someone who used to be human, Ruki has forgotten his feelings, Yui is the one who can rekindle these feelings in Ruki. Even Ruki who was a spoiled and selfish nobleman. They are truly made for each other.

This moment. I was so proud of them in this moment. Ruki showed how much he cares for Yui and love her.

Thank you again for your sweet words. I know that I have been inactive for a few days. It's because I'm a little busy with my writing project. I will back very soon.

If you are interested in these ships I suggest you to follow my cousin @shuyui-nether . She is crazy for Shuyui 😄.

And my friends @its-irsaa-fyp @diabolik-art-blog . Both of them have soft sides for elder brothers ships 😁. Rukiyui , Shuyui and Carlayui are their favorites.

[des-no9]

on Gith, Vlaakith 1 and Zerthimon

My mind's been whirring a tonne about the og trio the past several days because of @gothyanki and @nothingimportantanywhere so this is all thanks to them, their ideas and I just need to write some of this down.

It mostly stems from our desire to make more of Gith, of Vlaakith 1 and why she did what she did rather than the classic FR evil because evil.

However, thinking more on my githyanki language of love and affection and how too that impacted on their culture, and how they could have been, once, a more family, emotionally connected and caring within eachother, race.

During the uprising and gaining their freedom from the Illithid, I HC that Gith, Vlaakith and Zerthimon grew close and worked together for their people, becoming these revered figureheads for everything they achieved.

Gith the charismatic, powerful, furious leader; Vlaakith almost devotion to her, initially. A quieter presence of the three, but intelligent, scheming - close to what the githyanki of today see as gish (assassins and spies). Where Zerthimon was a balance between the three. Strategist, speaker. And they were all messily in love.

They formed (what they thought) unbreakable bonds between the three of them from the strife, the pain. Enduring slavery, breaking their shackles, and becoming their own people.

And then once freedom, the purpose of gaining that freedom that bound them all together is no more and changes. It's something else now. Survival; beginnings; hope; creation; domination; power; celebration. Whatever it means, not all three of them end up sharing the same vision. Because going through something like that changes you, irrevocably.

And some point through it all, there was Orpheus.

And for me, I think he could have been a catalyst for a lot of the breakdown of the three.

I like to HC that he's the son of Gith and Zerthimon, and initially while gaining their freedom, he was raised between all three, but when they saw he'd inherited his mothers powers too (they'd desperately hoped. I think this is a big reason maybe why Gith had a child. A failsafe, just incase the worst happened to her and there would be someone else to carry on where she left off) Gith and Zerthimon started to train Orpheus to hone his skills and powers so he could be the heir Gith wanted.

And Vlaakith watched most of this from the sidelines, feeling more like an outsider everyday. Resentment building that she wasn't, and couldn't truly be part of Orpheus in the way Gith and Zerthimon were.

(I need to be inside your son the way you are, my lover, but can never be. Vlaakith a little unhinged. Gith and Vlaaktih the original toxic yuri write that down)

She helped train him too, but Orpheus preferred his fathers skills and ways, and what psionic power Vlaakith had paled in comparion to Gith's. She was a shadow to so many, but she never expected she'd start becoming one to the two most important people in her life.

(re Orpheus knowing about both his parents: I'm unsure how explicit I want them to be about that with him or how much he or they cared to tell him the specifics of his dad. I think it's pretty obvious, but the significance of them being a 'unit' rather than just, Zerth being an imporant 'figure' in Orpheus' life idk. I'm fully on board with (fuck) Boy Prince Orpheus era where he's a little high on my power and status lording over all you losers. But that comes more once Gith's ascended the throne)

Anyway. So post-freedom, post Gith on the throne and Vlaakith becoming her right hand, Zerth doing his thing and they kind of....really started to fracture in their ideals and ways.

Gith became obsessed with never being a slave to anyone again. That fear drove her almost mad, I think. And so did Zerthimon turning away from her own vision, especially since they shared a son. He was the future, the security, the power and promise of their people, of her vision, and freedom.

She saw it as a betrayal. As him lying down and quashing that rage he should feel after all they'd been through. Why aren't you angry, why don't you want to rage across the endless and all after what happened to us and rip apart the planes which are now ours?

He tried, consistent at her side to sway her. But the uprising had changed her. Broken her in a way he'd been too close to see. Now stood back, the cracks were like maws.

Vlaakith stood fast by Gith during the civil war. If she doesn't want you anymore, Zerth, then she'll only have me. But Vlaakith's jealousy over Gith's power, how the people revered her, Orpheus - fucking Orpheus - and once more, Vlaakith was the shadow, the second glance, third.

(Orpheus' thoughts on the civil war are for another post because hoo boy that'll be a long one too)

Everyone wanted Gith. An audience, honour to view, to speak to witness their breaker of shackles.

Everyone took a piece, while Vlaakith was losing hers.

Obsessiveness consumed her to the point that 'if I can't have you anymore, no-one else will'.

So fast forward to their visit to Tiamat, and Gith being the offering for the dragons, and Vlaaktih sitting upon Gith's throne, becoming her.

I can't have you, so no-one else can-

I can't be you-

I can be you, watch me.

Then, with Oprheus, it's only sensible to her that she imprisons him. But that takes time. Patience. The shadows she's so used to, and ultiamtely, sealing Gith's power in a neat little box until that day she figures out how to consume Orpheus and his power for her own, and there will be nothing left for Gith then, but her.

Then from Vlaaktih, broken and bitter and twisted by so much, this bleeds and breeds and spreads and beats into the githyanki culture and the githyanki we know today, with so much less love, no family, empathy-

-just paragons of rage, power, hate, I take what's mine, I keep it, I am what I say I am, i conquer worlds, I conquer you.

[quillkiller]

I had a dream about Bellatrix X fem!regulus. Is this weird or can you see the vision

baby i so see the vision and i’ve had wandering thoughts about them before………. lesbian regulus is my favorite regulus.. and as you all know bella is always a lesbian to me <3

to me, this relationship would be sort of similar to her affair with lucius which i’ve written about here. something something about how it’s easier to endure together, easier to explore together— but instead of bella wanting to ruin reg like she wants to ruin and possess lucy, i feel like she’d be a lot more protective and familial with regulus. she’d want to be her protector and dark knight and take reg under her wing. it would be sort or mutually destructive and chaotic i think but at the same time they’d feel completely safe together? there’s a knowing within the black family that i’ve talked to kara about before. they’re brought up repressing their feelings and desires and they so badly want their lovers to just be able to read their minds. to just be able know. which is why most of their relationships not only ends, but more often than not ends in tragedy. bella and reg would both be blacks, and while they can’t actually read each others minds there’s still a knowing and understanding between them that only exists within the black family itself. even sirius and andy know this even when they run away, which is why it hurts so much to think about what they left behind. the blacks are so intertwined and similar in what they don’t say that they can very nearly make it out from nothing but a gut feeling or a look.

bellas and regs differences are also interesting to think about. first off there would be quire the age gap. bella is almost always atleast 8 years older than reg to me. then there’s bellas determination and ambition to make it to the very top. to get the best grade in Loyal Follower. she’s a woman who’s not only willing to, but has been actively looking her whole life for something to devote herself to body and soul. she doesn’t want to be a person, and having a sense of self makes her uncomfortable. makes her think of all the ways she’s lacking. how she’ll never be heir. how she’ll never be equal to a man no matter how hard she works. no matter if she works harder than all of them. and (if this is a voldy vision) before she stumbles upon the dark lord, bella is desperately looking for things to devote herself to in the meantime.

reg would soak it up a think. to be she’s always the second choice. the quiet one and to everyone else she’s always been not-sirius. reg isn’t charming like sirius, isn’t charismatic like like sirius, doesn’t turn heads like sirius does, isn’t fit to be a leader like sirius. sirius, the favorite son and favorite friend and favorite cousin. reg to me is a mtf lesbian btw, or i always see her gender and something strange and vague and she doesn’t ever really transform to me more than she relates to a genderless experience/a womans experience. usually she’s a he/him nonbinary dyke to me but i think in a voldy world she’d be more confused about her gender and consider herself mtf regardless of if she comes out or not. anyway! sirius leaves and now she’s heir because she’s still percieved as a man. and that’s where bella swoops in and bends the knee, wants to be regs dark knight and devote herself to her. i don’t think reg has ever felt anything like it. to be the center or someones world. to be the object of someones desire in this obsessive and intense way. so i think she’d bask in it. bella would know about regs gender identity and be protective. there’s a familial bond between them that doesn’t exist between her and lucy in my other au. bella would want reg under her wing, would always want an eye on her. would always want her safe…..? what if they’d even get married.

please tell me more about your dream!!! id LOVE to hear your vision!!!!

[yingren]

sometimes, dan feng is right. actually, scratch that — dan feng is almost always right. whether it’s rattling off some obscure fact, answering a question posed by one of their companions, or offering something poetically sentimental like this, he rarely finds himself in the wrong. it’s a quality that both impresses and occasionally irritates yingxing. because here’s the thing about yingxing: he’s fully entitled to find dan feng annoying. objectively speaking, dan feng is a stubborn and headstrong figure who knows exactly how to get under yingxing’s skin. no, more than that — he practically lives there, settling into a quiet truce most of the time, careful not to overstep boundaries or push too hard. but every so often, with the restless curiosity of someone far younger than his years, dan feng seeks out new ways to irritate yingxing in that uniquely dan feng way. not that the craftsman truly minds, of course. truth be told, yingxing finds himself unbothered by the high elder’s constant presence. after all, he enjoys testing limits too.

“ your actions have told me that you missed me, i suppose. ” not really, but yingxing still throws it out there, knowing dan feng can refute it. he doesn’t expect anything different, though. despite all the teasing dan feng endures, he always responds with an honesty that can’t be shaken. yingxing doesn’t forget the drink in his hand, taking slow sips of the baijiu now and then, letting the taste linger on his tongue before swallowing, over and over again. he couldn’t count how many times they’ve done this, not even with one hand. high elder and artisan, sharing drinks and quiet moments beneath the moonlight. it’s their ritual, their unspoken bond.

running away is a dream, perhaps not yingxing’s dream, but one he entertains now and then. the thought of himself in another world, free of responsibilities, lingers. it seems unlikely, though. if he were to leave, he’d lose the hardships he feels bound to, the ones he’s struggled to escape. he’d also forfeit the hard work he’s invested into building his own name. dan feng must understand that. just as yingxing knows there's no chance for either of them to ever truly run away. they are both bound to this life, to their duties, whether they like it or not. but one can still dream. dream of freeing dan feng from the weight of his role as high elder, dream of being somewhere else, where the sun rises in the west and sets in the east, and where two moons witness their bond grow. to call it 'companionship' feels too gentle, too cautious a word. yingxing decides he doesn’t like it. wrapped around his wrist is a bracelet, identical to the one dan feng wears. that’s not just companionship — it’s something else, something deeper.

“ oh, is that so ? your feedback is appreciated. i do work tirelessly to find new ways to tempt you. ” his arm extends just enough to brush against dan feng’s side, and they sit there for another moment, suspended in time that belongs solely to them. it’s not borrowed, stolen, or taken from anyone else — it’s theirs to cherish, devoted entirely to this brief connection. yingxing finishes his drink quickly, downing the last of it in one swift gulp. the taste mirrors how dan feng feels. warm, freeing, and just a bit too comforting. as he reaches to bridge the distance between their hands, yingxing finds his fingers interlaced with dan feng’s, holding on as if he’s unwilling to let go. maybe he won’t. maybe they could remain like this a while longer, if only he held on a little tighter. “ then, if you do not mind it too much, may i tempt you in a different way ? ” raising dan feng’s hand to his lips, still tasting the remnants of liquor on his tongue, yingxing presses a gentle kiss to the gloved palm of the vidyadhara’s hand.

@altarfates / cont.