#which still leaves a lot of territory open

[whetstonefires]

#the only one that may have trouble is the asylum owner because of his batshit unethical practices

unfortunately seward just needs to switch to different, modern unethical medical practices and he's good to go

One of my favorite things is modern adaptations that leave people with the same careers they had in the original material, because unless you’re a cop or a doctor that practically never happens.

Irene Adler’s an opera singer. We still have those! They don’t have the same subtext exactly, but nothing is going to because we aren’t the Victorians. She could continue to be an opera singer. I have never seen this happen.

Jonathan Harker can still be in real estate. That’s a job people have. A modern story that still involves Dracula contacting his firm to help him purchase property sounds amazing actually.

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

A Week (He Will Take You)

~

Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.

This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.

Anyway

This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,

They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.

They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.

Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.

Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.

In other words they were stuck in Gotham

Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.

Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,

Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.

You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.

Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.

But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.

"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"

This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.

"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"

That was it.

The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.

But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,

Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.

The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty

Like no one had been living in it.

People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.

Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.

~

Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"

Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "

~

Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"

~

Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."

Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."

Bruce: "Hn."

Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"

~

Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"

Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"

~

Just an Idea

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141! (pt. 3)

"All of us under one roof? Have you lost the plot?"

Gaz snorts, all of you sitting at the bar. You shake your head. The thought alone makes you dizzy.

"Just me and you is hectic enough."

Gaz stares at Soap. John laughs, sipping his scotch. You think for a moment before taking your shot. Wait a fucking second. You joke about how they have decided to make your flat nothing short of a base, and if they're gonna be at your place more than theirs they should at least pay some of your bills. They freeze. Johnny nearly jumps for joy, grabbing your face and kissing you,

"Smart fuckin girl. 'N' if we're paying 'er bills, might as weel move in aye?"

That is not what you meant.

"Who knows, maybe it'll stop them from trying to drag 'er in the walk-in."

John shrugs. They cannot be entertaining this bullshit.

"Doubt it."

Simon shoots back his glass. There's a pause. They look at each other. Oh my God they are entertaining this bullshit.

"I'll think about it."

Price finishes his drink. They talk like you're not even there. You're horrified. Four men and you. One apartment. Not just any men, them. Maybe this is all some sick joke.

"You can always say no."

Simon kisses you before you hop out his car. You're not sure if you believe that. Your phone buzzed in the middle of the night, it's the group chat. Soap sends a link to a three bedroom flat,

Thoughts?

Three dots pop up.

Ok.

Simon replies. That's the only they blessing needed to move forward.

Hectic does not describe the move-in process, there are arguments on who's furniture gets moved in, who sleeps where, who gets to use which bathroom. Eventually there was a vote held (not that it mattered, John always had final say).

Anything big enough to accommodate the five of you was moved in. There would be a bed rotation, making sure no one slept with Ghost and Soap at the same time (and if everyone got tired of their shit, there's three beds for a reason.) Gaz and Soap shared a bathroom upstairs, you shared the one downstairs with Ghost and Price (this made sure you and Kyle had enough space for both your skincare products.)

You barely wore your own clothes anymore; with a closet full of clothes that were comfy and looked good on you, why bother? All your love languages included physical touch, so at any given moment, someone was touching somebody in the house. Lots of shared showers to "save water". Simon mostly cooks with the occasional help of you or Johnny. Sunday roast meant the kitchen was off limits for everyone except Simon, God help anyone who even tries to step foot in his territory.

Holidays are chaotic, always loud with a lot of drinking. And sex. Your first Christmas together was particularly memorable. Of course everyone got gifts that they treasured, including you. But you didn't know what to get Simon. Of course he was the type to say he didn't want anything but, that wasn't right. He opened his gift from you, he stared at it, said a simple thank you and slid it into his pocket. There's a game of poker being played in the living room after gifts are opened. Simon leaves to the bedroom,

"M tired."

Everyone else says goodnight, too enraptured by the game. While there's an argument about Johnny's shuffling, you walk to the bedroom. There he is, cranking the little handle on the wooden music box you gave him; it played Danny boy, wasn't bigger than the palm of your hand, and had an engraving on the inside lid.

"It's the words on the first hoodie you gave me."

"Mhm. Didn't have to get me anything."

He says, still turning the handle. Avoiding eye contact. You sit next to him.

"Don't know if you know how much you mean to me, promise I'll show you though."

His voice the softest you've ever heard. He tucks the box back into his pocket. A quick kiss to your forehead before walking back to the living room with you. This was one of the many holidays Simon didn't have to spend alone anymore.

[briefinquiries]

Tyler Owens x Reader: No Hesitation

Request: From anonymous: “I had an idea for Tyler Owens!! I feel like Tyler would be the type of guy that if a girl came up to him and said ‘this guy is creepy, pls pretend to be my bf’ he would be like ‘hell yay’ and scare the guy away without making the girl uncomfortable?? Maybe you could do a scenario like that with reader?? Thank youuu!!! Lots of love!!”

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: none

A/N: guys.... i'm down bad for tyler owens, pls send help (or requests so i can keep writing about him). anywayyy, enjoy!

“You comin’ T?” Boone asked as he peered into Tyler’s motel room. 

Tyler glanced up from where he sat on the edge of his creaky, double mattress and nodded. “Yeah, I just need to grab a shirt that doesn’t smell like pig shit.”

“Good luck with that,” Boone chuckled. “We haven't done laundry in almost three weeks– just about everything in my bag smells like pig shit.”  

“Maybe it’s time we popped home for a bit,” Tyler muttered as he continued digging through his bag. Finally, he pulled out an unused, plain, T-shirt that had been folded at the bottom of his duffel. “What kind of place is this, Boone?” he asked as he pulled the shirt over his head. 

“Just a bar, man. Nothin’ fancy. They got darts though, and a pool table. Which, by the way, I bet you fifty bucks I can smoke you at.”

“Boone, you don’t even have fifty bucks,” Tyler replied, shaking his head. He stood up from the bed and joined his friend in the hallway, shutting his motel room door behind him. 

“Do too,” Boone said defensively as they began walking towards the parking lot to join the rest of the team. 

“Oh you mean the fifty bucks I gave you to get the van’s oil changed last week? Which now I’m assuming you never did–” 

“An honest mistake,” Boone said, putting his hands up in surrender. “They were closed the day you gave it to me, then I’ll be honest, I forgot about it. But my point is, beat me at pool and that money is yours again.” 

“I don’t want the money to be mine again, I want the van to get an oil change.”

“Well you get your fifty bucks back and you can use it for whatever you’d like– oil change included.”

Tyler shook his head, knowing there was no use arguing with his friend. 

“What’re you two love birds arguing about now?” Lilly asked. She was perched on the hood of Tyler’s truck looking at footage she’d taken from her drone earlier in the day. 

“T’s too scared to play me in pool,” Boone answered before Tyler could. 

“Aw,” Lilly said teasingly. “Nothin’ to be scared of. We’ll still love ya, even if Boone kicks your ass.”

“Yeah, T,” Dani added from the front seat of the van. They had the door kicked open and their feet resting out the rolled down window. “There’s no shame in losin’. Only in never trying.”

“I oughta just leave the lot of you behind. Me and Dexter can take things from here. Isn’t that right, Dex?”

“Sure,” Dexter said casually. “But I’ll have you know I can also beat your ass at pool.”

“Unbelievable,” Tyler muttered to himself. “Who’s ridin’ with me?”

Lilly and Boone’s hands shot up. “Shotgun,” Boone announced. 

“You always get shotgun,” Lilly muttered as she climbed into the backseat of his truck. 

“We’ll meet you guys there,” Dani said as they pulled their feet into the van and started it up. Dexter climbed into the passenger seat and then the group of them were off. 

It took about fifteen minutes to get to the bar Boone had been going on about all day. He insisted they served the best chicken wings in all of Tulsa. Tyler would be the judge of that. 

The parking lot was relatively full– but not surprisingly so for a Saturday night. 

“If you have more than three drinks, you’re ridin’ back with Dani, you understand?” Tyler said to Boone as the five of them walked into the bar together. “I’m not havin’ you get sick in my truck for a second time.”

“Whatever you say, Dad,” Boone said sarcastically. “I’m gonna mark my territory at the pool table– let ‘em know we’re next. Grab me whatever’s on tap, will ya?”

He didn’t even wait for Tyler’s confirmation before darting off, Dani and Dexter on his tail. 

Meanwhile, Tyler and Lilly made their way to the bar to order for everyone else. “Man, he’s full of it today,” he muttered once they reached the counter. 

“Yeah, well. We’re all a little restless,” Lilly admitted. “It’s been a long few weeks without much action. Boone’s kinda like a puppy. Except instead of walks he needs adrenaline rushes and excessive fun. Tonight’ll be good for him.” 

Tyler chuckled as he turned to check where the bartender was at. Except, as soon as he did, his elbow collided with the person beside him. 

“Sorry–” he said quickly, eyes wandering down. 

His words caught in his mouth at the sight of an unfamiliar, but beautiful girl. You were gazing back up at him with equal surprise, mouth hung open slightly. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. 

“That’s okay,” you answered quickly. “I was standin’ too close.” 

“No other way to really do it in here it seems,” he said. 

You smiled sweetly. “I know– it’s never this busy here, even on the weekends.”

“You come here a lot?” he asked, just trying to keep the conversation going. 

“I wouldn’t say a lot, but enough. Any time I have a hankering for some wings.”

Tyler adjusted his body so that he was facing you entirely now. He was boxing Lilly out– but she’d understand. Especially after she got a look at how gorgeous you were. “You know, my buddy said they were good. I didn’t entirely believe him. But if you say so…”

“You’re gonna trust a total stranger over your buddy?” you asked teasingly. 

Tyler tilted his head to the side. “If you met my buddy, you’d understand why. You know we’re all gonna play some pool in a bit if you wanted to–”

“Hey Y/N, there you are!” Tyler heard someone say, cutting him off. He watched as your head snapped around. A man– tall with broad shoulders and black hair, was pushing through the crowd towards you. 

“I gotta go,” you said to Tyler quickly, instantly causing his shoulders to fall. “Have a good night.”

“Yeah, you too,” he grumbled. He turned back towards the bar to avoid seeing you reunite with who he supposed was probably your boyfriend. 

“Don’t sweat it, T,” Lilly said, clapping him on the back. “You’ll get the next one.”

Tyler rolled his eyes, kicking himself for letting himself get his hopes up over a stupid, two minute conversation. 

Once he and Lilly got everyone’s drinks, the pair of them made their way back towards the pool table which Boone had successfully taken over. No time was wasted before Boone was insisting the pair play. 

To Tyler’s absolute dismay– he really did suck. 

He lost three games in a row before finally calling it quits. He opted to sit at a high top table with Dexter, watching Lilly and Boone compete instead. 

Tyler was just about to throw down the last of his beer when suddenly, he felt an arm loop through his.  He turned to tell who he assumed was Dani, that they’d had way too much to drink, but before he could, a voice (that certainly didn't match Dani’s) rang out. 

“Hi baby, there you are!”  

Dexter, who was sitting across from Tyler, glanced at him surprised. 

Tyler looked to his left and locked eyes with the same girl from the bar earlier. Except now, she was gazing at Tyler desperately. Without warning and before Tyler could even react, you leaned closer to him. 

In a hurried whisper, you spoke so that only Tyler could hear. “There’s a guy over there. I keep asking him to, but he won’t leave me alone– can you just pretend to know me so that he’ll go away?”

Then, you press your lips to the side of Tyler’s cheek quickly, like it was a gesture the two of you had shared thousands of times. You continued holding on to his arm, your eyes wildly trying to communicate how terrified you clearly were, as you looked pleadingly at him to help you. 

Tyler’s face broke out into a huge grin as he, with absolutely no hesitation, took on the role of boyfriend for a complete stranger. He wiggled his arm out of your grasp and instead wound it around your waist, pulling you tightly into his side. 

You were taken aback by how secure and safe you suddenly felt. 

“I’ve been looking all over for you,” Tyler replied.  He could visibly see the look of relief that washed over your face once you realized he had decided to play along. 

Tyler tugged at your hip, indicating that he wanted you to lean in closer. You took his hint and tilted your head towards him.  

“Which guy is it?” he asked discreetly. 

“Red shirt, black hair,” you mumbled quietly. It was only then that you notice the other man sharing the table with your rescuer. You offered him an apologetic smile, hoping that he was intuitive enough to pick up on the cues you’d been dropping.  

Next you noticed the rest of his group scattered around the pool table. Initially, they were in the middle of a game when you came over, but now, their attention had shifted. You glanced at the beautiful girl with tanned skin and long, braided hair, holding a pool stick. She offered you a small, but cautious smile. You hoped it wasn’t her boyfriend you were currently draped over.  Then, there’s another guy– with messy black hair topped with an old, worn ball cap. He had a confused look on his face, but when the girl leaned over and whispered something in his ear, his eyes lit up in understanding. 

The man you were clinging to rubbed your hip bone gently with his thumb. The sensation sent sparks across the entire surface of your skin. You wondered if he even realized he was doing it.  

You’d seen him at the bar earlier and had gotten a good, gut feeling about his demeanor. He seemed genuine and kind– even though you’d only managed about a two minute conversation with him before the man who’d been following you around all night came back. It wasn’t until after you darted off that you realized you should have just explained what was going on right then and there. 

You’d realized he was handsome earlier, but this was the first time you’d gotten a good look at him up close, now that your nerves had calmed down and you felt like you were able to breathe again. You wanted to give yourself a pat on the back, because it seemed like you’d chosen the best looking man in the entire bar, if not world, to be your pretend boyfriend. He had distinct features– a strong jaw, tanned skin, and eyes so green, it made you feel like spring was blooming. His brows were furrowed into a firm line as he scoured the bar nonchalantly, looking for the man who had led you to him. You felt grateful that this complete stranger cared enough to help you out.  

“That him?” he asked, nodding in the direction he wanted you to look. 

You turned your head and watched in dismay as the creepy man from earlier approached. 

“Shit– yes.”

“I got ya, don’t worry,” he murmured gently. “Can I help you?” he asked, turning once the man was within earshot. 

He stopped in his tracks, eyes glued to you. “I was jus’ lookin’ for her,” the man said, words slurring together. 

“And what use do you have for my girlfriend?” he challenged, grip around your waist tightening. 

“Sorry man– she didn’t tell me she had a boyfriend.”

“But she did tell you to leave her alone, right?”

“Yeah, jus’ thought she was playin’ hard to get. You know how these girls can be–”

“No, I don’t actually,” Tyler said. “I think if she said leave her alone… you should probably leave her alone.”

The man put his hands up in surrender. “Easy man, I didn’t mean any harm by it. Like I said, I didn’t realize she was taken.”

“I don’t think you’re getting it–” Tyler said, standing up from his chair to face the man. You were surprised by how cold you felt without his hand around your waist. 

“You don’t get to just choose to respect her now that you know she has a boyfriend.” 

“You tryin’ to start something here, man?” The guy narrowed his beady eyes. 

“Why? You offerin?” Tyler took another step forward, anger surging in his chest faster than he anticipated.  

“Might be,” the man said, meeting Tyler halfway. The two were face to face now– things were escalating. 

But before things could get out of hand, the guy from behind the pool table hurried over. “Easy, T–” he placed a hand on his shoulder before facing the guy. “Why don’t you just back off, man? Get outta here.”

“Yeah, c’mon–” two more people from his group stepped forward. Like a small army, you thought. All stepping up to protect you– a total stranger. 

There was a brief moment where the man studied the scene before him. Then, like he realized that taking on the four people defending you was a bad idea, he backed off. 

“Whatever, she’s not worth it anyway,” he said, throwing you one, final nasty glare before turning and stalking off. 

You didn’t realize you’d been holding your breath until you saw him walk out the front door. Only when it snapped shut behind him were you able to exhale a shaky sigh.  

That guy’s been following me all night. I thought I could handle it, but then he got really mad when I wouldn’t let him give me a drink,” you said shakily. 

“What a creep,” one of them said. 

“Thank you so much–” you said, utterly relieved. Then, you introduced yourself to the table of people you’d abruptly intruded upon. 

“Don’t mention it, glad we could help. I’m Tyler.” 

The others had gathered around the table now and each introduced themselves as well. 

“You were right to trust your gut,” Dani said, offering you a reassuring nod. 

“Yeah, who knows what that creep might’ve stuck in your drink.”

You shivered at the thought. 

“Well, I guess I’m glad I crashed your table then,” you smiled, turning to Tyler. For more than one reason, you thought, taking in the sweet laughter lines around his eyes and full lips. You caught yourself staring and forcibly looked away. You weren’t even drunk, but Tyler made your head spin.  

“Anyways, I should go,” you said quickly. You had to remind yourself of the circumstances.  You’d practically mauled Tyler in front of his friends and forced him to get into a brawl in the middle of the bar. And no matter how breathtakingly attractive you found him, there was no denying the fact that this entire situation was awkward and uncomfortable. You cleared your throat. “I’m really sorry for intruding, thank you again.”  

Tyler was still entirely dumbstruck, even as you walked away. It was like his brain couldn’t keep up with whatever the hell just happened. He watched as you disappeared through the crowd of people. 

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Dani spoke up.  

“Huh?” Tyler turns towards them. 

“She was into you, Tyler.”

He wasn’t sure he heard them right. The bar was loud and Tyler’s mind wasn’t working properly tonight, thanks to you and whatever perfume you’d been wearing. 

Lilly nodded her head in agreement, “And if I had to guess by the drool on your chin, I’d say you were into her too.” 

Feeling a little ganged up on, Tyler just stares at his team in disbelief. “I don’t– I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Boone shook his head and chuckled as he walked back towards the pool table. “Man, I have never– in our entire ten years of friendship, seen a girl leave Tyler Owens speechless– this one might be special folks,” Boone chuckled. 

“Go after her, you dummy,” Lilly said. 

“And do what?” Tyler asked. 

Dani scoffed, “Talk to her– invite her back to the table– literally anything but let her just walk away, you idiot.”

Slightly offended, but more motivated, Tyler stood up from the table and finally took the last sip of his beer. It was warm, but he used it as a final attempt at some liquid courage, before striding off after you. The crowd of people was thick, but he was confident that no matter where you were, you’d stand out.  

Sure enough, he spotted you across the bar. You had left your glass on the counter and were currently shifting through your bag, looking for something. Tyler took a deep breath before walking over.  

He called your name, which he was proud to now know, causing you to look up from your things.  

“Tyler, hey,” you said, unable to hide the surprised smile that crept across your face.  

“So that was pretty weird, huh–” Tyler tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but all he did was realize how dry his mouth was. 

You bit your lip, “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make it weird– I just– I was scared. He was so creepy, and you just looked like you’d make a good fake date…” 

Oh my god, what were you saying? You were rambling, like you always did when you were nervous. You took another sip of your drink, wishing it was something stronger. 

But a smirk crept up on Tyler’s face, like he could tell you were floundering. 

“Oh yeah?” His voice was playful. “And how do you think I’d be as a real date?”

Butterflies ran rampant in your stomach as you clenched down on your jaw, trying to play it cool. But it was hard to remain casual when you were pretty sure Tyler was asking you out. 

Your voice was hitched slightly higher than normal when you responded, “I think I’d like to find out sometime.”

Tyler flashed his white teeth in a stunning smile before nodding back towards the table he’d just come from. “How about we start now? I got a hankering for some wings, what do you say I get us a plate to share?”

With no hesitation, you reached for his outstretched hand. 

“Should we eat before or after I kick your ass at pool?” you smiled sweetly. 

[willowedspirits]

Hollow Knight Linked Universe AU! I've finally finished it!

If you don't know much about Hollow Knight, a lot of the technicalities might not make sense, and I would encourage you to look into the game. Or you could just enjoy the chain as bugs and see them off on their buggy adventures!

I've made this AU trying to keep as close as I can to Hollow Knight's story, but some creative liberties were of course taken.

My main idea is that the infection is the equivalent to Dark Link's (who does exist in this) infected monsters and it's up to them to try and slow/stop the infection. My first thought was to have the infection start to spread outside of Hallownest, and the chain needs to go and stop it, but I'm still going back and forth on it.

I'm still open to changing concepts if I find something that works better, but after literal months of working on this on and off I'm happy with how this has turned out!

Rambling about character details below!

Small note: I've set this AU at roughly the start of the infection, when Radiance was starting to take over Hallownest.

Time

Is not from Hallownest. He traveled to Hallownest from a distant land, where he met Malon and settled down with her.

He encountered Radiance upon entering Hallownest, but was protected by a god that had already laid claim to him, Fierce Deity, who protects him from the Radiance's infection.

He and Malon live in the Howling Cliffs.

His wing and antenna injury are from Radiance when she tried to infect him.

He is not able to fly because of the injury, and now fights with a heavy nail.

His wings used to be green, but after encountering the Fierce Deity, they slowly started to change in color until they were blue.

I'm not sure if I would do anything with the eyes on his wings, I was trying to make a connection to Majora in that, but I'm still debating whether to add it.

Twilight

Is a part of the Traitor Mantis tribe that lives in the Queen's Garden.

He met a Sibling (Midna) that escaped from the Abyss. They gave him the ability to harness Void.

Still working on the detail for how exactly they give him this ability, but my rough idea is that perhaps both of them were attacked by and infected villager, and they saved him by giving up their Void essence.

He's grown up wanting to be infected by the Radiance. He was taught the Radiance was a god that gave bugs great strength, but after seeing what the infection really does, he starts to have second thoughts.

The cloak he is wearing is new. The one he wore before was damaged. I'm still debating on when exactly he gets it, but I think it's something he makes after he leaves the traitor village.

Warriors

He is the head knight of the Hive and oversees whoever enters their territory.

His scarf is a gift from the princess of the Hive given to him when he leaves to join the group.

Since he is a bee, he is connected to the Hive via the hivemind. He uses this to check in on his home whenever he can.

This also makes it very dangerous if he gets infected, since it would quickly spread to the other bee's.

I kept his nail the same as Hive Knight's, but it's open to change.

Four

(I'm still very iffy on Four's story concept, but here's what I have so far)

Lives in Green Path.

He has a passion for weapon smithing, and planned on moving to the capital of Hallownest (City of Tears).

But he accidently stumbled on a weak Unn, and agreed to help protect her while she recovered.

When she did recover, she blessed him with a power that allows him to split into 4 parts of himself using his SOUL.

He can split while in the physical world, but will always be split while in the Dream realm. This also makes it difficult for Radiance to infect him.

Wind

Lives in the Kingdom's Edge and works as a guide across the acid lakes. Most of the travelers are those who are seeking to fight in the Colosseum of Fools.

This is how he found the Colosseum, and regularly attends (but not participate in) some of the fights, which is how he meets Tetra.

He is just learning to fly, but is picking it up really fast.

I wanted to keep the lobster apart of his design... But there are no lobsters in Hollow Knight... Then I remembered this was an AU and I can do what I want with it. So lets just pretend that Lobsters are seen as these awesome ancient beings that he wishes to see one day.

Wild

He was a guardian of the Beast's Den before he became infected, leaving the Den to reside somewhere in Deep Nest.

He is cured by the Dream Nail when the group meets him, and the last to join.

His shell is cracked and damaged because of the infection. The cracks have healed over time, but will never go away.

He has trouble with his memory due to being infected for so long before being cured. He is slowly regaining his memory, but there are still a lot of pieces missing.

His infection spread through to his arm, but is hidden under his cloak.

He uses his nails almost as throwing needles.

Legend

Is a shop owner in Hallownest's capital. He sells all kinds of items from all across Hallownest, small things he's found that could be valuable.

He's managed to make his way into the upper class of the capital due to his shop. His cloak is a modified version of the upper-class wardrobe. He dyed and added the hood himself.

Has a great sense of exploration, and has been all over Hallownest, but still has some places he needs to check off.

His jewelry are all gifts from Ravio.

My original concept for his design was to give him 4 arms. I was thinking of the Collector when designing him, and thought it fit. But after working on finalizing the design, I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep it. I still love the concept though.

Hyrule

(Again, I don't have a clear story concept for him but I have some notes)

Lives in the Ancient Basin.

Has learned how to use SOUL, and is in hiding from the residents of the Soul Sanctum because of it.

He has access to spells and is able to heal himself using SOUL.

I originally gave him a cloak, but couldn't decide if he looked better with or without it. So he does have it, but only sometimes.

Sky

Is the wielder of the Dream Nail, which can be used to cure infected bugs by purging the Radiance from their dream's.

Has wanted to learn to fight with a nail since he was little, and would practice his skills.

He learned about the Dream Nail after some of the moth tribe became infected. He left shortly after he learned this infection was spreading through Hallownest, with the goal of stopping it.

He isn't the only one that can use the Dream Nail, but is the one dubbed the "owner" of it.

And that's what I've got!

I didn't go much into Dark Link here, but would be happy to show some concepts I have for him as well if anybody is curious. I'm making him almost like a living version of the Radiance's infection, and is able to spread it from bug to bug without needing to access their dreams. This is mainly why I'm torn on having them leave Hallownest. If Dark Link could spread the infection to farther lands, or to keep him inside Hallownest and just spread it faster there.

I thought that using the Dream Nail was a good equivalent to the Master Sword here, so I just mashed them together, and a lot of the motivations for the chain trying to stop the infection is "I'm seeing this awful thing happen to these bugs that I don't want to see happen to others," with some small variations here and there.

I've been working on this for so long, I just want to share by bug boys. I would love to gush and ramble about them some more. I have stuff I want to do with this AU.

[unabashegirl]

Fragments — one shot

Harry runs into Y/N in Japan. She is his ex and she is seeking closure.

Author's note: Hello everyone, I hope you are all doing well. Here is this week's one shot! I hope you enjoy it. LOTS OF ANGST! The second part will get posted tomorrow.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all chapters, various one shots and much more :)

Please note that everything that is both underlined and italicized is from the past—they are flashbacks!

word count 3.9K

----------------------------------------

As the sun began its descent in the late afternoon sky, Shiba Park in Tokyo was bathed in a gentle, golden light. The cherry blossoms, just beginning to bloom, added a delicate touch of pink to the scene, signaling the early days of spring. The air was crisp but not cold, filled with the subtle fragrance of blooming flowers and fresh grass.

Harry Styles, hoping to escape the relentless pace of his life, walked through the park with a coffee in hand. Dressed casually, he blended in with the locals, his trademark curls tucked under a beanie and his eyes hidden behind sunglasses. The sounds of children playing, birds chirping, and the distant hum of the city created a peaceful backdrop.

As Harry roamed along the winding paths, taking in the serene beauty of the park, his attention was drawn to a familiar figure sitting on the grass. It was Y/N, his ex-girlfriend, enjoying a solitary picnic. A blanket was spread out before her, adorned with an assortment of snacks and a book lying open beside her. She seemed lost in her own world, her face relaxed and serene.

Two years had passed since their breakup, a period marked by unresolved tensions and painful memories. Seeing Y/N unexpectedly stirred a mix of emotions within Harry. He paused, torn between the urge to approach and the instinct to keep his distance. The years apart had softened some of the bitterness, but the wounds were still there, just beneath the surface.

Y/N, sensing someone's gaze, looked up and their eyes met. For a moment, time stood still. The park faded away, and all that existed was the shared history and unspoken words between them. Harry's heart raced, and he wondered if the universe was giving them a chance to get some closure or if it was sick joke.

Harry's breath hitched slightly as he stood there, unsure of what to do next. His mind raced with memories of their past together—the good times, the laughter, the fights, and ultimately, the heartbreak. He took a tentative step forward, then stopped. Y/N, on the other hand, seemed to be caught in a similar turmoil. Her eyes, which had initially shown surprise, softened as she looked at him, but there was also a hint of uncertainty.

The sounds of the park seemed to fade into the background as they continued to hold each other’s gaze. Finally, Harry took another step forward and then another until he was standing a few feet away from her. He hesitated, then managed a small, tentative smile.

“I thought Japan was my territory and off limits for you” he said, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.

“Didn’t realize that we still had divided territories. Weren’t you in Italy a few weeks ago?” she replied, a playful tone in her voice, but her expression a mix of surprise and amusement. She shifted slightly on the blanket, making room as if inviting him to sit.

He took the invitation, lowering himself onto the grass beside her. For a few moments, they sat in silence, the only sounds being the rustling of leaves and distant laughter from other park visitors. Harry took a sip of his coffee, searching for the right words.

"Point taken," he said with a knowing smile, aware that Italy held a special place in her heart. Perhaps that's why he found himself spending most of his free time there—chasing her and the memories they had once shared. Italy had become one of refuge, a place where he could feel closer to her, even if she was no longer by his side.

"I didn’t expect to see you here," he finally said, glancing at her.

"I didn’t expect to see you either," she replied, a faint smile touching her lips. "How have you been?"

He nodded, looking down at his coffee cup. "I've been... busy. Touring, recording, the usual. What about you?"

“Good. Nothing unusual” she said, her gaze drifting to the cherry blossoms. "Life's been quiet, but good.”

"How long are you staying?"

"A month."

"You finally took those vacations," he smiled warmly, fully aware of how much she had dreamed of this much-needed break. The thought of her taking time for herself brought a sense of relief—he had always wanted her to prioritize her well-being, even if their paths had diverged.

Y/N nodded, a grateful expression softening her features. "Yes, finally," she replied, a hint of exhaustion tinged with excitement in her voice. "I needed this more than I realized."

Harry looked at her, noticing the subtle signs of weariness that hinted at the weight she had been carrying. "I'm glad you're giving yourself this time," he said sincerely. "You deserve it."

As they sat on the grass, Y/N suddenly glanced at her watch and then back at Harry, her expression shifting. "I need to get going," she said softly, her voice tinged with reluctance.

Harry looked at her, concern etching his features. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just... I have stuff to do."

Harry felt a pang of disappointment but tried to hide it. "I get it," he said quietly, his voice filled with sincerity. “Let me walk you out?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. Sure”.

They stood up together, brushing off their clothes. As they walked side by side through the park, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across their path. The silence between them was comfortable, though charged with unspoken words and hidden feelings.

Y/N looked at him momentarily and she felt like she was in the dream. Like in one of the numerous dreams that she had when they had just broken up.

As they neared the exit, Harry felt a growing sense of urgency. He wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. The thought of not seeing her again gnawed at him, so he took a deep breath and asked, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

Y/N glanced at him, sensing the hesitation in his voice. "I’m not sure yet."

Harry's heart raced as he quickly blurted out, "I’m taking a course on making sushi in the afternoon, and in the evening, I was invited to an art exhibition. Would you like to come with me?"

He winced slightly, realizing how rushed and jumbled his words had sounded. But to his relief, Y/N seemed to understand him perfectly. She hesitated, clearly taken aback by the suddenness of the invitation. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions. Part of her wanted to decline, to remind herself of the pain that still lingered from their past. Yet another part of her, the part that still held onto the connection they once shared, was tempted to say yes.

She looked at him, trying to gauge his intentions. It wasn’t lost on her how much effort he was putting into this, how much he seemed to want to bridge the gap between them. But she also knew that accepting would mean opening old wounds, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for that.

Deep down, she felt a strong need for closure. She deserved at least that from him—an explanation for everything that had happened in those last few months. The questions that had haunted her, the confusion that lingered, all demanded answers. And as much as she wanted to protect herself from further pain, she knew that without closure, she would never truly be able to move on.

She took a deep breath, her mind racing as she weighed her options. Harry’s invitation felt like an opportunity—a chance to finally confront the unresolved issues between them, to hear his side of the story, and maybe even to find some peace.

“Okay,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze. “I’ll go”.

Harry’s eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and relief. “Really?”

She nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah”. she agreed, feeling a mixture of apprehension and anticipation. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Harry nodded, his smile growing. “I’ll pick you up”.

“Sounds good” She gave him a small nod.

As Y/N walked away, a surprising sense of calm washed over her. She returned to the charming Airbnb she had rented, a place that had captivated her with its traditional decor and tranquil Japanese garden. This trip had been a rare indulgence—she never took vacations, so she had splurged on a stay that offered peace and serenity. Running into Harry had been the last thing she expected, a twist she hadn’t anticipated.

Once back, Y/N found herself reaching for the bottle of wine she had been saving for her last night in Japan. She poured herself a generous glass, savoring the rich aroma, and then slid open one of the doors that led to the garden. Sitting on the edge, she let her gaze drift over the carefully tended landscape, the soft rustle of leaves in the evening breeze soothing her nerves.

As she sipped her wine, memories flooded back—how it all began with Harry, how blissfully happy they had been during those first two years. The laughter, the shared dreams, the moments that had once made her heart soar.

Y/N rushed through the crowded streets, her phone cradle between her ear and shoulder as she fumbled with bags. She was late, as usual, and in the midst of her hurried pace, she decided to call her coworker to confirm a meeting time.

Without looking too closely, she scrolled through her contacts and dialed the number of her coworker. The phone rang twice before a voice answered on the other end.

“Hello?” a deep, distinctly British voice said.

“Hey, I’m running a bit late,” Y/N said not bothering with pleasantries. “But I’m almost there, so don’t leave without me, okay?”

There was a brief pause on the other end. “Um, I think you might have the wrong number, love,” the voice replied, amusement clear in the tone.

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, her heart skipping a beat. That wasn’t her coworker’s voice. Realization hit her like a freight train.

“Oh my God,” she blurted out, her face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry, I thought I was calling someone else!”

The man on the other end chuckled, a warm, easy sound that somehow made her feel even more flustered. “It’s not every day I get a call like this. I’m amused”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could disappear into thin air. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, feeling like a complete idiot. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“You’re not bothering me at all. Don’t hang up just yet” He assured her, his voice still light with humor. “I’m a bit curious now. Who were you trying to call?”

“My coworker,” she replied, still mortified. “We were supposed to meet for a presentation, and I’m runnin —”

Suddenly, the call cut off, the connection lost as she moved through a spotty area of service. She stared at her phone in disbelief, her face heating up with a mix of mortification and frustration.

She hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen, but she couldn’t bring herself to redial. It had been a mistake, after all. He probably didn’t think twice about it, she told herself, brushing off the encounter as nothing more than a fleeting moment of awkwardness.

Little did she know, the brief exchange would leave a lasting impression on him. The first track on his next album would be inspired by that stranger’s call, and it would become a hit record.

The next day, as they strolled through the bustling streets of Japan, Harry noticed the silence that had settled between them. The vibrant surroundings seemed to contrast with the quiet tension that hung in the air. He glanced over at Y/N, who was lost in thought, her expression distant.

“You’re quieter than usual,” Harry remarked gently, breaking the silence. His tone was soft, tinged with concern as he searched her face for any sign of what might be on her mind.

Y/N looked up, startled out of her thoughts. She offered him a small, almost apologetic smile. “Just taking it all in,” she replied, her voice quieter than usual too, as if she were trying to keep something at bay.

Harry nodded, but he could tell there was more to it. There was a weight in her eyes that hadn’t been there before, a heaviness that seemed to grow with each step they took closer to the restaurant he had reserved for their private cooking lesson.

“I don’t want this to be awkward,” Harry said, sensing the tension that lingered between them. He wanted to clear the air, to ease the unease that seemed to hang over them, but he knew that doing so would mean opening Pandora’s box—revealing a lot of things he wasn’t ready to confront just yet.

Harry’s words hung in the air, and for a moment, Y/N hesitated. She didn’t want to make things more difficult, but the weight of unspoken questions pressed down on her, demanding to be acknowledged.

“Harry,” she began, her voice trembling slightly as she forced herself to continue, “what went wrong?”.

The question hung there, raw and exposed, cutting through the fragile peace they had tried to maintain. Harry’s steps faltered, his breath catching as he turned to face her, the streets of Japan fading into the background.

“Y/N…” he started, but his voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t find the right words. Or maybe he was afraid of them.

She looked into his eyes, searching for something—an answer, an apology, anything that could make sense of the pain that had consumed her in the months after their breakup. “We used to be happy until those last few months,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Harry’s chest tightened as memories of their past came rushing back. He could see it all so clearly—the late-night conversations that stretched into the early morning, the spontaneous trips, the way she used to look at him with so much love in her eyes. It was all there, and it hurt to think about how they had lost it.

Y/N stood outside the studio, her heart pounding in her chest as she leaned against the wall, trying to stay out of sight. She had only been dating Harry for a few weeks, and everything still felt so new, so fragile. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when she’d arrived at the studio, the sound of his voice singing had stopped her in her tracks.

She could hear him inside, his voice smooth and captivating as he worked through a melody with a small group of people. Y/N knew she should knock, let him know she was there, but something held her back. She was still shy around him, nervous about stepping into his world, a world she felt she was only just beginning to understand.

The music flowed through the walls, wrapping around her like a comforting embrace. She could hear the passion in Harry’s voice, the way he poured himself into every note. It was mesmerizing, and she found herself leaning closer to the door, not wanting to miss a single word.

She bit her lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she listened. This was Harry in his element, doing what he loved, and she didn’t want to interrupt that. But as much as she loved hearing him sing, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place, like she was intruding on something private.

Just as she was about to quietly slip away, the door to the studio creaked open. One of the musicians stepped out, giving Y/N a polite nod as he passed by. She froze, hoping he hadn’t noticed her lingering there like some awkward fan. But as the door swung wider, Y/N realized with a jolt that Harry was looking directly at her.

He paused mid-sentence, his eyes lighting up with surprise and something else—something warmer. A smile spread across his face, and he excused himself from the group, his gaze never leaving hers as he stepped toward the doorway.

“Hey darlin’” Harry said softly, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and affection. “How long have you been out here?”

Y/N blushed, feeling caught. “Not long,” she lied, glancing down at her shoes. “I didn’t want to interrupt… You sounded amazing, by the way.”

Harry chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “You could’ve come in, you know. I don’t bite,” he teased, but his eyes were gentle, understanding her hesitation.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” she admitted, still feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

“Come here. You can never distract me” Harry said, his tone sincere. He reached out, taking her into a tight hug. Harry pulled Y/N into a warm embrace, his arms wrapping around her as if he were trying to shield her from the world. She melted into him, her head resting against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The warmth of his body seeped into hers, and for a moment, everything else faded away.

Harry held her close, his hand gently stroking her back in slow, soothing circles. The tension she had felt earlier began to dissolve in the comfort of his embrace, replaced by a sense of peace that only he could bring her. He smelled like a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him, a scent that was both familiar and calming.

He pulled back just enough to look down at her, his eyes soft with affection.

“You are staring” She murmured, her voice low and tender. Before she could add anything else, Harry leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to seal his words with reassurance.

The kiss was sweet, filled with a quiet promise that made Y/N’s heart flutter. When he pulled back, he gave her a soft smile, his eyes filled with warmth. Without letting go of her, Harry reached down and took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. His grip was firm, yet gentle.

“You tell me,” Harry said, his voice suddenly sharp, cutting through the tension between them. “You were the one who left.” The bitterness in his tone was undeniable, the memory of that night still raw and vivid in his mind.

Y/N flinched at the harshness in his words, the pain of that night rushing back to her as well. “You still don’t get it? “How hard is to accept the fact that I left you because you didn’t deserve me?”. She shot back, her voice trembling with emotion. “You shut me out. You pushed me away until I couldn’t take it”.

Harry’s jaw tightened, the frustration and hurt that had been simmering inside him now boiling over. “I didn’t know how to talk to you,” he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice catching her off guard. “I still don’t know how to talk to you”.

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, her heart breaking all over again. “You made me feel like I wasn’t enough,” she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them. “Like I couldn’t do anything right, and that no matter how hard I tried, I was always going to lose you.”

Harry’s expression softened, the anger in his eyes giving way to regret. “It’s here” He said, his voice barely above a whisper as they arrived at the restaurant.

As they arrive at the restaurant, the atmosphere feels almost serene, a stark contrast to the tension that still lingers between them. The restaurant is tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, its traditional wooden façade illuminated by soft, warm lights. The sliding door opens as they approach, and they are greeted by the chef, a kind-looking man dressed in traditional Japanese clothing. His warm smile crinkles the corners of his eyes, and he bows slightly as he welcomes them.

"Welcome," the chef says in a gentle voice, his English tinged with a thick accent. "It is an honor to have you here today."

Harry returns the bow, his hand still lightly resting on Y/N’s back as they step inside. “Thank you for having us,” he replies, his tone respectful.

The chef guides them down a narrow hallway, leading them into a cozy kitchen space at the back of the restaurant. The kitchen is immaculate, with gleaming countertops and neatly arranged utensils. Fresh ingredients are laid out in beautiful wooden bowls, each one perfectly prepared for the lesson ahead. The smell of fresh fish, rice, and various seasonings fills the air, making Y/N’s stomach rumble slightly in anticipation.

The chef turns to them with another smile. “Today, we will be learning the art of sushi,” he says, gesturing to the ingredients. “Please, take an apron.”

Y/N reaches for one of the aprons hanging on a nearby hook, the fabric soft and clean in her hands. She fumbles slightly with the ties, her fingers a bit clumsy as she tries to secure it around her waist. Before she can figure it out, Harry steps forward, his hands gentle as he takes the ties from her.

“Here, let me help,” he says softly, his voice filled with a quiet warmth that makes her heart skip a beat.

Y/N turns slightly, allowing him to stand behind her. She feels the warmth of his breath on the back of her neck as he carefully ties the apron around her, his fingers brushing against her back in a way that sends shivers down her spine. There’s a tenderness in the way he handles the simple task, a care that speaks volumes, even without words.

“All set,” Harry murmurs, his voice close to her ear. He gives the ties a gentle tug to make sure they’re secure before stepping back, a small, almost shy smile playing on his lips.

Y/N glances over her shoulder at him, her heart fluttering at the look in his eyes. “Thanks,” she whispers, her voice soft as she tries to ignore the way her emotions are threatening to bubble up to the surface.

The chef, oblivious to the silent exchange between them, claps his hands together, drawing their attention back to the task at hand. “Let us begin,” he says with enthusiasm. “I will show you how to prepare the rice, and then we will move on to cutting the fish.”

Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to refocus her mind on the lesson ahead. But even as the chef begins to explain the process, she can’t shake the feeling of Harry’s hands on her, the lingering warmth of his touch a constant reminder of the connection that still exists between them, despite everything that has happened.

Part 2

[jobean12-blog]

Aftermath

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Mob!Bucky AU)

Word Count: 2,318

Summary: Bucky has kept you safe for as long as he's had you but the first time you don't follow his orders is definitey going to be the last.

Author's Note: These new pics are giving lots of mob/mafia vibes and I love it! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: some angst in the beginning and illusions to violence, mentions of a gun, Bucky is soft and there are lots of fluffy moments but he's pissed you didn't listen and he needs you.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily when Nat doesn’t pick up the phone. She only called you two minutes ago. Right after she sent you a text telling you she needed to talk. Under any other circumstances you would never leave your perch at the bar. Never leave the safety of Bucky’s club and go against his orders.

However, your best friend needs you. She just had a bad break up and things are still rocky so any time she calls you were sure to be there for her. So here you are, standing on the sidewalk outside Bucky’s nightclub, phone pressed to your ear and your foot tapping rapidly against the concrete.

Bucky told you about the heavy tension building between him and a rival boss trying to impede on his territory. He told you that your safety was his first priority. That’s why you were with him at his club right now. He didn’t want you out of his sight.

But you were only just right outside the door…

You’ll try Nat one more time then go back inside and wait for Bucky like he asked.

The phone starts ringing and you hold your breath, hoping she’ll answer. Just as you hear her voice on the other end a car pulls up at the curb and with one glance the occupants have you swiftly turning on your heel and heading back toward the doors of the club.

“Nat,” you say quietly. “Are you ok?”

“I’m having a rough night,” she sighs. “I need your opinion on something.”

“Of course.”

You’re walking at a brisk clip, realizing that during your musings you had wandered farther from the door than you intended to.

Nat is still talking but the sound of your blood rushing through your ears starts to drown out any other sounds.

Four men get out of the car, none of which you recognize. You need to get inside quickly. One of them, carrying a baseball bat, twirls it lazily in his hand as he saunters closer, looking you over appreciatively.

Apprehension shoots up your spine, intuition guaranteeing that they’re here to start trouble.

“Nat I have to go. Call Bucky.”

She starts to reply but you hang up before she can, hoping she heard the trepidation in your voice and does as you asked.

Before you can reach the entrance, two of them lunge in front of you and block your progress.

“Where are you goin’ so fast beautiful?” One of the men asks.

“Excuse me,” you say.

A third man circles up behind you.

“Let me by,” you tell them.

The man holding the baseball bat ignores you.

“You belong to Barnes don’t you?”

Your suspicions are right. These are bad men and they are definitely looking to cause some trouble for your husband. And you.

You shrink back on purpose, appealing to their inflated arrogance and hoping they will underestimate you.

“Please. Just let me go.”

The man with the bat laughs as he runs the coarse wood along your bare calf.

“Think your man will miss you?”

Before the bat reaches your thigh you smack it away. Even though the attempt is most likely useless you’re hoping to pass more time. One of the men behind you snakes a hand around your elbow and yanks you toward him.

“Get in the fucking car baby,” he sneers. “It’s for your own good.”

The fourth man, still in the car, pushes open the back door and lets out a whistle.

“Come on gorgeous. I’ll keep you warm for Barnes.”

You take a deep breath as they propel you toward the car and only put up a small amount of resistance. As soon as you sense they are under the false impression that you’re coming willingly, the hand on your elbow weakens and you act.

With sharp and quick movements you reach for the baseball bat now dangling loosely from the leader’s hands and grab it, swinging it in a large arc to buy yourself some room.

Two of the men jump back, having been caught off guard, but it connects with the leader’s rib cage and he let’s out a vile curse, falling to his knees.

You back up as the other two men approach. Unfortunately, it’s in the direction away from the doors.

“He should have locked this one up,” the man closest to you laughs. “She’s full of fire.”

“And I’m going to enjoy that,” he leader says as he stands, still holding his ribs.

You bring the bat down hard as he lunges for you, but he dodges the weapon and barrels himself closer until he can wrap a strong arm around your waist.

The bat is ripped from your hands and your back is plastered against the man’s chest, his hand creeping up between your breasts to wrap around your throat.

He squeezes hard, tight enough to cut of your air and reflectively your fingers claw and try to pry his hand away.

You try to focus, getting ready to go limp and convince him you’re out cold, so you can somehow disable him.

Just as you’re about to put your plan into action the front door of the club flies open, hitting the side of the brick building with enough force to crack the metal.

Through your dimming eyesight, you can make out several men, including Bucky, before his ferocious growl of denial echoes through the air around you.

It startles the man choking you enough that he eases up on the pressure, allowing you to suck in precious oxygen.

Guns are drawn just before your knees hit the concrete and your stomach twists with renewed fear.

“Bucky,” you whisper, getting to your feet and stepping closer to him.

His haunted gaze makes you swallow hard and you can see the emotional battle written all over his handsome features. With his long finger poised on the trigger, he clearly wants to end the man who had his hands on you.

Without a word he tears his attention away from you, indicting your captor with a nod of his head.

“Steve.”

Steve, his own gun held in a tight grasp, moves in front of Bucky and toward the other man.

“He doesn’t go anywhere,” Bucky seethes.

The other two men from the rival group, still outside of the car, lower their weapons, watching with no emotion as Steve wrestles their leader to the ground with the gun to his head.

Finally, they let out a string of curses and hop back into the car, leaving their ‘friend’ behind as they peel away from the curb.

Bucky motions to Clint and Sam. “Follow them. This ends tonight.”

As Clint and Sam rush off to follow Bucky’s order he slowly saunters forward, the open collar of his shirt blowing wider in the light breeze.

He picks up the bat with a nonchalance that contradicts the tightness of his body and swings it deftly in his metal hand. When his fingers close around the handle you hear the wood crack under the pressure.

Bucky comes to a stop directly over the left-behind leader, and his gaze meets yours for a brief, heavy second, before he raises the bat high and brings it down with enough force to make you gasp.

Your heart races out of control, breathing shallow in your ears. The bat connects with the sidewalk next to the man’s head, sending shards of wood in every direction.

Your relief is short lived.

Bucky crouches down and looks the cowering man straight in his eyes.

“You. Are a dead man.”

Slowly and purposefully he rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you. You swallow the hard lump in your throat and place your fingers in his. In a split second you’re swept into his arms and tugged against his hard chest.

He drags you toward his car and tucks you into the passenger seat, buckling your belt and then slamming the door shut.

Through the closed window you can still hear him shout to Steve. “You know where to take him. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The silence stretches long and thin through the car and you can almost feel Bucky’s rage. You open your mouth to speak but promptly shut it when you hear his huff of warning.

He hates the feeling of fear so instead he welcomes the anger, focusing on it, wishing it’s enough to block out the image of you being choked, your feet scraping at the ground and hands clawing at your neck.

If he dwells on it too long his whole word will collapse and he has to get you home. To safety.

At the reminder of what he saw as he walked out of the club, his grip tightens on the leather steering wheel, almost making the car swerve.

When he pulls up in front of your house he checks his surroundings before driving in through the gated driveway. He looks to you, a silent demand to wait, before he gets out of the car and does another sweep of the area.

Once he deems it safe he opens your door and helps you out of the car.

When you’re safely inside the house he leaves you standing just inside the door, inside the large and opulent foyer, as he flies around the nearby rooms and checks every window and lock.

Your gaze follows him the entire time, trying desperately to draw him in and away from the rage. He staunchly defies it and after he feels satisfied the house is safe he takes you by the arm and leads you toward your shared master bedroom.

He walks to the nightstand and opens the drawer, reaching deep into the back to retrieve a gun.

“Bucky, please. Will you just talk to me?”

He can feel you standing close.

“You will stay in this room, with the door locked, until I come back. Anyone tries to get in that isn’t me, you shoot them. Understand?”

When your silence becomes too much he turns to you, keeping his eyes steady as he pleads.

“Tell me you’ll listen. That you understand.”

You take a deep inhale but still don’t speak.

“I’m waiting for my answer doll.”

You move closer and everything inside him tenses up.

“Don’t,” you whisper.

You lay a hand on his chest, immediately making him tremble from head to toe. His eyes close defensively as your hand moves higher and sneaks under the open buttons of his shirt then to his neck and finally into his hair.

Your lips press to his neck.

“Please Bucky. Don’t leave me. Stay.”

He shakes his head, unable to speak and it only makes you drag your lips higher, along his jaw until they hover just above his mouth.

A groan leaves his parted lips before he can stop it.

“I’m scared. I need you.”

Your lips brush over his, once, twice. The hand in his hair runs smoothly along the back of his neck and then coasts over his broad shoulder and down his chest.

“I have to go doll.”

His words are gritted and tortured before his name leaves your lips in a soft whisper.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“You know where I’m goin.’ Don’t make me say it.”

When he notices the glossiness of your eyes it strips him bare and he falls back a step, ready to fall to his knees for you.

“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”

He’s shouting now.

“If I hadn’t gotten to you in time? One minute later, baby. One fucking minute!”

Your fingers tremble as you reach for him.

“I know, I…”

“You would have been gone. How can you expect me to survive that.”

He breaks off, not able to put the horrifying thought into more words.

“Fuck. I’m so mad at you doll. So mad. But all I can think about is how I need to be inside you. Need to feel you wrapped around me. Feel you everywhere.”

You tightly grasp the lapel of his jacket and drag him closer. He comes easily. Willingly.

“Bucky,” you whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just thought I’d be outside for a second. Nat needed me…I never thought…”

Every word you speak continues to topple the reinforced barrier of anger he’s built. The only thing keeping it standing is that there’s still some physical space between you both.

But then you take a step closer and curl your fingers in the hem of your dress to draw it up over your head, the whole time letting your knuckles and hands brush along his heaving chest and every ounce of his self-control vanishes.

His heated gaze rakes over you and his hands fist at his sides.

You press yourself against him and deliberately untuck his shirt, slipping your hands underneath the lush fabric and running your fingernails up his rigid stomach. His muscles contract beneath your fingers.

“I need you baby doll. So badly.”

You unhook your bra and drop it to the floor, tingles racing over your skin as his jaw grinds with his devouring stare. You lower your hand to palm and squeeze his straining arousal.

“You can have me now Bucky. Now and always.”

His expression softens long enough for you to catch the brightness in his eyes and then his mouth is on yours, his hands frenzied as they grasp and smooth over every inch of your bare skin. He never breaks the kiss as he walks you backward toward the bed, letting you gently fall to the soft mattress before he settles himself between your spread legs.

“I can’t touch all of you at once and it drives me crazy,” he whispers against your lips as his hand slides down between your legs. “I need everything, always.”

@hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50 @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989

[hyewka]

soobin + humiliation kink + hes such a perv

priorities, you perv | c.sb ࿐

⭑ synopsis. a blind date? oh thats immediately pushed aside just for the addictive high you get off messing with your roommate, who seems to be more pouty than usual tonight for whatever reason.

⭑ warnings. sub perv soobin, panty sniffing, underwear used as ball gag kinda, handjob, fuck buddy roommate au, humiliation kink sortaa, dacryphilia, vibrator, bunny/pup petname, not proofread, use of goddess

Soobin’s been intent on following you around like a puppy this evening, all around the house, but the longer he keeps it up, the less it becomes cute and funny and the more it crosses into the ‘overbearing jealous boyfriend who isn’t actually your boyfriend’ territory. Because really, why the hell has he been acting like a pet with abandonment anxiety the day you have your blind date scheduled?

“You can’t come in my bedroom with me.” you finally say, flashing him a superficial wide smile, behind your door.

He abruptly stops, stumbling back like his mind really was on autopilot following you—then his face falls, brows knitting together. “What, why?”

“Because I don’t want your cooties all over my bed.” He isn’t amused, clearly, with a brow raised. You groan, it could be life or death and your roommate would still not choose to humor you. “I’m going to change idiot.”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before?”

You click your tongue at him—he might have an amazing track record with academics, but sometimes it really is rocks for brains in there. “You’re not coming in Soobin, tough luck!”

In lightning speed he sticks his arm between the crack before you shut your door. “Wait, no, I wanna—I wanna help you pick something out!”

Now its your turn to raise a brow. Soobin? Help you get ready? He’d rather die of boredom.

You knew you weren’t crazy.

All day, hes been acting extremely out of character. Throwing you pouts during the one lecture you shared, feeling his eyes bore into you like he’s trying to burn a hole in your face, yet still spending money to buy you your favorite tiramisu even when he’s been sulking like you’ve wronged his entire bloodline.

The craziest thing is that you truly do not know a bigger cheapskate than Soobin. He’d chase a quarter in a crowd of people even if it took him all the way to Japan. So the tiramisu was a mind boggling investment. For you, let alone. It’s like he was bribing you.

He couldn’t have magically fell head over heels, it has to have something to do with the one thing different today. Your blind date.

You reach out to pat his head, mock pouting. He takes the bait anyway, lowering his head a little, looking so cute confused. It’s adorable actually, how quick he is to go with whatever you do.

“Aww Soobie, it’s okay, I promise you’ll always be my number one good boy. You really don’t have to be jealous and act out.” you tease, intentionally using baby talk to agitate him a lot more than it would’ve.

He scoffs loudly snapping his head to the side, bewildered this is the direction you decided to take things. “What? Jealous? Jealous? Jealous of what? I’m not jealous.” You stand there wearing a skeptic look on your face and a cross of your arms over your chest.

He wags his finger at your face like he can’t believe your audacity, dryly laughing (which really just sounds like a bunch of scoffs stringed together). “You’re funny, I—I gotta give it to you Y/N, you should really try your luck with Hueningkai’s comedy group again. Is it a crime to want to support your roommate after being all too aware of her notorious losing streak with the dating world? I don’t think so!”

Ouch, the all too real call out. “Damn, okay asshole you can help.” you faux hurt, not missing the chance to flip him off before walking inside and leaving your bedroom door wide open behind you. Maybe his input will have you get to your date earlier. “By the way, I do not have a losing streak.”

————-

There are outfits you just think you’d never wear to a first date—your black bodycon with cuts at the waist was an absolute no-go, especially with it’s length. Then there was the crimson red shoulder-off that had your tits looking too full—that was a big no. You don’t even know how your blind date looks, you wouldn’t want to have a man you find sexually unappealing to find you sexually appealing. That’s always a cause for a migraine.

But the problem you’re facing right now is far greater than any migraine you’ll experience. Soobin seems to think every outfit you wound up coming out with is, in his own words, “too much”.

This one’s the worst of all. “It’s literally just ripped jeans and a crop top!”

“That’s the problem! It doesn’t even look pretty!” he splutters, eyes wide and a large pout on his lips.

“You want me to wear something pretty?”

He looks to the side, mumbling, “Whatever.”

It’s raining, you hear it pouring and you’re like, fifteen minutes late already. All for Soobin’s useless input. It’s not worth it, and you’re proven even more correct when you come out the bathroom with the outfit you picked out. White, tight, but flowy at the ends of the dress. Girly and especially tight at the chest, just like you know he likes it.

Soobins eyes don’t fail to shamelessly rake over your body, stunned, looking like a deer in headlights. He clears his throat, snapping out of it. “No, absolutely not.”

You feign innocence, tilting your head. “Why not? It’s pretty.” You make it more of a point when you turn around, acting like you’re just checking your outfit through your wall mirror, knowing damn well the horndogs probably salivating at your ass barely being covered.

“It’s too much.” he parrots again lamely, chewing slightly on his lips. “Change, you can’t go out like this.”

Okay, that sort of pisses you off, turning around with your arms crossed again to the boy sitting at the edge of your bed. He doesn’t have the right to order you around. “Yes I can, I very much can.”

Suddenly, there’s a switch—he cowers like a kicked dog. “You can wear whatever you want I didn’t mean to-”

You break into a grin all of a sudden walking towards him, shutting him up.

He gulps, sitting there, avoiding eye contact when you’re close. You prop his chin up, and he just lets you, forcing him to look you in the eye. God, he already looks stupidly entranced. “You’d hate for me to wear this, huh?”

“Yeah..” he admits way too easily, a little whine in his voice, brows knitting up. Cute.

“But you love the dress, don’t you?” you purr, caressing his face with your thumb.

Your phone suddenly rings and you’re pulled out of the moment for a second, glaring at it then back to your roommate who looks like he’s under some love spell. Yeah no, this is much more fun.

You ignore the call, letting it ring as you drag your thumb down his bottom lip and god how obedient he is just sitting there and looking up like you’re his deity.

“What?” you giggle at the way his breath hitches the further you trail your finger down his body. The switch right before your eyes, oh that transformation’s worth more than anything else in the world. Bunny’s horny.

“You’d love to take this off me, right? You’d love me tease you bit by bit, have my tits bouncing in the restrictions of them, just struggling to keep your hands from ripping it apart...” you trail off, finally getting your hand on his half erect clothed dick.

You can see him holding back, holding back from humping your hand, the one you just purposefully let rest on his growing boner. “Your date.” he reminds.

You quirk a brow, taken aback. “Want me to go?”

Suddenly, he vigorously shakes his head, “No, no, don’t. I want you, please.” The strain of his voice when he pleads—god it’s the sexiest, most sinful thing ever.

Shameless. Just the way you like him.

“Hm? You do? Don’t you always?” you tease, walking away to get something out of your drawer.

“What are you looking for?” he mumbles skeptically.

You gleam, pulling out the vibrator and turning it on, showing it to your unsuspecting roommate. “Let’s play with this.”

He frowns. “You know I can make you feel ten times better than that toy, you don’t need it.”

“Who says its for me?”

You enjoy the blush that trickles his cheeks, and how easily the tips of his ear turn red as he blinks rapidly to collect himself. His adam apple bobs up and down again, stumbling over his words. “God, you’re such a himbo.”

“W-wait!” he shrieks, suddenly covering the tent in his pants.

You halt, the vibrator only a few inches from his crotch. “Can—can you…” he sighs frustratedly, looking away from you, the steam coming his red ears has you curious, what’s he so hesitant for? “Can you take off your underwear?” Oh.

Of course.

Your lips form into a smirk, knowing exactly what he wants to do with them. Slowly, with one hand you pull down your panties and let them drop to the floor. His eyes are, despite having a hard time telling you what he wants, eagerly fixed on the black lace, you could see the bead of sweat that breaks from his forehead. Pervert.

You bend down to grab it, purposefully making a show of it and he just huffs. “Get with it already.”

You laugh, “You’re being so bratty today. Think you’re owed a fuck?”

He whimpers dejectedly, shaking his head. Mockingly, you wave your panties in front of his face like an owner wagging a bone in front of their dog. He’s so indecent he has the audacity to take a whiff when the garment is close enough. God, he really is absolutely shameless.

And you really need to relieve yourself. You’re trying to not rub your thighs too much.

You crumble the underwear in your hand, and coo. “Open your mouth wide baby.”

Soobin’s mouth falls open almost immediately, tongue lolling out, looking up at you expectantly so much so it would be endearing if not for the situation you’re currently in. You shove it in his mouth, cringing at the saliva that wets your fingers.

“This is how it started huh?” you near the vibrator on his inner thighs enjoying the way he sighs through his nose, shuddering. “Fooling your roommate into thinking you were a studious, innocent good boy but in reality you just snuck in the laundry room every night to jerk off with her panties. Disgusting.”

He moans wantonly around the fabric, his hair brushing over his eyes as you near the vibrator to where he actually wants it. His dick. Poor him, its probably weeping in his pants.

“Violating me like that without my knowledge— you’ll always be a bad boy.”

Again, he shakes his head hard, to the point your panties fall out of his mouth already. “No, good boy. I’m your good boy.” he pants, face flushed. How’s he so easily worked up?

You giggle, pressing the vibrator against his cock, having Soobin’s jaw fall slack. “Couldn’t even keep the underwear in your mouth for more than two seconds. You’d make a really good camboy, always wanting people to hear you moan and whine like a slut.”

“No, no, just want you. Just want you to hear me.”

That affects you more than you’d like, and you try to fight the blush that warms your cheeks. God damn Soobin.

But he isn’t even aware, if his babbles were any indication. He dips his head back, big hands digging onto your sheets as you run the vibrator up and down. “Fuck.” he groans, still keeping his eyes open to watch your chest. You know he’s trying hard to keep up the good boy act for you, so you throw him a bone.

He gasps when your hand goes down his pants to wrap around his cock, and it’s the cutest thing ever how he immediately melts. You’re sitting next to him, twisting and jerking off his dick with his head leaning on your shoulder when you’re supposed to be under an umbrella with a future dating prospect instead.

Who cares, that man you’re sure wouldn’t give you what he’s giving you.

“Don’t wanna cum yet, wanna fuck you f-first.” he breathes into your neck. “Please goddess, please. Want your pussy.” he begs dumbly, starting to lay wet kisses to your neck— hes just not leaving room for you to really hold back.

“Holy shit, you’re good.” you realize in awe, probably wetting your bed with how aroused you are right now.

“Then take me baby, take me how you want. You’ve been good, so good.” you slur, and he practically jumps onto you like an oversized bunny, having your back on the mattress and him hovering, pulling you into an open mouth kiss almost immedietely.

“You’re so hot, fuck, you drive me crazy.” he says rushed, kissing you again, melting his mewls and pants into it.

You feel the roughness of his hands playing with your tits already, kneading so desperately you think he must’ve been itching to do just that this entire time. You like it with him, how it’s so dirty and quick, but still passionate enough to keep you wanting more.

“Fuck, wanna see them, please, please.” he whines as he salivates even more, playing with your nipples through the fabric, cheeks red and flushed, pathetically humping your cunt with his boner. “No, be a good bunny and fuck me good.”

He’s sniffling and tears stain his lashes, yet he still nods obediently, humping your cunt like he’s just restless enough to not pull out his dick and put it in—it’s the hottest thing ever.

But eventually the fabric feels rough against your skin, and you hiss, taking it upon yourself to pull out his cock from his pants.

God, his tip is red, leaky— it’s gross, a testament to how he gets with you and you love it. “Come on baby—bunny, fuck me.” you look up at him with wide, doe eyes and it immediately has him nodding frantically, missing your entrance once before he completely bottoms out, suffocatingly filling you up in one push—you’ll just never get used to his size.

“Always so mean, you’re always so mean to me.” he dumbly babbles, tongue out as he fucks into you maniacally, getting lost in your pussy.

“But you’re in my cunt right now aren’t you?” you mock, knowing that’s always his end goal with you, his end prize.

You’re breathless, curling your toes the harder he snaps his hips. You’re used to how it is with Soobin, he’s always animalistic and unrhythmic, rubbing your clit like he has no idea what he’s doing. But that’s the fun in it, how inexperienced and pathetic he is.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, are you? Are you?” he’s out of it, kissing your neck, biting, panicky as he nears his orgasm, that before you could respond, you’re already feeling his seed fill your cunt.

He can tell, he can tell when you didn’t get there so he’s already pulling your dress up over your tits, attaching his mouth on one of your nipples, pulling the other through his hands, playing with them till they become puffy and have you withering under him. “Fuck, fuck Soobie…just like that,” you moan, feeling his long fingers squeeze into your pussy, speeding up, trying to rip an orgasm out of you.

The tense of his arms, veins showing, cease once you arch your back and cum at getting a good look of his face— lips raw and red as he bit onto them for majority of the time, eyes wet and big, just silently begging you to cum on his fingers, you let yourself go, the tightening band finally snapping.

—————-

note. lol im not super duper confident but let me know how you guys feel about this one, feedback keeps me going

[ckret2]

Above: Bill showing off the messed up things he can make the Nightmare Realm do.

Below: Bill literally an hour later.

Here, have a fic. In which the gods try to figure out what to do about the new omnicidal chaos god who would rather destroy reality than politely exit Dimension Zero so they can arrest him for burning down multiple dimensions.

This is part 7 of a ???9-ish??? part plot about the Axolotl meeting this friendly harmless innocent little triangle in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre and then getting repeatedly slapped in the face with all the atrocities Bill's committed. If you want to read and/or look at the pretty art on the other parts, here's one, two, three, four, five, and six.

####

There was fresh fear amongst the many gods crowded around the site where Dimension 2 Delta had once stood.

The perimeter around Dimension Zero's turbulent border had pulled back dramatically, leaving a barren no man's land between the police cordon and the triangle's territory.

The fires in the 1D and 2D universes, for a moment so close to doused, had returned with a vengeance—and by the sound of some chatter amongst the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force agents, they suspected it was a literal vengeance. The storm cloud heading the ATTF operations had needed to personally visit the burning dimensions again—see which previously contained fires had reignited or jumped their firelines, and see which new fires had broken out so that it could redistribute the available firefighting forces appropriately.

The Time Giant had gone along to inspect the damage and figure out which dimensions could be repaired—provided they ever stopped the fires—and which would ultimately needed to be rebuilt.

And anyone who wasn't actively engaged in trying to control the fires was still trying to process the newest crisis: the leader of the mortals who'd fallen into Dimension Zero wasn't a fellow mortal victim, but an out-of-control new god with the power to move and burn entire universes who didn't seem to understand that he was about to destroy all of reality, himself included.

VENDOR had finally run out of excuses to avoid the media, and was now reluctantly holding an impromptu press conference with the reporters on the scene—and THEY looked so miserable the Axolotl nearly felt bad for THEM. He overheard THEM blurt out, probably far louder than intended, "I will not be remembered as the god who was in charge of the emergency response efforts that got the entire multiverse destroyed!" and he wondered whether VENDOR remembered either that THEY weren't in charge or that, if the multiverse were destroyed, THEY wouldn't be remembered at all. No one would be.

From the conversations he overheard, the Axolotl got the impression that no one, even the most senior ATTF agents on the scene, had ever dealt with a threat to the multiverse this dire. No one knew what to do about the triangle—least of all the Axolotl, who was only here because everybody still hadn't realized that he wasn't supposed to be.

So while everyone else was arguing, privately panicking, or actually doing something useful, he was floating at the cordon holding people away from Dimension Zero.

####

There were a few stars and rocky bodies on the wrong side of the cordon. The triangle's sun—the star that had once shone down on his 2D world before it burned down (before he burned it down)—was still out there. Once again, it was falling toward Dimension Zero.

He glanced around to see if anyone was watching, then swooped under the cordon, scooped up the sun, and carried it back to the safe zone. He opened a portal to his tank, slid the star inside, then shook out his forefeet and inspected the burns on the soft skin. He'd been playing with a lot of fire today.

"Axolotl!"

The Axolotl looked up. He wasn't surprised by the familiar sight of his Oracle's soul emerging from the aether—she'd already come by once to but he was frustrated by it. One more person he had to protect in this mess.

"Something happened—"

"I know." He quickly curled around her, doing his best to shield her from the other gods in case any of the nearby arguments escalated—or the triangle decided to lash out at the third dimension again. "You shouldn't be here now. It isn't safe."

Of course, she ignored him. She wouldn't be the kind of person he picked as one of his Oracles if she weren't the kind of person who ignored gods' warnings. "Our seers heard the whole sky scream in pain, and then saw a vast eye—"

"Over there." He lifted his tail out of the way just enough to let her see the border of Dimension Zero.

No matter where you looked at Dimension Zero, that golden fleck of light seemed to twinkle in the center of your field of vision. The Oracle squinted. "The little flat yellow creature?"

"He was bigger earlier."

"What happened?"

"A showdown with the cops."

The Oracle paused as she tried to reconcile that with the seers' apocalyptic vision. "Who won?"

"He did."

"Good." And she wouldn't have been the kind of person the Axolotl picked for his Oracles if she didn't say that, either.

On most days, he'd agree with her. But after seeing what the triangle could do—knowing what he would do... The cops weren't the answer, but he had to be stopped somehow.

(He could feel the triangle's eye on them. Was he listening to them now?)

"He's shaped like a triangle. Is he connected to the blind seer's final vision?"

The seer who'd seen the sky burn and collapse into a blinding triangular light. "He is. He's the last survivor of the first dimension to burn. His people called him the Magister Mentium; he was a seer to his people, too."It tore the Axolotl's heart to say more than that—but he wouldn't mislead his Oracle. "Somehow, he started the fire."

Before the Oracle could ask him how, a faint voice yelled, "Hey!"

They turned toward Dimension Zero. The triangle was on the border, looking straight at them. He shouted again, "Hey! You with the pink freak!"

"What?"

"How many fingers do you have!"

She gave her four arms a puzzled look. "Twenty!"

"Wow!" The triangle sounded genuinely impressed. "What do you use 'em all for?!"

"Normal finger things?" She asked, "Why's your hat so skinny?"

"What hat?"

She paused. "Never mind!" She turned back to the Axolotl and whispered, "Is the hat part of his body?"

"I don't think so. He didn't have it the last time I saw him."

She kept trying to look at the triangle until the Axolotl curled around her to stop her staring. "That's the seer who's destroying universes?"

He wanted to make excuses for the triangle. He wanted to defend him. "Yes."

She was silent a moment before asking the question she'd really come for: "Is my world in danger?"

"Not yet. Not directly. But... if he isn't stopped, it eventually will be," the Axolotl said. "He's fallen into the center of the multiverse and is trying to build a kingdom there. If he fails, it will collapse and kill him; but if he succeeds, it will destabilize and kill all of reality."

"Wh—?!" She gave him a look of disbelief. "But—that doesn't make any sense! He loses either way!"

"I know."

"So why is he endangering everyone for nothing?!"

"I don't know."

"I'm going to find out."

"Wait—!"

The Oracle's astral projection could be very slippery when she wanted; she was already past the Axolotl and flying toward Dimension Zero. "Hey! Magister Mentium! I want a word with you!"

"Don't cross the border between dimensions!" The Axolotl clutched the police tape in both forefeet as he watched.

After five minutes of shouting and death threats, the Oracle flew back to the Axolotl.

"I think he's stupid," she said.

He smiled sadly. "I fear it's something much worse than that."

He had the skin-crawling feeling that the triangle was staring at him. He forced himself not to turn and find out for sure.

####

The Time Giant was the first to return from the frontlines of the fire. She joined the Axolotl next to the police tape, muttered something about needing to pick up some "stuff" from "a couple centuries ago," snapped out a length of time tape, and returned three seconds later in a different shirt with sleeves rolled up and carrying a folding table, a bundle of blueprints, and an energy drink. She unfolded the table in the void, spread out her blueprints on it, chugged her drink, hunched over the table, and ignored the rest of the universe.

The Oracle gazed up at the Time Giant and instantly fell in love. The Axolotl politely pretended he didn't notice.

VENDOR was the second to float over—slumped forward, lights dim, looking like THEY were returning from a war zone rather than a press conference. Heaving a weary sigh, THEY positioned THEMSELF next to the cordon with the Axolotl and Time Giant; which was the point at which the Axolotl realized he'd accidentally formed a club of people who didn't want to be in charge of this mess but were. "Any change?" 

The Time Giant grunted distractedly. The Axolotl said, "No." The Oracle said, "I accidentally taught the triangle an obscene gesture." 

VENDOR turned toward Dimension Zero.

The triangle sprouted two extra arms and gleefully pantomimed something filthy.

VENDOR turned away from Dimension Zero and sighed even more heavily.

When the storm cloud drifted over, VENDOR said, "Go away unless you have good news." The arrogance had drained out of THEIR voice; what little pomposity THEY had left was a thin mask over exhausted fear. (The Axolotl could sympathize; he felt the same dread weighing low in the pit of his stomach.)

Before the storm cloud had left to check on the other dimensions, it had still been hailing in fear; by now, it had whipped itself up into a furious blizzard. It had to stay back from the group to keep from freezing them too, and even at that frost still crept across VENDOR's glass and the Axolotl had to shield the Oracle from the cold. "Well," it said stiffly, trying to rein in its rage and sounding even colder as a consequence.. "Almost all the new fires have already been contained. I'll say one thing for that—" It paused as it mentally glided over what was no doubt a long and creative list of insults, "—guy; at least he's making an effort to be more careful of where he kicks the neighboring dimensions so the damage doesn't spread as fast." It sighed a chilly, angry gust of wind. "Unfortunately, he's gotten more aggressive about kidnapping mortals from other dimensions. He's narrowed his focus, but he's kicking ten times harder."

"That wasn't very good good news," VENDOR whined.

"Sorry. Fresh out," the cloud said. "Fact is, if we don't stop him, we're toast."

Nobody was surprised by that. VENDOR asked, "How much time do we have?" THEY turned to the Time Giant.

While VENDOR had gotten pathetic and the cloud was seething with barely-restrained rage, the Time Giant had only grown more stoic. Her face was set in a stony mask; her jaw was tight enough that she could bite an airplane clean in half. Since she'd come back, she hadn't glanced up from the stack of blueprints she'd retrieved.

It took her a moment to realize the question was directed toward her. She jerked her head up as if ready to snap at whoever had interrupted her; but caught herself as she processed the question. "Uhh, pffff..." She squinted toward the horizon of time, face scrunched up to expose her teeth. "If we get the fires put out? Few years. Couple decades at the outside. Reckon it's more than enough time to jury rig something that'll keep reality propped up while we get in a construction crew to set up a new Big Bang, no problem."

The Axolotl whispered reassuringly to the Oracle, "A couple of decades to us is over a thousand of your people's generations."

"A couple of decades," VENDOR muttered, voice rough, a few stray moons rattling around behind THEIR product dispenser door. "This multiverse was built to last an eternity. To think it could be destabilized enough to collapse within a couple of decades, all because of one..." THEY fell silent. They could all feel the steady staring eye watching them from deep within Dimension Zero.

The cloud said, "And if he doesn't let us stop all the fires?"

She pursed her lips, brows knit tightly. "If the fires keep spreading and that triangle keeps destabilizing things, the whole thing could collapse in a week tops."

"That's still a few years for your people," the Axolotl told the Oracle optimistically.

She swatted his paw. "Aren't you powerful enough to, just—stop him? You're gods." They must have seemed undefeatable to her—living beings the size of mountains and vast world-moving machines and forces of nature. That was how the gods always looked to mortals.

But unfortunately, when you got right down to it, they weren't much more than weirdly big people.

VENDOR muttered, "Well, I don't have the authority to call in the kind of reinforcements that can take that thing down." (More cautious now that THEY realized this wasn't a threat THEY could effortlessly crush in THEIR gears, weren't THEY.)

The cloud said, "The Apocalyptic Threat Task Force can make that a call that in any situation that poses a credible threat to multiversal safety and security, but..." It asked the Axolotl and Time Giant, "Just how strong do you think he is?"

"Could be omnipotent," the Time Giant said. "Wouldn't be surprised."

The Axolotl reluctantly nodded in agreement. "He doesn't understand what he's doing yet, but he's already manipulating the fabric of reality with his bare hands."

VENDOR made a tiny noise like a malfunctioning motor at that.

Grimly, the cloud said, "I could put in a call to HQ. We have a few higher dimensional types on call. Creator gods and the like. They're probably the only ones who'd stand a chance against an omnipotent god that can make a whole universe do a barrel roll. But if we aren't sure we could win the fight, and fast..."

The assembled group of gods cast a nervous look at the gaping hole into Dimension Zero.

The triangle, smaller than one of the Axolotl's fingertips, stared back from the border. He solemnly spread his arms wide. "You wanna go? Come at me."

They did not want to go. They turned away.

"Bad idea," the Time Giant said. "If the laws of physics are unstable, even the strongest god wouldn't have an advantage. It'd be like putting the fastest sprinter in the multiverse on a racetrack without gravity. And since he's the one running the physics, he could practically hand himself a win."

"And on top of that, any fight down there risks knocking the multiverse down," the cloud said. "It's too dangerous. We can't risk attacking him."

"We'll just have to hope he doesn't attack us first," VENDOR muttered.

The Axolotl's stomach flipped. He knew something they didn't. "Actually, I... don't think he can."

All attention was on him. VENDOR said, "Please tell me you have some actual good news."

"I don't know." He wasn't sure whether it would make any difference. All he knew was that he felt like he was betraying the triangle. He lowered his voice to what for him passed as a whisper. "But, I think... I think his power is limited to the borders of his realm." As he said it, he knew he was telling the truth. Some beings got like that when they were old enough; they could just feel when something was right. "He can't impact anything that isn't touching his dimension. He's essentially harmless to the rest of the multiverse. The only real threat is... well." He gestured helplessly at the frothing chaos. "The fact that the dimension is like that."

Voice hushed, the cloud said slowly, "Hold on. So... he's trapped in the crawlspace beneath reality."

"No—he's trapped in the 'dream realm' he's built inside the crawlspace. He can drag the realm out with him, but... we saw what happens when he does that." They'd all heard how existence had howled in pain. They'd seen how even the triangle had been scared enough to stop.

"So we have no hope of fighting him in his bunker—but if we drag him across the threshold... the fight's over." THEY turned to the two cops THEY'd been leading around all day.

The crab and burning wheels tried very had to look like they hadn't noticed the conversation at all. 

VENDOR and the cloud exchanged a frustrated glance. Sarcastically, the cloud muttered, "Yeah. Easy."

The Axolotl said, "I'm not even sure we can drag him out of his bunker. I don't know if he won't leave, or physically can't leave—just that his power stops at his borders."

VENDOR sighed, "So we're back where we started."

The Time Giant smacked her mess of blueprints, making the other gods start. "No we aren't! If his influence can't spread outside his dimension, then I've got a fix." She held up a thick binder. "It's a fiddly chrono-construction technique to shore up brittle dimensions. It can work as a stopgap measure to stop him from destabilizing any more dimensions." She looked at VENDOR. "It'll make a lot of extra work for the urban planning committee."

VENDOR's lights flickered off. The Axolotl could see the numbers on THEIR digital display as THEY slowly counted to ten. Then THEY turned their lights back on and said, with an air of forced calm, "All right. I don't think there is any getting out of this without extra work. Tell me the idea."

"Right now, all our dimensions are connected adjacent to each other—corner to corner and edge to edge. It's simple that way. But, if we restructure the dimensions parallel to each other, we can use the pressure of the outside dimensions to press in on the crawlspace and keep its contents in place. It's gonna be a mess. Forget about the Dimension 1, Dimension 2, Dimension 3 system we have right now; by the end of this we're gonna have Dimension 143 and Dimension M and Dimension 6.5 and Dimension -17 and imaginary number dimensions and quadratic dimensions..." She shrugged helplessly. "But if we can't get this bozo out, it might be our only option."

"Parallel universes? It sounds ridiculous." VENDOR let out a low moan of pain, "We'll have to restructure the whole multiverse."

"Yup. Probably."

"Everything's so nice and tidy now. A perfectly arranged planned community. Nice, straight, gridlike dimensions..."

"Parallel dimensions do have some potential benefits over adjacent dimensions," the Time Giant offered comfortingly. "Easier interdimensional travel—"

VENDOR grumbled, "Oh, I know, I know, Municipalitron's been pushing to experiment with parallel dimensions for the past two hundred billion years. He won't shut up about how it would benefit mass transit."

The cloud said, "All I care about is the multiverse surviving long enough to worry about mass transit."

The time giant said, "The biggest downside is that once we've completely closed up the crawlspace, when that dimension he's set up inevitably collapses, there's no easy way to get back all that energy and dark matter. If we ever decide to rip open a rift big enough to drain it out, it could take trillions of years if we don't want the flood to destroy the receiving universe. We might never clear out the rubble. But on the other hand, if it's sealed up well enough, it won't matter if the ruins are left to rot."

"What about the hostages?" the Axolotl asked. "Won't that trap everyone inside?"

"We'll have to leave manhole covers and maintenance shafts, obviously. Until the fabric of reality's finished unraveling, we'll have a chance to get them out," the Time Giant said. "Even that 'Magister' can leave if he decides to surrender himself. Assuming he's willing to leave his construction project behind."

If he could leave it.

VENDOR let a heavy whoosh out THEIR vents. "Balls. Very well, submit your proposal to the committee. I'll vouch for it. But I won't like it." THEY muttered, "Municipalitron's never going to let me live this down."

The storm aimed its sunbeam at the Time Giant. "Can't start construction as long as he's still starting fires and picking fights, though—can we? Unless you can build new dimensions on top of an active inferno?"

"N—Hold on." She squinted toward the future to check. "Nope. Though once I get down a fireproof foundation, we won't need to worry about it anymore. Got a trick called timeline splitting: you reformat a dimension so that the timelines fork infinitely, any time a choice is made. If he tries to burn 'em, they split: one timeline he burned and one he didn't. He'll just add more timelines and thicken the foundation every time he tries to attack the neighbors."

Horrified, VENDOR said, "I've been trying to pass an ordinance to ban timeline splitting for an eon."

"Has it passed yet?" the storm asked.

"No!"

"Great. Then that's our plan," the storm said. "We just need somebody to talk him down long enough to put out the fires and get the fireproof foundation in place." Its sunbeam turned toward the Time Giant. "Maybe if someone explains the stakes to him—?"

She shook her head, expression flat. "I'm a civil engineer, not a hostage negotiator. If he didn't get it the first time I laid it out to him, he ain't gonna get it the second time."

VENDOR asked the cloud, "Isn't the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force trained in talking down apocalyptic threats?"

"Yes, but no," the storm cloud said.

"What does that mean! Just... go up to that thing"—THEY tilted toward Dimension Zero—"and keep him calm."

"Are you kidding? I'm not suicidal!"

"This is your job, you're an apoc cop!"

"Apoc agent!" It raised its voice, "And talking down threats is not my speciality! I was sent because we thought this was a structural issue, not an actively malevolent entity!"

"Hey!" the triangle shouted. "Who are you calling malevolent?! Hey! Hey! Look me in the eye and say that again, I'll kick your base! I'm the most benevolent entity you've ever met!"

They wordlessly avoided eye contact with the triangle, scooted another solar system farther away from Dimension Zero, and lowered their voices again. 

The storm cloud asked VENDOR, "Shouldn't this be your department? We're dealing with the possible genesis of a new god, and his first act was destroying a dimension and destabilizing reality. Sounds like politics to me."

Delicately, the Axolotl said, "I don't think THEY're the best choice."

"I'm certainly not. I handle the urban planning committee's budgeting," VENDOR said. "I deal with accountants, not terrorists! The only reason I'm here is to provide planets for those flat refugees, and I am sick of being at every humanitarian crisis in the multiverse just because I vend planets—"

The Axolotl had taken all of VENDOR that he could. He rounded on THEM, snarling, "Why are you even in politics, if it's not to help mortals? Is that not why you accepted the title of 'god'?" He flared his gills and his eyes glowed in rage. "Because it's why I did! I wish there was more I could do to help! And you, you can do more than anyone, and you're complaining about it?!"

VENDOR jerked back from the Axolotl. For a moment, the whole group was stunned silent. The Axolotl's eyes stopped glowing. He had to fight the urge to shrink back self-consciously from their staring. His Oracle patted his side comfortingly.

And then VENDOR's lights  brightened. "You know how to talk to mortals like that. This triangle is just like the omnicidal monsters you represent every day." THEIR camera whirred as THEY sized him up. "If you want to help more, then why don't you?"

Ah. The Axolotl paused to swallow his anger. 

He glanced down at his Oracle, who had been hiding in his shadow as she took notes and attempted to surreptitiously ogle the Time Giant. He said, "I think..."

She nodded. "I'll wake up." And then she faded out as her spirit sank back down to a lower plane.

The Axolotl tried to avoid looking at VENDOR—how could someone without a face look so smug?—and focused on the Time Giant. "What do you need me to get him to do?"

####

Biologically there was really no such thing as a god, in the same way that botanically there is really no such thing as a vegetable. Tomatoes are fruits; spinach is a leaf; carrots are roots; broccoli is an unfinished flower. The word "vegetable" just indicates the cultural role a plant performs in the kitchen.

The word "god" indicated the cultural role an entity performed in cosmology: a god was anything that people considered powerful enough to be worth worshiping.

A trillion trillion priests and philosophers and theologians and politicians had attempted to pin down a firm definition—but any definition was only ever valid to the worshipers who agreed it was right. The simple truth was that a being who had created a universe could be called a god, and a particularly impressive tree could be called a god, and a con artist who used clever stage magic to convince people he could teleport and raise the dead could be called a god, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing, to prove than any one of them "really" was or wasn't a god, no trait that universally separated the false gods from the true. If other gods thought you were a god, or if enough mortals worshiped you that the other gods had to bow to public pressure, that meant you were a god. 

Different beings honored with the title "god" handled it in different ways. Some, unsurprisingly, developed a god complex. Some picked up debilitating scrupulosity in an effort to be perfect enough to be worthy of their people's worship, and their people developed scrupulosity in an effort to live up to their god's perfect example, and so it went in a vicious cycle until somebody finally got therapy. Some printed their titles on the party invitation flyers they tossed out on busy streets. For the Axolotl's part, he thought it was a useful designation to help with networking, but mostly it was a pain that meant he was put up on a pedestal for doing his job.

The Axolotl was a god of justice. Not the god of justice, but one. He held dominion over an abstract concept; over millions and billions of years, his words and decisions slowly, inexorably altered the idea of "justice" on a multiversal scale. Mercy, retribution, punishment, rehabilitation, equity, equality, fairness, and righteousness were like multicolored clays he could twist, squish, sculpt, and blend in his wet little salamandrine grip, permanently altering what those ideas meant to the mortals they affected.

Which was to say: he was a lawyer.

He was also known as a god of rebirth. Which was to say: he specialized in afterlife law. Before going into law he'd only been a psychopomp, but after having to escort too many despairing souls to afterlives he felt were too severe for their sins, he'd decided he wanted a say in where he took his souls. For a while, he helped clients get their charges reduced so they were eligible for a higher-tier reincarnation, or got their purgatorial sentences reduced. Though for a long time he'd steered away from damnation cases. He didn't always win—and those ones were too depressing to lose.

And then he'd thought he should be doing more. It wasn't enough for him to help his clients get the best option available under the system to which they were subjected; he wanted to change the system. He'd started pursuing bigger cases.

Now, he had a reputation.

For the past few centuries, he'd been working on a damnation case. He was defending a supervillain who'd developed a weapon that could slice open the fabric of spacetime so severely it could rip clean into another dimension—a mortal who'd committed an interdimensional crime against reality. The villain had died in the jurisdiction of an afterlife that had legalized eternal damnation.

Case law had long established that, unless other arrangements had been made premortem, the dead were to be sent to—in order—the afterlife of their birth, their death, or their choice, provided that the afterlife in question accepted them; and that they would be judged and sentenced by that afterlife's laws.

But if this villain had been extradited to his home world, the heaviest sentence he could have faced was a thousand years purgatory with an option for early reincarnation for good behavior after a hundred years.

So the jurisdiction he'd died in had summoned up some bureaucratic red tape to dismiss his native afterlife's extradition request, and he'd been sentenced where he'd died. Crimes against reality were often handled differently from regular sins; and the gods of vengeance in the domain where he'd died would love to see the courts declare that the gods who'd brought down a criminal against reality could call dibs on punishing him, rather than hand him back to his motherland. They hoped they would get away with it just for lack of anyone protesting the move. After all, everyone involved would much prefer that a mortal wicked enough to damage spacetime and obliterate multiple populated planets receive eternal punishment.

Everyone involved except the Axolotl. 

Taking this case hadn't made him many friends. He didn't care; he had his principles. Let an interplanetary supervillain be dragged away to a foreign afterlife just so that he can be forced into damnation, and next it'll be a planetary dictator; let a dictator be dragged away, and next it'll be a murderer; and next it'll be a burglar; and next it'll be a jaywalker that a psychopomp has a personal grudge against. If the Axolotl could establish that even the most undeserving mortal imaginable still deserved the right to be sentenced in his home afterlife, then he could ensure that everyone less evil received the same right.

If he had anything to say about it, in two or three trillion years he'd see eternal punishment outlawed completely; but untilthen, he was not going to sit idly by and let this flagrant abuse of interdimensional law become the new meaning of justice! He would get that supervillain out of eternal damnation, personally escort him to his native afterlife, and see him reincarnated on his own home world; and mark his words, he would rain so much bureaucratic hell on the judges and psychopomps that had let this abuse of justice take place—he would wreak such vengeance upon the vengeance gods who had tried to claim his client—that no god would dare keep a soul from its rightful afterlife ever again, or he wasn't the Axolotl!

All of which was to say:

Yes, unfortunately. This triangle was like the omnicidal monsters he represented every day.

And so he was appointed hostage negotiator.

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 7 of a probably-9-part fic about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl almost fucking die.

It's ALSO chapter 61 Part Seven of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: okay THIS is now probably the least cosmic-horrifying chapter of this arc. Which is a necessary interlude, because NEXT CHAPTER is the big climax woohoo!

Even if not much horrifying happens this chapter, I like the worldbuilding in it. The section on what being a god of justice means to the Axolotl was one of the first things I wrote for this arc.)

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 2

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, ED mentions.

Parts

Part 1// Part 2// Part 3// Part 4// Part 5// Part 6

Regina doesn’t say a word to you, or even glance your way.

She storms in and throws her bag down onto the bed next to yours, sweeping your clothes onto the floor with her hand. You open you mouth to protest but she cuts you off.

“Not a word, loser.”

Loser means she hasn’t got anything specific against you. No blackmail material, no weird rumours. Loser is a good place to be.

You sit on your bed and watch in silence as she starts to replace the pillows on the bed with her own pink pillows and satin blanket. She takes up over half the drawers for her own clothes, moving yours into a single pile at the bottom of the shared wardrobe. She puts her makeup and toothbrush, both varying shades of pink in the bathroom. She’s marking her territory.

“Don’t touch my shit.” She scowls, flips her hair and swiftly leaves the cabin. Her faint vanilla scent lingers in the air. It’s both intoxicating and sickly.

You wait a few minutes before you leave too, just to make sure you don’t accidentally bump into her and make yourself a target. The last thing you want is to be Regina’s plaything of the week.

Todays activity would be orienteering. You stand around the campfire pit, avoiding the crowd, waiting for instruction on where to go.

“Please stay in your room groups, follow the map you’ve been given. You’ll be taken to where your group will be starting, just follow the map back to camp. Everyone understand?”

There are excited chatters as everyone groups up with their friends. Unfortunately for you, the crowd parts to reveal Regina who’s giving you a look like she might murder you in the woods and leave you there.

You wait, in silence, next to Regina, for a camp member to pick you up in a jeep and drive through the forest to your particular starting point.

“Please don’t make me, don’t leave me here. I’m too pretty for this” Regina whines as the keep drives away, leaving you both stranded in a clearing.

Against better judgement you decide to speak. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go with Karen and Gretchen.”

“Whatever, just give me the map.” She snaps and snatches it from your hands. Wordlessly she stomps off through the trees. You have no option but to follow like a lost puppy.

As it happens, Regina isn’t a great map reader. And lots of the forest looks identical which makes it even harder. Your feet start to ache, you feel like you’ve been walking in circles for the past couple of hours.

“Can I please just look quickly, I trust you know where we’re going but I think I should still just look at the map” you try to reason which was clearly an awful move because she starts to turn around slowly to face you.

She moves,she’s stalking you like prey as she comes towards you.

“Are you calling me dumb?” She growls.

You shake your head, suddenly unable to speak, afraid that any sound past your lips would make her pounce.

“I’m reading the map, loser. I don’t want to be stuck out here any longer than necessary.” She spins around and continues her forward march through the forest.

This is going to be a long day.

It’s been hours since you or Regina said a word to each other, and hours since you started walking. You hadn’t stopped for a break. You managed to eat an apple while you walked, throwing the core into a bush but Regina hadn’t taken her hands off of the map to eat, drink or give you a look at where you were going.

You felt for your box of cigarettes in your pocket. Regina probably wouldn’t turn around or notice, and you needed one now, Regina is really starting to test your patience. Just as you put the cigarette to your lips ready to light ,Regina’s knee buckles and she trips slightly, heading straight for the ground.

Instinctively you go to catch her, both hands under her arms.

“Get off me weirdo.” She barks but it comes out a little more strained than usual. She’s gone pale and there’s a sheen of sweat across her perfect forehead. Somehow she’s still effortlessly beautiful.

She pushes herself up and tries to keep walking but her legs start to falter again and you rush forward again and catch her as she faints.

You try calling her name, shaking her gently, offering her water but nothing brings her round. Her hands feel cold.

Fuck.

In a panic you call the emergency number a teacher had given you and someone says they’ll come to collect you both in a jeep and administer first aid.

Regina comes round before the jeep arrives and you can feel the anger and embarrassment radiating off her. You try and think of something to say. She doesn’t speak to you the entire way back.

Everyone stares as they see you both come back to camp after being picked up but Regina plays it off well, bragging that she even gets treated like royalty here. You admire her ability to make quick excuses, and to be honest she still looks like royalty. Beautiful blonde hair cascading past her shoulders, icy blue eyes, sweet vanilla scent, outfit still perfect. Only you noticed the lingering sweat, the nervous look in her eye and the slight grass stain on the back of her jacket.

When the car stops Regina gets out and immediately goes to find Gretchen and Karen to sit together for dinner. Half of you is glad she’s gone, she was starting to get irritating, but you also want to make sure she’s okay. You go back to the table you were at before, you can’t help but watch her again.

Just making sure she’s okay, you repeat to yourself.

This time you watch her eat closely, notice she picks up food and when her friends aren’t looking and drops it under the bench onto the dusty floor. You wonder if that’s why she fainted earlier. You’re not sure why the thought of that makes you angry, and a knot forms in your stomach. It makes it hard to finish your food.

When dinner is over the teachers watch the three girls closely, making sure they go back to their newly assigned cabins. All three comply which means there’s a moody Regina heading your way.

You sit on your bed and pretend not to hear the door open, and keep your eyes fixed on your phone, pretending to read or maybe scroll social media.

The giveaway is that you forgot to let out the breath you were holding.

“If you tell anyone what happened I will ruin your life.”

You just nod, not daring to look up at her until you hear her lay on her bed and roll so she’s facing the wall away from you.

Then you allow your eyes to look at the sleeping lioness, her breathing seems slow. Maybe she’s asleep.

Your eyes trace down her curves- that is dangerous territory. You look away sharply just incase somehow she knows you’re looking.

She’s probably asleep.

You reach over to your bag and try and pull out your switch as quietly as possible. Mario kart, that’ll take your mind off of Regina.

You’re on your third lap when you feel the bed move and smell that addicting, warm vanilla scent.

“What is that you’re playing, dweeb?” It’s like she can’t even ask a normal question without it being insulting.

“Mario kart? Have you never played Mario kart?” You question her, meeting her gaze which seems slightly less intense than usual. To be honest, you can’t really picture someone like Regina playing a dorky game like Mario.

You disconnect the joy cons and throw one at her. She gives you a wary, icy look and picks up one of the controllers, scooting closer while still maintaining a large gap between you both.

You’re disappointed for some reason.

She obviously picks peach, and the pinkest cart, completely ignoring its stats which makes you giggle to yourself. You play as Bowser.

The first race you explain the controls to her, she picks it up quite quickly but you have years of experience on her and win.

She pouts and sends a glare your way. You stick your tongue out.

She giggles, Regina giggles and it might be the best sound you’ve heard. You definitely want to hear more. She doesn’t seem threatening like this. How much of Regina was an act?

The second race, she loses again, you win but not by too much, she’s definitely getting better. When you look over at her, her brows are furrowed and she’s completely lost in the game now, determined to win. The way she licks her lips when she’s concentrating makes you blush, and you’re glad she doesn’t look up.

The third game is nearly neck and neck but you beat her again. She finally snaps.

“What the fuck, you gave me a shit controller! I could have beat you!” She yells.

“Not my fault you suck at Mario kart.” You quip back bravely. She also sucks at losing apparently.

Suddenly she springs up and pounces, desperately trying to grab the controller off of you, but you hold on. You nearly forget why you’re holding it, mostly you’re squeezing the controller to distract yourself from Regina’s hair tickling your face, her lips being so close, her knees either side of your thighs.

She puts up a good fight but you start to see that familiar sheen of sweat and she seems cold and clammy all of a sudden. She must notice this because she huffs out a whatever and gets up, wobbling to her bed.

You miss everything about her suddenly, that one hit of the real Regina was enough to have you addicted.

She lays again, but this time face up, trying to control her breathing. You realise she’s on the verge of passing out again.

“I have a cereal bar in my bag, I don’t want it, you’re welcome to have it.”

She huffs and looks at you.

“I’m not accepting food from anyone after that stunt Cady Heron pulled. Who knows, you might be giving me a bar of lard.” She spits, but you can tell even speaking is hard for her now.

“It was just an offer.” You reply quietly.

Once she’s steadied herself again she stands and rummage through her bag, pulling out a half empty bottle of vodka and 2 plastic cups. She pours 2 shots worth into both and fills it with a fizzy orange mixer. She hands you a cup.

“You better not get too drunk and puke and get me into trouble like Karen.” She says as she takes a sip.

You both drink in silence for a while. The alcohol makes you feel warm and fuzzy, and a little too calm in Regina’s presence.

“Why don’t I know you?” Regina suddenly breaks the silence.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re not a new student, so why don’t I know you, I don’t know what you’re about.” She leans towards you like she’s inspecting you.

“I don’t know I just stay out of the drama.” You answer truthfully.

“Huh, boring answer.” She says taking another drink. “You’re friends with Pyro Lez though, that’s not exactly staying out of it.”

You shake your head “I only started hanging with them after that whole mess. Me and Janis have a mutual interest.”

“Is it girls?”

You stutter for a moment and see a glimpse of intrigue flash across Regina’s face.

“It’s art.”

You haven’t lied. That’s what connected you and Janis in the first place, it was a lucky dodge to the question.

She’s staring at you with an unreadable expression and you decide to stand awkwardly and get your cigarettes. You need a break from Regina, this feels all too much like she’s trying to uncover your weak spot.

It’s hard to tell what’s genuine or not.

You sneak outside to your spot from last night and light the cigarette, inhaling deeply, mostly from the butterflies in your stomach, bouncing around your rib cage.

Obviously you noticed Regina at school, who didn’t? But you’ve never had this much interaction with her. You can see why people fall victim to her so easily, there’s a side to her that seems so real, Is this part of her trap? Maybe you’re just easy prey but the chase is feeling all too thrilling.

Everything about her draws you in, golden hair, soft lips, even her scent. Are her lips as soft as they look?

Before you can register, the cigarette is pulled from your lips as you see Regina take a drag and then place it back between your fingers.

You skin burns where her hand brushes yours.

Suddenly she reaches to grip your hand, steadying herself. She clearly feels faint again. She’s swaying slightly and she looks like she’s losing focus.

“You need to eat something.” You state bluntly.

“Whatever you don’t know me.” She spits back, but she’s still gripping your hand. She starts to lean a bit too much.

“Fuck, Regina. Okay we’re going back inside.” You have to half drag her back inside the cabin and prop her up on the bed.

You check the cabins mini fridge, you brought enough food to sustain you that week. You didn’t know if the camp would have vegan food so better safe than sorry. Luckily the cabin had a mini fridge, probably for drinks but you stored some meals in there to keep fresh, and there was a microwave in the small kitchen.

You grab a pot and throw it in the microwave. Hopefully Regina doesn’t mind mushrooms.

She’s still laying on the bed, eyes squeezed shut, trying to get the room to stop spinning. You feel momentarily guilty for drinking with her, you knew she hadn’t eaten, it was a bad idea.

The microwave pings and you grab a fork and take it over to Regina.

“I’m not eating that, it’s probably processed shit.” It comes out as a defeated sigh.

“I made it, just eat something please, passing out wouldn’t be a good look” This makes her think, and she picks up the fork and takes a bite. The whole time she’s glaring at you so you decide to sit on the bed and play on your switch again.

You don’t look up for a good half an hour. Worried that Regina will stop eating if you so much as move. Clearly the whole thing with Cady has made her wary of food. The thought makes you feel sick. The plastics may rule the school but the constant insecurity that seems to come with it is too big of a price to pay.

A quiet voice breaks the silence.

“Thank you.”

You smile slightly but still don’t look up from your game until you hear shuffling and Regina is holding your sketchbook before you have time to snatch it back.

Your heart is in your throat, you’re not sure why her possible criticism of your sketch bothers you so much.

“This is beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, you idiot why don’t you see it, you think, but don’t say it out loud.

She tears the page from your book. Great, Back to cruel Regina, tearing up anything she doesn’t see as worthy.

What you don’t expect is her folding and placing the sketch under her pillow.

“I’m tired now.” She yawns and climbs into bed, flicking the lamp next to her off.

You’re left in the dark, confused, but you can’t help the small smile that creeps across your lips.

[a1307s]

Mating Season #1

(Garfield Logan Smut)

[Art is not mine! Credit to mothyx]

Requested by: Liviejc

Keys:

None

Word Count: 3653

Warnings and/or Pre-notes:

Biting

Scratching

Blood

Hickeys

Titty sucking

Oral (female receiving)

Breeding/pregnancy  

———————————————————————

     The sound of my boyfriend moving around the bed wakes me up. On instinct, I reach for Garfield. "You okay?" I ask, my fingertips brushing his bicep. 

     Recently Gar has been acting really weird. He's been super short tempered, to the point that Conner had to break up a fight between him and Bart earlier this week. Though, Conner thinks it was just Garfield being territorial instead of him being upset.  He might be right, Gar has been super clingy lately, so he probably misinterpreted Bart's behaviors. On the other hand, my boyfriend has been picking fights with everyone so I'm not sure what's going on with him.

     "Ya, I'm just warm," Garfield answers, moving closer so I can wrap my fingers around his arm. 

     He's right. His skin feels like it's boiling under my touch. About the time his anger picked up, his body temperature did too. "Maybe you should see a doctor," I say, propping myself up so I can look at Gar. 

     Garfield turns his head so he's facing me. His eyes are a bright green that stands out in the dark. His pupils are a bit slitted, reminding me of a cat. "I'm usually super warm, babe. You know, the whole 'animal kingdom' thing," Gar answers, trying to put my worries to rest.  

     "Ya, I know. You're just warmer than usual and you've been kind of moody. Maybe you're getting sick."

     "I'm not getting sick. I'm just a little warm."

     I sigh in defeat and lay back down. "We could turn down the heat," I offer, sliding my hand from Beasty's arm up to his hair. I softly twirl the ends around my fingers, soaking in the softness of it.

     "It's already at sixty-five. I don't want to make it too cold, you won't be comfortable then," He answers, eyes shut and soft purrs coming from him because of my petting. 

     "We could take the comforter off the bed and just sleep with the under-sheet."

     "Ya, but if you're too cold you won't be able to sleep," Garfield says again, opening his eyes to look at me. 

     "You're pretty much a personal heater at all times. If I get too cold, I'll just snuggle up closer," I answer, scooting over some to place a soft kiss on his forehead. 

     Gar doesn't answer so I pull off the comforter before laying back down. I snuggle up to him, laying my head on his chest and slinging my leg across the waist band of his pj  pants. It seems to help for a couple minutes, but not very long. Garfield starts shifting again, so I roll over to remove my body heat from him. He relaxes again, but again, it doesn't last long. 

     "I'm going to try a cold shower," he says, kissing my shoulder blade before getting out of bed.

     I hum in response but stay curled up in bed. It's silent for a second before Gar turns the shower on. After a couple minutes I start to think that maybe less clothing will help. With this thought, I reluctantly roll out of bed to change out of my long-sleeved shirt and fuzzy pj pants. By the time I'm changed - now in a sports bra and spandex - and back comfortable in bed, Gar is out of the shower. "Did it help?" I ask, sitting up in bed, causing the sheet to pool in my lap, and look towards the bathroom.

     "Ya," Beasty answers shortly, his eyes locked on me. "Did you change?" He asks, taking quick steps towards the bed. 

     "Yes, I did. I figured less clothing might help so maybe take off your shirt and pj bottoms before laying back down."

     Beasty hums, eyes still locked on me as he pulls his shirt off in one swift movement. He drops his bottoms, leaving him in his boxers as he crawls back in next to me. He lays down before wrapping his arms around me and tugging me closer. My mostly bare back is pressed against his chest. Gar's skin feels a lot cooler than earlier which brings a bit of relief to me. Maybe he was just a little warm. 

     I close my eyes and snuggle into him. I lay there, almost asleep, when Garfield starts moving his hands. They rest at my waist for a moment before sliding up my sides. It stirs me a bit, but not too much since I'm use to his wondering hands, especially when we cuddle. His hands slide from my sides, across the band of my bra before dipping down to my stomach. They rest there for a bit before sliding back up to my sides. "Are you going to sleep?" I ask, poking a bit of fun at my boyfriend.

     "Ya," Garfield says, his voice raspier than I thought it would be. "You just... feel really good on my skin," He adds, nuzzling his head into my neck.

     We're quite for a few minutes, the whole time I can feel his skin heating up again. "You should really see a doctor tomorrow," I whisper, moving my arm behind me to run my fingers through his hair. "Please?"

     "Fine," He whispers back, his arms tightening on me and pulling me closer. I can feel every inch of his scorching skin pressed up against me. Garfield shifts his head, gently pressing soft kisses against my neck. He makes a neat line down my neck and over my shoulder before working his way back up. Gar starts down again but rests against my jugular. He makes soft hums against my skin before gently sinking his teeth into me. He follows the line he made before, making soft nips along the way, but soon the nips turn into full out biting. He covers my neck and shoulder with teeth marks, sinking his teeth in as far as he can, causing a stinging sensation along his path. 

     "Hey, hey, hey," I yelp as Beasty starts to work over the bite marks again. "It hurts," I whine, trying to shrug him off.

     "I'm sorry," Gar whimpers, nipping into a pervious made mark, causing prickles of pain to overtake my nervous. "I can't help myself," He whines, running his tongue over the marks. This doesn't help the stinging. Garfield's hands slide back down from my sides, sliding between my legs to paw at them. "You smell so sweet," He bellows as his nails dig into the flesh of my thighs. 

     My heart skips, fear and arousal both rushing through me at Beasty's sudden roughness. In the past two years Gar has always been so gentle with me during everything. He's always so gentle when he intertwines his fingers with mine to avoid clawing me. Always careful not to accidently nick my lips with his canines when we kiss. Always only using feathery touches and making sure to go slow and gentle during sex. He has only ever once left a mark on me, and it tore him up for a month after. Beasty has never acted like this.

     My legs squeeze shut out of fearful instinct. "You're scaring me," I whisper, trying to pace my breathing.

     "Don't be scared," He mumbles into my ear, nipping at my ear lobe before continuing to add to the collection of teeth marks on my neck. Beasty's claws dig further into my thighs as he tries to spread them open. "Open your legs," He hisses. "Please," Garfield's voice softening for a second, sending a wave of relief through me before digging his teeth back into my flesh and starting the feeling of stinging pain all over again.  

     "Please," I whine, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. "You're hurting me, Gar."

     Garfield rolls onto his back, dragging himself away from me. In the process, he tears the skin of my neck where his teeth were buried and his claws tear into my thighs. Warm blood slowly trickles from the wounds. My legs shake a bit, but I can't tell if it's from fear or arousal... or both.

     "I'm sorry," Gar mutters, turning me to my other side so that I'm looking at him. His eyes are still slitted, like a predator looking at their prey and his jaw is clenched. "Did I hurt you?" He asks, running his fingertips across my thighs, causing the wounds to ache more. Garfield's eyes widen for a second before slitting more than before when his fingers come in contact with my blood. "I'm sorry," He repeats, wrapping his hands around my legs and pulling me onto his lap. 

     His body presses against me, my knees resting at his sides as the rest of me rests on his torso. The hold he has on my legs reminds me how defenseless I am against him. The thought makes me tingle, and this time I know it's both with fear and desire. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," Garfield repeats again, his eyes flickering from my face to my chest and then my pussy, back up to my eyes. "I just... you... I need... I want... I don't know what's happening," He stumbles over his words, his eyes constantly flickering over me as his hands rub up my legs, over my sides and rest on my chest. 

     He softly paws at my chest, his eyes locked there along with his hands. Garfield lets out a sigh of frustration, squeezing my boobs a lot harder than normal. "Are you horny? It's okay if you are," I say, wrapping my hands around his wrists to try and get him to loosen his grip a bit.

     "I don't know," He answers, letting go and resting his hands against my chest for a moment. Gar's eyebrows scrunch together as he thinks, his hands picking up where they left off, but his touch is softer this time. "I just... I don't know," he says, running his thumbs under the band of my bra.

     "What are you thinking about?" I hum moving my hands from my lap where they've been to run them over Gar's chest. 

     He stays quiet. I take the silence as a chance to line his chest and shoulders with soft kisses. After a couple minutes he stops me, moving his hands from my tits to my shoulders to push me back up in a sitting position. Gar places his hands back on my boobs, squeezing them hard like before as his thumbs start to work my bra up. "Take it off," He orders, glancing at my eyes before focusing on my tits again.

     "Gar-"

     "Take. It. Off," He growls, eyes glaring into mine before snapping down again. My knees squeeze his sides as my pussy tingles at his tone. Maybe I like Beasty being aggressive. "Jesus," He mumbles, sliding the rest of his fingers to the band and ripping the sports bra off of me before tossing it to the floor. The chilliness of the room hits my nipples, causing them to start hardening. "It's been making me so angry; seeing any other dude near you, let alone talking to you," Beasty says, his hands warming my chest up.

     "Is this about my disagreement with Bart the other day?"

     Once the words are out, Garfield flips us over, his weight pushing me into the mattress. My legs are sprawled out under us, and my arms wrap around his shoulders to try and steady myself. One of Gar's knees are pushed into my cunt, the other one is being used to prop himself up some. His hands are digging into the mattress on either side of my head and his eyes are glowing as they burn into me. 

     "Say his name again. Say it again, I dare you. I don't see him being able to sense your heartbeat from ten miles away. I don't see him being able to sense your smell from six miles away. And I certainly haven't seen him dipping his head between your legs every night to help you sleep," Beasty says, digging his claws further and further into the mattress after every sentence. "Do you ask Bart to pump in and out of you when you're horny? Is Bart the one you choose to spend your life with?"

     "No," I mewl out, closing my legs around his knee.

     "Keep your legs open," He orders, ripping my legs open and shoving his nails back into the claw marks he left on me. "For the past month, every time I've seen you sparring with a guy, talking to a guy, being anywhere near a guy, all I've thought about is leaving pretty little bruises all over you so that everyone could see that I'm fucking you. I don't want too. I don't like having those thoughts but they're there. And then, ever since your pretty little body started letting off your ovulation pheromones all I've thought about is putting a baby in you. Thought about filling you up, watching you walk around with my baby in you, seeing your pregnancy waddle when your tummy gets all big and round."

     "Gar-" I start but he cuts me off by bending down and taking one of my nipples into his mouth. "H... hey," I whimper, shoving my hands into his hair. He lifts his hand to paw at the breast not in his mouth. He sucks on me for a while, most definitely leaving a bruise before switching to the other side.

     When he's satisfied with himself, Gar lifts his head up to look at me. His eyes have gone soft and are no longer the predator slits from earlier. "I'm going to leave bruises on you, okay? I'm sorry. I need to. I really really need to. I need to make you hurt. I'm sorry," His words come out almost as cries. 

     "Beasty-"

     "I know. I'm sorry. I don't want to, but I need to. I don't know. It feels like... I don't know. I'm sorry," Gar says, constantly repeating himself as he rubs my hips and nuzzles the unmarked side of my neck. "I can leave. I don't want to hurt you. It's just... in me... in my veins... I feel it, right there. Right under my skin. The need to prove I touched your body. The need to put a baby in you. I can leave if you're not comfortable." Gar murmurs the last part, running his tongue across my skin and rutting his knee against my spandex. "I need it," He whispers into my skin. 

     I can feel Garfield's tears against my skin as he holds me. I move my hands to his shoulder to softly rub them, trying to help him relax as he starts marking up my neck again. He was already rough on the other side but he's being a lot harsher this time around. By the third bite mark, I can already feel the blood tricking from the new wounds caused by him. "Beasty-"

     "I'm sorry."

     "Gar-"

     "I'm really sorry."

     "Garfield," I say a little harsher, moving my hands to his hair in order to tear his mouth off of me. "Beasty... I think you're in heat," I say, trying to ignore the increasing pressure building in my groin from the friction happening between my legs.

     "Ya, sure, whatever," he says, pulling my hand out of his hair and attaching himself to the first thing he can get his mouth on. His mouth works down my shoulder, across my collarbones and down my chest. He leaves hickies and bite marks the whole way down. 

     "Gar," I moan out, trying to get his attention but reacting to his tongue running just above the waist band of my spandex instead. "Garfield, please stop," I whimper, tugging on his hair again.

     He does listen, stopping the movement of his mouth and his knee. I'm left a bit sad from the loss of frication against my pussy, but he is just doing what I asked. "I'm sorry," he says again, his hands rubbing my inner thighs, spreading the blood that's been left there. His eyes are back to being slit but they're red and puffy now.

     "Baby," I say, softly taking his face in my heads. I force him to look at me as I rub circles on his cheeks. "I think you're in heat," I repeat, giving him a second to register what I'm saying.

     "Oh... oh! Oh, ya. That... would make a lot of sense," Beasty says, gently running his fingertips over my clothed pussy. "Though, technically it would be called 'rut' cause I'm a dude," he says, watching my legs close around his arm. "I really want to put a baby in you."

     "You... you really can't put a baby in me," I breath out, leaning my head back and shutting my eyes to soak in Gar's touch. 

     "But I really can," he says, using his free hand to pull my legs open again. Beasty dips his head down, going to leave hickies and more markings across my thighs. "Let me put a baby in you. Please?"

     "No... no baby, Beasty," I whimper, my legs starting to shake from the stimulation and the pain starting to gather from the new and old marks. 

     "Please?" He asks again, wrapping his fingers around the bottom of my spandex, starting to pull them down. Once he gets them off of me, he starts licking over the newly exposed skin, leaving my pussy untouched. 

     He teases me, running his tongue and mouth close to my cunt but not close enough to continue the stimulation I want. "Stop teasing," I beg, trying to unwrap his arms from my legs.

     "Let me put a baby in you and I'll stop teasing," Garfield comments, slowly running his tongue through my folds before lifting his head up to leave bruises along my hips. I whine, getting a retaliation of his claws digging into my legs again.  "I'm going to fill you up by the end of my mating season so you might as well let me now."

     "Gar... please... you... you can fill me up all you want after... after my ovulation, okay? Stop teasing. You're bruising every... every inch of my skin. The least you can do is... is make me feel good." 

     He hums, thinking over my words for a second before ducking in between my thighs. His tongue slithers over my clit a couple times before he latches on it. The feeling mixed with the sound of Garfield suckling on me fills my head. My fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his head further as I grind against his tongue. 

     Beasty continues for a few minutes until I come unraveled on his tongue. He stays down there, slurping up my juices before popping his head up to look at me. "I want to cum in you," he says, wiggling two of his fingers into me. 

     "You can't," I say, shifting around to try and get his fingers deeper in me. 

     "Please? We can get the Morning After Pill tomorrow," he says, pretty much begging before he sinks his teeth into my stomach to mark me up even more.

     "Fine... fine...," I mumble, using his hair to pull him up my body. 

     He smiles up at me, nipping at my breasts as he pulls his dick out of his boxers. "Say it," Gar orders, poking his tip in and out of me. 

     "What?" I ask, digging my nails into his back as I try to pull him forward so I can feel more of him in me.

     "Say you want me to fill your pussy," Beasty says, working his way from my breasts back up to my neck. "Say you want me to try to put a baby in you."

     "Please fuck me, Garfield. Please fill my pussy," I whine, finally winning at my tug-of-war. Gar sinks into me, wasting no time to bottom out. 

     "Good," He murmurs against my skin, bring his hands up my body to pin my wrists down. His thrusts are fast, and hard, the complete opposite of what I'm use too. It doesn't take many thrusts before my hips start to hurt. "I'm going to put a baby in you," Gar whispers into my ear, his claws digging into me as he recks my hips. "You're going to get a nice big belly and a cute little waddle. Your titties are going to swell up and get big and heavy. Then, as soon as possible, I'll fuck another baby into you.  Over and over again until I give you a nice big litter."

     "I don't want a baby," I whine, trying to pull my wrists out from his grasp. 

     I can feel Gar's smile against my ear. "I know baby... I know... It'll be okay." I whine from under him, wrapping my legs around his waist as his thrusts get sloppy. As I'm getting closer, the walls of my cunt tighten around him, not helping the sloppiness he's already experiencing. "For someone that doesn't want a baby, your pussy is trying awfully hard to milk me," He teases, sinking his teeth into my neck again. Beasty thrusts a couple more times before he buries himself in me as deep as possible. His teeth dig deeper, breaking my skin again, as he bottoms out.

     Garfield slumps over, laying on top of me as he falls off his high. His hands are heavy as they slip on to my hips. Our bodies stick together from a mix of sweat and cum. The room is quiet for a couple minutes, nothing but our heavy breathing to fill the room. "I'm going to fuck you again," Beasty says, slipping his hands down my legs to wrap them around his torso again. 

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

[miniwheat77]

Give into me. (König x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, Smut, rough p in v sex, unprotected sex, König manhandling reader a bit, lot of blood and violence, sex pollen, poorly translated german, (sorry if I missed any.)

This is NOT proofread because I am lazyyyyy. Hope you enjoy :)))))

Your boots make the faintest of sounds as you trek through the forest, it’s dense, the air is cool and it’s humid. It’s something you’ve never experienced before.

You weren’t exactly new to being in the military but you’d had little experience outside of the base considering there wasn’t much war going on as of late, which was a good thing. Until of course another country stuck their nose in business that wasn’t there’s and started one.

You’re in alliance with them, and have to come when they call for you. That’s what friends do.

So here you are, fighting in a war that isn’t yours. In unfamiliar territory. Terrified.

You’re standing close to your Colonel, the massive man is like a shield in front of you. He may be quiet, but he doesn’t hide very easily. He’s a stern man who doesn’t say much. But he offers comfort to you somehow. Being close to him makes you feel better. A whistle leaving his lips has you stopping right in your tracks. Almost running into him. He holds his hand up, motioning for everyone to stop. You don’t know how long you’ve been walking for, or where you’re even going. You’re frozen, and when the first shot rings out, you freeze.

König crouches down from the shots, retreating into the tree line and yelling orders, watching as his soldiers are taken off guard and ambushed. You’re closest to him, finally snapping out of it and jumping out of the line of fire. König grasps hold of your backpack, tugging you into him. “Stay still.” He breathes.

It’s silent.

Your entire group aside from you and König are dead.

You’re staring in shock.

“Konzentriere dich, sieh mich an” he reaches out, holding onto you. “Focus.” He says it again so you understand. “The only way we’re getting out of this alive is to be completely aware of our surroundings.” He breathes. You nod your head. His accent is strong and it makes your head fuzzy. You can hardly focus, ears still buzzing from the gunshots.

Your eyes trail to your mates, who are all dead now. It makes you sick, but this is the harsh truth about the military. You and König manage to slip away unharmed, creeping your way into their base where they are taking refuge. The only way to infiltrate and win is to be quiet and tactical. König’s stealth and ability to stay hidden surprises you. He’s clearly had years of experience. His heart rate stays the same, never elevates. He doesn’t even seem nervous.

Maybe this was the wrong mission for you to come along on. You follow behind him into the building, he’s equipped with a silencer and a knife, which is how he’s killing each of them.

You can’t deny it, and even in the worst time in the world to find someone attractive, he still is. He’s strong and smart. He’s good at what he does.

“Clear.” He mumbles.

You’ve got a knife in your hand. Covered in blood that may or may not be yours anymore. You don’t know. “They’re hiding something here. Time to find out what it is.” He mumbles. You nod your head, following behind him like a lost puppy. You decide you need to stop, show him that you can handle yourself so you branch off. Viewing a couple of the rooms. You don’t see anything, they look just like normal offices to you. Until you step foot into the last one. Your gun is raised, just in case. Pushing the door open. Your eyes widen. “Uh.. Colonel? I think I found what we’re looking for.” You say. He walks in, eyes going wide when he see it.

There are some rats and rabbits in cages, they’re still in tact but there’s something going on. You take a step closer, looking around. Noticing most of the rats have babies in their cages. You look across paperwork, trying to figure out what it is.

König opens up a filing cabinet, it’s full of small silver briefcases. He takes one of them out, opening it up.

There’s 5 small syringes in the briefcases. Bright blue liquid. “Looks like window cleaner.” You smile. Earning an eye roll from him. “You read anything?” He asks. “Reproductive drug.” You nod. He looks confused. “It’s meant to kick your reproductive system into overdrive, meant for people who struggle to conceive. There’s a lot of money in this.” You look at him. He nods. “verrückte Leute” he mumbles under his breath. “What happened to these ones?” He asks. There’s a few rats dead inside of a cage.

“If you don’t.. conceive. You die.” His eyebrows raise, but you can’t see it because of his mask. “Christ..” he mumbles. It’s silent.

Too silent.

A vent being kicked open from above has you both flinching away, hiding behind furniture in the room. You watch above, worried.

You hear the clinking sounds of something falling into the room, landing right in the center. It explodes and blue smoke fills the room. It sends you and König into a coughing fit, exposing you to the drug you’ve just looked at. “Fuck!” He yells. Drawing his gun and firing up into the ceiling. He hears something collapse up above.

“Bleiben Sie sitzen, Sergeant!” He yells. You know what this means, not moving a muscle. You don’t want to die today. Not like the others. Blood begins to drip from the bullet holes in the ceiling, becoming easier to see as the smoke dissipates. König had eliminated your assailant. You stay still, your body starting to feel warm. “Clear.” König says. “For now.” He breathes. He lowers his gun, fastening it back into its holster on his hip. His hands are getting more and more appealing as time passes. Your blood is pumping through you quickly, the only thing on your mind is what he must taste like. What his skin must feel like.

He snaps in front of your face. “Passt auf” his stern voice is enough to make your knees weak. “Sorry Colonel.” You blush, looking down. “We need to find an antidote. Look around.” He says. He’s starting to feel it too, but it’s moving slower through him because of his massive size.

While sifting through papers, your hands are shaky.

The throbbing between your legs is getting harder and harder to ignore and you’re getting distracted. Eyes following König as he sifts through paperwork.

You’re rocking your hips into the chair beneath you, the warmth becoming harder and harder to ignore. “F-fuck-“ you whimper, which draws his eyes to you.

They widen slightly at your appearance. You’ve shed a layer of clothing, all that was left was your shirt and cargo pants. The rest is discarded somewhere in the room. “Are you okay?” He asks. “No- need to find s-something.” A moan leaves your lips. “Anything.” You whimper. Sliding your hips forward again, body begging for some kind of friction. His pupils darken, feeling himself harden in his pants. He needed to find that fucking antidote. Now.

He’s sorting through paperwork, but not finding anything. As he reads across the papers, the only thing going through his mind is the both of you dying at the tail end of a success, he doesn’t want those soldiers dying in vain, for nothing. He stands up, maybe they needed to look in another room. “Come on, wir schauen uns woanders um” he mumbles, pulling you along. The warmth from his hand has your knees buckling again but you catch yourself as he pulls you along. You’ve lost every bit of control you have. You’re seconds away from shedding your pants and relieving the ache between your legs.

He pushes you back into a chair and you tilt your head back, groaning out. König is sweating under his hood, he’s rock hard. He’s desperately searching through paperwork, looking for anything.

Finally, he gets his hands on a paper.

He reads across the paper, but it’s too late.

There are stages to the drug, and you’re both already passed stage 2, which is when the antidote needs to be administered.

It’s fuck or die now.

König sighs. It’s the only choice the both of you have now. “It’s too late.” He breathes. “What?”

“I found the cure but it has to be given sooner. Too late.” He breathes. “So.. what does that mean?” You breathe. “It means.. we give in. oder wir sterben” he breathes. “Fuck..” you whine. You grasp the hem of your shirt, you can’t take it anymore. You need his hands on you. “König, please.” You breathe. “I know you feel it too.” You pant. He moves closer, kneeling down in front of you. “What do you want me to do?” He breathes. “Just..” you reach for his hand, placing it on your own thigh. “Please- fuck me Colonel.” You mewl, pushing your hips forward. He breathes. He chews on his lips nervously. If he does this, there’s no going back.

He pushes his hand up your thigh, higher. Feeling you tense up, pushing your hips closer to him.

“Scheiß drauf” they’re the only words out of his mouth before he closes the distance between the both of you, pulling you down onto the ground and pushing the chair back away from you. He hovers himself over you, tugging his hood off. Right now, he didn’t care. The only thing he cared about was feeling how tight you’d be around him. He tugs his gear off, you start pulling the remainder of your clothes off beneath him as well. Once he’s got himself exposed enough, he’s burying himself into you.

The relief you feel seems impossible, it feels like fireworks are going off in your stomach.

You can’t stay still beneath him, squirming. You can hardly stay quiet.

Despite how desperate he was, König was still on high alert, which is how he managed to hear footsteps. He clamps a hand over your mouth, reaching for his gun. He halts his thrusts for just a second. You rock your hips up into him, he flinches at the pleasure. “Ah- Y/N. Stop it for a second.” When you don’t stop, raising your hips into him over and over for any friction, he groans out. “Verdammt, Liebling” he breathes, just then, a man steps into the doorway. His eyes going wide. “What the fu-“ König pulls the trigger before he can even finish his sentence, throwing his gun down and rocking his hips into yours. He grasps hold of you, lifting you up with him. He stands up straight with you. He backs you up into a wall, holding you steady as he he fucks into you harder. He can’t seem to focus on anything but you. Doesn’t care that he’s just killed a man while he’s buried deep inside of you, and it doesn’t seem like you care much either.

“So desperate.. didn’t even flinch.” He breathes. “dreckiges Mädchen”

He wraps his hands around you, squeezing you tight and holding you still as he rocks his big cock up into your weeping hole. You can’t stay quiet, whining out as he fucks into you. “Colonel, please-“ you whimper. “So so good.”

He bites down onto your shoulder, feeling you tense up in his grasp. Another string of moans leaving your lips. You can’t get enough of him, no matter what.

König feels like he could spend hours inside of you. Rocking his sensitive cock into your hole until neither of you can take anymore. Rubbed raw and sore from the friction. He’s getting close, he can barely handle it. He’s got to make you his. Fill you full of him. He grits his teeth. “Ah! Going to cum-“ he gasps. He sits back into a chair, and you lift yourself up onto him, riding his cock through his high. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you move against him. He cries out, cock twitching hard as he fills you up with his cum. Gasping out at you overstimulating him. You keep riding him, desperate for your own release. He’s sensitive but he’s not the kind of man willing to deny you of an orgasm. Not like this. “Fuck- riding my cock like this.. like a fucking bitch in heat.” He growls. Rocking his hips up into you. Thrusting up as you ride him like your life depends on it.

“Nimm was du willst, I’ll give it to you.” He breathes. A cry leaves your mouth from deep in your throat. One last thrust up from him has you crumbling, sending you spiraling. It’s by far the hardest you’ll ever cum. You raise your hips up once more, sliding back down onto him and halting. Cockwarming him as you sit there, coming down from your high. His hands are still at your hips, gripping you. You’ve still got your head buried into the crook of his neck, panting into him.

When you finally pull away, getting a good look at him, you breathe out. “I’m sorry.” You blush. He smiles. “Nothing to be sorry for. Let’s get the hell out of here, talk later.” He breathes. His English is very blunt, but he’s trying.

You gather up all of your clothing and everything else you’d need, preparing yourselves for exfil. You didn’t know how this was going to work.

As you wait for the exfil chopper, he finally looks at you through his hood. Loving eyes glaring down at you. This mission should’ve never happened. But despite the death toll, despite everything that went wrong. The newfound feelings for your colonel. The baby that was most likely to come from this. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

[anders-holmvik]

can we talk about 8x06 confessions because id love to talk about confessions...

buddie analysis in this ep is well worn territory for good reason bc it was nuts so TRUST i agree w all of it but i wanna talk about eddie solo

first of all lets compare eddie's relationship with religion to bobby's:

in s1, when things become awkward in the confessional between bobby and father brian, bobby suggests that they move out into the pews and sit in the open, and that's where he confides in the priest man-to-man, not man-to-servant of god. and this is because bobby understands his transgressions, how the fire was technically not his fault because the building wasn't up to code, but it was also his fault because it was caused by his core issues (his addiction). Bobby's relationship with god is unwavering and he knows that god forgives unconditionally, but he craves human connection as forgiveness which is why he brings the priest out of the anonymity of the confessional box and out into the open pews. notably, once he opens up to buck chimney and hen about his past, he finds himself a lot lighter and no longer seeks the church for guidance as much even tho he remains explicitly religious. this is pushed further when he and athena bond over church, but it is essentially this human connection beyond his uniform, his "disguise," that starts his healing journey.

eddie, on the other hand, does not seek to connect personally with the priest. when things get awkward in the booth, he doesn't try to connect w him as a man because eddie is looking to be absolved by god. in fact, he pushes harder for the priest to reaffirm god's disappointment in him. he's been spiraling and cycling for so long that he doesn't know where else to turn other than the church. but then he hears from the priest that god provides unconditional love, and eddie doesn't accept that, so he leaves.

no one else around him knows that he's punishing himself in genuinely every aspect of his life so they can't absolve him (which probably wouldn't even make him start to forgive himself because neither chris nor his parents have and he feels like he wronged them personally) so it isn't until the priest, coming upon him accidentally outside of the church, not in uniform but dressed in white (like an angel) opens up to him man-to-man over the seemingly small punishment of choosing water over juice. and the priest is the only one who can connect to eddie in this way because he's also a servant by occupation.

and it's low hanging analysis but the obvious reference to the story of jesus and turning water into wine is invoked here, which is also a metaphor in the bible about balancing work and joy in life.

so eddie is absolved, not through some godly sign, but just by the priest coming to him as another human because god already forgave him because that's what He does. but only because it came unplanned from a Godly figure at a location OUTSIDE THE CHURCH does it work. and he takes off his disguise. This is crazy work because eddie considers himself to not be superstitious or religious yet is the deepest believer in signs and punishments …

the other thing this ep does is that even outside of eddie's storyline, a lot of it is About Eddie. The well call, the divorce call, the cold open call about being "haunted" by a dead woman. The well and divorce calls were for chimney and buck's developments respectively, but they're directly tied to eddie.

the well being the well #obvi but the divorce call first styling the wife like shannon, then featuring the man who sneezed (little outbursts) after telling lies, which resulted in him rupturing his sutures and spilling out. it's a metaphor for repression. i said that as a joke over on twitter a few days before the ep aired but then it actually rang true.. he tried to hold it in and still get away with lying, but it caught up to him and now he metaphorically can't take the truth back because its spilled out. CRAZY WORK. chad and andrew we may need to have words

[vampyrial]

A World For Her Alone | Sisyphus

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16

cw (chapter specific): child neglect, very vaguely implied forced prostitution, death, abuse, poisoning, suicide, mentions of pregnancy and childbirth, arranged marriage, infidelity

pairing: claude x fem!reader

summary: we take a brief intermission from claude's suffering to examine what the fuck is wrong with reader's family

author's note: me and my husband we're sticking together🎵

Claude lingered around your parents’ manor like a ghost after you died. In the middle of the night, every night, he found his way to your bedroom, standing at the foot of the bed you’d died in, remembering the shape your body formed in the sheets. The room still smelled of your blood and sweat, though the room had been cleaned up by the maids as soon as your body was taken out of the room. Your absence was starker than your presence. After the funeral, Diana expressed that she wanted to go home, heavily implying she would leave if he came with her but Claude was no longer beholden to her wants. He had no reason to care whether she came or went.

He was wielding grief as the knife he held up to cut deeper into himself in hope that if he only suffered enough, his hands would wash clean of your blood. But in the end, he had already decided to live, if only because he could do nothing else. Morbid thoughts plagued him, swirling around his head like unquiet spirits begging him to give in. He thought perhaps he should cause his own ruination and this time, live with it. He thought he should make for certain that both of your houses are set aflame and collapsing on top of the lot of you, to bury and burn your sycophant parents, his helplessly selfish wife and even his own child. He thought that nothing should be spared from complicity. He knew not anymore if he truly believed that it would save you, or if this was what some divine terror was willing him to do even still, but he began to long for punishment. It became catharsis, the thought of being punished.

He roamed through the house you grew up in, searching for any trace of you that survived, as if some inkling of you would help him to save what had already been lost too many times. Even so, it was automatic for him at this point, no longer even really a choice. He had no direction, only frantic need pulling him toward the doomed task. He was trying to get to the dregs of a goblet of wine which never ran dry, he kept drinking until he was sick but never satisfied, never finished.

Your parents’ manor was an eerie place, he’d always thought. Wind blew in from an opened window in the hall and the house seemed to breathe, and its hollow bones creaked softly. Despite her gentle ultimatum, Diana could not actually follow up on it, she must have known that but she believed better of him at the time and thought that everywhere she went, he would follow her like a lovestruck teenager again. There were things to be done at manor that she could not neglect as its lady even if he chose to neglect his own duties. She had come into her own as a marchioness, no longer the shy and unassuming lady that lay in bed sick day in and day out. She would not leave the territory without management though he knew she desperately wanted him to come back home. She seemed dazed to return home without her husband for that purpose, for the lament of a sister she had infinitely more right to grieve so egregiously. Even after all those years, the silly girl was only just beginning to grow aware of the disparity of marriage.

Somehow he felt it was hard for her to reconcile that she wasn’t a precious young lady anymore. Even as he was mired in a pool of half catatonic grief, she dared ask him to leave with her because she truly expected he would do so if she did. Had she not grown out of the habit of expecting to be near worshiped no matter what that her parents instilled her? He remembered how she was after your funeral, when he was sitting in the dark of a guest room. She had come to him, tried to hold him, to kiss him; believing all this would be a comfort and not a further indignity. She’d had arrogance enough to look hurt as he pulled her from him and recoiled from her touch. She must have still believed she was the cure to all ills because she was once more in a house where she was always treated as though she truly were.

He found his way to the library where you’d spent much of your life, if Felix’s word was truth. He brushed his fingers along the spines of the books, looking for the one that he left his missive in, the one Diana read and did not want understand. He searched through the categories of books that contained subjects you three would have studied together as he could not remember which particular book it was, but even after pulling all the books and flipping through the pages, he couldn't find the letter. He wondered if you had ever even set eyes on it once before Diana got to. Had it been your catalyst to run away? Had you read the note and understood that the effort of trying to be happy at his side was a fool’s errand? Was he again the cause of your downfall?

As he gave himself to thought of you, he continued looking through your family’s collection of books. It was all fairly standard and even a bit utilitarian, lacking any of the fanciful novels so beloved by many young nobles. He assumed if there were any, they’d be in Diana’s room because they’d be bought for and read by her alone. But there was something that struck him as he roamed around the shelves, his eyes scanning aimlessly for a book that looked as if it had been perhaps been misshelved. It was subtly tucked into the highest shelf but it still stood out to him eventually among droll guides, needlework books and encyclopedias emblazon with gold lettering. It was hastily bound looking more like a journal and it was worn, unlike the rich and well maintained leather of the other books and it was small, leaving a wide gap between the top of the shelf and the top of the book. Its spine did not read a title.

When he pulled the book, he understood what it was. Its title read “The Princess and The Knight,” signifying it was some common, tawdry romance novella. Still, he began to read it, the absurdity of its place in a house so heavy and serious intriguing him. Could this book have belonged to you? Could it have been an escape for you who was locked firmly out of girlhood when you were only just betrothed? When he’d read the title, his mind flashed with the memory of your face as Felix’s body fell into the dirt in front of you. He remembered how fiercely Felix had protected you even in this life. The rage and grief in his voice when he came for retribution. Though he knew you were ever dutiful and if there was love between you and Felix, it was never more than courtly, maybe you had seen this book and it had reminded you of some place where it could be more.

The story revolved around the love affair of a princess from a bloodline with an affinity for magic fleeing her country at wartime and being assigned a knight from the neighboring kingdom she sought refuge in. The two began a passionate and sanguine love affair in secret, all while living under of the tension of war and the threat of both of them losing everything to their love. But when the war was won, thanks in part to the wits of the two characters, and peace spread over the kingdom, she and her knight were able to be wed and live happily ever after. He had been searching for you in the pages, interpreting the knight and the princess, looking for traces of a love you might have had once. He had been looking for you so closely in every word that he hadn’t realized the grander scale of things until the end; when he flipped over the last page to read the epilogue, on the blank side of the page he saw a sketch. 

The drawing was finely, intricately done in ink and resembled…Diana. The owner of this book had drawn Diana so vividly, yet there were a few differences in the likenesses of the two. This woman had long spools of curly hair spilling over her shoulders and a mole near her gently smiling lips. She was older than Diana must have been when the book was written. She looked like the heroine that had been described in the novel. For some reason, he found himself fixated not in awe or admiration but in mind numbing shock. He could feel the love that went into each stroke of the pen and a knot formed in his stomach the longer he stared. It was uncanny in a house like this, to find anything that should mark vulnerability or simple folly. He recalled an occasion where your father had gifted her a portrait he’d made of her and their daughter. Though two different mediums, the style looked so similar. From what Claude saw, it seemed that your father seldom made art of anyone but Diana. Your father surely had not been so passionate about a throwaway romance that he had ignored his bias and poured so much love into an image of the heroine.

The only one who could be so brazen as to have a romance novel among his books wherein which they lovingly drew an almost intimate image of a woman, worn with the spine slightly bent from being handled so many times— not even properly hidden away, would be your father. Your father who paraded his illegitimate child, born from a mistress. The revelation gave him pause. What did Claude truly know about Diana? He couldn’t remember having ever asked her if she’d known her mother because she so resolutely accepted the countess as her only mother. But this woman sketched onto the page of a well loved romance, was this her mother? She looked as if she could be. Portraits of Diana hung in exposed parts of the house, he did not seem to care that the custom of having an illegitimate child was to have them separate from one’s “official” family, to not love a child born of one’s own lust so openly. Even if one had a particular love of their mistress and child, he would simply put them up in a nice mansion close enough for him to come and go but your father had your mother raising his illegitimate child. He celebrated her birthdays lavishly and even allowed her to go to the academy. He absolutely refused to hide her, to show shame in her. So why was this woman Claude presumed to be Diana’s mother who was clearly beloved by him even now, shut up in the back of a romance novella?

A thought occurred to him then, that perhaps the otherworldly force pulling him into Diana, entangling him in her was not otherworldly at all. Perhaps it had not originated in him alone as some primordial curse formed around him before there even was a him. He thought of just how besotted he was with Diana the first time he met her in each life, how the greater part of him felt foreign. He thought of your mother’s unusually devoted love for a child that wasn’t her’s, a product of her husband’s disloyalty. Something inside him thought that the answer lay at Diana’s feet. In her very blood, he was convinced, was the answer. 

Such a tenderly written romance, signed with a carefully drawn illustration of the woman who could be Diana’s mother. The part of “The Princess and The Knight” which struck him so was the bit about the princess possessing capacity for magic. It was not mentioned much nor utilized greatly in the plot but it made an impression. Magic users had decreased over the years, their powers waning until they were unheard of entirely. To anyone else who read the novella, it must have given the story to a bit of fantasy but to Claude, it was almost uncanny. He could not take it for an unassuming romance. To him, the story hid some truth under its veneer, for it was no coincidence that the princess resembled Diana so and that it ended up under the same roof as her, worn with years of eager hands flipping back over the pages. The princess’ power was never described in detail but if she were based on a real woman, then perhaps she had something to do with his situation.

He might’ve gone to Diana right then for answers but he feared his body might be taken over again at any time. He did not want to see her, did not want to feel the familiar paralysis of affection reaching up through his body. He did not want to see himself bed her again while the memory stood frozen in his eyes. Each time he saw her after he’d been set free, he’d worried that it would happen again. That his body would betray his mind and he’d never find anything of substance to end the cycle of misery the two of you shared. And he was committed to the task of trying, even if he could never succeed. He was ready to succumb to the greater sense of careworn madness he found in you.

He decided to explore the unattended corners of your home further, thinking there would be— must be more. If ever Diana’s mother had lived here, someone left a trace that he intended to find. He might’ve asked your father directly but as much as he was a lickspittle, something told him that your father would be afflicted by the same paralysis of mind that he had when he belonged to Diana. Unable to share the love he held for her but unable to hide it either, culminating in a pathetic sort of half-baked defensiveness. He wasn’t likely to get anything out of that, even you hadn’t been able to get anything out of him when he was like that. Worse still, he might try to cover up all that he kept that ever indicated Diana’s mother had lived there once, that she had a name and a face. And then what?

No, it was better this way. Better to find it all before he got the chance to hide any of it.

Your parents were still in the house, seemingly without intention of asking him when he was going to leave but there was still a bit of anxiety in the air when they entered the room. He could tell that they very much wished for him to return to their daughter and make her happy again as she was destined to be. It was awkward that their son-in-law had a longer bereavement than your sister did. But still being the cowardly sycophants they were, they could not ask him to leave for her sake—only “encourage” him by tossing out little updates on Diana. “Diana and our grandchild miss you very much,” “Diana takes ill so easily when she works so hard, we should hope you’ll be well enough to go back to her soon,” “Diana sends her love and wants you to know she’s there for your sake.”

Claude wouldn’t care if Diana’s life hung by a thread and he was all that could spare her, frankly and he brushed off all responsibility in favor of giving himself to his task. It was shameless, he knew, but he’d given up everything inside of the barren, hollow shell of his self to save you. It was a task that had already and would yet again supersede death, birth and the enveloping void he fell backward into each time his life was ended. He waited until they inevitably visited Diana, likely to calm her worries with lukewarm supplications about his grief, to go searching in the other parts of the house uninhibited. For, even if the servants were to tell their lord and lady, he’d already have looked through every corner he intended before they’d have a chance to move things around to better hide them.

He started with Diana’s old room. When he walked in, he was surprised to find it was left exactly as childish as it had been when she was only a young miss. Just the scent of the air turned his stomach, heavy and cloying with a pungent smell of medicine that was still sitting on her night stand in a small white bottle. He frowned as something fell clumsily into place. It hit him like the stray sour note of a violin. He recognized the bottle. Where did he last see this bottle?

For how preoccupied he was with the revelation taking slow form, he did not realize that Felix had entered the room until he heard the distinctive sound of a sword unsheathed. He did not turn.

“Felix.”

“Lord Claude,” Felix acknowledged, his voice struggling to keep its softness. “I might’ve known you’d be here. You truly cannot help yourself, it’s like a sickness.”

“Yes, it is very much like that,” Claude agreed easily. “But I’m not here for what you imagine I am.”

“I’m not so sure it matters, my lord.” Felix’s voice was flat.

“Nor am I. But I need you to let me live just as long as it takes for me to make sense of this.”

Felix went quiet for a moment but nothing about the situation made Claude think it was because the knight was going to hesitate. On the contrary, he was sure that his sword would swing just as neatly. “Do you know where I found my lady chained up, my lord? There are places, you know, that they bring women who had no other place to turn. You must know. You were at her side every night when we brought her back, you saw what toll it took. You saw what had been done.” Felix took a shallow breath. “You’re asking me to spare you so that you can make sense of whatever it is your farce of a marriage is built on? When my lady was given no such pardon? I know you’re the head of your house now, honored knight of the crown and you must think yourself above your treatment of others but I assure you, this will be the last time you ever assume so.”

Claude held still, his voice firm even as fear raged through his body. It was not fear for his life or of Felix’s wrath, it was the fear of failing, yet again, to make any movement in saving you. “I know how you think of me, Felix. I know that I have failed my wife. I know that I deserve to die here and now but even so, I can’t.”

“That is no problem, I’ll do it for you.”

Claude smiled joylessly to himself at the devout knight’s words. How could you have been judged so harshly in that life for wanting to run away with him when he so clearly had a loyalty akin to love for you? “You don’t understand. You cannot possibly. But answer me this, do you know who Diana’s mother is?”

The question puzzled Felix but he stood resolutely, ready at any moment to fell Claude’s head. “Everyone else in this household has care for Lady Diana. My duty was to serve my lady, I was the only one and I did not ever lapse. You’re asking the wrong person.”

“Felix, I do not ask for my wife’s sake. I know how this will sound but I’m trying to find out just what exactly it is that Diana holds over me and everyone else. I’m trying to figure out what exactly she is. You have seen it, haven’t you? The disparity between how people treat my wife and how they treat your lady. Do you think it natural to love a daughter born from an affair more than one’s own?”

He heard Felix laugh bitterly. “You believe her to be a succubus? Is that your excuse?”

“No. I believe her to be something worse.” Claude laughed as well, though his was more hysterical than anything. “She rules everything, Felix. Even in death. No, especially so in death. I have lived this life many times. I have died and returned back to the day that I first met her at the tea party. And when I do, I am taken over by her. It feels like love at first, it really does. But then intrusion. And then a curse. It is a cycle of death and resurrection, for myself and for the lady.”

Felix was silent and Claude continued on. “In one such life, she ran away with you, you know. It was raining the night we found you two. You were holed up in some abandoned cottage out there in the countryside, the one with the patches of white clover in the yard and a missing shingle on the roof.”

“What are you saying?” Felix’s voice wavered with near disbelief at the picture he painted but he held firm.

“My knights killed you where you stood and took the lady back to my manor. Your betrothed visited her. She had asked to speak to the woman who had been responsible for your death. She told me you two had planned to get married once the lady and I were finally married and settled in. She could not even mourn you properly because you were compelled to run away with the lady and killed.”

It is clear that Felix still thought Claude had lost his mind but what shocked him was the truth seeded into his madness. How could he have known the intimate arrangements of their betrothal and marriage when even their families had not known the cause for delay? This was not knowledge he could send an errand boy to fetch him nor an illusion he couldn’t hope to keep up, this was lived. It was memory.

“What does that have to do with Diana?” Diana was more likely a seductress than a sorceress in Felix’s opinion. Such a thing as a time loop, how could a girl so weak and childish create something like it?

Claude turned slightly, slowly toward him. “I don’t know yet myself. That is what I seek to find out. So that I can perhaps end it, for the lady at least. I don’t need anything Felix, not Diana, not my child, not my house. All I need and want is for the lady to stop suffering. I only beg you not to hinder me. When the time comes, I swear I will die on my own.”

Felix had no idea what to make of it all. Much of what Claude said seemed stilted, frantic and half thought. Yet he could not help but feel there was a certain sincerity to be had even in the worthlessness of Claude’s promise. And in any case, he was not entirely unfamiliar with the concept that Claude explained but all that it implied, he was not ready to believe. He sheathed his sword again finally and Claude turned to face him with the medicine bottle in hand. “Have you any idea why this would be in Diana’s room? It’s medicine that the lady took before.”

Felix’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. “It’s used to treat severe infection. It’s not supposed to be used by just anyone who gets ill. Lady Diana should not have needed that medicine, it would take effect like poison if not administered to someone battling a harsh infection. The doctor sent one of the servants to fetch it in town.”

“Yes, but this bottle is dusty, it’s mostly emptied out and the liquid inside it has congealed. It’s been sitting here for years. The medicine inside is aromatic. It has a distinct smell, doesn’t it? The lady’s room still reeks of it even with the windows opened up. Every time I went into Diana’s room when we were young, I smelled it, I tasted it. That means she was not only taking medicine she did not need but taking it regularly.” Claude said aloud, more to himself than to Felix who had bristled at the way he implied he and Diana were. “Was she…ever even sick?”

“Of course she was. Perhaps madame gave her the wrong medicine. She would not have poisoned herself, far be it from me to defend her but she did not desire to be sick. She seemed to envy the lady for her health, as she saw it.”

“…it was the lady’s mother who administered this medicine?” Claude questioned as new pieces fell together in his mind.

“I only know that the madame came to Lady Diana before bed to give her medicine. I do not know that it was that medicine, I did not see it.” Felix paused. “What is the significance, my lord?” He asked, annoyance creeping into his tone at the extensive talk of Diana.

“I intend to find out.”

He had wished to creep into the madame’s bedroom quickly and easily but the door was locked so they’d needed to fetch the key. Claude was shocked at the amount of sway he had over the servants of a house he was not a part of for the head maid simply handed over the key when he asked for it, albeit hesitantly as though she thought she might be scolded for doing so. When he took in the room, it was tidy and rather plain by aristocracy standards. The room seemed to have a chill about it, there was a draft somewhere that made it feel colder than the other rooms.

He began to pick carefully through her things, looking in every corner of the room for anything hidden. It was all mundane, droll and typical until he reached the last drawer of a dresser that was locked. Sure enough, nine bottles of unopened medicine neatly lined into rows of three. When he tried to pull the drawer out all the way and see what more he could find, it was caught on something that had been pressed against the top. Claude reached in to feel for it and pulled down what looked to be a simple leather bound, worn and yellowing journal.

Immediately he began to read. He was a bit startled at himself when he realized that he was eager to read the contents of his mother-in-law’s mind. He wanted to know how she saw you. How she justified treating you the way she did to uplift a child that was not her’s. A pitiful part of him just wanted there to be reason. He wanted cause for the rift in the relationship. He needed to believe there was a because to your suffering.

But what he read was not as he suspected. In neat, small lettering on the first page, it chronicled her life back to when she had been perhaps 19 years old but it was dated some ten years later. A reflection on her younger self written seemingly less as a journal and more a memoir.

“The princess had always been so gracious a mistress that even her tasks sounded like gifts.

When it was her time to return to her duties in her own kingdom, she resigned to it with great grace. However, she understood that the opposite would be true of her beloved knight. This fragile man only smiled in her company, protected her with wild fervor and once told her that he felt divinely guided to her. That to him, she was the symbol of god’s forgiveness and in serving her, loving her, he saw his life’s purpose. Oh, the princess lamented to me how dark a life her knight had lived, how the blood he shed as a knight haunted him with guilt. How his father had been of a violent sort in his efforts to transform his only living child into a knight of some worth to bring more prestige to their house and in his efforts to vent his own turmoil over his wife taking up with men of far more money, status and legacy than he. Her knight resembled his mother and so became the target of the ire he could not give his wife for the great protection being a mistress to such men afforded her. His mother knew what his father did, she did not care so long as it were not her. My heart came to soften for him too, the more she told me.

He had been a quiet man, shy and quite unknowingly sweet for his reputation as a ruthlessly skilled knight. He opened up to my princess like a flower toward the sun. He loved her so madly that she knew even though it was inevitable, he never intended to be where he could not protect her and stand at her side. The princess feared that their duties as princess and heir to a county respectively would give way to the knight’s devotion. She feared he’d kill himself trying to reunite with her or simply deteriorate under the burden of his own isolation but her own life was dedicated to more than just one person. It was her nation, her home of people waiting to see her return that she could not abandon. So in her stead, she asked me to stay in the kingdom and marry him. To give him a countess and to keep watch of him for anything he might do to interfere in both their duties.

It was a great honor she had given me entrusting someone so precious to me and given me a title higher than that I had been born with, I still feel that way now but I was foolish then and I did not understand the nature of what I was being asked to do. Nor would I until after it was already done.

You see (and it does, still pain me to even write such a silly thing), I did, at the time believe that I would become close to my husband. I viewed it as a matter of course, for I was far from a home I could never return to and he had no one. We were, for each other, the last traces of the princess. Though I could never think to hope for the kind of love that he gave to the princess, I believed that commonality could be nurtured into love or kinship. I wished for someone to turn to as my heart was sinking faster than a stone the longer I spent from my home. I believed it would happen. I believed he would become someone to lean on.

Though the first months of our marriage were cold, I managed to coax him into trying to have children as was our duty. I saw this as progress both in the way of our relationship as well as keeping him from the princess. I viewed even our coldness then as a sign of something beginning. It was only once, afterward, I think he worked very hard so that I would not ask him to do it again. But even so, I found that I was with child soon. I was a stupid girl then, I believed a child was what we needed to grow closer. I brought this news to him with a smile, I must have looked like an idiot.

My husband’s expression, I can never forget it. He was horrified at this revelation. He looked at me as though I’d announced a death. He looked at me as though I had wounded him. Then his beautiful eyes sparkled with unshed tears and his expression reverted to a weak, helpless smile as he said all the right things in his wavering voice.

It was then that I realized he would never love me. He was horrified at having a child with me, it was sheer terror and dread on his face when I told him. Perhaps he thought that I would not become pregnant at all, he would have preferred it that way. I hadn’t the relationship with him to truly comfort him, to know intimately what he feared about my child. I was useless in that way.

Through the following months, my apprehension was near unbearable. I kept feeling my stomach sink in dread, I kept waking up thinking that I would be home. I kept thinking that I had done something irreparable but I could think of nothing which was actually within my control. Therefore, when I finally gave birth, my relief that it was done with was greater than my joy. But that was alright with me because I had intended to deal with things in my own way."

From there, she went on to describe her rigid attention to being a diligent countess for a few droll pages. But at last, Claude came to another thing of significance. Your father had been summoned to court for political matters regarding the civil unrest which had not been quelled with the end of the war. Your mother could not follow him and leave a newborn alone so she had no choice but to simply trust in your father. She would come to regret that.

"My princess appeared like a bolt out of the blue months later. She was dressed as a peasant and had a somewhat bashful smile on her lips. Although I had missed her, all that I could think in seeing her was, "She should not be here."

But we brought her to the study so that presumably, she would tell us why she had returned when she had surely sworn that she could not. She took off her cloak and then I understood without her needing to tell me. I saw a little bump on her otherwise thin body and I was overcome. When my husband had returned to court, he had not been officially permitted to see my princess but they had met anyway and she was now with child. She had waited until she was just about to start beginning to show in order to take leave from court on the pretense of recovering from illness at her villa in the countryside.

I had been given the task of minding him but I had clearly failed. I should have gone with him no matter what. I should have taken the chance and left my child so that I could have prevented this. But my princess looked at me as faultless and took my hands in hers to assure me that she regretted nothing. She comforted my husband who apparently also knew nothing about this pregnancy until then. She knew his fears like the back of her hand, she knew exactly how to soothe them as I hadn't. He did not even have to speak. She simply knew.

Until then, I had not known that my husband dreaded having children for fear they would be cursed and afflicted with the same moral decay that his own parents had; and because he feared that having a child would bring the same thing out of him. Even if I had known, the princess was the perfect one to comfort him. She asked him if he believed a child born of her could be wicked and of course, he said no. She spun such sugary images of their child together for him with her eyes shining with joy. She told him that their child was special, that she did not fear him becoming a parent like his own because their child would change everything about being a father for him. It surely helped that my princess was glowing as she said such things, that the excitement radiating off of her grew stronger with each passing moment. He could not deny her, could not bring himself to contradict her words because he would always believe in her even if he did not believe in himself.

It went unsaid that the princess would be entrusting the child to the both of us. I had much apprehension about taking care of two babies rather than one and the secrets to be kept piling up above me but I could not complain, it had been my job for years to make everything work. I could not stop then when my princess needed me most. In any case, her presence in the manor brought life to a place that had become so eerie to me. She was the only flame in the dark and we were huddled around her, trying to preserve an ounce of warmth within ourselves. She was joyful through her pregnancy, she could not stop talking about the baby she was to have. The more she chattered, the more excited I became too as though I had any right to be. This was true of my husband too, who tentatively felt the kicks of his child and smiled, genuinely smiled as the princess did. I could see that he loved that child.

She slept in the master bedroom with him, after he left each day, I went in to help her get ready for the day. It was though I was still her maid and I suppose I wanted to be, would rather be that than a wife. But I could not bring myself to complain. I was not unlike my husband, I viewed my duties to the princess as somewhat sacred. I was as honored as I was anxious to raise the child.

On the day Diana was born, my husband was at my princess' side the entire time, as though he could protect her as her knight again. I could only marvel at him. When I had given birth, he stood at the foot of the bed stiffly and asked me what I intended to name our daughter, if I was alright and then told me that if I needed anything to have the butler prepare it at once. After Diana was born, my princess was still beautiful, perhaps even more so in her vulnerability. She held the most beautiful baby I had ever seen, close to her chest as my husband looked down at the both of them with sheer joy. It was as though all the happiness in the world existed between those three. My Diana had been born out of love and so it was easy to love her.

I left my own daughter to the maids in favor of caring for Diana when the princess rested. Her little ruby eyes and her head of soft blonde hair captivated me. Each coo or cry had my focus in a fraction of a second.

I had not yet considered the greater implications of her birth until my princess brought it to me. Diana had been born with an inordinate affinity for magic. The princess, as a member of the royal family had the capacity of a mage, it was kept secret through the death of magic that through her bloodline were those capable of miracles. I only knew after years of my proximity to the princess. This child, born in the time of civil unrest, when the queen had not yet been blessed with a child and the civil war had still bitterly divided the houses, was capable of being seen as a potential figurehead that could be used as a pawn in a new round of rebellion.

It was for me and my husband to put her above all things. Above even our own child. That, to me, went without saying for I did love Diana as my own daughter. But the princess knew that anything could happen and she used all of the strength of her magic to cast a spell over her that would be held with Diana's own great magic. My princess nearly expended all her energy to do so. Magic, she had once told me, was seen as a weak form of power because it relied so greatly upon emotion. It was the transformation of want into will. I knew not the details of the spell which bound my mistress' daughter. All my princess said was that her precious Diana would live happily, that for all the odds against her, she still had odds in her favor."

Claude felt numb as he turned the pages. He was in shock, suddenly the environment of the room felt too harsh and stimulating but he was glued to the journal. He could not dare stop reading it no matter what truths arose. So he flipped the page and read every single entry even as his hands trembled.

From then on, it was Diana, Diana, Diana. With each entry, she recorded a measurement which he assumed was the amount of medicine administered and her symptoms. She fretted over whether it was right to give her more or to give her less. She wrote about denying Diana's requests to go outside, to go to the theatre, to do much of anything besides stay in bed. It chilled him to the bone but more than that, perplexed him. He was staring at a page where your mother had seemed to write sloppily, hurried and anxious when he heard a voice.

"Lord Claude?" It was your mother, standing in the doorway.

He looked slowly up at her, at a loss for words and unable to reconcile the cold mother she was to you with her joy at being Diana's proxy mother. Unable, still, to understand why she was poisoning the daughter she loved so much.

"My lord, you should not be in here," she said softly but in her blank expression, it was apparent that she knew what he was there for. "It will look strange to others, for you to do something like this."

"You poisoned Diana," He was keenly aware of how delicately she was trying to dance around this subject but he was unwilling to indulge her.

Your mother did not even blink. "You must understand me, Lord Claude. Please understand."

"What is there to understand? You neglect your own daughter and fawn over your husband's illegitimate daughter only to poison her."

Your mother shook her head slowly as if she could not believe what he was implying. "I love that girl," she said, moving deeper into the room and shutting the door behind her. "Diana is my little princess. She is my only daughter."

A rush of rage ran up his body, carrying an unbearable desire to hurt her. "She's not your daughter at all. She's the daughter of a woman far more beloved than you."

But your mother could only smile helplessly. "Yes, but even so, she is my daughter in heart. You must trust me when I say that Diana was hopeless before."

"Hopeless?" His brow furrowed and a cold feeling creeped up his back, extinguishing his fury and replacing it with a kind of fear for the woman in front of him. "She wasn't hopeless, she was able to wed me, to live happily." He said it not as a defense of her but as an accusation.

"That poor girl. In the first place, she already had a weak constitution, because her magic was stronger than her body but it was the perfect excuse to keep inside and away from the eyes of those who would want to hurt her. But it was my eldest daughter who kept planting false hope in her. She even sent Diana before my husband to beg him to let her go to the academy because she knew very well he could not say no to her." There was venom in her voice, a sneer on her face. Claude rose to stand slowly, not knowing what he was going to do.

"He cannot say no to Diana because he loves her so, no, he loves her mother so," she sighed. "All the other one did was cause troubles. Diana had already given up but she roused such hope in the girl, false hope, cruel hope. If she had not been able to marry you...I do not know how we would have protected her. If my daughter was still alive, everything would be ruined. It was you who saved her, my lord. That is why I beg of you, don't judge me. You know that Diana is special. You must know."

"I did not want to save her, she did not need to be saved."

She remained with that pitiful smile on her face. "My husband is weak to her. He will...he will never forgive what I've done to our- his little princess. He won't understand. He will think that I have killed my princess. You know, he almost sees them as one in the same." She reached onto her desk, picking up a letter opener. "Diana will be hurt if she knows. I ask that you let the girl live her life believing as I told her. She deserves that much. I let her believe what I did because it was in her best interest. Please take care of her."

Before he could react, your mother plunged the sharp end of the letter opener into her throat.

Next

tags: @kage-tobiuo@kreishin @rosephantomhive@yeahdrarry@splaterparty0-0 @dear-dairiesss @qluvrv @hafsuhhh @eissaaaa @ayolk @doan-19 @fourcefulcupid@ariachaos@cerisearan@irisspade@yaesflorist@jcrml@xiaosprettygf@yevenly@amaris08atoshi012022 @obsessed-with-a-fictional-man @softbummiee@cassanderasblog @waka-babe @bananatwirl@s1mp69 @mitsuyamistress @hottiewifeyyyy @reiko69 @syyyy4ever @pinkpastel-l @dododododooosworld @gwyneveire @mvoonxlightv @noisyenthusiastface @coldpeachkitten @brightykitten @worstliving

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi! I really like your Donna x reader fanfics, they are super!!. I wanted to ask if you could write a fanfic where the reader is Donna's secret admirer. She constantly leaves gifts near her house. Donna wanted to know who this mysterious person is, so she decided to set up an ambush. And then one day, when the reader brings another gift, Donna comes out of nowhere and catches the reader. The reader in turn was very scared, she thought that Donna killed her, but instead Donna invited her for tea, to which the reader agreed. They chatted, talked about their interests and so on. Donna meanwhile began to have feelings for the reader. And one day, during a conversation with the reader, Donna began to ask questions about love. The reader was surprised by the questions, but still answered them. Suddenly there is a moment of silence. The two girls looked into each other's eyes and at that moment they kissed.

I'm not forcing you. Have a nice day

Yessss!!!! Thank you for your kindness and your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the laguage mistakes!!!! :)))))

Get to know me?

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

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

Word count: 8,050

Summary: A secret admirer? Nonsense...

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

“Alcina is right, you need a maid,” Angie commented as we walked silently back to the house.

I never liked meetings, or masses, or anything that had to do with approaching trembling crowds that feared the sight of us. My siblings never cared, I even think they enjoyed the terror they instilled in the villagers. Not me. I was just doing my duty to return to my solitude, to my quiet and secluded life.

“Sciocchezze,” I murmured, shaking my head.

“It's not nonsense, Donna, I agree with her,” the doll said, moving nervously in my arms. “That way I would have someone to scare.”

“That's all you want, isn't it? Someone to play with,” I said, annoyed by her insistence.

“Mm, well, not exactly, besides, I think you could use some company,” my doll said, making me roll my eye. “You're very boring.”

“Boring? Oh, are you bored with me, Angie?” I asked, crossing the boundaries of my territory. “Maybe if I deactivate you, you won't be bored.”

“Hey!” Angie mocked, shaking her head, making me smile. “But it’s hard to spend every day with the boring part of my conscience.”

“What?” I asked. “You're part of my conscience, not me of yours,” I said, walking faster.

“Yeah, whatever,” the puppet sighed.

Of course, if it weren't for Angie, I don't know what would have become of me. I have a lot to thank her for, but I hated it when she tried to get into my life.

“Do you want me to make another companion for you?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

“An inert doll with a stupid face? No, thanks,” Angie said, laughing sarcastically. “But Donna, I'm just saying that with a maid, maybe you… Hey! Look at that!” she said, shouting and suddenly pointing at the path.

“Mm?” I murmured, approaching the indicated area.

Something seemed to stand out the white snow. I approached slowly, looking around, until I could see what it was. It looked like a package, something wrapped like a gift. I have to admit that it aroused my curiosity.

Slowly, setting Angie down on the ground, I bent down to pick it up. It was a gift, no doubt, decorated with a striking red bow. I looked at it suspiciously and shook it… Caution was never enough.

I was a Lord, but that didn't mean I was appreciated by the villagers, quite the opposite.

“What is it?” Angie asked, looking at the small box. “What is it, Donna?”

“I-I don't know,” I said confused, searching for the opening and gently removing the bow. “Angie, it's not one of your jokes, is it?”

“Oh, you're accusing me again, huh?” the doll said, with her hands on her hips. “How can it be my doing? I've been with you all day.”

“Mm,” I murmured, undoing the fragile paper that wrapped it, discovering beneath it what looked like a box of chocolates. “Una sactola di cioccolatini?”

“Let's see, let's see,” Angie said, jumping on the floor while I handed her the mysterious gift. “How much chocolate, Donna.”

“Ma, ma… who could have…?” I said, scratching the back of my neck while Angie seemed to have fun looking at the box. “I-Is this a joke?”

“Who would want to come here to play a joke like this on you?” the doll asked, handing me the box again. “No one is that stupid.”

“Mm” I murmured, walking quickly with a grunt. “Cazzo…”

“Hey, hey, wait for me, Donna!” Angie yelled, following my steps as best she could.

I finally arrived at the mansion, my only refuge in that sinister village.

“Hold it,” I said to Angie, handing her the chocolates while I took off my veil and walked over to the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Angie asked, carrying the box onto the table, opening the plastic that covered it. “Look, there are all kinds of flavours.”

“Don't touch them,” I warned as I dialled the number, breathing quickly, annoyed by this pointless joke.

“Dimitrescu Castle…” my sister's tired and always seductive voice spoke from the other end.

“Alcina, it's me, Donna,” I said with a low voice, uncomfortable for using it.

“Donna? Darling, it's a pleasure to hear your voice… you should do it more often…” she said with a mocking, quiet laugh. “Did you forget something at the cathedral? Or are you calling because you've run out of wine?”

“No,” I said dryly, glancing at Angie, who was curiously exploring the sweets. “What are you up to? I found them.”

“I'm sorry, dear, but I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about,” Alcina said, still laughing softly. “What did you find?”

“The chocolates... I don't know what you were thinking,” I said, with a slightly nervous tone. “You're the only one who knows that I like them.”

“Chocolates?” she asked again, with a puzzled tone. “I don't...”

“Cut the crap, I know what your daughters did to Mr. Priscu; they sent him a box of sweets because his daughter liked them and I also know that he had to stay in bed for two weeks because he got very sick,” I said, clenching my fist tightly. “Do you think I look stupid?”

“Honestly, Donna, I don't know, I've never seen you face,” my sister said, amused. “Besides, you shouldn't make accusations like that. My daughters love you; they would never do something like that to you just for fun.”

“Oh, really?” I said impatiently, breathing heavily.

“Mm…” Alcina murmured. “Excuse me, dear… Bela, Cassandra, Daniela! Come here right now!”

“Oddio…” I protested, moving the phone away from my ear.

“My daughters… Did you play a prank on Aunt Donna!?” my sister shrieked. “No, mother…” the trio of vampires could be heard saying. “If you're lying to me, I… We promise you, mother, we haven't done anything…”

“Hey, Donna, look at this,” Angie said, tugging at my dress to get my attention. “It was stuck to the side of the box,” she said, showing me a perfectly folded piece of paper.

“Mm?” I murmured, extending my hand to pick it up and looking at it curiously.

“Well, you've seen that my daughters had nothing to do with it... So... someone sent you chocolates? That's news...” said Alcina, distracting me.

“Yes, I...” I stammered, blinking confused. “I...”

“Did I hear that they came with a note? Why don't you read it?” Alcina asked, amused. “What's wrong, mother?...Someone sent chocolates to your aunt... Oh, oh, who?”

“Ugh...” I sighed, hanging up the phone and calming my nerves. “Basta...”

“Read it, Donna,” Angie said, climbing onto the table and looking at the paper impatiently. “Come on, come on, come on.”

“V-Va bene,” I said somewhat nervously, unfolding the paper with trembling hands.

I hope you like my gift as much as I like looking at you

That's what the note said, in an elegant, mysterious handwriting. I read it several times, turning the note over looking for some clue of its origin, but to no avail.

“What does this mean?” I asked myself, running a hand over my forehead. “A-Angie, what…?”

“Oh, how interesting,” the doll said, taking the piece of paper and comically making the same gestures as me. “Who is it from?”

“How would I know?” I said, shaking my head and snatching the note from her. “I'm sure it's a joke.”

“Maybe it’s not,” the doll hummed. “Maybe someone likes you.”

“You've said a lot of stupid things over the years, but that was the biggest one,” I said, sighing and shaking my head. “They're probably poisoned.”

“Why would someone send you a note like that with poisoned chocolates? So I'm the one who says stupid things,” Angie said, getting down from the table with a mocking gesture. “I'm telling you that someone likes you.”

“That's impossible,” I said in a whisper, looking away from the sweets. “Well, we better forget about this matter and…”

“Forget about it? It's the most interesting thing that's happened to you in years,” the doll said, climbing onto my lap and shaking me by the shoulders. “And you're just going to leave it like that?”

“That's just what I'm going to do,” I said, closing the box and crumpling the paper in my hands, letting it fall to the floor.

I sighed again, looking at the crumpled note and, rolling my eye again, bent down to pick it up with an annoyed grunt.

“W-Well, I guess I could keep this,” I said, smoothing out the paper, looking closely at each of the letters. “If I find out who it was…”

“Oh, what are you going to do?” Angie said, looking at me intensely

“He'll pay dearly for it,” I said, crossing my arms. “If what he intended was to make me nervous…”

“He succeeded, huh?” Angie finished, mockingly tilting her head.

“No, shut up,” I said in a murmur, picking up the box and putting it on top of a shelf.

“What if it's not a joke?” Angie said, making me sigh. “What if some boy likes you?”

“Angie, forget about it,” I said with a brusque gesture. “B-Besides, you know that I'm not… interested in boys.”

“It might be a girl's,” the doll commented, sitting on the table, swinging her legs in a childish way. “If it were… would you change your mind?”

“My mind?”  I asked with an unpleasant gesture. “No, she will pay dearly for it. Nobody laughs at me.”

“At this rate you will never get a girlfriend,” Angie said, with a dark tone.

“I don't need a girlfriend, I don't want a girlfriend, I'm not interested, is that clear?” I said nervously, but completely sincere. “For your own sake keep your mouth shut, or there will be consequences.”

“You're so weird, Donna,” Angie sighed, getting down from the table with an offensive gesture. “Boring!”

“Angie…” I growled furiously. “Stop… getting into my life,” I said with a sad look. “This has never happened.”

“Oh, my Donna, if I don't care about you… who will?” the puppet said, walking away from me. “Maybe your secret admirer will…”

“Taci!” I screamed angrily, clenching my fists on either side of my hips. “I don’t need anyone to worry about me… a-and anyone to send me chocolates… or whatever…” I stammered unintentionally, glancing at the box. “This is unbelievable… Come on, Angie, I have to work on my dolls…”

I tried to forget about the whole chocolate thing, but it was practically impossible.

My life was always a sad passage of misfortunes, tears and tragedies. Ever since I was a little girl, I refused to waste time talking to the people around me, I felt like no one could understand me, that all they did was look at my wounded eye, not at me.

I thought that maybe, just maybe, the fact that Mother Miranda had pity on me, accepting me as her daughter, offering me the gift of the Gods, would change something, but I was wrong.

Nothing changed apart from my already deformed face. Everything that was human in me disappeared, leaving behind a horrible scar. Being ashamed of my appearance was only one of the effects of that change, but not the only one. Luckily, or because I really was as alone and sick as my family liked to say, I was able to do something to remedy that dark void that had always been my life.

Thanks to Miranda and the Gods, I was able to turn my best friend, the only one who hadn’t abandoned me, my Angie doll, into something resembling a companion. I couldn't say how far her independence went, what exactly her mentality was like, if she had one, and if I did...

She was the complete opposite of me, and she was me at the same time. If I think about it carefully, I realize that, indeed, nothing changed after I stopped being the Beneviento girl to Lady Beneviento. I was always alone, I will always be alone.

I hardly thought about what my life would be like if I lost my fear, if I abandoned my black dress and veil and tried to be a little more like my siblings, a little more… less me. It was useless. A horrible monster, the dark lady of the dolls… That was a good summary of what the villagers thought of me.

Fear wasn’t respect, I didn't want respect, nor fear, I didn't want appreciation, nor love. I didn't want anything, I didn't know what love was, I didn't want to know. I was fine alone, with my dolls, with Angie… anything that distorted that peaceful solitude was nothing but a nuisance to me.

I never needed anyone. I never loved anyone, not even myself. Some people might think it was a sad life, but it wasn't exactly like that. What awaited me was an eternity of loneliness and darkness, and in time, I learned to accept it.

That incident with the chocolates didn't change my routine, but Angie's words stuck in my head.

“Mm…” I hummed quietly, with my mind focused on my little porcelain friends. They were always silent, they didn't bother me, they didn't talk, they didn't judge me… “That's it. You're a beautiful doll, aren't you? Mm, what eyes do you want me to give you?”

“I know I'm beautiful, you don't have to tell me,” Angie interrupted, laughing amused, to which I frowned, shaking my head.

“You should learn to enjoy silence, Angie,”  I whispered, putting the doll on the table and studying its inert expression.

“And you should learn to relate to human beings,” the puppet mocked, laughing shyly, to get me off. “I like you more than chocolates…” she sighed, moving her hands exaggeratedly. “Hahahaha, how nice.”

“I told you I didn't want to talk about it again!” I squealed nervously at the doll's insistence. “Shut up or get out!”

“Oh, what a mood…” Angie protested, without moving from her spot. “You should eat one of the chocolates and…” she said, but, surely seeing my expression, she decided to stop making fun of me, for a moment. “Okay, I'll be good.”

“That's better,” I whispered, shaking my head and pointing at some paint cans. “Verde,” I murmured to the doll, who obeyed instantly.

“Green… green… I don't see it,” Angie said, with a calmer voice, but equally irritating.

“It has to be there, look better,” I said in a low voice, cleaning the imperfections of the porcelain.

“There's no green, Donna, paint them another color, I have a blue here that would be…” the puppet commented.

“No,” I said sternly. “I said verde.”

“And I told you there's no green, silly Donna,” Angie said, crossing her arms. “Why green?”

“Because I said so…” I hissed, more upset than usual.

I didn't like leaving the estate. Meetings with my family made me too nervous and… well, there was also the issue of chocolates. It was always difficult for me to control my madness, the trembling of my hands, the voices in my head. But that day was especially difficult, and Angie didn't help.

“Well, there isn't any,” the doll said.

“Look for it well, damn it!” I screamed furiously, hitting the table hard. “They have to be green, do you hear me? Verde!”

“Hey, what's wrong with you?” Angie said, getting down from the table, surely scared by my attitude.

“Forgive me, Angie…” I finally said, managing to calm down, to remedy the voices of my madness. “It's not a good day.”

“I see…” the doll said, walking towards me with a cautious attitude. “Why don't we go see the fat man for some paint? Maybe you could use some fresh air.”

“Angie… going back to the village is the last thing I need right now,” I said, running a hand over my forehead.

“What do you need?” she asked, looking at me intensely, resting a wooden hand on my back. “You know I would do anything for you, my Donna.”

“I-I know,” I said with a sad smile, letting the doll hug me. “Y-You know what? Maybe you're right and a… a walk will clear my mind.”

“Yes, yes! Let's go see the fat man,” she said, laughing amused and rubbing her hands.

I couldn't say why I accepted the offer so easily. My mind was somewhat dazed and confused. The box of chocolates was still in my head, as was that absurd note. Luckily, Angie listened to my pleas and put the subject aside. Surely she knew I was thinking about it.

The village was empty as always. Sometimes I imagined how it was a few minutes ago, if there were people on the streets, quiet people, with a quiet life, who ran away when they saw me appear.

It was hard for me to imagine a lonely village. Yes, surely everyone hid when they saw me…

“Hello, hello… Duke, Duke?” Angie called at the door of the warehouse where that greedy fat man used to be most of the time. “Hellooooooo. Hey, maybe he's not here and…”

The door opened slowly, but it wasn't a greedy fat man who appeared behind it, but a young woman... well, I had to admit that the first adjective that came to mind was simple and even vulgar: beautiful.

She seemed like a shy girl, or so her overly formal smile told me, one that slowly mutated into a look of surprise when she recognized me.

“La-Lady Beneviento,” the girl murmured, backing away, scared, as expected. “Oh, I...”

“W-Who are you?” Angie asked, imitating the girl's voice while laughing.

“I, I'm...Oh, how did you know that...? I mean, I didn't know that... that you... that I...” she said, visibly nervous, something that made me frown behind my veil and tilt my head curiously. “I mean, well, I'm sure you're asking me for an explanation, but...”

“What are you talking about, you silly, silly?” Angie asked, with part of my voice in her words. “Where is the fat man?”

“The Duke? Oh, of course… er… Are you looking for the Duke?” the villager asked, lowering her gaze.

“Of course, stupid, why else would we come here?” Angie said, pointing at her awkwardly. “To see you?”

“Well, maybe,” she murmured, clearing her throat and looking at me briefly, with that terrified spark that the villagers' eyes kept when they saw me. “But…”

“(Y/N)” a petulant voice appeared in the place. “Please don't keep Lady Beneviento waiting,” the Duke said from inside the building.

“Y-Yes, of course,” she said, bowing quickly and inviting us in.

I walked slowly, keeping my eye on hers. She was certainly a beautiful girl, very beautiful. I followed her with my gaze as she ran to the back of the store. She probably didn't realize I could see her but… she glanced at me quickly before pretending to search for something on a table.

“Do me a favor, continue with the Ionescu's order while I attend to this distinguished client…” the fat man said, pointing at some objects on that table, making the girl nod obediently. “Anyway…”

“Since when do you work with fools?” Angie asked, pointing at the young woman, who seemed to struggle not to look back at me.

“This job is complicated, Miss Angie, I needed some help,” the Duke said, with his perfectly rehearsed business pose. “Miss (Y/N) needed the job and… well… you know how generous I am.”

“Is this a joke?” Angie mocked, as I stared at the young woman, who seemed to be wrapping some boxes.

I thought that leaving my house might clear my thoughts, but it did the opposite. Those red bows… they looked too familiar. It looked like the same kind of bow that was on the box of chocolates. I stared at her, without her noticing, and after a few seconds, I shook my head.

I was starting to go crazy, seeing coincidences where there were none. My imagination, my madness, was always about that, never about reality. I had to relax.

“Donna!” Angie shrieked, snapping me out of my absurd thoughts. “Are you here? Should I tell the fat man what we want?”

“Please,” the merchant said, briefly looking where my eye was pointing. “Are you interested in anything you see, my lady?”

“Green, green paint, we want green paint,” Angie said, dominated by my control, in a stern, dark voice.  

“Oh, of course… (Y/N), please…” the merchant said, gesturing with his hand.

“H-Here it is,” the girl said, with the jar already in her hands, slowly approaching me. “This color… my… my lady?”

I extended my free hand towards her and when it made contact with the paint, hers immediately disappeared, with a nervous gasp. Slowly, checking that it was the right color, I nodded.

“Oh, you're fast, silly,” Angie said, with an amused voice.

“If she weren't, she wouldn't be working for me,” the Duke commented, looking satisfied at his assistant. “I've been lucky.”

“Yes, yes, yes, come on, tell us how much,” the doll said, gesturing with her hand to quickly end the conversation. “And I hope you don't try to rip us off.”

“I would never dare, my lady,” the man said, knowing our dynamic, knowing that, although Angie was talking, it was I who was actually doing it. That fat bastard knew too much. “It’ll be… one hundred lei.”

“Here,” Angie said, as I handed him a bag of coins, briefly turning my gaze to the girl, who stood back, nervous.

“It’s a pleasure, as always,” he said, losing interest in us to check the money.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, whatever you say,” Angie said, as I started to walk out of the store. “Hey, silly! Bye!”

“B-Bye…”  (Y/N) sighed, her voice weak.

On the one hand, I would have liked to know more about that secret admirer, that mysterious person who left me that gift. On the other hand, I felt relieved with the passage of time, with that overwhelming normality that returned to my life.

I stopped giving it importance. I learned to forget about that exit from routine to return to my beloved dolls, to my solitary life, to the refuge of the mansion walls. I couldn't help but think about that hidden person, that idiot who thought it was a good idea to play with me.

Sometimes, at night, I played at imagining who it was, if it was a disgusting villager, or maybe a beautiful woman. I would like to say that I didn't think about her too, about that girl who worked for the Duke, but I would lie.

A stupid villager, a beautiful woman... My thoughts began to wander between those two topics. (Y/N), and the person who said he or she liked me. Definitely, although it was hard for me to admit it, my life had changed, but I didn't know exactly how.

“Let's see if you can guess what I'm looking at…” Angie hummed as we strolled through the grounds.

Mysteriously, leaving the mansion was becoming easier and easier for me, but of course, it had nothing to do with that admirer, nothing, really…

“Mm, a tree,” I said, looking around, enjoying this walk through my lonely lands.

“Oh, no, no… you're wrong, silly Donna, what I see is… a bouquet of flowers?” Angie said, standing still in the snow, catching my attention.

“Cosa? Flowers?” I asked with tender curiosity, adoring that childish side of the doll. “Angie…”

“Yes, yes, yes… look, Donna, there,” the doll said, jumping in the snow and pointing to the end of the bridge that separated me from the villagers.

Sure enough, there was something.

I approached nervously, at the prominent sight of a perfect red bow surrounding some colorful flowers. Carefully, I bent down to pick it up.

“But… this?” I asked myself, looking at the bouquet with curiosity. “What is this?”

“I already told you, a bouquet of flowers,” Angie said, approaching me. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, is it from your secret admirer?”

“Are you still thinking that nonsense?” I asked annoyed, touching the delicate petals of those flowers. “I already told you that…”

“You can say whatever you want, I know what you think. You haven’t stopped leaving the mansion every day, surely to see if you could find something…” the puppet said, pointing at me accusingly.

“I-it's not true,” I said in a more childish tone than I would have liked, kicking the snowy ground and tightly gripping the bouquet.

“Say what you want,” Angie said, climbing up my clothes to look at the bouquet more closely. “Is there a note?”

“Um, I don't know,” I said murmuring, enthralled by the beauty of those flowers. “Wait, here...”

With a delicate gesture, I took a small envelope that was stuck to the bouquet, opening it with trembling hands.

“What does it say?” Angie asked, fidgeting impatiently in my arms.

I hope you liked the chocolates. I was looking at these flowers, and they seemed appropriate for a woman as beautiful as you.

“This doesn't make sense...” I murmured, reading the note over and over again. “That I'm beautiful? I was sure it was a joke...”

“Why?” Angie asked, grabbing the note roughly, snatching it from my hands.

“No one has seen my face, Angie, at least not someone who isn’t… too old,” I explained, tightly gripping the bouquet and looking around, hoping to find some trace of that unpleasant joker.

“What does that have to do with them thinking you’re beautiful? You are,” the doll said, clinging to me, probably because of my quick pace. “Hey, don’t run so fast!”

“T-this doesn’t make any sense,” I said nervously, slamming the door shut and throwing the flowers onto the hall table. “Don’t you understand, Angie? It’s a joke, a bad joke.”

“Well… you look nervous,” the doll mocked, climbing onto the table, where I kept the previous note. “Look, look, the handwriting matches, it’s from the same person.”

“That doesn't clear anything up for me,” I sighed, running a hand over my forehead, comparing the two notes. “There's no clue, and do you know why? Because it's a…” I couldn't finish the sentence, as a wooden hand covered my mouth.

“You and I both know it's not a joke… stop pretending you don't care,” Angie, with a tone that was too understanding for her. “You're nervous, irascible and erratic, more than usual,”

“Of course I am,” I said, sitting down in the rocking chair and rubbing my eye. “Angie, there's someone out there who's laughing at me.”

“Or there's someone out there who finds you interesting…” the doll corrected. “Why do you have to be so pessimistic?”

“I have no reason not to be,” I sighed, looking at the two pieces of paper. “Mm, the handwriting is elegant and rounded. It doesn't look like… a boy's, does it?” I said to myself.

“Would you like it to be a pretty girl?” Angie said, tilting her head in a playful way, making me laugh.

“W-Well, if it's true that there's someone who… who admires me… I'd like it to be,” I said with a smile, looking at the bouquet of flowers. “Look, they're beautiful, aren't they? They smell wonderful.”

“Oh, Donna… You're blushing,” the doll said, pointing at my face, which I covered with my hands.

“What? I, I don't believe in… those things…” I said, lowering my head, leaving the flowers on the table. “They're just fairy tales.”

“Oh, wouldn't you like to live one?” the doll asked, with a confident tone. “It seems that that mysterious person would like it.”

“Don't talk nonsense…”  I sighed, shaking my head. “For me, those stories don't exist, Angie.”

“Well, I'd say... I see you smiling,” Angie whispered in my ear, making me blush again. “What are you going to do?”

“What? Oh, I... n-nothing,” I said frowning and waking up from some kind of impossible fantasy that my sick head was starting to create. “I-I guess nothing.”

“Nothing? Please, Donna,” the doll said, grabbing me by the shoulders. “You have to do something.”

“What? I have no way of knowing who... oh, no, no, no look, I confess that it intrigues me and... I feel, I feel things... but, what if it's not how I expected? What if it really is a joke?” I said somewhat nervously, with a cold sweat running down my neck. “It's better to leave it be.”

“Mm, come on, I have an idea,” Angie said, getting off my lap and motioning for me to come closer.

The puppet climbed up the phone table, starting to dial an unknown number. My hands started to shake.

“Hey, che cavolo sati facendo?” I asked, grabbing the phone in my hand.

“I’m just trying to help. I’d like to know what to do, but… I’m just a doll, after all,” Angie said, in a defensive pose. “It’s better to ask the professionals for advice.”

“Professionals? What…?” I muttered, blinking in confusion.

“Dimitrescu Castle…” a voice came from the other end, a tired, deep voice, my sister Alcina’s.

“Oh, um…” I said nervously, trying to scold Angie by knocking her off the table. “Alcina?”

“Donna?” she asked. “Dear, it’s always a pleasure to hear that beautiful voice… Or is Angie playing with the phone again?”

“Yes, no, um…” I said nervously, sighing exhausted, with my cheeks… red with embarrassment. “Yes, I think I need to talk to you.”

“Mm, I'm listening, dear, it's not usual for you to tell me something like that,” my sister said, amused. “What is it this time? Have you thought better about the maid?”

“No,” I said with a dry voice, lowering the volume little by little. “Um… I suppose I can tell you… Let's keep it between us.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” three shrill voices made me move away and almost hang up the phone. “Girls!” Alcina shrieked. “No spying!… okay, mother…” a dull sound indicated that the sisters had stopped listening. “Speak, dear, we're alone…”

I was nervous, but little by little, I managed to tell my sister the situation. Alcina listened attentively to my story, but I don't know if she was really pretending to listen to me. Nobody cared about me, not even my siblings.

“I see,” she sighed, laughing amused. “Donna, are you going to do anything?”

“That's why I'm calling you. I-I don't know what to do... I...” I murmured, looking at Angie out of the corner of my eye.

“Easy, bella...” said the lady in white, amused. “From what you've told me, I see a pattern in these gifts.”

“A pattern?”

“Mm, well, it's been just a week, right? What tells you that in seven days there won't be another little gift waiting for you?” my sister said, making me think.

“I hadn't thought about it,” I sighed, shaking my head.

“That's your perfect opportunity to clear up your doubts. Set an ambush for that little bird, I can't believe it hadn't occurred to you before,” Alcina said, in a honeyed voice.

“T-That's right, I have, I have to clear up my doubts,” I said, biting my lower lip, with my heart beating especially fast. “T-Thank you, Alcina…”

“No thanks, dear… I hope you'll keep me up to date,” she said, laughing mockingly. “That's it! Tell us everything!” the three sisters shouted into the phone. “Damn it… I told you to hang up the phone! You are…!”

I didn't let her continue talking. I simply hung up the phone nervously.

An ambush, a trap. It seemed too easy. I would have to wait seven days to find out what was behind those mysterious gifts.

My heart was always fragile. If I didn't find what I was expecting, that daring vermin would regret it forever.

The days passed slowly, too slowly. My demons, my fantasies, my fears danced in my head… Nightmares, sweet dreams… I began to lose my mind, to take out my frustrations on Angie, to count the hours, the minutes I had left to get out of my doubts.

Finally, luckily, the day arrived.

“How much longer are we going to be here, Donna?” Angie protested, pulling at my dress as we hid behind the ruins of what was once… my territory.

“Shh, shut up,” I said in a low voice looking at the deserted bridge, hoping to see something, anything, not to feel like I had wasted my time, for those strange illusions to suddenly disappear. “Just a little longer.”

“We've been here for hours,” the doll said, in a childish tone. “I'm going to freeze.”

“You're a doll, you don't feel the cold,” I said, with my gaze fixed on the road, without losing patience.

“I don't, but you do,” said the puppet. “Brr… Oh, wait, wait, look, look Donna, there.”

The doll pointed at a shadow that began to move the bridge, crossing it slowly. The cold was intense, yes, but among the mist and the snow I began to distinguish a walking figure. It was not a disgusting villager, some disturbed person, or a group of children wanting to play a joke.

The figure took the form of a woman, a young woman. No, not a woman, it was a girl. A girl with a slender but sad body, who walked slowly along the swinging bridge.

“Non può essere…” I murmured when her face became visible.

I recognized her instantly. It could be because of my good memory, or it could also be because, along with those strange gifts, that face had been wandering in my thoughts. I was so wrapped up in that mysterious person that her memory was barely a whisper, an image that appeared when I got tired of imagining who was sending me those gifts.

(Y/N), the Duke's assistant, that beautiful and shy girl that I found hard to forget, was crossing the border of my property, carrying something in her hands, a gift, a small box adorned with a striking red bow.

“Donna... it's...” Angie whispered when the girl was already getting too close, with a cautious look.

I would have liked to behave differently, not give in to my nerves and the shock of that revelation, but I couldn't do it. Abruptly, I came out of my hiding place, just at the moment when the girl bent down to put the gift on the ground.

“Hey, you!”  Angie shouted, running in front of me, scaring (Y/N), who had no choice but to run away.

“Oh, shit…” I heard her growl, running back towards the bridge, not bothering to look back, throwing the gift to the ground.

“Hey, don't run away, rat! Come here!” Angie shrieked, being picked up by me in a hurry, walking quickly towards the young girl.

“No, no! Ah!” she screamed, tripping loudly on a root and falling to the ground with a hiss of pain. “No, no please. I can, I can explain, I…”

Her babbling wasn’t able to distract me from my slower walk, until I stood in front of her, looking down at her, not knowing what to say, or what to do. Luckily, my black veil hid my emotions, my eye wide open, a smile of relief at knowing it was her. It was always her.

“Start talking, silly girl,” Angie said, with a cocky tone. I, meanwhile, just watched the shine in her eyes, her panicked expression.

“O-Okay, but don't kill me, my lady, please, I…” the girl said, rubbing her back due to the blow, standing up awkwardly, with trembling legs.

“You're the Duke's assistant,” I said in my own voice, something that surprised even Angie. My voice was hoarse, dark, but it was my voice, after all.

“Oh, um… -Y-yes, I'm…”

“(Y/N), I remember you,” I said again, taking a step closer to her. “It was you, right?”

“Um, I… I'm sorry my lady, I-I think I shouldn't be here and…” she said nervously, looking around for a place to escape. “I won't bother you anymore, I promise, I…”

I didn't pay attention to her words, I simply bent down to the ground, picking up the small package and shaking the snow off of it.

“Oh, that, forget it, it's…” (Y/N) said, trying to snatch it from me, something I stopped with a quick movement of my hands. “No, please…”

“Isn't it for me?” I asked in a small voice, taking advantage of the situation, of the paralysis that her body was feeling at that moment.

“Y-Yes, it's for you,” she said, lowering her head, on the verge of tears. “Please, Lady Beneviento, I… I'll, I'll leave.”

“Angie, don't let her go,” I murmured to the doll, who walked in front of me, intimidating the nervous and scared (Y/N).

“Of course, Donna,” the puppet said, getting too close to her.

“Mm,” I murmured, slowly removing the wrapping and opening the small box, which contained something shiny, similar to a bracelet. “Cos' è questo?”

“What? I, I…” she said, walking away slowly, something she couldn't do for a long time, since Angie was watching her back. “I-It's a… bracelet… I, I made it and…”

“Mm, a bracelet,” I repeated indifferently, looking inside the box, where there was, as always, one of those folded papers.

“No, no, no, no! Please!” the young woman screamed, moving towards me, desperately trying to snatch the note from me, something she didn't manage. “Please…”

“Stay still,” I said abruptly, sounding like an order that she simply couldn't disobey.

Not even the most beautiful flower, nor the brightest jewel, could compare to you

“Mm,” I murmured, looking over the note at the trembling young woman, blushing like blood, looking everywhere but at me. “Come.”

“W-W-What?” she asked, really scared, when I started walking towards the mansion.

“Are you deaf, silly? Come on, walk, walk,” Angie said, laughing sinisterly and pushing (Y/N)'s legs. Making a superhuman effort, she started walking.

I didn't trust her, I spent the whole way looking back, checking that she was following me. I didn't think she was capable of doing it, but she did.

“Siedeti,” I whispered to her at home, indicating a small corner with a sofa.

“What?” she asked, looking at the floor, still shaking.

“Cazzo…” I cursed, grabbing her arm roughly and pushing her onto the sofa. “I said, sit down,” I growled furiously, without knowing why.

“O-Okay, I'm sorry,” she said, barely in a voice.

“Stay there,” I ordered her again, leaving the bracelet and the note on a table. “Angie.”

“Yes, I'm watching her…” the doll said, climbing onto the sofa and rubbing her hands.

I went down to the kitchen, wiping the sweat from my forehead. I finally had before me the two things that had been wandering through my head: that beautiful girl, and my secret admirer. I could never imagine that shy girl could have anything to do with all of this, to me she was just that, a pretty girl who… well, I wouldn't have minded her being my maid.

Nervous, almost breathless, I prepared some tea, mentally preparing myself to have some kind of conversation with her, to know how to clear up all my doubts, how to answer the questions that had been tormenting me all that time. I couldn't call Alcina, I had acted too quickly, Angie wouldn't help me, I was alone.

“Tea,” I said abruptly, putting the tray down on the coffee table in front of (Y/N), startling her with the noise, causing her to shrink on the couch.

“T-T-Tea?” she stammered, as if I had said something stupid.

“T-T-Tea?” I mocked unpleasantly. My nerves and my sick mind were playing tricks on me. “Chiudi il becco, I'm making the questions”.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said, lowering her head.

I sat down in front of (Y/N) and stared at her. Naturally, she didn't move an inch, she was frozen in fear.

“Um, Donna,” Angie whispered to me, getting my attention. “Easy…”

“Mm, (Y/N),” I said, ignoring the doll's warnings at my scary and dark attitude. “Do you know who I am?”

“Donna Beneviento,” the girl murmured, without looking at my face, at that black veil that hid my ugliness.

“Bingo,” Angie said, climbing back onto the sofa to intimidate the young woman. I thought she would faint at any moment.

“Do you know what happens to stupid people who dare to bother me?” I asked again, with a darker voice. “Don't you drink tea?” I asked in a different tone, almost unintentionally.

“I'm a bit nervous, my lady,” she said, clenching her clothes with her fists. “Yes, I know what happens when…”

“You've done it several times,” I said, pointing with my hand at the flowers and the box of chocolates.

“Yes,” she admitted, closing her eyes, clasping her hands in a pathetic pose. “I beg you, my lady, have mercy on me, I just wanted…”

“What did you want?” I asked impatiently, crossing my arms. “To laugh at me? Was it a bet or something?”

“What? No, of course not,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head, as if that insinuation had really offended her. “I did it voluntarily.”

I looked at Angie, who shrugged. I really needed Alcina's help at that moment…

“Why?” I asked nervously, with a demanding tone. “Don't try to lie to me, you silly girl, I'll know.”

Her face told me she was willing to tell the truth. I couldn't help but smile. Of course, I wasn't able to tell if she was lying.

“I… I just want to leave, please, I promise not to come back and…” she said, getting up hastily from the sofa, something that I prevented again with a brusque gesture, lowering her body by her shoulders.

“Sit down and drink your tea.”

“O-Okay,” she said, fearfully taking the cup.

“Don't make me lose my patience,” I threatened in vain. Her beauty couldn't be hurt. I couldn't hurt something so beautiful, even if I wanted to. “Speak.”

“O-One day…” the girl began, trembling even more, looking for a fixed point to look at that wasn't my non-existent gaze. “One day, shortly after the Duke hired me, you appeared in the warehouse, I think, I think you wanted a grey fabric with…”

“With ruffles and a rough feel,” I finished for her, making her nod nervously. “Do you remember… How curious, I don't remember you.”

“W-Well, I guess you don’t. I didn't want to show myself, and even less in front of someone like, like you…” she explained with a voice broken by fear, but terribly sincere. “I had a bad idea about you, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't afraid but…”

“But,” I said with that same dark tone, one that I couldn't avoid, although I would have liked to.

“But when I saw you… I didn't see a horrible monster, I didn't see that legend that the elders talk about at night… I only saw a woman… a young woman dressed in mourning and I began to wonder… why such terrible things were said about you,” she said with a low voice, losing her fear, apparently.

“Is that why you sent me those gifts? Nothing you say makes sense, (Y/N),” I said confused, nervous, losing my patience little by little. “Those things you said…”

“I was telling the truth,” (Y/N) said abruptly, with an intense look that pierced my chest. “I wanted to make you feel good and… well, working for the Duke gave me a certain idea of ​​the things you might like.”

“I'll only ask you once, (Y/N),” I said, slowly getting up, intimidating her. “What do you want from me?”

“To get to know you”

A verb, some simple words served to relax my attitude. Nobody, nobody had ever wanted to get to know me, to have anything to do with me and… she… that beautiful girl… gave me gifts, told me those things because… just because she wanted to get to know me?

I was nervous, confused, I didn't understand what her intentions were, why, the reason for everything she had done… for me. I relaxed, I calmed down. I let that beautiful girl ask me things about me, interests… tastes, hobbies…

It had been too long since I had a conversation like that, I don't think I ever had one. (Y/N) was a smart, funny girl, shy, but willing to get what she wanted, to exchange words with me, even if I wasn't sure.

After that tea came many others, conversations that were less and less awkward in which the girl dedicated herself to telling me about her past, what she expected from the future. Any other thought that wasn't about her had no place in my mind. I couldn't stop seeing her face in my dreams, hearing her voice.

My heart raced with her presence, it was sad when she left. Angie was clear about what was happening to me, but I wasn't.

“I have to go," (Y/N) said with a smile, after an entire afternoon of insipid, empty chatter, or at least that's how I saw it. “Thank you very much for the tea, and for... well, for spending time with me.”

 “Wait,” I said, failing in my attempt to hide my nervousness about these new feelings that were beginning to torment me. “I have a question for you, (Y/N).”

“S-Sure, Donna, ask whatever you want,” she said, laughing nervously, fighting off Angie's teasing.

“Do you believe in love?” I asked, perhaps abruptly, making her step back and drop her jaw.

“Oh, um… of course I do,” she said, blushing, like every time she spent time with me. I would die for that smile. “Love is the most beautiful thing in this world.”

“That's a lie. The most beautiful thing in the world is you,” I said without thinking, with my voice coming out of my mouth alone, with the words abandoning my will.

“Oh, Donna, that's… wow… that's…” she said even more nervously, getting a little closer to me.

“I have a problem, (Y/N),” I said, ready to be honest. “I have feelings for you, but I don't know how to interpret them, I was hoping you could help me.”

“Really? Do you have feelings for me?” she asked, getting even closer, playing with her hands. “That's…”

“What is it?” I asked, taking a step towards her. “My heart races when I see you, my hands sweat, they shake when you're near.”

“T-That's a pretty explicit description… but, but it's very similar to what I feel for you, Donna,” she said in a low voice. “ Even since before… I met you.”

“Nonsense,” I said somewhat sadly, shaking my head. “I have the right to feel those things because I see your beauty every day. You don't.”

“Love goes far beyond beauty, Donna,” she said whispering, breathing heavily. “I can love you, even if I can't see your face.”

“Then I'll change your mind,” I said with a broken voice, gently removing the veil from my face, making the only chance to discover what love was vanish along with the black cloth.

“Oh, Donna,” the girl said, whispering again, almost without a voice, looking at every corner of my horrible face. “I wasn't wrong, you're beautiful.”

“Does love make you a liar?” I said, frustrated by my ugliness, by a beauty I would never have.

“Love is the only thing I feel when I’m with you,” she murmured, taking a last step closer, making our bodies closer than ever.

Silence fell upon us abruptly. There were no words, only glances, only her bright eyes, fixed on mine. My hand moved on its own, ready to experience for itself the softness of her skin, caressing her cheek, her real beauty…

She did the same, staring at me intensely, causing my whole body to tense up and making me unable to move. Her head tilted as she ran her hands over my face, bringing it closer and closer, until it happened.

Her soft lips rested on mine, caressing my monstrous face with a warm kiss, one I couldn't respond to until I realized that this was love, the feeling that drove my heart out of control when she was near, all the sensations that kiss, that first kiss, caused in a sad and gloomy soul like mine.

[ghetto-omega]

‎❀‎✿❀Pup headcanons❀✿❀

One thing about me is if I can make it animalistic, I will. With that being said...

This post was supposed to take me an hour max. Tell me why I started working on this at like 9pm and it is currently 130am and I'm still not done yet 😐👎🏾

this took too long

Here's your warning 🌸well formatted long post incoming 🌸

‎‧₊˚✿General✿˚₊‧

It's considered inhumane to separate a pup from their family before they can scent other people as well as be scented

Pups need a lot more protein than adults do

Normally a litter contains 2-3 pups, but having more or less isn't uncommon, I will say having more than 5 is practically unheard of

As pups grow older they lose a lot of the body language that they used as kids, they don't really need a lot of it as they progress into adulthood

That's not to say people don't keep a few of their childhood quirks though

I think pups in omegaverse tend to do a lot of developmental things earlier than actual children lol things like crawling, walking, etc

For a lot of their childhood they don't have their own scent they just smell like their parents, possibly their entire pack depending on the dynamics, so scenting them doesn't really... Stick

Since omegaverse relies so heavily on non verbal cues, body language, and noises that aren't words, it's important that pups are heavily (but gradually) socialized as early as 10 months

‎‧₊˚✿Newborns✿˚₊‧

Pups aren't born blind but they are born with anosmia (can't smell, poor thang) but overtime the ability gets stronger, and jumpstarts when they get their first heat/rut

Instinctually have body language and noises signalling they don't like something or are unhappy

Newborns sometimes learn to growl before even leaving the hospital

Smell like their parents, don't have a scent of their own

The bigger the litter the smaller the babies tend to be

‎‧₊˚✿Babies✿˚₊‧

Babies sometimes learn to bare their teeth before they smile, which is equally as cute tbh

𑁍 4-6 months

Begin to smell like their pack as well as their parents, but still don't actually have a scent of their own

They bite their parents/packs stuff frequently. Sometimes that means putting someone's favorite book in their mouths or trying their very best to take a big bite out of someone's arm

Normally start crawling by about 5-6months and walking isn't far behind

This is also about the time they start to have very small bits of solid foods, especially things containing soy, or just yogurt is a good choice

𑁍 7-9 months

Will start to get territorial. Will cry if other people are in the house for too long, or throw tantrums if that person touches their parents or a toy, might even start hiding toys from their pack if it's perceived as theirs

Should be somewhat competent at walking by the time 9 months hits, may also start biting and tearing at furniture at this time

This is also a great time to introduce bite sized soft meats

Socializing pups has started to become crucial to development here, meeting people outside of their pack is now becoming important

𑁍 10-12 months

Teething is a pretty bad experience for pups. Sharp teeth piercing gums hurts a lot. Don't be surprised if they already have a couple teeth by this time

Teething may also set back pups from speaking for a while, most people aren't much inclined to talk (or learn how to talk) when their mouth hurts

By this time they probably have a favorite scent or smell. Don't be surprised if it's a food or a perfume that someone in their pack wears. They still can't really smell the scents of the people around them, but scents and pheromones have a lot of sway a pups development

Are yipping and yowling by 12 months, as well as engaging in healthy rough and tumble

Separation anxiety is also to be expected

‎‧₊˚✿Toddlers✿˚₊‧

𑁍 1-3 years

Toddlers sometimes talk later than they should and speak almost exclusively through body language and a few open mouthed sounds so their teeth don't click together

They're probably gonna have over exaggerated body language. Instead of just tilting their head to the side to show curiosity they might practically bend at the waist or throw themselves to the ground entirely

Their nails harden and begin becoming claws, will soon begin to scratch on harder things to experiment with a different type of cause and effect, as well sensory experiences

Beginning playdates with pups around the same age is recommended, as well as giving them a security object of their choice that's heavily scented by their pack

By 3 is using those new claws to dig into whatever possible and climb as high as they can. Pup proofing is a must.

May crouch onto all fours when they run, and may have trouble losing momentum when they go too fast resulting in a lot of falls

Teething should be basically done by now and speaking should be back on track or jumpstarted in a couple months

Territorialness should be calming down. They should stop outwardly objecting to foreign people and objects being in their space

𑁍 4-5 years

Should begin to use more vocal communication beside their spoken and body language (like yipping, yowling, chuffing, and in some instances barking or howling)

Will also repeat sounds or actions that typically belong to omegas, betas, alphas, or all three despite not having matured yet

They should also start copying the motions to scent people, and it is advised to correct them when they do the motions in inappropriate situations

‎‧₊˚✿Children✿˚₊‧

𑁍 6-8 years

So much yipping. When they play. When they're sad. When they're bored. When they're hurt. Especially if they're particularly vocal.

Nose is finally sensitive enough to pick up on natural scents and pheromones. Might start telling you that someone stinks in inappropriate settings

Is just barely beginning to develop their own scent by 7, and is able to scent and be scented by 8

It's very common for pups to play too rough. Playdates ending with a little blood isn't anything to worry about unless it's actually excessive

Pups lick everything and anything possible, especially if it has an odd smell, they should basically be grown out of it by about middle school age tho

‎‧₊˚✿Preteen✿˚₊‧

𑁍 9-12 years

Should start to present somewhere in this time frame.

Their scent should be fully developed by 12.

Should understand scenting and begin to understand the difference between their primary and secondary gender

Physical insecurities are beginning to pop up

Pheromones become more active and passive discussions about scent blockers should begin soon

They'll probably be pretty active, and easily become stir crazy

They should start using words more than vocalisation and purposeful body language

Pups who develop early may get their heats/ruts at this time

Some may begin to start branching away from the pack and subconsciously looking to start another one

‎‧₊˚✿Teenager✿˚₊‧

𑁍 13-18 years

First heat/ruts tend to occur around 13-15 years old

Omegas tend to mature first

Litter mates tend to mature one after the other, sometimes with only days between each other

By this point scent glands and sense of smell should be fully developed

Minor vocalisation will progress into adulthood and any purposefully telegraphed body language should become second nature to them

Many pups display highly aggressive behavior or displeased scents for many of their teen years. Without proper stress relief moodiness and build up in their scent glands is common

this was not meant to be this long but thanks for reading y'all :3 if you see spelling/grammar mistakes uhm.... no you didn't </3