noarawriteszr

[noarawriteszr]

AYO what have you done to my three favorite Hashiras? 👀

[noarawriteszr]

I want to imagine that Lady D had been swarmed like bees by her daughters in the early stages of motherhood.

[noarawriteszr]

Real man

Plot: Through small, tender gestures, he proves what it truly means to be a real man, leaving your heart quietly stirred.

A/N: Hey guys! How are you?😽⭐️

As promised, here’s the second story of the week! Writing it was such a ride, fun, but also kinda tricky. Honestly… I’m a bit skeptical about this one. (-_-;)

But guess what? Next week, I’ve got something spicy coming: an RE8 story, full of angst and all the feels hehehe.. Thank you SO much for all the love and support, it really means the world to me! Now I’m curious… what did you think of this one? Don’t hold back, I want all your thoughts! 🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

The teahouse was alive with gentle sounds, the soft clink of porcelain, the low hum of conversations, and the fragrant steam of tea curling from every cup. Couples leaned close to one another, their laughter forming warm bubbles that seemed to float in the air. But you felt none of it. The warmth of the room refused to touch you, replaced instead by a tightening in your chest, a cold unease curling around your ribs.

Across from you, your date spoke as though the world belonged to him. Each sentence overflowed with self-praise, his laughter echoing at your expense. You forced polite chuckles that tasted bitter on your tongue, each pause too fleeting to offer a word in return. When you shifted, trying subtly to retreat, he leaned closer, brushing your hand without consent. What had been a chance, an opportunity to open yourself to someone new had turned suffocating. This was not what you expected. This was not what you deserved.

And yet, you were not alone.

A few tables away, Gyomei Himejima sat quietly, his prayer beads slipping soundlessly through his fingers. His towering frame exuded calm, a quiet gravity that seemed to still the air around him. He had come seeking peace, a brief reprieve from duty in the comforting ritual of tea. But his stillness shattered the moment he heard you.

The tremor in your voice, the subtle faltering beneath each mocking word, your discomfort carried to him like a bell’s toll. Patience was his virtue, and he waited, observing silently, hoping for a correction that never came.

Then came the sharp tug.

Your date’s hand caught your wrist too tightly as you tried to move away. His voice sharpened, bitter and entitled, as he demanded why you were not enjoying the evening, as though your presence owed him thanks. That was enough.

The scrape of wood against the floor rang louder than the teahouse’s murmur as Gyomei rose. His presence alone drew silence; every head subtly turned. Each step he took was measured, deliberate, a river of calm power flowing toward you. His shadow fell across the table, and the air seemed heavier, charged.

“That is enough.” His voice rolled like stone, unyielding. “Let go of her.”

Your date froze, a scoff slipping out, but one look at Gyomei’s composed, unwavering gaze stole the courage from his chest. The grip on your wrist loosened instantly. With a muttered excuse and the scrape of his chair, he vanished, leaving only the echo of his pride.

Silence fell, pressing in around you. Your chest heaved, your wrist throbbing faintly, words caught somewhere between fear and relief. Then, softer, gentler, his voice came:

“Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, eyes lowered. “Just a little… mostly he made me feel uncomfortable. Thank you… for stepping in. That was very kind.”

He hesitated, his hand hovering near yours, warm yet respectful, never imposing. “Allow me.” he said, almost a whisper, reverent, patient.

When you gave the smallest nod, his large hand enveloped yours, impossibly gentle. His fingers moved in slow, soothing circles over the bruise forming on your skin. Each careful motion unwound the tight coil of tension inside you, leaving a shy warmth in its place. He did not diminish you. He did not frighten you. He simply allowed you to be seen.

Your chest tightened, a blossoming warmth spreading where cold had once lurked. You had admired him from afar before, his quiet strength, his steadfast discipline, but now, with his hands tending to your pain and his voice full of soft sincerity, you glimpsed something far deeper.

This was what it felt like to be respected. To be cherished. To be truly seen.

With a smile that softened the lines of his face, Gyomei offered to walk you home. Every word seemed to float, light as silk, and yet struck at the tender corners of your heart, sending butterflies fluttering through your chest. Side by side beneath the evening sky, your steps fell into a quiet, unspoken rhythm.

Conversation bloomed slowly, delicate as dawn’s first light. He listened with a care that made every detail of your life matter, the shape of your dreams, the small joys of your days. When the wind bit through the streets, he paused, draping his haori over your shoulders, his fingers brushing lightly against your arms. His gaze lingered on you with a soft attentiveness, as if he could feel the tremor in your voice before it surfaced.

Never once did he make you feel small. Instead, he carried himself in a way that lifted you, your presence treasured in his quiet attention. You stole glances at him, marveling at the reality of such a man.

By the time your door appeared, his soft chuckle followed a story you had told, lingering in the night air like a warm melody. “I am glad you are safe,” he murmured, bowing slightly. His hands rested before him, patient. “If it pleases you… I would like to see you again. Only if that is your wish.”

The choice was yours, and his presence lingered in your chest long after he stepped away.

A few days later, the marketplace hummed with life, vivid colors, the scent of fresh produce, voices calling above the crowd. You moved through the stalls, selecting the ripest fruits, when your eyes found him again. Instantly, the world seemed to blur around him. He was impossible to miss, yet moved with effortless grace. He bent carefully to lift a heavy basket for an elderly woman, his voice soft, kind, his touch gentle. Dust marked his clothing, but he did not notice. Respect did not cling to him because of his title, it radiated from the quiet humanity in every gesture.

Summoning courage, you approached. His breath caught, a subtle tilt of his head acknowledging your presence. A faint smile curved his lips, warmth flowing from the calm power in his stance.

“Good morning,” he said softly, voice rich with sincerity. “It is… a blessing to see you again.”

Time unraveled around you as you walked through the market together. He carried your basket, lingered when you paused at fruits, and offered the freshest morsels in small, tender gestures. When you teased him about trying your cooking, hope flickered in his eyes, and your chest lifted in response.

Later, he turned fully toward you, the market fading into quiet background. Relief softened his broad shoulders as you recounted cutting ties with your previous suitor. Then, his hand rose, hovering near yours, gentle, patient, seeking permission.

“A real man does not demand gratitude for kindness,” he murmured. “Nor does he measure his worth in coin or pride. His strength lies in how he listens… in how he honors the heart he wishes to protect.”

The words struck like a deep bell. You shivered, though warmth bloomed from his presence. His hands curved subtly as he held the space between you, reverent, protective, and full of care.

For a moment, the world fell silent. Then, your hand lifted to meet his. His large fingers wrapped around yours with careful warmth, lifting your hand slightly, thumb brushing lightly across your knuckles. Reverently, he bowed his head, pressing his lips to the back of your hand, a soft, sacred kiss.

The gesture was not hurried, nor bold, but unspoken and profound. When he lifted his gaze, his eyes held softness that made your chest tighten.

“You deserve nothing less than respect… and affection that does not falter..” he murmured.

Your breath caught, cheeks flushed, heart swelling not with doubt but with hope. Gyomei had not told you he was a real man, he had shown you. And in that quiet, tender moment, you realized you longed to see how much more he could show.

Thank you for reading it, please send requests.🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

[noarawriteszr]

😭😭😭😭

Being Tamayo’s reincarnated child headcannons

Tw! Spoilers for her backstory, mention of death

Platonic

Gender and age of reader is not started

A/N: I was listening to Mipha’s theme when making this so I’m sad. Why do I do this to myself?

When she sees you, she’s just hit with memories.. and guilt.

You were her youngest baby, the last one she had, and the one she had the least amount of time with

She doesn’t know if she should beg for forgiveness or thank every deity past, present and future for this opportunity

She’s not sure if you remember her, most likely is that you probably don’t

She is conflicted about interacting with you. She loves you but she doesn’t want to disturb the life you already have without her

Fate, being fate decided to throw you in her arms again

She still remembers everything about you, it’s like getting a second chance

Sometimes, she cries after spending time with you, so full of joy and grief

Late at night, she curses Muzan’s name for ripping her of her family

As a mother, she always wants you to be safe so she sneaks wisteria in your bag so that it would ward off hostile demons

When you accidentally fall asleep on her, she strokes your hair and holds you close

You’re the catalyst for her making an antidote

Resting her cheek on your head as you fell asleep on her shoulder, waiting for daybreak to hit. Yushiro was less than pleased by someone resting on his lady, but she shooed him away.

With soft purple eyes and even softer hands, she ran her fingers through your scalp, gently massaging it so make you further relax.

“Perhaps in the next life, we can be a true family after I’ve served my time in Hell..”

And a purple flower was snuck into your pocket.

[noarawriteszr]

Hey guys!! Good night😽

Just want to let yall know that on sunday I will be posting a new story!! yayy

thats it, love ya

xoxoxo

[noarawriteszr]

Adorable content over here 😁🥹🤧

can we get more hcs of being the youngest hashira? :3

Being the youngest Hashira part two

Platonic

Tw! Spoilers, mention of death

Gender of reader is not stated but reader is 14 or younger

A/N: I’m trying out a new style of headcannons for this. I guess we’ll see if it’s something I’ll try again

Falling asleep on them during a meeting/Giyuu and Gyomei

Giyuu just freezes

Poor boy does not know what to do in this situation

On the outside, he’s stone cold but on the inside is an internal panic

Should he wake you? Should he keep you asleep? Is this normal? Are you okay?

Eventually, he just settles for wrapping you up in his dual Haori while stroking your back awkwardly

Gyomei is a completely different situation

The man has taken care of kids before so he’s completely unfazed that you fell asleep on him

It means that you trusted him enough to be vulnerable and it touches him so much that he cries again

He keeps his hand on your small shoulder so that you don’t fall over in your sleep

It makes him feel nostalgic of his time before being a demon slayer

Being mistaken as your parents in public after making their way back to the demon slayer corps/Obanai and Mitsuri (Yeah, I did this on purpose.)

Mitsuri is so flattered, so touched, so proud that her bond is strong enough with both you and Obanai that you three look like a family

She takes the mom title seriously and she doesn’t even bother correcting the people who think that you’re her and Obanai’s child

She won’t ask you to call her mom but she’s silently begging you to

Obanai is.. processing

He does warm up to the idea of you three being a family

But it does bring up his.. issues

He thinks of his cursed blood that won’t ever let him fully accept that he deserves happiness but it does let him think of the next life..

Maybe you, Mitsuri and Obanai will be a family in the next life

Being injured on a mission/Shinobu and Sanemi

Shinobu’s fake smile immediately fades away the second a demon gives you a nasty cut across your stomach

Her number one goal is to kill off the demon and then treat you ASAP

She’s working as fast as she can

She’s not going to let a child die

Sanemi for a moment lets his emotions get the better of him

He adds a new scar to his collection on his body

He scoops you up and rushes you to the nearest Wisteria house or shinobu if she’s close enough

He refuses to get treated before it’s confirmed that you’re okay

He won’t admit it, but he keeps a closer eye on you

Being assigned on a mission with you/Rengoku and Muichiro

Rengoku is absolutely overjoyed that you’re joining him

He turns it into a whole ass field trip 💀

“Ah yes! This place has the best food! We can kill the demon later!”

It took about two weeks to get to the demon location, but it was a two hour walk 😭

Muichiro is pretty silent on the way to the mission location

But when you tow actually made it to the demon, oh boy

It’s a combination of creative insults and the most unholy stuff that would make a grown man cry

He encourages you to insult the demon too or you know, insult anyone in general

Accidentally calling referring to them as your family/Uzui and his wives

They all start ugly crying (Uzui denies it with his whole heart but he cried the hardest.)

Suma was sobbing and accidentally suffocating you in her boobs

“MY BABY MY BABYYYY” while you’re turning blue from lack of oxygen

Hinatsuru gently removes you from her chest so that you can finally breathe

“You’re okay now.. it’s okay.” She patted your back while you tried to get some air back in you

Despite her brash behavior Makio turns tender with you like a mother watching her baby bird fly for the first time

Uzui, just like Mitsuri takes it with pride

He will literally pick you up like Simba from the lion king

[noarawriteszr]

Hey, guys!!😽🤍

Good night! (Well… it’s night here in Brazil hehe💤)

So, as many of you know, I’ve got a full-time job, and honestly… keeping up with writing new stories, the gym, eating healthy, and basically adulting at the same time is exhausting! But I’m gonna try my best to post two stories per week.

I just uploaded “Unexpected Surprise” and now I need your help! For the second story of the week… what fandom do you want me to dive into? Should it be more Resident Evil Village content or any other?

I’m kinda running low on ideas, so your requests would make me so happy and really help me keep the stories coming! ⭐️

That’s it for now, but seriously—drop your ideas, I’d love to hear them!

With love,

Noara 🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

[noarawriteszr]

Unexpected Surprise

Plot: An unexpected surprise awaits you that night: quiet sketches and subtle gestures uncover the depth of Rengoku’s love, tender and unspoken.

A/N: Hello, sweethearts! How are you?🧡

According to the poll I did two days ago, we had the most votes for this story^-^ It was really nice to write this one, even though It's always a little bit more challenging writing for a character you never did before. Which is why I'm super excited for you to read it!!

Please let me know what you think of it(≧▽≦) Oh, I almost forgot, this is set in a modern world, kinda AU vibe.

I'm back to work and it's been really hard to keep up, but I'm doing my best to deliver new stories and share them with you, so I'm announcing that I'll try to post two stories this week, so there's this one and one more to come soon.

Enjoy it, dear.🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

The night had settled softly around the city when you finally stepped through the door, exhaustion pressing against every muscle, clinging like a second skin. All you craved was warmth: a bath to wash away the day’s weight, something simple and comforting to eat, and the steady, reassuring rhythm of your boyfriend’s heartbeat beside you as sleep claimed you.

The house was still, his laughter absent from the usual corners where it bounced like sunlight. You padded quietly through the space, phone heavy in your hand from unanswered texts, guessing he had dozed off. And sure enough, you found him on the couch, sprawled comfortably, chest rising and falling with a soft rhythm. Sleep softened his sharp features, and a tender smile lifted your lips. How had you gotten so lucky? Handsome was only the surface. Beneath that blazing grin, there was strength, trust, and warmth, a man who could carry the weight of the world yet remain endlessly kind, endlessly present.

You remembered that first dinner with your parents, how easily he had slid into conversation, laughing and sharing stories as if he’d known them for years. You had grown used to his brightness, the way he lit up every space, the endless energy captured in photos and posts. And yet, now, seeing him like this, quiet, unguarded, it was the version you love most.

Without thinking, your fingers threaded through his hair, massaging gently. Strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you down even in half-sleep. His laugh vibrated against your neck, and you pressed soft kisses along his cheek, melting into the warmth of him.

“Good night, love” he murmured, voice rough with sleep, sending a shiver through you. “When did you get home?”

“Just now” you whispered against him. “I’ll bathe soon… but I wanted to kiss you first.”

A sleepy smile, warm as the first light of dawn, curved his lips. “Go on, then. Relax. I’ll make something warm for us.”

Even as he rose, you lingered in his embrace, savoring the heat and safety. You kissed him once more before retreating to the bath, letting the steam carry away the day. The water wrapped around you, warm and soothing, and for the first time in hours, you let yourself exhale fully. When you stepped out, draped in his oversized shirt, soft, familiar, comforting, you felt a quiet peace settle into your bones.

Drawn by the rich, inviting aroma of simmering pasta, you wandered into the kitchen. There he stood, sleeves rolled, humming softly as he stirred the sauce. The domestic sight made your chest tighten with affection. Here, he was not the blazing, unstoppable force the world saw; here, he was simply home, quietly creating comfort.

You made a soft, playful hiss, letting him know you were watching.

He chuckled. “What?”

Even though he had seen you countless times in that shirt, he paused now, cheeks tinged pink, eyes soft. “You look so cute” he said gently, stepping closer and pressing a few tender kisses to your lips.

You smiled, rolling your eyes, and helped finish setting the table. Soon, you were across from each other, eating, laughing, sharing small, perfect fragments of your day. His impression of Tengen had you grinning until your cheeks ached, and your tales of work earned the furrow of his brows, concern softening the intensity you were used to. He admired your independence, your drive, yet the wish to carry your burdens for you lingered in his eyes.

Time passed unhurried, until you moved to clear the dishes. Strong hands intercepted yours, lifting them gently. “You’ve had a long day,” he murmured, tender and sure. “I’ll do this. You go rest.”

A quick kiss pressed to his lips, and you felt your heart lighten. You moved toward your room, still wrapped in his warmth.

And then, something caught your eye. On the small table by the bed lay a sketchbook, unfamiliar, delicate, almost sacred. Curiosity replaced fatigue, insistent and thrilling.

Your fingers traced the cover, soft and worn, carrying weight far beyond paper and leather.

Breath held, you opened it.

Page after page revealed quiet moments you had never noticed him capturing: sunlight falling through your hair while you read, the curve of your smile at a private joke, your head tilted while sipping coffee in thought. Each sketch was unpolished yet intimate, perfect in its honesty.

A breathless laugh escaped you. He had drawn you… remembered every detail, every fleeting movement you’d thought unnoticed.

Footsteps whispered behind you. Before you could hide it, he appeared, vulnerable, quiet. “I… didn’t think you’d find it yet,” he admitted, voice low, almost shy.

Your heart caught. He shifted closer, hand brushing yours as he reached for the sketchbook. “These… they’re for me. For us. So I can remember… everything that doesn’t make it into photos.”

“They’re beautiful” you whispered, awe and warmth thick in your chest. “You’ve kept all of this inside?”

His usual grin softened to something tender, almost shy. “You’re the best part of every day. I just… wanted to hold it close.”

You stepped forward, pressing your forehead to his. “I love this side of you..” you murmured.

For a long moment, you simply stood together, the sketchbook resting between your hands, bridging the world everyone knew and the one that existed only for the two of you.

Finally, he guided you gently to the bed. You curled into him without a word. His arms wrapped around you, snug and protective. Your cheek pressed to the warmth of his chest, and you felt the steady, calming beat of his heart beneath your ear.

Fingers brushed lightly along each other, subtle touches carrying the weight of unspoken words. His thumb traced slow, soft circles on your arm, and you sighed quietly, sinking deeper into the cocoon of him. He shifted slightly, pulling you closer, resting his cheek atop your head.

The soft glow of the lamp painted shadows across the bed, the room silent except for the rise and fall of his chest, your breathing, the warmth pressed between you. You moved slightly, pressing closer, the familiar heat of him wrapping around you like a shield.

Minutes stretched into a gentle infinity. His fingers threaded through your hair, thumb brushing the back of your neck, grounding you.

A whisper, soft as a breeze: “I love you.”

You tightened against him, heart swelling, and breathed back, equally quiet, “I love you too.”

And in that silence, wrapped in his arms, the night felt endless, soft, and infinite, a world made only for the two of you.

Thank you!🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

[noarawriteszr]

Any other slow burn Donna books I should read whilst I wait that YEAR for chapter 13 to come out? 😟 Please I need more Donna.. DO YOU KNOW WHERE I CAN FIND MORE DONNA?! 😭😭😭

I unfortunately haven't been reading ANY fics after I started my job , but here are two that I try to keep up with and fit your request for slow burn.

The ever famous and poetic The Phytologist's Guide to Falling in Love by @lucidmagic (BRUH YOUR TITLE IS TOO LONG JUST LIKE THE SLOW BURN!!)

And the hilarious and cute The Lady's Laundry by @cookiekitten91 (WHICH I'M NOW REALIZING IS 7/9 BROOOO ALMOST THERE!!)

[noarawriteszr]

late night thoughts:

I really do miss having friends in here, ughh

I'm so bad at making friends, and I feel really awkward to even try to do it so... Also I miss having regulars anons, I remember that last year I had two that were absolutely the sweetest persons ever and I just miss them so much, it was such a boost of energy whenever I saw them request and their emoji mark😭😭😭

I hope they're happy whenever they are :3

I'm happy that at least my stories are getting into a good reach, especially Alcina's ones. Yet, I miss having a friend.. truly

[noarawriteszr]

Guys!! How are you??

So I wanted to check with your preference which one do you prefer me to post first☝️⭐️

Please vote or comment🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི(send requests plss im begging yall)

[noarawriteszr]

Whispers II

Plot: Determined to reclaim your heart, Alcina courts you with gentle care, each tender gesture a confession of the love she can not hide. This is part II of "Whispers".

(Part I right here!)

A/N: Hey beautiful people! how are you?🖤😽

I'm very glad to see people liking "Whispers", it's really gracious because it was my first time trying to write in angst, so it's beyond exciting to see the positive results! ♥︎

By the way, this was a request, this angel requested the sequel so here ya go^-^

Please enjoy it! Oh, send requests🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

Since that day, you thought you’d feel Alcina’s fury again, sharp, unforgiving yet the wound festering inside your chest burned far more than what she had ever done to your body. You could never let her know that your heart had shattered into pieces when you heard her sobs echoing in the dark. You told yourself you deserved respect, that you would not let her crawl back into your heart only to break it again.

And yet… a different path unfolded before you.

It began with a note.

Tucked carefully between the pages of your favorite book, the one you only reached for when you sought comfort, the handwriting was unmistakable: Alcina’s. Elegant, controlled, and yet strangely tender.

“If I could speak without fear, I would tell you that each night without your smile feels like a century. But since my voice falters when you look at me, let these words bear the weight of my silence.”

You frowned, closing the book with a racing heart. The next day, another note appeared, slipped into a drawer. Then another, hidden in the pocket of your coat. Each letter carried no command, no pride, only longing, regret, and quiet adoration. They felt real. Sincere.

It frustrated you endlessly that even without her presence, Alcina lingered everywhere. She knew your habits too well. She remembered that you once told her your favorite flowers were tulips. She had noticed which dessert made you smile, which little things others dismissed as insignificant. You had never thought she listened… but she had. She had paid attention.

By the time the fifth letter arrived, trembling in your hands, you couldn’t hold back the words any longer.

“Why… why would she even write these?” you whispered to the empty room.

A soft laugh answered you.

Daniela stood at the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. There was mischief in her smile, but her tone was gentle, her hesitation clear.

“Perhaps I should suggest to Mother that being more direct would do her some good…”

You said nothing, too startled, and Daniela only shrugged, crossing her arms.

“She’s stubborn, you know. Never shows when she’s afraid. But this—” she tilted her chin at the letters in your hand “this is her way of saying she’s terrified of losing you. She’s a mess without you.”

For the first time in weeks, the anger didn’t feel so heavy. Confusion, yes. Hesitation, yes. But beneath it all, something softer began to stir.

“It doesn’t make sense. Any of this.” Your voice cracked, searching Daniela’s eyes for some trace of malice, some monstrous intent. But all you found there was devotion, and that infuriated you more than anything.

Especially because when Daniela smiled at you, wide, goofy, childlike, you felt your own lips twitch into a reluctant smile.

“If you asked Mother to leap for forgiveness,” Daniela said lightly, “she’d only ask how high.”

And with that, she slipped away, leaving you alone with your letters, your thoughts, and the fragile sound of walls beginning to crack.

The following morning, you wanted nothing more than to immerse yourself in your routine, to forget the tender moments you had shared with the Dimitrescu family. It was maddening, despite everything, despite all the horrors you had endured, you could not see them as monsters. All you saw was a family, beautifully flawed, striving to protect one another. Hate simply would not take root in your heart.

So avoidance became your only refuge. Steering clear of the daughters was almost unbearable, yet it felt necessary. It seemed Alcina herself was keeping her distance, and perhaps that was a mercy. You could not fathom how long you might withstand the pull of those golden eyes without surrendering entirely.

And then the terror struck: you had been assigned to serve the daughters their morning meal. Your instinct screamed to flee, but duty and an unspoken understanding held you in place. With a gulp and a heart heavy with apprehension, you made your way to the kitchen, each step feeling like a small battle.

By the time the preparations were complete, you carried the tray into the saloon. The moment their eyes met yours, softened by the gentle morning light, a warmth stirred within you. The three daughters lifted their heads in quiet delight, their excitement barely contained. And you allowed yourself a small, reluctant smile, your chest lifting despite your resistance.

They did not need words to speak. Daniela lingered at your side, her delicate hands brushing the edge of the tray, eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before she turned to wait patiently as you arranged the plates. Cassandra tilted her head, studying your careful movements, a faint, knowing smile playing at her lips, a silent question: you notice her, don’t you?

Even Bela, composed and reserved, leaned just enough to observe you quietly, her gaze soft and attentive, as though memorizing every subtle motion. Your heart twisted and softened all at once. Alcina had known about your fondness for the girls, the only maid ever to see them as three children rather than three vampires, and she was rewarding you for it. She was remembering the smallest details, tending to what brought you comfort, quietly, without expectation.

The realization struck you like sunlight through frost: Alcina was reaching for you in her own way, leaving delicate breadcrumbs of devotion, each one meant only for you to follow.

And somewhere, beyond the thick walls of the castle, you knew she was watching, waiting, hoping. Her golden eyes are unseen, yet present in every subtle act, every careful detail, every small echo.

For the first time in weeks, you breathed a little easier, letting the warmth settle where it had long been forbidden.

The morning passed without incident, leaving you with a peculiar, unsettling lightness. Since the moment you had walled yourself off from the world, you could not remember a single instant of such quiet happiness. Even the chores with the girls seemed to flow with ease.

Unexpectedly, your evening was free, unclaimed by duties. You suspected this was the hand of Alcina, though you would never dare question it. Deciding to make the most of the remaining sunlight, you wandered slowly toward the garden, hoping the flowers might steady the turbulence in your chest.

A small laugh nearly escaped you when you reached your usual spot. There, waiting, was a note, delicate, familiar. She knew you far too well, didn’t she?

Beside it lay a single tulip, your favorite, pressed and preserved with an elegance that spoke of thought, care, and time. The note was penned with an almost tender precision:

“For the moment, you need a reminder that you are not alone. That even when I falter, my thoughts are with you.”

Your chest tightened. This was not the commanding, imperious gesture of the Alcina you had once known. It was quiet. Humble. Vulnerable. A confession.

Instinctively, your eyes lifted, and for a fleeting heartbeat, you thought you glimpsed her reflection in the library window. Her towering form seemed distant, yet somehow closer than ever. You imagined those eyes upon you, waiting, watching, silently asking if you understood, if you accepted this small offering of devotion.

You decided, at last, to play her game, to open yourself, even if only a little, and see what Alcina might do this time. That night, in the quiet of your room, you wrote with care, shaping each word until it carried the subtle truth of your heart, without revealing everything.

By morning, you slipped the note beneath her tea tray. The maid tasked with delivering it hesitated, brow furrowed in confusion, but your firm glance left no room for refusal. After all, the Lady did not enjoy waiting.

The note read:

“Your actions confuse me, Alcina. They stir something I had long thought buried. I do not yet know where this path may lead, but your care has not gone unnoticed. It warms a part of me I had guarded for too long, even as it unsettles me. You are like the sun, brightening my day, yet leaving a burn upon my skin.”

Moments later, you imagined her receiving it. Perhaps she would glance at the paper with curiosity, then, with the careful grace only she possessed, read the words and ponder them.

You lingered near her workspace, pretending to tidy the room, though your heart raced with anticipation. Every tick of the clock echoed in your chest. You did not know how she would respond, whether with pride, irritation, or something softer. And yet, for the first time in weeks, the uncertainty did not feel like dread.

Somewhere deep within the castle, behind heavy curtains and closed doors, you imagined her golden eyes lifting to meet yours, watching, waiting, and perhaps, just perhaps, allowing herself to follow the trail you had left for her.

Later, in the garden, bathed in the golden afternoon light, you sat in your usual spot when Alcina appeared. Her towering form moved with the deliberate, effortless grace you had always known, and her golden eyes met yours, shimmering with a storm of emotions.

“I can no longer hide it,” she began, her voice low and steady, though a faint tremor betrayed the weight of her words. “I love you. I have loved you from the very first moment you entered my life, and I can not unlove you. I know who I am.. A monster. And I understand you may never forgive me. I will face that, whatever the consequences, for loving you is all I know how to do.”

Her gaze held yours, proud and unyielding, yet threaded with vulnerability. Her hands hung at her sides, quivering slightly, betraying the enormity of her courage.

You stepped closer, your voice soft, almost a whisper, carrying warmth and gentle amusement. “A monster… wouldn’t leave me cute, loving notes.”

“Nor remember my favorite snacks, my favorite book, or go to such lengths to win me back when you don’t even need to. I’m already yours, Alcina. I just… I don’t know how to do this. I beg you.. be patient with me.”

With that vulnerability, you finally allowed yourself to be near the one you desired most, even if it meant risking your heart again. You brought her hands into yours, feeling the slight tremble of her fingers, and then gently caressed her tear-streaked cheeks. She leaned into your touch, and a small, tentative smile curved her lips.

“I will give you all the time you need, I swear,” Alcina whispered, her voice quivering, tender and urgent. “Just let me be near you, let me love you, let me drown into you.”

Her face pressed against your hands, golden eyes searching yours, and you couldn’t resist running your fingers through her hair, feeling the soft curls against your palms. Her hands hovered, longing to hold you close, yet she hesitated, caught between desire and caution.

Not for the first time, you felt the irresistible urge to close the distance. Your lips sought hers before your mind could form the words, moving slowly, deliberately. Her eyes widened for a heartbeat, then softened as she adjusted, letting your noses brush, your foreheads nearly touching. With a tender, knowing look, you closed the final distance.

Her lips met yours, soft yet insistent, moving together in a rhythm that spoke of longing, trust, and surrender. Her hands roamed your body, drawing you impossibly close, and a soft moan escaped you against her mouth. Each touch, each sigh, each heartbeat between you was a confession, a reassurance, a promise. You lingered in that embrace, breathing together, before finally pulling back just enough to catch your breath. And in that tender closeness, with your whispers brushing against her ear and the warmth of your gaze holding her still, she knew that these were the only whispers she would ever need to hear, the only ones that would echo in her heart for eternity.

Thank you for reading it! 🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

[noarawriteszr]

Just finished one work, and I want to finish the sequel of whisper tonight too, also for future observation, I decided to time up the time I take to write and edit those stories and the result is almost 2 hours, it's not that much to be honest but I guess it's pretty exhausting because my mind is working at full speed the whole time lol

either way, I'm gonna rest a little bit and will do the sequel later, bye bye

[noarawriteszr]

Like you

A/N: Hey cuties! How are you?🩶

I love it when I listen to music, and it inspires me to write something >-< I was hearing"Sienna" by The Marias, and I thought it would be interesting to make something out of it. I will also release a sequel to "Whispers," so it's a special day, huh? :D

Plot: Two Hashira once bound by quiet promises drift apart after a wound too deep to ignore. Yet even in the silence, neither can escape the weight of what was until fate offers them one final chance to decide if love can survive the scars.

The Butterfly Estate bustled as always, voices of slayers weaving through its halls, footsteps echoing like a restless heartbeat. Yet in the brightness of midday, Shinobu allowed herself a brief surrender to grief. She told herself to stop, to bury it, but her chest still ached where your absence carved its hollow.

She caught herself staring at a blank stretch of wall, as if the silence might conjure you. If she strained enough, she could almost hear your scolding voice teasing her for overworking, your exasperated sighs, those insufferable little habits she once found irritating. How she longed to endure them again. The thought drove her to her feet too quickly, her movements sharp with frustration. A walk, she told herself, would be enough to scatter these ghosts.

But the corridors only betrayed her, each turn heavy with the echo that was missing. No second set of steps beside hers, no presence to soften the emptiness. It felt wrong, unnatural. She let out a bitter laugh, scoffing under her breath. How dare you make her own life feel incomplete?

The memories pressed closer, each one cutting deeper. She should never have said the things she did that night. Yet the betrayal lingered: Why had you hidden such a truth from her? Since Kanae’s death, she had vowed never to stand helpless again, never to watch someone she loved march into the jaws of fate. And then, at a gathering meant to be routine, she saw you.

Your smile was radiant, your voice unwavering as you announced your new title with pride. A Hashira. The word itself was a knife. The others knew. Everyone knew, except her.

Her breath had caught, her composure shattering in an instant. Anger surged, wild and unmeasured. The argument that followed burned with words sharp enough to cut skin. She hadn’t thought, hadn’t cared, and each syllable flung at you carried the weight of a demon’s claws.

Your silence struck her harder than any shouted words ever could. Instead of lashing out, you reached for the butterfly hairpin she had given you years ago, a gift meant to bind more than just your hair. When you pressed it back into her hand, your face was flushed, your eyes shimmering with tears you refused to let fall. Shinobu, who knew you better than anyone, felt her own composure crack. That hairpin had been more than a trinket; it was a promise, her heart placed in your hands. And now you were giving it back.

“By your words,” you whispered, voice trembling, “I’m not enough to wear this. I never will be. It’s better if we keep things professional. I don’t want to be a burden to you anymore. Take care.”

Before she could breathe a reply, you turned and fled. Shinobu remained frozen, clutching the hairpin so tightly she feared it might shatter. Images flooded her mind, your voice, laughing as you once spoke of a future beyond this war. Children, you had said, would one day fill the halls of the mansion. Little ones with your smile and her spirit, their laughter brighter than the blood-soaked world you fought to protect. But now? That dream lay broken in her palm, as if you had returned it to her along with the hairpin.

It broke her.

For days, she moved like a shadow, miserable, but relentless in her duties. Demons would not wait for her grief. Weeks bled into months, and each Hashira gathering became a quiet torment. Seeing you across the room was like swallowing poison, the kind that lingered and rotted from within. She watched you laugh, watched you grow closer to the others, and regret carved her deeper each time. Your smile, once hers alone, now felt like a memory slipping beyond reach.

Her longing betrayed her. Everyone noticed her lingering stares, the way her eyes pleaded silently for you to look back at her, just once. To remember the dreams they had shared. The exhaustion of restraint weighed her down until one night, Gyomei, ever perceptive, spoke gently as he always did:

“Go after your love. Even if it wounds your pride.”

That night, Shinobu decided. Either she would end her misery, or she would walk willingly deeper into it.

When the next gathering ended and farewells began, you offered your polite bow and turned to leave. But a hand reached for yours, delicate, trembling despite the steel in her voice.

“Can we talk, please?” Shinobu’s eyes betrayed the storm within her.

Surprised, you could only nod, your fingers brushing against hers as she led you into the quiet night. The walk to your home was suffocating in its silence, each step filled with unspoken words. At last, Shinobu broke it, her voice low, her words deliberate, as though each one was cut from her very soul. She spoke of regret, of the cruelty of her anger, of the terror that had driven her to wound you. She confessed it all, remorse raw and unguarded.

You had never seen her so vulnerable.

When she fell silent, waiting for your reply, her heart braced for rejection. But your voice, though hesitant, though heavy, betrayed you.

“I don’t know if I can survive another hurt like that,” you admitted, “but… gods, Shinobu, I want nothing more than to be near you again.”

Relief bloomed in her chest, so sharp it made her knees weak. She brought your hand to her lips, pressing soft kisses against your knuckles as though they were a vow.

“I’ll be better,” she whispered. “I promise you. Thank you… for giving me another chance.”

Her sigh carried all the weight of months of sorrow, finally released. And in that moment, Shinobu allowed herself to dream again, not of battles, not of grief, but of you. Of a future that refused to vanish into smoke. Of children with kind, beautiful souls, souls that could only ever come from you.

This time, she would not let the dream slip away.

Thank you for reading it! let me know what you think of this one. Please send requests🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

[noarawriteszr]

Shakky and her little helper welcome their first customers to Shakky's Rip-off Bar!

Shakky probably didn't know whose kid wandered into her bar and raided the fridge for some milk but when she found out it was Rocks' baby, she knew how to use this to her advantage. Her charm might not have worked on Rocks but her little helper definitely won him (and Newgate) over! ;D

(Shakky really must be an angel if she gets a smile out of Rocks and Newgate's serious kid. *lol*)

As always, I had to use the new chapter for my AU Rocks *lol* The second picture is a redraw of the heart eyes panel. X'D I still can't decide if I want witchy!Rocks to also have the markings on his face.

[noarawriteszr]

Whispers

Plot: Deceived by whispers, Alcina shatters the one soul she trusted most—only to realize too late the truth and that winning her back may take more than a lifetime.

(Part II is here!)

Alcina x fem!reader

A/N: Hello sweet people! how are you?😽

I've been really creative lately! Tonight, I'm trying out writing in a more angst vibe. Let me know what you think, hihi

Unfortunately, soon I won't have the time to write anything :( I hate my job, arghhh

But enjoy this and send requests🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

It was a cold winter night when Alcina sat alone, her head buried in her hands, long fingers trembling against her temples as if she could crush the ache blooming there. Tension coiled in her chest, searing and relentless, as though fire itself had licked across her pale skin. A few hours earlier, she had overheard the whispers of the maids. Normally, such idle chatter meant nothing to her, a distraction she dismissed with ease—yet tonight it was different. Tonight, it was your name spilling from their venomous tongues.

You were not like the others.

For over two years, you had walked these echoing halls, a survivor where countless girls hadn’t lasted a week. Loyal. Efficient. A silent fixture in the castle that had become almost… necessary. To her. And though Alcina would never voice it, you were no mere servant. You were a shadow stitched too tightly into her daily life. A presence that drew her eyes without command, a mystery she longed to unravel.

Yet the whispers struck her like a blade.

“That girl thinks she can lie to anyone.”

“It’s obvious! she’s only close to the Lady to use her for her own gain. Maybe she’s even planning an escape.”

“She never speaks of herself. I wouldn’t doubt it.”

The words echoed, cruel and sharp, long after the maids had scurried away. Alcina’s breath caught painfully in her throat, her back stiffening as though the air itself had betrayed her. She had stormed to her chambers, the hem of her gown dragging like a shroud behind her.

She told herself she did not believe them. She couldn’t. Yet—gods, it made sense, didn’t it? You, with your carefully guarded silence, your refusal to answer even Daniela’s sweetest probing questions. Always smiling politely, always shifting the subject when the conversation grazed too close to your past.

Her golden eyes burned with something raw and unsteady. Trust had never come easily to Alcina Dimitrescu… and now it trembled in her grasp like glass ready to shatter.

The next day came far too quickly. Alcina had not slept, not even for a breath of a moment. Her mind gnawed at itself in restless loops, and when dawn painted the castle windows in silver light, her humor was as sharp and cruel as broken glass. She had debated with herself, pacing the length of her chambers, but in the end, her conclusion was bitter and absolute: you had to be punished. Punished for daring to play with her family’s feelings, for daring to weave yourself into her heart only to betray it.

Her footsteps echoed with purpose as she sought you out, the stone corridors trembling beneath her weight. It felt almost destined that she should find you alone, bent over your duties in the library, delicate hands dusting ancient tomes.

You turned at the sound of her arrival, unaware of the storm darkening her gaze. Your smile was soft, genuine, as though nothing in the world had shifted.

“My Lady, good morning. Did you sleep well?”

The sweetness of your voice tangled with the fury in her chest, confusing her heart for half a second, but she crushed the feeling before it could bloom. Dimitrescus did not falter. She would not be fooled again.

“Good morning, pet” Alcina’s lips curved into a smile that tasted of venom. “I slept just fine. Though I found myself wondering… don’t you think it foolish, little rat, to imagine you could hide from my eyes? To think you could betray me under my very roof?”

Her words, laced with venom, made you stiffen. Your brows knitted, confusion sparking in your eyes.

“M-my lady… what happened? Did someone try to escape again?”

That single innocent question, fragile, trembling snapped what little patience Alcina had left. In a blur, her claws raked across your arm. Blood blossomed instantly, spilling scarlet down your sleeve. Your body jolted, eyes wide, trembling as though the very air had betrayed you.

“I will let you live” Alcina growled, voice low and vicious, “so you remember for the rest of your miserable life the price of daring to deceive me.”

And then came the storm. Her claws, her words, her rage, all of it raining upon you until the stone floor drank your blood. You hardly screamed; only soft, broken sounds slipped past your lips. Tears streaked your cheeks as your voice cracked out one single, trembling question:

“W-why?”

Her golden eyes burned with false certainty. “Don’t you think I know, pet? Your little plans to escape. Such a shame… I thought you were smarter.”

Hours bled away in cruelty before Bela stumbled in, her face blanching at the sight. Her voice shook as she said, “M-Mother… you’re mistaken. The two rats Cassandra caught today confessed.. they thought you’d be distracted punishing Y/N. It was a trick. She… she’s innocent.”

The word struck Alcina like a dagger to the ribs. Innocent.

Her claws retracted instantly, her eyes wide, her throat tight as she looked at your broken body slumped on the floor. The sight hollowed her. Guilt surged through her in suffocating waves until she could hardly breathe. She reached out with trembling hands, hands stained with your blood, with her crime and whispered frantically, “Bella, fetch the doctor. Now.”

Scooping you into her arms, Alcina moved faster than she ever had before, her composure shattered. Your blood seeped into her gown, and she did not care. Tears stung her golden eyes, hot and heavy, threatening to fall as she laid you down to be treated. For the first time in decades, she felt like the monster the world accused her of being. But never—not to you. Not you.

Days crawled by. Alcina never left your bedside as the doctor worked, her gaze haunted by the scars she herself had carved into you. When your skin knit back together, it was marred, but nothing compared to the invisible wound she had carved into your soul. That wound terrified her most.

Two weeks passed before your eyes finally fluttered open. Relief nearly dropped Alcina to her knees, but it curdled quickly when she saw it: the way you looked at her now, as though she were a stranger cloaked in shadows. When the doctor released you to resume light work, you moved through the castle like a ghost.

You were different. Untouchable.

You built walls, so cold, polite, impenetrable. You greeted her with the same words you once used, but there was no warmth in them now. You treated her daughters the same way, their laughter crumbling under the weight of your sharp, distant responses. Alcina’s heart cracked when she found Cassandra crying quietly after yet another failed attempt to draw out your old kindness.

The consequences of her cruelty had rippled outward, poisoning even what her daughters adored the most.

One evening, Alcina found you in the kitchen, your hands steady as you prepared the tea tray, though the sharp breath you drew told her you had noticed her presence.

“Dear,” she began softly, her voice trembling with regret,“I need to speak with you.”

“Yes, my lady.”

Polite. Distant. Terrified.

Your body stiffened, shoulders squared as though bracing for another strike. Alcina felt the urge to claw herself open just to mirror the wounds she had left in you.

“I must apologize for that night,” she whispered, words cracking with sincerity. “The thought of you betraying me… it tore something inside me. You are the only one who has stayed so long, and I feared you would leave me too. But I was wrong. Gods, I was so wrong. I let my own fears blind me, and in my blindness I destroyed what I treasured most. I can not ask forgiveness. I do not deserve it. But I beg you, allow me the chance to try. Allow me to show you my human side. Allow me to prove I am worthy of your trust, no matter how long it takes.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears she no longer tried to hide. She wanted nothing more than to fall to her knees before you, to press her lips against your scarred hands, to beg until her throat bled. But you met her gaze with eyes filled with anguish.

“Something you said that night was true,” you murmured, voice thick with sorrow. “You told me you thought I was smarter. And you were right. I was stupid. Stupid to think you cared for me. Stupid to think your family could ever be my family. Stupid to think you weren’t a monster.”

Your tears fell, each drop carving into her heart sharper than her own claws ever could. “Please… just let me die in peace in this hell. That’s all I ask.”

You brushed past her trembling frame, leaving only silence in your wake.

And in that silence, Alcina broke. Sobs tore free, raw, and unrestrained, echoing off the kitchen walls. You were right. She was a monster. She had destroyed the only soul who had ever made her feel something beyond hunger and rage.

Yet even through the storm of her grief, a vow formed in her heart, unyielding, desperate, eternal.

She would beg. She would crawl. She would break herself on her knees if she had to. She would conquer time itself if it meant earning back your trust.

No matter how long it took, she would have you back.

Thank you for reading it🐻‍❄️ྀིྀི

[noarawriteszr]

writing a angst and feeling like this