#Both worth exploring >:D

[meowuff]

I like how Guppys sash looks like a nipped fish tail. I would imagine older Seakids doing that when their light is low but can't find any light source other than themselves or for establishing dominence like some fish in real life.

Nova: "Oooooh! Pretty! Like mermaid tail!"

Guppy: "Ah yes~ that one was a good fight. Tough opponent but not tough enough ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

[withluvkay]

Your Life’s Not Boring—You’re Just on Your Phone Too Much

If you’ve been feeling glued to your phone—especially apps like TikTok and Instagram—you’re not alone. So many of us are stuck in this loop, and it can seriously mess with our energy, motivation, and overall health.

One thing I’ve struggled most with lately is comparison. Feeling like what I do just isn’t... enough. If you’ve felt that too, this post is for us both. A little reminder that:

✨ You are enough, just as you are. ✨ You’ve survived every hard day, and your inner child and I are so proud of you. Don't ever forget how far you've come as a person! If all you did was make your bed and hydrate today, that's a win worth celebrating. You're doing just fine, and you'll do all that you wish to on your own divine timing.

And yes, your life isn’t boring. You might just be too distracted to see how beautiful it really is. So instead of escaping it, let’s try to romanticize it!

10 Ways to Romanticize Your Life & Be More Present

Wake up a little earlier. It doesn’t have to be 5 AM (unless that’s your thing). Even an hour earlier can give you quiet time to get things done without distractions.

Take an "everything shower." These are pretty meditative for me in a way. I like to imagine the water washing off all my stress and stagnant energy I may have accumulated throughout the day. Like a reset button!

Make a breakfast you’d actually get out of bed early for. Pancakes? Fruit? Whatever makes your inner child happy.

Play jazz or soft instrumentals while doing everyday activities. Instant cozy vibes.

Read outside. Sitting on your porch or even by a window gives you that vitamin D and a fresh perspective.

Find a screen-less hobby you enjoy. Try crochet, painting, poetry, LEGO kits, pottery, etc. Block-building kits are my fave—they’re so fun and satisfying. Just remember to take breaks and stretch!

Re-watch something comforting or start something new. That show you keep skipping past might become your next obsession.

Connect. If you’ve been stuck in your room all day, talk to someone. Call a friend, hug your pet, or chat with family. A quick convo with my mom always boosts my mood!

Learn something new! When was the last time you went out of your way to explore something you didn’t already know? (and nope, school doesn’t count.) Take a moment to find a subject you’ve never looked into or dive deeper into one you already know a little about. Pick up on a new language, study an unfamiliar culture, or even try learning a random skill just for fun. Expanding your mind keeps life feeling fresh and exciting.

Travel (if you can). I can't stress this one enough!! Even just getting out of town for a single 24 hours can give you a whole new perspective. A change of scenery does wonders, especially when life feels repetitive. It doesn't have to be far, either. You can travel to the next city over and explore what it's like there!

Remember: Social media is NOT real life. That influencer who’s always partying in Miami with a closet full of designer bags? You’re seeing their highlight reel, not the full picture. Some even goes as far as faking luxury lifestyles for the views. Don’t compare your behind-the-scenes to someone else’s curated feed. At the end of the day, it's all for the aesthetics/entertainment.

Be gentle with yourself. You're doing better than you think, angel. xo, Kay 🪽

[girlkisser13]

clara bow

"you look like percy jackson" "in this light, we're loving it" "you've got edge he never did" "the future's bright, dazzling"

pairings: percy jackson x fem!reader

warnings/tags: none. purely fluff. dad percy.

summary: your daughter looks just like her father.

the sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the sandy shores of montauk beach. percy jackson, now in his mid-twenties, stretched out on a towel, enjoying the peaceful sound of the waves crashing against the shore. you lay beside him, watching your four-year-old daughter as she ran along the water's edge, her laughter mingling with the sea breeze.

"she's got your energy," you remarked with a smile, glancing at percy. his dark hair, tousled by the wind, and his sea-green eyes were mirrored in your daughter. her curls bounced as she chased after the foam, her excitement palpable.

"yeah," percy replied, his voice filled with pride. "and your curiosity. look at her go. she's like a little explorer."

you watched your daughter with a mix of amusement and nostalgia. the way she fearlessly dove into the waves, her little feet leaving imprints in the wet sand, reminded you so much of percy when the two of you first met. he had the same fearless nature, the same insatiable curiosity about the world around him.

"do you remember the first time we came here together?" you asked, your voice softening as you looked at percy. "you were so determined to show me how to surf, even though the waves were huge."

he chuckled, recalling the memory. "i remember. you wiped out spectacularly, but you got right back up. that’s one of the things i love about you, y/n. you're as stubborn as i am."

you laughed, leaning your head against percy's shoulder. "and now our daughter has inherited that stubbornness. but you know, she has something else, too."

he raised an eyebrow, curious. "oh? what's that?"

"an edge," you said, your eyes twinkling. "she's got this… determination, this drive, that goes beyond what either of us had at her age. she's not just fearless; she's fearless and focused. it’s like she knows exactly what she wants and won't stop until she gets it."

percy watched as his daughter stood on a small sand dune, her eyes scanning the horizon as if searching for something only she could see. "yeah, i see it too," he admitted. "she's got this fire in her. It's amazing."

you smiled, feeling a swell of pride. "that's your influence, percy. but she also has my patience, my ability to think things through. she’s a perfect blend of us both, with her own unique spark."

he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. "we make a pretty great team, don’t we?"

you nodded, resting your head on his chest. "we do. and we’re raising an incredible daughter. she's going to do amazing things."

as the two of you watched your daughter build a sandcastle with unwavering determination, you felt a deep sense of contentment. your journey together had been filled with challenges and triumphs, and now, watching your daughter thrive, you knew that every moment had been worth it.

"hey, y/d/n!" percy called out. "come show us your castle!"

she turned, her face lighting up with a bright smile. she ran towards the both of you, her small hands covered in sand. "look, mommy! daddy! it's a castle for the mermaids!"

as your daughter continued to describe the intricate details of her mermaid castle, you and percy exchanged a tender glance, your hearts swelling with love and pride. the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the beach and turning the waves into sparkling gems.

percy, still holding you close, leaned in and whispered, "so, what do you think? want to make another one?"

you looked up at him, your eyes wide with surprise and amusement. "another castle?" you teased, knowing full well what he meant.

percy laughed, shaking his head. "you know what i mean. another little jackson running around, making sandcastles and chasing waves."

you pretended to ponder the idea, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "hmm, well, y/d/n is pretty amazing... maybe another one wouldn’t be so bad."

percy grinned, leaning down to plant a soft kiss to your lips. "i think we’d make another pretty great team project."

you swatted him lightly on the shoulder, "you did not just call our daughter a project!"

you both laughed as your daughter came running back to the two of you, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "what’s so funny?"

"nothing, sweetheart," you said, scooping her up into your arms. "just talking about how much we love you."

she giggled, wrapping her arms around your neck. "i love you too, mommy. and you, daddy."

as the three of you made your way back to your beach blanket, the sun setting behind you, you and percy knew that whatever the future held, the both of you would face it together, your hearts forever intertwined by the love of your little family.

"maybe one day," percy murmured to you as you watched your daughter settle down with her favorite blanket, the waves lulling her to sleep.

"maybe," you agreed, squeezing his hand. "but for now, this is perfect."

and with that, the two of you sat together, watching the stars emerge in the night sky, your hearts full of love and gratitude for the life you had built together.

[the-one-and-only-elita]

While I still feel like we should have gotten way more of Elita in TFOne, I do like what we saw of her and how she serves as a contrast to D-16. This especially goes for their respective relationships with Orion.

D-16 and Elita are pretty similar when you think about it. They are both pretty serious and driven people who both earnestly committed themselves to the system in hopes of climbing the latter.

Though its worth noting that while Elita is very proactive when it comes to climbing the latter, constantly chasing promotions, D-16 is much more passive, choosing to keep his head low and slowly but steadily work his way up.

When they learn the truth about Sentinel Prime's rule and how they were deceived and exploited, Elita does not lose herself to anger the way D-16 does, despite her intense devotion to succeeding within the system being her defining trait up until this point. I wish her feelings on the matter were explored more, but its clear her focus purely becomes about exposing Sentinel and freeing her fellow miners.

This is where Elita and D-16 go in complete opposite directions in terms of character development, which is illustrated in how they treat Orion.

D-16 completely shuts Orion out, even becoming aggressive towards him and blaming him for the pain of learning the truth. He completely disregards anything Orion has to say, paying no mind to any plan or strategy Orion proposes. He starts to treat him as a hindrance, and even before their relationship began to degrade, he was very reluctant to take part in Orion's "schemes." This of course, is what culminates in "I'm not saving you anymore" and D-16 deciding to drop Orion.

Then there is Elita, who in Orion's darkest hour, takes it upon herself to try and uplift him despite her inexperience with any sort of emotional intimacy. She makes it clear that she values his plans, his optimism, and his rebellious nature, everything D-16 grew to resent him for.

Both Elita and D-16 have very aggressive personalities, but while D-16 uses his to dominate his way to the top of the decepticon hierarchy, Elita uses her's to uplift Orion. She commands the attention of the other miners when Orion is too soft spoken to do so himself, and together they lead their people against their shared tyrant (much like what Orion wanted to do with D-16).

I personally love this dynamic between them. Elita having already mastered the assertive aspect of leadership, without the ability to adequately inspire or be charismatic; whereas Orion/Optimus brings the ideology and charisma to the equation, without the ability to properly assert himself in a way that leadership requires. (If I'm allowed to be unserious for a second, its very "Excuse me! He asked for no pickles")

While it's unclear if the writers intend to pursue a romantic arc between Optimus and Elita in the sequel, it's obvious by Optimus' decision to make Elita his Major that they will be working very closely with together going forward. While Orion may have been powerless to preserve his relationship with D-16, Optimus' relationship with Elita is the one he will be forging going into the future.

[stilessflannel]

idk if you write for luke but imagine sneaking into mr ds office and getting comfy because you like the idea of getting caught 👀

this has been going around my head ever since i received it and i finally did something about it 😗 also i got asked for a percy jackson smut and to do whatever i want with it (yk who you are sweet anon) so does this count? muah xx

sneaking into mr d’s office with luke castellan was something you thought you’d never do. but your boyfriend had a tendency to ignore or try break unspoken rules, and that led to luke interrupting your cabin’s lava wall training, promising them their counsellor would be back soon as he dragged you away.

“are you out of your mind?” you hiss at him, checking behind you every five seconds, “we’re going to get caught by mr d or chiron!”

luke only offered the signature grin all hermes kids owned and continued until he had locked the door behind you. there wasn't much to take in - big wooden desk, a map of half-blood hill on a wall, a dusty bookshelf, and the faint smell of diet coke. while you were taking in your surroundings, luke gained a keen interest in the desk with locked drawers down each side. it only took a few seconds before he had them unlocked and he pulled up a bag full of drachmas.

normally you'd never go around to the other side of the desk to try pry a drawer open for yourself. the idea wouldn't even cross your mind to stuff as many bags of gold into your pockets as you possibly could; but it was mr d and drachmas he wouldn't be spending anytime soon seeing as he was confined to the camps boundaries, anyone would do the same.

once you were finished luke's arms wrap around your waist and hoist you onto the surface of the desk, as warm lips attack your neck and big hands work their way up and under your orange shirt. a sigh escapes your lips and your fingers wrap into his raven hair. "hey there"

"hey" he mumbles back, muffled against your neck as he presses a last kiss behind your ear and pressing his forehead against yours. "twenty minutes 'till lunch."

"yeah... wanna go back to mine?" you offer your cabin, playing with the beads on his camp necklace. an unsure hum from him makes you look up at him. you can see the lightbulb light up behind his blue irises. he picks you up so your legs wrap around his hips and sits back into the padded desk chair

"i think we'll be just fine here, yeah?" he said, pressing a kiss into the side of your mouth and working his way back down your neck to make the marks he left earlier brighter. you try your hardest to focus on luke and the heavenly way his mouth feels on your skin, but your mind kept jumping to mr d and chiron finding their two best counsellors in this state. the thought of either of them terrified you to your wits end, but also sent a surge of thrill through your veins.

luke brings you back by digging his teeth into your collarbone and eliciting a groan from you, effectively shutting off your care for who could catch you. you grab his jaw and force him to look at you and you fold - his lovesick face with pupils blown wide from lust makes you crash your lips against his. its messy and rough and perfect for you two as hands explore each others bodies. you pull away to tug your shirt off your head and he follows suit, then you're back on each other again.

the sound fills with small moans, sighs, and gasps from both of you. you're too far gone to hear the footsteps approach the door, too caught up in the feeling of grinding against luke and hearing his faint groans to notice the voices behind the door and the rattling of the handle being twisted. it isn't until the door squeaks on its hinges that you turn to look over your shoulder and see mr d, his face as red as the wine he invented.

you could argue the two weeks wash up duty was worth it.

taglist: @izzieluvsdelusion @azure-drag0ness @vivi-anasan @percyssunlithope @amandareids @raysmayhem-72 // join the taglist here

[anonymouscheeses]

Even more and more of obvious shit I point out because I want an excuse to rant while not interacting with actual people in real life who also like this show because I'm masking 😍💜💜

BARELY STARTED AND BRO. YOU JUST LET HER DO THAT TO YOU, ME PERSONALLY-

HE'S PETTING KEE-KEE I LOVE HIM SMM

HER HOOVES. I LOVE IT. NOT LIKE THAT, IM JUST A FURRY-

*grabs pen*

ANGRY CHARLIE FOR THE WIN. I LOVE WHEN THE HAPPY CHARACTER GETS ANGSTY (Cough. Luz. Cough).

The people writing fanfics where she gets FURIOUS. Omg. That was something I read. I LOVE MY FELLOW FANFIC WRITERS BUT OH MY- YALL REALLY HAD CHARLIE M A D.

"Uh-"

I love his reaction lmao look at his goofy face.

HER BOW BECAME HORNS (my "redesign" is now 100% worse)

SAD VAGGIE. THE BOW. DROOPY.

Oh and the angel dust fellow back there 🤯

I LOVE ROSIE SO MUCH HUH

Tall.

No explanation needed. <3

PLEASE HELP???

CUTIE PATOOTIE. I LOVE HER SM UGGHHH

CHARLIE HATES OLD PEOPLE COMFIRMED YAY 😍😍💅💅

Hot

That's it.

IN SYNC. I LOVE THIS SONG AND THE ENTIRE SCENE. WHY IS IT RANKED SO LOW WITH SOME OF YALL?? Okay well-

I thought this song was gonna be a Charlie and Vaggie duet- tbh I still preferred that BUT I LOVE CARMILLA SO I KINDA DONT CARE.

BUT I WAS ROBBED OF AN ACTUAL FULL CHAGGIE DUET (REPRISE DOESNT COUNT) IF H*SKERDUST GETS A FULL ONE WHY CAN'T CHAGGIE? *SOB* uhh anyway-

Is that. Like. How she thinks actually 😰

I know there's been a lot of the lack of Vaggie's self-worth, which I wish was explored into more. I just think the Vaggie(3rd) episode just wasn't needed at all if it didn't even have an impact. Don't get me started on that episode, it was rushed, too early to have character arcs already, and overall not needed or even should have existed periodt.

I hope they explore it next season because GOD this woman needs TO LOVE HERSELF. OR ATLEAST CARE ABOUT HERSELF LIKE????

SWEET MAMA PLEASE. TAKE ME IN YOUR WINGS AAAAAAAAA

Charlie, sharing is caring <3

Out of all the people I thought Charlie would vent to I didn't think it would be ROSIE. It's a nice surprise tho I love her <3

bisexuality.

That's it.

HE'S DANCING. ALASTOR IS DANCING. THEY ARE SLAYING BESTIES. THE MAN IS DANCING. HELP.

Season 2 is going to be Charlie in her villain era and Alastor's reputation era 😍

I LOVE VAGGIE'S FACE. PRECIOUS BABY UGHH... THEN THE WINGS REPLACE THE BOW AND DROOP UGGHH I HOPE IN SEASON 2 WE SEE MORE OF HER WINGS. OR CUT HER HAIR SHORT SO WE CAN HAVE IT ALL THE TIME. Also so Husk and Vaggie can bond over both having wings. Sorry I love their potential friendship so much. AND LUCIFER AND VAGGIE TOO!! BOTH BEING FALLEN ANGELS OMG. UGH THE POTENTIAL OF VAGGIE'S RELATIONSHIPS WITH NOT JUST CHARLIE ARE SO GOOD AND I HAVE BEEN ROBBED OF SEEING HER AS AN ACTUALLY MORE FLESHED OUT CHARACTER. I AM SCREAMING AAAAAAAA.

I can't say how much I love them. It's too much. I cant- yay the teaser image before the show came out <3 they are so fucking adorable. UGH SOME1 END ME

Charlie loves the wings hehehe. Vaggie looks nervous about it. It's probably a reminder to her about when she used to be an exterminator. The healing from everything will take a long time but hopefully Charlie will be there for her the entire time. And vice versa

Ayo- 😰

CHARLIE. T H E PRECIOUS BABY.

Uh next one tomorrow cuz yeah 🤯

[howthesleeplesswander]

Two days. She allowed herself—or, perhaps forced herself—to wait two days.

The citizens of Rosas were so strong. Faced with their joy at reuniting with their long-lost wishes, one could almost forget the heinous acts committed by the man they once revered as king.

Almost. Amaya was not as strong as her people.

She was happy for them; truly and wholeheartedly. There was nothing fake about her smile as she watched her citizens come together and take the first steps toward making their dreams come true. It was fine that no one realized how cruel it was. No one wondered how their queen could be happy when her own dream had nearly been destroyed by the person she'd vowed to share it with.

It was a different kind of hurt than any she'd ever known: like a living thing shackled within her chest cavity, clawing and tearing at her heart as if it had been the one to cage it there. Not even the happiness all around could quell it. Indeed, there was only one thing that could.

And so, in the darkest hours of her second sleepless night, Amaya swept through the castle halls. She didn't dare stop for fear that the courage to continue would abandon her. The few servants she passed didn't dare ask why the queen was up at this hour or why she hadn't even changed into her nightclothes.

It wasn't until she reached the dungeon stairs that she paused. When she pressed a steadying hand to her chest, the pain she felt had nothing to do with the dark bruise marring from her collarbone to the neckline of her gown. (Her Matteo had always been warm and loving—now she knew how vicious his magic could be.) A hurricane of nerves, uncertainty, and heartache roiled beneath her palm. But in the eye of the storm, Amaya knew one thing:

She had to do this. She had to know.

Head held high and shoulders squared, her steps didn't waver as she descended. For her own sake, Amaya braced herself for anger, for the corrupt ramblings of a madman. But when she stood before the dungeon's only occupied cell and Magnifico's voice reached her, he sounded...

No. She wouldn't be weakened by hope. Outwardly, she remained impassive. Guarded.

"There is no precaution that is too excessive after everything you've done." Her voice was carefully measured. Lacking any trace of affection no matter how much it pained her. Magnifico was no longer just her beloved, her king; he was a criminal, and a traitor to Rosas. She knew that he deserved to be here. Yet her own traitorous heart still anguished at the sight of him suffering this fate of his own making.

"You seem to have calmed," she observed. The bars between them made it difficult, but she scrutinized what she could see of her husband's face. "Are you...yourself again?"

@howthesleeplesswander || are we ready to die? i think we're ready to die 8'D

He had no concept of time down here. Only that enough time had passed for his mind to clear, reality to assert itself, and King Magnifico to find—

Well, a dungeon cell was no more befitting a king than the mirror just as abhorrently containing him. So, what was he? After all he had done for Rosas, the sacrifices he’d made, the protection he’d offered them for years beyond count, they would treat their king like some common criminal? His queen would dare to turn her back on…

His queen. Amaya. Amaya.

Magnifico had run his muddled mind through the events of that day on a near tireless loop: picking at bits and pieces of his memory, recollecting flashes here, a foggy and distorted mess there. And despite all that he had gathered—a puzzle he’d had plenty of time to build—he’d yet to trace back to what had offended her so. What had antagonized her, driven her to stand against him as if he were the villain betraying the very kingdom he had built?

I built this. We built this.

And he’d promised from the beginning he’d do anything and everything it took to protect it. No questions asked. No holds barred. Magnifico used that book because he had to. The people hadn’t given him a choice; if he had let them—

No. No, no no. We said we’d never let that happen again.

But nevertheless, here he was. Dethroned. Defamed. He’d almost convinced himself his queen planned on letting him rot eternally, but when he heard the creak of a door on that fateful day—could’ve been morning, afternoon… or perhaps his darling had decided to pay an evening visit when all had quieted down—Magnifico hadn’t needed to see her to know. Her footsteps were a recognizable rhythm, soft and elegant, down the steps. Somehow, the echo seemed to penetrate his magical prison just as well, and in some way, each beat trembled down to his core.

When she stood outside the bars, however, peered in at that loathsome little mirror on the wall, he was ready to face her. That is, he’d convinced the faint flutter in his chest that he was.

“You’ve placed a magical mirror in which I am already very securely contained—trust me, I’ve had plenty of time to determine that’s the case—within a literal prison cell,” he observed blandly, head cocking while a bitter smile tugged on his lips. “Is that not just a touch excessive, my dear?”

[literatureloverx]

D A Z A I O S A M U

Dazai analysis [x relationship with his potential darling]

BSD Dazai x ideal type fem!reader

Disclaimer: MDNI, depression, melancholy, suggestive in general.

It would be better if you read THIS first.

I wanted to write NSFW head canons but guess who is in a soft mood? I’m going to write that in the near future. I promise. 🩵

No matter how much Dazai plays the role of “the player” and tries to distance himself from any deep connections to avoid being hurt, it doesn’t change the fact that he is a deeply wounded child.

He wears a mask of indifference and charm, yet behind that façade lies a heart ravaged by loss and abandonment.

“…anything I never want to lose is always lost. This is how it’s always been for me. Everything worth wanting is lost the moment I obtain it. And nothing I pursue is worth the cost of prolonging this life. The suffering.”

He feels that everything worth wanting disappears the moment he obtains it.

He didn’t feel anything until he learned to love, and only then did he truly understand the depth of his pain after losing the person he cherished the most—the one who, despite his brokenness, refused to abandon him.

The only person who ever loved him unconditionally; Odasaku.

His emotional state mirrors the chaos in his life: chaotic, uncertain, and perpetually in search of something he can never quite grasp.

In my opinion, his sexual behavior reflects his internal struggles—soulless, empty, and loveless.

It is desperate and fleeting, yet he remains too far removed from his true self to trust anyone with the full extent of his desperation.

The women he meets become mere distractions, tools to temporarily fill the void in his heart.

He yearns for connection and someone to understand his pain, hoping to be saved from his own darkness.

Dazai is secretly a romantic at heart, despite his flings and possible one-night stands that never satisfy his deeper longing.

These encounters leave him feeling more empty than fulfilled.

He has left “so many women crying,” as Chuuya puts it, because they cannot fill the void he carries within; they cannot bring him the solace he craves.

What Dazai truly needs in a partner is someone who can fill that void—not with superficial affection but with unconditional love and understanding.

If he had met his darling during his Port Mafia era, their story would be profoundly different, prompting a deeper exploration of that specific timeframe later.

Unlike Fyodor, who embodies an “all or nothing” mentality, Dazai strives to connect and to find something that might lift the weight from his heart.

Like Fyodor, he would either be entirely devoted to his darling or remain uncommitted altogether.

He would struggle with trust, finding it difficult to let anyone in and to believe in the possibility of lasting love.

Dazai would instinctively pull the “you can fix me” card at the beginning of the relationship, testing his darling’s resolve and kindness.

He would charm his darling with his wit and playful banter, but beneath that playful exterior lies a fear of vulnerability.

Dazai craves authenticity, a genuine connection that transcends the physical. In the presence of his darling, he would grapple with the realization that she sees the parts of him he hides from the world.

His darling’s unwavering support and compassion might frighten him, but she would also inspire a flicker of hope—a chance to feel, to love and be loved without fear.

As their relationship unfolds, Dazai would begin to experience moments of unexpected vulnerability, caught off guard by how easily his darling sees through his carefully crafted walls.

He would share fragments of his past—stories of loss, betrayal, and the darkness that lingers in his heart—creating a bridge between their souls and drawing them closer.

Dazai would wrestle with self-sabotage, often retreating into his old habits and pushing his partner away in an attempt to protect both of them. (My poor baby, I want to hug him.)

He would fear that his darling might wake up one day and realise that she deserves better than him, wrestling with his own insecurities.

As time passes, Dazai would begin to understand that love is not a weakness but a strength.

His darling would teach him that it’s okay to lean on someone, to share the burden of his past.

With every shared moment, he would learn to let go of the fear that had held him captive for so long.

Just when he begins to believe in the possibility of a brighter future, a haunting shadow from his past would emerge, threatening to shatter the fragile bond they’ve built. (I’m making some drama out of this)

A former associate from the Port Mafia might reappear, a reminder of the life Dazai had tried to escape, forcing him to confront his own demons. (I’m delusional but imagine this)

He would realise that he needs to take action and commit to the relationship, showing that he chooses his partner and their love.

Through it all, Dazai would discover that love is not just about finding someone to save him but about allowing himself to be vulnerable and to love in return.

He would learn that while the shadows of his past may never fully disappear, they no longer have to control him.

His partner would be his light, illuminating the path toward healing.

[buffetlicious]

Anyway, here were the dishes we ordered. The first to be served was the Rigatoni Alla Vodka (S$22++), penne in tomato and cream sauce with vodka added. The vodka emulsifies the sauce and enhances flavour. I got to try a piece of the pasta and alcohol was quite pronounced.

Two people ordered the Stone Age Burger (S$20++) with angus beef patty, cheese, red onion, pickles and coated straight-cut fries. Although I did not get to try the burger, I was given some fries and it was well flavoured and crispy on the outside and fluffy inside.

Both my two colleagues next to me had the Stone-Cut Schnitzel (S$28++) which is deep-fried tenderized pork loin cutlet with sour potato salad, cranberry compote and lemon. They finished every bit on the plate, so must be good.

Colleague’s family had this Cave Smoked Rib (S$36++) to share. 500 grams of pork rib barbecued to perfection and glazed with BBQ sauce. Came with a side of pickled cucumbers. She told me it was very good so you will have to take her words for it. :D.

My Charcoal-Grilled Spring Chicken (S$28++) was the last to be served, but it was worth the wait. A juicy and succulent whole spring chicken grilled to a mouthwatering goodness, covered in lightly spicy peri-peri sauce. Gave the lemon a squeeze to release the juice which helps to cut down the greasiness and add acidity.

Since we still have more than a hour to waste before the bus will arrive to ferry us back, colleagues suggested we go have a drink. We had exited the park and wander around the vicinity looking for a place to hang out. One colleague said she wanted to drink Masala Tea so we went to an Indian Restaurant. Other than the two of us who ordered Masala Tea, the others did not enjoy their tea which is either too sweet or tasteless or both. No tea pictures to show but we found many Torch Ginger Flowers (Etlingera elatior) blooming along the way and Waterfall.

To summarise the visit to Rainforest Wild Asia. If you are here to see the animals, you might end up a little disappointed as there aren’t a lot to be seen. Here, the landscapes imitate the rainforest of Asia with plenty of flora and most of the animals are not used to be up close with humans, so they tend to stay away from the open area. Overheard another group of visitors’ conversation, she was lamenting to another about having only seen tortoises. :D Poor girl needs to open her eyes big big to spot the animals among the trees, shrubs and brushes. On the other hand, if you are the adventurous type, there are plenty of hands-on activities to enjoy though not all of them are free. You can also venture off the beaten path (elevated walkway) and explore the streams and undergrowth of a tropical rainforest.

[lordofmelancholy]

Ok

so

Do you remember what Singed did to Jinx

You know

the scene

How far do you think either Jinx or Ekko or both would go to save their lil girl.

Do you think they would be smart.

Or do you think that much like Silco, desperation to save what’s most precious to them would override their judgement, their common sense

After all, as Silco once said,

is there anything more as undoing as a daughter

The entire shimmer scene but it’s with Isha in Jinx's place

and not one but two paranoid parents forced to watch because in this Singed is not trusted worth a damn even worse then the show and Jinx and Ekko refused to be put to sleep at the risk of something happening. Jinx holds him at gunpoint the entire time. Ekko is barely able to keep from pulling the trigger several times as he works on Isha, makes her scream.

A few times, he almost lets her pull the trigger. But they need him

And ya know what makes it even worse

The fact that, Singed always seems to be right about things Even in the show he never lies, he’s always honest, he really has no reason to lie. But in this case Jinx and Ekko can’t tell if he’s lying or not

He says things like it may not work or there’s a chance she might not make it through, but Ekko and Jinx can’t tell if he’s trying to throw them off or if he’s serious because they don’t trust him

The barrel subtly twitches more and more the longer bluenette holds it against him. Yet it's not from the exhaustion of holding it. Her elbow doesn't buckle from it's hooked position, her shoulders remain steady. A practiced hand holds the piece.

Nay, the gun shakes because the woman is being unraveled more and more by his off-handed remarks, his stretching of the truth. Ekko tries to get him to focus, to shut up. Yet Reveck sees also the growing temptation in the man's eye as well. One that matches the woman's earlier fire of wanting to shut him up permentantly

and maybe he likes it

Maybe despite what he tells himself, Reveck does have a god-complex After all it feels nice almost

A weak man, an ordinary man, and he has two of the most notorious people known in the zone bent on his whim solely because they’re not so much different than him deep down.

He has no reason to lie of course. Lying gets no where

Isha is young. Young bounce back surprisingly. But Isha is also one foot in the grave and one on the floor missing the wet floor sign

He’s not lying when he says she might not make it

but whether or not they believe him is another thing

Maybe he is truthful, maybe he’s stretching it in a way for some nefarious purpose. Maybe he simply wants them to suffer, wants to enjoy the power he holds over the zone’s notorious duo over what he could potentially do unto their little one.

But he also could be curious, could note oddities in this young child, this potential… specimen in how her body reacts to the chemical, to the mutation.

A weak man, an ordinary man he might be. Maybe one with a more sadistic side than he could've potentially imagined, maybe even with that God-complex. But he was also a dangerously curious man, an inhumanely explorer in scientific fields. And Isha could potentially be a fascinating and remarkable subject to explore, it would be a shame to simply allow her to leave.

After all? "The mutation must survive."

But what if it doesn’t survive Or at least doesn’t look like it does at first.

The fear the terror, even in agony Isha still looks towards her parents Wonders why they haven’t moved why they haven’t stopped this

oh god make it STOP

But she can’t speak She never could

She can't tell them no

Jinx is reminded of when they stitched her up before hand. Before they made it back to the compound. She remembers Isha's agony. Remembers how gut-wrenching it was to watch her face scrunch up…her teeth grit to the point of chipping… vocalizing only in low hushes or mute whimpers and cries because she cant talk.

But this is different. This is worse This is terrible

The entire time looks no different then when Singed does it to Jinx in the show

The coughing the choking the agony.

Her tears her blood,

the bile she pukes out

all a sickly purplish hue

And sometime in the middle of it all perhaps Jinx wasn’t thinking.

Perhaps maybe she was.

Perhaps maybe it as a long buried instinct that she noted even Ekko was fighting against.

The need to be close

The need to be nearer than what she is.

All it takes is a second Just one Before she drops her gun Before she rushes forward.

And maybe even Reveck is shocked about it for just a moment but he’s too focused on his work to not even realize one of the guns isn’t even on him anymore.

So he just continues to work

Watching

Observing

Jinx is by Isha's side in seconds and in no less than a few minutes, she is coated down her side in mucus spit tears and bile as she sits with her. Holds her. Coated in all things that leave a purple sheen on her clothes and exposed skin. All things that even not so far into the procedure don’t even smell right now anymore.

Isha’s nails draw blood on Jinx’s arms as she squirms and thrashes

Red like rubies against skin White like snow

And no amount of talking calms the child

no amount of pleading and pledging that this will fix everything and that everything will be ok in the end convinces the child to well through the agony.

Jinx can only look at Ekko, desperate eye's and a question deep in them that's to late in the situation to ask out loud

Did we make a mistake

Ekko doesn’t know

Then. . .something happens.

There’s a stutter; an odd choking sound that somehow manages to make itself known in the cacophony of misery sounding throughout the space between the chaos.

One that makes them stop One that makes them look Because it’s one that chills all who know it down to the bone

Jinx is familiar with it Ekko is familiar with it

Even Singed is well versed in the sound.

Stutter Choke Gasp Wheeze

Stutter Choke Gasp Wheeze

Stutter Choke Gasp Wheeze

Stutter Choke Gasp Wheeze

Wheeze. Choke. Gasp

Gasp

Gasp

Gasp

Wheeze

Silence

stillness

. . .Jinx remembers. . .back before…when they tried to help Isha the first time. . .them being done. Of Isha being still, silent, still breathing (thank Janna) but dead silent. . .having finally cried herself out moments before they were ever actually done.

But this is. . .different

“Isha?”

Stillness

Silence

She hears Ekko’s voice somewhere above the water

“Isha?”

There’s a tremor in his voice. Like he noticed something she didn’t

And it says a lot because Jinx is the one holding her. The one coated in her

So what is she not noticing

Silence

Stillness

Stillness

Quiet

“Isha!”

But Isha’s quiet. . .Isha’s still. . .like she was before. Like how Jinx remembered

But its. . .different

Because Isha’s. . .not. . .breathing this time

A tragedy, the parents no doubt think, no doubt agonize over. A tragic loss, a soul tearing, heart breaking calamity in their world

For the scientist?

A darn pity.

The subject seems to have expired. Variables in her genealogy that he would have loved to have studied in much further, vivid depth is lost now. A curiosity left unanswered before he could truly explore it.

Reveck watching the scene with a sense of morbid detachment

Less like a doctor who lost a patient, a young one at that, but more so a man who just lost his morning paper to a misplaced wind gust and a dirty gray puddle on the floor.

He watches. Observes.

Watches them beg, plead, cry, demand the limp, half-lidded child to just wake up.

Pet names, nicknames, shakes, begs, plea’s

And despite himself, he does feel a twinge somewhere in his heart because despite the disattachment he understands

He knows what this is like.

He watches and observes and he remembers his own grief at loosing his own daughter. But there’s a difference.

Science is about trial and error He ran a trial and produced an error But errors are simply learning experiences.

This child is a hopeless cause. No matter how much the parents try to resus her while he stands by watching unnoticed for just a bit of time. With every loss comes a chance to learn aftera ll. A chance to make better.

This child is a lost cause

His daughter’s not.

But he can’t learn here. Not so close to the barrel of a gun held within the hands of grieving parents

you can leave now, go go while their distracted.

He turns

He runs

He gets down the hallway

POP

Something hits the wall next to him Paint chips an tiled wall hit him in the cheek

He turns for just a moment

See’s Ekko holding a smoking gun in his hand with Jinx grieving behind him.

But Reveck simply smiles

He's far enough away They're not gonna come to him

He knows better

They’re no different

Even now they won’t leave her

So instead he smiles as he stares down the barrel and he tells them the truth just once more

“I never lied

I told you the risks”

Then he leaves, ignoring the muffled sounds of agony with each step he takes

_ _ _ @wofworld

ping/pain for you c:

[dumbgoondog]

Kenjaku NSFW Alphabet

MDNI +18 NSFW

I ain’t satisfied to much with this might revisit, but I got a general idea started.

Cw/Tw - SA allegations, manipulation, CNC, unhealthy, and gore? Brain shit.

(A)ftercare - He’s on it fr fr. Washing you, had a drink ready, cuddles, praise, kisses. He is a lover, and a good one at that.

(B)ody Part - your neck. It’s so very complex, he likes marking it, choking you too. There’s so much trust to let someone touch your neck and he loves that.

(C)um - Say it with me! Breeder! Breeding! B-R-E-E-D! Inside! As deep as he can! Or as deep in him as you can! He gave birth. Probably has in the past given birth and gotten people pregnant too. The death paintings as well. Let’s be real.

(D)irty Secret - finger his brain or just touch it in general. It’s sensitive so be gentle but god he loves it! It’s a cursed object so don’t worry about breaking it easy, if you’re to rough it can hurt tho.

(E)xperience - A lot. Multiple centuries worth. He’s not a whore per se, but sex certainly is a tool for survival.

(F)avorite Position - both standing, from behind, arch your back so he can hold your throat and kiss you.

(G)oofy - not really… sadly. He can be goofy tho and make you roll your eyes in amusement because he might get distracted and start yappin with his dick in you.

(H)air - he’s got that trimmed and washed. Well groomed. Smells great!

(I)ntimacy - he’s so intimate, no matter how hard he’s fucking your brains out. He’s here to worship your body like it’s the answer to all of his problems.

(J)ack off - Not really. Unless it’s to tease. Again, it’s more a tool to him.

(K)ink - science kink. We all saw the nurse fit. He loves exploring your body like it’s the first human body he’s ever seen, and finding all the unique things about it. Finding your limits, what feels best, what is a turn on, all of it. Improper use of jujustu too.

(L)ocation - he has to favorite location, he do like it in public tho. Risky is delicious, he likes the fun of it!

(M)otivation - Not specifically a turn on, but he loves your passions and when you’re really into something! He’s super supportive about it too.

(N)o - you cannot fuck his brain or use a strap on it. The mouth is too small, and it’ll hurt to slide between the halves like that.

(O)ral - he loves receiving oral. As much as he sticks that damn tongue out, he wants to talk to you while you suck him off more.

(P)ace - he’s rough. He can be fast or slow, but he’s rough and cruel. He teases HARD. He wants you begging and to break yo brain.

(Q)uicky - he’s up for a quicky but prefers to take his time and enjoy things. He’s a journey man, not a results man.

(R)isk - he LOVES trying new things, he loves learning that people have a kink for and why, where it came from. Trauma based or developed from something? Was it hereditary? He’s tried a lot and is up for a lot.

(S)tamina - yes. God he has a lot. He stops when you’re done. You’ve not found him to ever tap out first.

(T)oys - He honestly prefers using toys on you than using himself! He loves it, watching your reactions touching, controlling the toy and the pace, he loves it.

(U)nfair - He’s a massive tease, being coy and making you ask for everything. He loves barely touching or using things against you. He loves denying you from cumming or ruining your orgasm if you’re into it.

(V)olume - he’s a low groan and huffer. Grunts and hums of delight. He loves if you’re loud too

(W)ild Card - As perfect as he is with you… he’s not a good guy. He’s explicitly very very evil. He’s controlling, and you don’t even know it. He curates your friend group, how your work is going and when you’ll get a raise or promotion. He slowly influences what you wear and eat too. Nothing crazy, but he likes knowing he is apart of your every waking moment and especially when you break his expectations or do something out of routine! He does love you. He’s just taking care of you in his mind, because he has so much experience he knows what’s good for you.

(X)-ray - BLACK LACE THONG. I am dead serious. He’s a fancy ass, and he thinks it’s funny plus comfy as hell. He thinks it’s a power move as well. He LOVED your first reaction to it as well.

(Y)es - CNC, what with bitches thinking he raped that girl, it was a bit traumatic honestly! He swore off sex for a bit even! Then he like many with sexual trauma learned about CNC and uses it as a healthy kink thang. He likes being the victim and the aggressor and he’s kinda private about it. He needs to trust you a lot first.

(Z)zz - Oh I could see him nappin, he’s taking care of you then cuddling up, put on a show, and nap with you. He likes the vulnerability and the domestic feel of it. Despite his grand age and protest, he IS still human and craves that connection.

[psychhound]

spiritkeep conflict resolution system

howdy howdy!! bit of a delay but back at it again at krispy kreme

for todays spiritkeep post we're talking about rolling mechanics!!

for those who are new … spiritkeep is a multiplayer campaign game designed to help players heal from complex trauma!!

okay … so this was the last item on the docket to talk about for spiritkeep, which is very exciting!! :) we're going to explore rolling & stats as well as a little of the philosophy behind the design

the basic thing to know for rolling is that for each roll you make, you roll 2 dice and add 2 modifiers

which dice you roll are up to you!! for almost every action, you'll have between d4s and d12s to choose from, and you're allowed to double up. so you might roll 2d6, 2d8, 1d4+1d8, 1d10+1d12, and so on

there are a few catches though :) generally, rolling higher = a more successful action. so rolling bigger dice give you a higher chance of success. But! you only start each arc with 1d10 and 1d12, and you have a limited number of "slots" that you can hold more in. when you choose to roll a d4, you get a d12 to use later. if you choose a d6, you get a d10. you can hold up to five d10s and d12s, known as Effort Dice, at a time. the dice you roll are less tied to how good your character is at an action, rather representing how much Effort your character is putting into that action

but … are Effort Dice always better? not necessarily!! if you're continuously putting the maximum amount of effort possible into everything you do, that's not sustainable!! for that reason, you're given a range of 5 numbers as your Target Goal which is the sweet spot that you want to hit while rolling. for example, a 10-15 is an action that will take a pretty standard amount of effort, a 15-20 is going to be a little trickier to pull off …

if you choose to roll an Effort Die and also roll above your Target Goal … you do exceptionally well And take a point of Burnout. multiple points of Burnout leads to conditions, and multiple conditions leads to a breakdown (both of which have narrative & mechanical effects)

you add your stat modifiers to your dice in order to get your total. rather than stats representing concrete skills, they represent different approaches to problem solving your character is more practiced in. there are three categories of stats - mind, body, and spirit - representing how your character thinks, how theyre embodied in the world, and what they value. theres no such thing as a negative stat, rather stats are paired and lean positive to one side or the other (at least to start). the gm will ask for a combination of two stats to be rolled for each challenge, sometimes from the same category and sometimes different

i wanted to design the conflict resolution system this way for a few reasons

one, i wanted a similar range of numbers to try and hit to d&d, as i know a lot of my audience will already be familiar with that, but i hate how swingy the d20 is. using two dice make it far less swingy, while also increasing opportunities for strategy and system mastery. it adds in a bit of resource management and generally adds a lot of crunch to the system for very little mechanical complexity

two, i wanted to show that outcomes can be both intentional and based in luck. you can put a lot of effort into something in order to do better. sometimes youll still get unlucky and it wont work out. most of the time you'll still be more successful than if you hadn't tried as hard

third, i wanted to emphasize that putting 100% of your effort into everything just isnt sustainable. you have to pace yourself if you want to be successful, some things aren't worth putting as much effort as possible into, and sometimes you have to fail first to learn from it and succeed later

there's a bit more complexity to this system but … that'll have to wait for the full game to come out :)

as always, if you want to support this project, i have sales going here and here!! keep a look out for a masterpost in the next few weeks here!!

[questionablecuttlefish]

Ezreal's kinda great actually.

Ez is a champ I used to love to hate, but he grew on me because once you get past his arrogant showboating e-boy wannabe shonen protagonist energy (and boy is it a lot) the fact that his entire ... the above thing is a masquerade for a lonely young man who blames himself for being abandoned by his parents is....wow ouch.

His backstory…oof, give that boy a hug. IDC what Christian Linke says, he would be fine in an Arcane-like show if you leaned into his bravado being a mask for loss.

I know we all rag on his crush on Lux, it's basically a running joke at this point but it's also an interesting bit of characterization…like the rest of his cocky adventurer persona it's completely superficial, he doesn't know anything about her except that she's blonde and pretty, and she doesn't know who he is.

And ofc they can't really work as a romance because Lux has SO MUCH GOING ON that has nothing to do with Ezreal, and her story is firmly grounded in Demacia, her family, and the plight of the Demacian mages, while Ezreal's story is all about his globetrotting adventures, his tomb raiding, his search for his parents.

If he stays with her, his story ends, if she goes with him, her story ends. They could in theory be a cute Disney protagonist romance, but the incompatibility of their storylines and the way Riot has spent probably over a decade now playing his feelings for laughs as a cringe, nigh-stalkery crush and her complete disinterest doesn't bode well for any kind of actual relationship coming of it.

It's not an evilbadtoxic ship by any means, it's just, imo, a bit of a nothingburger without enough actual connection or chemistry to make it worth sacrificing both characters for 'the ship'.

So the crush is funny (and Jarro Lightfeather is hysterical) but a critical part of an Ezreal character arc would be getting over it and moving on, imo. You don't give a guy a shallow stalker crush and then reward him with 'getting the girl' and call it character development, it's only character development if he doesn't.

Ez is at his most interesting when you can see the glimmers of him getting over himself and being the genuine hero he could be. (turning back to help Kai'Sa in Warriors is a good example).

I could really, really enjoy an Ezreal show where he ends up in a fun little D&D party with Kai'Sa and Taliyah running around Shurima exploring ancient ruins and battling Void horrors. I would LIVE for the comedic value of Ezreal being the most annoying showboaty jackass he possibly could be ("Ha ha! It's ALL skill") trying to impress the intimidatingly baddass Kai'Sa, whilst she's just so deadpan Raised By Wolves socially awkward killing-machine-trying-to-reconnect-to-humanity that she just takes him completely in stride.

Ez getting increasingly ridiculous in his antics and just completely failing to either impress OR annoy Kai'Sa would be just comedy gold, imo. Alternatively, getting back into the 'canon bi route' and my Ezko agenda, he he, Ezreal and Ekko actually make a really interesting pairing in the main timeline because

They've got a LITTLE bit of that oil-and-water energy with Ezreal being a Piltie, but he's an adventurous, inquisitive Piltie who isn't afraid to get his hands dirty, so Ekko would appreciate that even as he was giving the guy MASSIVE sideeye for all the cultural theft.

Ezreal would annoy the shit out of Ekko, since he's such a damn poser and Ekko is such a genuine, grounded guy.

They're both very, very intelligent, though, and they're both big fat nerds. Ekko is much more on the genius tinkerer and inventor science nerd end and Ezreal much more on the lore, culture, history nerd end, but they are both big nerds.

I think Ezreal would be just in awe of Ekko from the moment they met. 'This guy is so f'cking COOL how do i get him to think I'm COOL' and then drive Ekko up the wall overcompensating trying to get his attention/approval but coming off as being hypercompetitive and showboaty.

But if Ekko (especially League Ekko, whose parents are such a big part of his story) gets a whiff of Ezreal's past and his parents, he's going to start seeing through Ez's masquerade very quick, and if there's one thing Ekko is, it's a compassionate person, a carer, who just wants to help.

The boys could bond over shared adventurers plumbing the depths of Zaun for some secret mystery hidden in the ruins of Oshra Va'Zaun that could potentially be a threat to Zaun or the Firelights, and that Ezreal has an archaeologist's interest in.

You get all the back-and-forth dynamic, conflict, bickering, and slow burn affection that make Ezko a fantastic ship.

I might just write this.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hello! This is my first time actually requesting anything so please bear with me ;-;

I would like to request a 5th lord! Reader x Donna, reader is also pretty shy and reclusive, spending most of her time hunting with her mutated hounds or quietly managing her villagers' troubles, but can be assertive and outspoken if needed, even standing up to mother Miranda if she feels she's being unfair with the others, though she'd much rather chill with her dogs or do paperwork and let others do the talking.

Reader and Donna are both on good terms with both of them managing to work up the courage to go hang out at the other's manors from time to time. It doesn't take long for their "good terms" to start evolving into something more romantic but both of them are dancing around confessing their feelings, scared that doing so might destroy the friendship they've worked so hard to built...

It takes a little encouragement from Alcina (and maybe a little teasing about how she "can stare mother Miranda down but now look Donna in the eye") but Reader manages to get over her fear and confess, much to Donna's relief and joy.

Yesss!!!!! This is your 1st time requesting? Welcome then :D!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

The fifth one

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! 5th Lord (more or less)! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word count: 7,943

Summary: You're the fifth, but don't want to, you just want to love her...

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

You rolled your eyes at the commotion that was beginning to form in the old cathedral.

“Please, that chandelier over there is much more elegant than you,” one of the attendees at that meeting muttered, Alcina Dimitrescu who, was arguing with her brother, Karl Heisenberg.

“How unoriginal,” her brother said, with a cocky smile that slowly turned to you.

You shook your head, crossing your arms and looking away.

“Your presence clouds my ideas...” Alcina said, with a mocking smile.

“Relax, that's altitude sickness,” he said, arching his eyebrows.

“Who's next? Come on, come on, round of insults!” the sinister Angie doll shrieked, making you cover your ears.

“Oh, Gods…” the priestess who had won the favor of the Black Gods, Mother Miranda, murmured. “Silence!”

“He started it”

“She started it”

Both Lords protested in a childish manner, giving each other glances that, you were sure, had formed a barrier that, if you crossed it, you would burn without remedy.

“Well, now that you've finally shut your mouths, we can begin,” Miranda said, turning her head towards you, probably watching to make sure you were paying attention.

You were always the focus of her gaze, probably because that evil raven woman still didn't trust you.

Every time you attended, a sermon, or had to meet with the others for any boring matter, you wondered why you were there. Those people were descendants of the founders of the village, they were blessed by the Black Gods, you were not. You were quite different.

You were born without noble blood, without a great mansion or power.

Always introverted but with a tremendous desire to explore, you spent your childhood being not much more than the butcher, the blacksmith or the family of weavers. Your family, humble but well-off, was in charge of supplying the villagers with firewood or coal, raw materials that were still needed in that place.

It was an important job, but not a relevant one.

You were orphaned at an early age, left completely alone in that sinister house in the mountains. Loneliness was not a problem for you. You were never exactly a talkative or communicative girl.

But that introverted character clashed with your adventurous spirit, with the desire to know more about that strange cult, to know why the Black Gods only existed in that place.

That daring to find out the different reasons that led Mother Miranda to name herself a priestess seemed worth discovering.

In one of your explorations you got too brave. You watched the witch work in the laboratory, you tried to read the labels of those strange bottles.

You fell in front of the blonde with a resounding sound. You already thought that your life had come to an end. But apparently, Mother Miranda didn't see a sudden interest in ending the life of that stupid snooper, rather she saw you as a unique opportunity to continue investigating.

She didn't care about your screams or your struggles, she took what she wanted, experimenting on you, putting into your body what she herself said it was: the gift of the Gods.

Miranda was probably even more surprised when, after a time that you were still unable to determine, you opened your eyes.

You, who already believed that you would die, resurrected on that dirty stretcher to the surprise and pleasure of the golden witch.

You were still you, but somehow, you were no longer the same. The smells, the sounds... Everything entered your body in an almost overwhelming way. It was as if you had suddenly woken up, as if something had made your senses sharpen.

Of course, you were glad to still be alive, but you were scared.

Your weak body became a weapon. Your strength was no longer that of a simple villager. You had been reborn with the gift of the superhuman and you couldn’t complain.

You were a partial success, one of the few who survived the graft, a miracle. Your strength, your senses, everything had improved substantially but... The strangest thing of all was when you discovered what exactly you could do.

The lycans, those unfortunate villagers who weren't as lucky as you were, came after you in the middle of Miranda's tests. You were never a fighter, of course, even with your new strength, you were scared.

But the miracle happened again.

Apparently, Miranda noticed something that you didn't. Those drooling beasts didn't attack you, they didn't bother wasting time tearing your skin or devouring you. To them you were like something untouchable. You thought it was because of the parasite but once again Miranda told you it wasn't.

Complete control over the village beasts, that was your true new ability. A very useful ability, indeed, at least for that horrible woman.

Miranda's confidence was even more fleeting and cloudy than the Black Gods themselves. Her amazement also hid some fear. You were certainly strong. You could make all the monsters destroy the village with a snap of your fingers.

According to the witch, your status as an ordinary villager placed you in a strange limbo. Neither a Lord, nor a villager, simply, (Y/N). Power was something you didn’t want, but you couldn’t longer avoid it.

You became something like the fifth Lord. The meetings, the sermons... Everything required your presence as well as that of the rest of the noble families. So… Well, Lord or not, you were part of it.

You didn't have a coat of arms, you didn't have a noble background, but you sat next to them. The only thing that relieved you was that those monsters weren't your new siblings. That was the only difference between them and you, for everything else, to the villagers, the number five was always present when they saw you.

Hunting, doing paperwork, answering calls and requests from the villagers… That was your routine. Yes, you preferred solitude, the comfort of your cozy cabin in the woods but… Well, you couldn't complain, it wasn't that bad.

Luck or caution, those two words sailed through your thoughts from time to time. You wondered if Miranda granted you those privileges just because you survived or, on the contrary, she preferred to have you on her side instead of having you against her.

In the meetings, together with the rest of the Lords, you thought about it, you thought about how strong Miranda would be if you and all her children rebelled against her. If you don't feed a beast, it ends up devouring you.

“The Petrescu family have decided not to make the monthly offering to the Gods, let's see, come on, ideas...” Miranda said, moving her arms.

“If I remember correctly, they have a daughter, right?” Alcina intervened, immediately returning you to that boring meeting.

“Mm, it seems so,” Miranda commented, listlessly, nodding towards the lady of the castle.

“She will serve in my castle as payment,” the lady in white said.

It gave you a shiver.

“Oh, sure, of course,” Karl said, interrupting his sister, as always. “I'm sure she's dying to serve you.”

“Their eldest son is strong, he'll be a good experiment,” the deformed Moreau commented.

“No, no way,” you intervened, shaking your head. “I'm the one who has to take care of your experiments.”

“You should have a nursery!” the doll Angie said, laughing sinisterly.

You smiled and nodded, arching your eyebrows.

“Yes, good idea,” you said amused.

“Not again…” Miranda sighed, running her hand over her mask, with a threatening tone.

Well, you couldn't blame her for being fed up with these meetings, you were too.

“Let's see, what punishment do they deserve? One by one,” the witch hissed through her teeth, thus avoiding another uproar. “Let's see, (Y/N), let's start with you.”

“Mm,” you murmured thoughtfully. “I don't think they deserve punishment, Mother Miranda,” you said after a few seconds of meditation, causing all those sinister gazes to turn towards you.

“No?” the witch asked, in a low tone.

“No,” you said firmly. “The Petrescu family has had plagues in their crops and that's why they haven't been able to make the offering to the Gods.”

“But it is my will, (Y/N),” the priestess protested, getting a little closer to you. You didn't feel intimidated, not in the least.

“Yes, and it is also our duty to take care of the villagers but someone…” you explained, pointing timidly at Heisenberg. “Someone preferred to steal the entire shipment of special insecticide, so they were unable to control the plague.”

“Oh, are you implying that it was me?” the Lord asked, pointing at himself. “How bold.”

“I'm not implying anything, Karl,” you said amused.

“Well, there are some very large flies in the castle, I needed that shipment,” he murmured amused, making the lady in white growl.

“Stupid bastard,” Dimitrescu growled, clenching her fists.

“Silence… Silence…” Miranda hissed, visibly tired. “Then, (Y/N), according to you I should forgive them for their lack of faith.”

“Well,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Punishing them for something we have not been able to remedy would be unfair.”

“You say I am unfair then,” the witch murmured, with a dangerous tone.

“In this case yes, you are, Mother Miranda,” you said without any fear.

Miranda stepped back, laughing sinisterly.

“Okay… I will forgive them,” she said, but lowering her tone as she looked at you again. “For now… Go away, the meeting is over.”

You all stood up silently and you sighed in relief, you could finally go home.

“Hey, you, newbie,” Karl said, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You have guts, huh? No one faces the witch without paying for it.”

“I believe in justice,” you murmured, feeling the cold of your skin as you left the cathedral. The Lord laughed amused, patting your back unpleasantly.

“How considerate…” he whispered. “Hey, come to my factory, there are some beers waiting for you.”

“Bah, not today, I have work to do,” you said, shaking your head.

Saying goodbye to your companions, you walked towards the last of them, towards the lady in black, who seemed to be waiting for you too. After all, her old estate was on the way to your cabin.

Lady Beneviento was a mysterious woman. Always silent, covered by that black veil… She was certainly the most interesting of the Lords.

Donna Beneviento was something like a silent friend. Everyone in the village feared her, but not you. Sick, psychopathic, deformed… You had heard so many things about this woman that you weren't sure if you believed them. In any case, she never showed any of that, in fact, you could say that in your silence there was something like a shy friendship.

You weren't a woman of many words. You enjoyed solitude just like she did. Maybe that's why you got along well.

Silence was the best of conversations, those discreet glances into your eyes, that shy laugh when you played with Angie to chain words together. Yes, you felt very comfortable with her, maybe too much.

But, even though you were shy, lately you tried to get some words out of that black veil, you were quite determined to hear her hoarse voice and not the usual squeals of the doll.

“So… How are your dolls?” you asked, walking slowly, making the lady turn around startled. It wasn’t common for you to break the silence without Angie around.

“Fine,” Donna whispered, with that hoarse voice, raspy from lack of use. Her voice was like a breeze, like a current of air that you couldn't see but you could feel.

“Great,” you murmured, lowering your head.

“How are your… Monsters?” she asked after a few awkward seconds in which you thought that talking to her was a bad idea.

“They’re fine,” you said the same way, nodding confidently.

“Monsters!” Angie repeated, breaking the calm of that little walk.

“Yes…” you sighed amused, winking at the doll, who laughed sinisterly. “Hey, Donna, what do you think of the Petrescu thing?” you asked the lady in black, having the strange need to talk.

“Cosa?” she asked, with an even softer voice, slowing down her steps to stand beside you, walking at the same pace as you.

“You know... That whole harvest thing,” you said timidly. “I honestly find it incredible that Miranda blames those poor villagers when she's supposed to be taking care of them.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured with disinterest, looking away. “You're taking too many risks.”

“Why do you say so? I say what I think,” you said, shaking your head.

“That's why you take the risk,” she commented, walking faster, reaching the wooden bridge that separated your world from hers. “Sometimes it's better to not say anything.”

“Oh, of course, that's your strategy, isn't it? I thought you were just a quiet woman,” you said amused, leaning on some rocks.

A soft laugh came from the lady in black, who also stopped.

“I am,” she whispered, moving the impatient Angie in her arms.

“I see…” you murmured, looking away embarrassedly. “I don’t know, maybe I’m too stupid.”

“Stupid for having a sense of justice?” she asked in a slightly clearer voice.

You shrugged exaggeratedly, spreading your arms.

“Maybe…” you sighed, looking at the cloudy sky. “Well, I guess we’ll see each other.”

“Yes, we’ll see each other,” the lady said passively, sighing uncomfortably.

“See you later,” you said, waving goodbye and jumping towards the mountain, a very big one.

“See you later, silly!” Angie shrieked, waving her arms in farewell, something you already saw from the top of the mountain.

“Hey, Angie, remember that you owe me 500 lei!” you shouted amused.

“That's a lie!” the doll protested. “Liar!”

“Next time try not to lose! You know that I am unbeatable in chess!” you said amused, earning a sinister laugh from the puppet, who said goodbye to you while the lady resumed her path.

You walked a little further through the forest until you reached your cabin, where some anxious barking alerted you.

“Oh, wait!” you shouted as your two favorite beasts launched themselves at you, covering you with licks. “Hey, okay, yeah, I missed you, guys!” you shouted amused, pushing the mutated dogs away from you. “Come on, it's time to eat.”

Routine fell upon you after that little interruption. Certainly, meetings weren't your favorite pastime, but after doing the same thing day after day, they were a relief.

Paperwork, calls from villagers begging you for some firewood, the occasional business with the Duke... It was all boring, but at the same time reassuring. Hunting with your dogs was the most fun thing you did, but even that became a tedious routine.

But, for some time now, a new hobby forced you to leave the safety of your cabin and look over the cliff.

Just below that great height, the Beneviento House stood, that strange place sheltered by a waterfall. At first you didn't give importance to the closeness you had with the lady in black, but... Little by little, that friendship grew, forcing you to keep an eye on her without wanting to.

Donna was like you, she didn't usually leave her house but, when she did, your heart started to beat strongly. A strange but interesting woman, that's what she was to you, apart from being a friend in a world of shadows. At least you liked to think that way.

Surely for her you were just a companion.

Lying in the snow, one that had long since stopped being cold for you, you observed the mansion, wondering what that woman was doing at that moment, if she would go out to take care of her flowers or it would be another boring day in which you couldn't see her.

“Mm,” you murmured, getting up, disappointed. “Today is not the day to go out, huh?” you said amused.

The sound of nearby axe blows brought you out of the comfort of your solitude, of your routine. The lycans always did the hard work, always cut down the trees to give you that precious firewood. Yes, you could truly feel privileged although those beasts... They weren't exactly intelligent.

“Hey!” you shouted, walking quickly towards that group of lycans who were cutting down one of the nearby trees. “I thought I told you to go to the western forest.”

The grunts were their response while they shrugged their shoulders comically.

“West, do you hear me?” you repeated indignantly, stamping the ground. “Oh, damn it. Give me that,” you said while taking the axe from one of them. “Go over there, and get a bigger axe.”

Taking another of your tools and giving it to the lycan, you order them to leave, something they obeyed, luckily.

“Great…” you muttered annoyed, running a hand through that half-felled tree. “Stupid lycans…”

Shaking your head, you put the axe on your shoulder, ready to return to the comfort of paperwork or the fun of hunting, you were still not sure. A strange creaking sound stopped your steps and you turned around trembling.

That tree seemed to lean dangerously, which made you open your eyes in fear.

“Oh, no, no, no, no…” you lamented, running towards it as fast as you could. You didn't get there in time.

The tree split and the larger half fell down the cliff. You could only touch it with your fingers before it disappeared into the abyss with a thunderous sound of breaking glass.

“Shit…” you sighed, closing your eyes tightly. That definitely hadn't sounded good at all.

Slowly, clearing your throat, you looked over the cliff. If that tree had fallen into the river it would have been a relief, but it didn't.

Below the slope, that tree rested on the roof of the Beneviento mansion, with its top stuck in one of the windows.

“Okay… Damn it,” you said through your teeth, running a hand over your forehead. “Damn it…”

“Hey!” a sharp scream made you look down again.

Donna and Angie had come out of the house, surely alerted by the noise. You tried to hide from them, but you weren't fast enough.

“Hey, you, I saw you!” the doll snapped at you, forcing you to look out again. “What do you think you're doing?! Do you want to kill us!?”

“Oh, um… I'm sorry!” you cried out embarrassed, biting your lip. Both lady and doll looked at you intensely.

“You're sorry?! Get down here and face me!” Angie demanded.

You had no choice but to obey, taking a big leap to go down to the grounds of the mansion. You landed next to Donna, looking at her briefly and then observing the mess the tree had caused.

“H-Hi…” you sighed nervously, with a shy smile. “Um, I can, I can explain it.”

“There's a tree going through the attic of my house, what do you have to explain?” the lady in black asked, with that usual hoarse tone.

You laughed amused by what you thought was a joke and scratched the back of your neck, looking at the tree and shaking your head.

“It was an accident,” ​​you said with a shaky voice. “It, it wasn't my fault.”

Angie and Donna looked at each other and, after a few seconds, lowered their heads towards the axe you were still holding, looking back at you shortly after.

“Oh, no, it's not what it seems,” you said nervously, hiding the tool behind your back.

“We caught you with the weapon, silly, anything to say in your defense?” Angie said, crossing her arms, held by her owner.

“Okay, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said, with your best good girl face. “It wasn't me, the lycans are getting stupider every day and they started cutting down a tree they shouldn't have and…” you stammered.

“Your apologies aren't going to solve the problem,” Donna whispered, lowering the doll to the ground.

“Yeah, I know but…” you said nervously, avoiding looking at the mess. “Don't worry, I'll call, I'll call the lycans to get it out of there. In the meantime, as compensation… I don't know, maybe, maybe you'd like to have some tea at my place.”

“Is that compensation?” the puppet mocked, shaking her head. “No, silly, we want a million lei.”

“What? A million?” you asked, mouth agape.

“Don't pay attention to her,” Donna murmured, walking away from you. “The tea will be enough.”

“Oh, okay…” you said blinking in confusion. You didn't think it was going to be that easy.

“What are you saying, silly Donna? Have you become…?” Angie said, tugging at her owner's dress. The lady looked at her firmly, making her shut up immediately.

Intimidation or control? You weren't sure.

The walk to your cabin was tense. After you called the lycans and they went up to the roof, you started to think about why you had offered the lady in black some tea. She certainly didn't seem displeased with the offer, but you found that something so stupid was enough for Donna strange. After all, you had impaled her house on a tree.

The lady in black gasped as your dogs roared at her presence. You couldn't be surprised by it. It was very strange to have visitors.

“Relax, they're harmless,” you said with a nervous smile, opening the door to your cabin. “That's Pinky, and that's Winky”

“Pinky and Winky? What kind of stupid names are those?”  the doll said, watching the animals with curiosity. They calmed down due to your caresses.

“Well, the ones I gave them,” you said proudly, stroking the head of one of them, causing it to lick your hand.

“Can I play with them?” the Angie doll asked, approaching cautiously. “Can I, Donna, can I?”

“I don't know,” the lady in black whispered, looking suspiciously at the hounds. “(Y/N), they won't hurt Angie, right?”

“No, I don't think so,” you said unsurely, watching the doll's timid interactions with the animals. “She'll be fine.”

“Aren't you going to invite me in?” the lady asked after a few silent moments watching Angie, who had already mounted one of the beasts.

“Oh, sure, come in,” you said, coming out of that daydream.

Donna entered slowly, observing every detail of your small but luxurious cabin.

“Mm,” she murmured, sitting on one of your sofas in a disinterested manner.

“It's not much but well, it's a home,” you commented, confused by the attitude of the woman in black, the passive and timid attitude as always. “Black tea?”

She nodded slightly and you did the same, nervously preparing the tea. Silence was once again your only companion. You couldn't say you were scared, but you were somewhat intimidated by her presence. You knew what she was capable of. You knew she wasn't right in the head. Maybe she had set you up to make you suffer for your mistake.

“Ahem, here you go,” you said nervously, sitting in front of her and showing a jar. “Do you want sugar?”

“No,” she answered dryly, taking the cup and bringing it to her lips, slightly moving her veil aside.

You couldn't help but notice her features, something that made her stop, replacing the black cloth.

“It's rude to stare at someone,” she murmured annoyed.

“I'm sorry,” you said nervously, looking away so she could drink calmly.

“What are you sorry about? About shamelessly staring at me or impaling my house on a tree?” Donna asked in a dark, hoarse tone, with a marked accent.

“Oh, the tree thing and... Well, the other thing too and... I'd better, I'd better keep quiet,” you said, hiding your embarrassment behind your cup of tea.

“Mm,” she murmured again with disinterest, leaving her cup on the table and resting her hands on her lap in an elegant and shy way. Surely she must have been uncomfortable, just like you.

The tension could easily be cut. Silence stopped being your ally and became your worst enemy. To talk or not to talk, that was the question.

Luckily, it was the lady in black who seemed interested in starting a conversation.

“What are you doing here all day?” the doll maker asked, barely moving.

“Nothing special, I don't spend much time in here, to tell the truth,” you said, clearing your throat, relieved by the disappearance of silence. “I don't like being locked up.”

“I see. You are like one of your beasts then,” she commented, tilting her head slightly.

You raised your eyebrows, not quite knowing how to respond to that statement.

“If by that you mean that I like the outdoors...” you murmured amused, with a calm smile.

“No, I say it because of how ugly you are,” she said abruptly, leaving you completely disoriented, speechless.

“Hey...” you protested at that gratuitous and unexpected insult.

“It was a joke,” she said, seeing your incipient annoyance.

You blinked confused, shaking your head and drinking again to relieve the trembling of your body.

“Forgive me, I'm not very good at it,” Donna said in a softer tone, laughing shyly. “I've never known how to joke.”

“A joke, of course,” you said calmer but tense, with your heart beating strongly in your chest. “Relax, I'm not good with people either.”

“It doesn't seem like it,” she said distractedly, shifting uncomfortably on the wooden sofa. “You get along very well with my siblings.”

“You think so? No, not at all, we just tolerate each other,” you explained in a relaxed tone, waving your hand to make light of it. “I usually go out with Heisenberg to have beers from time to time but the truth is that I prefer solitude.”

“Heisenberg,” the lady repeated, with a mysteriously dark tone. ���Do you like spending time with him?”

You shrugged, not giving importance to those innocent questions.

“Yes, well, I'm still a human being, or so I think... You know, we're social animals and...” you said, leaning back in the chair, realizing what that question really meant. “Oh, if you mean... No, no, no, no,” you quickly denied. “It's not what you're thinking.”

“What am I thinking?” she asked, with a somewhat more casual tone, letting you sense a smile behind that black veil.

“I don't know, what are you thinking?” you asked back, shy but somehow confident.

“I'm just saying that you get along with my brother, I wasn't implying anything,” Donna said, with a slightly more serious tone, annoyed for some reason.

“Okay…” you sighed confused.

It was the first time you talked for so long with the woman in black and that started to take its toll on you, making you more and more nervous.

“I get along with you too,” you whispered almost without meaning to.

“Oh, really?” she asked with a mocking tone. “What makes you think that way?”

“Well…” you murmured, regretting your words. “At least you talk to me, they say that's a miraculous.”

“What's miraculous? Someone talking to you?” she asked, curious, reaching out her hand again for the cup of tea, indicating that you should look away again.

“No, you talking to someone,” you said in a small voice, lowering your head while the lady put the tea back in its place.

“Mm,” Donna murmured with disinterest, maintaining that tense and defensive pose, not paying attention to your words, or at least, not showing it. “What else are they saying out there?”

“Huh?” you asked confused, startled. “Oh, nothing bad, just, just that...”

“Bugiarda,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Excuse me?” you asked, getting closer in case you had misunderstood her.

“I say you are a liar,” she repeated, clenching her fists discreetly. “I know perfectly well what they say about me.”

“Oh, okay, but, but you asked me…” you stammered, the awkwardness tensing the atmosphere even more.

Lady Beneviento shrugged with a sigh.

“I was just curious, you're a very strange girl,” she whispered curiously, tilting her head again.

“Likewise,” you said laughing, joking unintentionally. You were too clumsy for social relations, you should know it. “I mean…”

A tender laugh came out of the veil again, a sweet laugh that didn't express that previous coldness. Your heart was restless, but your face made things easier for you, making you smile back.

“Sei divertente…” the lady whispered among laughs.

“Thank you, I guess…” you joked, raising your cup of tea in gratitude, drinking the remaining liquid.

“So you and me get along…” Donna said, after a moment of calm.

“Mm?” you asked confused, crossing your arms. You could no longer hide behind the empty cup.

“You said that before, you say that we get along,” the lady repeated, with a more impatient tone, as if she was annoyed at having to repeat things.

“You're at my house drinking tea so... It seems so,” you said amused, arching your eyebrows.

“How curious, I thought we were here because you’ve destroyed my house,” she said, crossing her arms, finally changing that stoic pose.

“Oh yeah, shit…” you sighed embarrassed again remembering the accident from a while ago.

“Don't talk like that, (Y/N), you're a Lord,” Donna reprimanded you with a stern voice.

“Can't a Lord say shit?” you asked amused, relaxing in the armchair.

“You shouldn't,” the lady said with a dry voice, shaking her head.

“Besides, I'm not a Lord,” you said after a few moments.

“No? So what are you?” she asked in a low, hoarse tone, more like her usual one.

“I don't know,” you answered with a slightly nostalgic sigh. You had never seriously considered that question. “(Y/N)”

“(Y/N)…” the doll maker murmured, in a somber tone. “Lady (Y/N)?”

“Just (Y/N)” you repeated, with a knowing smile, accidentally winking.

“Mm,” she murmured, finishing her tea and letting silence fall over your shoulders again.

“I don't think they'll take long,” you said, unable to find a suitable topic of conversation in your mind, one that wouldn't lead to awkward statements or questions from the lady in black.

“Are you nervous?” she asked, looking at the subtle trembling of your hands.

“No,” you said, putting on a serious expression.

“I’m making you nervous,” she said next, stating, not asking.

“No, no, no, no, I mean…” you stammered. “It's not that I'm nervous because I accidentally destroyed your house and I'm afraid you're going to give me nightmares or something like that,” you said, with a tone totally different from the one you wanted to express.

“If I had wanted you dead, you would already be,” Donna hissed in a sinister voice, one that made a shiver run through your body.

“It was, it was a joke,” you said timidly, scratching the back of your neck.

“I see you are not good at joking either,” she said, with a calmer tone, she even seemed to laugh.

“Not at all,” you said with a fearful smile.

“Hey, get away, you disgusting slime!” Angie's squeals alerted you. “Hey!”

You stood up with the lady, walking towards the door, where a group of lycans waited patiently, curious about the doll.

“Donna, Donna!” the puppet shrieked, running into the arms of her owner. “You, tell them to stop harassing me!”

“Hey, you, stay still,” you ordered the beasts, which continued to surround you in a sinister manner.

The lycans growled, but obeyed.

“Are you done?” you asked in a stern tone, crossing your arms. The strongest-looking one nodded in satisfaction. “Great...”

“There’s no more tree?” Angie asked curiously. You moved your head triumphantly.

“Mm, oh, and don’t worry about the window, the village glazier owes me a favor,” you said pleasantly, with an apologetic look. The growls of those beasts were uncomfortable and made you turn to them. “What are you looking at? Go away, go away…”

The pack of beasts scattered, accidentally hitting the lady in black, who fell to the ground with a gasp.

“Oh, shit, Donna…” you said nervously, helping the lady up. “Hey, be more careful! Shit, sorry, sorry…”

The lady groaned, helped by you and Angie, brushing the snow off her dress.

You were speechless. The black veil covering her face had moved enough for you to see her. She was… She was simply a beautiful woman, really beautiful. The deformity of her face was not an impediment for you to be dazzled. Of course she noticed, opening her one eye wide.

“W-Wait…” you sighed, reaching out your hand to the veil and awkwardly placing it. “There you go.”

“You are not scared,” she murmured, finishing to place the black cloth. You shook your head, with a strange smile.

“No, not at all, you are… You have nothing to do with what they say out there,” you commented unintentionally, nervous because of that beautiful face, one that made your heart race. “You are such a beautiful woman. I don't know why you're covering yourself”

Donna didn't answer. She just looked at you strangely, shaking her head.

“You're really bad at jokes, (Y/N)” she whispered in a surprisingly calm tone. “But thanks for trying.”

“I'm telling the truth,” you said, frowning as the lady walked away with a slow step, picking up her doll again. “Hey, Donna!” you shouted, getting her attention. “I liked having tea with you.”

“Of course, you say we get along, right?” she said, laughing shyly, still walking.

It wasn't the last time you two got together.

From the day you destroyed her house, the visits started to become more and more frequent. They were always absurd talks about topics that weren't important. In your house, in hers, the place didn't matter.

Your mind began to unravel why a part of you seemed addicted to looking over the cliff, to see if the lady would leave her house. She was beautiful… Really beautiful, a wounded woman with a tormented soul who was terribly attractive to you. The veil disappeared over time, at every tea, at every visit she was closer and you were closer.

It was hard for you to recognize it but… Soon friendship was no longer enough, soon your lips sighed as you walked away from that house, as you watched her leave yours. You were attracted to her, you liked her, Donna was perfect for you but at the same time she was something impossible to have and you should accept it before falling into the clutches of an unhealthy crush.

“That was the last time I skied with my dogs,” you said one quiet night, one in which the tea went on so long that the stars shone in the sky.

The fireplace in the Beneviento house crackled, giving your body a different, strange warmth. Maybe it was just having Donna next to you, with her legs up on the couch, listening to your stupid adventures for hours.

The lady in black laughed, changing her teacup for a glass of wine, one she slowly brought to her lips as fire glowed in her eye, making you shiver.

“It wasn't a good idea,” she commented amused, leaving the glass on the table. “You could have hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, well, I'm resilient,” you joked, raising and lowering your eyebrows, settling yourself on that sofa.

“You say your life is boring, but it doesn't seem that way to me,” Donna said, looking at you distractedly, lowering her hand dangerously close to yours.

“Most of the time it's boring, I only tell you the best parts,” you said, drinking your glass of wine, briefly looking at your hands.

“Would you have liked not to be a Lord?” she asked, with a sadder look, without looking at you.

“I'm not a Lord,” you said amused, relaxing your smile when you saw her serious face. “But, what do you mean?”

“You know, I'm wondering if you would have preferred a normal, ordinary life,” the doll maker whispered, looking at you again, curious.

You shrugged, finishing your wine.

“I don't know,” you sighed wistfully, looking at the fireplace. “I guess my life would keep being boring.”

“Mm,” she murmured, resting her head on the couch, as if she was waiting for a longer answer.

“Well, let's see, it has its good points,” you said in a more casual tone.

“Like what?” the lady asked.

“To have met you,” you murmured involuntarily, noticing how your cheeks were heating up with blush.

“You... Are you glad you met me?” Donna asked, leaning towards you.

“Yes, Donna, you are a wonderful woman,” you said, faking a friendly smile, lightly hitting her hand, one that grabbed yours without wanting to, putting your heart on alert.

“I, I'm glad I met you too,” she sighed, watching how your hands played on their own, getting to know each other, caressing each other involuntarily. “I... I...”

“Hey, it's too late, fools!” Angie interrupted, just when your bodies began to walk the path that separated them. You stepped back, keeping your gaze on the lady, who did the same, with a serious expression, as if she had regretted her movements.

“Angie…” Donna sighed, also annoyed by the doll's boldness.

You wondered what would have happened if the puppet hadn't appeared, what your lips would have done.

“S-she's right, um… There's a meeting tomorrow and we should rest,” you said nervously, getting up from the couch.

“Yes, I…” she said, nodding but unable to take her eye off yours and nervous just like you. “We, we'll see each other tomorrow.”

“Yes…” you sighed with a weak smile, taking your hands away from each other at the same time. Unintentionally, they had remained together. “Donna, I…”

“Yes?” she asked, perhaps too quickly.

You opened your mouth but couldn't say what you wanted, something prevented you.

“Nothing, um… Have a good night,” you said timidly, moving away from her.

“(Y/N), wait, I have, I have to tell you something,” the lady said, gently grabbing your wrist.

“Yes?” you said the same way, with almost pleading eyes.

She imitated your gesture, opening her mouth and not saying anything. If it weren't in those circumstances it could have been somewhat comical.

“I... T-thank you for, for having dinner with me,” she finally said. “I hope you rest.”

You nodded disappointedly, walking towards the exit.

Cowardice, that was the only word on your mind. You wanted to tell her many things, you wanted to tell the doll maker that you would like to spend more time with her, that every second by her side was wonderful, but you couldn't do it.

Cowardly, yes, but also worried, your head was spinning from that crush that you couldn't deny. Maybe Donna was just excited to have someone after so much time alone, it could be that the lady in black was just a friend, and nothing else.

If so, any advance on your part would be a hammer, a saw, a cutting element that would irreparably break your friendship.

You didn't want that, you didn't want to lose her for confusing your feelings, for misinterpreting hers.

The next day you opened your eyes routinely. You had barely rested, thinking about everything that was happening around Lady Beneviento, everything you lived with her every day. Staying calm and strengthening the friendship was your priority, no matter how many times your heart reminded you of what you really felt for her.

“Welcome, my children...” Miranda said, while you all sat down in your seats and you smiled at the lady in black, who made a gesture to greet you, indicating that you should sit next to her. “(Y/N)...” the priestess murmured, showing that subtle contempt she felt for you, who were not part of her family but were not a villager either.

“Hey there…” you said haughtily, earning a strange look from the lady in black.

The witch smiled sinisterly, moving away from you to begin her usual speech.

These meetings stopped being boring a long time ago.

While Miranda spoke you made mocking gestures so Donna looked at you, rolling your eyes, nodding ironically... Anything that would grant you the perfect gift of her soft laugh under her veil.

“Hey, Donna, how do you say boring in Italian?” you whispered, getting a little closer to her chair. She looked at you, moving Angie so she was comically leaning in your ear.

“Noioso,” Angie whispered, to which you nodded gratefully.

“Mm,” you murmured amused. “I suppose it will be useful for the next meeting.”

Donna shook her head, sighing amused.

“So… Boring witch would be something like... Strega noiosa?” you asked, getting a little closer to the lady's ear.

“Yes, more or less,” the lady whispered, in a tone that only you could hear. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I like to know what I'm looking at,” you said, pointing at Miranda with your head.

Donna laughed nervously, unable to be discreet, attracting the attention of the priestess, who immediately fell silent.

“Donna, I can't believe it,” Miranda sighed, crossing her arms. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing, Mother Miranda,” the lady murmured, holding back her laughter.

You looked away, meeting the eyes of the lady of the castle, who was looking at you with a frown, you didn't know for how long.

“Oh, okay, go away, out...” Miranda said, tired, gesturing with her hand.

Luckily, you were spared that reprimand.

“I'll kill you, (Y/N),” Donna whispered as you walked back home. “I swear I'll kill you.”

“Hey, I didn't do anything,” you joked. “I'm just trying to pass the time.”

“I'm sure you did,” the lady said, walking slowly beside you. “Oh, I'm almost done with the doll you ordered.”

“Wow, that's fast,” you said satisfied, walking slower and slower, enjoying that little moment of company.

“Well, the hounds were difficult to make” she commented, disinterested.

“Oh, shit, I mean, jeez…” you joked, scratching the back of your neck. “Now that you mention it… I should go buy them some meat.”

“Are you coming this afternoon?” the ventriloquist asked, accidentally taking your hand, something that you, of course, didn't prevent. “I'd like… For us to have dinner together, like yesterday.”

“Sure, but I'll cook,” you said amused as your hands slowly separated.

Donna turned around, giving you one last look before disappearing into the forest.

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Ah, fuck!” you screamed when a hand rested on your shoulder. You turned around scared.

Alcina, Lady Dimitrescu, was behind you, with the same expression as at the meeting.

“Well, well…” she murmured in a sensual voice.

“Oh, hello, Alcina, I…” you stammered, still scared. “Do you need something? Have you run out of firewood?”

“No…”she sighed, changing her frown into a sinister smile. “Tell me, (Y/N), what exactly is going on between you and my sister?” she asked, making you blush again.

“What? I don't understand,” you said nervously, looking for an escape route with your gaze. There wasn't one.

“Please, I saw you at the meeting, you looked like two clingy teenagers,” she commented, rolling her eyes. “Come on, confess, what's going on?”

“We are, we are friends,” you said, with a sad smile.

“Donna has a friend…” Alcina sighed, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “Do you realize how stupid it sounds?”

“I don't know why you say that, she's a kind woman and… When, when you meet her it's… It's…”

“I know what she's like, dear,” the lady in white interrupted. “That's why I'm surprised that someone like you got that close to her.”

“We, we get along,” you said, nodding with a serious face, watching the lady in black walk away without looking back, luckily.

“Is that all?” Dimitrescu asked.

Let's see, she was over a hundred years old, she wasn't exactly stupid... It wouldn't be easy to fool her.

“Yes... Unfortunately,” you sighed, looking at the snow under your feet.

“Oh, see? That doesn't seem like a dirty lie anymore,” the lady in white joked. “So? What are you going to do?”

“What? Oh, nothing...” you said with a sad, timid voice, shaking your head. “I guess.”

“Mm...” Alcina murmured, running a huge hand over your shoulders. “It's funny... You, a Lord...”

“I'm not a... Bah, never mind,” you said, interrupting but regretting it later.

“How can it be? You face Mother Miranda and don't have the guts to tell Donna what you feel,” she said, with an inquisitive look.

She knew more about your feelings than you did. Would Donna have talked to her? It seemed unlikely.

“It seems easy, but it isn't,” you protested, crossing your arms.

“I think so, dear…” she sighed, lighting a cigarette. “Take some advice from me, (Y/N)… Tell her.”

“I can't do that, what if she doesn't feel the same?” you said nervously, less and less uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Please…” Alcina murmured, rolling her eyes again. “Stop fooling around and tell her how you feel. Donna doesn't take hints, understand? She needs really big signs to show her the way.”

You nodded, frowning.

“Hey, what do you care?” you asked curiously.

The lady in white shrugged her shoulders with a funnily sinister smile.

“Let's say that… I need some time without the castle phone ringing and disturbing me…”

“What?” you asked curiously. “Did Donna tell something to you?”

“I didn't say that, (Y/N)…” the vampire murmured, turning elegantly, leaving you stuck to the snow, blinking and breathing heavily. “What are you doing standing there? Run…”

You nodded, overcome by euphoria, turning around with a smile. Yes, Donna felt the same, there was no doubt. You didn't know why Alcina helped you, or what things Donna told her about you but… You had to tell her, tell her that your cabin wasn't warm enough if she wasn't with you, that… That you loved her…

You ran with all your might, jumping through the forest with the strength that love, or nerves, gave you.

You reached the clearing where little Claudia was resting and took one last big jump, avoiding the elevator.

As you fell you realized that you had terribly miscalculated and your body was quickly approaching the mansion hopelessly.

“Shit!” you shouted protecting yourself with your arms as you went through the newly repaired attic window, falling thunderously to the ground. “Ouch...”

You shook the glass off your body, checking that your wounds were healing on their own as usual.

“Hey!” Angie's shrieks reached your ears and you, timidly, looked out the broken window with an embarrassed smile.

“Hi...” you sighed timidly, moving your hand in greeting, looking at the lady who was watching you calmly.

“(Y/N)?” Donna asked, shaking her head.

“Silly! What's your problem with that window?” Angie asked as you jumped to the ground in a quick movement, landing in front of the lady.

“I'm sorry, I had to talk to you,” you said nervously as she removed a piece of glass from your dress, one that you couldn't shake off.

“I guess walking isn't your thing, right?” Donna commented, amused, not the slightest bit bothered by your accident.

“No, my favorite hobby is being with you,” you said quickly. She moved away, but not enough for your hands to not be able to reach her face. “D-Donna, I... I...”

Not finding words that could be useful, you decided push that horrible veil away from her face and capture her lips with yours, in a deep, sincere kiss that she immediately returned.

“I'm in love with you,” you whispered still on her lips, kissing her slowly, grabbing her waist as she did the same, smiling in relief.

“Really? Are you serious?” the lady asked, caressing your cheeks. “Me, me too…”

“Yes… I may not want to be a Lord but, but I want to be by your side, to be with you… I, I love you, Donna, I love you…”

“Lord or not, my heart is yours, (Y/N)… Yours forever…”

[goodnightandgo777]

It Might As Well Be Worth It For Once [h.c]

Summary: After a photo of you kissing your crush, Hazel Callahan, goes viral among students at your university, you try to navigate the backlash you receive on top of your newfound feelings for her.

Pairing: College!Hazel Callahan x College!fem!reader

Contains: reader sort of figuring out her sexuality, homophobia, explicit language, d slur, slut shaming, drinking, partying, violence, no explicit smut just heavy make-outs, scary ex-boyfriends, evil frat bros

word count: 3k

A/N: This is loosely inspired by Taylor Swift's song "Slut!" so listen if you want to set the mood!

Your first kiss with Hazel Callahan happened at a party, initiated by a simple dare. In the middle of a crowded kitchen, surrounded by sticky solo cups and cigarette smoke, you watched Hazel as she spoke. “Dare.” She stated to her brown-haired friend.

“Okay,” PJ starts and her eyes dart around the room,

“I dare you…” PJ’s eyes find you and she points her finger at your frame “to kiss her.”

“Real original, PJ,” Hazel remarks as she makes her way over to you.

At first, you didn't give it much thought, dismissing it as just a harmless dare amidst the alcohol-fueled chaos of the party. But as you followed through and Hazel's lips met yours, something in you shifted, and every sensation suddenly heightened. The taste of tequila on her tongue mixed with the smell of her sharp cologne made your head dizzy.

The kiss, though quick, left a new feeling that you couldn't forget. You were amazed at how in sync your movements were with each other, considering you barely knew Hazel. You’d seen her a couple of times in class, walking around campus in her stylish outfits, and at parties like these. She was friends with your roommate, Isabel, so she did run in the same social circle as you.

When Hazel eventually pulled away from the kiss, the absence of her touch left you wanting more. You leaned forward, instinctively chasing her lips. Embarrassment washed over you, reality kicking in, and you were suddenly hyper-aware of yourself. With the re-realization that it was just a game you were playing, you buried the feelings deep within your stomach, locking them away and deciding they should never be explored.

-

You found Hazel a few weeks later, outside one of the dorm buildings, returning home from another late night. That night, a couple of drinks deep, you summoned the courage to confess what had been consuming your thoughts. Her soft brown hair, her big blue eyes, her attractive scent, and how soft her lips were on yours.

Something felt different about your infatuation with Hazel, and you were dying to just be close to her again.

"I don’t know what it is about you, Hazel," you say, your back leaning against the side of the bricked building. "I’m never like this with anyone," you whisper, avoiding eye contact.

"I haven't been able to stop thinking about our kiss, and I know that's ridiculous because it was just a stupid dare at a party." Hazel sensed your vulnerability in that moment. She took a step toward you and reached for your hand, gently playing with your fingers, which hung between both of you. As you rambled on, she stared and smiled at you, enjoying your attempt to express your feelings.

"Yeah?" She nodded at you, leaning in a bit closer with a cocky grin. "You liked it that much, huh?"

You avoided her gaze again, clearly growing more embarrassed.

"Well, I was never going to tell you this,” she sucked in a breath “But before the game started, I actually told PJ to dare me to kiss you. It was the only way I thought I was ever going to be able to." Her hand moved from your hand to your waist, squeezing gently, and her eyes landed on your lips. Her confession hung heavy in the air between you both.

Feeling a rush of boldness, you couldn't hold back any longer. You grabbed her by her shirt, slowly pulling her closer, and in a moment of sheer impulsiveness, you pressed your lips firmly against hers.

Your kiss deepened, the pressure between your lips gradually intensifying, the sensation giving you goosebumps. Hazel's lips were plush and inviting, just like you remembered. Her lips left yours for a moment before attaching themselves to your jaw, then your neck, sucking gently.

“Shit, Hazel.” You sighed and your back arched against the wall, already breathless.

Her hand on your waist pulled you closer, the touch gentle yet possessive. Your fingers instinctively wound into her hair, the strands soft and silky beneath your touch.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing this since that night,” She says between kisses to your neck. “Want you so bad,” she whines.

Her lips found yours again, the kiss hot and passionate, fueled by the emotions that had been building between you. There was an urgency to the way your lips moved together, and you felt a soft sigh escape Hazel's lips. Your bodies pressed against each other, every inch of skin on fire from the contact.

What you didn’t notice was your ex-boyfriend's roommate, Tyler, emerged out of the dorm building's entrance. He recognized you after a minute and stared at the scene in front of him in complete shock, jaw slack. He pulled out his phone, capturing the moment with a camera click. Lost in the intensity of your kiss, neither of you had noticed him. He snickered at his discovery, feeling proud of this piece of information he was now sitting on.

-

In the days that followed, you and Hazel became inseparable, caught up in the intoxication of a budding romance and newfound feelings. Mundane moments were made ten times better just by her presence. You’d been in relationships before, but not like this.

Taking walks hand in hand, you found the quiet corners of your college town, finding comfort in how easy it was to be around each other.

Movie marathons turned into shared glances and stolen kisses, the screen flickering in the background as you explored this new person. Your connection was so intense, it often escalated into heavy makeout sessions in Hazel's dorm, losing yourselves in the heat of the moment.

You were lying in bed, your head resting on Hazel's chest while her arm encircled you. The soft glow from Hazel's laptop illuminated the room, displaying a scene where two characters were kissing in a pool.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” you said.

Hazel's hand gently rubbed your shoulder. “Do what, hm?”

“Make out in a pool. It just seems so… liberating.” You shifted in her arms to gaze up at her.

“How is making out while standing in a body of water any different than doing it on land?” She laughed, looking down at you.

“You'll find out when we do it one day,” you said with a smirk. “It’s gonna blow your mind.”

“I don’t know, I think our kisses are already pretty mind-blowing. But I’ll hold you to it,” she replied, her eyes fixed on your lips.

Just then, your phone rang, and it was a call from Isabel. You answered it, still comfortably lazing on Hazel as she absentmindedly stroked your hair.

“Hey Isabel, what's up?”

“I just wanted to check on you and see how you're doing…”

“I’m fine, I’m just at Hazel’s, I’ll be back soon though.”

“Have you seen the photo? Of you and Hazel?” She blurts out.

You sit up, your heart beating frantically as you press the phone closer to your ear. Hazel looks at you, her expression shifting from contentment to concern, sensing the change in your demeanor.

"What photo, Isabel?" you ask, your voice tight with worry.

"It's on Instagram," Isabel replies, her tone heavy with concern. "Someone posted a picture of you and Hazel, and the comments… they're awful. Homophobic slurs, slut-shaming… I thought you should know."

A lump forms in your throat, and you glance at Hazel, who grips your hand reassuringly, silently offering her support. "I haven't seen it," you admit, your voice shaky. "But thanks for letting me know."

"I reported the comments, but I don't know how long it'll take for them to be taken down," Isabel continues, her voice filled with empathy. "I'm here for you, okay? Don't let those ignorant people get to you." You take a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

"Thanks, Isabel," you say, your voice quivering. "I appreciate your support. I'll talk to you later, okay?”

"Of course," Isabel replies, her voice softening. "I’ll see you later tonight.”

With trembling hands, you grabbed your phone to see it for yourself.

There it was - the innocent moment captured in a snapshot, now tainted by the cruelty of strangers. As you scrolled through the comments, your heart pounded in your chest, each hateful word striking like a physical blow.

The pain intensified with every comment, echoing the doubts that had been gnawing at the corners of your mind. Hazel peered over your shoulder, her expression a mix of anger and concern.

"Ignore them," she urged, her voice soft yet determined. "They don't know us”

But the words had already burrowed deep within you, festering like a poison. A sense of overwhelming shame washed over you, overpowering Hazel's words. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in, and in a desperate attempt to escape, you grabbed your jacket and phone, your hands trembling as you stuffed it into your pocket.

"I can't stay here," you muttered, your voice strained, your eyes avoiding Hazel's gaze. "I need to get away from all of this."

Hazel reached out, her fingers brushing against your arm, her eyes pleading. "Please, don't run out like this," she implored, her voice cracking with emotion.

"I can't stay here," you repeated, your voice cracking as you met Hazel's gaze, filled with self-doubt. "We shouldn't see each other anymore." The words hung heavily between you, an unbearable admission of defeat. You turned away, unable to face the look in Hazel's eyes, and made your way to the door.

"Wait," Hazel pleaded, her voice raw with emotion, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

The door creaked shut behind you, sealing off the warmth and safety of the room you had shared with Hazel. Tears blurred your vision as you hurried down the dimly lit corridor, the echoes of your footsteps a haunting reminder of the distance growing between you and her.

-

It had been a month since you left Hazel in her dorm room. A miserable month to say the least. You felt so guilty for hurting her, but were also dealing with the hurt you felt from your privacy being so rudely invaded. Not to mention the straight-up awful comments you both received. But tonight, you were at a party you had reluctantly agreed to go to. Isabel and her girlfriend Josie convinced you that you needed to get out of your head and let loose.

Flamingo pink and aquamarine neon lights cast an ambiance on the frat house walls. The floor was sticky and the speakers were playing a rap song you didn’t know.

“Dude, we’re so young, you have your whole life ahead of you to fall in love and date hot people,” Isabel said, raising her glass to you. “Like, being this young is art. Cheers to that.” Isabel clinks her shot glass to yours. You tip your head back and shoot the tequila, burning your throat as it goes down. You needed any excuse to take a shot right now.

"I’m just going to go get us some more drinks and find Josie, okay?" Isabel gives you a reassuring look, and you nod before she disappears toward the bar. You do your best to make it look like you’re busy without your friend there, opening your phone, turning your brightness down, and scrolling through the calendar and weather app hoping no one can see over your shoulder.

“Well would you look who it is” You hear a familiar, sinister voice come from behind you. Great, it's your ex-boyfriend. Quite literally the last person on planet Earth you want to be standing face to face with right now.

“What could you possibly want right now, Josh.” You say deadpan, genuinely annoyed to be in his presence.

You and Josh had dated for four months. It was your typical college relationship, but there was always something missing, and you couldn't quite figure out what it was. He wanted sex, but you never felt quite ready to do it yet, at least not with him. Four months with no sex for a typical frat guy like Josh was absolute torture for him, so he went looking elsewhere. You ended it when you found him in bed with a brunette from the nursing program.

You can smell his mint gum as he cockily chews it and leans closer to you. “You come here to make out with more dykes, huh? You know, I always thought you were a prude, considering you never gave it up. Turns out your just a horny freak for pussy.”

His words sting. Hot tears brim at the bottom of your lash line. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, but you’ve never been good at standing up for yourself in these situations.

“Fucking slut.” He spits, even closer to your face than he was a moment ago. He has you cornered against the wall now, your blood boiling with rage and your head spinning with shame.

In the dim light, you see a hand adorned with silver rings firmly grip onto his shoulder. Before he could react, he was yanked backward by the other figure, a swift and forceful movement that left him disoriented. The punch landed sharply, the impact reverberating through his body.

Hazel.

Her eyes met his for a moment, before she turned toward you, leaving him shocked.

Holy shit.

You stare at Hazel, stunned, your gazes locked. Bright, red blood pours from your ex-boyfriend's nose.

“What the fuck?” His hands fly up to his face. “Is this your little girlfriend?” He laughs humourlessly, pointing to Hazel. “Real fucking cute. Yeah, you’re dead’ He says as he launches toward her, only to be pulled back by another group of arms, Isabel and Josie.

“Guys! Go! We’ll take care of him”

Hazel wastes no time and grabs your hand, her fingers entwining with yours in a reassuring grip. You run alongside her, the thumping music fading as you descend the stairs and navigate the chaotic kitchen of the large frat house. Your heart races, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation fueling your steps.

You don’t know if it's the slight buzz from earlier or the intoxicating lovesickness for the girl in front of you that continues to propel your feet forward, but you decide to just go with it. Hazel leads you through the crowd, weaving in between sweaty bodies and flashing lights.

As you step into the backyard, the cool night air hits your skin, and the scene before you unfolds like something out of a movie. A huge moonlit swimming pool stretches out, its surface rippling with the movements of people swimming in their underwear, their laughter and splashes filling the air. Realization strikes you, and you know exactly what Hazel is about to do.

With an impish grin, she turns to you, "Ready?" she asks, her voice drowned out by the music but clear in your ears. She hovers her mouth to the shell of your ear. “Just trust me, please” she whispers.

You nod, feeling a surge of adrenaline, and without another word, Hazel tugs you toward the edge of the pool.

With a shared glance, you leap into the water together, the cool embrace of the pool enveloping you. As you resurface, you find Hazel's eyes, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the pool. She looks so perfect like this, you almost forgot how stupidly into her you were.

“You look really pretty” She finally says.

“Hazel, I’m so sorry. That was so fucked up leaving you in your room like that.”

“I tried to call you,” she says, her voice tinged with disappointment.

“I know, I was too much of a coward to face you, I always bury everything that makes me uncomfortable and avoid it forever. It's unfair, you need someone who can confront those issues head-on, right away.”

“What if all I need is you?” she murmurs, her words hanging in the air, heavy with vulnerability and hope.

“Hazel…”

Your heart swells at her comment, you wanted nothing more than to hear those words come from her mouth, but your guilt makes you hesitant.

She reaches out for your hand, pulling you closer through the water, her touch reassuring. Her hands gently encircle your waist, you instinctively raise yours to rest around her neck. It feels like magnets snapping back into place,

"I don’t want to hide anymore. I don't want to be the one who runs away from difficult conversations. I want to be the one who faces challenges with you, who stands by your side no matter what." you say.

Her eyes soften, and she gives you a small smile, her grip on your back tightening. "I believe you," she says. Her voice is filled with trust.

"I mean it, Hazel," you continue, your voice steady.

She lifts your legs in both of her hands, effortlessly supporting you as you wrap them around her body beneath the water. The sensation is intimate, a silent declaration of trust and connection. Suspended in the water, your eyes meet hers, and in that moment, there's a shared understanding that goes beyond words.

Your foreheads meet each other, resting gently against one another, and your breathing hitches in anticipation as Hazel speaks. “So, are we still on for that mind blowing pool kiss?” she asks, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

A mischievous smile curves your lips in response. "Well, if they’re gonna call me a slut," you say, your voice low and sultry, "it might as well be worth it for once. I say we give them a show."

With unspoken agreement, you close the distance between your lips, capturing Hazel's mouth in a heated, passionate kiss. The world around you fades away, and all that exists is the electricity between you, the taste of her lips, and the water around your bodies.

You feel hopeful for the future, for where this could go. For where your heart might lead you. As you both pull away, breathless and smiling, you exchange a knowing glance, understanding that something has shifted between you, and you were exactly where you were meant to be.

-

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

a/n: thanks so much for reading !! this is my second fic ever so again pls forgive me if there are any mistakes. I definitely want to write more for hazel though so I am so open to requests if you ever want to send one <3333

[linkemon]

I won't say I'm in love (Shroud Idia x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ɪᴅɪᴀ ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴍᴇɢᴀʀᴀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀᴄᴜʟᴇꜱ. ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ, ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴏᴛᴏᴍᴇ, ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴀɪɴ ᴀʙᴏᴜ��� ʀᴘɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡʜʏ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ɪᴛ.

— Ortho, can you repeat that again? — Idia blinked rapidly.  

He stared at his brother as if he had suddenly sprouted three heads. In the darkness, illuminated only by the light falling from the screen, he had the impression that the dark, robotic silhouette had turned into Cerberus. A huge dog standing guard in the doorway. He would love to cross to the other side of this imaginary Styx but he couldn't. Such betrayal? His own brother stabbing him in the back?  

— Bro, you don't have to be so dramatic…— Ortho shook his head. — I invited [Reader] because you haven't seen each other for a long time and...  

— And you don't see any problem? You're a huge red flag for doing this behind my back. —The older brother hugged the pillow. The huge dakimakura seemed to help him shut out the world.  

The youngest Shroud turned on the light. The glow of LED bulbs seemed to peer into every corner. It was looking for colourful wrappers from sweets imported from abroad. It skimmed over every screw and scrap of metal from failed projects. It even discovered piles of comic books mixed with records falling out of their packaging. The room was a mess. Ortho was aware of this. However, he stated that it was not worth turning the knife in the wound. He did not comment on the state of affairs. Instead, he turned on the quick cleaning mode. Idia joined him reluctantly. Silently, with a suffering face, he threw the garbage into a large bag.  

Ortho wondered what exactly he had done wrong. According to his information, [Reader] and Idia did not have a quarrel. On the contrary. Since everyone had returned from S.T.Y.X. HQ, he felt like his brother had finally made some friends. People he likes spending time with. They played games together and sometimes he even let them take him outside, which was a big success in itself. The prefect didn't mind his enthusiasm for fantasy. She seemed happy to learn about the media that reigns supreme in Twisted Wonderland. She hadn't had much opportunity to explore this side of the world, so Shroud was quietly happy to introduce the, as he put it, noob to the most important corners of Internet.  

The contact ended quite suddenly. Ortho didn't need special programs to notice that something was wrong. He asked [Reader] directly but she said that Idia was apparently very busy with a new project. He would have believed it if he hadn't lived with him. How busy can you be watching the same old Premo concert for the thirty-third time in two weeks? His brother looked like he couldn't find a place in his own beloved room and didn't want to say what was going on. So Ortho did what he always did — he pushed him. The invitation was the first step. What he will do with this fact will be his initiative alone. With that thought he left the room.  

There was a faint knocking sound through the metal door. Idia felt like he had just had a heart attack. He had a choice:  

a) pretend he's not there (20% effective, most people on campus knew it wasn't true because he used this attack too often)  

b) say that he is sick (an even worse plan, because someone will definitely take him to the hygienist)  

c) ask [Reader] to go away (a tragic choice in RPGs that causes you to lose a companion; if she hasn't hated him by now, she definitely will after this option)  

d) open the door like a civilized person his parents tried to raise him to be (he will be given the fearful status but will gain +10 courage)  

He decided on the last option and, taking a deep breath, opened the door.  

— Hi! — [Reader] immediately went to her usual place on the huge pouffe. She fell on it like a giant starfish from the Octavinelle aquarium.  

The boy expected anything. Or at least reproaches. He didn't fully understand himself. Was he such a good liar? NO. He wasn't stupid. He knew his capabilities. He was never great at this. Unless we're talking about framing someone from the opposing team in games but that's not the case. Maybe he was annoyed that she didn't miss him as much as he missed her...  

— I brought us a new game. Cater recently mentioned that his sisters had some to give away because they were bored of them, so I took all they had.  

— What do you have there? — he risked a safe question.  

The girl handed him a colourful package. He guessed that the record was second-hand. The colourful cover looked like it had seen better days. However, after seeing a crowd of pretty 2D men, he guessed what genre he was dealing with. Visual novel. And not just any kind. In his hands he held an otome…  

— Reincarnated in a fantasy world with six princes after being run over by a carriage... Okay, this title is so long it doesn't even fit on the cover. Meet them all: rules-loving, wild, THIS ONE IS A MERMAID?!  

He didn't feel like reading the rest. Idia wasn't a noob when it came to otome. On the contrary. He ate his teeth on all possible game genres. Usually, however, he made sure that they maintained any level. However, this title seemed to him like a bunch of random tropes. Someone on the other side just had to wait to throw them all together and create their fan dream.  

— I guess we can just take making choices — he said, inserting the disc into the console.  

— Don't worry, good people, for ladyknightskibidi:3 has arrived! — announced the prince with the archetype of the mysterious figure.  

— Idia, you have the humor of a seven-year-old — said the girl, seeing the MC nickname written on the screen.  

— But admit it, you're enjoying it. — Shroud handed over the controller.  

The heroine's long hair waved in the wind. Her eyes seemed to contain the light of all the stars. Rose petals were floating in the air and their strong scent seemed to captivate everyone around. Even though it was the middle of winter and they basically should be dead...  

— You can even choose the colour of the horse. Do you think this is important to the plot? And what if we miss the illustration? — [Reader's] hand hovered over the controller.  

— It's an obvious move. They want us to think that white is assigned to the pretty guy and black is assigned to the mysterious guy. Meanwhile, it's quite the opposite. I don't know who the last one is assigned to but it doesn't matter — Idia said.  

The white steed, a brave companion on many journeys, headed towards the main gate, where ladyknightskibidi:3 met the archetypal prince with a heart of gold who was talking to an NPC. She made her purchases, although they actually had no impact on the plot and were just a cash grab to force players to buy new outfits for the characters. So she left without a new dress, which was highlighted in the illustration by the armor that did not match the idyllic setting. After all, who says you can't kiss in full armor on the beach...?  

— There's no way we're going to pay for any DLC. Who do they think they are?  

— Do you know what the process of publishing indie games looks like? They have to make money somehow.  

— I don't care, we don't pay! I got this from Cater. Free is a fair price.  

The heroine saw the ultimate villain of the series, whom she had to defeat. With the power of kindness, friendship and, of course, sarcasm. Mostly sarcasm. Dressed in completely mismatched clothes because good stats are the most important. Even if it means you get married in a neon hat... The most important thing is that MC and her groom rode off into the sunset. Good ending unlocked. Now just repeat this a few times and multiply it by each save to also make bad endings...  

— Is it the end already? I understand they had to cram in a few routes but this is so short. — Shroud shook his head.  

The screen showed a colourful collage of obtainable illustrations. The end credits and the creators' names were scattered between them.  

The chosen one of MC's heart seemed to be smiling mockingly at Idia from behind the glass. Here is another story where someone like Vil from Pomefiore wins a girl's heart. Handsome, rich and famous. The complete package.  

— Oh yes, beautiful and perfect type. Why am I not surprised that bishōnen won? — Shroud mumbled into his sweatshirt sleeve.  

Unfortunately not quiet enough.  

— Idia, need I remind you that you also made half of the choices. You're also responsible for the outcome — [Reader] commented, putting down the controller.  

— I chose exactly as normies do in real life.  

— It's not about the game at all, is it? — [Reader] looked straight at him. — You've been avoiding me for two weeks. — So he really wasn't a good liar after all, he thought. — I don't think I gave you a reason to be offended but if I did, just tell me. And if it's another S.T.Y.X. problem, I'll try to do something too but I can't help you if you don't talk to me at all.  

Communication was never his default stat. However, he had to admit that he rarely tried to put any points into this skill tree. He just didn't develop it. He really wanted to start but just thinking about it felt like the ends of his hair were starting to change colour. The edges of the metalic chairs reflected an embarrassing red. As always, his hair had to betray him.  

Idia was a nerd. He thought through the situation in several hundred different ways and came up with tons of potential solutions. So why wasn't this conversation in any of his plans? Why was it so difficult to put any of the imaginary conversations into action? His brain went into a glitch because he had to face this hopeless truth that he didn't want to reveal even to his own brother.  

What could he say? [Reader] didn't deserve this prolonged, embarrassing silence. But she waited patiently despite two weeks of being ignored. So he did what was the only thing that came to his mind.  

— I'm an NPC — he finally said.  

— Okaaay. — Prefect of Ramshackle tilted her head uncertainly.  

— No, you don't understand — he sighed, rubbing his forehead. — For example, take the MC from Reincarnated in a fantasy world... uh... the MC from this game. You are like her. The main character is always running around and helping all the characters around her, without looking at herself. She doesn't even realize that she is smart, selfless and beautiful. She always knows what to say to bad guys and is not afraid to fight. And then a prince arrives on a white horse. He's pretty, rich, and provides her with everything she needs. There are no flaws because that's not how you write ikemens. They just should be cool and that's it. Then these two come together and boom! Good ending. At their wedding, the creators will put the NPC who sells you items in the crowd because they don't want to make a new model, so they can use it. In the sequel, maybe he'll even say a few words and you'll find out that he has a brother, a magic workshop and will repair your carriage but that's where the relationship ends. He will stand by the gate and sigh because he loves her but he will never tell her because he is not even in this game. He was never selected so he didn't make it to the cover...  

Everything he said came to him with a delay. When it came to games, his brain had always thought faster. But now he cursed him inwardly because the statement seemed to hang heavy in the air.  

[Reader] looked at him searching for something. She seemed to weigh her words. But he was prepared for anything. He played so many bad endings. This one will just be another one of them. So why was his heart beating so terribly fast and he was silently praying to his favourite idols to just take him away?  

— There are almost always secret routes in otome — the girl said.  

— Huh? Idia blinked rapidly. — I've played more otome than you, I don't know if you should educate me…— [Reader]'s raised brow made him stop talking.  

— The truth is, I played it a little with the Cater's sisters. This game also has a secret route. The seventh romance character is hidden. You unlock it when you pass…  

—…all routes — Shroud interjected. — Okay, I'm seriously shutting up now — he added, looking down.  

— This character is an item NPC. — [Reader] paused in case the boy was to interrupt her again but nothing happened. — What I mean is that the MC can also choose an NPC. If only he tells her how he feels and wants to take part in the game.  

The screen illuminated her face with a pale glow and the boy realized that in the darkness she really looked like the main character. How can you seriously say something so cool, as if nothing happened? She stared at him with silent expectation. He wanted to scream into dakimakura but he probably wouldn't look too cool doing it. So he mentally prayed to his idols. If there was ever a time the Premos should help him, this was it.

— In the game, the MC makes decisions, so technically she has no causative power and... Ahem. Okay. I know that I'm going too far. Sooo... would you like to go on a date with me? But it's best not to go to Mostro Lounge because there are a lot of people there and for the first time it could be tragically scary and...  

— Idia?  

— Yes? — He swallowed loudly.  

— I'll go on a date with you but your hair is burning the controller right now...