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themeraldee · 4 months ago

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First Time for Everything

[Masterlist]

18+ Only | 2.1k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Cunnilingus. Fingering. Overstimulation. Squirting. Literally just PWP.

Written for anon 💚

Homelander’s got you with your back flush to the bed, panting and twitching. He’s just finished a damn good job of licking and sucking your cunt through an orgasm, as always delivered without a hitch. You’re there thrashing around like a fish out of water but he’s got your hips pinned down and there’s not a chance in hell you could ever get out of his titanium hold.

With his head still buried in between your thighs he flattens his tongue over your quivering pussy, feeling every throb, pulse and twitch. Fuck, you feel good against his tongue. While most people he encounters quiver with fear, you quiver with mindless pleasure, the muscles in your thighs shaking around his head. The smell of you has him hungry for more as he laps over your weeping cunt a few more times, catching your clit at every swipe of his tongue. And you taste fucking divine. It was only appropriate for a god like him to be served the most exquisite pussy.

He moves his hand up, pressing down on your pubic area to hold you while his other, now free, hand squeezes his shaft through the soft padding of his pants. It’s not really enough, not enough at all. Especially compared to the delicious squeeze of your cunt he recently got so used to. He pulls back to watch as it uselessly squeezes around nothing, begging for his cock and his cock only.

All in due time. If he stuffed you full now, the fresh tight, orgasm-powered squeeze of your slick walls would have him spilling in no time. You truly were lucky to have him. Nobody else could be so attuned to your needy body’s reactions. Nobody else could see your inner walls pulsate and throb, still coated in your delicious sticky sap.

Just as your orgasm eases off, you lift yourself up slowly to your elbows, then to an almost sitting position, supported by your hands. But Homelander isn’t ready to give up the control he has over your convulsing body. So instead he stops squeezing his cock and he pushes you down on your back again.

“Nope, you stay down. I’m not done with you yet.” His tone was innocently cheerful but his grin didn’t hide the depravity of his thoughts. Oh the thoughts running through his head on just how many ways he can ruin you. Just how many orgasms can he give you before you pass out? Have you ever come without getting your now poor and overstimulated clit played with? He should find out. Fucking into your cunt at every angle imaginable, from either side, front and back, upside down; he could do it all—effortlessly. And when your pussy is raw and aching? Well then he’ll have a little play around with your cute ass. Have you ever had your asshole fingered? Of course not, you were too sweet for that.

Now that you’re his he’s gonna have to work hard to screw that sweetness out of you until he’s left with an unabashedly begging mess that he knows is hiding in you. His cock throbs at the idea. The idea of corrupting you to your filthy core is a tempting one.

He wants—no, needs—you to know that there’s never gonna be anyone that can make you feel like this.

Now that you’re on your back again without much protesting, he peels his gloves off. He thought about stretching your cunt around the soft leather of his glove but the temptation to feel your throbbing flesh around his bare digits was too strong to overcome.

He places his left palm flat on your pubic area, pressing down a little. Looking up he meets your eyes and with another shark-like dazzling grin he asks. “Comfortable?”

You give a cutesy little nod, biting your lip. How dare you look so cute. Other vermin usually tremble in fear anytime he’s close to getting his hands on them whether it be with good intentions or not, yet there you are with his palm pressing down on you and all it does is send a thrill up your spine. The same palm that is capable of very easily crushing the bones in your pelvis is currently splayed out tapping each finger in succession against your skin.

You give your hips a wiggle just to show him how comfortable you are with barely being able to move.

“Good.” He smiles at you, his heart skipping a beat at the joy and excitement that is pouring out of you. You really fucking love him. Feeling overwhelmed by that ballooning emotion he looks down instead focusing his thoughts on your pussy. She’s eagerly waiting for him, so really it’d be rude of him to take any longer.

His pointer and middle finger slide from the top of your slit all the way down. Immediately coated in the sticky goodness your cunt can’t seem to stop producing around him. His slicked fingers go up to your clit, spread in a V shape, now catching your clit where they meet. You give him a few little squeaks each time he gives your clit another teasing bump. How you appear so apple pie sweet even when he’s got his fingers and lips soaked in your juices never ceases to amaze him.

His fingers finally make it down to your hole. It’s pulsating right in front of his fingers, opening up and just trying to slurp him in. It’s a miracle he hasn’t shoved his cock in there yet today. He licks his lips, the taste of you a reminder of good times while the tips of his fingers slide in.

He parts his lips, eyebrows furrowed as he watches your flesh eagerly slick his way through. He lets out a short cut-off gasp as he turns his fingers upside down with his palm now facing up while still inside you. And god is it fucking tight in there. He hasn’t had a chance to stretch you out yet. His cock throbs constantly now, his balls feel heavy, aching to unload inside you. Just feeling your cunt choke his fingers out makes him gasp. The memory of what it’s like to have you squeeze his hard shaft is indescribable, yet he feels it vividly around his fingers knowing you’d be pulling load after load from him. No chance he’s pulling out with a grip like that, fuck.

He’s way too close to messing up his pants with how vivid his memory feels so instead he focuses on you. He needs to ruin you as much as you ruin him. There you are happily on your back not even knowing how hard you’re making this on him. He needs you just as ruined. Just as hazy with the lust he feels anytime he smells your cunt get wet.

He pumps his fingers in and out a few times, getting the digits thoroughly soaked. He presses you down a little harder. You need to be kept in place. He crooks his fingers up, pressing against the soft spongy spot with his fingertips.

He’s only two knuckles deep when he pumps his fingers inside you. He starts slowly. His strong fingers massage you, forcing gentle sighs out of you. Yeah, that won’t do. Going a little harder, he fucks his fingers in and out of you in a curved motion, hitting those upper walls with each stroke. His approach is loose and relaxed, giving you a little warm-up.

“Homelander…” Like music to his ears you moan his name. Your upper body arches. Your hands squeeze the sheets, your own tits, anything. Not being able to move your hips leaves you defenseless. He speeds up. He keeps up the same rhythm, unfaltering in the motion. The squelch of you alone has him salivating. Whether it’s because he’s hungry to eat your pussy again or just desperate to bury himself balls-deep he doesn’t know, but he wants it either way.

“Oh god, wait, it’s too much..” One of your hands grips his forearm, trying to pull his hand away from holding you down but you stand no chance. Good luck pushing against his godly frame. The only way you’d get him off would be if he took mercy on you. And he’s definitely not planning on that.

Your responsive cunt quivers around his digits. He feels your rushed breath and raised heart rate through the press of his hand. It’s delicious. Giving up any control you ever had over yourself and letting him take the wheel. Even though his pace is harsh, his rhythm is even. He fucks you silly as you cry out, eyes welling up with tears when he doesn’t let up.

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down! Please, fuck—oh fuck—please slow down, Homelander!” You sound shrill, panicked as an unfamiliar feeling rises in your core when Homelander’s fingers plunge into you over and over again, rubbing your wet cunt raw and sensitive.

He doesn’t stop. Not yet. He wants another pretty big finish. He wants a display equivalent to the fanfare of the 4th of July fireworks. He wants you to celebrate him. Your body needs to appreciate how much he’s giving you.

Each wet throb of your pussy has his cock leaking into his underwear and if he were any ordinary man he’d be losing all self-control, rutting into the sheets or just you, chasing his own spectacular finish. But this is about you proving how much you love him. How much are you willing to endure?

“Please, it’s too much, too much, toomuch.” You’re gasping for breath, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your cheeks are streaked with tears as your pathetic attempts at getting him to stop fail. He’s unyielding. A marble statue. Perfect in every way.

Your cunt is vividly locking up around his fingers and while he expected a show-stopping orgasm he didn’t expect this. A gush of clear liquid spurts out of you, followed by wail coming from your lips. Fuck. You’re a squirter. He pulls his fingers out with a squelch as you gush a few more times, soaking his hand, the sheets beneath you and his sleeve. Looking at his soaked sleeve now he thinks he doesn’t even want to get it washed out, carrying the scent of your pussy around like a trophy.

It’s uncontrollable. Your muscles quiver in a way he’s never seen before. He plunges his fingers into you again, greedy to see if there’s any more in you. Come on, you can do better for him. He deserves the fucking best.

He fucks his fingers into your weeping cunt rapidly, less rhythm this time as he realizes that the heavy breathing he hears is coming from him. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been, slick and squirt coating your thighs, running down in between your ass cheeks adding to the embarrassing bodily squelch of being just a bit too messy.

It’s alright, he can be messy too. He’ll forgive you for this.

You throb hot and heavy around his fingers and he pulls them out again as he watches you gush two more respectable spurts out of your exhausted pussy. He finally lifts his palm off your pubic area and already you’re squirming, pulling back from him and letting your muscles quiver freely.

“Wow, someone didn’t share all their talents with me!” He looks at you. Wow. He wishes he had a camera on him. You’re panting, your eyes are wet and hazy, your lips are swollen from the way you’ve been biting them and you’ve broken out into sweat. “Made a nasty mess, sweetheart.” He gives your pussy a wet pat with his hand while it’s still in reach.

“I didn’t—I didn’t know I could…” You sound wrecked. Jesus, he’s done a number on you. But that’s good, you do a number on him each time too. It was only fair you got to know what it's like to feel so uncontrollably good. “Umh, huh, I’m—I’m sorry. For the mess, I mean.” Aren’t you cute? He forced you to squirt and yet your good nature made you feel like apologizing. The only person you should apologize to should be the Vought employee that’s gonna be responsible for changing the sheets after he’s fully done with you. And even then they don’t fucking deserve your apology.

By now he’s had enough of you pulling away, trying to keep him away from this beautiful performance. My god, you were a natural at this. And he’s so fucking close to making you unravel fully.

“Shh, shh, none of that. No apologies. Instead…” He trails off, flashing you another sharp grin. He grabs you by your thighs pulling you right against where he's rock hard and aching.

“Think you can do that on my cock too?”

Taglist (you can add(or remove) yourself to be tagged when I publish a new fic):

@infinetlyforgotten | @rafecamsgirlll | @nervoussystemss | @hom3landr

@mrsdesade | @nommingonfood | @littlegaaby | @jokesonyoupup

@natliecole | @misatxox

#spat this out in like 2hs #idk what came over me #well #its thirsting hours i guess lmao #ofc as soon as i finish the breastfeeding fic i suddenly have energy to write everything #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction #homelander smut #fic request

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brain4stew · 1 month ago

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forsaken killers with a deceased so perchance

Anon… Do you like angst?? ☹️💔

But alr then…

(Again, I don’t know the characters exact personalities and so on, so they might, if not most likely will be OOC!!)

‼️ WARNING; ANGST ‼️

HEADCANONS/SOMETHING UNDER THE CUT!! ;

(1x1x1x1)

• Ah yes, the embodiment of hatred… Having yet another thing to fuel his hatred.

• You were a great, respectful and caring s/o. (*COUGH* In his mind, spouse. *COUGH*)

• He loved you, dearly. He still does, even though you aren’t with him anymore.

• He keeps a minion close to him, when he’s back in the killer lobby. The minion in question? Being you.

• He has used necromancy on you, to keep you by him. Even if you’re now just a minion, who attacks survivors…

• In rounds, he’s filled with pure hatred, as he always is. If one of the survivors even remotely looks, or acts like you, he’ll pause for a moment, before mercilessly killing them. Pretty harshly.

• How dare a mere mortal survivor, act and look even remotely close to you?! IN FRONT OF HIM. NO LESS.

• Whenever that happens, he’s showing no mercy, whatsoever to anyone and everyone.

• Back in the killer lobby, he immediately seeks out your minion self. Hesitantly hugging, holding and kissing you.

• He wishes that you didn’t have to go… But, he couldn’t do much about your death, could he…?

(John Doe)

• Ah, John Doe. He knows you don’t have a high life expectancy, however…

• His corruption only worsened when you were gone.

• WHERE DID YOU GO?! PLEASE… You are one of the few people who can calm his corruption down…

• In rounds he’s killing every survivor he can, not caring about them at all.

• He does hesitate when someone acts or looks like you, but he kills them nonetheless, when his corruption spirals.

• Foul vermin survivors.

• In the killer lobby, he immediately goes to his specified room, looking at the picture of you.

• You were so happy, smiling, and holding his corrupted hands, before they became too dangerous to touch…

• Although he doesn’t remember much, and forgets quite a bit, he’ll still always love you. You were the perfect s/o…

(Jason)

• Jason, Jason… A mama’s boy, really…

• His mother took an interest in you first, as you were always kind to him back in ‘51.

• Jason, was always quiet, but trusted his mother’s words about you.

• You both were a picture perfect couple. You didn’t bother to pry into his history, because you loved him, as he is.

• Why I’m saying that you “loved him”, as if you don’t anymore you may ask? Well, it’s because you’re dead.

• Jason now has yet another reason to kill survivors, as it was one of them, that killed you.

• He doesn’t understand why they’d kill someone he cherishes. His mother was already dead, and he can still hear her, and follows with what she says…

• But why did they kill you?

• He’s killing every survivor, in cold blood. Not a single one survives him, whatsoever.

• If there’s a survivor that looks or acts like you, he’ll pause, before his mother tells him, and reminds him that; you’re dead. You’re gone. To kill the survivors.

• He does so. Killing them all.

• Back in the killer lobby, he goes to his specified room. Going to his mother, (if you haven’t seen friday 13th, then idk if you know what I’m talking about…) and talks to her. Hell, he even keeps your body near his mother.

• It’s so he knows you’re not going to be taken away from him or his mother. He still loves you, a lot.

(Mafioso)

• This prick. This guy, absolutely adores you. He was the first one to tell you his feelings.

• You accepted of course. You didn’t pry into his work either, you figured it out yourself, due to how he was dressed. (You thought he was one of those cliche mafia guys. Which he is.)

• Whenever he has to chase the ones in the dream land, due to their debt there, he’ll always have one or two of his men staying by you at all times.

• That was a terrible idea however.

• One of his “trustworthy” men… Killed you. Why? Perhaps the guy thought you were just a distraction to his boss.

• Mafioso, of course killed the guy out of anger and revenge for you.

• He kept your body in those freezing cubicles in his room. He doesn’t trust his men after what happened. He only trusts his boss, Eunoia. To be near you, and watch over your body, in case of any fractures on you.

• In rounds, he’s pissed off everytime. Someone looks and acts almost exactly like you… What a fucking vermin of a survivor.

• He kills every and all survivors. Hell, he lets them all know that he doesn’t take kindly to anyone looking, or even acting like you.

• By that, I mean he broke several bones of the said survivor that looked and acted similar to you. ♡

• Back in the killer lobby, or, the shared lobby of him and his boss. He immediately goes to his room, where Eunoia is also.

• He constantly asks how you’re doing, as if you’re awake, and will be awake soon. (You won’t…)

• Eunoia always tells him to calm the fuck down, and tells him every update she has about your body, as you’re in the freezing cubicle.

• Mafioso looks at you in the freezing cubicle, savoring, smiling faintly, and even loving the way you look. Even when dead, you’re still a beauty in his eyes…

(Help, I just noticed that 1x’s and Mafioso’s have way more texts than the other two killers 😦 I think I love Mafioso and 1x too much…)

#roblox forsaken x reader #forsaken roblox x reader #forsaken x reader #1x1x1x1 x reader #dreamgame x reader #mafioso x reader #jason x reader #john doe x reader #brain4stew/l i n’s work‼️

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girlboypersonthingy · 1 year ago

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Hi again, I'm the awkward anon (lol)

So I had this scenario in mind and even though I'm new to this fandom, I haven't found anything similar.

So, reader (gn) is Lucifer's partner and is a fallen angel too, but not as powerful. During the final battle they fight with Adam, and just when he is about to eliminate them, Lucifer arrives and saves them and goes full demon mode.

You're obviously not obligated to write it, and please take your time!! Thank you🥰

AWKWARD ANON, YOU GENIUS 😍 I’m in love with this prompt oh my god. And thank you for being so polite, what a gentleman, what a lady, what a scholar. Enjoyyyy!

Notes: gn!reader, fallen angel!reader, reader has their wings still, reader is sort of a parental figure for Charlie

TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing

Lucifer x reader- To the Rescue 🎇

It had been a long, grueling battle so far and watching Sir Pentious disappear into nothing within just a split second brought tears to everyone’s eyes. “Ugh! Razzle, Dazzle!” Charlie summons her fuzzy companions who magically morph into giant, elegantly fierce dragons.

You stood beside the others as you watched Charlie and Vaggie charge forward towards Adam on Razzle and Dazzle, the entire group cheering them on before continuing the battle against the exorcists. Upon seeing Vaggie and Dazzle fall at the hands of Lute, your eyes then land on Charlie next, a cry of worry leaving your mouth as you watch Adam smack Charlie so hard she goes flying into the lights of the hotel sign. “Charlie!” Using your wings, you race to get to her, dodging other angels as you fly. You had no time to waste- sure Charlie is powerful but Adam is quite the equal match. If anything, you worry that he will conquer her if she fights him alone.

The moment you step foot on the roof of the hotel you take a moment to watch as Charlie stabs Adam with her weapon and swings it around, sending him crashing down as she glares at him. “That’s princess of hell to you, pig.” Despite the tense and scary situation, a proud smile grows on your face as you watch her. “I’m here. I’m with you.” Your words grab her attention and she smiles at you before you both raise your weapons up in defense.

“Ah! I see another traitor has come to die, huh?” Adam teases you as he gets back to his feet, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Long time, no see, babe. So this is what you’re up to since you fell? Hm, you seem to fit right in with these idiots.” As she suddenly charges forward, Adam quickly flies out of the way of Charlie’s attack and instead grabs a hold of her weapon, swinging her around by it and knocking her down again, this time tossing her weapon far aside where she couldn’t reach it. Before you could get between them, Adam hits Charlie hard across the face then raises his angelic weapon above her. Sprinting to Charlie’s side, you manage to stop him in his tracks by putting your weapon up against his, a loud clash of metal sounding between you two. After a few moments of struggling against each other, Adam uses so much force that it brings you to your knees and you watch as your weapon begins to bend and buckle under his. Pushing back against him, you manage to make him stumble back for a moment. Tossing your own weapon aside then grabbing a hold of his weapon with your bare hands and not letting go, you panic as you realize there’s no where else to go and no way you’re getting out of this alive. You just have to hold on and push back for as long as you can.

“NO! Adam, please. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to kill these people. Please…It’s n-not too late-“

Within seconds, Adam has you knocked to the ground right beside Charlie with a brutal punch to the face. “You don’t know anything! I know it’s been a while since you were in heaven with us but things have changed, hun.” Weak and exhausted from the fight, you stay down beside Charlie, even reaching over to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You really think these disgusting vermin can change? HAH! You are so stupid. Even more stupid than I thought you were before!” Adam crouches down to get a closer look at your bruised face covered in streams of gold blood.

You saw your chance and took it without hesitation, reaching forward to grab Adam by his clothes and slam him down to the ground. “I’m not stupid, you asshole!” The words come as a guttural scream from you as his back hits the hard ground. As fast as you can, you climb on top of him, straddling his waist as you begin landing blow after blow to his face. After only a few hits, his mask falls off and clatters to the ground beside him. “You’re disgusting! What kind of angel are you?!” And before you can get another punch in, he has you by the throat. His fingers dig in to your skin, his face now matching yours with patches of gold blood staining it. It made you feel somewhat proud to know that you made those marks on him.

You continue swinging on him but to no avail, he just won’t let up on your neck and your chest is starting to burn from the lack of oxygen. Finally, your hands find his, frantic fingers trying to pry his off of you as you gasp for air. “(Y/N)!” Charlie scrambles forward to try and stop Adam with a fierce expression on her face but it only takes him a second to remove one hand from your neck and latch it onto hers with deadly force. With your throat in one hand and Charlie’s throat in the other, Adam squeezes with all his strength, making your vision start to go dark and fuzzy. “A-Adam. P-please…” you squeak out, still trying to get his hand to loosen up. Your wings pop out again, trying to flap and get you away from him but he had such a strong hold on you. You suddenly worry that Charlie’s whines and choking beside you will be the last thing you ever hear.

“This fight was cute and all, but it’s time to die with the rest of them.” He uses his leverage on your neck to pull your face close to his. “Im glad you fell. You didn’t deserve to be up there with someone like me. You’re just a stupid little-“

Without another word, Adam was flung to the side by a hard punch from a suddenly appearing Lucifer. The blow had you swiftly dropping to your feet before Lucifer catches you, kneeling down as he cradles you and Charlie gently. “I’m so sorry I’m late, my darlings.” He looks back and forth between you and Charlie with apologetic and loving eyes. “Are my loves okay?” Charlie nods with a sweet smile towards her father while you give him a smirk and a wink. “Took you long enough.” You teasingly reply as Adam finally crawls his way back to the fight.

“Hmmph! Ugh…how man of you freaks do I have to fight?”

“Oh I’m the only one that matters. See, you messed with my daughter and my partner and now, I am going TO FUCK YOU!” You actually face palm as Charlie steps closer to her dad with an embarrassed look on her face. “It’s ’fuck you up’, dad…” “Wait, what did I say?”

As Luci and Adam fight and soar around in the red sky above you, Lucifer shape shifting and bullying Adam, you notice Charlie running to help Vaggie who was still fighting with Lute. Just as you began running to assist her, Adam hit the entire hotel with an extremely powerful blast, slicing the whole building into two. You trip backwards, thankfully avoiding the huge canyon that had formed in the middle of the hotel. All you can do is watch with fearful eyes as Charlie goes falling down into the deep pit, Lucifer chasing after her with impeccable speed. In just seconds, he catches her and circles around back to check on you.

“I got you.” “Dad, look out!” You flinch as Adam approaches but fortunately, the two demons with you were prepared and countered his attack, Charlie sending Adam crashing down to the hard asphalt. Lucifer then scoops you up and holds you and Charlie up in each of his arms as if you weigh nothing, then he flies all three of you into the air together. You couldn’t help but admire both of their passion, their anger and burning hate for Adam radiating off them. Charlie looks so much like her father and Lucifer looks so protective- both of them with glowing red eyes, horns fully protruded from their heads, tails wild and whipping behind them.

“You come at me and my family?! Don’t forget-“ In the blink of an eye, Lucifer has cautiously set both of you down before rushing to Adam. “You’re in my house, bitch!” Within seconds, Lucifer has reduced Adam to a golden bloody pulp as you watch, arms crossed and a vengeful smile on your face. “Whoa, whoa! Dad!” Charlie grabs her father’s shoulder and gains his attention. “He’s had enough…”

Lucifer complies with his daughter’s pleas and retreats back with you and the rest of the group as Adam crawls forward, whining and bitching about how cool he is and how he started all of mankind and blah blah blah. Lucifer’s hand slips into yours and his other finds Charlie’s hand. Just as you think you’ve heard enough of Adam’s bullshit ranting, he stops very abruptly and falls to the ground to reveal Nifty to be the one who finally took down Adam. Of course the entire group was shocked but relieved nonetheless.

“Oh, damn.” You can’t help but pity Lute as she begs Adam to get up and cries over his slowly dying body. “It’s over.” Charlie spits out as she stands beside a beaten up Vaggie. “Now take your little friends AND GO HOME! Please~” Lucifer growls out.

Lucifer watches as the exorcists retreat before he heads over to bring you and Charlie into a crushingly tight group hug. “I’m so glad my babies are okay. I love you both so much.” “I love you too, dad.” Charlie replies as she smiles, her eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, too, Luci.” He pulls away and sweeps your hair out of your face before letting out a soft sigh. “I can’t ever thank you enough for protecting my little girl.” All you can offer him is a smile and dreamy eyes. “She’s like a daughter to me. She’s our daughter. I love her just as much as you.” And this time, you initiate the group hug, cherishing the feeling of knowing both of them are safe and in your arms.

And Lucifer couldn’t be more happy and proud of his family. He’s so thankful to have both of you in his life now and he feels truly blessed to have you both safe with him again.

#lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x y/n #lucifer x you #hazbin lucifer #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin x reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 18 days ago

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Can you do one where reader is a 5th lord and also used to be in a relationship with Donna. Their breakup was pretty nasty between them and the tension is always thick at meetings or anywhere else but reader is still in love with Donna. One night reader decides to go Donna to talk but then it turns to makeup/hate sex and they decide to get back together.

P.a thank you for your Donna stories I love your writing so much!

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

I can't hate you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, 5th Lord! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI, fluff, angst, Donna being Donna

Word count: 6,890

Summary: You knew she hated you, but you still love her...

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

“Damn,” you lamented, pushing away from the table and sinking onto the couch. “Great, a meeting is just what I needed.”

The afternoon light streaming through the window was sad, or so it seemed. Everything had seemed sad and empty since that day.

Living in that village couldn't be synonymous with joy and jubilation, but at least you saw some meaning, some harmony in the snow, in the black birds crossing the cloudy sky, in your own existence.

You never asked for mercy, pity, or salvation from the monotonous life you lived. Your family left a long time ago, leaving only the memory of their past. They were nobles, yes, charged with protecting and caring for the forest that kept the village a secret from prying eyes.

You'd heard stories of nobility, of a renowned family name associated with you, but you always knew that it wouldn't guarantee you a better life, at least not in a place like that. Of all that was once your family, only you remained, isolated in what was once a mansion, and now only partially habitable ruins.

You were happy; you didn't need help, but still, you got it.

Mother Miranda saw something in you, something she herself had overlooked for the past 20 years, something that, according to the witch, the Gods whispered to her. Well, you weren't particularly happy in your solitude, and the winter cold would eventually kill you.

How could you have refused the hand she offered you?

As in many fictional stories, it wasn't unconditional help; it was a pact with the devil, a silent agreement that would take much more than your soul. You remembered the pain, the sensation of watching life slip through your fingers… You remembered the Cadou writhing before entering your body.

Then, the light came.

As if it were a religious scripture, you rose from that old stretcher, disoriented but radiant, much stronger, different…

(Y/N) had died, but from her ashes Lady (Y/N) was reborn, a new servant of Mother Miranda, the Fifth Lord. Your family's noble past influenced the priestess's decision to include you in the village's decisions, to add a picture of you to the altar of the old chapel.

If it hadn't been for your family's past… what would have become of you?

You preferred not to answer that question.

A gift from the Gods, or so Miranda called the subtle changes in your appearance. Yes, you would remain 20 for the rest of your life, paying a price: marks on your face that resembled the roots of a tree, which you would make sense of soon after.

Around your dilapidated home, flowers began to bloom and the orchard began to bear fruit long before its time as well as the trees seemed to move, to twist as you passed by them. That was the power your new status gave you, the price of eternal life, and the tireless duty to protect the village and maintain the loyalty to Mother Miranda.

The Fifth Lord, the youngest of all, but not the strangest. Unlike your new “siblings”, you decided to use your gifts to help the poor villagers you had once been part of. Destroyed crops, infertile lands, vermin that fed on the labor of others... These began to be your responsibilities, and thanks to your skill, you managed to make the local inhabitants thank the Gods and Mother Miranda for their survival.

You tried, for a weak moment, to relate to your old friends like before, but nothing was the same, nor would it ever be. The excessive respect and fear towards you were unbearable, and you soon understood that your place in that world of darkness had changed irrevocably.

Of course, the rest of the Lords accepted you without question, teaching you your duties, accompanying you on this new path in your life. But as the years passed, those people you once feared became friends, almost family, as Miranda liked to say.

Everything would have been perfect if you hadn't fallen in love with one of them, with the lady in black who gave you nightmares as a child, the ventriloquist, Donna Beneviento.

The cold felt much more piercing than usual, and part of your young personality reproached you for not having given the priestess an excuse to avoid that meeting.

You knew Donna would be there, faithful, but cold as ever. The villagers bowed and greeted you respectfully, but your head was far from the road, right next to her, remembering everything you had experienced together, everything that had happened between Lady Beneviento and you.

But this wasn't the time to remember, but to act, to pretend that nothing that could alter the status quo in which the five of you lived was happening, nothing that could disturb the peace, the control that Mother Miranda had over you.

“(Y/N), it's been a while,” a seductive voice echoed off the stone walls leading to the underground cathedral. It was Lady Dimitrescu, the most senior Lord, and the one who enjoyed being so the most.

“Alcina,” you greeted politely, earning one of her dark smiles.

You knew she was speaking to you, that she was saying something, but you didn't listen. Your eyes fixed on the figure sitting at the back of the room, the black figure who had once been your beloved, Donna.

Your heart stopped for a moment as you walked to your seat, one next to hers, as if fate were laughing at you.

“Donna,” you sighed in a timid greeting, trying not to tremble, not to remember anything that had happened in the past few months and to appear serious and authoritative, something truly complicated when your senses recognized that scent of lavender, that scent that brought back so many memories.

The lady in black didn't move, although you knew that behind the black veil lay a gaze fixed on you. The fabric danced as she turned away from your gaze, denying you even the slightest greeting.

“Don't talk to us, silly,” the Angie doll, Donna's faithful companion, rested on her lap, directing those harsh words towards you. “You silly, silly…”

“Hi, Angie, you look well,” you said, making an effort to separate the doll from its owner, to make a distinction between doll and woman, believing maybe that way you wouldn't feel so hurt.

“Shut up, tree-hugger,” the doll replied as the lady shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “What part of I don't want to talk to you don't you understand?”

“Ugh, okay,” you said, slumping into your seat and crossing your arms as you vaguely nodded to the rest of your siblings, who seemed very attentive, too attentive.

“Welcome, children,” Mother Miranda said, extending her arms at the altar, giving a silent start to that awkward meeting. “Reports.”

One by one, you gave reports of your work, of your discreet lives to the priestess. Surely she cared about nothing but knowing that no one would betray her. Sometimes you feared her, other times you hated her.

Over all those years, you had felt many things for Miranda: admiration, affection, fear... but it didn't take long for you to know her true heart, to discover that Mother Miranda only cared about Mother Miranda.

Of course, you weren't the only one with that point of view, something that made you befriend Heisenberg, but it was irrelevant. No matter what that woman looked like, she had given you those powers, eternal life… You should be grateful, right?

“Why don't you sit somewhere else? You're making me nervous,” a husky whisper reached your ears as the lady next to you moved.

It had been so long since you'd heard Donna's sweet voice that you jumped, a smile crossing your face before your brain could interpret her hurtful words. You opened your mouth to answer, but shook your head, sighing.

“Sorry, this happens to be my spot,” you said in a sour tone, a tone that was totally different from what you really felt, but that your pride couldn't suppress.

“Sciocchezze, you have much more room on that side,” Donna replied, looking away, as if looking at you was painful for her too.

“I'm not going to get up from my spot because it annoys you,” you whispered, with a haughty look on your face. “You should move instead.”

“No”

“Fine, then don't complain,” you said with a wry smile. “Shut up, you're not letting me listen”

“Are you telling me to shut up?” the lady in black said with a gasp of surprise. “You?”

“I don't know why you're surprised... Oh, of course, you were usually the one who has that right, weren’t you?” you quipped making the lady clench her fists in her lap and the Angie doll giggle discreetly.

“Chuidi il becco, I don't want to hear or see you, you're annoying me,” Donna protested, turning her head away from you again, visibly nervous, just like you.

“You started it,” you said in a satisfied whisper, ending this absurd argument, the last thing you needed. “If I'm annoying you that much, sit down there.”

“I'm not moving from here,” the dollmaker stated. “This has been my seat longer than you've been alive.”

“Well, we have a problem then,” you challenged, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms, pretending to listen to Miranda again.

“Mannaggia...” the lady hissed, shifting in her seat, cradling Angie so her laughter wouldn't attract attention.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” the doll mocked, reprimanded by her owner, who moved as far away from you as possible.

You groaned and shook your head again, breathing increasingly ragged, nervous, and tense.

“…that's why we must make the villagers...” Miranda's speech entered your ears, but all you could think about was the lavender, Donna, that woman you once loved, and who was now just a stranger to you.

“By the way, stupida,” the brunette whispered again, leaning towards you mockingly. “You left a dress at my house, that pretty dress I made you.”

“Hmm,” you murmured, not paying much attention to her. “I'll go get it.”

“Don't even think about coming near my house,” Donna replied, her knuckles white from the pressure. “Don't bother trying to get it back. I burned it in the fireplace.”

“Great, how mature of you,” you said amused, with a sarcastic smile.

“Ladies... I can't believe it,” Miranda's voice sounded much closer, her tone warning, a warning, like her gaze, directed at you.

You both lowered your heads, realizing that every eye in the room was on you. Your argument hadn't been as discreet as it seemed.

“I'm sorry, Mother,” you whispered, bending down to show regret.

“You're like little girls,” the priestess complained, her gaze piercing and menacing. “If you're done arguing, may I continue with the meeting?”

“It was (Y/N)!” Angie shrieked, pointing at you accusingly with a nasty squeak. “She's bothering my Donna!”

“Gods...” Miranda whispered, resting her fingers on her temples.

“What? That's a lie,” you protested, standing up from your chair. “Mother Miranda, I...”

“Silence! Stop acting like irrational teenagers and pay attention... You're exhausting,” the witch shrieked. “Do I have to act like a mother? You, (Y/N), sit over there,” she ordered, pointing at the bench Alcina was occupying.

Growling and giving Donna one last furious look, you obeyed, ignoring Angie's taunts, who seemed pleased with her absurd victory.

“Mm, dear...” Alcina murmured when the tension dissipated, lighting a cigarette. “How long are you going to keep this up?”

“What? I didn't do anything,” you protested, paying more attention to Miranda to avoid another reprimand. “She's the one who...”

“What a pity,” sighed the lady in white, shaking her head. “You two made such a lovely couple...”

“Yeah,” you said dryly, unable to avoid glancing sideways at the lady in black, who seemed, only seemed, to be doing the same.

“You tarnish the name of love with your childish behavior, my dear. Can't you give each other a second chance?” Alcina whispered, much more discreetly, taking advantage of Miranda's distraction with Moreau. You shrugged, not taking your eyes off that black veil.

“I'd love to, but it's impossible. She... she doesn't want to listen to me,” you confessed, revealing that those feelings you had for Donna were still there, that they had never left.

“Poor Donna, I still don't know what you did to her...”

“I didn't do anything,” you protested immediately, clenching your fists in the same way as your former lover. “It was all because of her stupid jealousy.”

“Um, of course, your lack of patience with someone like her had nothing to do with it, right?” the lady in white chided you, pretending to listen to the priestess.

“Uh, it’s not...” you said, frowning, but falling silent when Miranda's gray eyes fixed on you again.

“Well, there's always a place in my castle for a beauty like you, my dear, but I wouldn't want to take away from Donna what she considers hers; that would be very wrong, wouldn't it?” the lady of the castle suggested, making a blush spread across your cheeks.

“I wish she would still consider me hers,” you murmured in an imperceptible tone, feeling a pang of pain as you looked again at your beloved, who seemed to be ignoring you.

“Then do something about it, my dear, before your stupid arguments upset Mother Miranda any further. I couldn't bear to lose you both.”

After what felt like an eternity, the meeting came to an end. Of course, you didn't hear any of Miranda's words; all you could think about was your feelings. Maybe Alcina was right, and it was time to fix this mess.

You couldn't think of anything else. You dreamed of Donna, you thought of her every moment, of the day you could feel her skin against yours again, the day the whispers of love would once again flow from her lips.

“Donna, wait,” you said, grabbing the lady who passed in front of you, holding her in place.

With a furious gasp, Donna pulled away, scorning your approach, making you swallow your pride and your words sound like a plea.

“Lasciami,” she whispered, turning her back on you while Angie made mocking gestures in your direction.

“Oh, come on, I want to talk to you and...” you insisted with that pathetic, pleading tone, chasing the lady outside.

“I don't want to talk to you, do you hear me?” she said in a cold tone, causing the rest of the Lords to look at you curiously as they walked. “You're lucky you're a Lord, and that my powers don't affect you.”

“Are you threatening me?” you asked incredulously. “Donna, please, I just want to talk.”

“I have nothing to talk to you about,” the lady said, ignoring you again and starting to walk away.

“Donna…” you sighed, exhausted, watching her figure disappear into the snow.

At least she'd talked to you, and that was much more than there had been in the last few weeks, but it wasn't enough.

When you met Lady Beneviento, everything was different. Donna was a strange woman about whom you'd heard terrible rumors, but she was still intriguing, interesting.

Your skill with plants had formed a kind of bond with that strange dollmaker, working together on an experiment, on Mother Miranda's orders. Until that moment, you believed what the villagers said about her was true, but little by little, you discovered that those claims were far from reality.

Donna was sick, yes, her mind had been damaged since birth, and it worsened after losing her family in a terrible way, but… But the word "monster," with which your old friends defined her, differed quite a bit from what you could see.

Intelligent, elegant, sweet… Those were the adjectives your mind formed every time you saw her, spent time with her. Her shy laugh became an addiction for you; her hands were the only thing you could think about when you returned home.

Like a romance book, a movie that spoke of an impossible love, that curious friendship you developed became a need as pressing as breathing. You discovered the true woman hidden behind that black veil, the beautiful woman that was Donna Beneviento, learning about her concerns, her story, her tastes…

Afternoon tea was almost obligatory, and a wide smile spread across your face as her voice seduced you with beautiful words, with a honeyed accent that stirred your whole body. Donna was sick, yes, she had problems, but you were always there to solve them, to calm her madness with words of affection, with love.

And finally, you managed to see her face, the beauty hidden behind that horrible black cloth. The deformity that adorned her skin was a trifle compared to the delicacy of her features, the brilliance of her single eye.

She was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.

Then, one day, a day you couldn't remember since time ceased to have meaning for someone immortal like you, your lips tasted the softness of hers, melting into a kiss, a first kiss of love.

You thought love wasn't meant for someone like you, but you were completely wrong. No one stopped you from loving each other, no one stopped two Lords from finding solace in eternal kisses, in promises of love, of affection, in nights of passion.

She used the flowers, you made them grow. If it weren't for your sad past, you'd think you were always destined to be by her side. The roots that ran through your face were a reflection of her scar.

Everything was perfect; your life was full of love, affection, lavender... But it didn't last forever. A few months after leaving your old mansion and moving in with her, the problems began.

You knew her madness, her sick mind, but the more time you spent with her, the more evident her problems became.

Your duties as a Lord still existed, and that included visits to the castle and the factory. Being a sociable girl, you always offered to be a sort of messenger for Mother Miranda, and you never paid attention to it. Donna did.

You knew about her jealousy, even before a romantic relationship, but it reached limits that became unbearable. No matter how many times you said nothing had happened at the castle, that the three Dimitrescu sisters were just playing at seducing you.

Donna never believed you, and that began to take its toll. It was the beginning of the end.

An argument, an absurd argument, led to the end of the love of your life. You tried to reason with her, but you couldn't, and that drove you to despair, forcing you to do something crazy: to leave the Beneviento estate forever.

Your breakup was widely reported in the village and among the rest of the Lords. No one said anything at first, but you could feel their glances, their accusations that you were the one to blame. Donna never spoke about it, but as time passed, the tension seemed to grow even more intense.

That meeting wasn't the only one in which Mother Miranda had to reprimand you; there were many more, many Masses cut short because of the lady in black's irrational hatred for you. It was an increasingly untenable situation, and the worst part was that you had always, always loved her, and you continued to do so.

“I don't know how to dance; I'll be terrible at it,” you said nervously, taking the hand she offered you.

“Relax, tesoro, I'll show you," she whispered, gently grabbing your waist, moving you to the rhythm of a beautiful song.

The memories continued to haunt your mind when you got home; the flowers that adorned your old mansion were beginning to wither. All of nature seemed to take pity on you, and you couldn't, and wouldn't, do anything about it.

“Hey!” you protested, wiping the flour from your face. “I thought you were going to teach me how to cook!”

“It was Angie,” Donna said amused, starting a flour fight full of kisses, laughter, love, passion...

“Shit, Donna,” you complained, clutching one of her many love letters that she sent you through her doll, one of those small joys that always waited under your door.

Your thumb ran over the ink, the elegant handwriting of those old-fashioned letters in a language you didn't know. Sadness affected the trees, the plants; your heartbeat seemed like echoes of a better time, one where her lips could soothe any sorrow.

“Alcina's right,” you murmured to yourself, folding the note and putting it in a small box filled with all those painful memories. “I can't forget her, I have to do something.”

It was risky, but you had to try.

The dark forest shuddered with every step you took toward the path, as if aware of your intentions, of the love you hoped to feel again. You had to talk to her, try to reason with her sick mind so she'd understand that you loved her long before you met her, before you kissed her, and that you would always do.

“Okay, let's see...” you said to yourself when you arrived at the waterfall mansion, wondering what you would say, what words you would use in your defense. “No, not that...” you denied, going down the front steps, unable to concentrate.

The sound of the water brought new memories to your mind, clouding your judgment even more, making the idea of returning home sound better and better in your head.

“I don't know what I'm doing. She'll never forgive me,” you whispered, rubbing your eyes, going back down the steps. Maybe the next day you would try again.

A beam of light stopped your steps, along with a creaking sound you knew too well. The mansion door opened slowly, forming a dark figure in the snow, a terrifyingly recognizable one.

“(Y/N)” Donna's voice reached your ears, causing you to turn around, going completely blank.

“Donna...” Was the only thing you could say, nerves preventing your voice from coming out naturally. “Donna, I... How did you know I was here?”

“Fiori...” she whispered, crossing her arms and turning around.

“Flowers?” you asked confused, to which Donna stopped, turning her veiled head and making an unexpected gesture for you, one that seemed to indicate that you should follow her. “What...?”

“Are you just going to stand there? Vieni,” she demanded when you didn't respond.

“Fine,” you said, shaking your head and following your former lover into the mansion.

Everything was just as you remembered. The musty smell brought memories back to your mind and the portrait on the stairs stirred your nerves, sending a familiar warmth over your skin. You felt at home, but the most painful thing was that it never would be again.

“There,” the lady murmured, pointing to a vase in the entryway, one with flowers that shone brightly, as if they had just sprouted. “Those flowers were dried, and their revival could only mean one thing: that you were nearby.”

“Oh,” you nodded, rubbing your hands together. “I guess knowing I was coming kept you from kicking me off your property, huh?”

“Hmm, I've had a few minutes to get ready,” Donna replied, crossing her arms. “I guess you're here for your dress.”

“I thought you burned it,” you whispered cautiously, studying the posture of the woman in black, approaching slowly.

“No,” she said, her voice cold and dry.

“Um, okay... erm...” you stammered, scratching the back of your neck, unsure of what to say, how to bring love back into those walls. “Donna, that's not necessary,” you said, approaching her, ready to remove the black veil, something she rejected by moving away from you.

“Don't touch me,” she growled, making you grit your teeth.

“Oh, come on, you're a beautiful woman, Donna. I've told you a hundred times. Do you really have to put on that hideous thing to talk to me?” you said, trying unsuccessfully to push the black fabric away.

“You also told me you'd never leave me,” the woman replied, moving further away from you, her tone spiteful. “You lied to me, (Y/N).”

“Ugh,” you gasped, opening your mouth but unable to find the words. “I wish I could talk to you like two normal people. Do you think you can do that?” you demanded, insisting, finally managing to pull back the black fabric and see her beauty once more.

“Lasciami!” Donna squealed, her one eye shining, red from crying. “Have you come to humiliate me?”

“No!” you squealed back, pushing the veil out of her reach. “I came to talk to you, Donna.”

“Parlare? What do you want to talk about, (Y/N)? I have nothing to talk to you about, I told you... give it back to me,” she demanded, reaching out her hand, starting a pointless fight over the veil.

Patience...

The lady of the castle's words, those accusatory ones, made you give up, returning the veil to Donna just as the situation was starting to get out of hand.

“Ugh, you're insufferable,” you protested, shaking your head as she pondered putting her veil back on. Finally, she decided to leave it, even though her gaze hurt you, the hatred in her eye piercing you mercilessly.

“So, why did you come to my house? To tell me how insufferable I am?” she asked ironically, dropping the fabric to the floor and kicking it nervously.

“Ugh, can't you forget your stupid pride for a moment? I'm the one who's come to talk to you,” you complained again, chasing the lady, who seemed to be comically running away from you, around the mansion. “Unbelievable, now you're running away from me?”

“Do you think I would run away from someone like you?” the lady said, a sinister smile on her face, leaning against the dining room table. “I could have you throw off the cliff, (Y/N)”

“That's funny,” you said haughtily, walking toward her in a petulant manner. “I'm not some villager you can manipulate at will, Donna. We're on the same level, remember?”

“Hm, I don't know what Mother Miranda saw to name you a Lord,” Donna murmured in a low but arrogant tone. “You would have been better off as a concubine of the castle.”

“And you would have been better off as the lunatic dollmaker you were before Miranda took pity on you,” you replied, hurt by her words, slightly regretting it, but standing your ground, taking a breath. “It's absurd, Donna, it's absurd that we continue arguing like this.”

“No, (Y/N), or rather, Lady (Y/N),” Donna said, raising her eyebrow. “You are Lady (Y/N), I am Lady Beneviento. You better respect me.”

“Yes, of course,” you said in a mocking tone. “Excuse me, Lady Beneviento, but you didn't call me that way when we were making love, remember?”

“Oh, you mean before you betrayed me? Stupida...” the lady hissed, clearly offended by your comment.

“I never betrayed you,” you whispered in a dark tone, glancing sideways at some plants that seemed to be ruffled by your nerves, making you take a deep breath and try to relax. “I've told you every way I could, but you never listened.”

“You mean you lied to me every way you could,” Donna corrected.

“Ugh, you're...”

“Hey, you two!” Angie interrupted the argument, comically walking over to the dining room table. “Will you all just shut up? You're annoying!”

“Get out, Angie!” you shrieked in unison, causing the doll to flee in terror.

“How dare you address Angie in that tone?” Donna snarled, approaching you and grabbing the collar of your dress. “Show more respect. You may be a Lord, but you don't want to make me angry.”

“Mm, I know,” you said, removing her hand from your clothes with a gasp, but remaining calm. “I know you, Donna, better than you think.”

“Congratulazioni, (Y/N)...” she hissed, pulling away slightly, but maintaining a furious glare.

“Yeah, whatever,” you sneered, straightening your clothes. “Oh, where did that Lady (Y/N) go? Who's disrespecting me now?”

“You don't deserve my respect, stupida; you betrayed me, you cheated on me!” the lady shrieked, stamping her foot again, echoing off the mansion walls.

“I never cheated on you! You were the one who imagined it all! You and your stupid paranoia!”

Donna fell silent, but soon after, she laughed mockingly, nervously, shaking her head.

“You still have the nerve to deny what happened at the castle. You're bold, I'll give you that,” she murmured, turning her back on you with a tired sigh.

“Nothing happened at the castle,” you said, lowering your tone as well, approaching the lady slowly. “Nothing happened between Daniela and me.”

“I saw the way she looked at you! How she tried to seduce you!” the lady in black exclaimed, turning around, making you back away again. “I may be sick, but I'm not blind, (Y/N).”

“You only saw what you wanted to see, Donna,” you said, trying to calm down, trying not to get intoxicated by the lavender. “You know exactly what those girls are like. I'd never...”

“You'd never what?” she interrupted, without moving away from you, facing you directly. “You'd never leave me?”

“If I left, it was because you didn’t listen to me,” you defended yourself, easing the argument a bit, but maintaining the same tension. “It was impossible to reason with you.”

“You broke my heart. I guess I should have made you a hot bath to clean your filthy body, filthy with your betrayal, vero?” she said in a sour tone, leaning closer and pointing at you.

“You still think I cheated on you,” you said, unsure if it was for Donna, or for yourself. “You never trusted me, Donna.”

“How can I trust you?” the lady asked, waving her arms wildly. “You're... you're a beautiful girl. Everyone wants you. I-I can't stand the way they looked at you, wanting to taste you, to steal your warmth from my body.”

“You're beautiful too,” you said, bringing your hand to her cheek, a gesture she, of course, rejected with a sad moan, looking at you with a moist eye. “And that doesn't mean I think every person who comes near you wants to sleep with you, Donna. Your jealousy was completely irrational.”

“Irrational... che divertente...” she whispered, frowning, unable to meet your gaze. “That stupid girl tried to kiss you. Do you really think that's irrational?”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, seeing some light in that dark argument.

“I'm not one of your dolls, Donna. I can act on my own, you know?” you stated, your voice confident. “Did you not think for a moment I'd pull away?”

The lady in black hesitated, speechless, and quickly approached, grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you into a passionate, unpredictable kiss, but one that gave you the warmth you were missing.

“Donna...” you sighed, placing your hand on your assaulted lips.

“See? You haven't pulled away,” she said with a satisfied smile, leaning back on the table.

“Sure I haven’t,” you said, moving closer again. “I haven't pulled away because... because I wanted you to kiss me.”

“I don't believe you,” Donna whispered, your lips very close to hers again, her eye closed and a tear running down her cheek.

“I don't need you to believe me, just for you to kiss me again,” you sighed, now attacking her lips, kissing her passionately, letting yourself be carried away by that spark her accusatory kiss ignited in your heart.

“You just want to... tempt me,” she said among kisses, grabbing your waist, your dress, your face... running her fingers along the roots of your cheeks while your tongues played tirelessly, reaffirming how much you had missed each other.

“Did I succeed?” you asked, amused, moving your hands to her black hair as your bodies danced, wanting to mingle.

“No,” she said, pulling away so she could unbutton your dress, gasping at the effect of her teeth on your neck, her hands beneath your clothes.

“Whatever you say,” you said, shaking your head as your fingers played with the buttons of her black blouse and your leg was manipulated by her nails digging into your skin.

There were no more words, just kisses, just hands roaming over a body they thought they'd lost. The caresses of her soft hands on your skin made you moan, deepening your work on her lips as your legs unconsciously moved toward the sofa.

“You're disrespecting me,” Donna accused you among gasps as your playful hand pushed her onto the sofa, while hers pulled your body to rest on top of hers, your legs on either side of her hips.

“Good,” you said contentedly, cupping her partially exposed breasts, pushing the black fabric of her blouse away from the perfect view of her skin.

She looked at you, but couldn't suppress the instinct to devour you again, to move her hips with yours in a hot, tense dance filled with hate, love, and passion.

“Y-You've always been the weakest Lord, (Y/N),” Donna said, pushing you down from her body as she ripped off your bra with her hand, positioning herself on top of you, dominating you.

“That's not what I think,” you whispered, biting her ear, causing her to protest with a moan as you squeezed one of her now-exposed breasts, throwing the fabric that protected them across the room. “I bet you're dying for me to do it.”

“You're dying,” she accused you, hitting the couch as your hand slid up her skirt, touching the soft skin of her legs, making her even more nervous. “You tricked me into being at your mercy, and it's the opposite, (Y/N).”

“Mm, I suppose you're saying that because you're on top, right? I know it's not what you like, Donna,” you challenged, placing one of your legs between her thighs, making the lady in black falter, shivering at the contact. “I think you like being at my mercy...”

“Maybe in your dreams,” Donna said, moving quickly to remove the friction and tearing off your underwear with a sharp tug, sinking her hand into your already damp folds. “But they're just dreams, (Y/N)”

“Donna...” you moaned helplessly as her slender fingers skillfully ran over your body, circling your clit, making you lose your composure, forcing you to moan.

“Così bagnata...” the dollmaker whispered, sinking two fingers into your entrance without warning, still looking at you, letting you know she was in charge. “Now you realize what you lost.”

“Oh,” you moaned, fighting to keep your legs from moving too much from the contact, pulling the brunette into a sloppy kiss as she worked her fingers inside you, caressing your walls, curling when she knew you needed it.

“Are you enjoying this, stupida?” she asked, pulling your hair angrily, but not hurting you, forcing you to nod, to focus on her when in reality, you were too immersed in the pleasure you were receiving.

“Shut up,” you said after a deep moan, forcing your body to calm down, making Donna giggle with satisfaction, speeding up her work between your legs. “Have you been practicing since I've been gone?”

“Stupida...” she hissed, tugging at your hair again, sinking her teeth into one of your nipples, making you cry out in pleasurable pain coupled with her almost perfect movements. “I can feel you, (Y/N). I know you're close…”

You shook your head, but your face and your moans were unable to deny her words. Your hips bucked with every movement Donna made, and your lips claimed hers wildly, biting, licking, devouring everything within reach.

Sooner than you would have liked, ecstasy hit you, making your entire body tense, wrapping your walls around her fingers as you cried out in pleasure, squeezing your body against hers, kissing that wonderful lover you had.

“Just like I said, weak,” Donna whispered, sitting up and removing her fingers, forcing you to taste your orgasm, your pleasure.

“Do you think this is over?” you threatened, crawling across the couch before pushing the lady in black back and pinning her with your legs. “No, Donna, this has only just begun.”

“Dare to lay a hand on me...” the lady hissed, as your lips began to caress her skin, your nails scratching her legs, and your ears ignoring her words.

“I won't lay a hand on you,” you said, amused, tugging her panties down her ankles, keeping a firm hand on her chest, making her eye flutter closed.

Your teeth scraped the skin of her thighs, and her hands seemed erratic, tugging at your hair with barely any strength. Your mouth moved up and up until it reached its destination, her wet, intoxicating scent you soon tasted.

“Cazzo...” Donna protested as your lips brushed her skin, as your tongue mercilessly traced her folds, circling her clit, absorbing, enjoying every shy sound her mouth made.

“You're so wet... you're delicious, Donna,” you said in a moment of lucidity, leaving hatred and anger aside, remembering how you enjoyed her body, how you enjoyed nights of passion with her.

“Bugiarda...” the lady accused, pushing your head towards her again, forcing you to continue savoring her essence.

“Am I a liar? Well, then you won't want me to finish you,” you said amusedly, switching your mouth for your hand, stimulating the brunette in a way you knew was irresistible to her.

“If you stop, I'll kill you,” she said in a dark tone, pulling at your hair with a furious look, embarrassed by the pleasure your lips were giving to her.

You pretended not to want to kiss her again, to make her taste herself, to realize there was still something very strong between you. You doubted if it would have served any purpose.

“You can't kill me,” you said, stimulating her clit again, looking over her body, analyzing her expressions of pleasure.

“I advise you to use your mouth for more than just talking, stupida... it's not good for you to defy me,” she told you, pulling at your hair, burying your head between her legs.

“You can't kill me because...” you said, stopping again, caressing her delicious wetness with your fingers, inserting them slowly in her eager walls, making her moan shamefully. “… Because I know you still love me.”

Without waiting for a reply, your tongue ran over her wetness again, forming a subtle rhythm with your fingers, making the lady in black lose control of her language, whisper words you didn't understand, and moan uncontrollably.

“Sto...Sto per...” she said, pushing you away before her back tensed and her thighs squeezed your head tightly, feeling the embrace of her insides, the explosion of pleasure you could feel on your lips.

Neither of you said anything after that. There weren't a word of love, just silence as the two of you dressed slowly, unsure of what had really happened, how that involuntary act of passion had occurred.

“You've got what you wanted, you can go,” Donna said, buttoning her blouse and tucking her skirt into place, without looking at your face.

“You don't understand, Donna, this isn't what I came for,” you said, covering yourself in the same way, walking behind her.

“Oh, you came to talk, didn't you? And get fucked... that's what I've always been to you,” she said in a bitter tone, pushing your lost bra against your chest. “Go, per favore...”

“Donna, please, don't... don't make it so difficult,” you protested, chasing after your elusive lover again. “If you think I'm that way, you don't know me.”

“I thought I knew you... I thought I knew you, tesoro," Donna murmured, wiping a tear from her cheek. “I-It's of no use pretending to hate you. I'd like to hate you, but I can't.”

“Then don't hate me, my love...” you sighed, cupping her face in your hands. “We were both wrong, but...”

“I was wrong about you.”

“Ugh, Donna, please… Stop being so stubborn and listen to me,” you insisted, wiping away your tears as well. “I never, ever cheated on you. I rejected Daniela as soon as I could. That day I just wanted to be back with you. Every time I left, I wanted to be back with you, with the woman I loved and... and still love.”

“You... do you still love me?” she asked, with a different look, gently grabbing your wrists.

“Every day that passes without you is hell, Donna. Eternal life isn't worth it without you,” you confessed, making Donna lower her head. “And I know you feel the same.”

“Io... Io..." she stammered, blinking erratically. “Th-those things I said while we were making love, I'm not… I'm not like that.”

“I know…” you sighed, very close to her lips. “I would have preferred for you to love me like before, to hear you whisper in my ear while you take me…”

“Sono d’accordo,” she sighed, caressing your face, the roots of your cheeks, brushing back your hair, sticky with sweat.

“You agree? Do you mean about sex?” you joked, making her smile as she shook her head.

“No, tesoro… Eternal life is hell without you,” she whispered, before placing her lips on yours, in a different way, salty with tears.

“Let's try again, Donna… I love you.”

“Please, amore mio…”

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

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greenwitchfromthewoods · 2 months ago

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Hi, here is an idea for a plot : marcus is send to kidnap a women because Greta has heard that she is the most beautiful women on earth. He does it but during the travel back they both fall for esch other. Thank you I love your work

Note: Thank you very much for the request, sweet anon. I don't know if I fulfilled it completely, but I hope that I could give you at least a little pleasure with this scribble. I managed to find a moment of time and I wanted to do it. thank you!

Warnings : some violence but not literally, some weird stuff, some romance, some kissing

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

General Marcus Acacius [masterlist]

witch. l General Marcus Acacius

"General!" the young man rushed into his tent and quickly bowed his head. "Forgive me, sir, but we have a problem."

"What kind of problem?" he muttered without even looking up from the map he had spread out on the plain table.

Marcus, out of the corner of his eye, noticed that the man shifted restlessly, until words finally flowed from his lips that forced General Acacius to look at him.

"I think we have some kind of witch in the camp."

His head had been hurting unbearably for several hours. This journey had been completely pointless. Emperor Geta had heard rumors, whispered among other men, that somewhere on the territory of his country was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Greed and lust made him want to possess her, enslave her. After all, only the Emperor should be able to possess someone like that. He deserved it. She was his due.

General Acacius, on the other hand, believed that these rumors were nonsense. A well-concocted tale to mock the Emperor and his stupid greed. He also didn't believe that any woman would consciously and willingly want to enter a cage and be locked up with such a man.

But Marcus had no other choice, because when Geta invited him to his chambers and assigned him this mission, his views no longer counted.

Just as he had done during the war, so now, he found the woman, captured her and was on his way to Rome. However, it was a hard road. And you made sure that each of the soldiers who enslaved you would remember you for a long time.

So you were locked in a carriage, part of the walls of which were bars so that you could at least enjoy a little fresh air or sun. You used it as much as you could.

Marcus stopped in front of the carriage and looked sternly at several men, one of whom threw a bucket of icy water straight at the post standing inside.

"By the gods! What's going on here?!" he roared.

"General!" the men bowed quickly. "This... This is a witch! Ever since we stopped, she's been deceiving our heads and senses, telling such things..."

"I'm telling the truth!" the woman's voice was strong and stubborn. It clearly reached Marcus despite the dull pain in her temples. "And the gods will punish you all! You will grovel under their feet like worthless, filthy vermin!"

Someone splashed water again and they heard a distinct snort. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

The soldiers looked at their commander. A mixture of fear and uncertainty was written on their faces, but Marcus knew perfectly well that in such a state, further travel would be an even more difficult task. Finally, he nodded to the man who had brought him here.

"Release her and bring her to my tent." he ordered.

"But, sir!"

"That's an order. She is to appear there as soon as possible." he added and then went back to his place.

You appeared after a few minutes. The clothes you were wearing were completely soaked, and strands of hair stuck to your face. And although you were shaking like leaves in the wind, rebellion and stubbornness did not disappear from your face. You twitched nervously when he tried to put a rough blanket on your shoulders.

"Calm down, I won't do anything to you." he said quietly. "Sit down, have a drink of wine."

Slender fingers tightened on the material, but finally, with quite a confident step, you moved to the place he indicated. Sweet wine and a few bites of bread occupied you enough that Marcus could calmly look at you. He hadn’t had the opportunity to do so before.

When he took you from your home, chaos reigned. The appearance of a detachment of Romans worried the inhabitants of a nearby village, and you...

Acacius couldn't remember if he had ever seen a woman defend herself so well. One of the soldiers lost a tooth when you hit him in the face with a saucepan you had at hand, and more than one of them had marks from your nails on them. It was only when someone dared to put a cloth bag over your head that your curses and swearing stopped.

Only now could Marcus look at you. Indeed, you were beautiful. However, he didn’t think that your beauty was only in your face or body, you had something in you that he hadn’t seen before.

Incredible stubbornness, pride, but also recklessness since you were not afraid to challenge a group of men on whom your life depended.

"You're staring, soldier." You mumbled, washing down a bite of bread with wine.

Marcus came closer and sat down on a chair close to you. "I'm a general." He said.

You shrugged, though. "You're a soldier. A puppet in the hands of a man who thinks he's a god."

"That man sent me for you." He noticed that you looked at him nervously, like a scared animal. "He's heard rumors about you."

"Rumors." You repeated, dusting off your hands and wrapping the blanket around yourself tighter, because the wet clothes were sticking to your body. "I've seen many more beautiful ones."

"I don't..."

You shook your head, biting your lip. "Don't say that."

You noticed how the general tilted his head, looking at you closely. His dark eyes didn't tear themselves away from you and you didn't like what you were feeling. From the beginning, you felt that something was wrong with this man. He was different. Different from those you knew.

"You expected us to come." The general's voice was low and melodic, a warm shiver ran through your body. "How is that possible? Who warned you?"

"Nobody. Soldier."

You wanted to insult him. You wanted to draw a line and show that you weren't afraid of him, that you despised him. But he just smiled. He stretched his long legs in front of him and folded his arms across his chest.

"My name is Marcus." he said and ignored your snort. "And yours? Or should I call you a witch?"

He noticed how your eyebrows drew together. "I have a name." you replied and gave it to him.

The general played with it for a few moments, rolling it on his tongue, and you hated how good it sounded in his mouth. Finally, he sat up and held out his hand to you. You flinched.

"I won't do anything to you." Marcus smiled gently.

"I'm not afraid of you." you replied. "Neither of you nor any of your soldiers."

When your hand clenched in his, he felt something strange in an instant. A strange warmth flowed through his skin and veins, it hit him straight to his heart. He wanted to relax his fingers and withdraw his hand, but he couldn't. A hot feeling filled him, clearing his mind and thoughts, and the headache... He realized then that he hadn't felt it for a few moments.

You must have felt the same, because your lips parted and your face brightened as if you had suddenly understood a huge secret.

"It’s you..."

"Me?"

You slid off the chair and knelt down in front of him, your eyes fixed on him as if he were the greatest treasure. "I've seen you before. In my dreams. I didn't understand it until the seeress in the temple told me..."

Marcus wanted to touch your face. Colossal fingers clumsily brushed the skin of your cheek, but you didn't seem to feel it, because you were so focused on him.

"She said a man would come and take me away by force. I thought it was a curse..."

"And it isn't? I took you by force, you fought like a lioness."

"But I didn't fight you, I fought your men. And every other man who tried to. That's where the rumors started, which were just nonsense. The gods made fun of us..."

The tip of his finger moved across your lips. They were soft and warm. The thought of tasting them was born in Marcus' head, but he fought it.

"Emperor Geta... That's where I'm taking you."

"Are you sure?"

He wasn't. Geta wouldn't be happy if he met your resistance and Marcus knew that this would quickly turn into a terrible tragedy. He just didn't know who would lose their life first because of this. Marcus closed his eyes for a moment, but behind his eyelids he could still see your face and your eyes fixed on him.

"You know perfectly well that I'm not for him... The gods didn't destined me for him. However, they used him to make our paths cross."

You let go of his hand and stood up. A gentle touch on his cheek, your breath on his lips. You were so close that the air around him burned.

"I had a dream." he whispered quietly. "I felt you in it, but I didn't see you. You were like a wild animal, but when you looked at me we both knew that we were no threat to each other. That we were looking for each other."

"That's how it was..."

He felt your lips on his. The gentle and tender touch of lips that tasted of sweet wine. Each kiss was a promise of eternity, endless love and sensations that only souls truly dedicated to each other could experience.

Strong arms pulled you to his broad chest, and his lips became more violent, more greedy. But you weren't afraid, not of him. You already knew that Marcus would do everything so that you wouldn't appear before the Emperor.

You were his, by the will of the gods.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

#pedro pascal #general marcus acacius x fem!reader #general marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #gladiator 2 #gladiator II #general marcus acacius

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mrs-monaghan · 2 years ago

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DUH, anon, he left the frames white for Vmin, cause VMin real. I knew JK was a closet Vminer. Look how he protects Vmin. Saying from a Friend during their letter exchange, but never said anything with Yoonmin or Vhope's letters during the same show. Look how quick he jumped in on James Corden to say Vmin were fighting over dumplings, instead of their homo feelings toward each other. Look how he throat chopped Tae when he stares at JM too hard. Such a sweet friend reminding him he's on camera and staring too hard. Or when JK said JM was happiest with him twice. He is the ultimate friend offering up to do fanservice with Vmin to hide them. Tae is mine, JM is mine. So sweet. Look how he covered up by being on Letter. It was obvious BH would never let JM release Letter because its so obvious Letter is about Tae, so BH told JM to pick a member to be on the song. It was either JK or the Rapline. So JK volunteered. Look how he even played it for Vmin on the guitar, so sweet. Look how JK is going to premiere with Tae since JM can't and riding in the car with JM for years, cause Tae couldn't. What a sweet little brother.

All joking aside, this is how you people sound. TK this, Vmin this or JK always in the middle, torn between lovers? Its embarrassing. JK is anti JM with anyone but him and he's made it very clear. I love how people question every ship being real & come up with scenarios like what I listed & believe in them a 100%, but are adamant Jikook are not real and could never be real. It's mind boggling, yet entertaining, yet infuriating to watch.

The first half of your ask though

#thanks anon #that was hilarious #the vermin #bts ask #ask shaz

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one-flower-one-sword · 9 months ago

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Hello I have a question everyone is going on about Hua Cheng hating Feng Xin despite being loyal to Xie Lian. What do you think of the reason Hua Cheng hatred towards Feng Xin?

Hey Anon! thank you for your question, I'll do my best to answer it :)

First of all, I think it's important to keep in mind that Hua Cheng has reasons to hate Feng Xin outside of his treatment of Xie Lian. Though out of the two, Mu Qing treated Hong Hong-er the worst - arguing that a visibly starved and abused child was lying about having no one caring for him and then later kicking him out of the army out of jealousy - Feng Xin really wasn't much better:

The young child shook his head, but Mu Qing said, “There must be. If he doesn't go back, his family will surely be worried sick looking for him.”

“No, no way! There's nobody!” that young child cried, sounding like he was afraid to be sent back, and he opened his arms reaching for Xie Lian. He was still covered with mud and blood, and Feng Xin couldn't stand it anymore.

“What're ya doin’, kid? Things were urgent earlier, so whatever, but shouldn't you know better by now? This is the crown prince. His Highness the Crown Prince. Do you understand?”

That young child's arms immediately shrank back, but he was still gazing at Xie Lian.

Vol 2, page 362

We see this treatment of Hua Cheng continue all the way to the reveal in Mount Tonglu's caves: because of what Hua Cheng is - a beggar child, a ghost king - he shouldn't be near Xie Lian - a crown prince, a god - and his adoration for Xie Lian and desire to be near him is openly treated by Feng Xin as inappropriate and disgusting, as something Xie Lian needs to be “protected” from at all cost - if Xie Lian wants to or not.

After walking for a while, Feng Xin spoke up. “No. I still don't think Your Highness should hold a strange child for everyone to see.”

“What's the problem?” Xie Lian asked.

“You're the crown prince!” Feng Xin exclaimed. While he spoke, he saw a worn-down handcart further up the alley and said, “Put the kid in the cart and pull it.”

Mu Qing immediately voiced, “Just so we're clear, I will not pull that thing up the mountain.”

”No one's asking you to,” Feng Xin said. He reached out and yanked the child from Xie Lian's arms, and the child started struggling again.

Vol 2, page 364

Because Xie Lian is nobility, in Feng Xin's eyes he shouldn't be seen carrying a child of the lowest class. Keep in mind that it was Xie Lian's own decision to carry Hong Hong-er himself and that the child had repeatedly made clear it didn't want to be carried by anyone else. But Feng Xin still takes Hong Hong-er away from Xie Lian, the only person that the child feels safe with and is being treated well by. Not to mention that he's yanking a child around that he knows has recently been brutally beaten, with no apparent care for its injuries.

Once Mei Nianqing divines Hong-er's fate, Feng Xin treats him like everyone else does except for Xie Lian - as if he's not a human being but some kind of dangerous monster that Xie Lian shouldn't even touch:

The Deputy State Preceptors blocked Hong Hong-er, and the State Preceptor backed away, yelling, “Make him leave the mountain, hurry! Don't touch him, I mean it! That fortune is too toxic; don't touch him!” The Deputy State Preceptors hurriedly moved aside, and Mu Qing and Feng Xin didn't know whether to act.

Seeing that everyone was avoiding him like he was poisonous vermin, the child was shaken and started thrashing even harder, biting and screaming with all his might. “I'm not! I'm not!! I'M NOT!!!”

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, encircling his small form. A voice came from above his head. “You're not. I know you're not. Don't cry, now. I know you're not.”

[...] A while later, the State Preceptor said, “I mean it. It's best if you let go.”

Feng Xin finally came to his senses and exclaimed, “Your Highness! Let go! Be careful of…”

Vol 2 page 380+ 382

So what we've established is that Feng Xin treated Hong Hong-er at best like a nuisance that Xie Lian shouldn't be seen caring for because of the class differences, and some kind of dangerous inhuman thing at worst. Now, since that was the way everyone but Xie Lian was treating him back then, I actually don't think it would stand out to Hua Cheng that much - but what would stand out to him was that Feng Xin, just like Mu Qing, repeatedly tried to separate him from Xie Lian, both through words and through actions, and that he went against Xie Lian's wishes in doing so.

Now we can tackle the other part of your question, Hua Cheng hating Feng Xin despite his being loyal to Xie Lian. And I think to answer it fully, we must first ask ourselves - was he loyal?

It's true that Feng Xin stayed with Xie Lian longer than Mu Qing did after the banishment, but his choices during that time tell their own story:

“Actually, it's… Your Highness, do you still have any money on you? Or something that can be pawned?”

Xie Lian was perplexed that he'd ask such a foolish question at a time like this. “Huh? Why do you ask?”

Feng Xin was sweating, but he replied boldly, “It's nothing… Just… If you happen to have some, can you… lend it to me?”

Xie Lian laughed bitterly. “Do you really think I have anything?”

Feng Xin sighed. “I didn't think so.”

After giving it some thought, Xie Lian asked, “Didn't I give you that golden belt?”

“That's not enough,” Feng Xin mumbled. “Far from it…”

Xie Lian was shocked. “Feng Xin? What exactly did you do? How could a golden belt not be enough to cover what you need? Did you beat someone up and need to pay them off? Tell me?”

Feng Xin came back to himself and quickly said, “Oh no! Don't take this to heart. I was only asking!”

Xie Lian pressed him over and over, but Feng Xin still swore everything was fine. Finally, Xie Lian said with worry, “Well, if there's anything, you must tell me. We can think of a solution together.”

“Don't worry about me,” Feng Xin said. “There's no way a solution will just fall from the sky. Your Highness, you just focus on solving your own problems.”

Vol 6, page 219

While superficially this might look like Feng Xin is trying not to burden Xie Lian with his problems, when we look at the actual context we realize that that's not why he is lying about what's going on. This is set during the time where they're barely managing to scrape enough food together not to starve, and are struggling to make enough money to buy medicine for Xie Lian's sick father. And Feng Xin knows this, knows that anything of value should go towards their continued survival - that's why he rejects Xie Lian's repeated offers of help and lies to him about there being no particular reason he's asking for money. Is that loyalty?

Soon after, he heard the Queen sigh. “If this keeps up, how will my son ever get better?”

Xie Lian could feel something amiss with those words, and Feng Xin replied in a quiet voice. “He's only like this because he's exhausted. Too much has happened lately. Will Your Majesties also keep a close eye on him? Please let me know as soon as possible if there's anything not right with His Highness, but don't tell him you did. Also avoid saying anything that might provoke him-”

Vol 6, page 220-221

Feng Xin told Xie Lian he believed him when he said that Bai WuXiang was back and was stalking him, but behind his back, it's a different story. Not only does he doubt Xie Lian’s grip on reality and his own mind, he urges Xie Lian's parents to also keep up the pretense and then report to Feng Xin behind Xie Lian's back. Is that loyalty?

And we need to keep in mind that this isn't a one time deal but a pattern of behavior that keeps repeating. Feng Xin keeps treating Xie Lian as too naive to be trusted to make his own choices, hence his trying to keep Xie Lian from caring for Hong Hong-er, trying to “manage” Xie Lian like an unruly child, and then all the way to conspiring with Mu Qing to kidnap Xie Lian away from Hua Cheng no matter what Xie Lian wants because they think they know better.

Xie Lian knelt by the stream and puked his guts out for over an hour, heaving until blood came up. After descending the mountain, he walked through the city for a long time, aimlessly wandering the main streets without a destination in mind. Suddenly, a hand gripped his shoulder and yanked him into an alley. Xie Lian looked around and saw an incoming fist before he even glimpsed the other's face.

“Where did you run off to for so long?!” Behind the fist was Feng Xin's furious expression, but by the time Xie Lian saw, he'd already been knocked to the ground by the punch. Feng Xin hadn't expected to knock him down so easily. Confused, he looked at his own fist, then at Xie Lian on the ground. Before he could think to help him up, Xie Lian had already crawled back up by himself.

Feng Xin's face changed, but in the end, his temper was still flaring. “You've got such an attitude! Dropping only a word before running away and disappearing for two months! Do you know how worried Their Majesties have been?!”

Vol 6, page 263

This is after Xie Lian ran away when he found out Feng Xin didn't believe him and was then lured to the abandoned temple by Bai WuXiang and severely tortured and violated. He was obviously not alright when he left and just from the fact that he disappeared for that long it should be obvious that something is seriously wrong - yet Feng Xin doesn't care about finding out, he's so angry at the way Xie Lian is “failing” to be the perfect image he's made up in his head that the moment he sees him again, he punches him in the face. Is that loyalty?

“Why are you being like this? When did you become this way?” Feng Xin mumbled. “I… I really don't know… I'm… Why did I follow you all this time - ?”

“Then stop following,” Xie Lian said.

Feng Xin couldn't wrap his head around that. “What?”

“I said, don't follow me anymore,” Xie Lian repeated. Then he slammed the door.

Four hours later, there was finally some rustling outside the room and low voices speaking. It seemed Feng Xin was bidding farewell to Xie Lian's mother and father. Feng Xin's voice was extremely low, the queen's voice was choked with sobs, and the king didn't say much, but there was a lot of coughing. The door opened a moment later, then closed. Feng Xin's voice vanished, and the sound of his footsteps grew more and more distant. Feng Xin had left.

[...] Before Feng Xin had left, Xie Lian had been afraid. Now that Feng Xin was gone, he wasn't scared anymore. But even though he no longer felt fear, he felt a deeper agony. Xie Lian had initially held a one-in-a-million bit of hope at the bottom of his heart. He'd hoped that Feng Xin would still stay even if Xie Lian admitted he had done things he shouldn't have, even if he became the worst version of himself. After all, the two had never left each other's side since he turned fourteen and Feng Xin was selected to be his personal attendant. They were master and servant, but more than that, they were friends. And Feng Xin had no one to care for aside from the crown prince either - or, at most, him, and the king and queen. But Feng Xin had really left.

Vol 6, page 273-274

And finally, as Xie Lian begins to crack under the weight of his trauma, Feng Xin leaves. Is that loyalty? Or, more precisely, we have to ask ourselves - who was it that Feng Xin used to be loyal to? Because from what we've seen, it was less Xie Lian the person and more the perfect image of a crown prince and a god Feng Xin wanted and repeatedly tried to force Xie Lian to be - a crown prince who doesn't behave inappropriately by carrying beggar children, who doesn't go against the orders of his Shifu, a perfect god who never falters and doesn't show mental or physical strain no matter what he goes through.

Xie Lian stopped eating and said gently, “But I can sort of understand… your feelings.” After a pause, he continued, “There was a period in my own life that wasn't easy. Back then, I'd always think about how wonderful it would be if someone could still love me for who I was, even if they saw me rolling in the dirt and couldn't get up. Though I don't know if there's anyone out there like that. And I'm scared of showing that part of myself too. But if it's someone San Lang yearns for… I think that even if they saw you at your worst, they wouldn't say something like, ‘ah, you're not so great after all'”.

His face grew solemn. “To me, the one basking in infinite glory is you; the one fallen from grace is also you. What matters is you, not the state of you. [...]”

Vol 4, page 182

This is why ‘what matters is you, not the state of you” is the foundation of Xie Lian and Hua Cheng’s love - they love each other for who the other is, not who they could be or should be by any given standard.

Now, someone might say this is all well and good but Hua Cheng wasn't present for the above scenes with Feng Xin and Xie Lian, so those can't be reasons for him to hate Feng Xin. To which I would say, 1. the above examination was about questioning whether Feng Xin really was as loyal to Xie Lian as that discourse seems to insist by looking at what the text actually tells us. And 2., Hua Cheng did encounter Xie Lian several times during his first banishment. And every single time, Xie Lian was alone, in increasingly bad mental and physical states, with no one helping or caring for him.

The first time they meet again, after Mu Qing has just left Xie Lian and Hua Cheng is a ghost fire:

“I won't forget. Your Highness, I am forever your most devoted believer.”

Xie Lian forced down a sob. “...I've already lost all my believers. Believing in me won't do you any good; it might even bring disaster. Did you know? Even my friend has left me.”

The nameless ghost declared as if swearing an oath, “I won't.”

“You will,” Xie Lian said.

The ghost was insistent. “Believe me, Your Highness.”

“I don't,” Xie Lian said. He no longer believed in anyone, especially himself.

Vol 6, page 136-137

After the failed robbery attempt, when Xie Lian gets drunk and falls into a grave:

“God fucking dammit!” He slapped the ground and yelled, “Is anyone there? Is there anyone who can help pull me out?!”

Of course there wasn't anyone. There was only a small ball of haunting ghost fire, blazing unceasingly as it flitted about. After Xie Lian fell into the pit, the ball of ghost fire rushed over, seeming to want to pull him up - but it would never be able to touch him.

Vol 6, page 175

When the group of heavenly officials and Mu Qing drive Xie Lian off the blessed land and Hua Cheng can't help him because he's still a ghost fire:

Xie Lian lay sprawled face-down on the ground in a state of disbelief, his eyes bulging. One of the heavenly officials had shoved him while he was standing there at a loss and made him take that hideous fall in front of so many eyes. It was too humiliating. There were voices all around Xie Lian, high and low, filling the air and invading Xie Lian's ears. He stared with eyes that couldn't be wider at the blackened ground in front of his nose, then he slowly raised his head.

Mu Qing was standing not too far away from him - standing among those heavenly officials, his head turned away, not looking at Xie Lian. Just like the rest of them, he had no intention of lending Xie Lian a hand to help him up. And thus, Xie Lian understood. No one would lend him a hand to help him up.

Vol 6, page 196

When Xie Lian is brutally tortured and violated by being stabbed over and over:

Unwilling to consider this any further, Xie Lian couldn't help but cry out. “Hel-”

Before the phrase “Help me” could leave his throat, the same icy black belt was thrust into his body once again. Xie Lian's eyes widened in horror. The razor-sharp sword was stabbed in, then pulled out. The next person followed without wasting a second, and the next stab was shoved into practically the same spot. The sound locked in Xie Lian's throat finally broke free, and a long, painful scream tore through his entire body.

Vol 6, page 255

And it doesn't stop there - Feng Xin and Mu Qing both ascend again while Xie Lian is lost in the mortal realm, and Hua Cheng is the only one looking for him. That Feng Xin spent so much time in the mortal realm because he was searching for Xie Lian appears to be entirely fanon, as I cannot recall a single instance where the text actually suggests this. And then when Xie Lian ascends for a third time, Feng Xin and Mu Qing are too cowardly to face him, and only seek him out in disguise. And again, they repeatedly try to separate Hua Cheng from Xie Lian:

After a moment, Feng Xin turned to Xie Lian. “If there's nothing else, you’d better hurry back to the Heavenly Court. Many of the heavenly officials have no idea what happened in that ruckus, and they're still waiting for news above. Jun Wu should have been informed by now. You need to report back and give them a proper account.”

Hua Cheng laughed out loud at his words.

“What're you laughing at?” Feng Xin demanded.

“And here I was marveling at how straightforward you are, but it turns out you like beating around the bush too,” Hua Cheng said. “You just don't want His Highness to associate with the likes of demons and ghosts like me, so why not say so openly? Think it's not your place?”

Xie Lian cleared his throat softly. “San Lang…”

“As long as you're aware that he shouldn't be associating with the likes of demons and ghosts,” Feng Xin said coldly.

Vol 2, page 261-262

So, to sum up, when we look at all this from Hua Cheng's perspective - why wouldn't he hate Feng Xin? He's had zero positive interactions with the man, repeatedly witnessed him going against Xie Lian's wishes, and had Feng Xin try and separate him from Xie Lian over and over again. From Hua Cheng's perspective, Feng Xin abandoned Xie Lian to his suffering and forgot about him, while Hua Cheng never wavered in his faith, and didn't give up on looking for Xie Lian even after hundreds of years.

Throughout the entire novel, Hua Cheng is the only one who consistently respects Xie Lian's autonomy - the only times he ever intervenes is when Xie Lian is about to do something that threatens his own physical and/or mental wellbeing. Many other characters, Feng Xin included, repeatedly ignore or even violate Xie Lian's autonomy and the novel makes quite clear how important and profound the distinction is between how Hua Cheng treats Xie Lian and how everyone else does:

Feng Xin glanced at him and couldn't help but say, “...I'm a little surprised.”

“What?” Hua Cheng replied, not turning or showing a single trace of curiosity.

Feng Xin scratched his head. “Since you're so biased against Mu Qing, I assumed you'd think he wasn't worth saving and wouldn't want His Highness rescuing him. I thought you'd prevent him from going.”

Only then did Hua Cheng spare him a glance. “Half-wrong, half-right.”

“Huh?”

“The first part isn't wrong - I certainly don't think he's worth saving,” Hua Cheng said. “I don't care if he lives or dies.”

“Isn't that a little too blunt?!” Seeing that apathetic expression made Feng Xin start to sweat; when he realized that this man definitely held the same attitude toward him, he sweat even harder!

Hua Cheng snorted, then after a pause, he added, “But only His Highness can decide what he wants to do. I will never oppose his decisions.”

“...” Feng Xin had never heard anyone say something like that before - not a man to a woman, and most definitely not one man to another. But he was quite sure that Xie Lian would only get all worked up and flustered again if he'd been here to hear it. “Ah… I see,” Feng Xin said, not knowing what face to make.

Vol 8, page 44-45

And just to make this clear - this is not me hating on Feng Xin. We also could probably all have lengthy but ultimately futile discussions on what loyalty personally means to each and every one of us, which is why when it comes to discourse like this I think we have to focus on what the text says. And I think through this examination it's become quite clear where the limits of Feng Xin's loyalty lay in relation to how it was tied less to Xie Lian the person and more to who he thought Xie Lian should be, and how even beyond Feng Xin's ultimate lack of loyalty Hua Cheng has many legitimate reasons to hate him in regards to how both he himself and Xie Lian were treated by Feng Xin.

Hope this answered your question!

#answered asks #hua cheng #feng xin #hualian #anon ask

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gloriousvermin · 1 year ago

Note

DMs

-love note anon

found you ;3

#vermins thoughts #andrews asks #my frens :D #is that the right word still?#love note anon

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chris-prank · 5 months ago

Note

I don’t know if you did this already but can you write out the characters favorite ways to show affection please?

Or maybe do one where they are confronted with their fears perhaps like, Atlas is found and is sent to be disassembled while their darling gets arrested for stealing, Vincent’s darling gets captured by a different evil doctor and gets accidentally turned into a zombie, someone new to the town saw Martin at a glance and freaks out, and maybe Esteban has a nightmare about bugs while his darling comforts him. lol just had ideas😁

Also your writing is as awesome as always and I hope you’re doing well!

-💚🐺

It's nice to see you again, green heart wolf anon! I hope you’re doing well too and thank you for your kind woooords! 😆❤️

I couldn’t pass the opportunity to do some hurt and comfort, so the way they show affection will have to wait for another time 😔

CW: Violence and mention of blood (in Atlas’s part), mention of insects (in Esteban’s part) and hurt comfort

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

Atlas has never wished death upon someone as much he did in this instant, and that was saying a lot. They had dared to threaten you if he didn’t follow them without making a scene, and so he was now sitting in the back of a truck with special restraints that deactivated his arms. Apart from him there were three guards, with one driving the vehicle. Obviously, he ran in his program every scenario possible to get himself out of this mess, but it all ended up with him being either destroyed or deactivated. Atlas’s sulking was cut short as something hit them with full force.

The violent shock sent Atlas flying across the van. Unfazed by this, the android strategically positioned his body so it could hit the device placed on his back. It broke in pieces on impact, freeing him for good. Some of the men weren’t so lucky as he heard the distinctive sound of a broken neck and saw the chauffeur hit his head so hard on the windshield it went through it. That meant there were only two people left between him and his chance to get back to you.

“FUCK HE’S FREE!” One of the guards yelled at the top of lungs, “SHOOT HIM!”

Atlas switched his attention to the one who had just shouted. Staggering towards him, he dropped to the side at the last second to avoid a bullet. Standing up again swiftly and with ease, he snatched the knife attached to the guard's thighs before sticking it into his neck. After eliminating this vermin and without even looking behind him, he threw the bloodied knife at the last survivor. The weapon ended up in the man's heart with precision.

The android kicked open the already beaten door and climbed out. He scanned the area with his eyes and saw… you. You had staggered out of a car, or what used to be one. Your left hand was supporting one side of your head, blood mixing in your hair and staining your palm. If Atlas had a heart, he would have felt it squeeze. He ran up to you and caught you in his arms before you had the time to even show any sign of falling. Despite the pain he felt by the mere sight of your injured body, by looking in your eyes and weak smile Atlas felt loved like never before.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Vincent was faithful. He wasn’t like those weak minded men that left their partner the second they had a clinical condition. So, even now, despite your body having been mangled and transformed into his worst fear, the mad scientist still had an undying love for you. His boss was also surprisingly supportive of his plan of researching a cure, but Dr. Seraph wasn’t oblivious. Fatalité surely had his reasons to let his sidekick waste day and night on this “side project”, as he liked to call it. The intentions behind it didn’t matter, as long as he had the resources and time at his disposal, it was fine for Vincent.

Entering his lab after a long and tiring day of an unsuccessful battle against some heroes, Dr. Seraph limped his way to his desk while holding his side. He closed his eyes for a second and tried to imagine the words of concern you would have told him seeing his messed up face. Technically, you were there with him… just not capable of sharing any kind words at the moment. Despite it all, Vincent rose up from his chair, wincing at his clearly broken ribs. He walked over to a gigantic glass tube that didn’t look odd in his laboratory filled with strange machines. That’s where he kept you. This was the only way to keep your flesh from rotting away. The only way for him to keep you by his side.

He placed his hand on the glass, wishing he could reach out and touch you like he did so many times before. The empty shell that you had become of yourself grunted and banged onto the surface, the instinct of eating his flesh being the only thought clouding your mind. The mad scientist's eyes filled with tears at this sight and he lowered his gaze. He hated himself for not being able to look at you more than five seconds at a time. He clenched his bruised fist, his despair and sadness quickly turning into a rage filled dedication. He forced his gaze back onto you.

“N-NO! This is not the end.” He straightened his stance as he spoke, “No matter what it takes, no matter who I’ll have to kill, I will bring the real you back to me.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Martin felt incredibly grateful for the life he had in Flowermore as he watched you, enamored as ever, dancing with the other folks while he took a sip of his beer on the side. The autumn festival always had been a joyful moment for him, but with you by his side the ambiance felt even more magical. Discarding his drink, the hunter made his way up to you on the dance floor, his gentle smile directed at you contrasting with his scarred lip. Sadly, festivities were interrupted when one of the farmers and the mechanic came rushing in while holding a half conscious stranger. Everyone soon gathered around with curiosity, making it quite difficult for the doctor to go to the injured aids.

The figure was placed on the ground, and it seemed like he had difficulty keeping his head upright. But when the man finally looked up and saw Martin in the crowd, his face contorted in an expression of pure terror. He didn’t have a chance to get anything out of his throat, since the fright was too much for his nerves to bear, and he collapsed in the doctor's lap.

The hunter excused himself from the gathering shortly after. You soon followed suit. You weren’t oblivious to the slight shift in his jaw and his overall body language when he saw the newcomer's face.

“H-hey whatcha you doin’ here darlin’?” Martin quickly sounded like his usual self as he saw your shadow casted between the trees, “I’m sure Linda still got a few pieces left of that pie you love.”

“Martin… please”

The man let out an awkward laugh and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m fine! I was just feeling dizzy from all the drinkin’ and—”

“You were clearly not fine when you saw that man.” You cutted him short, not with anger in your voice, but filled with concern.

“You’re right… I did know this guy…”

This situation was a culmination of everything he always feared. He hated it. He hated it so much. He felt like a prey the moment it gets stuck in a trap, it’s mind going into a frenzy while trying to find a way out. Martin couldn’t possibly tell you the truth, but at the same time lying to you would clearly hurt your feelings. God, he wanted to snap that bastard's neck for daring to crash into his life and ruin everything. He was so self absorbed in his own guilt and anger that he failed to notice that your face had softened up.

“I always want you to feel comfortable enough to share things with me.” You walked closer, the milk light of moon coursing through the leaves illuminating your face like an angel sent down just for him, “But you don’t have to share more if you don’t want to yet, I’ll wait.”

Martin stood there, stunned into silence. How did you manage to always make him fall even deeper in love with you with the most simple words and actions?

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

You don’t know what woke you up first, the incessant turn and stir of Esteban or the moment he ran into the bathroom in a frenzy. Even with the door closed, you could hear the sound of the running water. Worried that he might have woken up sick, you pulled yourself out of the messy blankets. You rubbed your eyes and called his name as loud as your sleepy throat could muster. No answer from him. He either didn’t hear you or hoped you’d give up and go back to bed, but you weren’t going to do that.

Once you opened the door, you were blinded by the sudden light hitting your cornea and so couldn’t see the state Esteban was in. After you got used to the sudden change, you could see him leaning on the sink, his head hanging low. The man knew you were there and still seemed to choose to ignore you. But upon further observation, you realized that he wasn't. He was actually trying his best not to break down in your presence. The subtle shivering of his body and the fact that he had his eyes closed shut made it clear.

“Esteban…?” You repeated softly, scared that speaking any louder would send him into a panic state.

Your boyfriend forced himself to answer, the words coming out breathlessly. “I'm sorry… I-I didn't want to wake you up for something so stupid...”

For the first time since you entered the bathroom, Esteban let go of the counter and faced you. Before you could retort, he trapped you into a tight embrace, burying his head into your shoulder.

“Insects… They w-were everywhere.” He muttered, clearly trying his best to hold back a sob. “Under my clo-clothes, in my ears, in my eyes—“ He stopped himself as a violent shudder coursed through his body.

“It’s okay, I’m here now and they are all gone.” You raised your hand to rub his back in comforting circles, “can you feel my touch?”

He nodded as a slight moan left his lips. You were right. You were here with him, your touch being the only thing he needed to feel grounded again. Esteban felt silly to not have sought solace in you the moment he woke up, as if you hadn't already seen him at his worst.

He just had to make sure that you never leave him and everything would always be okay.

･*:.｡..｡.:*･*:.｡..｡.:*･

I’m really proud of my writing in this one 😎 *Pat myself on the shoulder* I hope you guys liked it too!

(I didn’t had Jacce since I received this ask before posting his first chapter and this was already getting very very long. 😔)

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