#I missed being able to write like this XD

[chaoticspacefam]

There’s quite a few points in the Consular story where it’s honestly really hard for me to determine what Aria would do, and sometimes the answer is a WEIRD one. This bit on Taris is one of ‘em.

So, you’re offered a choice between saving this woman, Laria (Light-side) and saving the Jedi holocrons with a bunch of medical data that could save “thousands” of lives - supposedly (Dark-side). I always thought Aria would be the “pick to save the holocrons” gal but strangely enough after agonising on the decision for a few minutes....I ended up concluding she’d save Laria. NOT out of the goodness of her heart though (sorry Laria, I like you pfft🤣) but rather because, well...on one hand, Darth Noctis (her father) would certainly have interest/be invested in getting his hands on those holocrons full of information he might be able to eventually use to his advantage. But on the other...letting the holocrons explode means the Jedi don’t have access to them either. Considering Aria’s whole schtick is “sabotage the Jedi from the inside out so that by the time we hit Tython at the end it’s almost a clean sweep” I feel like objectively it makes sense for her to “choose” Laria over the holocrons in this instance.

It’ll be really interesting from my perspective to see where else in this story she ends up choosing the “Light-sided” dialogue options except in Subterfugeverse canon it will be entirely for fucked up and selfish reasons so, you know, objectively it is NOT a light-side choice at all for that reason. 🤣😛

[euphor1a]

hello! 🎧

Lissie hiii!! i’m sorry for taking like a decade to reply hdgjfjjgbfhj but here are a few songs that kinda remind me of your blog ^^

x

x

send me a 🎧 and i’ll assign your blog a song i like, based on the vibes/aes! <3

[if-loves]

etude op. 10 no. 4 (torrent)

// Yandere Dr Ratio

Sum: When the rain falls, so too does your tears.

wc: 3278

warnings: implied depression, suicidal thoughts, implied suicide attempt, ooc ratio probably

a/n: sorry for the disappearance LMAO uni was holding me by the neck and not in the way i enjoy

also this was a whole load of yapping ngl maybe i projected too much xd

also pls let me know if i missed any tags!! i’d hate to mistag/forget any cw tags

likes & reblogs are appreciated! asks are more than welcome ❤️

As a student with the honor of studying directly under the one and only Veritas Ratio, you’re more than used to the bluntness of his words and his marking. After all, he’s the Dr Veritas Ratio, arguably one of the most intelligent people, beings even, in the cosmos, and you’re just a mere academic. Sure, you’ve had your theories and whatnot, but compared to someone like Dr Ratio you’re basically a child.

Everyone tells you that you’re incredibly fortunate to be able to have someone as prestiged as him as your tutor, that you would take advantage of the opportunity and use it to further your own studies and knowledge, but you’re not quite sure if furthering your studies is truly what you desire. Coming to university was already an expectation from your parents, who in their right mind would reject them when they’ve already saved all that money exclusively for your studies?

You don’t think yourself to be especially smart or gifted in anything. To yourself, you are just a regular person who will go on to graduate, find a job, and maybe settle down if you were given the chance. You don’t expect much for and from yourself.

However, Dr Ratio clearly seems to think otherwise; or else why would he choose you of all people to be under his tutelage?

It has been almost twelve cycles of the moon, and you have yet to figure out why. The agreed period of mentoring is coming to its end, and he expects a full length thesis and three separate reports from you concerning your studies and experience under him, and you cannot for the life of you think of anything that could ever satisfy him. In the whole period of his guidance, he has never once scored you above a low thirties. The more it happened, the more you thought it was more of a him issue than yours - but that’s what people who can’t take criticism say, so perhaps you’ll refrain from thinking that thought.

The sun had long set, leaving your side of the planet at the mercy of the night. In front of you, a too-bright screen from your laptop glares at you with a blank page, as if demanding you finally do something instead of staring out of the window wistfully as if you were some widow lamenting the loss of her husband.

It takes you everything not to just give up and curl up in the warmth of your bed.

With the nth sigh of the day, you woefully start typing, frustration in the pits of your mind. What in the world could you even write about, anyway? The spinning of the sun? No, you’re sure there’s thousands of papers written about that, similarly for the moon; you’re not one for mathematics either, so that was out of the question. Science isn’t really your forte either, so your options for a paper that would gain Dr Ratio’s approval is about zero. Maybe you should just drop out.

When the world is asleep, you remain awake, and so too does something else.

~~~

There are still a few days left before your thesis and reports are to be submitted, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve written utter nonsense.

What in the world are you talking about? Even you didn’t know. Something about some mythicised substance known as Xuixzedlm, that’s apparently supposed to be what the deep oceans of your world is made of, but none have been able to explore said oceans due to their size, toxicity and the creatures lurking beneath its surface. In fact, almost 99% of the oceans have remained unexplored.

You kind of regret choosing such a substance to be the main part of your thesis, considering how little information there is of it. Sure, the main point of a thesis is to propose a theory to be proved, but for something like this where the research is extremely minimal, you’ve ended up circling back to your previous points due to the lack of ideas and, of course, proven research. Not that he’d care about your excuses.

Your days leading up to the submission date are spent typing, deleting, and referencing your paper. You’re a little less stressed about the report because it didn’t exactly require the same thinking as a thesis did, so you managed to finish those in a week. You’d still need to proofread them a few more times to ensure grammar and whatnot was perfect, but ultimately, its priority was far lower on your list.

However, something odd has happened recently.

One evening when you had finally arrived back home after spending most of the day at one of the university’s libraries, you found a silver key with lilac purple highlights and a strange symbol in the middle. You’d asked your parents, but they hadn’t a clue either, leading to some concern that your room may have been broken into. There were a few off parts about that theory, some being that none of your belongings were missing, there was no evidence of lock tampering on your windows, and most of all, why said person would leave an expensive and important looking key on your table.

The sudden and suspicious appearance of the key led to you keeping it on your person at all times, for a reason you’re not exactly quite sure of other than because it felt right. There’s an inexplicable familiarity to it, as if it belongs to you, but you can never seem to recall where you’ve seen it before, if you ever have in the first place.

Another weird thing has been happening ever since you found the key - you’ve been feeling a strange desire to enter the toxic ocean.

The sounds of the waves splashing against the shore invites you in your dreams, and you always take a step forward, one step after another until the water almost touches your toes. The sun is setting upon you, the breeze gently blowing; the sight in front of you is the picture of ethereal. Just as you take one more step, just as you fall into the abyss, someone pulls you back and you are jolted awake.

Scholars say dreams are the subconscious taking its turn, toying with fantasies and fears indiscriminately. Sometimes they mix, giving birth to hopes that only end in hopelessness, happiness that only ends in despair. If this is true, does your subconscious desire death?

~~~

Veritas Ratio has always thought himself as logical. Most have thought the same of him as well, the rest thinking him some sharp-tongued snake that will not hesitate to bite them should he see fit.

When it comes to you however, he feels an unexplainable feeling in his chest and head, a desire that has only grown since the moment he chose you to be under his guidance for a year. His harshness may not reflect it, but it is merely his way of showing he cares - by being extra critical of your work so that you know how to improve. Veritas Ratio truly wants nothing but the best for a student like you.

Lately, this feeling has grown much in size and desire, leaving him finding trouble in resisting it. It lingers like a persistent headache, and acts up when you are around, leaving him in a constant battle for retention of sanity. His mental fortitude currently leaves him with the upper hand, but who knows for how long.

For someone who prides themself on being logical, he sure feels illogical as he stares at your student ID photo.

It’s one of your least flattering pictures he’s sure, but he finds himself staring at it all the same. The nuisance in his head keeps telling him frankly worrisome thoughts, but he feels no desire to act upon them… at least, the sane part of him doesn’t.

He knows there’s something special about you, and some selfish part of him doesn’t want this mentorship to end, to let you go. There’s no way of being able to guarantee ever seeing you again, so what if…

No. Irrationality has no place in his ideals, let alone in his life.

~~~

You’ve submitted your thesis and reports to him, and now you sit in front of him with your heart pounding in your chest. Is there anything scarier than the judgment of your teacher?

Your hands are laid on your lap, the key in your pocket. The coldness of it transcends the fabric of your pants, a constant reminder of the mystery it holds, and the thoughts it brings. Even now, you find your heart yearning for the sea.

You’re afraid to look at him. You’re afraid of what his expression could tell you, of the disapproval you’re expecting. You’re afraid of disappointing him once again, afraid of his rejection and the harsh words that will inevitably leave his lips. He will berate you once more, and you will be left to silently take it because truthfully, you know he’s right.

The silence continues, and you feel a sudden dizziness and the urge to throw up. You wish the sea would swallow you whole.

“I do not have enough time to finish reviewing everything today, so proper feedback will be given one week from now in person. As for the next few days, they shall continue as normal, as you are still under my tutelage. Do not forget, you still have readings to finish before tomorrow’s class.” He shuts his laptop and takes his alabaster head with him, once again leaving you to drown in the torrent of self-deprecation.

The sea embraces all, doesn’t it? It will lap up all those who dare to offer it their lives, no matter what achievements the person has made in their life, no matter if they are even a person at all. The sea… welcomes all.

(It’ll welcome you, right?)

~~~

After you left the university, you found yourself on the train to the beach. Night is upon the city, but the ocean doesn’t sleep.

People filter out of the trains one by one, until only you are left in the carriage. Announcement after announcement of stops and the sound of the train’s wheels scraping the tracks below it are the only disturbances in the otherwise peaceful silence. Despite the quietness, you cannot hear yourself. The key in your pocket feels like it is burning itself into your skin, but it is also the only thing keeping you awake, a reminder that you are still alive.

You wonder if the ocean too will eat the key, or if it will sink into its depths. Will you sink to the depths?

The train stops at its end, and your legs automatically move. You walk until you hear the sound of waves crashing onto the shore, until you are stopped by a barrier. In an act of madness (or is it desire?), you scale the wall until there is no more to scale, until you see the other side.

There is a certain beauty about the ocean that you can’t quite describe to anyone, that pictures cannot replicate. It brings you a sense of peace, like all will be right in the world. If you could just…

The jump down from the barrier is no easy task. It is a long way down, and the sand can only soften the drop so much; yet, you jump.

Something hurts, but you’re enamored by the sparkling surface of the water. It beckons you, inviting you to a new world beneath its surface, a place to be free of all worries and pains. A place to sleep peacefully, no nightmares or dreams to plague you. It offers you everything the world cannot.

You feel your bag drop off your shoulders, like a weight lifted. A hand takes the key out, holding it tightly as you walk towards the promise of a home. What mysteries will be answered by this new world?

You’d like to apologize to your parents for the disappointment that you are. You had neither the mental fortitude nor the drive to be a success, and you’d like to apologize to Dr Ratio for wasting a year’s worth of his time on an incompetent student like you. His time would have been better spent on honor students, not a mundane, average student like you. You are destined to be just another cog in the wheel, and once you rust, you will be thrown out just like everyone else has and will be.

You find yourself a step away from the water, just like in your dream. You think you see a door. The key in your hand burns hotter. The world pauses. You take a step.

The feeling of the liquid never comes, but being pulled does.

“Just what in the universe are you thinking?!” This voice… is familiar. This voice… Who is it? It can’t be Dr Ratio, no…

But those amber eyes, so familiar, it has to be…

But why? Why?

“I…” Words fail you, just like they always have. What could you possibly say to him? He must think you mad, unfit to graduate, unfit to live perhaps.

“Do you wish to be swallowed by the gaping abyss? For what? To prove the existence of Xuixzedlm? Do you think your life so worthless that you think sacrificing it for nothing is what will make it meaningful?!” He is… angry. You’ve never seen him like this. Dr Ratio doesn’t get angry. “So? Say something, anything, that could possibly help me understand why you’d attempt such an act of foolishness!”

“Why does it matter to you?!” You shout, wringing your arm free from his tight grip. He has pulled you far enough from the gentle ocean, far away from the door. You look back at it, and it remains floating above the water. The key is still in your hand.

“Are you so dull that you need to ask such a useless question?” He scoffs. He moves to grab your arm again, but you instinctively bring the hand holding the key to your chest, afraid that he would take it from you. His eyes, shades of intense amber, follow your hand and lock on to the key you hold. He frowns.

“Yes! Yes, I am! I am so utterly stupid that teaching me is a waste of time, that you should leave me alone! If… if I wasn’t here, then there’d be one less stupid person in the universe! Isn’t that what you want?” Are tears running down your face, or is the sky weeping on your behalf?

He stares at you, and his lips do not move. It goes on like this, until you are both drenched in the rain, clothes wet and only the tempting sound of the ocean, and the pitter-patter of raindrops blending into the dark waters. Moonlight briefly shines upon the both of you, and you see his face clear - there is no anger, only contemplation.

“If you have nothing more to say, then leave me alone.” You turn around and set your sights upon the floating door once more, the key still held to your heart. With a resolved mind, you once more walk towards the beckoning arms of the abyss, the promise of no tomorrow.

Dr Ratio doesn’t stop you until you are one foot in the water. There is a searing pain, but you are one step closer to the door, to a stagnancy that life could never offer you. You are one foot in the water when a familiar symbol appears on the door, like an eye staring at you. You are one foot out of the water when you realize what it is.

“You have lost your mind.” He says, pointedly. You struggle in his grip, but he doesn’t falter. If anything, his hold only tightens. The pain from the water is nothing compared to the pain of losing freedom.

“Let- me- GO!” You desperately push against his chest, legs swinging. Why couldn’t he just let you go? Why did he care so much? What value do you bring to him, other than more evidence that he is far more blessed than the rest of the universe ever could be?

“Struggling will do you no good. Stay still, and I would not have to restrain you like this.” He glares at you from the corner of his eye as he brings you further away from your salvation, and the final straw is when he wrestles the key out of your hand. You’re inconsolable as he takes you past the barrier, brings you to his vehicle, and takes you to the place you can only assume is his apartment.

You let him guide you to the bath and clean your injured foot with a gentleness that is unbecoming of him, and he runs you a bath all while you grieve. Both of you say nothing as he treats you like a child, and you let him bind you to the bedpost without any struggle. To struggle is to fight, to fight is to have a desire to spread your wings; you lost that the moment he took you away.

Dr Ratio, or rather Veritas as he insists you call him, has shown you such a different side of him that you don’t know what to make of it. He holds you at night like you’re lovers, kisses you like he means it. He dutifully takes care of you, and you do not respond in kind. Despite this, he treats you all the same, with no trace of the Dr Ratio you’ve known for the last year, and only of the Veritas that you’ve met ever since that night.

You never see the key again.

~~~

One day, he has packed up everything. You briefly wonder if this meant that he’d be leaving you behind, but to your disappointment, he brings you along. He has cuffed you to himself, a reminder of the rights you have lost when you let him have his way with you.

“Veritas,” his name tastes like poison. “Where are we going?”

“The IPC has assigned me to Penacony, the land of dreams.” He responds without hesitation, turning to face you. “Naturally, you’ll be coming with me.”

You want to say no. You want him to leave you here, to give you back your key, to bring you back to the sea. The scar on your foot is a reminder of what could’ve been, what he has taken from you, and you haven’t - or rather, will never - forgive him. He will never deserve your forgiveness.

“Have… have you told my family?” You whisper, your throat as dry as the sand on the beach. Your hands fidget, and you find yourself unable to look at him; but truthfully, you don’t need to. He has ensured that every part of him has been engraved into the depths of your brain, and carved into your heart.

“…There is no point dwelling on the past. I am your family now. Clinging to such bygones will only serve to erode your mind, and limit your ability to live life.” He is firm, sounding more like the Dr Ratio you knew. He holds the hand that he has chained to his own and brings it to lips, the band of silver gleaming in the sunlight. It is a reminder. A firm, cruel, reminder of who he really is.

Veritas Ratio is nothing more than an illogical, selfish, arrogant, cruel and lovesick beast who allowed his heart (if you could even call it that) to take the reins.

Veritas Ratio is nothing more than a liar.

[miam0re]

y’all… :(:(:(:(:( i ain’t never do a request before *shakes my glass of ice around* but…

student council president! scaramouche who is in love with gender neutral troublemaker! reader :D

you in his office cus you be committing crimes in school and he thinks expelling or suspending you is too boring so he decides you need “punishment”

he has you sitting on his lap pinching your nipples really hard until you’re crying and whining and tells you how much of a good student you can be but degrades you with his soft honeyed voice for being so disobedient. he’s always edging you too (you dint deserve his cock or fingers.., YET!)

only good students get rewards!! after weeks of being the top student in your class, joining clubs, and overall being nicer; he’ll have you in his house finally being able to date you after admiring for so long, he’ll dick you down real good… you’re his little doll (or whatever) so he’s gentle and praising but still so dominating

back arched , face in the pillow, moaning from overstimulation, but you’re his beautiful obedient lover so he’ll make you feel euphoric because he just loves you so much.. it hurts from how big he is but it’s better than your old “punishments”, WAYYYYYY BETTER!!

“isn’t it so nice being good?~”

Surprised what kind of school would make scaramouche the student council president like lmao that boy is probably the biggest bully in the school XD

(I usually don't write gender neutral reader stuff just in case I accidentally write some feminine terms so ye)

(and I struggled with a title so imma just name it student council president Scara X troublemaker reader)

NSFW, GN!Reader, nipple play, rough sex, more stuff i probably missed

The way he’d lick his fingers and pinch your nipples with his saliva-coated digits, the lubrication making you shiver at how dirty the scenario was. You- the infamous troublemaker- sitting on the lap of the student council president and…is he using scotch tape to keep your wrists tied behind your hand to prevent you from stopping him from punishing you the way he thinks you deserve?

But when you’re finally good, he’ll have your hole filled up with his thick cock, thrusting into you till your body shapes itself around the ridges of his dick. He’s taught you well to be obedient to every command he spits at you. You just love how he dominates you and presses his fingers harshly on your spine till your body curves. Bite the pillows, and scream into the sheets, you’ve earned an Earth-shattering orgasm for each A+ you got during your exams.

taglist: @stygianoir

[chiibinomonodamon]

WHO WANTS TO HEAR ME RAMBLE ABOUT GAY FURRY DEMON SEX? XD

(damn, there's a sentence I never thought I'd say....)

Okay...so I see some Stolitz confusion and bashing online and I need to type up a defense here because I won't be able to sleep otherwise lol

I consider myself to be a Ship Critic and someone who takes shipping rather seriously.

What I mean by this is, I like to analyze and break down romantic relationships between fictional characters because it's just interesting to write for me. I especially take delight in friendly debating with opinions that I strongly do *not* agree with.

Let me start off by saying I am NOT a "this ship is awesome because gay furry sex lol" type of girl.

FAR from it. I'm generally more passionate about hetero ships between human characters (because I can relate to them more) among other reasons. So if you wanna dismiss my defense as "shallow fangirlism", you can forget about that lame excuse.

I fell in love with Hazbin Hotel when it was finally released in February and suffered waiting for each new two-parts per week. During that time, I decided to watch Helluva Boss as well, after a friend showed me a particularly soul-crushing clip (Moxxie's childhood trauma about his mother).

Yes, I like funny sex jokes as much as the next goofy adult but scenes like this, scenes that carry a very heavy emotional weight are what really get me in the end, even moreso when VERY little dialogue is exchanged. I knew I had to watch the entire episode run after seeing that the creators had a talent for this.

I saw people asking:

"How did Stolas go from using Blitz as a sex toy to being painfully in love with him?"

Oh I can tell you. I can tell you the EXACT moment this is revealed. But it's not spoon-fed to you; it's quite subtle actually and this is why lots of people miss it.

See, one of the strongest talents Vivenne has shown me is that she REALLY knows how to get her characters to communicate their feelings to the viewers JUST from their expressions and body language. These can be 'blink-and-miss-it' teeny little scenes and it may require a couple rewatches.

But since people demand time stamps for all information others post here, I'll rewatch a few scenes from S1 E7 'Ozzie's' as I'm typing this.

'Ozzie's' remains to be not just my favorite episode of HB...but probably my favorite episode of any adult-targeted animated show outside of Japan (aside from S2 E7's Mid-Season Special)

It has this huge reveal for both Blitzo and Stolas.

We'll first address Blitzo's irrational, stalkerish behavior of Moxxie and Millie.

He's obsessed with them. He finds both of them very attractive, fantasizes about threesomes with them and is constantly inserting himself into their personal lives.

Why?

Because they have everything that he badly badly wants for himself.

They have the perfect marriage and he is trying to live THROUGH them.

This was hilarious to me at the beginnning of the show but it's slowly revealed that it's one of the most tragic and depressing things I've ever seen. And it's scarily realistic too.

But you know this already so let's move on...

Blitzo follows the couple to Ozzie's but he can't get in without a date. So he calls up Stolas and yes, this is very low but he doesn't realize how much this means to Stolas (hell, I'm not sure even Stolas realizes it himself!) but the owl man is giddy with joy, he rushes over and they enter Ozzie's.

When Ozzie and Fizz mock Moxxie for being so sappy towards his wife, this strikes a chord with Blitzo (because they're his IDEAL relationship) and he speaks up to defend them.

NOW PAY CLOSE ATTENTION; THIS IS THE IMPORTANT PART:

Fizz, still holding onto his past grudge turns on Blitzo to humilate him:

"Some nerve you got commenting on a relationship"

Time Stamp: 11:37

As Fizz says "-ship", Blitzo VERY QUICKLY makes eye contact with Stolas who has a look of panic on his face. Blitzo is seeking VALIDATION from Stolas in this sharp, subtle second of screentime, as if to ask

"Well, ARE we in one?"

And then what happens next...Stolas remains silent, Blitzo's ex joins in to announce how selfish Blitzo was in bed with her, tearing him down further. Stolas stands up like he's going to put a stop to it but then Ozzie notices him and interrogates him about sleeping with Blitzo.

Blitzo looks incredibly ashamed and guilty as Stolas blushes with similar feelings...and hides his face behind his menu; HIS BIGGEST MISTAKE IN THE SERIES SO FAR.

Time Stamp: 12:24

The look on Blitzo's face as he grits his teeth and darts his eyes away basically says

"Yeah, I should have known...boy am I an idiot for trusting him to stand up for me".

(look how SHOCKED he is...wow, this hurts fr ;_;)

This is a silent betrayal on Stolas's part. Afterall, his reputation is on the line, so if he were to defend Blitzo, it confirms they are in fact, dating. He chose his pride over Blitzo and Blitzo is crushed by this betrayal.

Moxxie finishes his song and kisses his wife tenderly. Stolas watches this and also wants to have an affectionate moment with Blitzo (who is rightfully glaring daggers at him) and tries to reach for his hand.

Blitzo rejects his touch and suggests they leave. As they do, Blitzo still looks furious and hurt. Stolas is now realizing how badly he screwed up with a "What have I done?" face (13:41)

He even looks disappointed with himself.

After Blitzo drops Stolas off, he thanks him and tries to smooth over the awkwardness with sweet talk but Blitzo just rolls his eyes in disgust and pulls on his face like "I don't want to hear this bullshit".

He responds coldly and curtly, "Yeah." Stolas makes more suggestions to spend time with him, which just makes him even angrier and he snaps

"I'm not fucking you tonight, okay!

I'm really just..." (14:28)

he pauses to wipe a tear because at this point he can barely hold it together (top notch voice acting and animation directing btw)

"...not in the mood, Stolas."

Stolas still tries to talk him into doing couple things unrelated to sex.

Blitzo's face switches back to anger and frustration because Stolas isn't getting the message so he goes for the blunt tactic;

"Stolas, don't act like what we have is anything but YOU wanting ME to fuck you, okay?"

(14:42)

"You make that really clear all the time."

(again his voice sounds like he's about to break down)

"But I-I just can't do it tonight, okay?"

(Finally meets his eye)

"...I'm sorry."

I believe this is code for "I'm sorry we're even in this situation and how your reputation got damaged. " Or, more painfully, "I'm sorry I'm such an embarrassment to you".

Stolas replies "Okay" and takes a deep breath to compose himself. They say goodnight and depart.

An important note here is that Stolas calls him "Blitzo" instead of "Blitzy" to show more respect.

As Blitzo zooms away coldly, Stolas looks up at the sky with tears in his eyes, surprised at how much it hurts.

He then sits down with his head in his hands in anguish...because he's getting that

"Oh...no. These feelings are real" epiphany.

And as if this wasn't enough angst, Blitzo collapses onto his couch at home, goes through the memories on his phone and starts sobbing.

I'm going to be real with you; this is the most heart-breaking shit I have ever seen in an adult show of this type. It's also the first time a show of this type got me to cry.

The last six minutes have revealed so much information without spoonfeeding it to the audience because the show RESPECTS its audience.

To recap:

*Blitzo takes Stolas on a first official date to use him

*Stolas is extremely happy about it

*Blitzo gets humilated and looks to Stolas for validation

*Stolas betrays him and breaks his heart

*Blitzo snaps that their relationship is nothing more than lust-driven sex

*Stolas realizes he's actually in love with Blitzo and it's a huge problem because (he believes) that it's unrequited.

*Blitzo breaks down because the ONE person whom he thought would protect him didn't do so.

So these two are convinced that neither one loves the other...while the irony is, it's quite the opposite.

Because if Blitzo REALLY didn't feel anything towards Stolas, he would not have gotten this emotional.

Yes, they are both lonely...but I really don't think that's all there is between them.

So..........we know WHEN they started falling...now the question is why;

I think the answer's quite simple; single-target affection.

It was mentioned in S2 that Stolas and Stella did sleep together ONE TIME...but Stolas didn't enjoy it at all. He is stuck with a wife who hates him so much that she put a HIT on him...and a daughter who thinks he's a loser. Blitzo is pretty much the one person in his life who is able to make him happy. That one small, bright spot. He enjoys the sex with him but he also simply enjoys his company, as shown in Ozzie's episode. He is thrilled to simply talk to him about his day...and do anything else that couples do. They're complete opposites. Stolas is an intellectual but naive and sheltered. Blitzo is poorly educated but cynical and street-smart. Opposites attract...though this is likely more from Stolas's POV than Blitzo's.

In other words, Stolas is into bad boys xD lmao

In Blitzo's case, Stolas is the only character who shows him physical affection which he desperately craves. He's pretty tsundere about it most of the time...but I think he actually does enjoy that attention...especially when he's always getting disrespected by Moxxie and Loona..and quite a lot of people around him. BUT he's too scared to get serious with anyone because of past trauma and he also believes that no one could possibly love him as a person. :(

Reasons I Think This Love is Real

Aside from what I pointed out in the Ozzie's episode...there's quite a lot of evidence, esp from Stolas's POV.

After he realizes he's in love, he goes to Asomodeous for an ALTERNATIVE method for Blitzo to use so they will no longer sleep together. He wants to set Blitzo free. Which means he DOES truly love him because love is about being generous to the other person. He COULD be totally selfish about it but he isn't.

Asomodeous mentions how against love potions he is and Stolas agrees. He thinks that's out of the question.

'Look My Way' music video. Lol I don't have to say anything more.

In S2 E6 OOPS

This exchange at 16:57

Fizz: Seems your taste has gotten more 'regal', lately?

Blitz: Yeah, well unlike you, I fuck who I want WHEN I want. I'm not gonna be tied down to some big blue-blood asshole.

Fizz: You coulda fooled me the way Prince was cozying up to you at Ozzie's.

Blitz (gets very defensive) HEY! Stolas only cares about have a rugged peasant raw-dog him into his mattress, okay!

It's nothing...(gets hesistant and looks away)...you know...

(Fizz gives him a 'bitch please' look xD)

"it's nothing else."

Fizz: Then why were you even there?

Blitz: OTHER very important reasons of course.

Fizz: Whatever. I don't actually care.

Blitz: Stolas is just a loud, thirsty BITCH!

(Fizz is rolling his eyes again)

Blitz: He loves feeling the thrill of getting dicked by the lower class.

It's a novelty to him.

Fizz: LITERALLY just said I don't care!

Blitz: And then he'll call me and try to see how my day was!

And he'll pretend to care about me and comment on my photos laugh at my jokes...

Fizz: (Smirking) OH! That's definitely your clue right there that it's all bullshit!

Blitz: I KNOW, RIGHT??

Fizz: (Making a 'What in idiot' expression, shaking his head)

Blitz: HE'S JUST A FAKE, PRIVELEDGED ASSHOLE...

Fizz: Sounds like you just hate him for being a prince!

No one (laughs) and I mean NO ONE pretends to care that much just for a cheap lay.

All right. IF ANYONE knows what real love is like, it's Fizzaroli...who is in a very HEALTHY relationship with Asomodeous. He recognizes the signs because he's IN that place. He sees it...and he's annoyed that Blitzo keeps denying it and brushing it off...yet clearly can NOT stop talking about Stolas (amusing irony)

To sum up (this freaking essay lol) 'Stolitz' ABSOLUTELY has the potential to be pure and true...these two just need to communicate...or Stolas has to PROVE to Blitzo that he's serious about his feelings in another way.

There is no doubt that this ship is 100% endgame and is a case of the 'Earn Your Happy Ending' Trope. I look forward to the rest of the journey. Ron is putting my feelings about Stolitz in a perfect phrase:

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

The Jackass Guys Taking Care of You while you’re Sick HCs!

Johnny Knoxville X Fem!Reader, Chris Pontius X Fem!Reader, Steve-O X Fem!Reader, Bam Margera X Fem!Reader, Ryan Dunn X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of illness, pet names (ie. darlin’), alcohol

An: While writing this, I was actually bed bound for two days to to a nasty respiratory illness, so I think you could guess where my inspiration came from XD Ironically enough, in between writing this and coming out I got sick again. Boy, what an immune system I have! I get sick frequently and one thing I can always count on making me feel better is writing about the guys :)

You had no appetite, you could barely leave your bed, and you had a temperature of 101.9. Yep, with how sick you were, there was no way you’d be able to go to work.

So you called your boyfriend to help take care of you

Johnny

“Oh, darlin’…”

You were in sore shape, and like the amazing boyfriend he was, Johnny went to helping you feel better right away!

Really, he missed his calling as a doctor or nurse with how sweet and considerate he is to you

Helping you out of bed if you’re weak on your feet and to the shower, assuring you how much better you’ll feel after you get a lil’ steam in your system <3

And after you get out, he’d sit behind you and gently comb/brush our hair for you, no matter how many times you mumbled to him that yes, you were sick, but you could take care of your basic needs yourself

But you secretly enjoyed being babied by him

If you couldn’t stomach much, he’d bring you some warm tea and fruit with a kiss on the forehead before he went to set up the humidifier

When Robitussin and NyQuill weren’t making a dent in your fever, Johnny got a little creative,

“If it doesn’t make you better, you’ll forget you were sick in the first place!” He explained, handing you the mug of hot water, lemon, and a splash of bourbon

A hot toddy, he told you it was called, something his mama used to give him when he was sick at home

And that thing worked.

Your eyes were falling close as you murmured, half asleep already,

“Thank you, Dr. Knoxville…”

Bam

“You look like shit.”

Lack of bedside manner aside, he is probably the last person you want taking care of you while you’re sick.

“Well thanks, Bam- I feel like shit.”

Feeling a little bad for you he asked if you needed anything

So you asked for something to eat- maybe soup and warm tea?

But all you received was an uncrustqble (which you bought because bam doesn’t like the crusts on his sandwiches) and a bottle of water lobbed onto your bed from the doorway.

“D’you think you could grab me some tissues too?”

With a groan, Bam disappeared into the bathroom before you heard all this thudding and an exasperated, “Fuck!”

Before he emerged with a roll of toilet paper.

Sure, maybe he wasn’t Florence Nightingale, but he did what you asked and you honestly didn’t even expect this much from him

He mumbled, disticnt affectionate tone in his voice as a smile crept onto his face as he walked by your bedside to ruffle your hair a little,

“You’re a real pain in the ass, Y/N.”

Chris

“Time for your sponge bath!”

Chris is a firm believer in the fact that laughter is the best medicine

So that’s why he walked into your room wearing one of those sexy nurse outfits.

And while you appreciated the sentiment, you didn’t really need the sponge bath

You also didn’t need the rectal thermometer he proudly offered to you,

“Time to take your temperature! Roll over!” He chuckled that sweet stoner laugh of his, “Kidding, kidding- it’s one’a the normal ones.”

Or when Chris pretended to “accidentally” drop said thermometer next to your bed and bend over to pick it up with his ass in full veiw.

Soon, you began to recognize the click clack of cherry red high heels as the sounds of Nurse Pontius,

And you’d come to anticipate his spectacular bedside manner ;)

In fact, this whole ordeal just left you more endeared to him

Yes, even when he asked to warm your boobies up because in his words, they looked really cold.

“You know, your probably the best nurse I’ve ever had.”

Steve-O

“What’s goin’ on?”

He stumbled into your room, having kind of forgotten why you called him,

Steve isn’t so much of a caregiver as he is a heating pad

But damn it if he isn’t a good heating pad

He’d just walk into the room and lay down next to you, all warm and cozy- a heaven for your shivering, sick body

Despite how nice it felt to cling to him, he isn’t much help besides that given the fact he fell asleep five minutes ago (not that you noticed)

“Hey, do you think you could grab me some-“ Yep. Out cold

So you had to tear yourself from the comfort of your bed to make yourself soup

And when you return, all shivering as you slip back under the covers,

Of course that’s when he wakes up.

You had already started eating when Steve took the bowl from where it was resting on your lap to steal a few bites himself

When you pointed out that he just used the same spoon you did (and would probably get sick too), he just shrugged,

“So what? I don’t care.”

Ryan

“Are you dead yet?”

While there was an unmistakeable tone of sarcasm in Ryan’s voice, he really was concerned

Out of all the guys, he would be the one to get worried sick (no pun intended) about his ill girlfriend :(

But he played it off well, saying that he didn’t have anything to do that weekend despite canceling plans with Bam to look over you

So he might as well sit by your bedside to make sure you’re okay!

Or that he just conveniently rented all of your favorite movies because he wanted to watch them, but you’re free to join him if you wanna watch

And, despite your warnings that you’ll get him sick, he’d have no problem with laying down next to you if you can’t sleep

Because that’s what the two of you usually do! No reason to break routine because of a stupid cold.

“C’mon! With you shiverin’ like that, how could I not? It’s like seein’ a kitten out in the rain…”

[impyssadobsessions]

DPxDC Ficlet/Snippet Pen Pals

I had to write it out a bit XD My head still swarming with the idea. >w<

Damian made it to his room. Part of him wanting to collapse on his bed and sleep in, despite how childish that seemed. Another part eyed the envelope Alfred had left on his nightstand. He had almost forgotten about his Pen Pal. Daniel Fenton. Damian snorted, despite neither one of them giving out their real names, Daniel wasn't hard to find. Last year as a safety protocol, he had located the recipient of his letters and found out everything he could. A boy his age, fourteen now-thirteen then, with physical features that would mistake him for his brother. His siblings teased he had found his own sibling this time, which was not the case! Daniel had a family, two researchers of the paranormal and an older sister. Besides his parents strange profession, Daniel was an average teenager. One, Damian would think would bore or infuriate him- he did infuriate him actually, but instead he was interesting to talk to. Most of their letters were nothing more than small talk. They share their aggravation of their older siblings. Apparently, his older sister was very nagging as he put it. However, when Damian discretely mentioned his own, Daniel did suggest quite a successful prank to pull on them. Other letters, were more helpful and meaningful. Being miles and states away, the average boy was able to call Damian out without a qualm and give comfort without being asked. Only after talking with Daniel, did Damian ever wonder what it would be like to grow up in an average home. Damian grabbed the letter from the bedside table, opening it up. He could at least look at it before bed, and think of a reply tomorrow. He would never admit, but he had missed writing to his Pen Pal. Daniel mentioned struggling in school last he heard from him. Which was odd, as his grades were above average before. Maybe he should check into his school, again. It wouldn't hurt to update his profile- Damian's eyes widened once he unfurled the sticky letter from itself. The paper was filled with his friend's penmanship, blurred and feather from being exposed to moisture. However, that is not what made Damian hold his breath. It was the glowing green stain smeared across the page over Danny's signature. It couldn't be. Why would... Inspecting closer, Damian saw blood like material in the green. It was red, as if the green substance was keeping it fresh. Like... Damian furrowed his brows and ran out the room with letter in hand. He was going to get to the bottom of this. He was going to find out what happened to Daniel James Fenton.

[lightlycareless]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8K3KxtG/

I feel like if this happened to Naoya after he let his hair go natural he’d probably be booking an appointment to the salon that day XD

Heya anon!!!

OMG HAHAHAHAHAHAH I love how we all agree that Naoya dyeing his hair black once his roots show (or just not dyeing it at all) is like a bad idea lmao. Just like the top comment said, it was the only thing keeping the family together 😂😂😂😂

Anyways, this was such a treat to write. I'm always down for domestic yn/naoya shenanigans + our adorable naomi!!!!

warnings: none. fluff. naoya regrets his life. lol.

Happy reading!!!

Naoya deciding to dye his hair completely black wasn’t one that he chose personally, it was simply… a consequence of his surroundings.

He’d been out on missions for too long, that his dye naturally began to fade out, showing his dark roots and prompting him with the idea of…

“All black?” you ask; both were on videocall when he suggested the idea—Naoya stationed in some remote village he was deployed in, still days away from returning. “I haven’t seen you wear that look since… forever I think.”

“Naomi definitely hasn’t seen me like that.” He comments, and at the revelation, you gasp.

“Oh my god, that is true!” you smile. “Do you think she’ll notice? I don’t think so, she’s still pretty young… Though I know she’ll be happy to see her handsome papa again! Black hair, or not.”

Naoya smiles.

“I can’t wait to come back home either; it’s been horrible without my two princesses.”

“Well, hurry back! We’re tired of waiting for you…”

Naoya takes it seriously when you tell him to hurry, quick to finish whatever mission he was in before catching the earliest flight back home, but not without making one last stop; he usually dyed his hair by his own at that point, was considering so too…

But he wanted to make this a special surprise. It had been quite some time since he last mentioned it, so he’s sure you’ve probably forgotten about it by now, thus setting up the perfect opportunity to carry out his plans.

To say that he was excited about this whole ordeal was an understatement. Naoya was really looking forward to this change, and all because of one simple reason: Naomi’s reaction.

Ever since his little bundle of joy was born, life had become far more enjoyable, even with the littlest, most mundane of things. All had become a thrilling adventure he couldn’t wait to share with his daughter.  

Naoya never thought he’d ever come to enjoy the wonders of being a father, always thought it to be tedious, boring. And most importantly, fated to be with someone he wouldn’t care for.

But then you happened, and with time, little Naomi, completely changing his perspective of life.

Whatever thing he did, the sight of his adorable baby girl would cross his mind, wondering what kind of reaction she’ll have for the new toy he’ll bring her after the mission, her cute babbles whenever telling her of his day, as if she knew what he was saying…

Or in this scenario, if Naomi would be able to recognize him after completely dyeing his hair black.

A part of him hopes—no, knows so, because he knows his baby girl to be very attentive, and there’s something sweet about a daughter being able to distinguish her father through all circumstances.

Luckily, he won’t have to wait much to get his answer, for as soon as his hair was done, he went straight back to the estate, not even bothering to let you know beforehand (just to add to the surprise), eventually making a beeline to you, quickly taking you in his arms before you could even muster a hello and kissing you—it’s only when he pulls away that you’re able to acknowledge him, and his new hairstyle.

“Naoya! You dyed your hair black!” you bubbled, threading your fingers into his locks to relish both its softness and nostalgic color. “And your home too!”

“I did.” He smiles, leaning in to steal another kiss. “I’m home.”

“Ah, I missed you so much.” You sigh, resting your head against his chest. “Please tell me you’re not leaving until much, much later.”

“2 weeks.” He says sorrowfully—it’s more than last time, but still…

“…Well, let’s not talk about that anymore—let’s focus instead on our time together, with our adorable baby who missed you so much!”

“Where is she?” Naoya asks with unparalleled enthusiasm. “Is she awake?”

“With my staff, and yes, she just woke up actually!” You say, grabbing his hand and guiding him back to your shared bedroom. “Let’s go, now—I want to see her reaction to your new hair color!”

Just as you foretold, little Naomi was happily enjoying the company of your loyal staff, Mariya, Haruko and Hitomi, who treated your adorable baby as she were their own niece, taking her wherever they could when you’d unfortunately end up caught up with duties, which Naomi didn’t mind, if anything, she was all to happy to be spoiled rotten (even more) by her aunts!

And how could she not? With all their gifts and antics, Naomi was nothing if not overjoyed to be the center of their attention!

Yet, nothing they did could ever compare t0 the happiness of seeing her father return home, the papa that you always made sure to remind her loved her very much, even through the distance that is often imposed by his job.

Once the family is reunited, your staff bids their regards to Naoya before leaving, allowing much needed privacy for the sweet moment that is to occur next. they leave to give them much needed privacy,

“Naomi!” Naoya says as soon as he laid eyes on his little bundle of joy, swooning when noticing the cute romper you’d dressed her up in, the same one he got her a few weeks ago: the yellow one with a little duck stitched in the front pocket. “My little mochi, I’m home!”

He reaches for her, extending his arms to pick her up and give her all the kisses and hugs he’s been holding onto since he left, completely forgetting about the reaction he so desperately wanted to see—

But the moment he does so, Naoya feels his baby tense up, a soft whine escaping her lips as her chubby little hands attempted to push him away, a reaction so different to her usually bubbly, welcoming personality, that his heart couldn’t help but shatter a bit in return.

“What’s wrong, dumpling?” He asks. “Did you miss me that much?”

“Nnngah!” Naomi cries as she attempts to push him away once more, but Naoya persists, that is, until a sharp wail makes him realize it was something graver.

“Naomi, why are you crying??” Naoya frets, attempting to comfort her by gently rocking her—to no avail. “Is it your diaper?? Or are you hungry??”

It takes you a few moments to understand what’s happening, but when you do, you’re not even able to laugh about it, too preoccupied instead in comforting your poor crying daughter, who was upset from innocently confusing her papa for Naobito’s son #27.

She shouldn’t be blamed—couldn’t. Naomi was still in the age where she has difficulties setting apart those that similarly look like her father, after all, like the rest of Naoya’s brothers.

Naomi was only able to calm down after you took her back into her arms, the only person she seemed to recognize at the moment, gently bouncing her until her cries eventually diminished.

But the damage was done, and as soon as your little mochi was placed back onto her crib, too tired out from crying, Naoya rushes straight to the exit, mind set on one thing:

“I’m dying my hair back blonde.”

“Naoya—It’s just a matter of her getting used to you!” you gasp, attempting to stop him. “You don’t need to do that!”

“I don’t want her to cry because of me ever again.” He insists. “I’ve already arranged the appointment; I’m heading out now. And while I’m at it, I’ll also buy Naomi more toys, hopefully she’ll be able to forgive me.”

“That won’t—” you wish to push the idea out of Naoya’s mind, tell him that perhaps he’s exaggerating, but you could see the sadness in his eyes, that notion that he genuinely believed needed this to feel better about himself.

So, you let him, giving him a kiss while asking him to not to do anything outrageous; Naoya’s spending could be quite… excessive when upset, you’d know that better than anyone. Although something tells you it might be worse now that Naomi is involved…

Nonetheless, by the time Naoya returns with his hair effectively back to blonde, Naomi is now able to identify him as her beloved papa, cheerfully reaching out for him to receive her well-deserved dosage kisses and hugs, as well as all the toys he brought along to ease his mistakes—it’s almost like that unspeakable incident never occurred! Much to Naoya’s delight.

And while upsetting at the moment, this is an anecdote you’d eventually recount with humor in the future, about the time Naomi didn’t recognize her father because of his hair dye, and how Naoya almost went to the end of the world to redeem himself.

Though both would deny it, of course. Thankfully, you have a good memory.

I'm sorry I had to call Naoya Naobito's son #27 but let's be real, they all look alike (In my hc that is) HOW COULD NAOMI NOT CONFUSE HIM? HAHAHAHAH Poor man, well, thankfully Naomi forgave him once he fixed his mistake :) you won't see Naoya with black hair anymore, though you'd come to regret not being able to "relieve the good ol days" 😳😳😳😳

Anyways, thank you sososos much for sending in this I LOVE DOMESTIC AU WITH NAOYA our redeemed little dork. Ah, I really needed this after last chapter's ordeal 😏 keep 'em coming 🤭

Now, take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[kymsys]

hiii i'm obsessed with your merman au!! if it's okay i totally let it take over my brain for a hot minute so ummm here's a little gift if you will accept it 👉👈 sorry to bother, i just HAD to write something dkfdl;fjg. your art is so gorgeous btw <33

--

After weeks of secretly housing Satoru in his private garden, Suguru had devised a way to safely return him to the ocean without being caught. He'd even relayed all the information about the kingdom's fishing system so Satoru would be able to steal the occasional fish without getting caught in the nets himself. He had to admit, he would miss having his little secret around. But he knew he couldn't keep Satoru cooped up forever. Satoru was a creature of adventure. He was probably tired of Suguru anway.

After a few attempts, Suguru successfully scooped Satoru up in his arms, Satoru wrapping his tail around his waist to stay up. His skin was cold to the touch. He teased Suguru as he clumsily navigated the path in the dark, even though he'd already walked it alone several times, and Suguru hated the way his heart stuttered at the siren's breath on his ear.

Really, Suguru should've done this much sooner. He should've released Satoru as soon as he realized he was falling for the creature. It was hard not to when it was in Satoru's nature to be enticing. Suguru let himself spend far too much time with him in the garden, let Satoru flutter his fingertips over his collarbones, let him beckon him closer and nibble on his ear playfully, let him lick the blood off his wrist when he got scratched up. He was never sure if Satoru was threatening him or flirting with him, never sure if it was all a game or if there was actually part of him that was interested in Suguru.

Suguru willed his mind to stop racing as he knelt down on the rocks and lowered Satoru into the water. Satoru immediately swam away and back, did a few turns and flips, gleefully splashing in his newfound freedom. Suguru smiled, heart tugging in his chest as Satoru slowly moved farther away. He was about to turn around when Satoru came back up to the edge of the rocks, resting his forearms on them and beaming up at Suguru.

"Care to join me?" He teased with a sharp grin. Suguru huffed out a laugh and shook his head.

"What, you're not dying to get away from me?" Suguru shot back, trying to keep his smile light even though it felt heavy on his face. Satoru pawed at his ankle and Suguru obliged without thinking, sitting and dipping his feet in the water, Satoru folding his arms atop his thighs.

"If you could breathe underwater, I'd drag you in here with me." His eyes practically glowed in the moonlight, a deceptively innocent smile curling at the corners of his perfect lips.

"You'd do that regardless." Suguru let himself give into the urge to push Satoru's hair off his forehead. It would probably be the last time anyway. Satoru's smile dropped the slightest bit.

"No." He reached up to touch Suguru's cheek, lightly stroking his cheekbone down to his jaw. "Not to you."

MANGO HOW DARE YOU WRITE SMTH SO BEAUTIFUL 😭😭😭 its amazing i love it so much HNGGGGG. THANK YOU?! thank you so much, i cant believe ppl love my merman au so much, thanks for this sweet gift and thanks for indulging with me 🥺 funnily enough @kingdomofred had also written that suguru took gojo out of the ocean into a pond. ARE WE ALL VIBING TOGETHER? it seems to be a thing for sure xD okay i have to dive a bit deeper into why i love your writing so much: the way that suguru isnt sure if gojo actually likes him or he is just acting accordingly to his siren behaviour?? it breaks my heart, its so bittersweet but yet i love it so much !! it fits so perfectly and i love the resolve at the end that yes ofc gojo likes him ; u ; ♥ . the image you described of suguru carrying gojo and the way gojos tail would lay around sugurus waist?? THAT IS SO FUCKING NICE?! definitely gonna put that on my to draw list !! and gojo nibbling on sugurus ears and licking his wounds and blood....fuck thats hot. i have no other words left. truely. THANK YOU MANGO IM IN LOVE 🥰(made my day)

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Holy moly, your last story had me feeling feelings.

The sentence about the unborn baby being jealous got me thinking tho, what if their kid inherited some of Donna's possessive traits, like always wanting to be by y/n's side, much to the chagrin of poor Donna, who hasn't been able to cuddle reader at night without a (sometimes two) little body wiggling into their bed. And as their daughter grows, she kinda sees Donna as a threat, someone who takes her moms attention away. Donna doesn't rightly know how to deal with the feeling of love for her child, and annoyance at not having reader for themselves.

UNTIL one day when reader and child is taking a walk through the forest, and a couple of men comes up and threatens them, only for mama Donna to turn up and rescue them. Both Donna and her daughter have a revelation that day: Donna from how scared she would be if anything happened to both her love and her child, and daughter from how she now sees Donna as her mama too, who would always protect and love her. And they make an unspoken pact about protecting reader always xD

You don't have to write this if you don't want to, I just got the mama Donna brainrot lol

Thanks for feeding us starving queers some quality Donna content

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your words, and for your request! I'm glad to read you enjoyed that one!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

A long road to motherhood

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna (implied), slightly dark themes, Donna's POV

Word count: 7,112

Summary: How I can be jealous of my own daughter?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! This is a sequel to this one!!! I love you all!!! :))

As they say, time heals wounds.

After almost losing you, after seeing how life became more and more distant from your sight, I was able to get you back.

A miracle, the sign that my sins were forgiven, I couldn't say what exactly it was. I have always thought that coincidence doesn’t exist, even when I met you, a bad deed that was rewarded, a trip to hell of having you immobile in a bed. I could never forget the two weeks when I almost lost you, when my whole world almost collapsed, because of me.

But no, life stopped torturing me, you woke up, you woke up wanting to make me feel good, to forgive me, to continue loving me as I didn't think you did.

If I had to keep a memory in my mind, only one, I would choose the moment in which I turned my head and saw your eyes open, your sweet look from that stretcher, life shining in your eyes again, looking at me.

I made an effort not to torture myself, to not let the nightmares make my nights impossible. It could be because I was still mentally ill, I couldn't separate myself from what life had given me, but I had to be strong. It was no longer you and me. There was someone, someone much more important to care for, someone to fight day and night for with my demons, with my jealousy, with my stupid and sick way of being: our daughter, Giovanna.

Born from my mistakes, from my pathological possessiveness, that girl represented everything pure that was missing in my life. My family, our family had been formed thanks to the biggest mistake of my life, thanks to that horrible afternoon in which I took what I thought was mine.

Luckily, the girl kept me away from your screams of terror, from the way you resisted my actions. Little by little I began to forget it, especially when I saw that childish smile in the girl's eyes. She had no hard feelings. If her birth was a mistake, it would be the best one in my life.

Maybe not the way she was conceived, but I could feel proud of the change that little Giovanna Beneviento made in our lives. I almost lost you because of my selfishness, but I got you back because... Well, I couldn't say why exactly. Maybe you forgave me, maybe you never could. I didn't know, with you it was impossible to know.

The years passed, the girl grew up and with her everything we had formed by chance, because of me, settled into routine, like a new way of living, of caring, of loving...

“Asleep,” you said amused, entering the bedroom, closing the door, wearing that smile on your face, the one I didn't think I deserved.

Luck smiles on the wicked, it smiled on me, the luck of having you, of having you and our daughter. I was not worthy of such honor, such light that had appeared in the darkness of my life.

“She’s alright?” I asked, getting under the covers. You nodded, motioning with your thumb, joining me.

“Yes, she's with Angie,” you answered, kissing me quickly. I frowned, with an amused look.

“That doesn't answer my question,” I whispered, kissing her shoulder, thanking with my lips that you never left, that all my flaws seemed like just an illusion to you.

“Well, I told her the story of the princess and the eel, it is her favorite,” you said with an interesting look. I shook my head, laughing at that attitude you had, that attitude that didn't disappear even in your worst moments. I didn't deserve you.

“The princess and the frog,” I corrected, narrowing my eye, with a sinister smile. You laughed, disapproving of my correction with a wave of your hand and a tired sigh.

“No, no, Donna,” you whispered, with a mocking tone. “You heard me correctly. Eel.”

“What difference does it make?” I asked curiously, admiring your imagination, your ability to make Giovanna fall asleep every night with those made-up stories. Only you could do it.

“Oh, I'm glad you’ve asked me...” you whispered, darkening your voice, making me pay more attention to you. “Well, when the princess kisses the toad, it becomes a prince, right?”

I nodded, listening to you with curiosity, trying not to let my eye go to the scar on your arm, the one that showed the worst two weeks of my life, the ones in which I was on the verge of losing you, because of me.

“Well, in my story, when the princess kisses the eel, the prize is… an electric tickle attack!” you said loudly, attacking me mercilessly, running over my body with your restless hands, making me laugh involuntarily.

“(Y/N)...” I said, grabbing your wrists to end your torture.

“Do you like my story?” you asked, climbing onto my lap, with that shine in your eyes that made me tremble, get excited. You were so perfect, so sweet... So... Fiery.

“Is that the end?” I asked, hugging your body, keeping it close to mine, rocking it. You pretended to think about the answer, which came in the form of a tender, but hot kiss on my lips, one that made me sigh.

“Well, that's the all-audiences ending,” you purred in my ear, forcing my hands to scratch the fabric of your pajamas as a result of the subtle but perceptible movement of your hips against mine.

“Is there an alternative ending?” I asked with a low voice, impatiently putting my hand in your pants, keeping your gaze, which drifted to my lap while you nodded.

“Yes, but it can't be told,” you whispered, reacting to my touch with erratic movements of your body.

“Maybe you can show it to me,” I said, with a smile close to your lips, noticing your nervous breathing, your desire to love me once again, to let yourself be loved, this time for real, that time without arguments, without terrible ideas going through my head.

“Maybe I can,” you whispered, melting into me in a passionate, hot, wet kiss, dancing with my body, caressing my hair, my back, comically fighting with your pajamas so they would disappear from our path.

 “Mom, mom!” a shrill voice sounded behind the door, causing you to move, to turn away from me with scared eyes.

Small steps approached the bed and with the strength that a 6 year old girl could have, Giovanna climbed up to meet us.

“Gio, what are you doing here?” you asked, your face blushing. “Why did you get up?”

“I've had a nightmare...” the girl murmured, looking at me out of the corner of her eye, with a strange feeling that made me raise my eyebrow.

“Oh, a nightmare?” you said, taking the girl in her arms. “You just fell asleep, darling.”

“Yes, but I had the nightmare,” she said, looking away. Was she lying?

“Oh, poor Gio, the evil monsters again?” you asked with a tender voice, placing the little girl between the two of us.

I couldn't help but sigh tiredly. It might seem like a tender moment, a moment when our daughter needed that coveted motherly love. Well, it could be like that, but I knew it wasn't.

When she was born, she was a good baby, who cried like a normal baby, who let herself be rocked, who fell asleep in my arms. That changed over the years. Somehow, as if she had noticed the absence of her mother in the first moments of her life, she could no longer live without her.

Always with you, the girl was always with you, she cooked with you, she bathed with you, and, of course, she slept with you.

The nights stopped being a small bastion of intimacy between us when Giovanna had enough capacity to reason. Sometimes I thought she did it on purpose, to annoy me. She couldn't think that way. I really was trying not to think that way.

“Yes, mom...” the little girl sighed, causing another hug from you and a look of helplessness that you gave me over your shoulder. “Can I sleep here?”

“No, tesoro,” I said, taking the girl in my arms, in a furious outburst at that interruption.

I wouldn't have acted like that if it hadn't been the countless times it happened. “Come on, let's put you to bed.”

“No! I want to stay with mom,” the girl protested, breaking free from my grip, crawling comically across the bed to reach your arms. You laughed, shaking your head.

“(Y/N), tell her something,” I said, showing clear displeasure at the situation. My patience grew as the girl did, but lately it was slowing down, maybe too fast.

You shrugged, hugging our daughter, who seemed to be having another of her usual tantrums.

“Oh, come on, Donna, poor thing. It's okay. She can sleep with us,” you said, giving in to the little girl's emotional blackmail, to those fake tears that ran down her cheek.

“It's okay if it were the first time, (Y/N)” I said, sitting on the bed. “She has to learn to face her fears.”

“Mamma mean... Mom, mamma is mean...” Giovanna said, hanging on to your pajamas, looking at me with eyes that I wished I had never seen. They seemed full of hatred, irrational hatred. Why did she remind me so much of me?

“No, don't say that, honey, mommy Donna isn't mean, she cares about you,” you sighed, cradling the little girl in your arms.

I laughed nervously and crossed my arms, shaking my head. Despised by my own daughter, was this the punishment that awaited me for my horrible acts?

“Well, then she has to let me sleep with you,” the girl said, without bothering to look at my face.

“She's going to do it, right, Donna?” you asked, looking at me. I couldn't do anything else. I had to nod in defeat, for my own daughter.

“Oh, okay,” I huffed, getting under the covers.

I looked at the girl, the girl looked at me and did something that made me sit up again. Her face radiated the sweet taste of victory, sticking her tongue out at me mockingly.

“Hey!” I protested, annoyed by that unpleasant gesture. “(Y/N), the girl stuck her tongue out at me.”

“Oh, come on, stop it and let's go to sleep,” you said tiredly, turning off the light on the table, enveloping the room in the deepest darkness.

I wanted to protest again, to punish Giovanna for treating me that way, but I did nothing, as always. I just crossed my arms again, pressed against the edge of the bed.

Silence finally reigned in my head, and in my ears. Frustrated and nervous, I thought about everything that was happening, about my daughter's unfair attitude towards me. You said that perhaps she had inherited that possessiveness.

 I trembled to think that it could be that way.

Of all my flaws, that was the worst. Just thinking that my daughter could become someone like me... My entire body trembled with terror at that idea, my stomach clenched as I imagined it. Giovanna had inherited almost all of my looks, that wasn't a bad thing. But that her mind worked like mine, that she thought she had to have you to herself...

No, that was something that horrified me, something I tried to ignore in each and every one of her tantrums.

With my eye open, thinking about that possibility, I spent part of the night, well, until a small foot hit me in the face, snapping me out of my own personal torture.

“Mamma, move, I don't have room,” the girl protested, causing me to grunt, pushing her small leg away with an angry gasp.

“You have plenty of room, Giovanna,” I said with a serious voice, perhaps too serious for such a young girl. She didn't seem to care and she continued kicking my body until she forced me to fall off the bed with a thud.

“Mamma, you fell,” my daughter whispered, with a malicious tone, with a tone I hated hearing.

A mocking laugh reached my ears. It wasn't the girl. It was you, (Y/N).

Did you really find it funny that my daughter looked down on me like that? My dark mind lurked in my thoughts, but I was stronger, at that moment I could control my impulses, although I didn't know for how long.

“Do you find it funny? Your daughter kicked me out of bed,” I said furiously, suddenly getting up from the floor.

“No, no, not at all,” you said, not knowing how to hide the mockery that appeared in your words.

I sighed again, running a hand through my hair, shaking my head.

“You know what? You can stay there, I'm leaving,” I said furiously, grabbing one of the cushions from the bed, leaving the room, stopped by your mocking hand on my wrist.

“Come on, Donna, stop acting like a child and go back to bed,” you said, your voice tired. I opened my eyes wide, offended by that reproach.

“Do I behave like a child?” I asked, with my hands on my hips. “Tell your daughter, she hasn't stopped until she kicked me out of bed and...”

“Donna, stop it,” you scolded me, leaving me glued to the wooden floor. “I don't know which of the two is more childish, really...” you sighed, turning around, letting me go.

I opened my mouth to say something, but my insides were churning furiously. I knew I was right, but I couldn't help but feel that it was internal rage, an uncontrolled rage that clouded my disturbed mind was the reason for all your suffering. I would never hurt you again, (Y/N), ever again.

“Buoa notte,” I whispered before disappearing down the hallway, walking towards the office.

Lying back on that old sofa, I thought about whether all of that was really a punishment, if the happiness I felt from having you next to me, from having a family, was just the illusion of reward, instead of a macabre game of hell itself.

“Hello, hello, hello, exiled again?” a familiar, too familiar voice asked, Angie, who entered the office with an amused step.

“What do you think?” I asked, settling down on that horrible sofa, looking away from that annoying doll. “If you did your job well…”

“What job?” the doll asked, jumping into my stomach, with a maddening voice that I didn't need to hear.

“Giovanna has had nightmares again,” I commented in a low voice, forcing Angie to get off my body, turning around, trying not to stick the wood of that sofa that little by little was becoming my new bed.

“Oh, I didn't know,” she muttered, climbing up again, just to annoy me. Why would my own conscience want to annoy me? It seemed like everyone was against me, as always.

“You didn’t know? You sleep with her,” I said incredulously, suspecting something I already knew. Angie shrugged, shaking her head from side to side. “Piccola bugiarda…”

“Don't blame her. She wants to be with her mother,” the doll said, downplaying the fact that my daughter was a little liar, something admirable at her age, but equally irritating.

“I'm her mother too,” I protested, sitting up, saying out loud a truth that my own daughter seemed to deny from the moment she said her first word, from the moment she decided not to separate from you.

“That's quite obvious,” Angie murmured, making me roll my eye and cross my arms, pressing my nails into my skin.

“But it seems like I’m not... Giovanna doesn't see me as such,” I said with a lower voice. “Cazzo, Angie, I can't even spend a moment with (Y/N) alone...”

“Oh...” the puppet sighed, forcing me to look at her. “I don't think you're jealous of your own daughter, Donna.”

“What? Of course I’m not,” I said immediately, separating that possibility from my head, the possibility that had been tormenting me for some time.

“Well, it seems like it,” Angie rebuked, earning a strong push from me to took her off the couch.

“Don’t say nonsense. I'm sure it's a phase or something...” I muttered, grabbing the cushion to channel my anger into that piece of fabric instead of losing my nerve.

I hadn't lost my mind for too long, I wanted you to be proud of me.

“Well, well, what you want is to be alone with (Y/N) to make more babies to get on my nerves,” the irreverent puppet commented.

I huffed tiredly. Of course, Angie was part of me. She was just as possessive and jealous as me, as Giovanna...

“You don't understand,” I said in a dark tone, looking away from her. “I adore our daughter but I would like to have time for (Y/N) and me and… Besides, I'm afraid of…”

“Of what, Donna?”

“I’m afraid of Giovanna being like me”

That night I barely slept. The erratic thoughts in my head wandered freely thanks to the lack of your body hugging mine, your heat dissipating my demons. No, I couldn't be jealous of Giovanna, I couldn't feel hatred towards the person I loved most in the world. Or maybe I can, I didn't know, I was incapable of controlling everything that was going through my head, I was incapable of not seeing myself in my daughter's hateful glances.

“Good morning, darling...” your soft voice, your caresses on my hair woke me up from my recurring nightmares, some in which my old self took control of my actions, some in which I hurt you, again. “Have you been able to sleep?”

“Yes, well, I'm used to that horrible couch,” I murmured, yawning, sitting up to return those precious caresses, that kiss that I wanted to give you to calm my senses.

“Donna,” you sighed, with a sad look, lack of that fun that always guided your life. “Come on, don't be mad.”

“I'm not mad,” I said defensively, bringing my knees to my chest. “How did the little princess sleep?” I asked, unable to prevent irony from coating my words.

“Well, well, it seems like she doesn't have nightmares anymore,” you commented, oblivious to the mockery of my question, or rather, wanting to be oblivious to it.

“Yeah, sure,” I said, shaking my head, with a fake smile on my face.

“Don't be like that with Gio, she's a little girl, it's normal that she wants to be with her mother,” you explained, never ceasing in your attempt to calm me down with your caresses.

 I wish it had been that easy from the beginning, I wish your love could have put an end to my jealousy.

“With you, of course,” I murmured angrily, squeezing my fist tightly, a fist you grabbed, undoing its shape before it hurt me, again.

“Don't have a hard time, my love. You know what Giovanna is like, she's like…”

“Like me,” I interrupted, making you sigh intensely and lower your gaze. That was what you were going to say, it doesn't matter if you denied it.

“Yes, but not in the way you're thinking,” you said, lying, I could see it in your eyes, you were lying.

Liar

“I need to take a shower,” you commented, leaving aside that interesting and dangerous topic of conversation. “Why don't you give the girl breakfast? So you spend some time together.”

“She’s going to to bite me,” I murmured, unintentionally earning another of your tender laughs, another of your quick kisses on the lips, caresses and kisses I never deserved.

“Stop protesting and act like a mother,” you said amused, leaving the office.

I growled, uncovering myself and going to look for that little monster.

“Come on, Giovanna, drink the milk...” I said, tired of the girl's obvious refusal.

Already dressed, I prepared to fulfill the task you gave me, bathing the little girl and giving her breakfast. To say it was easy was a dirty liar. It was not.

Giovanna's protests grated in my ears. She loved her mother, she loved you.

“I don't want to, where is mom?” Giovanna asked, in a childlike posture, crossing her arms and dodging each of my attempts to bring the glass to her mouth.

“Mom is taking a shower, come on, obey,” I said, already tired from that infernal bath, from the kicks and punches of protest from my daughter, from our daughter. If she didn't look so much like me, I'd think she was just yours.

“I don't want to,” the girl said, looking at me proudly. I snorted, getting angry.

“Giovanna...” I hissed threateningly, sternly. She shook her head. “Come on, don't make it more difficult for me.”

“What have you done to mom?” she asked, leaving me stunned, leaving me breathless because of that horrible accusation.

“What are you talking about, tesoro?” I asked incredulously at those words, at that question. Did she remember she existed because I forced you to? It didn't seem possible.

“Mom's not here, I'm sure it's your fault,” the girl repeated, without looking at my face, gracefully avoiding my attempts to get her to eat breakfast.

“Don't talk nonsense and have breakfast at once,” I said tiredly, ignoring that horrible accusation.

“I don't want to, I want mom to come,” Giovanna said, kicking in the chair, threatening with another tantrum.

“I told you... Mom is taking a shower,” I whispered, losing my patience. “Eat breakfast or I won't let you play with Angie.”

Apparently, the threat of punishment had an effect. The girl clumsily picked up the glass, drinking some milk. I sighed in relief, but not for long. With a mocking sound, the milk in her mouth shot into the worst possible place, into my face.

I blinked in shock at this evil act and tried to ignore the boisterous laughter of the Angie doll, who seemed to be writhing on the floor, amused at my expense.

“It's over, you're punished,” I said furiously, grabbing the little girl's arm, who protested with an exaggerated scream.

“Let me go! Mom!” the little girl yelled, disconsolately calling her mother, calling you, her savior.

“Stai zitto, Giovanna,” I said furiously with a dark voice, but maintaining my composure, wiping my face.

“Lasciami in pace!” she screeched in response, moving erratically.

“Io sono la tua mamma, ascoltami, Giovanna...” I whispered, stopping that protest as best I could, being totally incapable.

“Tu non sei la mia mamma, sei una stupida!” she screamed, insulting me, making it clear that she didn't love me, that she only loved you.

That was a hard blow for my fragile mind, too hard.

“Hey, hey...” your voice resonated to calm that bloody battle, appearing from the hallway with a gaze fixed on the girl, with a frown. “What's going on here? If you're going to fight, at least do it in my language, will you?”

 “Your daughter, (Y/N), that's what's happening,” I said furiously, unable to get rid of the strong accent that anger made me have. You approached, shaking your head, running a hand through my hair.

“What happened to you? Has a cow fallen on your face?” you joked, making the girl laugh in amusement, being picked up by your protective arms.

I didn't know what to say, I simply tried to fight against my wounded heart, against the tears that threatened to slide down my cheek.

With a growl, I walked away from you, quickly, ignoring your calls.

“Donna! Hey, Donna! Come here,” you shouted, calling me. I turned to look at you, but I could only see the girl's triumphant eyes, ones that almost made me lose control.

I ignored your screams, going down to the basement, running quickly towards my room, containing the rage that was beginning to build up in my fists.

Furious, I kicked a chair, kicked the bed, and pulled my hair. The situation was unbearable but... No, I couldn't lose my mind in front of you, of our daughter. I couldn't go back to being that evil woman who ruined your life, the one who forced you through her deranged mind. I didn't want it to come back, but I couldn't stop it.

“Maledizione!” I shouted, releasing all my anger in a punch that hit the mirror of the old dresser. Blood flowed from my hand. The pain was intense, but not compared to the damage to my delicate, sensitive, sick heart...

How to deal with the love I felt for you, and for my daughter? How to handle those horrible feelings that haunted me? I loved Giovanna. I loved her more than my own life, even if she didn't feel the same way.

Jealousy, possessiveness, yes, there was no longer any doubt, it was my fault. Giovanna was born for that reason. She came into the world because of my pathetic and crazy obsession with keeping you by my side. Just as it happened with me, it happened with her. My desire not to lose you, to keep you close to me had passed to Giovanna, turning her into my reflection, into an adorable version of the monster that I considered myself to be.

The situation was getting out of control. I should never have been a mother, I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve to have you by my side. Your words, the love you said you felt for me were no longer enough.

That was my punishment for keeping you. That was my punishment for all the harm I did to you, creating something wonderful, a beautiful daughter, only for me to be nothing to her, just a nuisance, a threat that stood between her mother and her.

I looked at the blood that flowed from my knuckles, that blood that reminded me that I was still a human being. I shook my head, I buried it in my arms and there, in the solitude of my room, far from my family, far from the most important things in the world for me, I cried inconsolably.

“Quando ci vuole, ci vuole, mm?” I repeated that phrase looking at myself in the broken mirror, demanding a bit of fortitude from myself, gaining enough strength to get up and return to your side.

No matter how hard the path was, my duty was to walk along it. That was my penance.

“You shouldn't treat mommy that way, honey... She loves you very much.” Your voice caught my attention, making me hide before revealing myself again.

“She doesn't love me, she just wants to take me away from you,” the girl said, sobbing. That made me squirm again, but I managed to stay calm.

“No, that's not true, darling. Donna would do anything for you, for us… Remember how she made you Mrs. Freckles? She's your favorite doll, right?” you asked, giving Giovanna that doll, one that I made her when she was three years old, when she didn't hate me.

“Yes...” Giovanna said, hugging the doll tightly. That was the closest I'd come to her to give me some love the last two years. I cried again thinking about it.

“Besides, you don't remember but... Thanks to your mom, you're healthy and strong now, I'm sure you didn't know that,” you commented, with a soft voice, cradling the girl, calming her tantrum.

Giovanna shook her head, curious.

“I don't remember,” she said, with her hand on her mouth, in an adorable way. Well, at least it made me smile.

“Of course not, you had just been born and I... Well, I got very, very sick... I couldn't take care of you, but do you know who did?” you asked, with a voice similar to the one you used when you told her a story.

 The girl shook her head.

“Donna, your mommy, she took care of you until I got well again. She fed you, changed your diaper, sang lullabies to you to make you fall asleep...” You explained, making the knot in my stomach grow stronger. I didn't want to remember those two weeks, I didn't want to.

“Mamma Donna?” the girl asked, lowering her gaze.

“Yes, honey, she was very kind to you, you should be a good girl and return her favor, don't you think?” you said, with a softer voice.

The girl seemed to think about it, but finally, just as I suspected, she shook her head.

“Go to play with Angie, okay?” you said when you looked at me out of the corner of your eye, when you realized my presence. “Then we could take a walk in the forest, would you like to?”

“Yes, yes, a walk!” Giovanna said, excited about the idea, running around the room, passing by me without even looking at me.

“Donna, darling,” you sighed, walking slowly towards me, looking down at my wound, still bleeding. “Oh, my love… Have you hurt yourself again?”

I nodded, trying not to look at her, feeling ashamed, feeling that I was the monster you seemed to fall in love with once again.

“Gods, what have you done? Come, let's heal you,” you sighed, with that look you had when my mind went crazy, something that hadn't happened for too long.

Slowly, with a sad look, you bandaged my wound, not wanting to say anything, looking at me from time to time, with pity, thinking you had lost me again.

“Giovanna said I wasn't her mother,” I murmured while you worked on my wound. You looked at me, sighing, closing the bandage around my hand, holding it in yours.

“Don't pay attention to her, she's a little girl. You know that children say a lot of nonsense,” you commented, lifting my chin so you could see my face damaged by crying.

“It's not nonsense,” I said, furious again.

"Of course it is. Giovanna loves you, even if she doesn't tell you, I know,” you said in a soft tone, trying to convince me to abandon that shameful jealousy, that lack of your love that girl was forcing me to feel.

“You think so?” I said, turning around, looking on the coffee table for one of the many drawings my daughter made and showing it to you superbly. “Where am I here?”

“Oh, well...” you said, taking the sheet of paper, looking at the figures of Giovanna, Angie and you. “Oh, look, here you are,” you said smiling, pointing to a small black figure in the corner of the paper. I raised my eyebrows.

“There are lint in this house bigger than that black stain,” I said ironically, becoming defensive again.

“That black stain is you,” you joked, nudging me. I looked at you with a burning gaze, making you step back.

“Exactly, I'm just a black stain in our daughter's life, and in your life,” I murmured, looking away.

“No, that's not true, you know I love you very much Donna. You know that I...” you said, almost begging for me to listen to you, too late.

“I have to work on my dolls,” I said, getting up from the couch, rubbing the bandaged wound on my hand. “Thank you for healing me.”

“Donna, honey, wait...”

Nothing you said could be enough to calm the tide of my dark thoughts.

Just a black stain, a monster that wanted to separate my daughter from her mother, that was me in that family, nothing else.

“We'll be back before it gets dark,” you said, kissing me on the cheek as you said goodbye, heading out the door. “Come on, Gio, give mommy a kiss,” you ordered the girl, who was tugging impatiently at your dress.

“I don't want to,” the girl murmured, taking refuge between your legs. “Come on, mom, come on.”

You looked at me, apologizing for her, I shook my head. Not even Angie stayed with me.

With nothing better to do, I leaned on the porch railing, watching you walk away, letting my mind think that this might be the last time I saw you. In my hands, I held the black veil with which I used to cover my face, imagining a fleeting hope that would allow me to go with you.

I'm just stupid, like my daughter said. I didn't deserve the fantastic family I had. I never did it, it was all my fault.

“Look, Donna, what a kick... It's incredible...”

“Do you think we should paint the room? It's a bit dull for a girl, or a boy...”

“I want to see what it's like...”

As I looked somewhere I didn't notice, I remembered those moments, those horrible moments of your pregnancy, horrible, yes, but also tender, adorable. I was to blame for your suffering and your smiles. The harm that little Giovanna did to you was the first of my punishments.

I sighed, letting a tear fall onto the wooden floor, shaking my head, denying myself the truth of a terrible thought. You would be much better off without me.

“Donna, Donna!” A shrill voice derived that horrible thought from my head. My Angie doll appeared from the trees, clumsily running towards me.

“Angie? What's going on?” I asked, shaking my head as I ran to pick up the puppet, who was panting comically from that impromptu run.

“(Y/N), (Y/N) and Gio are in trouble, you have to help them, quickly!” the doll shouted, pulling the fabric of my dress. I, scared by that phrase, calmed the puppet by shaking it so it would stop babbling.

“What? In trouble?” I asked scared, with my body trembling with fear.

“Some bad men have trapped them in the forest, you have to do something, run, run!”

Frightened by that revelation, I put the black veil over my face, lowering the doll to the ground. My gaze darkened.

Nobody touches my family.

“Okay, take me there, Angie,” I whispered.

The doll nodded and led me by the hand into the depths of the forest.

“Do you want to stay still, you damn brat?” A deep voice reached my ears. This horrible vision appeared behind some bushes.

Two men, probably from the village, were holding my daughter, holding you in the same way while you kicked, trying unsuccessfully to get out of their grasp.

“Ah! Damn! She has bitten me!” The fatter one yelled, protesting against Giovanna's surprising attack against his hand.

“Let my mom go, you silly! Let her go!” the girl shouted, now in the arms of that evil man.

“Damn child!” the other man shouted, trying to keep you still.

“Gio!” you screamed, watching how the girl kicked tirelessly. My whole body burned with rage. “Let her go, you asshole, she's a child!”

“I will if you give me what I want, young lady,” the bandit murmured.

“I already told you that we don't have money!” you screamed again, growling, fighting with the hands that went to your neck.

“I think so, look at that girl's doll, it must be worth a lot of lei...”

“No, Mrs. Freckles!” Giovanna yelled, when that vermin snatched her doll.

“You're screwing up quite well... You don't know where you've gotten yourself,” you growled, your eyes burning with helplessness.

I couldn't take it anymore.

“Mamma!”  Giovanna  said when I, with a calm, threatening step, appeared from the shadows.

“Ah!” the fat man shouted, receiving a well-deserved kick in the crotch from my daughter, something that made me smile.

“Damn... What the hell...?” the man murmured, now moaning in pain, while I picked up my frightened daughter in my arms.

“Oliver, look who she is...” the man holding you said, pointing at me, who was trying to comfort the little girl's crying.

“Oh, shit...” the fat man sighed, eyes wide open, kneeling in the snow. “Lady Beneviento…”

I didn't say anything, I just sighed, cradling my daughter who, for once, clung to me disconsolately.

“Donna,” you whispered, with a triumphant smile.

“Greg, I think you should let the girl go,” the kneeling man said. His friend, unfortunately for him, didn’t seem to pay attention to him.

“Are you stupid? She can't hurt us, she's just a nutcase,” his partner said, with a crazy look, putting a knife to your neck. “Don’t, don't move or the girl dies.”

“Greg, no...” the fat man said, pulling on his partner's clothes.

“Are you a coward or what's wrong with you?” this Greg guy snapped, smiling in a horrible way, holding the sharp blade to your delicate neck. “One, one step back, you doll psychopath…”

Of course, I didn't obey.

“Don't insult her, dude... Don’t do it...” his partner lamented, closing his eyes and bowing his head.

“Get up, now we have the control. She won't do anything if she doesn't want the girl to get hurt,” that stupid man said, making me laugh. “Give us everything you have if you don't want us hurt her. I will do it, I swear...”

“No, you won't,” I whispered, extending my free hand toward them.

“Ah! Snakes!” the fat man shouted, rolling on the ground. “They are everywhere!”

The girl looked at me smiling curiously, just like you, who was no longer trembling.

“What do you say, Giovanna? What do you think can scare that stupid guy so much?” I asked amused, looking into the scared eyes of the man who was still holding you.

“Mmm,” the girl murmured, changing terror for amusement. “Coccodrilli!”

“I like it,” I said with a dark look, walking towards that man who was threatening you. His eyes changed to ones of terror, especially since his partner continued to struggle with his hallucinations.

“No, no, wait, wait,” he said, letting you go and putting his hands up. “It, it was a misunderstanding, I... Ah! It has torn off my arm!” He said horrified, when he finally succumbed to my powers.

You ran to my side, into my arms, with a smile of relief, the three of us watching that pitiful spectacle together.

“They’re everywhere!”

“It ripped off my leg! Help!”

I approached them slowly, putting a hand on your shoulder, holding little Giovanna in my arms.

“The next time you mess with my family I won't be pious,” I threatened, giving as much fear as I could, being that monster I hated so much being, to protect my family.

“That’s right!” the girl said “Fools!”

The rats fled at last, leaving a small moment of tension behind them.

“Gods, Donna, you showed up,” you whispered, removing the black cloth from my face, kissing me quickly and then our daughter. “Gio, are you okay?”

“Mrs. Freckles!” the girl screamed. I lowered her to the ground so she could run towards her doll, now with a broken arm.

“Don't worry, honey, Donna will fix it,” you said, you now being the one holding the girl, as expected. “Come on, let's go home…”

The way back was silent. Your hand in mine expressed gratitude, love, what I didn't think you felt for me. Even Giovanna's distrustful look seemed to change, looking at me embarrassedly over your shoulder, as if she were sad, or sorry for something.

The next day the routine continued, but not before talking at length about that incident. Miraculously, Giovanna didn’t seem to have nightmares that night and, surprisingly, according to you, excited by my bravery, you allowed me to make love to you, for the first time in many months.

That small release seemed to mark the beginning of a new stage, or maybe it was just that the girl was too sleepy to want to annoy me. I didn't know.

Like every day, I worked on my dolls, well, that time, on poor Mrs. Freckles, repairing her arm in silence, with the only sound of the workshop clock keeping me company.

A tug on my dress distracted me. I hadn't heard her, but my daughter had entered the workshop like a silent breeze. I assumed she wanted to check the state of Mrs. Freckles' injury.

“Mamma...” she murmured, with her head bowed. I sighed, smiling, pretending that I had no hard feelings, pretending I didn't care about her attitude toward me.

“What do you want, tesoro? She's almost fixed,” I murmured, looking at the doll again. The girl tugged at my dress again, now catching my attention.

Giovanna didn't say anything. She just moved her hands up, opening and closing her fists with a sad look, asking, surprisingly, to be held in my arms.

I, without hesitation, obeyed her silent request, sitting her on my lap while I fixed her favorite doll.

“Will she recover?” she asked, observing my work. I smiled sincerely, nodding.

“Of course,” I said, amused. “Mrs. Freckles is very brave, don't you think?”

Giovanna nodded profusely, with a hand on her mouth, a hand that I slowly withdrew, so I could see the precious daughter I conceived.

“You are also very brave,” she murmured, as if something was stopping her from saying that. I stopped sewing, looking at my daughter's sincere expression. “You saved us.”

“I only did what I had to do, tesoro, protect my family,” I said with a slightly serious tone, accommodating the girl in a more comfortable position.

“I have a gift for you...” Giovanna whispered, taking one of her little hands to the pocket of her dress and taking out a sheet of paper.

I picked it up slowly, frowning when I saw one of Giovanna's drawings. Mysteriously, I seemed to be the protagonist.

“Look, mamma, it's you, see?” she explained, pointing to my dark figure in the  middle of the drawing, rising triumphantly over two evil bandits. “Look, that's mom and me, smiling because you saved us.”

“Giovanna, it's... Amazing...” I sighed, trying not to get too excited, looking over and over again at the surprising details of that drawing.

“You will always protect us, right?” she asked with a low voice, as if she was also about to cry.

“Of course, tesoro,” I said, wiping away a tear that finally ran down her cheek. “Mom and you are the most important things in my life.”

“And will we always be?” the girl asked, a little more worried.

“Always, my love,” I said, with a smile.

“Won't you let them hurt mom?” she asked again.

 I shook my head.

“Never,” I said, with a more serious tone. Giovanna smiled and, with an unexpected gesture, jumped into my arms, hugging me tightly, with an affection that I could never imagine or deserve.

“I love you so much, mamma...” she whispered with a tender voice, finally making me emotional.

“I love you too, my beautiful girl...”

[diejager]

wdyt of the idea of high society victorian cod characters cus i saw one glimpse of the idea and thought hmmm occult ghost and im praying we get it

I can’t believe I went google searching for this Drabble XD

PS. I wrote this before seeing @justadeadreaper ‘s AU!

The Past Cw: SLIGHT DARK, DUB-CON, spiritualism, occult, sex magic, smut, cunnilingus, fingering, oral sex, tell me if I missed any.

You’d heard from other women that the dark and mystery-shrouded man was one of the best spiritualists in England —if not the only man practicing the dark arts. You were warned through loose lips and gossiping whispered that he was a giant for your time, dressed in the finest silks a man could buy for himself and portrayed an aura of pride and excellence, holding an air of finesse and savagery in every words he spoke. You had your own expectations before you met him, fingers trembling as you wrote your letter, a grieving tear rolling down your powdered cheek.

You waited with bated breath and tense shoulders for his reply, and when a letter arrived, the little skull wax seal playing a part to your excitement, you ripped in open and settled in your desk in an unladylike manner. For a man you didn’t know, you couldn’t help but admire his calligraphy, the hand which he used to write was skilfully gentle, his words curled with a gracefulness you envied. In the black lettering, he gave you a date and location, touched by your plight, he invited you to his house in an unknown part of Manchester.

You rode out a few days early to meet him, being aware that he’d extended his invitation to a week long stay after your second exchange. He expressed his solemnity and sympathy towards you, promising that he’d be able to help you and you couldn’t be any happier to be able to let the past rest.

But your expectations of him fell the moment he greeted you at the wide mahogany doors of his house, he was broad and talks, a giant dressed in black. The cuffs and collar of his long coat were woven with silver roses and vines, gracing pant-clad thighs, thick and strong as a tree’s tough bark. He wore leather gloves - black as the rest of his attire - and a gem-clipped cravat stuffed under his black waist coat, buttons holding it to his sculpted chest and a flared end with silver intricacies, silver flowers and plants sown into the fabric. He was dressed beautifully, like a phantom of the opera, but when you gazed up, his dark eyes stared back, skin painted black and face hidden with a mask, a smooth skull stitched into the fabric of his cover.

He was a masterpiece in dark garments, handsome and mysterious when he ushered you in, the rumble of his voice making your body tingle, warmth filling your abdomen. He was a quiet man, eyes expressing more than words could, he had a gentle silence to him with tender and guiding hands, herding you to his seance room —or so you thought. There weren’t any tables, only plush cushions and soft-padded chairs in the dimly lit room, shadows dancing on the dark walls when he laid you down, coaxing you to relax under his care.

“I need you to relax,” he whispered, pressing his covered mouth you your forehead, brushing your locks off your sweaty skin, “do you trust me, love?”

You felt light-headed, mind dazed with the warmth and comfort he provided you, you choked down a sob, your voice dying in your throat. So you gave him a small nod, shuddering when his hands grazed up your hips to cradle your cheek, brushing away your stray tear.

“Good, close your eyes for me, yeah?”

Darkness embraced you with soothing calmness as he cradled you in his arms, feeling you up until his hands slipped under your petticoat, his calloused - when had he taken his gloves off? - fingers hooking the band of your lacy underwear. He spread your legs, hanging them over his wide shoulders, his hot breath hitting your sensitive mound. You flinched when he pressed his lips to your covered slit, burying his nose in your thick bush as he drew a calming pattern on your inner thighs.

The fire brewing in your core boiled, strong and coming forth in giant waves. It was unknown, a strange sensation that rocked you whole. He dragged his tongue up your wet hole, circling your blinking cunt and to your twitching clit, lifting the hood to have better access to your sensitive nerve. You shuddered and jerked with every touch, little mewls and whimpers slipping past your painted lips and graced his ears with your pretty sounds.

His tongue was skilled, nimble as he dove into you, pumping your tight cunt with his hot muscle, slurping up your slick and rolling your virgin clit with his thumb, rough and calloused, yet gentle with you. You squirmed and murmured incoherent words, something about it feeling weird, about your body burning and your mind lost to it, but he only coaxed you further, praising you for being so good and compliant for him.

“Good girl, telling me how good you feel,” he panted, diving back into your gummy walls, tongue brushing your softness before he replaced them with his strong and thick finger, plunging into you and hitting your sweet spot, “M name’s Ghost, love. Scream my name, yeah?”

His soft praises and talented fingers had you tipping over, the fire spilling over the edge with a blinding light. You cried out his name - is moniker - with mewls and gasps, arching beneath him and wrapped your legs tightly around his head as you came, gushing around his fingers. He slowly pumped his fingers, tongue lapping and drinking up your slick, gorging on your drooling cunt as if it were the sacred waters of the fountain of youth.

He left you limp and numb, lashes fluttering, peering at him with tired eyes, bathing in the adoring eyes of the spiritualist that made you come with his mouth and fingers alone —something new to you, a stranger in your heart and throbbing core. With his mask pulled over his tongue, mouth and chin still wet with your slick, he mumbled to you, tender words coaxing you to sit up for him.

“Reckon we get started, love?”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx

[yourheart-inmyhands]

hi hi, i wanted to say its totally okay not to post frequently, bcz your health matters much more than some silly requests<3

Do you think you could write yandere furina and venti (separately) with a reader who got drunk and became very clingy to them? If ur uncomfortable with that then It's no problem!

so i really liked this request but i unfortunately don't write for anything alcohol related aside from like brief mentions here and there so i changed it from drunk to sleepy/drowsy (fun fact, i am the type of person to become more clingy when tired XD)

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, implied being held against will, trickery, archons being cute and nice for once, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Furina with a partner that gets clingy when tired is like a dream to her. She often works late hours and gets home after dinner time, with you often eating alone because of this.. She thinks it adorable how you cling to her at night, your mood flipping in the morning as the exhaustion clears away.

You were always a sight for sore eyes, after watching Court Proceedings all day, Furina was more than happy to get home to see you. She had been held up a little later than normal, with her getting home late enough that you were likely in bed already. To her surprise though, you had waited up, fighting sleep as your eyelids tried to flutter shut, head resting against the back of the couch. Her heart fluttered as you shot up hearing her enter, a tired smile on your face as she reached out for you, pulling you into a hug. Furina hums a pleasant tune as she simply holds you, relishing in being able to hold you in her arms, knowing full well that by day break you’ll be back to your usual, less touchy self.

Yandere!Venti would love that his partner is overly affectionate when tired. He’s always super touchy feely and he loves when you reciprocate, even if it’s only once in a while. He likes especially to wake you up in the middle of the night just so he can ask for cuddles. 

Venti laid in bed looking at you sleeping, his false heart skipping a beat as he thinks about his life with you. Slowly, hea reaches over, shaking you awake just enough for you to register what is happening without remembering it in the morning. He asks you for cuddles, saying that he’s cold and misses you, knowing that you’d eagerly accept. Venti would never ask you for cuddles when you’re awake and not drowsy as he knows you’ll never accept, but he doesn’t mind, grateful for these moments with you at night. He likes being able to hold you, even just a part of you sometimes, so that he can feel your closeness to him, a physical reminder of the bond you share. Now and forever.

[onskepa]

Hello! It's my first request and you are also the first writer I will request. Can you do a neteyam and a human girl but she is an arab girl? They are together XD

He calls her yawne, sevin and any other nicknames but she just calls his habibi

It'd be so cute when she'd be calling him habibi and he's so confused because he knows this is not english. But he asks his father and finds out this is another language from earth.

Maybe she can speak a bit of arabic to him?

Helloooooooo sweetie!! This one took me a bit longer than I thought. I went through the Arabic dictionary to understand the basics and make sure what I am putting is right. But hopefully this turned out lovely!!! Enjoy!!

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

حبيبي

When dating someone, the first stage is always the awkward stage. Being shy and nervous around your lover, especially if you are a teenager. Cuddling while being tense, not knowing what to say, eye contact. The whole thing. But the awkward stage isn't forever, as the couple gets more comfortable with each other. Pet names is the next stage. It confirms how one sees the other, a sign and wording of love and deep care. And there are normal pet names like: pooki, honey bun, babe, sweetie, etc. And there are unique pet names that are unique to their own. A little bond just for them. Those hold more special meaning that average pet names. 

And that seals the relationship and opens a clear path to a stronger, loving bond.

Neteyam ran as fast as he could to the human base. Excitement filled his veins, it was complete! A new hijab made from the finest of fibers his forest could ever offer. And the finest hijab is to belong to his loving new lady. 

Things were starting to settle in their new romantic relationship. Was tense and a bit awkward in their starting days but now they are closer than ever. Understand the traditions and cultural heritage his lover has, who is Arabic, he did his best to understand it all. 

When getting to know each other, his Yawntu talked about what her country was like back on Earth. Told him stories, myths and legends. And most of all, the language. To neteyam, writing in Arabic was difficult, and speaking it was just as challenging. But he welcomes new things. He can understand English well enough, so that has become their common language to speak. Of course his Yawntu puts effort in learning na’vi so that she may converse more with the village. 

Opening the door to her room, neteyam enters and smiles at his beloved. There she was, reading a book. Looking up, the human girl smiled at him with hearts in her eyes. They meet in the middle as they embrace each other in full warmth. 

“I missed you ma’sevin” Neteyam says in a cooing manner. His sevin hugs back, replying “I missed you too wasim”. Neteyam’s ear twitched, he didnt understand that word but from the way she said it, must be a loving pet name. 

“Wasim, what does that mean sevin?” Neteyam asks kindly, happy to reply she answers. “Wasim means handsome”. Now this made his tail curl in a playful manner. “Handsome? You see me as a handsome young man, sevin?” he teases while leaning in closer to her face. His dear love couldn't help but blush at his little act and gorgeous smirk. 

“W-well, you call me pretty, i-it's only fair I call you handsome” she stutters out. 

“Dad, why do humans speak more than one language?” Neteyam asks one day as he helps his dad weave something together. Jake pauses momentarily, giving a moment to think before answering. 

“Well son, back on Earth, humans aren't able to connect in a way that na’vi do. Even back then, there was not much to communicate with each other. People living in different areas on Earth developed their own cultures and communities. Even developing new languages”. 

A small moment of silence between them before neteyam asks again, “And how do they develop language? How are they able to make it sound so different from each language?”. Jake scratches his chin a bit and mutters “should have paid attention to history class…” 

Neteyam tilts his head in confusion. Jake waves his hand in a dismissive way. “Forget that” 

Pausing at their craft, they get more comfortable in sitting. 

“Why the sudden interest?” Jake asks, trying to understand neteyams' curiosity for something about humans. 

“Ummm…well there is a human I began to talk to, she stands out a lot from the others you know. She wears a cloth around her hair and wears more clothing and speaks an odd language” neteyam answers. 

“I see. And this girl, are you friends with her?” Jake asks, observing his son as he moves and behaves. 

Scratching a bit on the back of his head, neteyam replies “You could say that. We have been getting to know each other. But she is so cool! Her accent is different but amazing, she showed me a bit of how to write in her native language. It is hard. Oh, and…” 

Jake observes how animated and happy neteyam is as he explains the details of his new friend. Chuckling a bit to himself, jake knows his son won't be silent if given the chance to mention the human girl. It is nice, to see neteyam be happy and express himself more. 

“Your friend seems very nice, but you forgot one important thing, what is her name?” he asks. 

“Oh, her name is…”

“Here, I hope it's perfect for you, I can still make adjustments” Neteyam says as he offers his newly made hijab. The girl grabs it gently and looks at it in awe. “Oh habibi, this looks and feels wonderful, here let me put it on”. Taking that as his cue, the boy turns to give his little lover some privacy to change her hijab. A minute later he turns around. 

“How does it feel?” he asks a bit nervously. Getting a good feel of it, the girl smiles so happily, “wonder, perfect, the colors are truly beautiful. And the material is so soft yet firm. The feel of the forest. The smell….I know that smell very well” she teases, giving him a flirt smirk. 

Neteyam couldn't help but blush at her words. 

   “أنت تعرف دائمًا ما يجب أن تقدمه لي، ومع ذلك أشعر كما لو أنني لم أعطك ما يكفي مني." 

The way the girl spoke was lovely, the curl of the sounds and how it rolls of her tongue was so intriguing. Yes he may not understand everything, but it only pulls him in more to hear the girl's language. 

“Im sorry, I cant understand what you said. '' Neteyam apologies. The girl giggles a bit, holding his hands. Looking up at him, dark eyes meeting his bright ones, “I can teach you if you like. We can speak it together, and I like to hear my language coming from you”. 

His tail thumps against the floor, feeling happy and excited. Smiling widly, he agrees. So, the girl brings out a clean notebook and a pen. “Alright, lets try something simple” she suggests. Nodding, he sees her write a simple sentence. 

أحبك

“Alright, this one is easy, repeat after me, 'uhibuk “ His love instructions. Listening to her words closely, he repeats. 

“'Uhibuk”

Aaaaaaaaand that is it for this one! I hope I got the arabic words right. Had to google it. Until next time! see ya!

wasim = handsome

habibi = my love

  " “أنت تعرف دائمًا ما يجب أن تقدمه لي، ومع ذلك أشعر كما لو أنني لم أعطك ما يكفي مني."  = You always know what to give me, yet I feel as though I have not given you enough from me.

'uhibuk = I love you

[lizzychanstuffss]

Omg maybe Astarion somehow being able to see a reality where he ascended and the dark urge ruled with him

his reaction could be good or bad 🧐 maybe both

BARK BARK BARK you are my first dark urge request so I am excited to write this! Also since I enjoy the idea of some angst with this I am going to say this takes place post-game with a good durge and spawn Astarion :3

Astarion x Redeemed!durge!Tav GN

Spoilers for the entire game. Also, forgive me if the details aren't perfect, I am fairly aware of what happens but for my own sanity I haven't actually seen these endings XD

Requests are still open!

You couldn't sleep, no particular reason this time either, just no matter what you did, tiredness would not take you. Honestly, you considered just taking a walk and seeing if it would tire you out although you didn't want to leave Astarion alone without telling him where you were going. It was something you realized he preferred once you started living together after everything that's happened. It was cute.

So instead of taking a walk you just stared out the window from your shared bedroom of the house you had made your own. The sun was starting to rise already which means that your 'night' was just starting. Converting to a nocturnal schedule was something Astarion actually refused to let you do at first, but considering that if you didn't you would basically never spend any time together he eventually relented. Oddly enough it wasn't a hard switch either you actually preferred to be awake at night then the day. You figured this might have been an old habit from your past life.

Astarion had decided to turn in early for the night, the both of you had a rowdy night of mischief-making and partying and well people congratulating you for saving the entire city basically. It was frankly exhausting and you couldn't blame the vampire for needing an early night. He had been in a trance for a while at this point but when you turned to check on him you noticed his brow was furrowed.

It was such a small thing that almost anyone would miss it but not you, you had a keen eye for the microexpressions his face made when he was having complicated emotions. You didn't always understand what they meant or what was going on in his head but you knew something was off with the man. So you crawled back into bed and debated for a moment about waking him up but decided unless he seemed to be in a panic it was best not to wake him. So instead you just put a gentle hand on his arm and then one in his hair stroking it gently.

After a bit of that he seemed to relax again. Before you noticed his eyes half open gazing at you.

"Oh did I wake you?" you asked him.

"No...well yes but don't apologize....I'm glad you did" turning to face you better he gently took the hand that had been on his shoulder and placed it on his face. The gesture surprised you a little. It's not something you had thought he would do.

"Is something wrong, love?" words sincere, he doesn't speak, at least not until he gathers his thoughts a bit.

"I had a dream, no it was more like a vision." he starts "It was about us...but it wasn't 'us' if that makes sense?" he asked, staring at you with one of his classic wet and pathetic cat looks he was prone to making in moments of vulnerability.

"I think I understand like you saw a version of us from another reality?" He nodded in response to your attempt at describing what he saw. "And what was different about this version of us?"

"Well, I'm not sure what entirely to make of it...it was almost like we were the worst versions of ourselves....we seemed happy but also miserable..." His voice trailed off a bit but he continued speaking before you could say anything in response "You had claimed the Crown for Bhaal, but I was ruling by your side...and I think I went through with the ritual" he seemed confused and shocked by own words but also terrified.

"O-oh" was the only thing you could say in response. Suddenly his want for comfort made utter sense and you couldn't help but comply running your thumb across his cheek. He melted into the touch relaxing a bit more.

The two of you stayed like that more a while. The information was quite a shock to both of your systems, but the both of you were thinking about it just unsure of what to say about such a thing. Then you finally spoke up.

"What did you think of this version of us?"

He sat with your question for a bit.

"I'm...I'm not sure....I know I didn't like it, it felt wrong" He sighs, "What do you think about this version of us?" flipping your own question back on yourself, you take a moment to think about how to answer before speaking.

"Considering that Bhaal wanted me to take the crown for himself and rule the world I can assume he...owned me" as hard as it was to admit you fully knew what taking that crown for yourself meant as it would have never been something you choose on your own. "You said you had ascended in the vision as well?"

He nodded "It was awful, it was as though I was looking as someone possessing my body, there was no ‘me’ anymore just a husk of who I thought I was supposed to be..." tearing up a bit "I was exactly like Cazador" he choked out the words sounding disgusted with himself.

"Hey look at me, that's not you though, that's not either of us" you pressed your forehead to his.

"And it never will be, I won't let it be"

His arms wrapped around you pulling you into him, as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck finding comfort in it as you held him. A hand coming up to gently play with the curls in his hair as he lets himself calm down in your embrace, although you also felt his hand stroke up and down your back in a soothing motion you weren't sure if it was for you or for himself but it was a nice gesture either way.

The two of you stayed like that for a while.

[hoshinoyozora]

Roses in the Thorns

🖤 Pairing: Yandere! Malleus Draconia x Female! Fae! Reader

💛 Word Count: 2,3k+

❤ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Also, don’t ask for a sequel unless I like the story enough to write one. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

I haven’t seen ch 7 yet, but I heard Mal causes snow too when he’s upset? Idk let’s just say he does that here XD Also the meaning of the title is that rose often denotes romance, but is it really romance in their relationship? @married-to-google-translater

Malleus didn’t really like going home.

Of course, he missed his grandmother that worked hard in his stead. His little rose garden waiting to be tended and admired. And his palace that held the comforting yet no less fascinating gargoyles and grotesques. But he didn’t miss the loneliness of his status and species, the fear from people, and you.

The fiancée that his grandmother set up from some Duke a few centuries ago.

It wasn’t as if he hated you, per se. You did your job as a princess and a fiancée very well, perhaps a bit too well, strengthening Queen Maleficia’s fondness for you. She, out of all people, knew just how lonely he was, regardless of his attempts to hide it, and you were more than ready to spend the next centuries with him. Malleus knew he should be delighted, grateful even, that his fiancée wasn’t a shy or fearful thing. But if he had to pinpoint why he disliked you, he might not be able to answer it quickly.

“Welcome back. I miss you.”

You hugged him tighter and closer than any royal couple had done, than any royal couple was supposed to be doing. You hummed contentedly against his shoulder, trying to sway him side by side. You weren’t fazed by his rigid body, however, and merely smiled up at him.

“The castle feels so lonely without you, you know.”

Malleus squinted slightly. He never really knew if you were jabbing at his little insecurity or if you genuinely felt that way. Maybe he was reading too much into your actions, maybe he wasn’t. Who would’ve known?

“I see. That’s unfortunate.”

A neutral answer; neither sympathizing nor mocking. He pushed you away, gently as to avoid any suspicion from the unseen eyes and ears that your relationship wasn’t as harmonious as it should be.

“Avoidant, as usual.” you mused, trailing after him with your hands clasped behind you. “But allow me to accompany you a bit more, Malleus. Fortunately, I have a loose schedule for today.”

Your smile widened just as your eyes glowed in the dimly-lit hallway.

“Because I knew you’d come back to me.”

Ah, that’s right. He disliked you because of your confidence. While it didn’t exactly tiptoe the line of arrogance, it was still annoying how you thought he favored you any more than he favored other women desperate for his hand in marriage. Then again, he couldn’t really fault you for trying. A cold, formal marriage might be the standard for many royal couples, but a harmonious one – both in public and private – would greatly benefit your relationship and image.

And yet…

“I’m tired. I’d like to rest for now.”

Your confidence wasn’t the main reason behind his antipathy.

“Are you sulking, Malleus?”

It was your perceptiveness. Your ability to make him feel naked, vulnerable, tamed. Lilia had that power too, but he was his caretaker and retainer. He cared about him. While you? You were an enigma. A wildcard. A stranger that his grandmother was forced to marry soon.

“What makes you think so?”

Calmly, you closed the doors of his bedroom.

“Why, your face says it all, of course.”

Instinctively, Malleus touched his face. Was he really that expressive? Lilia could read him, but once again, he was his caretaker and retainer.

You chuckled, “Are you thinking about whether you’re being very expressive right now?”

His eyes widened slightly.

“Well, you’re not. But I’ve spent centuries observing you, so I can pick up all your emotions now.” You peeked through your lashes coyly. “So, did you finally find some joy in that school?”

Malleus resisted the urge to shift uncomfortably. He shouldn’t be surprised considering that you were his fiancée, but he knew that had you were more blatant with your ‘observation’, he’d think of you as another Rook Hunt instead.

“I didn’t go there to search for amusement.”

“Oh, really? Not even a new friend?”

“The people there are mostly pleasant.”

You simpered, eyes softening slightly.

“You know I’m not talking about schoolmates.”

“Quit talking in riddles. If you don’t have any business left to discuss, you may leave my chamber at once.”

“Always so cold to me, and yet, you’re strangely warm to that magicless human.”

Stiffening, Malleus whipped around and gripped your arms.

“How did you know about Yuu?”

“Are you really asking me that? I’m your fiancée. I ought to know about your matters, too. How else can I help you if you encounter problems?”

“I already have Lilia with me. I don’t need your intervention.”

You cocked your head in mock questioning.

“Really? Just like how you’re barely invited to any event, including the ceremony? Or how your own retainers forget about you sometimes?”

Malleus ground his teeth.

“I suggest you to watch your tongue if you don’t want to lose it.”

“Oh, but what would people think if they found out that you punished me due to a simple couple spat? And we don’t need to imagine how Her Majesty would react to this. She loves me, you see, and you know it too.”

“Don’t think you’re invincible, [Name].”

“Maybe.” You shrugged carelessly. “But I’m the reason why people started to look at you in a better light now. If I were to, say, complain that you’re being hurtful towards me, they’d sooner believe me over a big, scary dragon.”

His grip tightened. As much as he hated to admit it, you were right. Ever since you got engaged to him, you often invited him to events and used the power of social pressure by displaying affections to him. Of course, Malleus had no choice but to comply and requite the unwanted gestures. And those nobles, foolish little creatures despite the intelligence they touted, immediately believed the act and spread the news all over the country. Now, everyone knew you both as an unconventionally loving couple; surprising but no less heartwarming.

But he could care about his image later.

“Whatever you do, do not harm Yuu in any way.”

You huffed a laugh.

“You wound me, Malleus. When have I ever treat humans so unjustly? They’re a part of our people, too.”

Malleus squinted and opened his mouth to retort, only to close it back. What was he going to say again? That he thought you’d hurt Yuu out of ‘jealousy’ of his friendship? Thinking about it was silly enough; saying it aloud would make him a bigger fool. You probably couldn’t feel jealous, not when you seemed so complacent even in the face of threat. What would you respond later? Another jab? Another sneer?

***

“Lilia, are you the one who told Princess [Name] about me being excluded to school events?”

The cup hovered as Lilia paused to process the question. Peeking up through his lashes, he discerned Malleus’ agitated expression.

“Why, even if I don’t tell her, she can still find out somewhere else.”

“You know I don’t like it when she meddles in my affairs,” Malleus grumbled. “and now she knows about Yuu’s existence too. What if she hurts them?”

“I’ve been observing her, and never once did she mistreat humans. She might seem like a know-it-all, but she’s only trying to do her duty. Let’s not be too paranoid.”

Despite Lilia’s attempt to reassure him, Malleus couldn’t subdue the agitation in his chest. You were too unpredictable, in a way that might just be worse than Lilia. Even if the said fae wasn’t his retainer, Malleus would still trust him to be around Yuu due to his wish for a peaceful life.

Unfortunately, his anxiety was proven true when he spotted you talking with Yuu in the Ramshackle yard at one night.

“Oh, hi, Tsunotarou!”

You glanced at them in bemusement yet devoid of surprise, as if you knew the nickname was harmless. On one hand, Malleus was relieved to know that you wouldn’t scold or punish them for discourtesy like Sebek would’ve done. But on the other hand, he was still angry at your insolence.

“Pardon us, Yuu, but I’d like to speak to her first.”

“Oh, yes. You guys are, uh, dating, right? Go ahead.”

Squinting, Malleus grabbed your wrist and dragged you to a secluded spot.

“Why did you tell them that we’re ‘dating’?! And what are you doing here?! Why didn’t you tell me that you’d come?!”

“I just want to know what compelled you to them. It’s rather baffling, but I think I understand now. That child doesn’t see you for your species, right? They don’t even know about your true name.”

Malleus remained silent.

You simpered, “And it appears that you didn’t tell them about your status too. Why? Are you afraid that they’d change their mind about you?”

“That is none of your business.”

“You know, they’re the one who thinks we’re dating. And they’re not wrong. We are dating, aren’t we?”

“That’s because you’re being nosy!” Malleus hissed. “Can’t you just stop bothering me and let me have some peace for once?!”

Suddenly, your face hardened just as your body went rigid under his grip. It was rather eerie to see you without your calm smile or the way your eyes stared at him without their usual gentleness of complacency. Had he finally displeased you?

“Your grandmother once told me that you liked to read fairy tales and dreamed of happily ever after. I can give you that, and Queen Maleficia knows I’ve been trying for the past centuries, but it seems that my efforts are actually futile all this time.”

You snatched your wrist from his grip and stopped beside him.

“One day, you shall see that I’m the constant part of your life. Not even your fragile and temporary friendship with that magicless human can replace me.” you declared quietly. “And one day, you shall come back to me once the loneliness becomes too overwhelming for you. Because I am the only one you need in your life.”

The wind blew past him, and with it, you were gone. Malleus looked at your empty spot, wondering since when the silence rang too loud in his ears. Then, he scoffed.

How silly. You were useful as a princess and fiancée, yes, but as a companion? No. He didn’t need you platonically or romantically, and he was sure he could live for the next centuries treating you as a business partner or a distant roommate. Just like many others before him.

He could bear with that cold, formal marriage. He was sure of it.

Seasons changed, the calendars turned their pages, and Night Raven College became a distant yet bittersweet memory. Crowley officially failed to bring Yuu home, so Malleus decided to give them a new one in Queendom of Roses so they’d feel close to their friends. It didn’t lessen their eternal anguish and longing, but at least they were able to hide it in the letters and smile at him on the rare times they met. On the other hand, ever since that incident, you’d become distant despite your new status as his wife. Although you were still successful at fooling the nobles with your loving façade, the people close to you managed to sense the wall between you. It was concerning enough until Queen Maleficia decided to confront you both, and with a masterfully calm smile, you replied.

“We simply have a disagreement, but I assure you, it won’t affect our duties or images in any way.”

Malleus could tell she didn’t really believe it, but she sighed in a way weary parents usually did, including Lilia. And you both weren’t exempted from Lilia’s admonishment itself.

For years, the invisible wall remained sturdy, neither heightening or lowering

Until, one day, Yuu died.

Nobody needed to guess who the culprit was when blizzards and thunderstorm kept falling interchangeably around the country. Lilia had implored him to calm down to prevent more deluges in the small villages, and at one point even proposed to visit you for comfort, but Malleus merely lashed out at the latter. How dare he suggest such a ludicrous thing?! All Malleus wanted was to meet his one and only friend again, not you. Never you.

But, alas, Yuu’s fate was already set in stone, and for all his power, there was nothing Malleus could do. The storms had lessened, but dark clouds still lingered in the already gloomy sky. The cloud was heavier around him who refused to leave his room, leaving the court to handle the brunt of his duty. Including you.

“[Name].”

Calmly, you sipped the warm tea and put the cup back to its saucer. You didn’t turn to look at him, but Malleus knew you were listening. You were always listening for him, about him, and the thought strangely flattered him now.

Malleus crossed the drawing room and stood beside you. He stared down at you for a moment before he kneeled.

“You’re correct.”

It was an abrupt apology yet no less sincere. He took your hand from your lap and clasped it within his cold and desperate hands, looking at you pleadingly despite your silent refusal.

“You are… the true constant part of my life. My queen, my wife, and my companion. I was mistaken to believe that my friendship with Yuu could be anything but…” He swallowed the grief and pride. “fragile and temporary, not when they were a mere mortal in my impossibly long life. Forgive me for being so blind and foolish to the truth.”

Malleus rested his forehead against your lap, already resigned to the silence that might stretch on forever. It wasn’t until he felt a hand prod him to raise his head did he obey.

Finally, you looked at him.

“I told you.” you whispered, caressing his cheeks with your thumbs. “You’ll come back to me. Because you just can’t live without me, can you?”

“Yes, yes, of course. You are the only I need in my life.”

Slowly, you smile widened just as your eyes glowed in the dimly-lit room.

The same confident and complacent smile that he once hated but now loved.

The same confident and complacent smile that told him you won this centuries-long game of cat and mouse.

“Good boy.”

[animeomegas]

amy i will kill for any and all shikamaru with his obsession hcs that you want to give us 😭 i miss my little guy (don't tell shikamaru that i called him that) also, how was your christmas? i hope you enjoyed it and had some fun with your loved ones! take care of yourself and have a good rest of your week <3

Okay, I decided to write a little piece of fanfiction for the Royal AU that @omeganronpa wrote for me here because I can't get it out of my head XD I hope you enjoy @raincosm

(And my holiday was great! Thank you for asking <333)

Warnings: panic attacks, mention of n-sfw but no description, vomit mentioned but not described.

...

You had attended about five family dinners with Shikamaru and his family now, and the atmosphere was always better than with your own family, even with a possible war looming on the horizon once your parents realised you didn’t plan on returning.

You imagined that they would assume you’d been kidnapped at first, but once they were aware of the new mating mark on your neck, you had no idea how they’d react.

Speaking of your new mark though, Shikamaru was staring at you from his seat beside you, a full spook on soup just lingering in the air between his bowl and his mouth. You tried to stifle a laugh. This Choosing thing had been even more intense than you’d expected, but between the crazy emotions and Shikamaru’s fainting the first time you’d tried to mate, you were actually starting to learn about him and heal from the long thirteen-year separation.

And it was pretty funny to watch Shikamaru fall over himself around you, if you were honest with yourself. Every report you’d heard about him throughout the years had spoken of his wicked intelligence and stoic attitude, but you had seen nothing but a loveable fool in him.

Being around Shikamaru’s parents had also been an unexpected joy. Admittedly, you had been overly focused on Shikamaru when imagining how your future would be, but Shikaku and Yoshino were amazing, even if they seemed to enjoy teasing you and Shikamaru a little too much.

“How are you enjoying the new suite?” Yoshino asked, directly her question to you. Shikamaru startled at the sudden conversation and finally put the soup in his mouth, his cheeks burning pink.

“It’s great!” you said honestly. You and Shikamaru had been moved together into a big suite once you had mated. “The view from the balcony is breath-taking.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Shikaku said, delicately biting into a bread roll. “Hopefully you won’t miss it too much during the Desensitisation training because you’ll both have to be in different rooms for a while.”

Shikamaru’s spoon clattered into his bowl, silencing the whole table.

“What?!” he asked, choking a little on his soup. “What-what are you talking about?”

Shikaku furrowed his brows like he wasn’t sure why Shikamaru would be asking such a question.

“Desensitisation training is mandatory for all biological Nara, Shikamaru, you know this.”

“But—” Shikamaru’s eyes were wide and panicked. “I’ve already done it! For thirteen years! Why would I—”

“That wasn’t Desensitisation training, darling,” Yoshino said softly, realising that Shikamaru was genuinely getting upset. “If anything, your bond is more intense after that, and you need the training more than anyone else.”

Shikamaru looked to you desperately, but you weren’t sure what else to do but grab his hand to try and comfort him. You were still out of your depth here and although it was hurting your chest to see Shikamaru distressed, surely his parents wouldn’t force him through something that he didn’t need to do.

“I refuse,” Shikamaru said bluntly. “I don’t want to.”

“You don’t get to refuse, Shikamaru,” Shikaku said, rolling his eyes. “No one likes to do it, but it’s a must for when you have duties that will separate you. You would never be able to become king without it.”

“Then I don’t want to be king!” Shikamaru said, voice raising. His hands were shaking. “I don’t want- I can’t—”

He looked at you again, and you could see his chest heaving irregularly; he was panicking. The situation was getting out of hand.

“Maybe we shouldn’t discuss this right now,” you said, reaching over to cup Shikamaru’s face to try and soothe him. Shikamaru’s hand clasped over your wrists tightly and refused to let go. “It’s alright, darling, deep breaths.”

It was clear that you weren’t succeeding in calming him down.

“Don’t leave,” he choked. His scent was so distressed it was making you feel unwell. He was spiralling completely. “Don’t leave, don’t leave me please! Please!”

“Shh, it’s okay,” you said, pushing your chair back from the table and standing up. Shikamaru followed, unwilling to let his grip on you go, stumbling in a desperate effort to keep you with him. You took him into your arms to try and he immediately buried his face into your neck, breathing harshly. “I think you’re having a panic attack, Shikamaru, you need to calm down.”

Both Shikaku and Yoshino stood as well, both looking incredibly concerned. You figured this wasn’t the normal reaction nor the reaction that they were expecting from Shikamaru.

“Son, it’s alright,” Shikaku said approaching warily. “We aren’t going to just separate you suddenly, I promise. We’re going to have a proper plan for doing this.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say because Shikamaru pulled his face from your neck and let out a ferocious growl, staring down his parents. When it became obvious that his increasingly panicked growling wasn’t enough to keep his parents from creeping closer, Shikamaru abruptly let go of you, darted towards the table and grabbed a steak knife.

Everyone gasped as he went back over to you and stood in front of you, knife raised towards Shikaku and Yoshino. Shikamaru’s hands were shaking, and he looked completely unhinged.

“G-get away from us, you can’t take them!”

Both of his parents froze, raising their hands to try and placate him.

“Alright, darling,” Yoshino said gently. “We won’t take them, I promise.”

Shikamaru let out a haggard breath, but he didn’t bring the knife down. Yoshino made significant eye contact with you, breaking you from your horrified stupor. You were probably the only person he wouldn’t attack right now, so it was up to you to disarm him.

“Shika,” you cooed, pressing up against him from behind. “We’re okay, we’re safe, I won’t let anyone force us apart.”

You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

“I’m going to take the knife, my love, please let me,” you whispered. Then, keeping your scent as comforting as you could you snaked a hand down his arm and wiggled the knife from his hand. He let you take it, and you threw it somewhere under the dining table so that he didn’t try to grab it again. The tension in the room dropped a little now that he was no longer armed.

Shikamaru seemed lost without the weapon. His eyes filled with tears, but before you could pull him back to you, he dropped to his knees and vomited on the floor. You stepped back automatically, but Shikamaru’s arm shot out and grabbed a handful of your shirt.

“Don’t, please, not again,” he begged between the gagging. “Please.”

Shikaku and Yoshino looked horrified. Those thirteen years had made more of an impact than previously assumed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said firmly, crouching down behind him and looping your arms around his waist. Your own emotions and instincts were all over the place, but you tried to push them down as much as you could.

Eventually, Shikamaru stopped being sick and leant back against you, whining, completely exhausted.

You purred so that he could feel the vibrations through your chest and then started gently rocking him back and forth.

“I—I—” he stuttered, starting to sob.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “You’re okay. We’re okay.”

You pulled him onto your lap so that his legs were wrapped around your waist and his head was resting on your shoulder. He was crying and it broke your heart. 

Shikaku and Yoshino tentatively walked over, watching for any negative reaction. When none came, they both crouched next to you, Yoshino rubbing Shikamaru’s back.

“We’re sorry, darling,” she whispered. “We won’t take them, we promise. We didn’t know it was going to upset you like that.”

Shikamaru sniffed but didn’t reply.

“No Nara that I know of has gone through a situation like yours,” Shikaku explained, resting a hand on Shikamaru’s head. “We didn’t know that things might need to be different for you because of that. We’re sorry, Shikamaru.”

You pressed a kiss onto his head.

“Why don’t you take Shikamaru back to your room?” Shikaku suggested, standing up. “We will come and make sure he is okay tomorrow morning.”

“That’s a good idea,” you agreed. “Come on, my sweetheart, let’s get us both tucked into bed.”