#but the angy can only be contained for so long

[shogvnate]

Insomnia. headcannons

re8 ladies with a s/o who's an insomniac

contains; mother miranda, mia winters, alcina dimitrescu, donna beneviento, bela dimitrescu, cassandra dimitrescu, daniela dimitrescu.

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warnings; none.

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🐦‍⬛ mother miranda

honestly she's also an insomniac herself so it's not really a problem for her

if you're not busy, she'll ask you to accompany her while she's doing late night experimenting.

she's… surprisingly domestic?

she doesn't talk much when it's late (she doesn't talk much in general though), and you don't either so it works out.

sometimes forgets that you're not a mutant like her, but when she remembers she'll help you fall asleep. She'll find a way, she's a scientist, after all, a mad one at that. Nothing is impossible with her.

entertains you with her crows if her experiments get too dangerous for you.

the type to make you play chess with her over a cup of tea.

you have zero idea how to play so she teaches you.

???

how did the two of you end up playing uno??

…

why are the two of you playing go fish now?

🪡 donna beneviento

also an insomniac

but she's not as noticeable because she wears a veil and no one really sees her face.

late night reading, not healthy for both of your eyes but who cares?

donna is surprisingly active at night (not like that).

living with her includes hearing the kitchen being rummaged at 3 am only to find out it's her trying to cook pasta.

either that or she's trying to find her missing tool.

she can be forgetful sometimes and you are too, but remember, two negatives makes a positive! (you two still haven't found where your blue pen went.)

makes you and herself some soothing lavender tea.

she wears her hair down when it's late, and she's fucking gorgeous goddamn.

the sight of her alone makes you sigh dreamily.

you don't need sleep, you're already living the dream.

angie bites your toes if you look at donna funny for too long.

🍷 alcina dimitrescu

for the love of all that is holy, please stop trying to scare the maidens, it's 2 in the morning.

she's very tired.

she's the opposite of an insomniac, her line of work makes her really cranky at night.

technically she doesn't need sleep, but it's refreshing so she does it and hates when she's disturbed.

just imagine having to be a single milf girlboss with a massive dump truck, must be tiring for her, damn.

sorry. anyway, she'll find a way to help you.

perhaps you need medicine? she can give the Duke a quick late night call and make either Cassandra or Bela fetch them (because she doesn't trust the maidens will come back alive if she sent them this late.)

sits up with you until you're tired, but all the time she'll look like someone who hadn't had a blink of sleep since 500 b.c.

you decide to help her sleep instead, you don't mind.

so you ended up being cuddled by her while she's in her deep sleep, yay!

❄ mia winters

she's tired, not like alcina kind of tired, but just tired.

at some point in the night, she noticed you're not sleeping next to her, again, which made her wake up and get you.

you make her feel safe and when you're not there she gets reminded of her Louisiana days, which, isn't fun.

depending on the day, she can either haul you back to bed for her to cuddle or ask you whether you need something to calm your nerves.

stays up with you, but falls asleep in the end.

cuddling on the sofa with her is heaven so you don't mind.

in the morning you'll be so sore and stiff though, because when she cuddles, she's not even a koala, she's literally merging with you.

her warmth usually brings you to sleep, it's likely her general comforting presence that helps you.

buys you medicine to help with your insomnia if you ask so, but she'll do it tomorrow.

for now, she'd like to rest.

🦇 bela dimitrescu

contrary to alcina, the three of her daughters, and especially, bela, are insomniacs.

they do random shit at 1 in the morning.

one time bela got dragged into having a karaoke session, which meant you also got dragged by the other two sisters (read: daniela).

it's fun though, you got a good laugh from them.

which is great considering your insomnia is making you more and more mentally exhausted.

once they all let their energy out, bela can finally get some time with you.

bela may or may not bring you to her bedroom, depending on whether or not her sisters will tease her for it.

doesn't know how to make tea, so don't hope she does or ask her for it.

silence.

it gets really awkward when she's just sitting there staring at you and expecting you to just get bored and sleep.

you end up having candlelit dinner? breakfast? at 3 am.

🗡️ cassandra dimitrescu

as mentioned before she also has insomnia. she sometimes still manages to sleep though, but it usually happens at day or at random times.

after the whole late night shenanigans, usually she's the most tired because she matches daniela's endless energy but also bela's crankiness.

she enjoys laying down doing particularly nothing so expect her to lay on the same bed as you while staring blankly at the ceiling.

when asked she usually takes a few moments to respond, and as it turns out, she accidentally slept with her eyes open. kinda neat.

she's also like daniela, she can't sit still.

may make random small talks before she just… had it.

so she decided to ask you to spar with her in the armor room.

if you're tired, she'll suggest doing something else like taking a walk around the castle.

one time she's feeling generous, she actually asked you to waltz on the grand hall.

she still remembers the steps despite being dead for God knows how long but you absolutely have zero idea how to waltz.

and you're losing your shit whenever she smiles at you softly.

how uncharacteristic for the murderous vampire who gouged a maid's eyes out for looking at you wrong.

needless to say, your nights are always productive with cassandra.

🌹 daniela dimitrescu

with daniela, it's like gambling your sanity.

there's half the chance that she's feeling hyper that night, or the other being that she's feeling hella tired and doesn't want to be disturbed by the maids. (meaning if she sees someone messing up while she's in this mood, there'll be one more barrel in the cellar.)

either way, none of them meant anything good for you.

drags you to the library to read her stories, more often than not, she's asking you to read her fairy tales which is super valid. I also love them.

makes you play with her hair while you're reading.

very unpredictable, no wonder she's dimitrescu's wild card.

she sleeps when her energy runs out, which may take a long time.

she sleep talks, mostly slurring out your name or whining about how cassandra is always so unfair to her.

softly snores

you always end up being the one cleaning her mess if a maid died that day.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

HELLO!!

IMAGINE IF DONNA SEES ANOTHER VILLAGER FLIRTING WITH THE READER AND SHE GETS EXTREMELY JEALOUS? Like, the villager is being a creep and Donna scares him away. Then, she brings the reader straight back home and fucks her until she can only think of Donna and nothing else.

And then there is some happy cuddles at the end :D

Yess!!! Here it is!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :))))

You belong to me

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem!! Reader

Warnings: smut, jealousy, possessive Donna, slightly dark themes, fluff

Word count: 4,463

Summary:  You are hers, and she wants you to remember it

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! Yes, two requests in one day, I had a day off, so I could do it :))) I love you all!!!

“To the village, to the village! Let's go to the village!” Angie hummed, while you and Donna walked slowly through the forest, already seeing the wooden gate that delimited the Beneviento lands.

“For Gods’ sake, Donna, make her shut up...” You sighed through your teeth, shaking the hand of the woman in black, who laughed half-heartedly.

“I'm sorry, (Y/N), but I'm afraid you brought this on yourself,” the woman in black said, whispering, letting her words get confused with the wind.

“Me?” You asked, pointing to yourself and stopping walking.

“Who has the idea of going shopping to the village?” The woman asked, with a certain tone of pride. You rolled your eyes and shook your head.

“It was my idea, but...” You started to say, frowning.

“So, Angie being overexcited is because of you,” Donna said, gently pulling your hand so you walked next to her.

“Come on, Donna... It would be really good for us to take a walk around the village,” you sighed, making the woman stop and look at you through her horrible black veil.

“I don't know why,” she complained again.

You sighed and rolled your eyes for the third time in that short walk.

Your romance with one of the village Lords was going great. After meeting the mysterious Donna Beneviento, you knew that there was no place in the world that wasn't next to her, at least for you. To really get to know her took you a lot of time, to understand her feelings, her frustrations, her fears... But you did it, and you didn't regret it at all. You loved her and she loved you. You didn't need anything else, you didn't want anything else.

“Stop complaining, tesoro...” You said in a mocking tone, emphasizing that word which she used to address you.

“Are you making fun of me?” She asked, knowing it was on purpose. Well, that was your intention.

“Yes,” you said without any problem, moving forward and slightly lifting her veil so you could steal a kiss from her, one of those stolen kisses that drove you crazy, and you suspected that her too.

Donna sighed, unable to contain the urge to caress your cheek gently. It was a romantic moment, one of those moments that you loved, in silence, just looking at each other. Too bad you weren't alone in that forest.

“Hey! Hey!” Angie shouted, trying to separate you when the kisses returned, slow, affectionate... “Stop doing that, now!”

“Angie,” you growled, covering your lover's face again and clenching your fists tightly.

“Forgive me, I'm nervous,” Donna said, taking your hand again and gently stroking it with her thumb. “I haven't been to the village for a long time.”

“Don't worry, I'm with you,” you said, turning to continue walking, before she once again pitied you enough to go back home.

Fortunately, there were not many people. It's not like you were taking a walk either. Shopping was a priority and, to be honest, you didn't really want to explain things to your old acquaintances either. You knew your relationship was known, but you hadn't had the chance to check out their reactions to it. It was better that way.

“But what do my eyes see...” a familiar and sarcastic voice said. The Duke, a greedy unscrupulous merchant, the only bastion of commerce in the village, laughed with pleasure when you approached his usual stall. It was very strange not to see that man in his carriage.

“Hi, Duke, how is everything going?” You said with a kind smile. You got along quite well.

“Great, Miss, (Y/N). Lady Beneviento, it is an honor to see you in my humble store,” – the man said, bowing to show respect. You knew it was just courtesy; he could be as powerful as any of the Lords.

“Do you call this a store?” Angie mocked, in Donna's arms, speaking for her. Poor woman, she will never lose the habit of speaking through the devilish puppet. Even having kissed you, she had a hard time letting you hear her real voice.

“Well, I sell things so... Yes, it's a store,” the man responded, politely, rubbing his hands.

“Do you have fabrics?” Angie asked, along with an impatient sigh from her owner.

“The best fabrics for you, Lady Beneviento,” the merchant replied.

You looked at the sky, knowing that this transaction was going to take a while. Donna was very meticulous with her work. She was not going to choose the first fabric that was offered to her. A familiar smell reached your nostrils.

“Chestnuts...” You said, licking your lips, searching with your eyes closed for the source of that aroma. You soon located it. Mrs. Ionut, that adorable old woman, continued doing what she liked best, and what you liked best.

“Donna, give me a moment,” you said, putting a hand on her shoulder while your girlfriend checked the quality of some fabrics.

“Mm?” She murmured quietly, without looking at you.

“I'm going to go get some roasted chestnuts if you don't mind,” you said in a friendly tone, rubbing your hands due to the cold. “With this cold they will be very handy.”

A mourning hand grabbed your wrist almost immediately.

“Are you going to leave me alone?” Donna asked, making sure that no one but you was listening to her.

“No, no, no,” you said, taking her hand to loosen her grip on your dress. “It will only be a moment, and I will be right there.”

The lady in black let you go and nodded slowly.

“Thank you,” you said as you paid the old woman, delaying your return to that boring fabric display for a bit.

Leaning against a small wall, you looked around, letting the memories of your childhood in the village make you a bit nostalgic, just a bit.

“I can't believe it... (Y/N)?” a voice behind you said, startling you. A young boy, your same age, jumped over that small wall, standing in front of you with his hands on his hips.

“Oh, hello Adrian...” You murmured half-heartedly. Yes, you knew him, unfortunately.

“Wow, wow, wow... You've grown a lot, huh?” the boy said, leaning next to you, too close.

“It's what people do, grow,” you said disinterested. At that moment you wanted to see fabrics with Donna more than talking to your old school friend.

“People? You are still a person?” He asked with a mocking tone and a smile that made you chill.

“I don't know,” you said with the same sarcastic tone. It was not enough for Adrian to understand that you wanted him to disappear.

“Do you know what I don't know? Where have you been all this time,” he said, giving you a nasty elbow that made you clench your teeth tightly.

“That's none of your business,” you whispered, putting the rest of the chestnuts in your bag.

“Wow, I think it is. They say you go around with strange company now,” he said, pretending to speak in a low voice.

“Don't tell me,” you sighed, looking for Donna with your eyes.

“It is said that you have gotten into bed with Lady Beneviento... You couldn't settle for a simple villager, could you? You always had very high expectations...” The boy said, making your face turn red with shame and anger.

“You're right, that's why I never wanted to have nothing to do with you,” you commented, being as direct as possible.

“Oh, come on, don't talk to me that way, we were good friends, do you remember?” The young man insisted, wearing down your patience more and more.

“I try to forget about traumas,” you said, separating yourself from the wall and ready to leave. His rough hand grabbed your wrist, dragging you next to him again.

“Wait, wait, where are you going so fast?” He whispered in a tone that made you want to vomit.

“I have more important things to do, Adrian.”

“Oh really? Hey, is that true?” He asked not wanting to let you go. Your patience had been exhausted for a long time.

“What is true?”

“You already know… Lady Beneviento is freaking crazy. It must be exhausting putting up with a woman like that, right?” He said in your ear, making you immediately push him away and grab his handkerchief.

“Say that again, you piece of shit, and I swear I'll give you such a kick right in the balls that you are going to see all the stars in the Universe,” you threatened. Your words only made his smile grow.

“I'm just saying what they say out there,” he said, with his hands in a position of surrender. You shook your head, stopping the growing desire of your fist to crash into his face.

“Why don't you go to stalk someone else?” You asked, crossing your arms and turning around again. This time his grip went directly to your waist. You tried to break away, but you couldn't.

“Come on, come on, (Y/N)... You and I don’t have to repress feelings...” He said disgustingly in your ear, making you gag.

“Hey, let me go,” you protested, putting your hands on his chest to push him away. It was useless. He was much stronger than you.

“Stop denying yourself what you feel...” Adrian whispered in that disgusting tone again, getting closer and closer to you. “Let me show you that I… What?”

His gaze was lost behind your shoulders, which made you free yourself from his grip.

“A, mo, mo, mo mo...” He stammered, pale with fear of something you couldn't see. “A monster!” He screeched with a high-pitched voice as he hurriedly fled through the orchards.

You laughed satisfied, knowing it wasn't a coincidence. When you turned around, Donna, with the doll in her arms, was there.

“Oh, thank goodness...” You said, with a hand on your chest, approaching her “Thank you for getting rid of him. I guess now Adrian will think twice before...”

“Shut up,” Donna said, interrupting you abruptly, unpleasantly, something unlike her.

You made an effort to say something, but you were quite confused by that attitude.

“Let's go home,” she said next, grabbing your hand even tighter than Adrian, dragging you through the snow while you tried not to trip.

“Hey, hey, Donna, what's wrong with you?” You asked, pulling her to let you go, making you almost fall into the snow.

She didn't respond, she took your hand again in a more abrupt way and dragged you through the forest until you reached the old estate again.

“Come in,” she said, opening the door and pushing you inside. You were confused and you weren't going to deny it, a bit scared.

“What’s wrong, Donna? What is all this about?” You asked, rubbing your sore hand.

The lady in black removed the veil from her face, revealing an expression of deep pain, of uncontrollable anger that you didn’t understand.

“What are you about, (Y/N)? Do you think you can laugh at me?” Donna asked, her entire body trembling, her knuckles white as she pressed them on either side of her hips.

“What? Donna, come on, calm down,” you said, thinking it could be a crisis, that her head had chosen a bad moment to destabilize, something that happened less and less frequently.

“Don't play dumb...” She hissed, getting dangerously close to you. “I saw what you did with that boy.”

“Oh, yes, pure love...” You said ironically, laughing, crossing your arms and shaking your head, incredulously.

“Does it seem fun to you? You flirt with a boy in front of me, and you laugh?” She asked with her eye wide open, breathing faster and faster. “Sei una cagna…”

Faced with that insult, your body acted alone, slapping the face of the woman in black with a look of pride.

“What the…?” She hissed with a hand on her cheek, looking at you with a hatred you had never seen before.

“I'm sorry, Donna. I’ve understood you. You’ve insulted me for no reason and that has offended me,” you explained, without leaving aside that cocky tone. You were sure the brunette weren't right.

Donna shifted in place, looking for an answer or a punishment for such audacity. In its place, her face relaxed and lowered her head, pursing her lips.

“I'm sorry, it was inappropriate. I shouldn't have insulted you,” she said with a low voice, unable to recognize that she had made a mistake.

“Well, well...” You said, looking at your nails coldly. “Apologies accepted.”

Donna nodded, shaking her head and grabbing you by the shoulders as you were about to leave.

“Don't you think you owe me an apology too?” She asked with that dangerous tone again. You stood frozen in place, grimacing tiredly.

“Why do I have to apologize? I haven't done anything,” you said with a frown and your hands outstretched as a sign of ignorance.

“I think you have, (Y/N), you have broken your word,” she said, cornering you against a wall.

“My word? What are you talking about? Donna... My love, you are very nervous... Let me prepare something for you to relax...” You said with a more understanding tone.

“I don't want to relax!” She screamed, kicking the ground childishly, like a little girl who was having a tantrum. “I want you to explain to me why you were flirting with that stronzo!”

“Flirting? Oh, okay… okay… I think, I think you're wrong,” you said, laughing nervously, rubbing her arms so she would relax a bit.

“I know what I saw,” she murmured, pushing your hands away in the same unpleasant and abrupt manner. “That boy was... Groping you...”

“Do you think I wanted him to do it?” You asked, this time offended by that accusation.

“I don't know, (Y/N)... You promised me that only I could touch you, that I was the only person in your life!”

“You are! Damn it, Donna... Let's see... You can't be jealous of something that hasn't happened,” you said, controlling your nerves, the desire you had to beg forgiveness for something you hadn't done, the desire you had for your love  to believe you and come to her senses.

Her heavy breathing calmed down, but her eye still looked at you with hatred, with resentment. You took advantage of that small silence to bring your hands to her face, wiping away the tear that was running down her cheek.

“Donna, my love...” You whispered in a loving tone, trying to keep her gaze in yours. “That guy is an idiot… I have never felt anything for him in my life. Well yes, disgust. Nothing else, darling... You are the love of my life... I will never cheat on you, I promise you...”

She nodded, letting her forehead rest against yours. Her sobs and the tremors of her body told you that she didn't believe you.

“Seeing you next to that boy... I... It was horrible...” She whispered, well, she sobbed. You closed your eyes and kissed her forehead in understanding.

“It’s over, Donna. You’ve scared him, you’ve fought for me and you’ve won...” You said, bringing her head to rest on your shoulder.

Her embrace was almost desperate, pulling tightly at the fabric of your dress, as if she feared that if she didn't hug you tightly enough, she would lose you. It was always her biggest fear, losing you. You couldn't blame her for losing her mind over her only hell, a life without you.

“I want, I want you to be mine... Only mine, (Y/N)” she said, separating herself, her voice slightly dark.

“And I’m... I’m only yours,” you said, approaching her lips, kissing them tenderly until she kissed you back after a few confused and tense moments.

“No... No, it's not enough,” she said, shaking her head and breathing hard again. “I want you to think about me, only about me…”

That slightly different tone made you raise your eyebrows, not being able to stop your face from breaking into a mischievous smile.

“Oh, and how are you going to get that? My mind thinks about many things...” You whispered seductively in her ear, biting the lobe gently. Donna looked at you confused by your attitude, but she soon smiled in a similar way.

“After this, honey... It won't...” The lady in black whispered, running a finger along your neck, sending hundreds of electric shocks through your nervous system.

“Test me,” you hissed, biting your lip and leaning against the wall. Donna's smile widened even more, grabbing your hair and pulling it so she could kiss you again, this time in a hot, dominant way, something that was very rare to see from the lady in black. You were going to enjoy that.

The gasps didn't take long to come. Donna's hands and body against yours made clear her intention to not let you escape, to make you hers, to make your mind not think about anything else. She would never know but… She had already achieved it, a long time ago.

You moaned when, in the middle of that tangle of kisses and messy caresses, her thigh settled between yours, making you sway with a burning desire, wanting more and more contact.

“Look at you, (Y/N)... Are you anxious?” She asked mockingly, enjoying your erratic movements.

You nodded, not even letting her words cloud your desire, lunging at her neck to bite it, clawing at her back, hanging on to her as she laughed contentedly.

“Donna...” You moaned when the heat that the clothes gave you began to become unbearable. “Please…”

She pulled away and gaped at you. She couldn't help but have that tender look, although a dark shadow bathed her expression.

“Come,” she said, removing her leg and dragging you through the house toward the elevator.

The descent was slow, which led to the wild kisses continuing, your body clinging to hers almost desperately. Donna panted nervously, with the same eager desire as you, but this time she wasn't going to give up easily, somehow, she felt like she had to punish you somehow.

As her kisses deepened, her hand moved up your leg, scratching your skin, marking you like an animal making it clear what its territory was. You moaned at the sensation, beginning to unbutton her dress.

“Stay still,” Donna said to you, gently pushing you against the wall of the elevator. “I want you to really want it, (Y/N), I want you to want me...” She whispered in your ear, rubbing your underwear under your dress, running her finger over your already wet and hot folds. Apparently she found that amusing.

“I hope I caused this...” The lady in black said amused, increasing the intensity of her caresses between your legs, pressing your clit, but without putting her hand in your underwear, which made you moan in frustration.

“Yes, Donna...” You managed to say, closing your eyes from the pleasure that her simple touch caused in your body. “Please, do it to me now… Right here, I need you…”

“No, tesoro...” She said, shaking her head and removing the hand from your wetness. “That's not enough.”

“Please...” You begged pathetically, attacking her dress again. “I want you, only you…”

“Do you?” She asked, with a slightly kinder smile, but with a mocking tone, also revealing her own desire. “How much do you want me?”

“So much...” You sighed, putting your hand through her covered chest, letting out your desire in the form of soft caresses on her breasts through the black fabric. Donna closed her eyes and shook her head.

“No, no...” She said with an evil smile, removing your hand and putting it against the wall, making the entire cabin move. “How much do you want me? She asked again, against your lips, removing the soaked fabric of your underwear and caressing you inside, playing at your entrance, causing you to seriously tremble.

“So, so much...” You gasped, spreading your legs to give her more access, which she didn't take advantage of. No, she wasn't going to do it until you said what she wanted to hear. The situation was getting more and more exciting.

“Tell me, (Y/N), are you thinking about me?” She asked, stopping her caresses until she heard your answer.

You could only nod, moving so her hand slid further into your folds.

“Oh, and what are you thinking about?” Donna asked again, resuming her movements, making you moan again.

“I think, I think that I want you to fuck me...” You said with a gasp, noticing how the tip of her finger was brushing your entrance, just brushing it. That game was going to finish you.

“But how rude, (Y/N), you know I don't like when you talk like that,” she said, clicking her tongue. “Say it, tesoro.”

“What?” You asked confused.

“Say you're mine,” she said with a dark look, raising her free hand up your immobilized arm, leaving marks where her nails passed. “Say it and I may grant your wish.”

“Fuck…” You huffed, looking away from her and grabbing her wrist to push her hand right where you needed it. She frowned, but she let your hand guide her movements.

“What have you said?” She hissed arrogantly. You shook your head.

“I'm yours, Donna... Only yours. Only you can touch me, only you can... Oh, Gods, please...”  You stammered, moaning when she finally acceded to your wishes, inserting two fingers into your entrance, curling them right where she knew you couldn't resist.

“Shhh, that's it, good girl...” Donna said with a triumphant smile, looking for the most comfortable position for you.

She couldn't pretend she was that way, she just couldn't. Knowing that behind that strange game of domination a fragile heart hid, that Donna would give her own life rather than harm you, only increased your desire more.

Her hand moved slowly, but with intensity, making you enjoy every caress, every gasp that her lips emitted when she touched you that way.

“Oh, Donna,” you moaned, burying your head in her shoulder as she held you, while she made love to you in a different, strange way, but one that you would definitely want to repeat.

“That's it, say my name...” She said, increasing her speed, making your body almost destabilize. “Say it”

“Donna…”

“Who do you belong to, (Y/N)?” She asked, stopping just when your walls were ready to contract, just when your body was already preparing the best orgasm of your life. -Answer, or I won't continue!

“You, I’m yours! Please, I want, I want...”  You screamed, slapping her back comically, making her laugh softly as she continued to move inside you, making you finally, and after a gasp that surely traumatized Angie, manage to release yourself.

“(Y/N)...” Donna whispered, caressing your heated cheeks. “I love you…”

“I love you, Donna...” You said, throwing yourself into her arms innocently. “I will never love anyone else… I promise you.”

“I know,” she said, separating, with a confused look. “But I don't want to talk anymore. I think you have to do something for me.”

You nodded amused, tugging at her dress to pull her towards you as she awkwardly shifted out of the elevator.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked, undressing completely and flopping onto the bed. She looked at your sweaty body and reached down to caress your legs, getting lost in the softness of your skin.

“Stay still,” she ordered you, to which you nodded.

Her hands went down to her dress, getting under it.

You stood stunned, watching as her underwear fell to her ankles, with her dress almost intact if it weren't for the buttons you managed to undo earlier.

“You're going to think only about me, (Y/N)... You're only going to see me... Nothing else, nor anyone else,” she said with a serious tone, almost growling because of the humidity that would surely be between her legs. With a movement similar to that a predator would make when hunting its prey, she climbed your body, kissing every part she found, every inch of your skin she ran over.

Her ascent up your body didn’t stop until, lifting her dress, Donna placed her knees on the mattress, on either side of your head. Just that sight was enough for you to discreetly lower your hand to an area that became moist again.

“Oh... (Y/N)” Donna moaned, covering you with her dress as your mouth made contact with her wetness. You had never done anything like this but, like that improvised act in the elevator, you would repeat.

Donna wasn't lying. In your eyes, in your touch, in your entire being, there was only her, her warmth, her wetness, the sweet smell of her arousal. You were hers, in that moment you were Donna, you were part of her.

Her hips moved slowly as your tongue struggled to cover everything within reach. The sensation of moaning against her body increased as your naughty hand was unfaithful to the lady in black, rubbing yourself as you enjoyed her taste.

It wasn't long before another indiscreet scream, followed by a word you didn't understand, filled the walls of the room.

Donna relaxed and moved away from you, finally getting rid of the annoying fabric of her dress and approaching you with a confused look, kissing you, tasting herself on your mouth.

Silence was necessary. Your breathing was agitated, your chest rose and fell rapidly, but it didn’t prevent you from hugging each other affectionately, from resting your head on her chest, now naked.

“Donna,” you said, with reason already recovered and with that unfortunate argument in mind. “About that boy, I don't…”

The brunette interrupted you with a soft kiss, her caresses touching your face.

“Don't say it, (Y/N)... I know, I... I'm so sorry,” she said with her head down, kissing your forehead and looking at you sincerely, tenderly.

“I promised you that I would be loyal to you and I plan to keep my promise,” you said seriously, sounding as sincere as possible. “I'm yours.”

“And I'm yours, (Y/N),” Donna said suddenly. “May Mother Miranda curse me if I dare to hurt you.”

“That's... Nice, I guess...” You said amused, earning a soft smack on her shoulder.

“I can't do it better,” she replied, lowering herself until she was level with your lips, smiling against them, rubbing her nose against yours.

“No? Well, I think what you did to me was pretty good,” you joked, raising and lowering your eyebrows. Her cheek turned red instantly.

“I, I guess,” she said, turning around to hide her embarrassment. You moved, leaning over her body and resting your head on her shoulder.

“Yes, besides, you have achieved your goal. I can't stop thinking about you...”

[liggy-not-potter]

intro post

welcome to my page! this is going to be my pinned post so if you’re seeing this on your dash, you’re good to just scroll if you want :))

welcome to hell

hello :3 you can call me liggy, i go by she/her pronouns but it’s not like i’ll stab you if you mess up somehow and misgender me.

hobbies

i’m a freaking nerd, so book and movie recs are welcome! i’m in a lot of fandoms, so i probably can’t list them all here. harry potter, both canon era and marauders (fuck jkr) and the fanfic i’m writing where harry has a sister no one knew abt. (posting that on ao3 soon). legendborn by tracy deonn, percy jackson (i’m not done with it so no spoilers please), mcu, the owl house, gravity falls, amphibia

i write songs and poetry, i play piano, ukulele, violin and guitar i like drawing but i’m not very good at it all the time, i have thousands of failed art pieces.

dni

the usual. if you discriminate against any minorities or hate people solely because of a group they belong to (religion/lack thereof, race, sexuality, gender orientation) WE DO NOT USE SLURS ON MY PAGE. i don’t give two shits about swearing but slurs are a no no

more random shit about liggy

i have celiacs disease as i’ve mentioned a few times on other posts, so i can’t have anything containing wheat, and i make jokes about it

i have adhd and possible bipolar disorder. i’m a mess, but at least i’m not boringly neurotypical ur local owl (do not ask questions) i’m a minor so don’t be creepy, i don’t care abt interacting with adults as long as you aren’t being a creep gryffindor - enfp

i’m married to @melonhead10. you hear that? she’s mine. go find your own lovable dorky goof, this one’s taken. my children are @0urazz and @crowleys-mortalcounterpart.

the rats (my moots) @jamespotterbbg — kay — my first moot, chaotic, mentally ill as the rest of this site, is the reason i’ve even interacted with half of these people @garden-of-runar — runaround — talented poet, fellow defender of bagels, turns into a different country every other week @melonhead10 — wife of mine — silly little rat, one of the only people on here i know irl, rarely online bc strict parents, if she is online it’s to look at shiny duo and tangled the series @ethanmilo — british ethan — the gay dad friend of this whole hellsite. king of deactivating and coming back out of nowhere. happily in love with @prongsbitch @prongsbitch — james the baked bean — short, gay and irresponsible. has too many doggies but we don’t care bc doggies are great. changes his url every two seconds. in love with @ethanmilo @tequilaqueen — bea — possibly an alcoholic, you’ll never know. hates bagels and commits war crimes. @picklerab23 — dill — lives in a jar on a shelf in a grocery store in wales. speaks in consonants and y’s. @crowleys-mortalcounterpart — brie cheese — my child. genderfluid remus lupin. descendant of the scottish black douglass. (aka they’re fucking scary when angy) i also know them irl. @thejudeduarte (idk ur online name if it’s something other than jude duarte lol) — cruel prince and legendborn fan. really nice and sometimes chaotic. @iamaladder — stepladder (ethan’s version) — chaotic aarakocra boi, old crusty man (in other words a year older than me) another person i know irl (if u want to be added ask me, i just gotta save it for now)

interactions

blow up my ask box, tag me on stuff, and message me all you want. i love being on here and talking to people and making friends <3

my pinterest poetry side blog: @liggy-attempts-poetry ask game: here moodboard on banner by @cheekyboybeth my tags: liggy rambles: all my random ass posts liggy found an ask: i answer asks liggy special: i most likely did something fucking stupid to the queue you go motherfucker: my queued posts, most likely because i’m out of town cus haven’t ever got post blocked yet

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil's Den

Chapter 34:  In Which The Harbinger Brings More Questions Than Answers

!::TW::! this chapter contains mention of a gun, not use of it, but mention. just fyi.

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

You were missing Alcina fiercely.

It was going on day five of not seeing her and you were, as usual, restless. It didn't always feel this way when she was gone, but the long absences always had you on the edge of your seat; the anxiety and unwanted worry of something being wrong was always poking your mind. You didn't really doubt that most things that involved the underworld and whatever happenings went on there very likely included shit of the dangerous nature, so, you could only give your brain and intuition props for somehow feeling it. Even though it bugged. 

You remembered all too well what Alcina's body had looked like after the more than week-long absence from you. What the fuck she fought with you still don't know, doubted you ever would, so what other information did your mind have to work off of to try and blindly put puzzle pieces together. Yes, you told yourself time and time again she could take care of herself. But. What if one day she couldn't? What would happen if she just stopped coming to see you altogether? Would Angie at least come tell you what happened? Would you just be left to wonder what happened to the woman you loved more than anything for the rest of your days, never to have an absolution? 

And then, there was the matter of that dream you'd had a few nights back. It still sprinkled shivers down your spine. Alcina, tall, gaunt, covered in blood, baring her teeth and telling you she'd kill you too; she was a monster after all. 

A big sighed took pity on you and helped pull you from your funk.

The office was pretty quite today luckily but you were itching to get out of there. Another bit of luck ended with an all-hands meeting for your department cutting short after one of the big-wigs stopped halfway through a sentence, put his palm to the side of his head, complained of a searing pain, and left with a migraine. You don't really remembered what he was drawling on about either, you were focused solely on how much you couldn't stand to listen to him talk and how badly you wanted him to shut the fuck up, therefore you couldn't help but chuckle when he was forced to. No one liked that asshole anyway and everyone was relieved to get cut loose sooner than later. 

Finally the 4 o'clock hour rolled around and you excused yourself early for the weekend, internally wishing you would see Alcina tonight, or at least briefly this weekend. God you missed her.

Today was a calmer, less than frigid bitching bitter cold day. The sun was out and gave everything a little lick of its warmth before disappearing behind the glass and steel columns of the cityscape.

And, there again, was that feeling that something wasn't right.

"Malka!"

Caught your attention from above.

"Malka! Malka!"

Here came one of your crow friends, Ebony by the looks of it, swooping around and by you, finally perching on a fence next to you.

Was it saying Malka?

"Awk, awk - Malka - Malka!"

There was no way in hell this bird was shouting 'Malka'.

It began to hop and flutter its wings, dashing to and froe on the sturdy rock ledge, eying you, bobbing its head, cawing and without a doubt saying Malka's name.

"No," you muttered as Ebony took flight into the air, swinging around you to land once more on the fence, "Malka?" you repeated back trying to understand the whole of this.

Ebony cawed long and hard and finally took flight towards that end of the street where Malka's shop resided.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me," was all you managed before you took off after the bird.

The unnerving feeling from before became stronger and stronger as you were approaching the shop, and your mind immediately let your intuition take charge and instead of running around front, you took a sharp turn into the tiny alley behind it and to the back entrance. You keyed in the passcode to the number lock and let yourself in as fast and silently as possible. 

Nothing looked out of the ordinary in the storage room, but suddenly a shout echoed its way through to you. It was a mans voice, no doubt, and carefully you slinked your way from the back to Malka's station behind the counter.

From the doorway and tinted glass, you could see three teenagers on the other side of the counter from Malka; two had knives, one, had a gun.

The utter rage and protective instinct inside of you seemed to emerge from your very veins like a hatchling of a million spiders - you were crawling with energy you couldn't control, everything darkened around you, all you could see was a gun in Malka's face and the three cretins of chaos in front of her.

Fire was not how you would describe this feeling, perhaps the sensation of frost bite would be more accurate of the sensation on your face and in your fingertips. It was as hot as it was freezing cold. It was spreading, covering you from head to toe.

You had lost all control over your body as you began to step from around the barrier, your eyes locked on the teenagers in a blink-less stare.

Each one of them suddenly became impaired, fighting from doubling over, dropping their weapons as they grabbed for their heads and groaned, pained yelps now filling the space that had otherwise been void of all noise at all around you.

By the time you'd stopped not 5 feet from behind Malka, they were screaming and haphazardly trying to run out of the store, knocking several shelves and cases over as they did. 

Malka dropped her arms and turned to find you there still as a statue, face void and eyes paralyzed from any movement or emotion.

"Oh dear... ketzeleh," she sighed, reaching for your arms, tugging at you, "honey, look at me - focus - come back, come back slowly."

You were completely frozen in time, like you were dumbstruck from sleep and barely able to respond to what was happening. You could see Malka, though she was fuzzy, and you could hear her, though it sounded as if you were under water. But when she grasped your hands there was a cool sensation that now washed down your system that seemed to brush off the remaining faded reality you'd been caught in.

"M-Malka," you sputtered, blinking your vision clear, "a... are you alright?"

She nodded knowingly and wrapped your hands up tighter, "yes, yes, come now, sit."

"W-wait, wait, we need to call the cops! We need to get those little fuckers reported!"

The bitterness of the night had now settled in as the two of you spoke to the police. Malka, the quick thinker she was, told them your surprise visit had scared them off, causing them to drop their weapons and run. Even the cops didn't seem to buy it, but trying to explain whatever the fuck had really gone down didn't seem feasible.

As you were pulling your coat around you just a bit tighter, you noticed your family of crows now perched in the tree adjacent the shop. All warm, beady little eyes watching the whole situation. You couldn't help but nod at them gratefully. Had Ebony not come, you'd hoped the worst that would have happened was Malka getting robbed. Another shudder ran through you.

"Alright, well, we'll get their descriptions out and we'll keep you posted," an officer said, "you two ladies get home. We'll take it from here."

Malka brushed them off with a flick of her wrist and grabbed for you, "come, tea upstairs."

You were still caught in a funk. You whole body was just vibrating. You felt calm and energized and anxious and like you were about to spin out of control all at once. It wasn't totally pleasant.

There was a hot cup of tea placed in your hands. You had nestled into the cushy forest green couch and Leo was immediately in your lap, his purrs and mews softening your overall confusion and bafflement as he began making very gentle biscuits on your thighs.

Everything was pretty much a blur. Though as time seemed to creep on it began to become slightly clearer. You remember much more now the physical sensations that ran through you; the burning, the overwhelm, the paralysis, the rage, the need to protect. You remember how something inside you took over, what that something was was about as clear as the rest of it. It was almost as if Alcina herself had imbued you; the protective instincts you'd always had came flooding forth with vigor; blooming, blossoming, pluming, all encapsulating, and it took charge. It felt so similar to her love and protection that it was  like she was there, all around you, helping you, controlling you even. But that simply couldn't be. And it was too familiar to never have felt it before. None of this made any sense. Did you, whatever happened to you in that moment, did you make the attackers crumble and fall away? Run like their lives depended on it? What the literal fuck was going on?

Eventually gazing over to Malka who had perched on her own little rocking chair, you took a small sip and noticed she was watching you very, very closely.

The silence was deafening.

"I uh... don't suppose you know what happened tonight, do you?"

Her eyes glittered, "not all of it."

Not all of it.

Oh. Ok. 

The fuck did that mean???

You slumped further into the couch, "do you know something about me that I don't?" you blurted.

Malka, ever cryptic but warm and knowing, set her teacup down on the saucer and locked her eyes on you, "specifics, no, but you are special, ketzeleh. I knew from the moment I met you, you had a gift; little sparks of an olde world deep inside of you just begging to be shown the light."

There wasn't really any stopping the furrowing of your eyebrows. What the fuck did that mean?!

"Could you please stop speaking on riddles?"

She tsked, "I'm a mad, old Jewish woman, that's my job!" she jested with a grin, "what fun would it be if I spoke as dully as you minnealala's anyhow."

Malka took another sip of her tea nonchalantly and you just stared at her. This afternoon was a bit earth shattering for you and she was sitting there as if it was just another day, just another totally normal incident to have three goons hold her at gun point and the little neighbor gal come by with some sort of witchy powers and send them running off with their tails between their legs.

"Please, for the love of god Malka, what is happening to me?"

She considered your question with more sobriety and placed her teacup on the coffee table as she came to sit next to you, her face softer as she grasped your free hand, "I don't know exactly."

"You said you knew I was special, what does that mean?" you pleaded.

"Let me tell you something that I think you're ready to hear..." Malka began, her voice low yet calm, "I am a mystic, from a long line of Jewish Mysticism; the olde magick, that's what I come from. And we... we sense, we know things, among much much else. And you my dear, I felt your magick from the moment you walked through my shop door for the first time."

What.

"Magick?" you repeated, "what do you mean magick?"

"Do you remember what I said to you the other night?" she asked, waiting for your nod, "your gifts, which I do not know specifics, are finally coming through."

If you hadn't already been in a spiral, you sure as hell were now.

Magick? Gifts? Did this explain so much of the weird ass shit that had been happening to you recently?

"You know," Malka continued, "I have felt your power grow stronger through the last several months... is that when you began seeing this person?"

Your eyes, which had been fixated on the coffee table while your thoughts were going apeshit in your brain, now jerked to look at the old woman next to you and your jaw hung loose.

"How did - ?"

She chuckled, "I know things, remember? Though you all but admitted it to me the other night, I am more or less just curious."

You had to swallow your words as they felt like they were all about to fall out of your mouth, "Uhm, yes... I - I met her in the spring," you managed to say with a breath.

Malka hummed even more knowingly and stroked her thumb over the back of your knuckles, "she is the one you came to get pasta for, mm?"

"N-no, she doesn't - uh - " oh right, how the fuck were you supposed to tell her you were dating a vampire in any sane timeline, but without your permission your big mouth continued, "she doesn't eat. She cooked for me."

The rise of her brows was undeniable even though you had looked away. 

This was absolutely unreal. How was this conversation even happening? But, nothing about life had had any semblance or normality since meeting Alcina, so why should anything following her coming into your life make any more sense than that? Malka was a witch, sure ok, a Jewish one at that. You'd never heard of such a thing. But sure, why not you guess. And you, you were now apparently a witch or some other gifted magickal creature? WHAT. WAS. HAPPENING.

"I see," Malka pondered, "she is...?"

No. No, don't ask me that. Please do not ask me that. 

You plopped your cup on the cushion next to you and rubbed your face with your hand, baffled beyond words what to say, if you should say it, and why the fuck not to at this point.

"She's a vampire."

You could not believe yourself. You said it. You actually said it. Out loud!

Malka didn't even seem bothered by this, in fact her lack of response made you look at her with a begging for some reaction. She simply pursed her lips and nodded like it was a normal answer.

"Please say something," you broke the overwhelming silence with, "please?"

Her eyes focused back to you and she tilted her head, "you're frightened, aren't you?" she asked in the most genuine manner you'd ever heard.

Again you swallowed, "I'm terrified. I don't know what's happening to me."

"Ehhh, ketzeleh," she cooed, grasping your hand with both of hers, "there is no need to be frightened. I'm here, I see you, you will be alright. You will come into your own in due time, there is no need to fight it or be scared. This is who you are inside."

"I don't know what that means! I don't know what or who I am! I'm just some friggin' orphan who has been lost her whole life - I - I don't know what I'm doing."

Malka placed a comforting palm to your cheek and looked into your eyes, "you listen to ol' Malka; you know who you are. You are you every day. You grow, you learn, and you will make 'you' more 'you' as you live on. What is inside of you well help, as scary as it might be. These changes are part of you, let them guide you, let them teach you, let them mold you and you mold them. I don't know what exactly you are, my ketzeleh, but I know you are special and you cannot fight that. I will be more than happy to be with you every step of the way, though, as your bubbeh, it is my joy and honor."

You hadn't been on the verge of tears yet, but Malka's genuine words made you feel warm and safe. There was no denying something was changing inside of you, you'd felt it since you met Alcina, and maybe it wasn't so bad, even if you were more unsure about everything than you'd ever been before.

As you sat on your couch, staring blankly into the night, you combed through Malka's words from your conversation over and over. Relived the events of this evening; felt it, saw it, breathed it. What a thought to have; you were special, gifted. Whatever that meant.

Your crows had followed you home, keeping eye and watch over you as you walked much slower than normal, and you half thought that perhaps they were a perk of these 'gifts'. They saw you like Malka did. Felt your power like she did. So then, did Alcina feel it also? Was that was had drawn her to you to begin with? Did she know something about you, too, and not mentioned it?

Alcina.

Fuck, you missed her.

You leaned your head back into the couch and closed your eyes, felt the heaviness of the day blanket you and something akin to sleep began to wrap you up.

You saw her then; Alcina, in all her glory and beauty. She was seated at a desk, one side of her raven hair falling around her face, the other tucked behind an ear as she studied something on the dark red wood. A map, it seemed. She was pensive in thought. Her red lips were pursed ever so slightly as she rummaged through another stack of papers by an old, antique rotary phone, and an ash tray with a smoking cigarette. You couldn't help but smile at this vision, real or not. She was so beautiful. The blouse she wore was the creamiest color you'd ever seen, the fold of the collar sharp, the V-cut of the front was held together by buttons of pearl, giving way to just the bare minimum of cleavage and how you wished you run your hands over her shoulders and pry it apart. But then, something caught your eye; she looked tired, worn, stressed even, as she went back and forth between paper and map. Suddenly her eyes snapped up and at you, and you woke with a start.

Groggy was putting it gently. You felt absolutely drained from today. Rising gingerly you made your way to your bed and flopped down onto it, wishing you had your vampire next to you to fall into, curl up in her arms and feel the safety and love you dreadfully desired in this hazy area of wake and sleep.

[zuzzebat12]

Borrower!Angie

|🩵| Angie being a borrower has been in my mind for a while...

SO HERE YOU GO.

|🩵| Angie would most likey be held by Raph the most, especially with him always carrying his siblings around. He'd be picking up his little sister during missions the most. I'd say he'd be the most protective.

|🩵| Angie lives inside the kitchen, she has a little hammock, and because Mikey insisted on helping with her room, she had little decorations like fairy lights, with some tiny plushies (most likey keychains since when Mikey went shopping with Leo, they only could find keychains being small enough for her) so she now has a plushy keychain collection.

|���| (credits to @starsinthenigth

for this idea) Donnie placing Angie inside a little enclosure, possibly a box or container filled with soft things so she can calm down. She does get angry sometimes (especially when she isn't apart of a mission, or when she REALLY wants to hang out with her brothers, but gets told "It's too dangerous" all the time)

|🩵| (credits to @starsinthenigth again) Angie would try to copy/mimic her brothers fighting with smaller objects, It actually got her far, yet she still might need help. Her brothers find it sweet, remembering when they were her age, trying to learn how to fight as well. Though their teens, and still have more to know, they still decide to train her with what they know

|🩵| (i know I haven't been talking much about April, so here ya go)

April would be Angie's babysitter during missions when Angie came. April would just keep her in her hands or on her shoulder. Sometimes when April is fighting, Angie would try to help, which has a 50/50 chance of defeating the bad guy.

|🩵| Angie would ride Mayhem most of the time when she's with April too. She just liked how fluffy he was.

|🩵| Angie has her mystic power as WATER! Her weapon actually is a Bokken, well when she earns her weapon. (Which she does) She learns how to use the sword, and yes, she can control water, while also using it as a weapon, like a whole miniature tsunami. She can form water with her own hands, or even make a small surface under her using water to float in the air.

|🩵| Mikey still makes clothes for Angie, like during that snow day episode where they all wear warm outfits? Mikey just makes a sweater for her, with a scarf, and a jacket.

|🩵| Angie would be on her brothers shoulders most of the time. She's so small.

|🩵| Angie had a little satchel where she can collect stuff from missions. Sometimes Donnie would allow her to take some scraps from his lab so she can make something.

That's some ideas for my Borrower!Angie headcannon, thanks for reading if you did.

(Sorry if this was so long lol)

[kleoyeager78]

10 things I hate about you | 13

Trigger warning: this chapter contains very dark content such as abuse, rape, suicide attempt, drug use/ being addicted to drugs and mentions of being suicidal. None of this is in graphic detail but still I know it can be triggering so read at your own risk!

The week had flown by fairly quickly and it was now Thursday.

It's been stressful in my house ever since I came back from Annie's. My dad yelled at me for not coming home claiming he was worried which couldn't be far from the truth, my step mom had come back from her girls trip with her friends and wouldn't stop bitching at me to do every little thing, Violet had been out with her friends so I had to do all the chores by myself, not like she helped anyways, and Angie still wasn't talking to me and actually seemed to be mad at me.

Over the last couple of days she would send me dirty looks, make messes knowing my step mom would make me clean them and I also heard her talking shit about me on the phone with her friends. I was truly hurt. I tried to talk to her but she would just walk away.

Nevertheless I couldn't just spend all my time worrying about my home life, I had shit to do. I had to take my mom to rehab Friday morning, I had to work with Eren on our project Friday and I also had plans to hang out with Furlan, he texted me about some party he wanted to go to and I said yes. 

I had a lot on my plate so hanging out with Furlan wasn't a bad idea at all.

It was about nine pm and I decided it was time to go to bed so I had energy for tomorrow. I knew I would need it dealing with my mom and Eren.

-

I got up bright and early, got ready then headed to my mom's apartment. My mom and dad lived very close so I decided to walk.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. I hadn't seen my mom in a very long time. The last time I saw her was when I gave her keys to her car back when she got out of rehab the last time. And I literally just handed her keys to her and left without saying anything.

The only reason I'm even doing this is because she told me she wanted to get help again.

I knocked on her door and it took her a while to answer. But when she did she was in nothing but a robe.

"Hi, just give me one second," she said, sending me a big smile and heading back to her room.  

I sat on her couch awkwardly and just waited for her to get done.

She got done and came into the living room. "How do I look?" She asked me.

She was just dressed in plain clothing, no make up on anything, "good considering this is rehab"

"Great, let's go!" She said handing me the car keys.

"Alright" I got up and headed to the door.

"Y/n actually do you have a minute?" My mom stopped me.

"No, I don't" I said in a very uninterested tone.

"Please" she grabbed my arm which i pulled away. "It'll be quick I just need a moment with you"

"Okay." I said giving in.

She went back to sit on the couch and I followed her.

"I uh. I just wanted to say I'm uh-" I could tell she was finding it hard to form a sentence and I really didn't have time for this.

"You're what? Can you get it out already?"

"You're right." She took a breath. "I wanted to say I'm sorry about our last encounter." She got too embarrassed to look at me so her eyes were facing the floor.

"Okay" I said getting off the couch getting ready to just walk away but she grabbed me.

"I mean it, I truly am sorry for the things I said."

"I said okay didn't I? What do you want from me? You want me to say I forgive you? Because I don't."

"No I just-"

"Save it, I don't need your excuses in my life."

"Y/n-"

"Let's just go ma"

My mom just stopped trying and got in the car. There was an awkward silence the whole way there.

"Were here" I said.

My mom unbuckled her seatbelt and I thought she was about to get out of the car but instead she reached over and hugged me.

I was shocked and didn't hug her back but tears began to form in my eyes as I heard her sniffling. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

"M-" my voice cracked. "Mom"

"I'm sorry y/n I really am. I'm sorry for all the nasty things I said to you. I'm sorry that I wasn't much of a good mom and I'm sorry that I'm still not much of a good one"

I didn't know what to say. I was honestly shocked and kinda just frozen in place. My mom didn't let go of me and to be honest I really wanted her to. I just wanted the morning to be over already, I already had a stressful day and I didn't need to add more to it.

I pulled away from her and she noticed I was uncomfortable so she pulled away too.

"Mom I want to accept your apology but you've done nothing to show me you mean them. There's been countless times where you've failed me and I don't understand how you expect me to move past that."

"I have y/n I have shown you I mean them." My mom looked at me with teary eyes and grabbed my hand.

I snatched my hand away, "Really? What have you done to show me?" I was getting angry and you could hear it in my tone.

"I'm getting better for you baby" she said rubbing my thigh which I also had to move away from her.

"Do you know how many times you've said that to me and look where we are?" I said pointing at the rehab building.

"I know but it takes time"

"Oh I know that but I didn't think you needed a whole seventeen years mom"

She put her head down in shame and I just scoffed. It's just like her to play the victim in my life that she and my father destroyed. "So what else have you done to show me you mean your apologies? I really want to know mom, what have you done?"

"Well I left Nick. I kicked him out and cut all contact." She said with a gleam of hope in her eyes that I would give her some type of praise or reward for doing the bare minimum.

But I just laughed. "Oh wow mom you cut off one of my abusers and then left me with the other one for my whole entire life." I had to stop myself from laughing because I was cracking up inside. "You are such a good mom" I said sarcastically, sending her a smile.

She had her head down with a look of shame. I could tell she was extremely hurt but I didn't have it in me to stop. "Say mom what did you do when I told you what dad did to me?"

She sat there looking at me with sad eyes, "I-" I cut her off before she could start.

"No, actually I'll tell you. You hung up the phone and the next day I went to your apartment and it was littered with drugs and you were passed out. And do you know what else is crazy about that? You not only traumatized me for life that day but that was also the day you came back home from rehab." I sighed. "And you don't even have a good reason for doing this. Do you not know how guilty I felt that day? I was waiting in the emergency room crying because I was the reason you were there in the first place." I could feel my eyes getting watery.

"I was nothing but a little girl. I didn't deserve that mom and you know that."

My mom began to break down worse and I started to feel bad. "I'm so sorry y/n I remember that day too and I feel like absolute shit for doing that to you. You deserve so much better than me." She said, At this point she was violently shaking and crying. It looked like she was about to throw up so I didn't say anything else and just let the conversation calm down.

After a few minutes of silence I decided to ask my final question. "Can I ask you something?" I looked over to her and she looked at me with puffy eyes but shook her head letting me know I could. "Why did you do that? Why did you overdose that day I told you about what happened to me?" I said in a calm voice to let her know I was no longer angry, just curious.

"it um-" she coughed a little to clear her throat. "It just reminded me of bad times and I needed something to take my mind off of it" she said staring out of the window not wanting to look me in the eyes.

"What? Mom, were you-" she cut me off.

"Yes," she sighed. "I don't talk about my past much, but when I was young, I lived with my grandmother and grandfather. My mom cheated on her husband and ended up getting pregnant with me. The only way she could save her relationship was to leave me behind with them. And my dad already had another family before I was even born, and he wasn't going to ruin that for me either." Midway through her explanation, she started breaking down. "I'm sorry, it's just that..."

I cut her off because I noticed it was getting hard for her to speak. "It's okay, Mom. You don't have to explain if you're not comfortable."

"No, it's fine. It's just that I haven't thought about it in a while, so it's a bit difficult to speak on." She took a deep breath and then continued speaking. "My grandpa died when I was twelve, and two years after that, my grandma died. My mom finally decided to come and take me in so I could stay with her, her husband, and their two daughters. Both of them were younger than me and basically treated me like their mother because my mom was almost never around." My mom chuckled, looking out of the car window.

"What's so funny?" I asked.

"It's just that after all those years living with my grandparents, I thought I was missing out on having a mother, but in reality, she wasn't even there for the kids she was with," she sighed. "Going back to the story, I ended up having to take care of them because my mom was never around, and their dad was always at work. My mother and her husband were also alcoholics, so when they were home, I would try to keep the kids away from them as much as possible because they would always be drunk."

"During the entire time I stayed there, my mom would physically hurt me. She would throw empty glass bottles at me, plates, and anything else within reach. She would tell me I was the reason she suffered and that she never wanted me. One day, my stepdad walked in on this and rushed to comfort me. It was the first time I felt like I had someone to lean on for support. After that, he started paying more attention to me. He would buy me things, tell me he was there for me if I needed him, and even defend me against my mom. I started to trust him with everything. He was like my best friend in a way."

"But one day, he came home drunk again, and I was yelling at him because he had promised to quit. He smiled and kissed me. I tried to push him away, but it was no use. That day, he made me feel absolutely disgusting. After he was done, he passed out on the couch, and although I didn't want to be near him, I had to zip his pants back up because I didn't want the kids to see anything."

"That night, I told my mom about what had happened, and the only thing that came out of her mouth were insults towards me. She told me I had seduced him and that I had stolen her husband from her. She left for two days, leaving me alone with him. He tried to talk to me like nothing had happened, but I couldn't pretend. I started crying every time. The girls I cared for would come to check on me every day. They would ask if I was alright, but I couldn't tell them anything."

"I remember he came to my room and asked me what he had done wrong, and I finally told him. He said he was sorry and didn't remember, but he'd never do it again. I forgave him, but I wish I hadn't because he lied to me. A week later, he would come home every day and do it again. I forgave him each time because he said he was drunk and didn't remember, or sometimes he would say he thought I was mom, but I knew he was lying because I would hear him arguing with her before he came and did that to me."

"Around that time, I met a guy. I wasn't into him or anything, but he always gave me drugs. He told me they would make me feel better, and they did. So I followed him around like a lost puppy. It got so bad that I couldn't live without them. If I was without them for a second, I felt disgusted with myself, and my thoughts would start going crazy, telling me I deserved everything I went through and didn't deserve to live."

"I was seventeen when I decided I couldn't do it anymore. I tried to end it all, but I wasn't successful. My neighbor ended up coming to check on me because I wasn't answering anyone's phone calls. He found me unresponsive and called for help," she sighed. "Now do you understand why I hung up the phone, y/n? I'm not good at comforting people because I've never had comfort. Even when I lived with my grandparents there was no comfort, only work. The only comfort I've ever had in my life was drugs so that day you told me what happened to you I turned to them. I'm sorry but I'm afraid I'm no better than the mom I had myself" she looked at me and frowned. "I'm not a good mother y/n and I'll never be able to do anything good for you. Even if I try to get help I'll fail every time. The only reason I come to this place is to stop me from killing myself. The only advice I can give you is to never be like me in life y/n, anything is better than me." With that she reached in the back, grabbed her bag and was about to leave but I locked the doors.

I reached over and gave her the biggest hug. I felt like utter shit for the things I said to her. She might not have been the best mom, and her actions most definitely can't be excused, but no one deserves what she went through, not even her.

"I'm so sorry, Mom," I cried. "I'm so sorry."

"Please don't be. This has nothing to do with you and also doesn't excuse how horrible of a mom I am to you," she hugged me back with one hand and took the other and played in my hair. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you too, Mom."

We stayed like that for a few minutes, crying in each other's arms until my mom let me know she had to go, and I had to let go. We said our goodbyes, and she got out of the car.

Instead of pulling off right away, though, I decided to put my head down and think. I thought about what my mom said.

"Never be like me in life, Y/N," her voice repeated in my head. I sighed, lifting my head up and putting the car in reverse.

"Oh, Mom, I already am."

A/n ~ sorry for not updating. I've been so busy and testing is coming up so I don't have a lot of time on my hand but still I love y'all and will try to update more | Also, I finished this chapter a few days ago but I'm just now releasing it sorry but HAPPY BIRTHDAY CONNIE SPRINGER!!!

[whump-me]

Whumptober Day 7: Radio Silence

This is a standalone story in my original Mind Games universe, a modern-day sci-fi/fantasy thriller setting about ordinary humans with superhuman abilities and the people who want to use or destroy them. Full description in my Whumptober masterpost, which is linked in my pinned post.

This story contains: twins, lab whump, emotional whump, brain damage

Words: 2700

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Angie woke screaming in a dirty motel room. She couldn’t remember what state she had crossed into before she saw the neon sign that promised a place to pass out. She couldn’t remember if she’d eaten dinner yesterday—or breakfast, for that matter. But the dream that had woken her was clearer than memory, clearer than the peeling wallpaper of the room. She had dreamed of being strapped to a chair, in a room with white walls and white lights, surrounded by men in white lab coats. One had been shaving her head. The other had been readying his scalpel.

It hadn’t been a dream. It had been Isabel.

I’m coming, she thought along the connection with her twin. I’m on my way.

Isabel couldn’t form words through her panic. But a wave of relief washed through the connection at the sound of Angie’s mental voice. Isabel still believed in her. Isabel was counting on her.

Which meant Angie had to get a move on.

It was a good thing she hadn’t changed out of her clothes the night before. That meant a few minutes she didn’t have to spend on getting dressed. She visited the grimy motel bathroom for a quick piss, and gave her teeth a halfhearted scrub with her finger. As she hoisted her backpack over her shoulders, she lit up a cigarette. It was a no-smoking room—said so right on the door—but she was never coming back here anyway.

The nicotine was the only thing she knew of that could dim the connection a little. Aside from a strong drink, and she wasn’t about to get behind the wheel drunk. She took a long drag, and the panic eased, just a little. The white room in her inner vision turned dim and blurry.

Shutting her twin out when Isabel needed her the most. Some twin she was. But she couldn’t keep her head on straight with Isabel’s panic swimming around in her bloodstream. Her own was hard enough to manage.

She tossed her backpack in the passenger seat and peeled out of the parking lot.

She paid no attention to the road signs. She did what she had done since she had started this road trip from hell five days ago: she followed the inner compass that told her which direction to go to find Isabel. The two of them had always been able to do that, just like they could pass words and images silently between them no matter how much physical distance lay between them. Came with the territory when you were a twin and both of you were telepaths.

She tossed the spent cigarette out the window. The tug in her gut led her south. She swerved onto the highway at the last moment.

As she merged, a crawling sensation on her scalp made her bring up a hand absentmindedly to scratch. But it wasn’t her scalp that was the problem. In her inner vision, one of the men was drawing with a marker on the back of her—of Isabel’s—head, like he was marking where to cut.

She hit the gas.

A minivan in front of her was crawling along at the speed limit. She leaned on her horn. The minivan didn’t speed up.

A bite of pain, like an insect sting just above the back of her neck. She brought up her hand on instinct to swat it. A fresh wave of panic—not her own—flooded her.

Not an insect bite. The bite of a scalpel.

Hang in there, she thought as hard as she could. I’m coming. I’m close—I can feel it. A couple hours at most.

She lit another cigarette.

The nicotine couldn’t kick in fast enough. The pain spread. It bit deeper. They were cutting her apart, they were cutting Isabel apart…

She swerved around the minivan, drawing a chorus of honks from the cars around her.

She could make it in time. She could make it. She was so close.

It wasn’t by chance that she and Isabel were what they were. That they were twins; that they were telepaths. They hadn’t known the truth until a woman in a dark suit came knocking one evening, while Isabel was filling out college applications and Angie was getting ready to sneak out with some boy whose name she couldn’t remember anymore. It was lucky they had both been home, or their lives might have gone very differently from that point on.

They both knew why the woman was there the second she rang the doorbell. Can’t hide anything from a telepath. She was there to take her experiments back. Identical twins dosed with experimental drugs in utero, then allowed to develop naturally out of the lab—which implied others who had grown up in a lab somewhere.

The woman and the people she worked for—the Psi Enhancement Research Initiative, the woman’s thoughts supplied—had lied to the twins’ parents about who they were and what they were doing. They had said they were trialing an experimental IVF procedure. They hadn’t said they would be keeping tabs on the twins’ medical and educational records, and sending observers to watch them in secret—something the twins also hadn’t known until that moment.

And they hadn’t said they would be coming back for the twins once their experiment was ready for its next phase.

They hadn’t needed to say a word to each other. They had raced downstairs to warn their parents, because they had both heard in the woman’s thoughts that she wasn’t there to ask permission. But they weren’t fast enough to save their parents.

They were only fast enough to save themselves.

They had been on their own since then. It had been Angie who had gotten them both out the bedroom window—she was no stranger to sneaking out, after all. And Angie had gotten them both fake IDs, another thing she knew too much about. But Isabel had led her across the country, even though she didn’t know where to go any more than Angie did. Isabel had gotten a job to take care of them both, and hadn’t said a word about the scholarships she would never get a chance at now. Isabel had made sure they both ate healthy, and had tossed out Angie’s beer and cigarettes whenever she tried to sneak them into the apartment.

It took PERI two years to track them down. Angie still didn’t know how they had done it. They took Isabel while she was out working like a responsible adult. They could easily have gotten Angie at the same time, while she was sleeping late, clutching her empty contraband beer bottle from last night to her chest like it was a teddy bear. But they had waited too long. Isabel’s inner scream had woken her. She watched the whole thing happen while coming awake, like it was a bad dream.

Isabel’s fear and pain had bought Angie enough time to run.

In the five days since, Angie had experienced all of it alongside Isabel. They had wanted to test her abilities. She hadn’t wanted to cooperate. It had taken them the better part of a day to convince her. Angie could still feel the burn of the electric shocks in her bones.

Then the days of testing—gauging her range, her ability to project her own thoughts, her skill at picking up visual images and abstract concepts from another person’s mind as well as words. The test hadn’t been so bad. While they were testing her, Angie could concentrate well enough to drive without a cigarette.

Unlike when they started asking her how to find Angie.

Apparently they’d gone back for her. They hadn’t even been worried when they hadn’t found her at the apartment. They had trusted their ability to track her down. Until they came up empty.

It seemed like they hadn’t considered the possibility that Angie might be hurtling straight toward them.

Isabel knew, of course. She could have told them. She didn’t. No matter what they did to her—and they had done a lot. There were times Angie had pulled over to look down at herself, certain she was bleeding from Isabel’s wounds.

Angie had thought that was the worst it could get.

But now their testing was done, and they were cutting into Isabel’s brain.

A wave of sick nausea came through the connection. It wasn’t pain. But it was worse than pain, somehow. A bone-deep sensation of wrongness. Even through the nicotine, it was strong enough to make Angie clap a hand over her mouth, afraid she would vomit all over the car.

I’m on my way, she promised Isabel. Not because Isabel didn’t already know, but because she didn’t know what else to say. She couldn’t say It’s okay when it wasn’t. She had never been much of a liar.

Angie… Isabel’s inner voice was a weak thread of a whisper. The rest of her sister’s message came through as a mumble. Angie couldn’t make out the words, or even the meaning behind them.

Angie stepped on the gas again. She honked at the eighteen-wheeler in front of her.

Angie… don’t…

Angie sped around the truck. The driver honked at her, long and low.

As she was sliding back into her own lane, her vision went black. Only for a second, but when it came back, the car was skidding sideways across the road, and people were madly swerving around her, honking their horns, gesturing angrily.

She swerved and slid into the nearest empty lane, barely paying attention to the road. Isabel!

Another wave of swimming nausea made her vision blur and her stomach lurch. Angie… don’t come after me. It’s too late. Turn around. Don’t let them do this to you too.

Like hell, Angie thought at her as fiercely as she could, and pushed the gas pedal to the floor.

Then something in Angie’s brain went dark. Like an arm going numb; like a foot being sliced from her body. That was the only way she knew how to think of it. The nausea was gone, and the wrongness, and the crawly feeling on her scalp. Even the panic.

Just… gone.

The sense of Isabel, which she had never been without since before the day they were born… gone.

But the inner compass was still there. That had to mean something, right? Isabel couldn’t be completely gone, as long as Angie could still sense her presence.

Unless it was just some kind of residual trace, like a trail of smoke in the air. Did it feel different? Fainter?

Angie wouldn’t analyze it. She couldn’t afford to go there.

The inner compass gave a lurch, tugging her to the right. She swerved onto the exit ramp, drawing another chorus of honks.

A small, shabby downtown greeted her. None of the roads went the right way. She took a right turn, a left turn, another right, while her inner compass tugged insistently straight ahead.

Was the tug weaker? It was, wasn’t it? It felt loose, like a rubber band suddenly gone slack.

Nope. Angie wouldn’t go there. She couldn’t. Not yet. She could think about that after she found Isabel. Alive.

At last, she found a road that took her in the same direction that her sense of Isabel was tugging her. The tug was fainter now, too much so to ignore. A thin and breakable thread where a thick braid of rope used to be.

The thread snapped just as she pulled into the parking lot of a bland, anonymous business complex.

The sign outside promised a dentist’s office, a therapist, and something called Scientific Industries, Inc. She made an educated guess. She shoved her way inside and barged through the inner door that said Scientific Industries, Inc. on an anonymous metal plaque.

The lobby was small and discreet—two chairs and a gray-haired woman behind the desk. The receptionist motioned her toward one of the chairs, no doubt assuming she was supposed to be there.

She didn’t sit. She pulled out the gun Isabel had come home with the day they’d signed their fake names to the lease on their new apartment. Isabel hadn’t said where she had gotten it. Angie hadn’t asked.

She aimed the gun at the wide-eyed receptionist’s chest and ordered, “Take me to the lab.”

The receptionist didn’t bother with denials. She led Angie down a narrow hallway covered in thin, ugly carpet, like every doctor’s office Angie had ever been in. A white-coated man turned a corner toward them. At the sight of the gun, his eyes went as wide as the receptionist’s.

Angie recognized his face. She had seen it in her dreams that hadn’t been dreams.

With the hand holding the gun, she motioned him toward the receptionist. He fell into line.

He kept sneaking glances at her. He recognized her, too. Of course he did—she and Isabel were identical.

But he didn’t say a word. Smart of him. If he had, Angie might have shot him right then and there.

The trembling receptionist. opened the door at the end of the hall. There it was—the white room with its bright white light. And there she was. Isabel. The chair was like a dentist’s chair, and Isabel lay limp, her head slumped to one side.

The back of her head was covered in white gauze. Her face was pale, bloodless. Her eyes were closed.

Angie couldn’t sense her. She was right here, and Angie couldn’t sense her.

Isabel, she shouted. Isabel, I’m here.

Nothing.

It took her a few seconds to notice the other white-coated man in the room. He was using a stylus to scribble notes on a tablet. When he saw her little parade, he raised his hands. The tablet fell to the floor and shattered.

He looked from her to Isabel, and must have known who she was, because he didn’t bother asking who she was or why she was here. He babbled something. Something like, Don’t shoot. Something like, I’m sorry. Something like, I don’t know what went wrong.

He had blood smeared down the front of his white coat.

Angie shot him.

She shot the other white-coated man before he could run. She leveled the gun at the trembling receptionist. “Get out of here,” she ordered. “Before I decide you’re responsible for this too.”

The receptionist ran.

There would be more people coming, drawn by the sound of the gunshots. They would probably have guns of their own. Angie wasn’t sure she cared.

I’m sorry, she whispered to the dead space what Isabel had been. She lifted the limp body of her sister into her arms. I’m sorry they took you and not me. You could have gotten there in time. I’ve always been the fuckup.

Isabel’s eyes fluttered open.

“Angie?” she whispered.

Isabel, Angie whispered, in wonder and in joy. But the space that had always been Isabel was still empty.

“Isabel?” Her voice was hesitant. She couldn’t remember the last time she had used her voice to speak to her sister. Not since their parents were alive, and they’d had to do it purely for show.

Isabel’s face crumpled. “I can’t… in my head. I can’t feel you.”

There would be time later, Angie knew, to grieve what they had lost. But not yet. Because Isabel was alive. Angie had gotten there in time after all.

For once, she hadn’t fucked it up.

It’s okay, she said, and then stopped herself. “It’s okay,” she said, starting towards the door with her sister in her arms. “I’m going to get you out of here. And then I’m going to take care of you.”

Whatever it took.

Even if it meant she had to learn to be the responsible one.

“Told you… not to come,” Isabel mumbled, her eyes already fluttering shut again.

“Yeah, well,” said Angie, shifting Isabel’s weight against her chest, “I’ve never been good at doing what I’m supposed to do.”

She didn’t sense Isabel’s emotion like she was used to. But she felt Isabel’s mouth curve into a smile as Isabel let her head rest against Angie’s chest. Like Angie was a solid place for her to rest.

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Tagged: @cakeinthevoid @gala1981

Ask to be added or removed from my Whumptober 2023 taglist.

[the-broken-truth]

I know you did this so very long ago but would you consider a pt3 for you Resident Evil Village Knight!Reader fics.

Alcina and Donna don’t give up but leave her alone for a while. Donna gets the broken helmet from Mother Miranda and repairs it maybe with the parts that were too broken she adds something to it, to make sure it’s whole like it used to be (like a different colour metal) and maybe makes a stuffed animal of a wolf dressed as a knight (so mf cute and fluffy) and fresh apples for R’a horse and she delivers it to R as an apology along with some cookies or something.

Alcina on the other hand sees R out when she joins her daughters on a hunt, She sees R (Maybe in a wolf form?!-but she can tell it’s R bc of her smell or something-) eating a deer so violently and when she’s done she eats another and mumbled something to herself under her breath about it being her favourite. So Alcina does what a normal tall big booby vamp lady would do and makes a wine for R infused with deer blood and names it something related to wolves or knights or something, she also gets a saddle made out of the finest leather or maybe a new sword for R. once again as an apology.

They both hope that the R will enjoy them and maybe reach out to accept the apology face to face?

R is confused but enjoys both gifts maybe one more than the other? Maybe she decided to give one of them a chance.

You don’t have to this was just an idea I had after stumbling upon your Knight!Reader story I enjoyed very much🫶🏽🫶🏽

[If [Reader] Gives Donna A Chance]

[Mother Miranda's Chapel - Underground Lab]

"Come again, Child. What did you just ask me for?" The winged woman asked as she turned to face the veiled woman behind her who stood there with the living doll on her shoulder and her hands folded in front of her - her hands being the only part of her body that remained bare. The Mother of the Four Lords had been working on some alterations with the Cadou Parasite when her door opened and the Second Lord - Donna Beneviento - walked in with her living companion - Angie The Doll - and asked her for a rather unusual request.

"Mother, I would like the Knight's Helmet Fragments. I know that you collected them on the day she crashed into the chapel to defeat one of Karl's Creations and I would like to request that you give me the fragments." Donna said in her rather quiet voice - she wanted to be the one to make this request, that's why Angie sat quietly on her porch on Donna's Shoulder. Miranda's blue eyes looked at Donna for a while before turning back to the bubbling flasks on her lab table and picked up a corked test tube but opened her mouth to speak to Donna.

"That Knight is rather interesting if I do say so, My Daughter; I know that you and your sister have an interest in her. Why is it that you seek the Helmet Fragments? Do you wish to repair them and return the helmet to the knight? Do you really think that would give access to her good graces, Daughter? Is that your plan?" Mother Miranda asked as she slowly opened the cork from the test tube and slowly poured the liquid into the large container holding the Cadou Parasite Larva, it pulsed and twitched around as the clear liquid came in contact with its' 'flesh'.

"We wronged the Knight, Mother when you sent the Lycans after her. She felt as if we were trying to harm her and I don't want to be on bad terms with her, Mother. If I repair her helmet and return it to her, maybe she will know that we have no ill will towards her as a resident in our village." Donna explained but Miranda just smirked and chuckled at Donna's explanation as she placed the empty test tube back on the rack before she walked over to another desk - where a small wooden chest lay dormant - Miranda looked at the chest and picked it up before walking over to Donna with it and held the chest out.

"You may think that My Child, but I know in your heart that you desire the knight to be yours and yours alone. Should you manage this task, I shall make the Knight a Lord, without the Cadou of course. I don't want to mess up anything in my latest child's DNA." Miranda smirked as Donna took the box and turned on her heel to walk away, through the doors, up the stairs, and out of the Chapel with the wooden box in her hands.

[About A Week Later - Beneviento Manor]

Donna's delicate hands reached for another piece of the cold black metal - the zig-zag edges felt like locked teeth. Donna looked at the construction before her and placed the piece in the proper place before she looked at what she had - the Knight's Helmet was now before her but it wasn't as perfect as it once was. Due to the fact that some of the pieces were missing - lost in Mother Miranda's Chapel - Donna had to replace the missing pieces with another black metal after shaping it to fit the helmet from memory.

"Hey, Donna!" Angie's voice made Donna jump and clench the helmet close to her chest before she turned to face the little doll that stood beside her chair.

"Yes, Angie? Is there something I can help you with?" Donna asked her companion.

"What are you doing? Isn't that the Knight's Helmet? The one that broke in Mother Miranda's Chapel?" Angie asked as Donna placed the helmet back on the table.

"Yes, it is. I asked Mother for the pieces so that I could repair them and return them to the knight." Donna looked at the helmet, placing her hand on it between the ears, her mind thinking about the knight and the way she saved her from falling into the gorge. Donna's heart picked up in pace when she stood up and walked into the kitchen with a smile on her face and a blush creeping along the bridge of her nose. "I think I shall make the Knight some cookies and pick up some apples from the market."

"Why Cookies and Apples?" Angie asked as she followed Donna into the kitchen as well as a few dolls.

"I remember seeing a basket of green apples at the Knight's Cabin, she must like them and everyone likes cookies; I'm certain she will like them as well." Donna said as she took off her veil and put on her apron. It was time to get baking.

[About 3 Hours Later]

The Head of House Beneviento stood on the edge of the forest with a nervous look on her face before she walked into the forest down the path with the basket in her hands and Angie on her shoulder. The two of them walked the area around them until they reached the clearing and the cabin in the woods. The Knight was standing outside with her armor on and without her helmet. Donna opened her mouth to speak but the sight of the knight made her throat get dry - the knight was gorgeous with her long silky hair and her muscular build - Donna didn't know what to do.

"Lady Beneviento?" She heard her name called at the knight walked over to her with a raised eyebrow, "What are you doing here?"

"I...Um...Well..." Donna stuttered but Angie decided to make herself known.

"Hey, Tall One." Angie greeted, causing the Knight to look in her direction with a smile.

"Hello, Small One. What are you guys doing here?" The Knight asked.

"Donna fixed your helmet and brought you a basket of cookies and apples." Angie explained causing Donn's face to get brighter and brighter with each word her companion said. Donna reached into the basket and pulled out the repaired helmet and handed it to the open hands of the knight, who smiled at Donna and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Thank you, Lady Beneviento." The Knight thanked her before offering a hand, "Come with me, we have some tea and cookies while we talk."

[kangaracha]

hey do that tag game and tag zom mom

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ♥️

sent: december 16th 2022. once again, i am the queen of finding old posts. and you all said i should tag things so i can find them later, ha.

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'NEVERMORE' we all knew would come out on top. this is THE brainworm. the piece de resistance. the swansong except i'm not quitting or dying when it's done. hopefully. i haven't told anyone but i'm very aware this could blow out to 200 or 300k if i finish it, and it's. i just love it. unfettered creativity etc. Nevermore is based on the stray kids cinematic universe, the music videos and performances that all connect to tell a story, but even if you don't know stray kids, i think you can read it - it's about a group of boys (a band? a group of musicians?) stumbling into another world that is made of music and controlled by a strict government, and their journey back home to their own time and place, and the things that are left in their wake. it's huge and it's long and it's the first time i've reached 70k and still felt like i have a hand on all the plot lines without leaving plot holes in my wake.

'The Gone And The Gathered' is a zombies fic set in an au where zombietown is treated as an internment camp by Seabrook, also based on ghettos/concentration camps from WW2. Zombies are used to run the power plant and supply electricity and water to Seabrook and have never left the town; werewolves are known wild entities, and some have been captured as they are Useful in maintenance in the power plant. The story follows teenaged Wanda and Zoey through a series of discoveries about their world and the ripple effect this has on Zombietown and the world beyond the walls that they have never seen - and it's about staying quiet and accepting your lot in life, or daring to strike out and create a better future for yourself and your people, even if it might mean sacrificing yourself.

'Turn Your Back On Mother Nature' is a MCU Eternals fic, focused on Druig and Makkari. It contains five canon compliant scenes that, given my own director's cut, I would have added to the movie - not meant to change anything, but just meant to complement the plot and the character's own individual storylines and give more depth and meaning. I feel like I really excel at working within the boundaries given by a certain media and it's one of the main things that keeps me coming back to the challenge of writing fanfiction, and I'm so proud of the job that I did on this - it's well written, my character work really stands out, and I thought the scenes really worked to capture each idea I was trying to express. mwah good job roo.

'To Go Beyond Your Borders' is my pokemon comfort fic. It follows Angie, the champion of Sinnoh but also a disgraced public figure, and a journey of self-discovery as she runs away to Galar to compete in the Gym Challenge there. I started writing this in my depression/anxiety era, and in a lot of roundabout ways a lot of the themes/Angie's struggles are based on challenges I've faced in the last few years, so this fic is. Really cool, and something I keep coming back to as I really like the story I built for it. If more mature pokemon journeys is something you're interested in, this is the fic for you - and the composition of it, with social media interlaced with traditional storytelling, is so fun, I love doing it and coming up with the different bits and where they'll make the most impact. This is just so fun to work on and more people should read it so I make it more of a priority cause seeing this finished one day is going to make me so happy.

'if only we knew (the things we know)' and it's sequel, 'and the chasm grows', two of my long zombies stand-alones, are the fics i always think of first when asked what writing I'm most proud of. The themes are big - death, and knowing that you're going to die soon (cancer related themes, though this isn't about cancer), and facing down the idea of genocide of your entire race. They're very dark, as they have to be, and they're very hopeless, and whenever the odd reader comes along they tell me that they cried, and yet I think I managed to find a little bit of warmth in each, the strings of community and family and comfort that hold on until the very end. I specifically recommend the final scene of chasms, which i wrote in a blinding flash of inspiration and will never be able to recreate - it sticks with me even now, and while I can't remember certain other scenes from these fics, I will never forget that ending, and the way it made me as the writer feel when i finished and looked back on it.

[shogvnate]

DOLCEZZA, donna beneviento x f! reader.

donna beneviento (& angie) comforting you, oneshot.

contains; donna beneviento

warnings; comfort, fluff, implied abandonment issues but why she's comforting you in the first place can be read as vague.

━━ 🪡 ´ˎ˗

"dolcezza? my love, what's wrong?" donna frantically reached out for your hand, she held it carefully, rubbing circles on the back of it like a prized pottery.

she rose up so that the two of you were now face to face, placing her thumb underneath your eye to wipe your tear stains. "have you been crying while i was gone? dolcezza, can you tell me what's wrong?"

"donna, i—"

you let out a choked sob, tightening your grip on her cold hand. that was something unique about her, how her hands were always so cold and yet they never failed to give you comfort anytime and anywhere. you always told her the two of you were a match made in heaven, because you always offer your hand warming services to her (for free!) and she doesn't ever complain about it, in fact, she loves all your silly little ideas.

you entwined your fingers with her long ones, breathing in and out softly as you tried to steady your nerves.

"slowly dolcezza, breathe slowly," she encouraged, looking at you as if asking for silent permission and only hugging you when you gave her an approving nod.

you took a few deep breaths, clinging onto her like tomorrow is the apocalypse. at last you can feel a surge of tranquility kickstarting in your gut, no doubt being influenced by donna's own cadou, but you didn't mind. you needed that extra help.

"sì, just like that, breathe slowly. everything will be alright. if it's not, then i'll help you make it alright."

"donna…"

"that's it… you did absolutely amazing, dolcezza," she cooed softly, her husky voice scratching your ears like a recording of your favorite song. "i'm so… so proud of you, mia dolce ragazza. you're so brave, the bravest girl i know."

"thank you, donna," you murmured, your chest heaving much more slowly as you buried yourself onto the crook of her shoulder. she smelt floral, a mix of jasmine and petrichor. the smell of home.

she let you, placing her hand on the back of your neck, "anything for you, dolcezza."

as you drifted into a dreamless sleep, donna raised her head at the sound of the front door being pushed open, revealing a jolly angie who carried a bouquet of wildflowers. she had sent angie to fetch some for you but completely forgot about it when she saw you curled on the floor next to the staircase.

if only angie could roll her eyes, because she one hundred percent would. donna noticed that and slumped slightly, fully aware of what she'll say next.

"get a room you lovebirds!" she huffed, shoving the bouquet to donna's unsuspecting free hand and crossing her tiny wooden arms while tapping her feet.

"i got those flowers for free! you don't even pay me, dons, and what do i get in return? a free coupon for being the third wheeler?"

"angie…" donna warned, shaking her head vehemently. "... keep quiet."

"oh!" she gasped, mockingly placing her hand on top of her wooden chest. "i'm hurt. you've hurt me, dons. you did. this is why i prefer her more than you."

donna stared at her, sitting so still in place that an ant's movement would be more noticeable than the slight up and down on her chest. she relented in the end, letting out a heavy sigh.

"the two of you can play later, angie. but she needs her rest," donna explained, glancing at you as her gaze softened. "she needs it more than anything right now."

"fiiinnnneeeee…" angie groaned.

"and thank you for bringing me the flowers," donna smiled. "she'll appreciate it when she wakes up."

"aww shucks," angie giggled, leaning slightly to whisper despite no one else being around. "please tell her that it's mostly from me."

she mustered out a light chuckle of her own, giving her a nod. angie let out a cheer before bouncing up and out of the room, leaving only her and you behind. she gazed upon the assortment of monochromatic flowers fondly before leaving it on top of the table. she'll just place it in a vase later.

"hear that, dolcezza? with angie and me, you'll never feel alone again," she placed a hand on your cheek as she laid you down on the couch,

"we'll always be here for you."

‎

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi! I love your stories. I was wondering if you could write something where reader tries to secretly learn Italian, with Angie’s reluctant help, so that reader could propose to Donna in the language.

Yess!!! Thank you for your words, and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the delay, and the language mistakes!!! :)))))

Words of love

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: fluff, Donna being Donna

Word count: 5,712

Summary: You have something important to ask her, but you can't find the right words...

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

The sound of cutlery turned a normal breakfast into a tense one, silent as always, but uncomfortable as ever.

It had not been difficult for you to get used to your new life, a life with one of the village Lords, with Donna Beneviento.

They always told you that love could come in the most unexpected ways and for once, they weren't wrong at all. Donna could be many things, but, above all, she was a beautiful, kind, strange but addictive woman.

The months passed and your opinion didn't change at all, it would never change. Silence stopped being something uncomfortable for you. It became your security, your safety. Everything you thought it meant to love a person had been transformed into a harmonious routine with the lady in black. Reluctant to express herself, dark, cold, but wanting to love and feel loved; yes, that might be a good description for her.

As if the passage of time made your feelings stir restlessly in your gut, a desire, one much deeper than love and less superficial than intimacy, began to pass through your head. Donna would never lose you, she wouldn't allow it. She would never leave you, you couldn't stand it.

And with time against you, you decided to be the one to take that step, one that Donna was not contemplating, one that she had never talked about. You couldn't blame her for that, as life in the village was anything but normal and ordinary.

“Your silence is worrying me, (Y/N),” Donna murmured, with that soft, hoarse voice, that being one of the few occasions in which the silence disappeared with that melody coming from her lips.

You looked up, playing with a small box in your pocket, with that small box you bought from the Duke, and contained all your worries, all the bad thoughts, the anxieties of your mind for two almost agonizing weeks.

With a fake smile, you shook your head, taking a small sip from your steaming cup of coffee.

“I was just thinking,” you answered in a whisper, looking more like the lady in black than she did herself, something that, of course, didn’t serve to calm her down, quite the opposite. The woman in black looked at you intensely, expressionlessly.

It was funny how without even looking at you, she was able to express so many things.

“Can you tell me what you were thinking?” She asked, obviously, bringing to light her eternal worries, ones that never faded, no matter how much time passed, the irrational fear of you abandoning her was always present.

“Oh, well, nothing important,” you said, making a gesture with your hand to divert attention. Her expression hardened, not satisfied with your response.

“It seemed like it,” Donna whispered, leaving her cup on the table, as her hands began to shake involuntarily. You huffed, shaking your head and trying to maintain that fake smile.

“Okay, you got me,” you said amused, making that expression soften, but not enough. “I was wondering if…”

All of Lady Beneviento's attention was on you. Well, actually it was what you wanted, what you needed, but, as always, for a long time, the only thing you could do was to press that little box tightly inside your pocket. Sighing subtly, you looked around for something to completely skip the actual question you wanted to ask.

“If you could teach me how to operate that thing,” you said in a more informal tone, pointing to the coffee pot that rested on the table. Donna shifted her eyes to the same spot and then back to you, with a strange grimace.

“The coffee maker,” she whispered, frowning.

Your smile was much more convincing, nodding comically and shrugging.

“Yes, well, the coffee you make is delicious and I would like to surprise you by preparing it myself one day,” you explained, stirring the liquid in the cup, making a sweet smile appear on her face. Okay, that was the sign that indicated she stopped thinking your mind was traveling to horrible places.

“Now that you've told me, it's no longer a surprise, tesoro,” she commented, amused, with a shy smile and blushing cheeks. You agreed with her with a nod of your head.

“At least it's a better surprise than burning the kitchen, right?” You joked, laughing alongside her, having dissipated the absurd tension your cowardice had caused. Donna nodded, gesturing for you to stand up.

“It's not complicated, (Y/N). Look, you just have to fill the bottom part with water and…” The doll maker explained.

Your gaze was fixed on the old coffee maker, but your thoughts were very far from there, you didn't even hear that explanation. If it wasn't for your sense of humor, your outgoing nature, you were convinced that you would never have managed to earn her love and you would never have been able to meet the wonderful woman you had at your side.

But, despite having taken all possible steps, having kissed her, having shared romantic nights in the bedroom (and elsewhere), you were unable to ask that question, the question that accompanied your expensive acquisition from the Duke.

You didn't even know if Donna considered a step like that important, if she understood what it meant for you, or for herself. You didn't care. All possible scenarios were played out in your mind, even the most painful rejection.

You didn't really think that could happen, but you would definitely never know if you didn't try, the world was for the brave ones, your parents said. It was a shame that Mother Miranda's blessed glory turned them into food for the Lycans.

You were never superficial, and death and darkness were always part of your life. But Donna... Yes, Donna, who was supposed to represent everything you should fear, illuminated your path like fireflies on a summer night. You wanted to demonstrate everything with a simple gift, with a proposal of eternal love, of commitment.

But as if it were a cruel irony, you, (Y/N), the villager who conquered Lady Beneviento thanks to her charisma, was left without it abruptly, at the most necessary moment.

“You've understood?” Donna asked, breaking you out of your ramblings and lamentations. You shook your head involuntarily, as if waking up from a dream, or rather, a nightmare.

“I think so,” you said, not very convinced. She nodded, taking your hand and kissing the back of it, with the same tender smile that said she didn't suspect anything, or that she was pretending much better than you thought.

“I hope you give me that surprise soon,” she whispered very close to you, gently playing with your hand, getting close to your ear and planting a chaste and wet kiss on your cheek. You jumped in place, not understanding what she meant, turning away abruptly.

“Sur, surprise? I don't know what you're talking about,” you said shakily, her expression changing to a confused and suspicious one again.

“The coffee, tesoro...” She said, with a nervous whisper, with her eye wide open at your sudden reaction.

You closed your eyes, sighing and running a hand over your forehead. The situation was going to finish you off definitively.

“Oh, sure, sure, sorry, I'm a bit...” You said apologetically, earning another suspicious look from the brunette, who caressed your cheek with her trembling hand.

“You're not fine, are you?” Donna asked in a soft tone, worried about not knowing how to help you if you had a problem. You were always the one who helped her with her illness, surely that whole situation was overcoming her and of course, you couldn't blame her.

“Yes, yes, I'm fine just... I haven't slept very well tonight,” you lied again taking her hands and caressing them to relax the breathing that threatened to get even more agitated. Donna nodded, still suspicious.

“Shall I prepare a relaxing infusion for you?” She asked, resting her hands on your waist, meticulously studying every one of your gestures. You shook your head, brandishing that fake smile again.

“No... I think, I think a kiss from you will be enough,” you whispered romantically, making shyness appear on her face as she slowly leaned down to fulfill your wish, placing her lips on yours in a slow way, which, indeed, relaxed you.

“Better?” She asked, playing with your hands, with that tender look that drove you crazy, which made your hand separate from hers and go straight to your pocket, beginning to bend your knee.

As always, the last second you had to react made you regret it, clearing your throat and giving Donna another soft kiss to pretend that you weren't going to do something crazy, that crazy thing.

“Much better,” you said, playing with her black hair and slowly separating yourself, clenching your fist tightly in your pocket. Donna nodded, enjoying your caresses, your completely loving look.

“I'm going to pick this up, okay? I have to work on my doll. You should get the rest you need, tesoro,” the lady in black murmured. You nodded at first, but then you grabbed her wrist abruptly, in another attempt to declare yourself, another failure.

“No, Well... I'll pick it up, don't worry. You always prepare breakfast, lunch, dinner and, well, everything,” you said nervously, placing the plates in a pile, preventing the Lord from getting close to them. Donna laughed amused, shaking her head.

“I love making things for you,” she said with a low voice, but proud at the same time.

“I know, that's why... Let me pick it up, okay?” You said, emphasizing your wish with your look, one that apparently was enough for Donna to kiss you quickly and walk towards the elevator.

“As you wish, (Y/N), I'll be downstairs,” she whispered, giving you one last look that made you sigh involuntarily.

When the sound of the old mechanism told you that the way was clear, you jumped comically and furiously on the wood, pressing your lips tightly together.

“Shit, shit, shit, idiot... Idiot...” You lamented, hitting a nearby chair, making it a victim of your helplessness. “This way I will never be able to…”

“Be able to what, stupid?” A shrill voice reached your ears, piercing them like a hammer.

Oh, of course, Donna wasn't the only inhabitant of the old estate. Everything that happened was carefully supervised by the Angie doll, one you didn't particularly like.

You growled unpleasantly, seeing how that combination of wood and porcelain walked towards you with a determined step, determined to annoy you, as always.

“I wasn't talking to you,” you said as you cleared the table, ignoring her unwanted presence.

Angie climbed up the furniture, putting her hands on her hips, as if she were going to question you, something that wasn't unusual either.

“Were you talking to yourself? You’re such a nutcase,” she snapped at you, making you crumple one of the napkins, imagining it was that stupid porcelain throat.

“Oh, you say it, precisely you,” you mocked, ready to have another ridiculous dialectical battle with the puppet.

“Are you insulting my Donna?” Angie asked proudly. You narrowed your eyes and shook your head.

“No, I'm insulting you,” you hissed threateningly. “Sometimes I imagine how well you would burn in the fireplace,” you continued, making the puppet step back.

“I'm going to tell Donna,” she said, pretending that this threat had no effect. You knew it wouldn’t have.

“Yes, yes, run, go tell Donna that you called me stupid again, I'm sure she'll be very happy,” you said, with an evil smile. Angie seemed to want to defend herself again, but she gave up instantly, knowing that this was not good for her at all.

“Stupid,” she murmured, before getting off the furniture and disappearing from your sight. You smiled satisfied.

“Get lost,” you whispered, perhaps with more hatred than you actually felt for the doll. She was an indispensable part of Donna's life and, consequently, yours.

Once calm, the worry that had disappeared for a moment returned to your mind, as did your hand to your pocket. Checking that there were no dolls nearby, you opened the box, admiring its shiny contents with a melancholy sigh.

“Okay, I have to think...” You whispered to yourself, finishing your task and walking aimlessly through that sinister mansion, searching in your thoughts for the answer to your doubts, the best way to make that proposal, the most important of your life.

You walked erratically until you stopped at the portrait on the stairs, In front of the beauty that the lady in black denied. Her cold, stoic gaze didn't help you at all, but hey, at least you could try.

“Donna, I know it may seem silly to you but... I would like you, that we...” You said whispering, looking shamefully at her portrait, unable to find the right words. “No, no, no, no, no, it doesn't work...”

Your desperation made you even more nervous and the little box returned to your pocket.

“Would you do me the honor of becoming…? No, that's not it either... Shit...” You continued muttering, until, determined to end that suffering, you walked towards the elevator. “Well, you know what? I'm going to improvise.”

Your legs shook as you walked through the dark hallways of the basement. You didn't want to think of more ways to make your proposal, but you couldn't help it.

“Donna, I love you and...” You murmured, just before stopping in front of the workshop doors, nerves affecting your voice, your movements. “It won’t work…”

When you opened the door slightly, a voice that resembled a heavenly song reached your ears. It was Donna, who seemed to sing softly as she made the dolls. All your intentions were eclipsed in that moment and you could only hear that sweet melody.

“Qui il tempo è dei giorni che passano pigri… E lasciano in bocca il gusto del sale… Ti butti nell'acqua e mi lasci a guardarti… E rimango da solo nella sabbia e nel sole…”

Her voice was hypnotic and the words were beautiful, full of feeling, full of what you needed to make that decision, to ask that important question. A smile appeared on your face as you walked into the workshop, enthralled by the beauty of her native language.

“Hey, Donna,” you whispered, interrupting her singing, making her turn around a bit scared, probably embarrassed because she knew you had been listening to her.

“(Y/N), I didn't... I wasn't expecting you,” she said nervously, putting aside a newly sewn doll dress.

“Well, I know, I'm sorry to interrupt you,” you said softly, approaching her and kissing her burning with embarrassment cheek. “What were you singing?”

“A song,” the doll maker said dryly, returning to her work. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to carry out your plan at that time. Doll making was her reason for existing. There was no time when she was more focused.

You laughed amused, wrapping your arms around her and gently pulling her body, speaking in her ear.

“I know, I'm asking you the name of that song, my love...” You whispered curiously, to which she laughed shyly when she felt your voice so close to her.

“Well, it's very old,” she explained, moving so you could let her work. “It is titled Sapore di Sale, by Gino Paoli.”

You nodded with an arched eyebrow, an idea slowly appearing in your mind.

“What does it mean?” You asked, determined not to leave that workshop, unfortunately for Donna.

“Taste of salt,” she responded, reviewing the ruffles of that little dress, with a disinterested voice, but that didn't surprise you.

“You have such a beautiful voice, did you know that?” You commented, again in her ear, making her sigh, but without feeling upset, rather, shy.

“That's not true,” she said, shaking her head, grabbing the hand that was passing around her collarbone.

“Sure, sure,” you said, rolling your eyes. Thoughts traveled quickly through your head, and a new idea stood before you like a revelation, a heavenly light that guided your intentions. “Hey, keep singing for me.”

“No,” Donna said, amused but firm, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“Oh, come on... I want to hear the full song...” You protested, pretending to pout. She smiled, but she shook her head.

“You're not going to understand it,” she said with a cold tone, but she didn't express such a thing. She was like that, and you loved her that way.

“I don't care,” you defended yourself, turning away from her and crossing your arms.

“If you want to listen to it so much, I think I have the vinyl upstairs,” the lady whispered, softening her tone of voice.

No matter how much time passed, Donna would never get used to human relationships. You didn't want her to do it either, it would help if she just got used to you, and you had already achieved that.

“Okay, I get the hint,” you said with a gesture of surrender, walking out of the workshop. The unpleasant sound of the chair scraping against the floor interrupted your steps, and soft hands surrounded your waist.

“I didn't want to throw you out, tesoro... Forgive me,” she whispered in your ear, making you throw your head back and kiss her, finishing that absurd apology. “Stay here with me if you want.”

“Don't worry, Donna, it's okay. Besides, I have things to do upstairs. See you later,” you said with an indifferent tone, your eyes shining with that new idea.

“What things?” She asked, frowning when you pulled away.

You shrugged and quickly disappeared, leaving behind a distraught Lady Beneviento.

“That's it...” You murmured towards the hall, where an old music player rested impassively. Under the furniture, numerous old records that you had never stopped to look at or listen to.

With a notebook in your hand, you put the desired song on the player, sitting on the floor and writing down the phrases that you hardly understood.

“Donna's right, I don't understand anything,” you murmured, a bit disappointed.

Yes, you may have had no idea what to say, how to ask the woman of your life to be even more so, but maybe, just maybe, if you could declare your love in the language she knew, there would be better results. Plus, it seemed very romantic to you. You hadn't had a better idea, it's a shame you weren't able to write down a single valid sentence.

“Di cose lasciate lontano da noi!”  An unpleasant screech interrupted your calm listening and your pathetic interpretation.

“Damn...” You grumbled. “Angie, shut up!” You shouted, scolding the doll, who was singing or rather, destroying that beautiful song. “I'm trying to…!”

You opened your eyes as another revelation flashed before them. Angie.

“Angie, Angie, wait, wait a moment,” you said, getting up from the floor and chasing the puppet, who was laughing out loud because of the annoyance she was causing on you.

“What do you want, stupid?” The doll asked, with that maddening tone that made you want to throw her into the fireplace. “You don't like the way I sing?”

“No,” you answered dryly, crossing your arms and shaking your head. No, that time you couldn't be defiant, you needed her help.

“You're screwed then,” she replied flippantly, making your knuckles turn white from the pressure you exerted on your own fists.

“Ugh, you're unbearable,” you murmured, relaxing your breathing, wondering how you were going to ask such an unpleasant being for help. “But I need your help.”

“What? I don't think I’ve heard you correctly,” the doll said, pretending to make an effort to hear you better.

“I need your help,” you said through clenched teeth, humiliating yourself a bit.

“Again,” the puppet demanded, making you roll your eyes and think about giving up. But no, you weren't going to give up so easily, not now that you had the solution to your problem in front of you. “Say it with more respect, stupid.”

You, huffing and breathing calmly, clasped your hands, channeling all your anger into them.

“Oh, Angie, my wonderful porcelain friend, I bow before you so I can be worthy of your favor,” you said, feigning adoration, something that you knew pleased the puppet, who now paid attention to you.

“Oh, am I your friend?” She asked mockingly. You nodded.

“Of course, and as my friend, I need you to help me, I... I beg you...” You said, lowering your voice in that last sentence, feeling the humiliation even more.

“Mm, okay, stupid mortal, tell me what the wonderful Angie can do for you,” she said in a tone that would be funny if you weren't burning with rage.

“You speak Italian, right?” You asked her, maintaining a calm tone.

“What stupid question is that?” Angie protested, making a contemptuous movement with her joints. “Of course I do, don't you?”

“Of course I don’t, that's why I'm asking you,” you growled, keeping your hands together and your anger inside your body. “I need you to teach me.”

“What? Teach you?” She asked curiously, climbing onto a sofa and leaning comically, resting the tip of her wooden finger on your nose.

You just nodded.

“Why do you want to learn? Donna speaks your language perfectly. In fact, she does it better than you,” the doll reproached you, greatly complicating your pleading attitude and the repression of your anger towards the puppet.

“I know, but I want... I want to learn, I think... Well, what might make her happy, you know,” you explained, letting yourself fall on the couch.

“You're up to something, stupid, and I don't like it at all,” Angie said, with a voice full of suspicion and distrust.

“What does it matter to you?” You said, too abruptly, instantly regretting it.

“If you talk to me like that, I won't help you...” The doll hummed, swaying childishly.

You rolled your eyes and counted to ten, making an extraordinary effort not to lose your patience.

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry Angie, but I can't tell you anything, at least not at the moment. It's a surprise, you know?” You explained, wishing she would stop teasing and really help you.

“A surprise? My Donna doesn't like surprises,” the puppet said, crossing her arms and making you want to give up for a moment, just for a moment.

“So, what do you know about it?” You asked, with a tone more appropriate to what you were feeling at that moment.

“I know everything about her, everything,” Angie said, with a mysterious voice.

“Fine, whatever you want... I think this could make her very happy, but if you don't want to help me...” You said, sighing and getting up from the couch, playing a little game that you thought you were going to lose, but the doll's abrupt attitude told you otherwise.

“Wait, stupid... Okay, I'll help you,” she said reluctantly, not wanting to do it but seeing that she had no other choice. “But let it not serve as a precedent. I still hate you.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual,” you said with a smile, taking the notebook out of your pocket.

You didn't really hate her, nor did she hate you. She was kind of a tug of war between two different worlds. You were the one who interrupted Donna's loneliness, but also the one who made her happy. Angie was simply jealous, because you were the one occupying her side of the bed and her smiles were directed at someone that wasn’t her anymore.

“Okay, let's start at the beginning,” the puppet said, climbing onto the coffee table, with her best teacher's tone. You shook your head, but paid attention, pencil grazing the paper of the small notebook. “Repeat after me: Io sono (Y/N)... Una stronza di merda”

“Io sono...” You repeated slowly, stopping just when you saw Angie was laughing evilly, letting you know that it wasn't something nice. “Okay, very good, how about you stop joking and really teach me?”

“What? Do you even know what I’ve said?” She snapped at you, which made you break the pencil in half.

“I can imagine...” You hissed, giving up. “Okay, very good, don't help me, I'll learn on my own. Thank you very much for your help,” you said, getting up from the couch with a grunt of displeasure.

“You're welcome, idiota,” Angie responded, making you turn around angrily, causing your dress to dance just enough for the small box to fall to the floor, and being intercepted by the doll.

“Give it to me, now,” you said, struggling with the wooden joints, which was impossible. Angie was always elusive. “Damn!”

“What is this?” She asked, staying away from you when she opened the box and the shine of the jewel was reflected on her porcelain face.

“Nothing,” you said, snatching the box from Angie and plopping down on the couch.

“It's a ring, what is that ring?” The doll continued asking, leaving you at a dead end. Glancing down the elevator hallway, you sighed, shrugging.

“It's for Donna. I... I want... I would like to ask her to...” You whispered, leaving aside your shyness and that unhealthy rivalry with the puppet. “To marry me.”

Angie gaped, looking at you and the ring several times. Surprisingly, she didn't say anything. She just stared at you curiously.

“I wanted to surprise her but... I've been thinking for weeks how to do it and... I'm not able to. I thought if I asked her in Italian it would be easier and more romantic, but you know what? It's nonsense. I don't need to marry her. I already love her with all my soul,” you said, more than for Angie, for yourself.

“Oh, so that was it...” The doll whispered, getting a little closer to you, in a surprisingly understanding way. “Do you want to marry my Donna?”

You nodded slowly, wiping away a tear that slid down your cheek.

“Of course I do... I love her and I would like to commit to her, to let her know that I will never abandon her,” you confessed, looking at the ring, dazzling you with its brilliance. Angie looked at you again, plopping down on the couch, swinging her legs.

“You really love her, huh? She asked, nudging you a bit. “Okay, I'll help you.”

“What?” You asked, shaking your head in deep disbelief.

“I know that will make Donna very happy so... Okay, I'll teach you whatever you want. But you'll have to be a good student and respect me, okay?”

“Angie, I never thought I would say this but... Thank you,” you said with a smile.

Thus, the days passed. Angie's lessons were paying off, but you felt like you still had a lot to learn. While Donna worked on her dolls, you worked on your declaration of love.

The bonds you had with Angie improved, but the same couldn't be said for Donna.

You were nervous, impatient, you wanted to be bilingual immediately, you wanted to ask her as soon as possible, but your clumsiness made it impossible. Those nerves, that little plot you had with Angie made the brunette start to get nervous, to become suspicious. You didn't want that, but you couldn't help it.

Her coldness became almost unbearable. She barely spoke to you. She knew you were hiding something, and that was something Donna couldn't tolerate, she didn't like surprises or secrets, Angie was right.

“Forever...” You repeated to the doll, who remained thoughtful, when you almost had the phrase you wanted to say to her, after several days of hard work and passivity from the lady in black.

“How cheesy,” Angie said, pretending to think of an exact translation.

“Of course it's cheesy, it's a declaration of love, it's a marriage proposal,” you said nervously, always vigilant so the lady in black wouldn't suddenly appear to ruin everything.

“Okay, okay...” Angie said, reassuring you with a gesture of her hands. “Repeat to me what you want to say, I will correct your translation,” she ordered you while you spread out that sheet of paper where you had written the same words but in Italian.

You hoped there was nothing left to change, you wanted to do it now, or you would have problems with Donna. Well, actually, you already had them.

“I wish that your gaze was the first light I see when I wake up in the morning and that the perfume of your skin were with me step by step, forever. Marry me, my love”, you said loud and clear, with Angie nodding as she read the paper.

“Right, it’s well written,” she finally said, giving it back to you, making you open your eyes, surprised.

“Is it? Really?” You asked excitedly, picking up the paper and rereading it over and over again.

“Really,” Angie said, interrupted like you by the sound of the elevator, making you both alert.

“Donna,” you said as the lady walked beside you with a cold look, the sound of her heels being the only expression she had. She ignored you and you looked at the doll, which shrugged, confused.

The brunette opened the drawers of the dining room cupboard, setting the table without paying you the slightest attention.

“Donna, hey, what are you doing?” You asked with a trembling voice, putting a hand on her shoulder, which she rejected with a sudden movement.

“You could have set the table, (Y/N), I've spent the whole morning cooking for you,” Donna said, with an annoyed whisper, which betrayed her deep anger at something you didn't know about.

“I, I'm sorry, I was...” You said embarrassed, scratching the back of your neck, crumpling your declaration of love with the sweat of your hands.

“Busy, I know, as always,” she said, interrupting you and dropping the cutlery hard on the table.

“Hey, hey, don't be mad, my love, I just...” You said softly, grabbing her wrist, a hold she broke free of with an angry gasp.

“You just what?” The lady asked abruptly, with that marked accent that told you it was a very bad time for your proposal. “You've been ignoring me for weeks... I know you're up to something, (Y/N). You think I'm stupid, right? Because I'm mentally sick, I’m not capable of realizing.”

You shook your head, not finding the right words. It was true that you had neglected Donna a bit, but your reasons were more than enough to do so.

“Hey, my love, relax, okay? It's not what you think,” you said, leaning on her shoulders, relaxing her heavy breathing, avoiding looking at her furious eye, furious with you.

“You don't know what I think,” she hissed, pushing you away again, placing the plates in their place almost breaking several of them.

Wanting to prevent her from getting hurt, you grabbed her wrists, fighting her refusal of your touch.

“Hey, okay, enough, Donna, you're going to break the plates and cut yourself, and I don't want that,” you said softly, being pushed by the lady in black until you collided with the cupboard.

“And what do you want, (Y/N)? Do you want to abandon me? Are you going to leave me alone? Is that?” She asked with her entire body tense. “Have you convinced Angie to let you escape, so she can deceive me while you abandon me?”

“But what nonsense are you saying?” You said, raising the tone of your voice, looking at the doll, who had cowardly fled to hide under a desk. “No, nothing like that, Donna.”

After another frustrated attempt to caress her, to calm her, the lady definitively separated from you, heading to the elevator hallway.

“No, no...” You lamented, running after her. “Donna, wait, aspetta un attimo!” You shouted, hoping that what you had learned would help to stop her. It did it.

Donna stood in the middle of the hallway, slowly turning around as she sobbed, looking at you with curiosity and confusion.

“What have you said?” She asked in a dark voice, taking a few steps closer to you. You shrugged, with a nervous smile.

“I said it wrong, right? Forgive me, I think I'm very clumsy,” you said, feigning informality, smiling innocently. Donna shook her head, frowning.

“No, you... I mean, it's right, but... How did you...?” Donna stammered, studying you meticulously again, breathing easier.

“I asked Angie to teach me how to speak Italian,” you admitted, being honest for your sake. “That's why I've been a bit absent lately.”

Donna looked you up and down, walking a little closer to you, playing with her hands, with that confused expression on her face.

“Why would you want to do that?” She asked, with distrust still decorating her words.

“Because I wanted to tell you that... That...” You murmured, finally making the expected gesture, kneeling on the wooden floor, drawing strength to speak from where you didn't have any. “Vorrei che i tuoi occhi fossero la mia prima luce al risveglio e il profumo della tua pelle accompagnasse ogni mio passo, per sempre. Sposami, amore mio”

The words came out of your mouth alone, without effort, without tremors, only with the decision to declare yourself definitively, to show that you loved her, that you would never abandon her. It wasn't the proposition you were looking for, but her confused, calm face was more than enough for you.

“What...” The lady in black murmured, letting you take her hand, opening the small box and showing the ring, something that made her stagger, changing the confusion for an emotional surprise, very emotional, making her have to cover her mouth with her free hand.

“What do you say, dolcezza? Would you do me the honor of being my wife?” You repeated again, trying to get a word out of the trembling lady. Her response was a quick nod, and you slipped the ring on her finger and stood up slowly, still holding her hand.

“(Y/N) I... Of course, of course I do... Oh, Gods... I love you so much...” She said, throwing herself into your arms, filling your face with kisses and caresses, with a resplendent smile, suddenly erasing all her insecurities.

“Me too, Donna, me too...”

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

also if anyone’s wondering why I’ve been making typos a lot more often and not catching them quickly + sounding oddly emotional/being easily excessively enraged without prompting

it’s withdrawals from medication lol.

except I just finally gave up after suffering for ??? half a week or more ??? of being lightheaded and feeling like I’m gonna fall over any second and took the lowest dose I have available of my old meds bc the new ones were a very low dose but annihilated me.

my doctor is on vacation and it was just horrible timing that I started new meds that were a horrendous match for me right before he would be on vacation. I stopped taking them because I shit you not I would not be conscious for even part of a day, and if I was, I’d be unable to get out of bed. think like, if you took three benadryls but you took them daily. you would live your life in bed. it was that bad after I’d only taken one pill from the first day I started that medication.

so following that I was off meds entirely for a few days but it isn’t getting better (it’s actually getting worse tbh, I can barely function rn... enough so that I just wrote function twice in a row). finally gave up and started taking my old meds at the lowest dose I have rn.

originally I stopped taking the old meds bc the physical side effects were becoming too excessive on top of another physical condition that was in a bad state (bad enough that it will keep coming back until I get on steroid injections to get rid of it completely and after that I have to find something to keep it gone long term). the side effects were making the existing problem worse, but otherwise they were just annoying and causing me assorted problems at a higher dose.

basically, both medications had side effects but I was on the one giving me four side effects for a very long time. they were annoying as fuck at a higher dose, but the meds themselves were helping me with what they were supposed to.

unfortunately until we find a medication that works for me that won’t leave me with four strong side effects on a higher dose, I’m going to have to take the old one for now because being off meds is clearly a huge issue and has been controlling my anger for years now, a lot more than I realized.

tl;dr I need to be on meds for my depression but also it helps keep my anger in check. no meds, no anger in check. very angy little person. not enough body to contain anger. anger go boom.

[littlelesbinonny]

The Devil’s Den

Chapter 16: In Which Complications Weave Webs

You can read this also on Ao3 at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

"I trained them almost as well as I trained you, almost."

What the fuck did that even mean.

Alcina was yet again pacing through her chambers. She had contained her annoyance, displeasure, and overall anger all goddamn night. The slow steps back and forth, the wine drizzling down her throat, the conscious breaths keeping the pressurized bomb detonating in one big bang; instead allowing the impending explosion a controlled release with a long, drawn-out hiss.

That comment.

That comment of Mother Miranda's played over and over in her mind.

It bothered her.

Internally Alcina knew she was just another toy. A pawn in Miranda's game. Perhaps still her favorite, as she so commonly admitted these days, but still a disposable piece in whatever she was playing at.

She was trained.

Controllable.

It was so disgustingly obvious, and plain as day to her. Had she not just spent hours following Mother Miranda around, without being asked, like the good little girl she was? Just how she had intended? A pet so well trained no command need be said in order for her to file in line and do exactly as she was expected?

Alcina huffed.

The sun had risen hours ago and she hadn't an ounce of peace in any inch of her body.

She'd attempted to climb into bed and sleep but her heart and mind saw to it that absolutely did not happen.

Thoughts of you and Mother Miranda had been battling from the moment she left her side and locked the door behind her.

While you were at the forefront, the battle had been won out by another unseen antagonist.

Something was very amiss.

Mother Miranda's gathering was perfectly to her liking. Everyone was fawning, groveling at her feet, doting and hanging on every word. Alcina found it grotesque. Miranda, basked in it.

Still, there was something staticky in the nature of her visit. Something... hidden in plain sight. Then again, maybe Alcina was simply allowing her own fears to overwrite her senses to prepare for the worst since she knew she was walking a dangerous tight-rope.

Things still didn't seem to fit.

Daniela had been entirely right about Miranda's new guards. They were different. Alcina didn't like them, either.

They were just as impossible to read as Mother Miranda; something about their vacant eyes was deeply unsettling but she didn't entertain the thought to even bother prying. She didn't want to know what they were hiding, how they seemed so tame, or give away her true feelings about the whole situation.

She, too, could feign total emptiness. And needed to.

Returning to her vanity and scooping up the wine bottle with an annoyed grab, Alcina poured the remainder into her glass, the scowl lines between her brows digging a little deeper. With a hand on her hip, her pale eyes stared at the floor and considered the days to come.

Even if Miranda didn't find you out right away, how safe was it to play this close to the fire? How could she possibly protect you if the flame leaped over the ignorant line in the sand? There was no certainty this wouldn't pan out the exact way as the last. It was a thought she didn't want to bear. And yet it was mostly all she could think about.

Your life wasn't the only one at stake.

Her daughters were compromised, as were Donna, and Angie. She was sure Karl was just as aware of you. That left how many other trusted confidants at Mother Miranda's mercy if it unraveled?

Her own life would be second to the chopping block. Perhaps first. That didn't seem to bother her much at all, aside from knowing if she died that left Miranda uncontested. Unless, everyone else was ready to take up arms against her. One alone was death, and even a small group against the Grand Matriarch was blindly trusting Lady Luck. And getting more than one sheep against the shepherd was highly unlikely.

Alcina clenched her jaw hard.

What was she doing.

She eventually finished her wine, crawled under the soft black satin sheets, propped her back against the large headboard and sat in the dark, willing her mind to shut the fuck up.

Everyone else seemed to be living their lie well enough, why was she struggling so much?

Why was pretending you didn't exist so difficult?

She knew.

She knew all too well.

She was beginning to love you.

~

Midnight.

It was now midnight.

Where was your lady of the shadows?

Perched, uncomfortably so, on your balcony railing, your eyes had been combing the streets and sidewalks below you since the sun went down.

The pads of your feet were almost numb at this point. You could only shuffle them so much after standing this long without the very loud complaints coming through.

Alcina, where are you?

You were worried, which seemed dumb. Or, was it? Alcina was a powerful vampire. She wasn't some maiden in distress somewhere. There's no way. Right?

So, what was happening?

Why wasn't she here?

Or... if she was in trouble, what could a meek little human like you do? A foe to Alcina would basically just be death in a breath for you. You'd never be able to protect her... would you? Maybe give her a head-start, one second longer to make a move, but actually protect her?

In an instant you couldn't tell the difference between rage and total heartbreak.

Wow.

Ok, that's new.

The very sudden and violent gust of wind knocked you off the thought and you were grateful. That was a wholly encompassing pain you didn't ever want to feel again.

Ok. Regroup.

New thoughts.

Your brain retraced your steps and the previous night began to unearth slowly. Maybe discussing Madeleine was too much? Maybe Alcina couldn't bear to face you from the pain that brought up? Maybe bringing up Mother Miranda was a huge mistake? Maybe you were just over-thinking all of this and some random vampire business came up she had to deal with? She was the Matriarch after-all?

The nag of barraging questions was broken up by the complete screaming in your feet.

With a huff you retreated back into you room and flopped on the beanbag chair, a thumb nail rubbing your bottom lip while your eyes stared out into the ochre tinted sky.

Huh. Those clouds moved in quickly.

Anyway.

The hours continued to pass. You continued to think and ponder and question and second-guess and eat yourself up from the inside out until you could see the light peaking over the horizon.

Alcina wasn't coming.

And you weren't tired.

It was going to be a long day.

Aaaand...

Today just sucked.

The thunderstorm set in early that morning and it went on all day. The clouds were dark and blue; like the ocean somehow got transposed into the sky and you got to watch the waves argue, push and pull with itself, spewing the water from the tussle all over the city.

Granted, you loved this kind of weather, it was your absolute favorite. But today you could have done without it.

The gremlins in your head had gone stone-cold fuck nuts and you'd given up trying to pin them down and lock them in their cages. They just chewed their way through anyway.

To your displeasure, you were spiraling again into mismanaged thoughts about Alcina. And you.

Ok, mostly about you. Your self-esteem was utter shit right now.

You'd been unsettled all day, shifting from the beanbag chair to your bed, to the couch, and now propped against the kitchen counter with a hot mug of matcha tea in your cold fingers.

The rain pelted on the hazy window to your left, your eyes transfixed on the ugly tile at your bare feet, and your stomach began to grumble along with the thunder outside.

You should be exhausted, but you weren't.

A bright flash put a wedge between your thoughts before the crash overhead rattled not only you, but the building. With a sigh you headed back to your room and nestled back into your beanbag chair, mug in hand.

You felt like you were one-hundred percent overreacting. You had no clue why Alcina hadn't shown; it may not have had anything to do with you. Still, abandonment issues were strong in you. It hurt. Being left in the dark was almost harder than the disappearance itself.

That's how it usually went down. Silence. No explanations. Cold, hard, tall walls put in place while you had your back turned. And just like that, people dropped you and left you like you didn't matter, never had, and never would.

Opening your heart wasn't easy. But you gave it to Alcina without a second thought. Brash, unwise, unsafe? Probably.

In the technicalities of it, you were a blip on her radar. A spec of time spent. She was over 100 years old, what the hell were you to her? You hadn't even been alive for half of the years she lived and breathed. The amount of lovers she had doubled your age also. What made you special? Were you? Did she feel for you like you did her? Could she love you like you loved her?

Whoa. Wait, what?

Love?

No. Hold up.

Shit was getting real deep too fast.

You rubbed your forehead angrily and tossed your blank line of sight back to the storm outside. This was stupid. You were being stupid.

She was a vampire. You were a human.

Whatever this was you had no real control over. She could drop you like the hot potato you were and disappear and you'd never be the wiser, just like everyone else. And honestly? Fine. Whatever. You were used to this shit by now.

Even if this felt different... maybe it really wasn't.

It still didn't make it hurt any less.

Actually, this might hurt a lot more.

You didn't mean to become so immersed in her. Sure, she was thrilling, enthralling, invigorating and fascinating and beautiful and tender and rough and and and...

There was still some elusive sensation you couldn't catch and put a finger on about her. It seemed deeper than all of this. As superficial as all your other relationships had been, this one, this one was a full plunge head first into an abyss you'd never been in before.

It was terrifying.

You didn't want to be lost down here all by yourself.

~

3 days passed.

Still no Alcina.

You'd put on auto-pilot and got through the weekend. And through a Monday and Tuesday at work.

Yay.

What-the-fuck-ever.

The tiny flame of hope still blinked its little self awake every night when the sun went down, just to be doused out by icy disappointment.

You weren't sure which stage of grief you were currently in. Seemed pretty pathetic. But you know what? Your feelings fucking mattered too, whether or not anyone else thought so. So, fuck that nonsense, you were allowed to fucking feel! What you felt was valid goddammit; you were so done and over downplaying your emotions just because you'd been gaslit into thinking they didn't matter your whole life!

Anger.

Yeah, yep.

You were still in stage two.

You threw your keys onto the beat-up old desk that was your wonderful catch all by the front door as you entered. It was loud and the clatter startled you out of your pissy thoughts.

Exhaustion had finally caught up to you. Sleep just wasn't your forte right now. Work sucked you dry after 2 days and you hoped you'd actually rest tonight.

Making your way through your apartment, you changed into some comfy clothes and rummaged through your fridge. Meh. Nothing looked appetizing.

You ordered a pizza and forced yourself to eat something.

The TV was playing in the background and you scrolled through your phone mindlessly into the night.

That was, until another clatter brought you out of your trance with a burst of adrenaline.

You hopped up and off the couch, nearly tipping the coffee table and pizza over.

The moment was brief, but you knew this wasn't Alcina. The woman was elegant in everything she did. She'd never once made a sound coming into your apartment.

It wasn't her.

In hind-sight you probably should have grabbed a weapon of some sort, not that you had much, but you were rushing face-first into who knew what.

The what, happened to be a blonde woman.

Young looking. Sort of disheveled, in a 'I actually wanted to look like this' kind of way. Harley-Quinn meets early 2000's emo chic?

She stumbled through the hall and her face lit up when she saw you. Her smile was toothy and bright and if you'd actually known her it might have made you just as happy to see her.

You were pretty frozen where you were, she seemed to notice and stopped in her advance.

"Oh shit, sorry," she stated still smiling, her hands out with a 'I mean no harm' gesture, "hi! I'm Angie, I uh, I'm here for Alcina - well, sort of, she doesn't actually know I'm here, actually no one knows I'm here and they're totally not supposed to, but that's really not the point. I figured you should maybe know what's going on because I know Alcina has been a bit of a mess so I assume you're probably a bit of a mess and..."

Something had distracted Angie, and thank god because her barrage of quickly tumbling string of words was only adding to your confusion.

Ok, so this was Angie. She was even more spastic than Alcina had lead you to believe.

You still hadn't moved, and hadn't gotten a word in edgewise. But she was suddenly coming towards you once more, her smile a tilted grin, the glittering in her bright hazel eyes giving her a child-like wonder.

"Holy shit, you are so fucking beautiful - no wonder she's so bent over you!" she blurted, her eyes combing you over, "Wow. Anyway! So yeah, I came to find you."

Angie left you with that and you stammered briefly before your brain actually processed this.

"O-ok... is there - are - er, uhm," you stuttered, your mouth catching up to your mangled thoughts, "is she ok? Is Alcina ok???" the question finally plopped out.

"Oh, yeah, no she's good. Well, kinda. I mean, Mother Miranda is visiting so literally everyone is out of their minds basically."

You just looked at her. It felt like your brain was working off of dial-up and not high-speed Wi-Fi right now.

Did you hear that correctly? Mother Miranda was there? With Alcina? Why???

"You're sure she's ok?"

Angie smiled wider.

"You're so cute... concerned about your big bad scary vampire lover," she teased, "yeah, little human, she's ok. That's what I came to tell you. She's ok and that's why she hasn't been to visit you. Gotta play it safe with psycho-whacko in town. She shouldn't be here for too long, we all hope anyway, but just know Alcina misses you... believe me, she'd rather be with you than catering to the banshee vulture."

You knew this was supposed to make you feel better, and it did to an extent. But holy fuck. Alcina was trapped in the underground with Mother Miranda. Sure, maybe it was all business, but it put you on edge.

"Uhm, thanks Angie. I appreciate you coming to tell me... yeah, I've uh... I've been worried."

"I figured. Alcina hasn't shown it to literally anyone, but I can tell she's in knots knowing you had no idea why she's been missing in action and all that. She can't leave, which makes for a shitty position. So, I figured I might as well play rogue hero and make sure you two love-birds don't get super bent out of shape," Angie sighed and clapped her hands together, "buuuut! I really gotta get going. I dunno when she'll be back to see you, but don't lose hope!"

You definitely had more questions but as you opened your mouth to ask, she dashed and was gone in a flash very similar to how Alcina disappeared.

Fucking vampires.

Still a little dumbfounded, you stood there mulling over the information just gifted to you.

You had to take Angie's word.

Alcina was ok.

Kind of.

~

The council meeting was short-lived.

Mother Miranda had announced her departure before sunrise and requested everyone be in attendance one last time before she left.

Alcina was present physically, but her mind had long since abandoned her and this stupid meeting. She had no idea what was spoken about, what Mother Miranda drawled on for for over an hour, nor did she care, but luckily no one aside from Donna seemed to notice her mental absence and silence. She was, however, very aware of Ethan and Mia who stood at the large looming doors through the ordeal. They were no where near her and yet she felt as if they were drooling down her neck.

If she wasn't so drained, her desire to rip them to shreds, verbally or physically, would have been much louder.

6 days she had been without seeing you.

6 days without real rest.

6 days she'd guzzled blood wine in the recesses of her bedroom, chain smoked at any given opportunity, and feigned great interest and doting to Miranda at any moment needed.

Yes, she was exhausted.

And no one knew it but herself.

She sat still, head tilted just slightly, her large brimmed hat allowing her eyes a moments peace as she puffed on her cabriole until the shuffling of vampires and lycans alike kick-started her insincere energy.

Her slate colored eyes found everyone rising from the table. Exchanging nods and pleasantries as they slowly meandered their way out. Alcina forced a nod to each in return, a pleasant but weak smile as her lungs expunged a breath of smoke.

Miranda remained seated in Alcina's chair, her grin off-putting as much as it was sweet.

Alcina rolled her eyes to herself.

As the last exited, Ethan and Mia following with a groan of the large doors closing, that left Alcina and Miranda alone.

She glanced over to the Grand Matriarch who was staring at her like a possessed inquisitive toddler.

"Has my visit taxed you too greatly, my dear Alcina?" she asked softly, "Salvatore assures me your mildness has been out of character for you, as I suspected."

Oh fuck Salvatore, was what she wanted to say.

"Salvatore should mind his own business," Alcina stated instead, her tone as spicy as it was short, "if he put as much effort into important matters as he does his nosiness, the things he could accomplish."

"Ahh, there you are," Miranda smiled widely, "your bluntness has been missed."

She wasn't sure if she was being serious or not, but Alcina was quickly running out of fakeness to play with.

"You have seemed to decline since my arrival; I fear I am running you too thin with my demands."

"Nonsense," Alcina halted her quickly, "you have done no such thing."

"You realize you are always welcome to go out and feed, even when I'm here. Your blood wine consumption has been vast, and I've noticed the quick drain in your color and energy since you've hardly left my side."

Alcina had to swallow her emotions.

"Of course, Mother Miranda. I have perhaps become too accustomed to regular feedings, your visit caught me off guard as you know, and my only wish is to be at your beckon call when need be. It is my duty, after all, to see that your visits to my city are to your expectations. I have not gone out to feed to be sure that happens."

Miranda tapped her long glassine nails on the stone table lightly, her facade painted with a glimmer, "your devotion does not go unnoticed. I didn't place you in this ranking lightly, you know. The greatness I saw, and still see within you gives me true pride. You haven't failed me since..."

The way her voice trailed off made Alcina's skin prickle.

When she stood, so did Alcina, reigning in her abruptness and mirroring Miranda's energy.

"Please, regress your worry Alcina. Know that I know, see, and hear so much more than you could fathom," she soothed, coming face to face with her, "your actions don't go unnoticed."

Miranda's sharp nails caressed her cheek once more and every hair on the back of Alcina's neck rose. Her spine fused. She was so very close, even for being so much shorter than her. Alcina could barely breathe as their eyes locked.

Did she mean what she thought she did? If she did, why hadn't she struck her down? Why wasn't she thrusting another blade into her stomach, dragging you in here by the hair to make you grovel at her feet, forcing her to kill one more lover before her ultimate demise?

What was she playing at?

Miranda grasped the sides of Alcina's face and pressed her forehead to hers, closing her eyes, breathing her scent deep into her lungs as she held her so close. Her lips nearly brushed over Alcina's before she so slowly, so calculatedly, pressed a kiss to the hollow of her cheek.

"You really are my favorite, don't ever forget it," she whispered in her ear, "ever."

The statement itself seemed to steal whatever air Alcina had left in her body. She felt like she was suffocating.

What the fuck was going on?

Miranda pulled away and left her standing there in silence. It wasn't until Ethan reentered the council room who knows how long after, that she was aware she had just been staring blankly at the empty space in front of her.

"Mother Miranda wishes you to see her departure."

Alcina had to shake herself from her trance before she straightened her back. After a moment of hard recollection she turned to see Ethan smiling with an expression she didn't like at all. In fact, she fucking hated it.

He watched her every move as she came towards the door he was holding open.

"Take that look off your face you stupid little man-thing and fuck yourself with it," she spat as she passed, no longer giving a shit about him or how she acted.

This whole thing had gotten under her skin too far; she was upset, angry, unsettled, and bitter at feeling like a clown in whatever circus Miranda had brought to her doorstep.

Fuck it. The bitch was leaving and that was good enough for her right now. She was done with feeling suffocated.

[finishinglinepress]

FLP CHAPBOOK OF THE DAY: A Kind of Flourishing by Angela Griner

On SALE now! Pre-order Price Guarantee: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/a-kind-of-flourishing-by-angela-griner/

A Kind of Flourishing contains contemplative #poetry, steeped in the art of paying attention to backyard miracles and the lessons we learn from the #nature surrounding us, no matter the setting, urban, rural, suburban, or on a remote trail somewhere. Each #poem is a practice in consenting to the complex mix that #life and nature bring of astounding love, devastating grief, and magnificent joy.

Angela Griner has worked in the field of education for more than 20 years, with a passion for literature and writing for young children, and inspiring adults to tap into their own creativity to teach young ones the love of reading and writing. She is passionate about the role of mental health, wellness, spirituality, and trauma-informed practices in teaching and learning, with creative expression as an integrative approach towards inclusive, healing centered pedagogies. She holds an MA in Reading and EdD in curriculum and instruction, specializing in urban and multicultural education. She currently resides in Orlando, Florida, teaching, writing, and painting. For more information or permission to use any of the words here, email: angelagriner@gmail.com. To see artwork and regularly posted writings go to: https://angelagriner.com

PRAISE FOR A Kind of Flourishing by Angela Griner

“If I could be a word, Like Yahweh, God’s breath, our love brought out from the chaos lifted out from the depths, broken love made whole, God-breathed yes, that’s it, Yahweh, Yahweh, Yahweh.” Angela’s poetry in A Kind of Flourishing, searches in what feels like the contradictory nature of human love and builds up as it rests in the finding of the final treasure-Yahweh. As I experience my own chaos and the chaos of the leaders I support, I am reminded of the breath, the answer. “Broken love made whole God-breathed. Yahweh.” It feels like a strong whisper. It brings me to a place of grounded rest.

–Angie Winn, activist, speaker, teacher, author of Pausing in Motion: Cultivating Resilience and Stability for a Life of Intention and Impact (Winn Summit Publishing, 2022)

Reading Angela’s poetry feels like standing on the ocean’s edge, listening to the rhythmic waves as they swell, curl and crash onto the shore of life and as you stand you realize you have been drawn into the ocean; you begin to feel the wave’s swell and every now and then the words curl over you and push you to ride the strong wave from the inside, until you find yourself lying on the sand of the shoreline. Exquisite, compelling, contemplative poetry. A fresh voice that draws my heart to peace. I can’t wait to have this on my shelf.

–Reverend Canon Patricia Orlando, priest for Spiritual Formation and Pastoral Care, Cathedral Church of St. Luke

Have you ever encountered that place where the shallow layer of earthen life breaks just enough that you can feel how deep the sea is beneath you? Beneath you with such a beauty that to glimpse it is to find a longing so deep your soul aches? Angela writes from, in, and to this space. Weaving and inviting us into the depths of grief and recovery, nature and heart, the reader is welcomed into a place of such beauty that at times made me have to find my breath and shield my eyes for it was almost too much to bear. How can the vision of a mother’s comb hold such a direct line to our hearts and the heart of God? Angela’s work here is not only a honor to her own mother, but to her own heart, to yours and mine, and to the hands and hearts that have fed, loved, formed, wounded, and healed our own souls. I hope you find that same beautiful ache in these words and pages. I hope that you welcome that longing and in it you find glimpses of yourself, of who you have been, and who you are becoming. These words call out the beauty in the wrinkled hands and old streets that formed us and form us even now, in such heart-rending beauty.

–Aaron Moore, MA, MA, LMHC, speaker, author, advocate, cofounder of Solace Counseling in Orlando, Florida

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#flpauthor #preorder #AwesomeCoverArt #poetry #chapbook #read #poems #nature #spirituality

[milk-lover]

I love hanging out in my garden with Marcy. She’s a strictly indoors cat, but every once in a while I’ll take her outside for some supervised Designated Garden Time. My backyard is bracketed on 2 sides by the house, so as long as she stays in the Triangle of Safety, I can just sit on the center of the hypotenuse and let her frolic.

Garden time ALWAYS starts with at Least 3 minutes of rolling. I don’t know why rolling is so important but it seems to be essential. Even when Marcy slips outside illegally (as opposed to being invited out for Designated Garden Time) she goes straight to rolling, which is nice for me because it makes it very easy to go and pick her up and put her back inside because it isn’t designated garden time!!! I wonder if the purpose of rolling has to do with spreading her scent, or if she just likes how concrete feels. It’s purpose may be to get as dusty as humanly (felinely?) possible, which is, coincidentally, it’s actual outcome.

After rolling comes about 5 minutes of Crouching and Sniffing. She needs to check out the space. Stop and stare every time there is a Loud Noise. Run back to the safety of the sliding back door because Sound.

After crouching and sniffing is Frolic Time. This is the bulk of Designated Garden time, about 10-15 minutes. It includes more sniffing, but in a bolder, more confident manner. Loud sounds are more or less ignored beyond a quick ear swivel. There are a few good overgrown garden beds in the Triangle of Safety, with plenty of crunchy leaves to pounce on. Folic time is also interspersed with Stare at Small Birds and Munch on Fountain Grass (which I really hope she doesn’t throw up later…). A few rolls are added in for flavor, but not to the degree that is necessary during Rolling time.

Eventually during Frolic time, Marcy will initiate the final stage of Designated Garden Time. This stage, which I have christened Ambush Predator Versus Persistence Predator, begins once Marcy starts straying outside the Triangle of Safety, into the Triangle of Potential Containment Breach. This side of the garden has significantly more obstacles, including a small pergola, the Overgrown Potato Bush Corner, the Shed, and the Empty Pond. This Triangle also critically has the two exit gates, and the Climbable Fence. Marcy knows that she is not allowed out of the garden, and I don’t think she really wants to be (the street is Really Loud, and the neighbors have outside dogs, both of which are enough of a deterrent to keep her from just beelining out of there, which is why Designated Garden Time is even allowed to exist). However, Marcy really enjoys the game of acting like she might try to escape. Hence Ambush Predator Versus Persistence Predator.

For about 5-10 minutes, Marcy will dart from obstacle to obstacle, while I follow her at a leisurely walk. As soon as I get in grabbing distance, she leaps away, runs to crouch in another hiding spot, then turns around to watch me. This is a very fun game for both of us, and is one of Marcy’s favorite forms of play; she is not very interested in most toys, which has made keeping her Enriched a bit difficult, so I’m glad I discovered this game. After a while Marcy gets tired, so, to signal the game is over, she will run to an open space and flop on her side. I may only assume that she is pretending to be a weary heroine, collapsing dramatically from her overwhelming battle wounds. At this point I will go and scoop her up, exchange some grumbling and hissing (she has a real ‘back off I’m angy hiss’ and a less serious grumbly ‘mommm 5 more minutes outside pleassseee’ hiss) grab my stuff, and go back inside to cuddle (and get my bed all dusty from all the rolling….).

I like Designated Garden Time a lot. I like that she and I can communicate so well, despite being different species. I like that I can read her and know when she’s having a good time. I like that I have a cat whose favorite game is basically tag. She’s so sweet and sassy and just has a great personality. I’ve got a really, really great cat. I’m glad that I am able to do things that make her happy, and get her energy out in a healthy manner.

[eating-plastic]

The Sterling Sisters: Friendship

I've talked at nauseum about the girls' relationships, now let's look at who their best friends are!

Marabelle:

Her best friend is Pinhead. He's very helpful around the hotel which Mara greatly appreciates. I mean as a puppet he had actual human sized hands which helped, as well as amazing strength. Then when he actually became human he was even more helpful since he became a giant man with even greater strength. Not only that, but Mara never even needed to ask for his help. He would just check up on her or her sisters cleaning or something and aid them. Also, like Mara, he can make some bomb ass food. When he's not out on the road getting supplies for the Bodega Bay Inn, he's her co-captain in the kitchens

Angelica:

With Angie it is hard to pick one best friend, as she makes them so easily. As long as you are nice to her, her family, and/or her friends, she's a pretty agreeable person. I do have to put something here tho, soooooooo, I'll say Leech Woman. She was the first puppet that Angie met because she thought she was a doll left behind by a child. As such, she tried to "rehouse" her amongst her Barbie dolls as she thought Leech looked pretty and unique. She was embarrassed when she found out that she was not only alive, but contained the soul of a human woman. Leech forgave her quickly tho, because she, like most people, liked her. Oh, and the cute doll sized dresses she put her in. Once she became human again, Leech and Angie definitely have spa days where they gossip and talk about their men

Louisa:

It's hard for Lou to make friends because of how shy and timid she is. Her best bet is hanging out with her sisters and talking to their friends. With the puppets however, it's weirdly easier. With that out of the way, her best friend is Tunneler. They both are the shyest of their groups, yet the two of them bounce of each other well. When he became human, they also bonded over the fact that they were both the shortest of their groups lol (I headcanon human Tunneler as being 5'6" or 168 cm). Their favorite activity to do together is play video games. They're the two people that stand at the edge of a crowded room and talk mad shit about some of the people present