#every now and then i just go “i love miranda. did you know that?” to my sister and then every time i explain in great detail why | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theswordmaiden · 7 months

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Love Bug

Miranda Hilmarson x Fem!Reader

valentine's day, domestic lifestyle, and unspoken words. fluff ensues. clingy little cuddle bug who adores covering you in kisses, but sometimes needs reassurance. word count: 1700... @viivenn

“In here, babe!” your voice rang out as you heard the front door open and shut. Miranda kicked off her work boots and tossed her keys onto the coffee table before quickly following the sound of your voice and smell of food. You were in the middle of cooking up some late night dinner for the pair of you, humming out a ‘hello’ as you felt big arms wrapping around you from behind.

"Hey, love bug," she murmured softly into the messy locks of hair, lips pressed to the top of your head. A pleased hum left you both at the action and you turned your head to glance up at her, the warmth of her breath meeting your cheek, tinted with the lingering scent of cigarettes that greeted your nostrils. Miranda pouted, gingerly tugging at the bottom of your shirt, a silent gesture to ask for a kiss.

You turned around in her embrace, arms moving naturally to find their place around her broad shoulders, as you pushed up on your toes to meet the blonde's height and press your lips to hers. It was sweet and simple, a display of how much she'd been missing you while she was busy all day at work, lasting for a few moments before you were first to pull away. "I missed you.." she mumbled, gazing down at you with puppy dog eyes.

"I missed you too, Mir," you replied softly, unable to hide the smile that tugged at your lips at the sight of your lipstick faintly smudged against her own mouth. It makes your heart swell with affection, and a blush begins to work its way across your cheeks and down your throat. As the vegetable stir fry began to crackle in the pan, you spun back around to face the stove, pushing the spatula around. "How was work?"

Miranda sighed quietly, unable to keep herself from frowning ever so slightly as you pulled away, though she didn't quite want to let go of you. Her arms slid down to wrap around your waist once more, palms cradling the softness of your stomach as she leaned her chest against your back, perching her head against your shoulder to watch you cook. "Hectic, as always," she nuzzled her nose against your cheekbone, desperately growing clingy, which she often did after a rough day. "But I'm fine now that I'm with you..."

You chuckled, feeling the comfortable weight of the blonde's head against your shoulder as you continued to stir the sizzling vegetables. "I'm glad I can make you feel better, then," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, not wanting to disturb the gentleness between the pair of you.

It was moments like these —such mundane domestic tasks— where you'd find solace in each other's presence. Her life was fast paced and constantly moving, yet the simpleness of coming home to just.. you made her heart soar. Miranda could never see herself 'settling down' before you came into her life, but the thought of it being with you was enticing enough.

She began to get lost in a dream-like trance, a happy grin plastered across her face as she got lost in the thought of such a life with you, and all she could do was pull you closer when you suggested she go take a shower while you finished up with dinner.

Miranda's grip on you tightened every so slightly, yet still gentle, as she sighed contentedly. "And miss out on the chance to help you cook?" she murmured, her voice laced with fondness. "I think I'll stay right here. . ." And once more her lips met the top of your head as she hummed happily, beginning to lightly sway the pair of you to an invisible rhythm while you cooked.

Of course, you knew better. By her 'helping', she simply meant distracting — not that you minded much. You’d happily be distracted, if it meant being engulfed in her affections. Her presence was a balm to your tired soul and vice versa, soothing away the fatigue that'd accumulated after a long day.

"You know," she began quietly, her tone light and playful but sincere, "I could get used to this.. coming home to you every day, I mean." The warmth of her words seemed to radiate from the blonde, beginning to spread throughout your chest. "Though, your cooking is definitely a plus.." she added lightheartedly, causing you to laugh.

You knew the older woman would survive purely off of cigarettes, stale beer, and chinese takeout if you weren’t around to take care of her. If she couldn’t throw it into the microwave to reheat it? She wouldn’t touch it. You happily spoiled her with weekly home cooked meals and treats that never lasted longer than a few days in her fridge.

Miranda reached towards one of your hands and began to slowly spin you around to face her once more, and you obliged, turning the stove on low before finally turning your body the direction she wanted. She kissed at the back of your knuckles as your eyes met, grinning proudly at the blush that adored your precious face. As her lips pulled away, you stepped closer, free hand coming to rest at her side to bring her closer until your bodies met.

Your head found itself resting along the comfortable space of her shoulder, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her chest against yours, while you listened to the comforting thrum of her heart and softness of her breathing; getting impossibly lost in the scent of her. The two of you were content with being in each other's silence, allowing you both a chance to unwind as you continued to sway together within the space of the small kitchen, your breathing falling into sync with hers.

The blonde remained the lead in swaying your bodies together in a waltzing motion, the hand not holding yours traced idly along your waist, lightly stroking the material of your shirt as it moved. She enjoyed the calming effect your body seemingly had on hers, muscles easing and exhaustion fizzling into nothing.

Sapphire orbs peered down at you, drinking up every detail of your side profile when you weren't paying attention. Every mark, blemish, and hair had been memorized to heart, yet the sight of you never failed to make her heart skip a beat or two.

The soft cadence of Miranda's voice broke through the silence, whispering against the shell of your ear. "I don't know what Gods I must've pleased to deserve you," an uncharacteristic vulnerability creeped into her voice, you knew, leaning up to stare at her sympathetically as she continued, "I just- I dunno. I really, really love you.. and I don't want this feeling to end, y'know? Like, what if I do something.. wrong, and you decide you've finally had enough of me and leave like the rest of them because I’m too much to handle, and—"

Before the blonde could finish her babbling, you leaned up to press a reassuring kiss to her lips, hoping to soothe the insecurities that lingered within her soft heart. A tender smile formed on your face as you pulled away, bringing a hand up to cup her face, brushing your thumb gently against a cheek.

"Hey," you began softly, trying to regain her focus. "Listen to me.. You have nothing to worry about when it comes to that, okay? I promise you, you aren’t too much to handle, I love the way you are just fine. You deserve all the love and affection in the world and more. There is nothing you could ever do wrong that would make me even think about leaving you, do you hear me? I love you, all of you, the good and bad. . My angel, flung out of space."

By the way her eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of deceit or doubt, you could tell it wasn’t often she received such assurance in the past. She was the one constantly putting in the work, the one chasing after the other, the one fighting to make things work—never having someone be the one putting in the work for her. And then there was you. It was a foreign concept to Miranda, but one that she was more than willing to learn to accept.

Tears threatened to form in her eyes as the words sank in, as if some invisible weight had been lifted off from her shoulders, relinquishing her of the pent-up insecurities that'd been plaguing her. You could still feel the weight of her vulnerability while holding her in your arms, but it wasn't so heavy now. She gave your hand two tight squeezes, as if to say 'thank you for loving me when I struggle to love myself', without needing to verbalize it.

You understood. Old wounds took time to heal, but she was worth waiting for. Worth tending to. Your hand squeezed hers in return, repeating the silent message right back.

The next few minutes were spent gently murmuring and crooning soft nothings into her ears, pressing the slowest, most gentle kisses across the apples of her cheeks until her aching heart settled and her face was painted red with lip prints. Soon she was back to smiling, returning the show of affection by spinning you around and dipping you low — hands clutching onto you tightly as she pulled you right back up soon after, pressing a kiss to your forehead, nose, then settling on your lips.

She released you as the timer on the oven rang, silently ushering you to the table so she could plate up dinner while you sat and relaxed for a moment, not even bothering to wipe off her face. Plates were laid out, scooping a hearty helping of stir fry onto both, making a pit stop to the fridge to snag two beers before she'd make her way over to where you sat — a certain pep to her step that wasn't quite there before now.

Your chin rests against the palm of your hand as you watch her move around the familiarity of the kitchen, the sight of her not-so-graceful movements bringing hearts to your eyes, and a fluttering to your belly. Miranda grinned down at you as she placed the plate in front of you, quirking up a brow at the way you stared at her, but making no comment as she quickly began to chow down; talking with a mouthful about something she remembered happening at work she’d been excited to tell you about all afternoon.

. . . you definitely could get used to this.

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a/n: you know it's serious when you gotta pull out the Carol reference.

viv kept doing sad miranda stuff in the server, so i felt the need to dabble with some fluff for them—first time writing both that and mir. i do hope they'll like it. (: when she's sweet, i definitely picture miranda to be just the clingiest thing imaginable. and so this was born.

#mirandahilmarson #miranda hilmarson #miranda hilmarson x reader #gwendoline christie #gwendolinechristie #gwendolineuniverse #topofthelake #topofthelakechinagirl #top of the lake #theswordmaiden

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willalove75 · 9 months

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Alcina's New Maid Pt. 23 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: You and Alcina spend a cozy morning in bed before going to pay the prisoner a visit.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: some smut, dash of sub!alci and a little soft!dom reader

Notes: Part 23!

I am SO sorry this has taken LITERALLY over a month for me to finish!! But I think I have a pretty valid excuse, for those of you who didn't see my latest update - I'm pregnant!! And it's a boy! The first trimester was ROUGH, I wasn't vomiting but I was so sick. I'm 17 weeks and am feeling much, much better! (Aside from hip/lower back pain, according to the old wives tales that's common when pregnant with boys lolz) anyway I'm hoping to update much more regularly now that I'm finally feeling better!

Click here for the rest of the series

The morning sunlight filters in through the window, gently waking you from your slumber. The feeling of a heavy arm draped across your stomach let you know that Alcina was still in bed with you. Turning over to face her, you come across a sight you don't see very often - if you've seen it at all. Alcina asleep on her stomach, one arm under her pillow under her head and the other keeping you close. Her usual pristine and perfect curls are sprawled out across the pillowcase with a few rogue strands hanging down into her face.

She looks so peaceful, if not for her size you would think she was human in this moment. Your eyes dance across her sleeping features. Her skin, riddled with scars and marks that she covers up with makeup, her over-plucked eyebrows that she also corrects with makeup are on full display. You notice how long and dark her natural eyelashes are as they rest on the tops of her cheeks. Her full pink lips, the laugh lines that rest at the corners of her mouth, everything about her is so beautiful.

You delicately tuck a strand of hair hanging in her face behind her ear, hoping you don't wake her up. But of course, Alcina is one of the lightest sleepers you've ever met - honestly you're surprised that turning in her arms didn't wake her.

Her eyes flutter open and beautiful gold irises look back at you.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Don't be, I am surprised I fell back asleep."

"Did you get up at all last night?"

"No," she says, shaking her head and pulling you in closer. "I laid here all night with you in my arms. I considered getting some work done but I couldn't bring myself to let you go."

Alcina nuzzles into your hair, taking a deep inhale and exhaling with a content sigh.

It wasn't until her hand rested against your bare back did you realize you were still naked from the events of the night before. You tuck yourself under her chin, trying to get as close as possible. Alcina kisses the top of your head and holds you against her chest. An audible purr rumbles through her as she buries her nose into your hair.

You can feel her purrs vibrate through your body and you can't help but lightly chuckle.

"What are you laughing at?" She asks, nuzzling into you more.

"Nothing, it just seems like both you and the dragon are enjoying yourselves this morning."

Alcina huffs into your hair and shakes her head.

"I suppose we are. It does seem to enjoy your company." She mumbles.

"I have a feeling I am going to enjoy her company as well. As long as she doesn't try to kill me again." You joke.

Alcina pulls away and narrows her eyes at you. You can see the hurt in her eyes, the regret she stills holds onto from that day.

"That is not something to joke about." She says with a deadly serious edge to her voice.

"I'm sorry. I only joked about it because I've been able to move past it. I don't want you to keep blaming yourself for what happened."

"I will because it was my fault."

Bringing your hand to cup her face, you brush your thumb across her skin.

"It was Miranda's fault, not yours. And I am going to remind you of that every day for the rest of my life if I have to, Alcina. I love you. I forgive you. I want you to forgive yourself."

Alcina closes her eyes with a sigh. She places her hand over yours and presses it into her skin. When her eyes open again they're glassy with unshed tears. Alcina opens and closes her mouth a few times, trying to find the words to respond with.

Instead of waiting for her response you lean in and press your lips into hers. Her golden eyes flutter shut and she kisses you back. The kiss turns from one of understanding to one of passion. Your tongue grazes her bottom lip and she parts them, allowing you in. The hand she had against yours on her cheek moves behind you before she rolls onto her back, pulling you on top.

As the kiss intensifies you bite down on Alcina's bottom lip and tug at it. A moan escapes from her and you bring your lips back to hers to swallow it. Your hands travel down her neck, past her shoulders to the tops of her breasts. She arches into your touch and you take as much of her massive breasts into your hands as you can - the only thing separating you from her skin is the thin fabric of her nightgown. Another moan slips past her lips into yours when you begin to massage her breasts. Taking her nipples between your fingers, she whimpers into your mouth causing to you moan in response when you roll them.

Last night she worshipped you, now you get to return the favor.

Releasing her breasts from your grip you grab the thin straps of her nightgown and pull them down. Alcina slides her arms out and you pull the silk down to her waist. She groans when your hands find her breasts once more and you start kissing down her jaw towards her neck.

She threads her fingers through your hair as she guides your kisses further down her body. As eager as the both of you are, you still want to take your time to try and kiss every inch of skin you can so you fight against Alcina's pushing a little. She groans at your silent protest and you respond by nipping at her collarbone, causing her to take a sharp inhale. Of course the mark immediately disappears but you're pretty sure you got your point across when you feel her grip loosen.

You kiss across her other collarbone before slowly making your way down towards her sternum and between her breasts. Her nipples harden in your hands and your own patience begins to wear thin. In one swift motion you pull away from between her breasts and take one of her hardened peaks into your mouth. Alcina's groan quickly turns into a moan as you circle your tongue around it and suck. Just before it becomes too sensitive you release her nipple with a pop and latch onto the other one, repeating your ministrations.

Moans pass through Alcina's lips as you suck on her. She certainly wasn't expecting this to happen this morning but now that you've started, she might go crazy if you stopped.

The silk of her nightgown is soft under your touch as you run your hands down her stomach. As you reach her hips you gather the fabric and begin to bunch it up before releasing her other nipple from between your lips.

Alcina's legs fall open and her hand rests on the top of your shoulder. Looking up at her you take in the sight before you. A true goddess, with her head thrown back into the pillow, her usual perfect and pristine curls splayed across the pillowcase. Her eyes are closed and her lips parted in anticipation for you to reach your next destination. She gently pushes down on your shoulder, giving you a not-subtle hint to where she wants you to go next.

Sliding between her legs, you leave open mouthed kisses on the exposed skin of her stomach as you make your way down. You place one last kiss above the band of her underwear before getting settled. Taking in the sight in front of you you see the large wet patch in the middle of her lacy underwear. Reaching out, you run your fingers up and down the wet spot, causing Alcina's breath to hitch with a groan.

Her hips begin to gently roll against your touch. Placing a kiss on the inside of her thigh, you rest your hand on top of her mound and let your thumb circle her already swollen clit. She lets out the softest whine that causes you to smile into the skin of her thigh as you continue to pepper it with light kisses.

It surprises you how sensitive she is until you realize how long it's probably been since her last release. Jealousy begins to set in when you realize the last person to touch her was that maid. The last person to unravel Alcina was that maid. Right then and there you make the decision to make sure no one will ever be able make her feel as good as you can. It becomes your mission to make sure no one else's touch but your own will ever be able to unravel her again.

Abruptly, you pull your hand away and she lets out a groan of frustration. Before she can protest any further you grab each side of her underwear and practically yank them down her long legs, throwing them aside.

You kiss your way back up the inside of her thighs before settling between her legs once more. Looking up at Alcina you see that her eyes are squeezed shut but you want her to see you pleasure her. You want her to see that it's you driving her into bliss.

"Alcina," you say as you plant kisses into her soft, muscular thighs. "look at me."

Alcina hears your request but can't bring herself to open her eyes. Last time she did it crushed her that it wasn't you between her legs. She's terrified that if she looks it won't be you there. So she shakes her head "no".

Nipping the inside of her thigh, she whimpers.

"Look at me." Again, she shakes her head no. "Alcina, my love, look at me."

The smell of her arousal is intoxicating, it's so tempting for you to say "fuck it" and feast on her as she's spread out before you, but you stay strong.

"My love," you say as you kiss the inside of her thigh again. "look at me, please."

Alcina rolls her hips towards your mouth but you do your best to push them back down, and much to your surprise you're able to - she doesn't put up much of a fight.

"I want you to look at me Alcina. Look at me."

The throbbing between her legs begins to surpass the fear she has. After taking a shaky inhale, she opens her eyes and looks down at you as she props herself up on her elbows. The air in her lungs stalls when she sees that it's you between her legs. Relief washes over her and she melts into the mattress as her body relaxes.

A smile pulls at the corner of your lips as your eyes meet her golden ones. You see the look of relief, of passion burning in them. There's almost a look of desperation, a silent plea for you to continue.

"Good job." You say. A wave of arousal courses through Alcina, she definitely wasn't expecting you to praise her and she definitely wasn't expecting the praise to turn her on even more. "Now keep your eyes on me. Can you do that?"

Alcina silently nods her head "yes" and you lower your mouth down to her. You lick a broad strip up her dripping slit, just barely brushing over her clit. Her moans fill your ears as you moan from her taste on your tongue.

Looking back up at her, you notice her eyes are closed and her head is thrown back. You nip at the inside of her thigh to get her attention and her head snaps back towards you.

"Eyes on me." You say.

Alcina goes to protest but before she can utter a word you dive back in and the words die on her tongue. Anything she was about to say was replaced by a string of soft curses and moans. Your eyes flick up to make sure she's still looking at you and you see her golden irises staring back. You smile into her and swipe your tongue over her clit before capturing it between your lips.

A large hand grips the back of your head and Alcina cries out as you lick and suck on her throbbing clit. Every time you check to make sure she's still looking at you, you see her eyes trained on you.

Doubling down on your efforts you flick your tongue over her clit faster as it throbs between your lips. Alcina's legs begin to shake and just as they start to tighten around your head, just before she's about to fall into bliss, you pull away.

Her fingers holding onto the hair on the back of your head tighten almost painfully as she cries out at the loss. Looking back up at her, her eyes are glowing with frustration and she growls at you.

"Shh," you say, kissing the inside of her thigh. "let me take care of you. Trust me my love." The grip on the back of your head loosens and her eyes soften. "Good, keep looking at me."

She nods her head and you lick up her slit once more before bringing three of your fingers to her entrance. After you coat them in her arousal, you part her lips and slowly push in. Alcina moans above you as you push your fingers in and pull them out before pushing them back in once more. You repeat this motion a few times before thrusting down to your knuckles. She lets out a moan when you start fall into a rhythm and curl your fingers into her velvety walls. Three fingers may feel good for her but you know it's not enough so after a few more thrusts and curls you add a fourth finger.

Alcina moans grow louder and you feel her clench down around you as you continue to thrust and curl your fingers. With her eyes still focused on you, she begins to rock her hips to the pace you've set.

"Oh, draga." She moans.

"Am I making you feel good my love?"

"Yes." She says with an exhale.

"Can you take more of me? Do you want me to fill you baby?" You ask as you thrust hard into her and curl your fingers.

"Yes!" She cries. "Please my love, give me more!"

Folding your thumb across your palm, you slide your whole hand into her and you feel her walls stretch around you. Alcina lets out a filthy moan yet her eyes never leave you.

"Good job, I know how much you love feeling me fill you. I know you missed this, didn't you?" You ask as you pick up the pace.

"Yes! I missed you inside of me, I missed you so much draga mea!"

Your thrusts become faster and harder as you feel her walls flutter around you. The tips of your fingers feel that spongy spot deep inside and you push further into it before your fingers curl. Alcina lets out a scream as you start to pound against that spot.

"Oh fuck, draga! Right there!" She cries as her hips rock harder against your hand.

"Right here?" You ask as you curl against that spot again and she cries out as she stares down at you. She couldn't pull her eyes away from you even if she wanted to in this moment. "No one knows you like I do, isn't that right? No one else knows exactly what spot to hit to make you see stars, do they?" You ask as you continue to fuck her.

Unable to form words, Alcina shakes her head "no" as more moans leave her lips.

"That little maid could never fuck you the way I do, could she?" Alcina's mouth hangs open and she shakes her head "no" again. "Answer me." You say before swiping your tongue over her clit.

Alcina's hips buck into you and she cries out.

"No! She could never fuck me the way you do! No one could ever fuck me the way you do!"

"Good girl." You say before latching onto her clit and sucking on it.

Alcina's moans and cries grow louder and you feel her walls beginning to clench around your hand. She's getting close but you want to drag it out as long as you possibly can.

"Not yet." You say before flicking your tongue over her clit again.

She lets out a frustrated groan and throws her head back.

"Uh-uh, look at me." She rolls her head forward and her half-lidded eyes lock onto yours. You can see in her eyes how close she is. "Not yet baby, not yet."

Alcina whimpers as she tries to hold off her orgasm. You push her further and further, her legs begin to shake around your head as she does her best to stop from falling over the edge.

"Almost, not yet." You mumble into her.

"Please." She whimpers. "Please my love."

Your eyes snap up to hers and you see the desperation in her eyes, a complete submission you've never seen before. The look in her eyes spurs you on as you thrust faster and suck harder on her clit.

"Draga, I - I can't -"

"Cum for me baby."

Alcina's body trembles and you can see the explosion behind her eyes before they roll into the back of her head as she lets out a scream. She clenches tightly around your hand as you continue to fuck her through her orgasm. Her clit throbs wildly in your mouth and you flatten your tongue against it as she bucks against you, letting her use your mouth as she rides it out.

Her cries soften and her walls start to relax. You swipe over her clit once more with your tongue - causing her to whine - before pulling your soaked hand from her. Alcina's chest rapidly rises and falls as she continues to come down from her high, trying to catch her breath. Aftershocks cause her hips and legs to twitch around you.

Crawling up next to her, Alcina opens her eyes and looks deeply into yours. Before you can say anything she pulls you into her and kisses you with an explosive passion.

When your lips part she buries her face into the side of your neck as the last of the aftershocks course through her. You run your fingers through her hair and kiss her head as she holds you tight.

Alcina has never relented control like that before with you. Even when you were pleasuring her in the past she was always in control. You wonder if she's ever let someone else take control before. Maybe before she got the cadou, but you're almost certain that she's never let someone else have control after.

She pulls away and looks into your eyes. You notice how watery they are and you cup her cheek and smile at her.

"Thank you." She says softly, holding back her tears.

"Of course. I love you."

"I love you, draga mea."

When your lips meet you feel a warmth flood your body. There's no hunger or desperation in the kiss, just pure love. She kisses you slowly for some time before your lips finally part. Alcina rests her forehead against yours and holds you tight.

"I love you so much. I am never letting you go ever again." She whispers.

"Good. Because I never want to let you go." You say back.

The two of you bask in the afterglow for a while longer, just holding each other in your arms while exchanging soft, slow kisses. It's moments like these with her that are your absolute favorite. Moments where the rest of the world disappears and it's just the two of you cuddled under the duvet. Your fingers trace her larger ones, in awe of how much bigger her hands are than yours. How soft her skin is, how strong they are. For the first time you really get a good look at the tips of her fingers and her fingernails. It fascinates you that her near perfect manicure can become such dangerous, beautiful claws in an instant.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No. It was rather uncomfortable at first but I grew used to it over time."

"Was it hard to control?"

"I wouldn't say it was hard, but it did take some getting used to in the beginning. There were plenty of instances where a poor maid was in the wrong place at the wrong time and she was accidentally sliced to ribbons."

"What happened?"

"They were more difficult to control when I was in fits of anger - which happened often back then. They seemed to have a mind of their own."

"Like a defense mechanism?"

"In a way, yes. So if I wasn't careful about my movements or how close I was to someone when I was angry, well, lets just say it didn't often end well."

"How long did it take you to control them?"

"Not very long, a few years perhaps. Although still to this day I can feel them itching to come out when I'm upset or angry, but I have much better control now than I did then."

"Do you file them?"

"Every so often, yes. But the wear and tear of my everyday work naturally wears them down so they're not as sharp."

"Is this the shortest they go without you having to trim them?"

"You are so full of questions this morning." She says with a smile as a light blush dusts your cheeks. Alcina kisses the side of your head before answering. "This is their natural length, but when necessary I can retract them further. It can be uncomfortable but it's worth it so I don't injure my partner during certain... activities." She says with a smirk.

You thread your fingers through hers and cuddle into Alcina with a giggle. Alcina nuzzles into you and kisses you on the head before letting out a sigh.

"Nooo." You whine, knowing what her sigh meant.

"I know draga, but we've been in bed all morning. I have a long list of things that need to be done today, including speaking with our prisoner."

Grumbling into her shoulder, Alcina lets out a laugh before pulling you close and kissing you one more time before throwing the covers off of the two of you.

You try with all of your might to hold Alcina down but she quickly overpowers you and flips you onto your back. She clicks her tongue at you as she leans down.

"Valiant effort my darling, but unfortunately you do not have the strength to overpower me just yet." Your bottom lip pushes out into a pout and she clicks her tongue at you again. "Oh, what's the matter my love? There is no pouting after such a wonderful morning." She says before leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on your lips.

Alcina sits up and gets out of bed, not before tapping you on the thigh, prompting you to get out of bed as well.

"Come now draga, we have many things to do today."

The two of you get dressed and make your way down to the dining room for breakfast. During your meal Alcina goes over what she has to do today with the girls and discusses what she wants to happen with the prisoner.

"After breakfast we will pay him a little visit. Draga, if you would like to join us you are more than welcome to, but you are under no obligation."

"I would like to come, but I can stay out of sight. I just want to see if he tells you everything."

"What do you mean by that?" Cassandra asks.

"Y/n here went and visited our prisoner yesterday."

"You went into the dungeon alone?!" Bela asks.

"And you didn't die??" Cassandra asks.

"Why would you do that?!" Daniela yells.

"Girls, that's enough. We already spoke about it last night. There is no need for you to interrogate her about it, but I appreciate your concern for her wellbeing." Alcina says before turning back towards you. "Draga you are more than welcome to stay within earshot if you would like and if you want to make an appearance you may do so."

"I just don't want to see him get hurt."

"We will make sure you are escorted out of the dungeon before any of that takes place."

"Thank you." You say with a smile.

"Of course, my love."

The rest of the meal flies by and as the time to go down to the dungeon gets closer, you slowly begin to lose your appetite.

The girls finish their meals and Alcina swirls the rest of her wine in her glass before downing it in one gulp.

"Alright girls, I believe it's time to go visit the prisoner."

"I can't wait to take a bite out of him." Cassandra says with hungry eyes.

"And you say I'm always hungry." Daniela mumbles.

"Because you are! You insatiable beast!" Cassandra snaps back.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Girls. Enough. I need you to either take this seriously or you will not participate. Do you understand?" Alcina says with a stern look.

"Yes mother." They reply in unison.

"Ready, draga?" Alcina asks, reaching her hand out towards you.

You nod your head and take her hand in yours.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

"Then let us go."

Alcina leads you from the dining room towards the dungeon door. The closer you get the harder you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Bela, Cassandra and Daniela swarm down the stairs in a fit of excited giggles and Alcina stops at the top of the steps before kneeling down to your height.

"Are you sure you want to come, my love? I don't want you to feel pressured to be there."

"I know, but I want to. I have to. I just need to know-" you take a deep breath and Alcina nods at you, not needing you to finish your response. She knows why you feel like you need to come, that you need to see for yourself if he was as innocent as you thought he was - as you wanted him to be.

Alcina looks deeply into your eyes before pulling you in for a kiss. Immediately, your body relaxes into her touch and you smile into her. When your lips part Alcina stands back up and takes your hand in hers. She guides you through the dungeon door and you know there's no turning back now. You can only hope he tells them the truth - the whole truth. Not only does his fate hang in the balance, but so does the remainder of hope you've been clinging to.

"Well, here goes nothing." You say to yourself as you take the final steps towards the cell.

#willalove75 #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #wlw fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #re8 #re8 fanfiction #re8 alcina #re8 lady dimitrescu #re8 village

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itneverendshere · 5 months

Text

my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue

just a lil something, completely self indulgent and inspired by miranda and steven in s2 of sex & the city 😔🥺

warnings: angst😤; a little fluffy; soft!rafe because i personally LOVE him

you did it without thinking.

it felt as if your body had a mind of its own and while your brain yelled at you to stay put and act normal, your heart simply didn’t allow it. your feet pounded against the street pavement, you didn’t even try to look back, afraid that if you did, you’d crumble. the sound of your breath filled your ears, drowning out the chaos of the main street.

rafe.

the name echoed in your mind like some sort of haunted melody. you didn’t expect to see him, not after so many months without a single glimpse of his perfect face. you’d broken up months ago, you were supposed to be over him. and yet, despite all your attempts, his presence still stirred something within you.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.

you rounded the corner, trying to convince yourself that it was fine. so what if he was back in town? so what if he didn’t call you? so what if you two promised to stay friends and yet…it’s none of your business. you should be thankful.

but seeing him out of the blue, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, except it felt like it came from a hundred directions at once. maybe you just needed a minute to process all of it. maybe a venti latte and some retail therapy would do the trick.

except they didn’t and hours later, here you are, stuck to your couch wondering how the hell you are supposed to step foot outside knowing there’s a possibility you might run into him again.

your brain always goes into overdrive when you think of rafe cameron. and now you’re stuck here, overthinking every little thing. should you text him? would that be too desperate? but what if he's thinking the same thing?

and if he isn’t?

there's a sudden knock on your apartment door, the sound cuts through the haze of your mind, jolting you back to reality. you reluctantly peel yourself off the couch and shuffle over to the door, wondering if that amazon package you ordered this morning is here already.

you glance towards the peephole, debating whether to check who it is or simply ignore it. after a moment of internal deliberation, curiosity wins out, and you approach the door cautiously.

you peer through the peephole, half expecting to see a stranger or maybe the mailman with a package. but to your surprise—it's rafe.

holy fuck.

your breath catches in your throat as you take in his familiar face from up close, a jumble of emotions stirring inside you.

what's he doing here? how did he get your new address? you moved from your parent’s home just a month ago.

for a beat, you’re frozen. no one taught you how to proceed in these kinds of situations, but you are fairly certain letting an ex-boyfriend, the one you’re still in love with, inside your personal space is a big no-no.

should you open the door? pretend you’re not home? smash your head against a wall and pray it knocks you out instantly? before you can even begin to form a plan, there's another knock, this time a little more insistent, as if he knows you’re on the other side.

“i can hear you breathing.”

panic sets in.

summoning whatever fake bravery you have left, you take a deep breath and reluctantly twist the doorknob. with your hands trembling like crazy, you swing the door open, revealing rafe standing there.

you gulp, feeling like your throat's suddenly decided to go on strike “yeah-uh. hi!”

his hands are clutched behind his back and his eyes take turns between your face and the door. there's a slight furrow in his brow, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the curve of his nice cheekbones.

“that was a shitty thing you did. running away from me on the street.”

you feel a crazy amount of guilt wash over you. he’s not wrong. running away like that was cowardly, but did he expect you to run into him with open arms?

“i didn’t run?”

his lips, usually set in a determined line, now quiver ever so slightly, “you ran.”

the weight of what you did hangs over you like a dark cloud. could you have acted any more immaturely?

“well, i wasn’t expecting to see you-“ you manage to blurt out, your voice shaky, “and-and, i-“

“it really hurt my feelings.” rafe's finger points accusingly at his chest, and you feel like you’re about to shrink into the floor under the weight of his disappointment.

you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. you can feel your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears and you use every remaining strength inside you not to cry in front of him. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.

“i don’t deal very well with ex-boyfriends?”

his expression softens slightly, and he leans his weight against the doorframe, his eyes searching yours.

“hey, sweetheart, this is me.” his hand moves again and he gently places it on his chest, right over his heart, as if trying to convey the sincerity of his words “rafe.”

but he’s not your rafe anymore.

that’s the one thing you want to tell him. you chew on your lower lip wondering if honesty would do you any good right now. if it would erase all these months, weeks, days, hours, without him.

a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, after what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to utter a response.

"yeah..."

rafe's gaze remains fixed on you, “i held you while you were sleeping.”

if you weren’t crying before, you are now. it's like a dam has burst inside you. tears stream down your face like a leaky faucet, nothing strong enough to hold them back. they're not the dainty tears you see in movies, but big, ugly cries that leave your mascara streaked and your nose running.

you try to speak, but all that comes out are choked sobs and sniffles. it's embarrassing, really, how out of control you feel. but you can't help it even as your front neighbor comes into view.

you do quick 180 and bolt back into your apartment, hand pressed against your forehead as if holding it will stop the raging headache you’re about to experience. you don’t have to look back to know rafe’s following you, trailing inside and swiftly closing the door with a soft click.

"i’m sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "i’m really sorry. i’m so sorry-“

rafe's hands reach out, his palms open as if he's dealing with a wounded animal.

"hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance, "it's okay.”

“i hadn’t seen you in so long,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, “and i missed you and then i did that shit-“

his hand envelops yours, his touch grounding you. "hey, breathe," he urges softly, “it’s okay.”

tears well up in your eyes again, blurring your vision as you struggle to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. "’m sorry," you choke out, voice breaking with each syllable. "i'm so sorry, rafe."

“it wasn’t that shitty, okay?” rafe's expression softens further, the way it does only for you.

“it was! i’m a shitty person.”

his thumb gently brushes away your tears as he shakes his head slowly. "no, you're not.”

“i am! you would’ve never done something that shitty.”

the nagging feeling that you’ve let him down once again is eating you alive.

he raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "what do you call showing up here, in your apartment, in the middle of the afternoon and calling you shitty, huh?" he asks, his tone teasing yet affectionate.

you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, “t’s not the same.”

rafe reaches out, gently cupping your face in his palm as he brushes his thumb gently across your cheek. “yeah, it is.”

without even questioning it, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes as your allow yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. for the first time in months.

“i miss you,” you confess, “whenever something happens, i just want to tell you about it.”

“so, tell me.” the tender smile softens the lines on his face, "’m right here.”

you feel a rush of relief, a weight lifting off your chest as if he's just granted you permission to exhale. and yet, tears still well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and spilling over onto your cheeks in hot.

“i have a date.”

a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, tightening with each syllable. your voice quivers with uncertainty, the words tumbling out like stones from a crumbling cliff. you don’t have to look to know your hands are shaking like leaves in a storm. you’re pretty sure if you held them up, they'd look like one of those ridiculous earthquake simulations.

rafe nods, doing his best to stop the cheeky grin growing on his face, as he shakes his head understandingly, “looking forward to it, are ya?”

but you only sob harder.

"hey, hey- sweetheart. it's alright.” he says gently, his voice soothing you better than any depressing song on your playlist, “just jokin’ around.”

but you can't shake off the feeling of shame, the burning embarrassment of admitting to something you wish you hadn't. of letting someone take you out, someone who isn’t rafe, your rafe.

"i just... i thought it would help me move on, y’know?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"i get it.” he tries to smile at you again, but it looks sad, and it makes your heart hurt. his hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear from your cheek, “i’m not mad.”

but you are. at you. at him.

the words linger in the back of your mind, gnawing at your insides. you want to scream, to lash out at him for being so understanding, for not fighting for you the way you wish he would.

you push his hands away from your face, your voice cracking. that’s all it seems to do since he walked back into your life ten minutes ago.

"that's it?" you exclaim, "you're just okay with it? with me going on a stupid date with someone else?"

it was like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and he didn't know how to stand back up.

rafe’s jaw is set in a firm clench, "i just want you to be happy.”

“but i'm not happy!" you retort, your voice rising in volume as tears continue to stream down your face. "i'm miserable, rafe! and you're just standing there, doing nothing!”

his chest is rising and falling heavily, as if he’s trying to contain himself.

"i'm doing nothing?” he asks so quietly; you take a double take to make sure it’s still him. his eyes flicker with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. it feels like staring into a wildfire, all fierce and untamed.

you swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of your words crashing down on you. the way rafe looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you.

"i’m here, aren't i? i’m listening, okay? i'm trying to understand."

but his words only fuel the fire of your frustration.

"i need you to tell me that you still care. that you don't want me to go on that date because you want me for yourself."

you could see the anger draining out of him, leaving behind this raw, broken man. he slumps forward, shoulders drooping. his eyes go from blazing with intensity to just... empty. like he just flicked off a light switch behind them.

it’s heartbreaking, honestly, to see him just fizzle out into nothing.

“’course i want you for myself," he whispers, "but i can't force you to choose me. you left me.”

it’s a devastating sight, really. to see someone you love so deeply, someone who’s always been so strong, just fall apart like that. it’s like watching a building crumble to the ground.

and the worst part is, you know you’re the one who caused it. you’re the reason he’s standing there looking so broken, so lost. and you hate yourself for it, hate that you couldn’t be what he needed, hate that you had to go and ruin everything.

“i left because i didn’t feel good enough,” your voice is hoarse from screaming and crying, “not because i stopped loving you.”

for a moment, the silence between you is deafening, stretching on through time. it’s like neither of you knows what to say.

and then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifts in his expression, he looks as if you have hit him.

“i never wanted you to feel that way,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. “i never wanted you to doubt how much you mean to me.”

his words hang in the air, like they’re carrying the weight of all the things you two never said, all the things you wished you could take back. as if he’s putting it all out there, laying his soul bare for you to see, finally showing you everything he’s been keeping bottled up inside.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, the words a solemn oath sworn in the quiet of the night. “’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”

“i’m sorry too,” you choke out. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”

and then, without another word, without another moment wasted on regrets and what-ifs, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. it’s like coming home after a long time.

and yeah, you might have a shit ton of things and problems to sort through, but rafe cameron is worth that and more.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fluff #rafe angst #rafe cameron angst #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx rafe cameron

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rallamajoop · 1 year

Text

An absurdly detailed analysis of That One Soldat Photo

Hang around wintersberg fandom long enough, and you'll likely run into a popular crack-theory that, since Heisenberg obviously thinks that building a set of huge, yellow-painted signposts is a good way to point Ethan to the Stronghold, maybe it's Heisenberg who's been leaving all those handy, yellow-painted supply crates all over the place for Ethan to find! It's exactly the kind of fun nonsense I'd enjoy if it didn't feel folks are starting to take it a little too literally (by which I mean I have now read multiple fics in which it's played completely straight ‒ and, like, people do get that it's just a crack theory, right? Like, why would Heisenberg have left so many yellow crates around his own damn factory? Look, you don't have to explain every last game mechanic, not everything is lore!)

But as anyone reading my own fic would know, I'm guilty of echoing the idea that Heisenberg-was-leaving-stuff-for-Ethan myself ‒ just not because of any yellow-striped crates. No, I'm way more interested in this one weird soldat-photo you can find in the village ‒ long hours before you'll ever see your first Soldat in the flesh...

Very creepy. And if you turn it over, you'll find a clue to a puzzle you'll have to solve in order to progress.

(And of course, when you do look out the window, odds are you'll get jump-scared by a lycan just when you're focused on the numbers, because RE8 loves that sort of misdirection ‒ but I digress.)

Anyway, the code you can see out the window will open a safe containing a jack handle you'll need to move a vehicle in the village, as well as the M1911 pistol (which will very likely be your go-to handgun for the rest of the game). The game is full of conveniently-helpful clues like that (heck, most games are), often with no obvious Watsonian justification. And there are other photos around the village ‒ Luiza has a whole photo album ‒ but photos of experiments created by Miranda and her lords don't generally turn up outside their own territory.

For a player exploring the village for the first time, that photo is a lovely little bit of foreshadowing, hinting at monsters and factory stages to come. But on replaying with full knowledge of Heisenberg's later attempts to get Ethan on his side, that Soldat photo is just enough to make you go, huh... did Heisenberg leave that for Ethan? Like, on purpose?

You can find another copy of that photo later, in Heisenberg's factory, along with his notes on his early series Soldat experiments. Which doesn't really prove anything beyond the fact that assets exist to be reused... but it does at least make it pretty canon that Heisenberg has photos of his Soldats sitting around.

Possibly also significant: both the clue photo and the factory documents are tagged 'geekmemo' in the game files. Most everything related to Heisenberg in the files is labeled 'geek'-something ‒ it seems to be an early nickname for his character that lasted well into production. Everything in the factory is geek-something, even the model for the passageway from the altar to the bridge is labeled 'pathtogeek'. Considering that so many soldat-related assets are already labeled 'geek', maybe that 'geekmemo' tag doesn't really tell us anything we don't already know ‒ but it certainly doesn't work against the idea that Heisenberg wrote that 'memo' himself.

Besides, it's not like there isn't precedent for this kind of thing. RE7 had a whole mechanic where you'd have to find 'treasure photos' pointing out the location of a few rare and useful items, all with "I hid something here" written on the back. We're never explicitly told who left those photos lying around, but it's obviously Lucas: he loves playing games, he loves taunting prisoners with the possibility of escape, and who else would it be? The complete population of the Baker mansion is like 6 people and a bunch of semi-sentient mould.

Over in RE8, there are a lot more village resident who might have left that clue lying around. Like it or not though, Heisenberg is very much RE8's equivalent of Lucas: the family's wildcard show-boater who loves making Ethan jump through hoops for his amusement. So how does the game let us know it was Heisenberg who left this particular clue? Well, who else would leave a message on the back of a Soldat photo?

There's may be additional supporting evidence Heisenberg could be involved ‒ most notably the location, being a locked-off cul-de-sac labeled 'Workshop' on signs and maps. The area is full of metal junk very much like you'll later see lying around the factory.

The workshop location does have other relevance ‒ it makes sense that you'd find the jack handle in the village workshop, whether Heisenberg was involved or not. But it also stands to reason that if there's anywhere in the village proper where Heisenberg might hang around and leave clues for Ethan, the workshop is it. And you have to admit that leaving Ethan useful stuff in a safe along with an easy clue that will likely get him jumped by a lycan is 100% more in-character for the guy than just leaving useful stuff out in the open, even if it doesn't really prove anything either.

There's one more weird-little does-this-mean-anything detail: there are three dead crows near the safe too.

It's not the first time in the game you've seen dead crows (there were a bunch outside the village, and I've talked about what that might mean in the context of Miranda's cult before). But I don't remember finding any others around the village itself, other than in this one spot. And instead of being hung from trees like a ritual sacrifice, these ones are just dead ‒ messily, and with blood everywhere.

Now, maybe it doesn't mean anything, but is there anyone in the village more likely to vent his frustrations by violently killing a few of Mother Miranda's avian avatars than Heisenberg? I'd think not.

In conclusion: I still don't think all those yellow crates have anything to do with Heisenberg. And I still don't know for sure whether the RE8 development team wanted me to assume that Heisenberg left Ethan that photo, jack handle and gun. I don't know if we're supposed to read that Heisenberg keeps a workshop in the village and sometimes kills crows out of spite. But the evidence sure does point that way ‒ and it's as valid an interpretation as anything else you might take from this game.

#wintersberg #Karl Heisenberg #Ethan Winters #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil #meta

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lycanscandance · 1 year

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i want to break up prank

Mother Miranda] stares at you wide-eyed for the longest time before she just starts crying by that point you hug her and tell her it's a prank which she slaps you for, and cuddles you cuz you scared the shit out of her

lady-d] I'm breaking up with you, no. what do you mean no? Just no. doesn't believe you and she's right, but you will be punished for this later

karl-h] wh-what? the first time you have ever seen him cry and you're not evil so you hold him as he scolds you for scaring him

donna-b] starts shaking and crying immediately asking what she did wrong, in turn, making you cry cuz now you feel bad

moreau-s] is ugly crying and it takes about an hour to calm him down enough to tell him it's a prank

ethan-w] why? cuz umm... exactly. he knows you would never break up with him, but it does get a little giggle out of him in the end

mia-w] Never, not ever tell a woman you want to break up, in a kitchen. she grabbed a frying pan saying, do you want me to kill you? She knew it was a prank but you never did ask to break up again, and if you do it won't be in the kitchen

rosemary-w] its cuz I'm a freak... isn't it? you can't help but pick her up into your arms while telling her how much you love her. I'm sorry baby it's just a prank Bebe it's okay...

bela-d] she laughed right in your face, you're not breaking up with me love. is all she said before going back to the paperwork she was doing

cassandera-d] What, why, is it someone else? starts asking every question possible to try and fix the problem before telling her it is a prank, she is not letting you out of her sight for the next month

Danila-d] you just can't bring yourself the tell her that, cuz you called her into your shared room, and when she came in she ran up to you hugging you and saying how happy she was to see you.

#ladydimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #donnabenevientoxreader #karl heisenburg x reader #ethan winters x reader

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sirianasims · 3 months

Text

Chapter 43.6

My mother taught me that sometimes it rains. Sometimes it pours, and you’re soaked through and miserable and it feels like it may never stop. But no matter how heavily the rain falls, no matter how drenched you get, you are not the rain.

Some day you will be dry again.

Things have been easier since I blocked Paul, the pain slowly fading to a dull ache, barely noticeable as long as I don’t dig too deep. I try to keep myself distracted, reading Lucky Girl for what must be the fifth time. It’s my comfort read, Evie reminds me a little of myself. I think we could have been friends, hanging out and agreeing that being in love is the absolute worst, actually, while we yearn for our respective idiots.

The memory of Paul is not the only thing I’m trying to escape. With all my channels inactive, even the haters have gone quiet and my views are dropping every week. I’ve toyed with the idea of simply abandoning everything and starting a new brand, but I don’t want to rebuild my follower count from scratch. I don’t have time for it. My bills are starting to pile up, and while I can still pay them for now, it won’t be long before I have to either crawl back to mom and dad and ask for help, or get one of those real jobs people keep talking about. I’m not even sure which option I would hate the most, so I hide in my book for now.

A sharp knock on the door jerks me away from Evie admiring Jude in an art gallery and back to reality.

I hesitate for a moment. I have no idea who it could be, and I don’t want to see anyone, especially not some smarmy salesperson – or worse, my landlord. With a sigh, I put my book face down on the armrest and shuffle to the door.

Miranda is leaning casually against the doorway, her high heels making her look almost as tall as Samara. At their feet, a couple of large shopping bags are threatening to fall over and spill their contents on my doormat.

“See, Samara? I told you she was still alive.”

“So you did. Then I sure hope she has a very good excuse for refusing to see her best friends for almost two months!“

I feel my cheeks get hot. “Uh, hi. I’m sorry I disappeared, I’ve just had a rough time since, you know. But I promise to call you, maybe we can make plans soon?”

“No need, we’re here now, so you won’t have to worry about that.” Samara’s smile is cheerful, but her tone is resolute. Even so, I try to object.

“Seriously, it’s not a good time, I haven’t even showered for like three days, and the place is a mess.”

“Girl, since when do we care about mess? We’re here because we love you – stinky or not.” She wrinkles her nose, making the freckles on her face dance.

“What is this, some sort of intervention?”

Miranda smirks. “Pretty much. Sorry, but someone’s gotta save you from yourself, and we’re not letting you waste any more time moping over a man who didn’t deserve you. We’ve got snacks and a box of rosé with your name on it, so you might as well get out of the way.”

“Fiiine, but no judging the absolute state of the place.” I roll my eyes and invite them in with a dramatic flourish of my arm, but I can’t help but smile. Samara bounces through the door despite the heavy shopping bags, and Miranda goes straight for my laptop.

“What’s your login?”

“It’s just my birthday, and before you come for me, yes, I know that’s bad.”

Miranda shakes her head as the laptop plays a jaunty tune and lets her in.

“You’ll get the full security lecture another day, right now it’s time to declare inbox bankruptcy. We’re getting rid of all this bullshit so you can get back to business.”

“Miranda, there are literally thousands of messages. It’ll take days to go through, maybe weeks.”

She doesn’t even look up, her perfectly manicured fingers a blur over the keyboard.

“Give me an hour. I’m going to delete anything that contains profanity, and then I’ll sort the rest into folders, so don’t worry, you won’t be losing anything permanently. But I’m going to mark everything as read and archive it so you can get a fresh start. If anyone wants something important from you, they’ll reach out again, trust me.”

I stop myself from protesting further. Miranda knows what she’s doing, and it really would be a relief not to worry about everything.

Behind me, Samara has stopped unpacking the groceries.

“Just let Miranda work her magic and get your smelly butt into a bath. And make it a nice one, soak for a bit and pretend you’re a mermaid or something. We’ll get everything set up in here while you scrub off the sadness.”

I feel a slight pang of embarrassment as I walk into the bathroom. The sunlight is creating little islands of warmth on the black tiles, but it also mercilessly illuminates the limescale in the shower and a couple of cotton swabs that missed the bin. The sink is decorated with a few dried clumps of toothpaste, each of them outlined in red from last time I dyed my hair.

How did I let it get this bad?

I turn on the taps and leave them running while I undress. Then, I lower myself awkwardly into the tub and let the water cascade through my fingers. It would be nice if it was this easy, washing away the sadness and frustration, the longing and the hurt.

The gentle sound of flowing water is mesmerising, and before I know it, the tub is full. I add a small handful of bath salts and swirl it around. A soothing scent of lavender rises with the steam.

When I lie down, the hot water envelops me like a hug. It feels like it’s thawing something in me that I didn’t even know was frozen. I close my eyes and listen to Samara and Miranda laughing about something. It’s almost like being home and hearing my parents talk softly in the other room. It always made me feel safe. Less alone.

As the water begins to cool, I scrub down, slowly, methodically, running soapy hands along every inch of my body. It feels good, like I’m massaging life back into my limbs. Tonight will be fun, I decide. We’re going to stuff our faces with junk food, get absolutely smashed on cheap wine, and pretend that my heart was never broken by some has-been actor from Tartosa.

I watch as the tub empties, imagining that all my sadness is flowing down the drain with the water and the tiny undissolved purple specks from the bath salt. Finally, I move to the shower to wash my hair and rinse off.

When I get out, I stop and examine myself in the mirror. I look a little tired and worn, like I’ve been sick. In a way, I guess I have. But the black tiles are radiating warmth under my feet and there are birds singing outside my window and I’m beginning to feel like everything is going to be fine.

Samara’s blue face glitters in the candlelight. The packaging from the masks we’ve applied is littered with adjectives like “rejuvenating” and “revitalising”, bold statements, but they do actually feel pretty good.

“Sorry, Julia, I know you love this crap, but I just can’t get over the cake tongue. Who decided cake would be the best bait for people? Are we really that obsessed with desserts?”

I look over my nails one last time and put down the file. “I’m actually more disturbed by the whole chin udder situation. I mean, who came up with that?”

Samara makes a disgusted face, but she’s not ready to change the subject. “Seriously though, even if you were absolutely starving and cake was your favourite thing in the whole world, would you really approach a plant shaped like a giant cow head with huge teeth? Really? And then try to grab what is obviously its tongue?”

Miranda giggles tipsily. “No, but can we talk about how Ned’s relationship with the cow plant is super toxic, though? I mean, it always starts out slow, right? Oh, so it eats meat, little bit of a red flag there, but it’s probably fine. And before you know it, you find yourself luring your neighbours to their deaths just to keep it happy.”

“Yeah, it’s classic, the way he keeps making excuses for her? She didn’t mean it, she’s just misunderstood! She only bites me because she loves me! I’m like, Ned, your girlfriend is eating people, you need professional help.”

Samara laughs. “I guess some men would literally rather feed their neighbours to a plant than go to therapy.”

My phone vibrates on the armrest behind me.

“Sorry, it’s Marten again, I better let him know I’ve got company. He’s been super busy with his exams so we haven’t had much time to play lately.”

Miranda raises an eyebrow.

“And he’s still fine just being your friend, is he?”

“Why wouldn’t he be? I mean, he was fine being my friend even though I was dating Paul. Besides, I haven’t even seen him in person since GeekCon, it’s been almost a year…”

I stop. Almost a year since I met Paul. It feels like a lifetime ago. I wonder what would have happened if I’d cosplayed as someone else, or if Paul hadn’t been there that day. Maybe I could have been dating Marten instead of having my heart trampled by some fickle celebrity. Nice, normal Marten with his mousy hair and his robot facts. I smile.

“Anyway, there’s nothing between me and Marten. Or anyone else, for that matter.”

Miranda sends me a mischievous grin. “That reminds me, you know that hot bartender from The Rooftop? Super flirty, cheekbones that could cut glass?”

“The one who gave us free refills on Samara’s birthday? Shane or something?”

“Yeah, him! He asked about you last time, wondered why you hadn’t come with us for like three weeks in a row.”

“How does he even know my name?”

“He didn’t, he just asked about our red-haired friend but you’ve clearly made an impression.” Miranda winks. “Maybe he’d be willing to help you get over Paul.”

I shake my head. “No thanks, I’m pretty sure he’s slept with like half the regulars. And I’m not looking for hook-ups, not now. I need to get my so-called career back on track, but I want to do something… different.”

I think of Paul, of late nights in hotel rooms, laughing at the most ridiculous b-movies before having amazing sex and falling asleep with his arms around me. “I don’t want to do cosplay again, absolutely nothing with movies or comics or superheroes.”

Miranda looks thoughtful. “What about just fashion stuff? I started out with just my shoe reviews and now it’s more general style advice and outfits to match your heels, but you have an eye for it and you know a lot about cuts and materials and design.”

“I guess? I don’t really know a lot about classic fashion, though, like couture and such. And it’s a really tough business to get into, plus I’d kinda like to keep the expenses down for now.”

“You could always just jump on one of the big trends. I bet you’d make bank as one of those clean girl aesthetic influencers or something.”

“That’s actually a good idea. I mean, I can probably get pretty far with just the makeup and clothes I already have. And I could move my sewing machine and rearrange the room, set up my camera and the lights…”

Miranda laughs. “We can start right now as long as it means we don’t have to watch any more terrible movies tonight.”

I reach for the remote. “Not a chance.”

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #julia duchelli #samara davies #miranda villanueva

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naturesapphic · 8 days

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Heyyy I don't know if you are taking request but i had this ideia for quite some time.

A Lady dimitrescu x yandere maid reader!!! Imagine dimitrescu gets a new maid from mother Miranda like the usual but the reader start to get obsessed with dimitrescu, doing the reader start to sabotage the other "favorite" maids so she could be the top one for Alcina but she still behave very shy, innocent and loyal to her.

And Alcina have a bit of suspension about the sabotages that reader is doing but she just puts a side because "her best maid wouldn't do that right?!"

New Maid

Lady dimitrescu x yandere!maid!fem!reader

Warnings: reader being yandere, cussing, mentions of murder, blood

Lady dimitrescu was yours. She will be yours. No one or nothing will come between the two of you. That’s what you thought when you first laid eyes on her. All your thoughts were swarmed with her. Mother Miranda had captured and made you into one of her servants and now she’s giving you away to lady dimitrescu. You knew about her since the beginning, when mother Miranda gathered them all and made them into her own. You always had a fascination towards lady dimitrescu and you were practically bouncing off the walls when mother Miranda announced that you would be working for her.

The first day at the castle was amazing. Everything was beautiful in the castle and that was the day you properly met the lady. She was even more gorgeous and elegant up close. She was truly extraordinary. The lady spent her free time showing you around the castle and told you what your duties would be, she even showed you her favorite and best maids. That made you angry and you were going to keep a special eye on them. Nothing and no one would get in the way of you and your lady being together. Your plan was simple, sabotage and mess them up to make alcina put her focus on you and not on them. Should be very easy but it was pretty difficult at first.

It was a couple of days later since your first day and you did everything in your power to see what the maids do and remember their schedule. You were working on your plan every second you could and you decided to make friends with her daughters to. You think that’s extra brownie points in your mind, I mean, who wouldn’t want to be with someone who’s good with kids? That’s what you thought and you believed it. It was a couple of months later with you working with the lady and it was going exactly according to plan. The lady’s “favorite” maids? After making them seem bad, the lady was disgusted and banished them which gave you opportunity to dispose of them if you know what I mean.

You were crazy. Absolutely feral, especially to lady dimitrescu. You would do absolutely anything for her so that’s why killing those maids we’re important to you. They weren’t needed and they were in the way of your love for her. There won’t be any distractions, you won’t allow it. You’ve been here at castle dimitrescu for almost a year now. Lady dimitrescu loved you. You were her favorite maid and she made sure you knew it too. You were always so shy, loyal, and attentive towards her. She appreciated it but she had a suspicion about you and the past maids. She would notice how you would look at them, with some kind of malice and hatred towards them. She didn’t think the maids were being rude or anything towards you but maybe they were and that’s why you were acting so cold towards them. She will never fully know but her suspicion grows everyday with you. How she noticed the longing stares you would give her, how you were always by her side, incase she needed something. She would also notice how she would hear sounds in the night coming from your room and she would hear your voice too. It concerned her but…her best maid wouldn’t do anything like that…right?

A/n: thank you @juujp for the request! It was fun to write and I hope you enjoyed it! I hope everyone else enjoyed it too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 3 months

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Hello, this might be unusual but can you make a story about the reader x Donna. Reader a BSAA agent(a great soldier) she is a member of the Hound Wolf Squad and is task by Chris Redfield to infiltrate the village and annihilate any BOWs. She ended up getting captured because Miranda knows she here. They had a meeting on what are they gonna do to her and Miranda said that Donna should take her. Donna took her to the manor, reader found the whole olace creepy but as soldier she quickly plans to escape. She observe the house, investigate it, she did everything to get information about the Lords especially Donna because her mission is to kill them. In Donna's POV she hates her, because she infiltrated her village, and she knows that she's going to hurt them especially Miranda. Weeks later nothing happened, a miracle happened because the two had gotten close. Donna hates that she's falling in love with her. The truth is that she has orders to kill Reader but now she couldn't do it because her heart says so. Reader got a message that they are going to attack and she prepared secretly but was conflicted because she cares for Donna and doesn't want to hurt her. Reader help her squad kill all of the monster, most of people is gone in that place. Reader goes to Donna's house to kill her but found her sitting on her chair without her veil on, she's crying because she felt betrayed and hurt, she also confess her feelings for her, reader points the gun at her but her hands are shaking but then she threw the gun away because kisses her and confess her own feelings. Reader persuaded her to come with her in the outside world where she lives, Donna didn't hesitate. After the mission at the BSAA HQ reader convinces the higher ups to not execute Donna, she made a deal that they can still observe Donna for precautions but gets to live with reader. Donna experience the outside world and loves. She and reader happily live together.

Note: Additional information

Reader lives in a apartment in New York.

Donna's scar was removed by the professionals at the BSAA because she begged them to.

While they live together, reader tells her all of the things she needs to know about living outside the village, the technologies, and etc

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

Outside the village

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem, BSAA agent! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff

Word count: 7.196

Summary: You have a job to do, but you were not capable...

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

Another day, another day you were locked in that place. It didn't matter how many times you had tried to escape, how many ways you had tried to get rid of your captor. You simply couldn't run away, and little by little, you began to lose hope.

You weren't just anyone. You weren't a damsel in distress. You were supposed to be able to escape, to face every possible danger. That was your duty as a BSAA special agent, as a member of Chris Redfield's squad.

Your mission was simple, perhaps too simple: infiltrate that mysterious village, testing ground for someone who called herself Mother Miranda, and study the place.

It wasn't like your other jobs, biological weapons were everywhere. You had to fight to survive in a place like that, but you couldn't. They caught you.

That sinister priestess and her four loyal servants judged you, thinking about what your fate was going to be. You could have died in many ways, but you didn't. Apparently that fungic witch thought it would be fun to leave your life in the hands of her sinister Lords. They all screamed, almost fought to possess you, to torture you.

Sometimes you would have preferred to be the main ingredient in the castle's wines, or to be turned into a metal monster. That was much better than your uncertain fate, in the hands of the strange woman in black and her puppet, in the hands of Donna Beneviento.

Your life, your fate was entrusted to that woman with a veil on her face, that silent woman, apparently calm, the complete opposite of her maddening puppet. Even at first you thought it was a joke, but you remembered the monsters resembling terrible werewolves, and you realized that it was not.

You weren't chained, or locked in a dark, small basement. No, you were free, or almost. Your training made you run away as soon as you set foot in that creepy mansion, but it didn't take long for you to realize that you couldn't, you just couldn't.

Surely due to the pollen of those horrible yellow flowers, in conjunction with those strange powers that Lady Beneviento possessed, you were unable to leave the house. Monstrous creatures, traumatic episodes from your past, all that stuff awaited you behind the wooden doors. You knew they weren't real, but the irrational fear they caused you, was.

Giving up on your escape attempts became your best option. Furthermore, it could be a good opportunity to learn more about those people, about that mysterious lady in black. If you found a way to get that information to your squad, you could surely be satisfied with your work.

You found nothing in your research, nothing relevant, just a portrait of a beautiful woman, who was probably your own captor, and hundreds of books that talked about the properties of plants.

If you had to describe that woman in black, the only word that came to mind was: ghost. Yes, she was like a ghost, like a shadow that followed you in the darkness, but she couldn't catch you. You only saw her during the hours when your stomach was protesting hunger. It didn't make much sense in your head, why feed your enemy?

For days on end, you tried to get any words out of her mouth. You screamed, you cried, you even begged, nothing. Only the puppet, Angie, seemed to be able to communicate with you, and she didn't exactly say nice things. Your curiosity and interest seemed shared. That black shadow that you thought you imagined was there, watching you, watching over its prey, but without interacting, without running towards you and devouring you without mercy.

After several weeks of failed conversations, you decided to give up and not try anymore. If you wanted to know anything about Donna Beneviento, you would have to find out on your own.

“Okay, let's see,” you said, searching that dark office. Your probation wasn't so bad after all. You were almost free, almost.

Your hands ran through the dusty books on the shelves. Nothing interesting, just books about plants, about their alkaloids. It seemed like a dead end, just like your life was at that moment.

You sighed listlessly, wondering like every night, if Chris and the others were looking for you, a mantra that you repeated over and over again so as not to break down.

Your fingers noticed something different between them, a book that seemed different from the rest, without a title, without the hard cover that its companions had.

With a frown and a small glance around you, to avoid black shadows, or spy puppets, you took out that small, old book, studying its flowery cover.

“Donna Beneviento, 9 years old,” you read on the small sticker on the cover. A triumphant smile appeared on your face, but it faded as soon as you turned the pages.

It looked like a little girl's exercise book; mathematical operations, sentences with excellent handwriting for such a little girl, nothing useful.

“Wait...” You whispered when you reached the last page. Moved by your curiosity, you approached the desk, to the small light that illuminated the room. It seemed that the writing was more improvised, not as careful, but it was the same handwriting, the same words in Italian that you deciphered little by little.

The farmer's daughters have picked on me again. They say I'm a monster. Josef told me that nothing was wrong, that I could connect me with the other children. Lie, lie, lie.

I will never be like the others, not in this way. I don't want to, I can't talk to them, I only have Angie, she's the only one who doesn't laugh at my scar, she's the only one I can trust. Josef always says that she is good, and that she takes care of me. Angie helps me to talk to him. She helps me not to feel alone.

I miss my parents...

“Wow... A scar? Is that why you don't let yourself be seen?” You asked quietly, blinking, looking for a second part of that improvised diary.

“What are you doing, stupid stranger?!” The puppet's screeching voice interrupted your investigation, climbing towards the desk, closely followed by the lady in black, who lunged violently towards you, snatching the book.

“I, I'm, I'm sorry, I was...” You stammered fearfully. It was not common to see Donna so unhinged, with her breathing so labored. She stepped back, holding the book tightly to her chest.

“Stupid!” Angie shouted, annoyed, speaking for her owner, who was still trembling with fear. You were supposed to be the one who should tremble.

You didn't know if that was the final moment of your life, if your curiosity surpassed an invisible line that made the lady react, in the worst possible way. But no, you couldn't die, you had to survive, you had to reunite with your squad, you had to come back home.

In such a tense scenario, there was only one thing you could do. Violence would be of no use to you, you had nothing to do against those hallucinations. You would have to try... To reason.

“Oh, hey, no, nothing's wrong...” You murmured when you heard sobs behind that veil, surely due to the intrusion into her personal life, into her apparently painful childhood. “You know, children also laughed at me at school.”

Your words barely had any effect on her nervous breathing. You were going to die.

“Shut up, you stupid gossip stranger!” Angie rebuked you.

“It's, it's true,” you said, taking a breath, facing a fight you couldn't win. “I know what it’s like, really.”

The lady in black shook her head, but she made no further attempt to back away. Maybe she was listening to you.

“I don't believe you,” Angie said, with a different tone, with that tone that wasn't Angie's, but Donna's. “You are a liar, you want to deceive me.”

“No, no, I...” you said, putting your hands in a position of surrender, trying to empathize with your captor, with the woman who sustained your life. “I always played with the boys at recess, I never liked things… Let's say girl things. Maybe, maybe I didn't have any physical defects but... I was still the weirdo in the class.”

That explanation changed something. The sobbing stopped and her grip on the small book lessened.

“You have no idea...” A hoarse, soft, and unfamiliar voice whispered. You looked askance at the doll, it hadn't been her. Donna had spoken. “You don't know what it's like to be terribly alone!”

Those screams made you cringe. Well, you had gotten her to talk, but that wasn't a particularly good thing.

“Maybe I know,” you said with more confidence, with the security that moving her consciousness produced in your body. “You don't know me, Donna.”

“And why would I want to know you?” She asked, still upset. It was a strange question, almost as if she really wasn't able to understand the conversation. “You are my prisoner.”

“Well then you should chain me and lock me in some dark room, because as long as I'm still standing, I will look for a way to escape and rest assured, one day, I will defeat you and your entire cult.”

“I will never let you go,” she whispered in a dark, menacing voice. You didn't shrink that time, you stood up to her, nodding, crossing your arms.

“I find it very ironic that someone who says has suffered so much, causes that same thing in people. I don't pity you, Donna, you're not better than anyone, you're a... A monster.”

“Do you think so?” She asked, sobbing again, terribly offended by those words, by that same insult that she suffered in her childhood.

Your expression softened. No, you couldn't use those weapons against her, it wasn't fair. Suddenly your childhood, the mocking laughter of your classmates passed through to torment you for your mistake. You sighed and closed your eyes.

“Actually, I don't think so,” you said in a whisper, trying in vain to forget your harsh words. “At least you are the one who feeds me and I am not your food.”

She calmed down, nodding, but her sobs betraying her sadness.

“Do you like being here with me?” She asked with a different tone, playing with her hands. Another question seemingly out of context, for which you had no concrete answer.

“I don't... I don't know what to say to that. I’m your prisoner, you said it,” you answered honestly.

“Would you prefer to be the prisoner of one of my siblings instead of mine?” Donna asked again, with a strange curiosity, taking a step closer to you, as if her mood had suddenly changed.

“No,” you sighed, shaking your head and remembering that strange judgment and those aberrations produced by the fungus.

“Maybe you'd like to have dinner with me, so you can tell me more lies about your childhood,” she told you ironically, making you widen your eyes.

Well, it was progress. If you got along with your captor maybe... No, (Y/N), you weren't going to get out of there.

You nodded and followed her out of the office, towards a dinner that was anything but quiet.

Contrary to what it seemed to you at first, that dinner marked the beginning of an even stranger stage. Donna was no longer a shadow that stalked you in the darkness. She was there, with you, keeping you company, having tea with you, as if you were a visitor, a distant relative who had come to visit her.

It was an unusual relationship, but it was a relationship. Maybe you were getting too used to those conversations. At night in the darkness of your room, the portrait on the staircase appeared in front of you, moving something inside you, a feeling that you repressed again and again. No, you couldn't begin to feel those things, you didn't want to feel something for that woman, you couldn't.

Donna seemed different too, sometimes wanting to talk, sometimes running away from you mid-conversation. It was like something was torturing her, almost like… Like she felt the same as you. No, it wasn't possible, she didn't feel it, you didn't feel it, you couldn't.

After a couple of weeks, routine came into your life, almost as if you had forgotten why you were there. You lived with Donna, in her house, you ate, you laughed, you had everything you needed to forget about your old life and you had... Well, you had a strange woman by your side, for whom you felt equally strange things.

One night, when you were drinking tea in silence, a silence that was becoming more and more comfortable for you, a horrible sound of a ring interrupted.

“Phone, phone...” Angie hummed, to which Donna snorted, standing up from the couch and looking at you from under her veil before disappearing down the hallway that led to the elevator.

Why would she want to go down to talk on the phone? There was one on a nearby table. What would be so important that prevent you from hearing it?

Your BSAA instincts woke up after that curious hibernation caused by your captor. You had to know who was on the other side. Surely it was important to your research.

Making sure there were no puppets on the sight, you got up, leaving that book you were reading on the table. The phone kept ringing and your chance to listen was very close. Carefully, waiting for Donna to reach the device below, you picked it up, making as less noise as possible and controlling your breathing.

“Donna, I’ve heard that the girl from the BSAA is still alive,” an evil voice, which you recognized instantly, made you almost give away your presence. Miranda.

“Yes, Mother Miranda, she is still with me,” Donna responded, with an unusual tremor in her voice.

“Oh, Donna... Why is it so difficult for me to get you to follow my orders?” The priestess reproached, which made you frown.

“I was watching her, Mother Miranda, I don't think she represents a trea...” The lady in black said, stuttering. Your brow furrowed even more. She wasn't supposed to say that, right?

“Shut up! I don't have the mood for your nonsense, Beneviento. Are you so stupid that you don't even know how to kill that girl? Or are you playing with her?” Miranda said, with an annoyed tone, which made a knot settle in your stomach.

“No, Mother, (Y/N)...” Donna muttered, confused and terrified.

“(Y/N)? Since when is that nosy stranger (Y/N) to you? Donna, you're making me angry, and you don't want that, do you?” The witch interrupted again, making the lady sob again.

“No, Mother…”

“Well, stop being stupid and finish your damn job. I want that bitch dead tomorrow, you hear me?” The blonde threatened, making a shiver run through your body.

“But, Mother, I...” Donna protested, confusing you even more.

“No buts, Donna! Oh, this is the last time I trust a nutcase like you a job. I'll go do the work myself,” Miranda hissed.

“No, no, please, Mother!” Donna screeched, making you pull the phone away from her ear. “I, I will do it, I’m not going to fail you”

“Are you sure?” The witch asked, with a tone that betrayed an evil smile.

“Yes, Mother,” Donna said. “I will finish her right now.”

After that last sentence, the phone was hung up and your nerves began to make your body tremble.

At what point did you feel sorry for that woman? You shouldn't do it, she was the enemy, a dangerous madwoman, a... A monster. Your heart beat furiously, hurt to see what she was really like. She never cared about you. She never felt the same as you. She was going to kill you.

But once again, your survival instinct acted in your place. It didn't matter how horrible the images from your past, those hallucinations, were. You would have to escape, or you would die, or she, the woman you were beginning to love... Love, yes love, was going to kill you in favor of her Goddess. You were never more than a prisoner.

Before the noise of the elevator made you react, you were already walking towards the exit, closing your eyes as you opened those doors, waiting for a horrible landscape in front of you. There was nothing, just the snow glistening in the moonlight. You were free. Surely Donna hadn't found out, she hadn't paid attention to keeping you. It was your last chance.

Looking at that estate for the last time, feeling the dagger of irrational betrayal in your back, you ran away, crying for that stupid disappointment, for that love that you lost without even wanting to feel it. No, she wasn't Donna, she was a monster. You shouldn't love a monster.

When you arrived at that ominous clearing, next to those disturbing tombs, your haste and disorientation made you trip over something, or rather, someone.

“Shit,” you said, as you fell into the cold snow, when the cold of your disappointment and your feelings materialized in the form of frozen snow on your face.

You turned around, keeping some of your cool. You had to escape, Donna didn't love you, she would kill you.

That unknown figure took shape before your eyes. It wasn't a tree, nor a grave. It was a person, a uniformed person that you soon recognized.

“My God…Oliver?” You said, discovering the badge that dead soldier was wearing on his chest. He was your partner, not your best friend, but your BSAA partner. “But, but, what are you doing here?” You asked, searching his body.

“Alpha to Gamma, I repeat, Alpha to Gamma, the target has been annihilated. I had nothing to do, over...” A voice came from the soldier's walkie-talkie. You couldn't help but smile when you recognized it. Chris, it was Chris.

“Chris? Chris is that you?” You asked, pressing the button. If you could contact him, it meant he was in the village, they had come for you, or so you thought.

“Who are you?” Your boss asked, suspicious, as always.

“My God, Chris, it's (Y/N)” you responded, elated, happy because your hopes of getting out of there were getting closer and closer.

“(Y/N)? No, it can't be possible, confirm your unit code for me,” he demanded, making you snort, always looking at the door of that elevator, making sure your death wasn't close.

“Fuck...” You muttered, tired of formalities. “2141994X,” you said loud and clear, causing a sigh of relief to be heard on the other side of the walkie.

“Are you alive? You don't know how glad I am to hear you, (Y/N),” Chris said, laughing as always. “We thought the wolves had eaten you.”

“They almost did,” you joked, searching the soldier's body for weapons, grabbing a gun and a knife. “What are you doing here?”

“The headquarters has given us permission to bomb the village. Most of the monsters are dead, and the civilians have been evacuated.”

“What about Miranda?” You asked, looking for the soldier's phone, which still had some battery.

“Target down, soldier,” he replied, relieved, which made you feel the same way.

“Good, good,” you whispered without pressing the button. “What are my orders, captain?”

“Withdraw, soldier, I will send a helicopter to your location,” he responded. “Is Oliver dead?”

“Frozen, captain...” You whispered, searching in his vest for what you assumed you were going to need. “I have his flares.”

“Perfect, with that we can locate you, throw one and...”

“Wait, they're not all dead yet. I have something left to do, captain,” you said, with the image of Donna in your mind, of her betrayal, changing that forbidden love you felt for revenge. “There is one Lord left.”

“Can you do it by yourself?” Chris asked, out of courtesy, you were one of the best.

“Perfectly, over and out,” you said with a somber voice, checking that your poor companion's gun had bullets.

Yes, you wanted revenge, it was your duty. Everyone was dead, there was no Miranda, no Lords and soon, there would be no village. Only remained her, only the last of the biological weapons remained. She had to die, that's how it had to be. That's what you wanted. What you wanted, your heart was screaming at you to come to your senses, so that you wouldn't do it. It was you or her, there was no turning back.

With one kick, already equipped with weapons and protective equipment, you burst into the old mansion, which seemed to be in complete solitude. You carefully pointed the gun forward, looking for any danger, acting like a true soldier, one without a heart. The portrait on the stairs made you take a breath. Your feelings clouded your actions. No, you had to do it, you had to do it.

A sob interrupted the cries of your conscience. A black figure rested on the table, sitting in a chair, with its head buried in its arms. Donna.

“Freeze!” You shouted, pointing directly at her. The woman turned around slowly, still crying. There was nothing anymore. There was no black veil that prevented you from seeing her face. Yes, she was the woman in the portrait, that beautiful woman.

A horrible scar occupied the right side of her face, weeping, tear-filled face.

“Don’t, don't move, Donna,” you said, trembling, but holding the gun steady. She looked at you and cried even harder. Not even Angie was there, she was resting under the table, inert.

“Why did you leave?” She asked with a voice broken by crying, with a marked and evident accent, with a disappointed tone, broken with pain.

“What?” You asked, shaking your head, approaching slowly, the gun pointed at her head. You were ready to pull the trigger, but your body wasn't so ready. She was beautiful… She was… Fuck, (Y/N), you really loved her. “You were going to kill me.”

“I don't...” Donna murmured confusedly, not giving importance to your weapon.

“Cut the crap. I heard the conversation you had with Miranda. I know you were going to do it,” you said through clenched teeth. Her gaze turned dark.

“If I wanted to do it, I would have done it already,” she said, getting up from the chair and facing you, not being aware that at any moment her life would end. “You have abandoned me”

“Me? You kidnapped me! I was your prisoner!” You shouted angrily, getting closer, putting the barrel of your gun on her forehead.

“Do you think you would have been able to get out if I hadn't left you to do it?” She asked, lowering her head and closing her only eye. Those words made you shake your head, confused.

“What? Did you let me out? You just accused me of having abandoned you,” you whispered, tired and nervous. You had to end it, you had to, but you didn't want to.

“I would rather lose you than kill you,” she whispered, recognizing something in her words, feelings very similar to yours. “You can't blame me for feeling betrayed.”

“Can't I? Donna, I…Okay, that's okay, I have, I have to finish that,” you said, shaking your head. “Everyone is dead, Miranda no longer exists and you…”

“I'm the only one left,” she said listlessly, sighing, recognizing her fate, something that made the gun in your hand start to shake. “I guess that's what had to happen.”

“What? I'm holding a gun to your fucking head, and you just give up?” You protested, feeling angry not for her, but for yourself.

Donna nodded, bending down to pick up her doll and hug it childishly.

“Do it, (Y/N), do your job,” the doll maker whispered, closing her eye and trembling in fear. You shook your head but after a moment of hesitation, the gun returned to her forehead.

“Shut up, don't... Don't tell me to do it, Donna,” you said, not being able to stop a tear from sliding down your cheek. “Tell me that you want to live, that you don't want me to kill you, please...”

“I'd rather you do it yourself, (Y/N). I'm too in love with you to want to fight. I would rather die than live a life without you.”

“What?” That was all you could say.

She confirmed to you that she felt the same, that the fear of falling in love with her enemy made her behave erratically. No, Donna wasn't going to kill you. She had saved your life, sacrificing the love she felt, how happy she seemed at your side, just so you could live.

“No, you can't do this to me...” You sobbed, your finger on the trigger.

“I just wanted you to know it. I don't want your pity, (Y/N). I couldn't die without being honest with you, now I can do it calmly.”

A burst of hatred came to your gaze. You hated yourself, you hated the BSAA, Miranda, everything around you, even yourself. You, an impressive soldier, one of the best in the squad, succumbing to love for her enemy, for a biological weapon.

“Tell me not to do it,” you said with a sinister voice. “Tell me not to do it!”

Donna didn't respond, she simply took a deep breath and with the hand that wasn't holding the puppet, she placed the gun in her face, caressing your hand in the process.

Your hand shook, your finger placed on the trigger, as you closed your eyes. The crying made you move, but your emotions stopped you from shooting. Instead, in a fit of fury, punctuated by an angry scream, you threw the gun across the room, cupping the woman in black's face with your hands and doing something you had long wanted to do.

Your lips collided with hers in a messy, improvised but passionate way. She followed your kiss awkwardly, surprised, dropping Angie and hugging your waist, not wanting to be separated from you. The salty taste of your tears mixed on your lips, which moved with eagerness, with hunger for affection, with that love that you could only express with that improvised act.

“Donna, I... I love you...” You sobbed, not stopping kissing her, wanting to merge with her and be one, not wanting to think about your duty, about the BSAA, about Miranda. None of that existed in that room, only you, only those kisses that had been waiting for a long time.

“I love you...” She repeated, caressing your cheek, your whole body, not letting your lips go, in a fierce fight to express even more love.

An untimely crash caused you to hug her protectively. The whole house shook, a blinding glare came through one of the windows. Time was up. The village would be destroyed.

“What was that?” The lady in black asked, allowing herself to be protected by your arms, which stabilized her body after that tremor.

“Shit, Chris...” You muttered, thinking about what your next step was going to be. On the vest that you stole from your partner, that flare stood out, that signal to be released. “Donna, listen to me. You can't stay here... They're going, they're going to destroy the village. You have, you have to come with me. I will get you to safety.”

“With you?” She asked scared, taking refuge in your arms when more tremors shook the mansion.

“Yes, with me...” You sighed, kissing her again. Her face was confused but, after another terrible explosion, she nodded slowly. “Come on, run, to the door!” You shrieked, dodging the pieces of plaster that fell from the ceiling, taking one last look at the Angie doll.

“Gods...” Donna said, horrified by the sight of the helicopters surrounding the town, destroying it in front of her shining eye.

“There is no time!” You screamed again, dragging her by the hand to a safe place, where you lit the flare and shook it vigorously, hugging the woman in black, who was crying inconsolably. She had lost everything.

One of the helicopters approached you, launching a ladder.

“Come on, go up,” you said, extending your hand as you climbed the rope ladders until you were safe, until both of you were safe.

“It's good to see you, soldier!” A happy Chris said when the door closed, and the helicopter began its journey. You shook his hand, still hugging the woman in black, who was trembling.

“Captain, a biological weapon!” One of the soldiers screamed, pointing his rifle at Donna, who took refuge in you, scared.

“It's Donna Beneviento, one of the Lords!” Another of your former companions yelled, making Chris's smile fade. He took out his gun while you put a hand in front of him to ask for calm.

“No, no, wait,” you said with a tone of voice that was too weak. “Don't shoot, don't shoot!”

“Stand aside, soldier, we have a job to do,” Chris said, trying unsuccessfully to get you away from the brunette, who was moaning in fear and trembling, trembling too much.

“No, wait! It is not what you are thinking!” You screamed, trying to calm that hustle and bustle that you caused.

“What were you thinking, (Y/N)? You put a threat on the helicopter, have you gone crazy?”

“Listen to me Chris, she's harmless,” you said with a broken voice, unable to keep your eyes on all the weapons pointed at Donna.

“Captain, give us the order! We have her in range,” one of the soldiers said.

“No, she is mine...” Chris whispered, removing the safe of his gun.

“No, please!” You screeched.

“Move away, (Y/N),” your boss threatened, narrowing his eyes.

“No!” You shouted, quickly thinking of anything that could dissuade them. “Is this how you solve problems?”

“What?”He asked confused.

“Have you forgotten about Piers? He got infected too, he was a BOW too! Would you have shot him?” You asked, showing off those beer nights, in which you and Chris shared experiences.

“He was important to me!” Your captain screamed, hurt by that low blow, which you took advantage of.

“And she is important to me,” you said firmly, making Donna look at you with a confused and grateful expression.

Chris sighed, lowering his gun and running a hand over the back of his neck. After a moment of unbearable tension, his gaze relaxed, gesturing to your companions, who looked confused.

“Lower your weapons,” The captain sighed, to which they obeyed. “I hope I don't have to regret this, (Y/N)”

“You won't do it,” you said, ready for the worst.

Chris nodded, obviously suspicious.

“Sedate her,” he ordered her men, who immediately took Donna away from your arms, which made her get terribly nervous, moving desperately.

“(Y/N), aiutami, per favore!” She screamed uncontrollably, trying to get away from the soldiers.

“Be still, damn it...” One of your companions muttered, trying to stick a needle into her neck.

“Enough! You're scaring her!” You screamed, also fighting against the soldiers. “Chris!”

“I'm not taking any risks, (Y/N). Those are my conditions.”

You bit back an insult and sighed, pushing your way through the tangle of soldiers so you could cup Donna's face in your hands and reassure her.

“Come on, Donna, calm down, nothing's wrong... I'm here with you...” You said, closing your eyes, helping her to breathe, to calm down, while the needle sank into her skin, making her eye dance and collapse in your arms.

Once asleep, she was placed on a stretcher and covered with a small blanket. You sat next to her, holding her hand under the annoyed looks of your mates.

Chris sighed and sat down next to you, still looking at the hand you were holding, trying to figure out what kind of connection you had with Donna.

You glared at him, still not forgiving his lack of heart. He smiled, shaking his head and pulled out a folder with some old papers, searching through them for something.

“Donna Beneviento,” he said, reading one of those papers with a mocking expression. “Descendant of a noble Italian family. Unable to communicate with people, suffering from severe mental illness...”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You asked annoyed.

“Wait, I'm not finished,” he said amused, gesturing with his hand for you to shut up. “The experiment with Cadou was favorable. She retains her human appearance despite the scar that has grown on the right side of her face. She is mentally unstable and underdeveloped. Donna is capable of causing hallucinations and can control her dolls from a distance. Ugh, (Y/N), you've chosen the wrong woman.”

“You know that's the type of women I like,” you said, squeezing Donna's pale hand tightly, which you refused to let go.

He nodded, extending the paper towards you.

“This is Miranda's report about her. Apparently you're right. She doesn't pose much danger, as long as she stays stable,” Chris said, while you read those horrible words.

“Leave that to me,” you commented, sure of what you were saying, making your captain laugh with amusement.

“What are you up to?” He asked curiously, bringing you a bottle of beer, which you reluctantly took.

“Donna is coming with me. I'll take her to my house,” you said, having already thought about what your plans were.

“The BSAA is not going to like it,” Chris commented.

“Since when do you care about the BSAA?” You joked.

“I'll have to make miracles, (Y/N). I don't like talking to those damn bureaucrats,” he said, looking out of the corner of his eye at Donna, who remained asleep, almost angelically.

“I'll take care of that,” you said, leaning your back against the wall of the vehicle, relaxing after everything you had experienced.

The trip was slow, but finally, you arrived at the HQ. There, you had more problems. You had to beg for Donna not to be executed. Luckily, Chris was on your side now. The conditions were simple, but acceptable. Donna would stay there for a while, long enough to undergo whatever tests the BSAA wanted, then she would be free to leave, as long as she remained contactable.

To separate from her hurt you, but there was no other choice. After a few months, in which you thought that the deal you made no longer existed, that call came.

“Donna...” You sighed, smiling when she crossed the door of the facility, guarded by a couple of agents. She didn't seem the same. Her black dress was gone, replaced by clothing that was too big for her. It was even a tender sight. But it wasn't the only thing that had changed.

That horrible scar on her eye was tremendously reduced until it was almost imperceptible. She apparently begged base doctors to remove it. You couldn't blame her for that, but honestly, you didn't care about that scar at all.

You threw yourself into her arms, covering her with kisses all over, letting her do the same as she told you how scared she had been, how much she had missed you. There was still one trip to make, and it was the most important one: the travel to New York, where you lived, where she would live with you.

“And... Here we are...” You said, extending your arms as you opened the door to your small apartment. “I know, I know, it's not a big deal but... Well, it's something.”

Donna walked in quickly. The poor thing was very scared by the city. All of this was new to her, perhaps too overwhelming.

“You live here?” She asked curiously, fascinated by all those new things, still with a hoarse voice and an involuntary tremor in her hands.

“Yes, well, I try to,” you joked, taking her hand. “Donna, I have something for you,” you whispered in a funny voice, to which she smiled tenderly.

“A surprise?” She asked excitedly, with that innocent look. You nodded, biting your lip and kissing her quickly before walking towards your room.

Searching your backpack, you found the desired object, looking at it suspiciously, and you headed back to the small room, where the former Lord wandered studying all those strange things.

“Look what I have, does it sound familiar to you?” You said, extending your hands that grabbed the old puppet, Angie, that you rescued that night, at the last moment. You knew how important it was to her.

“Gods... Angie...” Donna said, with tears in her eye, running towards the puppet and hugging it in her arms, crying with happiness. “Angie…”

“I saved it just before we left. You don't know what it has cost me to hide it from them,” you joked, putting a hand on her shoulder, making her look at you with deep gratitude before putting a hand on Angie's porcelain face.

“What happened? Who turned off the light? Where I am?” The squeaky voice of the doll made you squint. Well, you assumed that would happen, Angie would come back to life.

“Angie, (Y/N) saved us, we're in New York,” Donna explained. “We are going to live with her, outside the village.”

“New York?” The puppet asked, jumping from the arms of its owner and running towards the window. “Ohh…. Look Donna, look how many cars... And how strange they are...”

The lady approached with the doll, looking out the window. You stayed leaning on a beam, watching her reaction and sighing in relief. Everything would be much easier for Donna if she was next to her doll and, above all, by your side.

But a frightened gasp brought you out of your thoughts. Donna's face suddenly changed to a scared one, turning away from the window, as if she didn't want to see it. You approached, hugging her waist and resting your head on her shoulder.

“What's wrong, honey?” You asked softly, placing your lips on her neck. She grabbed your hands, holding you close to her, not wanting you to be separated from her.

“It's just... All of this... I'm, I'm scared, (Y/N). I never left the village and... There are, there are so many things that I don't know...” She sighed, breathing hard, making you alert.

“Don't worry, that's what I'm here for,” you said softly, turning her around so you could kiss her on the lips, making her sigh. “I'll help you, okay?”

She nodded with a shy smile, letting herself be guided to your small couch, sitting down and watching the TV curiously.

“That's the TV, I guess you've seen some before, right?” You asked, turning it on with the remote, which caused Donna to look at the screen, surprised.

“Yes, but... Not so... Bright...” Donna said, without looking away from that strange screen.

“There is a channel about cooking, I'm sure you'll like it. I assume you still like to cook, right?” You said amused, dialing the number with the remote.

“Of course,” she said, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “I loved cooking for you...” She whispered, afraid that your days of captivity had been torture for you. They weren't, at all.

“I'll let you do it whenever you want,” you joked again, nudging her. Just as you intended, she laughed too. You had been waiting to hear that laugh for so long... “But not today, honey, today the bar on the corner is cooking.”

“I can cook,” she said, without stopping to look at Mrs. Moira's recipes. She seemed quite entertained, which made you find the strength to leave her alone.

“No, you should rest and adapt. Don't worry, I'll be right back,” you said putting on a jacket. She looked at you scared, leaning on the couch.

“Wait, no, don't leave me alone, please...” Donna begged with a sad voice, comically peeking out from the sofa.

“Don't worry, Donna, nowadays no one is alone... Which reminds me of...” You said running back to your room to get another important thing.

“What's that?” The brunette asked, curious about what you were carrying in your hand.

You smiled, sitting down next to her again and handing her the curious object.

“This is a telephone, a mobile phone. Take it, it's for you,” you said while she looked at it with a curiosity that made you have to hold back your laughter.

“A phone? But, but it doesn't have cables,” Donna said confused, looking at the phone carefully.

“No, it doesn't have cables, but you can call with it, and do many more things, look...” You said, pressing the button that turned it on, making her curiosity increase.

“It's, it's like a television... A smaller one, of course,” she said, amused.

“Well, at this rate it will be someday,” you said, laughing, helping her handle. “Look, if you tap here, you go to contacts and… There's my number, just tap here and you can talk to me.”

“Wow... So I can talk to you whenever I want, wherever I want...” Donna sighed, tapping on the screen to corroborate your words.

“You see? A certain Donna is calling me, do you know who she could be?” You said, showing your own phone.

Donna nodded, amused but curious, looking at the back of the phone.

“What is this?”

“Oh, that's the camera, you can take pictures of whatever you want with it,” you explained, to which she nodded, scratching her head. Maybe it was too much information.

“ You mean photographs? With this?” She asked confused, frowning. You nodded, taking the phone from her hand and pointing the camera at you.

“I'll show you,” you said, smiling and getting closer to her. “Come on, smile Donna.”

She obeyed while you took the photo, but not before giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“It's us...” She said with a smile. She was really fascinated.

“You see? Should I put it as your wallpaper? The truth is that the photo is very nice, don't you think?” You asked, fiddling with the phone.

“Wallpaper?” She asked confused, to which you went pale. Little by little, (Y/N)

“Umm, well, it's so whenever you turn it on you can see this photo, would you like that?” You asked shyly, touching the settings.

“Yes, yes,” she said, nodding excitedly. “I would like to see you anytime, (Y/N)”

You smiled tenderly, handing her back the phone, God, you were madly in love with her.

“You are very sweet, you know that?” You whispered, kissing her lips as a thank you for her words, perhaps letting yourself go a bit.

“Hey, hey, Donna, take a photo of me, please, please,” Angie hummed, climbing into her lap and interrupting that romantic moment,

“Well, I think I'll go get the food,” you said, rolling your eyes, while Angie had fun with the phone.

You never thought it would end like this, under those circumstances. It was going to be difficult. Donna had a lot of things to learn, and for that she needed you, almost as much as you needed to see that smile every day.

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 4 months

Note

I would love something for Heisy (shocker, I know)! Maybe a patching-up fic of some sort; Gn!reader gets hurt from a soldat, lycan, or even a run-in with Miranda. Heisenberg wants to berate them for being so stupid as to get themselves hurt or risk getting killed, but he can't because he's just so damn worried. Bonus points if he goes/makes a point to destroy whatever hurt reader. Protective Heisenberg, my beloved ❤️

BARK BARK BARK ARF ARF WOOF

Feed The Machine

Karl Heisenberg x gn!Reader

Half-lidded, granite eyes narrowed down on a nasty gash stretching all across your upper arm, Karl brooded into the scruff of his beard and scrunched his nose in disapproval, the silvery metal of his glasses dropping down just enough to reveal the flickers of anger sparkling in his fixed gaze. Of course, he was angry. Angry at you most likely, proper mad with you for being stupid and fucking things up in a place a fuck up could easily cost you your life.

“Are you gonna say something or just stare, Karl?” You tried to joke, his disappointment so thick in the air that it roped around your throat like an invisible noose.

To your dismay, the Lord just huffed a deep grunt, eyes looking right through you as his calloused fingers made to pull slashed fabric from the cut.

“Ow!”, You flinched, but only briefly, not wanting to be any more of a stupid baby than you already were right now, “Don’t you wanna hear how that happened?”

“You gonna tell me regardless of me asking.” He eventually stated deadpan and harsh albeit right.

“Right…well…” Karl’s rough words pulled at you, letting you know that you’d gotten yourself into a real pickle here.

“Oh, c'mon now, kiddo. What happened?” He suddenly groaned out, not being able to hold that facade of strict anger for it was only fueled by his sincere worry about you.

Karl worried about you each and every day you went out into the factory on your own, not because he thought you to be incompetent or anything like that, no, he worried because he cared for you, knowing that the shadows and hangars alike held many dangers. One of them apparently has gotten to you eventually.

“A puddle. A stupid puddle had me stumbling down by the workshop, practically falling into a Soldat. Fucking thing wasn’t even on. No, did that all by myself.” You ought the self-deprecation to help, to be a somewhat funny ice breaker but Karl's eyes rendered hard again immediately.

“Stop that. Now.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, his mood swinging harder than his hammer lately.

“What have I told you? Feed the machine-.”, He expected you to continue and so you did, “Not be the food, yeah, yeah, I know. Hey! Huh? Where ‘r you going now?”

Karl got up and stretched, joints cracking dangerously.

“Gotta go dismember a motherfucker.”

#build-a-blurb #karl heisenberg #resident evil village #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg fanfic

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thewritetofreespeech · 1 year

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Could I request the obey me brothers with an s/o who works as a bunny girl at a bar?

Obey me Brothers + Bunny Girl s/o

Lucifer

Lucifer didn’t like being here.

He made an effort every year to do the bunny-butler event; at first to help his community, but then with Lord Diavolo asked. However, he never really liked it.

The only thing he did like about it was meeting [Y/N]. They were bright, helpful, and clearly too classy to be in a posh, but over sexualized, place like this.

“What can I get you gentleman?”

“Ah! [Y/N]!” Lord Diavolo cheered happily when they came over to greet their table. It was the only reason he would be in here ‘out of season’. He hated seeing them at work. “You look so cute!”

“Thank you Lord Diavolo.” [Y/N] replied with their coquettish smile as they took his drink order. “And for you sir?”

“Just water.” Lucifer replied in a gruff tone. To which [Y/N] just kept smiling and went to get their drinks. “I’ll be back.”

He caught [Y/N] just as they were coming back out of the service bar and got their attention. “Why do you insist on continuing to work here?”

“Because it’s my job?”

“You know what I mean. You could work anywhere. Or, nowhere. You know I would take care of you.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be a kept woman.” Lucifer sighed. He knew that. “Besides, it’s not so bad. I make a lot of tips. I met a lot of interesting people. It’s pretty interesting, and there are worse jobs.”

“There are jobs with more clothes.” [Y/N] chuckled.

“I have to get my tables taken care of, but I’ll be back by and we can sit together on my break.” She snuck in and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before anyone saw. Lest someone see and think that was a bunny service anyone could get. “Now, I have to work and you need to get back to your table. No loitering on the floor when bunnies are at work.”

“I know, I know…�� He remembered that from his training and went back to his table. Not happy, but also not willing to argue.

Mammon

Mammon grumbled in his VIP seat. Shoulders tucked into the soft purple leather, with his arms crossed, as he stared across the room in anger.

He used to love coming here. The lights. The people. The vibe. It was one of the reasons he pushed for his brothers to help out when they were in trouble. That and his crippling tab debt he couldn’t pay off. But now it wasn’t the same.

“Is everything alright Mr. Mammon?” A cute, and sweet, bunny waitress asked when they came over to check on him as he hadn’t touched his drink.

“I want a different bunny.”

She seemed shocked. “Oh. Is there something I did? Am I not meeting your service expectations?”

“No. I want that one.” He pointed across the room at [Y/N] who was giggling with another table.

“I’m sorry sir. [Y/N]-bun is busy with that other group of customers. If you’d like I could.”

“No I want that one!” He insisted again, sitting upright. “Isn’t VIP supposed to mean I get whatever I want? I want that bunny. Send her over!”

The poor girl seemed taken aback and shuffled off. Heading over to [Y/N] and whispering in her ear, before she looked over at him. She didn’t seem happy, which made him gulp, but then pulled on a smile before she waved to her guests and came over. “Being in VIP means you get whatever you want?”

“Isn’t that what it’s supposed to mean….” He pouted and crossed his arms as, he could tell, he was not going to get what he wanted.

“No. It doesn’t. It means you get special treatment. Which in your case special treatment you don’t pay for as the owner is eternally grateful.” Ooo, that one stung a little bit as she reminded him of his cash flow problems. “But it doesn’t mean you get to berate my co-workers or act like an ass. Miranda is practically crying in the bathroom.”

“It’s not my fault those dumb dumbs didn’t sit me in your section like I asked!”

“It’s a big club Mammon. They can’t accommodate everyone’s request, even if we are dating. My section is pretty busy and you would be waiting for hours.”

“I would have waited for you!”

The demon huffed and slumped back into his seat. Morosely drinking his carrot juice cocktail. [Y/N] sighed.

“I know you’re the Avatar of Greed honey, but you can’t always get what you want.” He grumbled into his drink. “If you can be patient and nice to the other servers, I’ll come over after this table is done and we can hangout while the girls do their jobs. VIP entitles you to 2 bunnies.”

“Really?”

“Don’t get any ideas.” He clicked his teeth. “Now, I’m gonna have Miranda come back over here; if she’s even willing. You will apologize, and leave her a big tip. Understood?” He nodded. “Good. And, try to be happy Mammon. You’re bringing down the whole vibe with that pout.” He flinched a little when [Y/N] cutely tapped his nose, but still blushed. He supposed he could be patient.

Levi

“Let me see! Let me see!”

“Levi! Calm down! I can only get this thing on so fast!” [Y/N] whined from inside their walk-in closet as they tried to put their new outfit on.

The club was doing a promotional Fantasy Follies night. Where in, aside from just dressing up like bunnies, the girls would be themed to look like other bunny themed characters the fantasy genre. You know, bunny princess, bunny queen, bunny fairy.

As the most popular bunny on call at the moment, [Y/N] had the honor of dressing up like bunny Alice from Alice in Wonderland. One of the more notable, and elaborate, costumes done up for the event.

“You know you could just come down to the club and see it. I’m not really supposed to be wearing this until the event.”

“I hate people.” Levi answered. As if they needed reminding. “Besides, I won’t post any spoilers. I wouldn’t do that. But I need to see it before anyone else does. So please, please, please hurry up!”

“Ok, ok!” [Y/N] stepped out in a huff. Their hand on their hip just about the brocade skirt. “Satisfied!?”

Levi just sat on his beanbag chair in complete silence. To the point that [Y/N] thought he hated it and maybe it was all wrong. “KAWAII!!”

He jumped up and started taking pictures. “You look so cute! What is this skirt made out of?! Look at the stitching! It’s so intricate!”

“Don’t touch it or you’ll smudge.” [Y/N] told him. Giggling a little now that their panic was over.

“Sorry! Sorry! I’ll be good.” Levi said as he took one last picture. “I wish I could be there….”

“You know you could be?” There was always an open spot for Levi at one of her tables.

“No. I’d rather stay here.” Which was no surprise.

He sunk back into his beanbag chair and was already scrolling through is pictures. [Y/N] chuckled. “I’ll bring you back some carrot cake.” She told him, before kissing the top of his head and leaving for work. He seemed to busy with his pictures to notice but was happy with the cake when she got home.

Satan

*he chose to stay home and read a book*

Asmo

It was a typical night at the club for [Y/N]’s shift. The customers were consistent and happy. Everyone was working together to make sure things were covered. The floor show was doing well. Everything was on track for the night.

Suddenly, [Y/N] heard some loud shouting & cat calls behind her and she turned around. Cat calls weren’t uncommon in a bunny bar, but the ruckus was a bit more flamboyant than usual. Curious, [Y/N] sat her customer’s drinks down and went over to investigate the large group that had gathered around the dance floor.

“Asmo!”

The demon of lust turned around and beamed with a wave. “Hi [Y/N]~!”

“What are you doing?!” She asked as she pushed through the throng closer to him.

“I came to see you at your job. And, have a little fun.” He wiggled his butt like a little cottontail to thunderous applause.

[Y/N] grit her teeth. “We talked about this. You can’t wear our uniform in here.”

“No. Technically you said I couldn’t wear the men’s uniform in here.” He corrected. “This is the girls uniform. Look! We match!”

[Y/N] grabbed Asmo’s hand and dragged him off to the back; his fan’s complaining behind him. “Asmo, this is my job. This isn’t a game. This is where I come to make money and I need to be professional. I can’t do that when you come in here like it’s some big joke and cause a scene like this. You’re going to get me fired.”

Asmo’s beautiful face fell. “Oh…I didn’t think about that….” It was clear in his expression that he hadn’t. Only focused on himself and his good time, spending it with [Y/N]. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause problems. I’m sure it’s hard for the girls to have someone as beautiful as me steal the spotlight. Not you, obviously. But some of them.” She chose to ignore that. “I’ll go home and change, and come back as a regular customer. Would that help?”

“I think it would be best if you just went home for the night, and came back tomorrow.”

Asmo moaned in disappointment but didn’t fight. He was pretty good at taking his lumps when he got them. “Do you think my outfit is cute by the way?” He asked quickly before he left.

[Y/N] sighed, but with a smile. “Yes. It’s very cute.”

“I knew it!” He beamed, before trotting off in his high heels back home.

Beel & Belphie

[Y/N] loved working at the bar. In her opinion it was the best place to work in all of the Devildom.

The owner and management prided itself on having the best drinks, the best bunnies, and the best customers. People at the club were usually very civilized, polite, and courteous. But, every now & then, someone would slip through the cracks in the system. Fine, at first, until they got a few drinks in them.

“Come over here baby! Come sit on my lap!”

“That’s not really a bunny service we’re offering at the moment.” [Y/N] replied, through smiled, gritted teeth, as they tried to clean the booth of all the bottles & glasses in the area. He didn’t know it yet, but he was cut off. They were all just trying to run out the clock, instead of cause a scene by asking him to leave. “Can I get you anything else? Some water before you tab out?”

“Bullshit! Bring me another one of those carrot things.”

“Unfortunately, sir, the bar is closing.” She replied. “Would you like me to get you that water & your check now?”

“Yeah I guess…” Oh thank God. “What are you doing after work?” Oh jeez…..

“Going home to soak my feet.” She replied. ‘Gross’ stuff, like breaking character, usually got them out of their fantasy and moved on.

Not the case with this one. “Home hn? Well, I’ll join you.” The customer stood up. Through great effort and force of will to stay upright. “Where are we going?”

“I’m going to call you a cab.” [Y/N] replied. Starting to feel like this was going to be an issue. “You can go wherever you would like.”

“Hey! I paid for you!” The man drunkenly reached out and grabbed her arm. Causing her tray and the glasses to fall. “I gave you a lot of money and you didn’t give me the service I want! So either pay-up, or I’m calling your boss! I know the owner!”

“Let go of me!” [Y/N] shouted. Trying to pull away from the customer, but it was hard with their drunk strength. He kept jerking at her until [Y/N] eventually lost her footing and fell back on the couch. The man towering over her.

But not for long.

Suddenly the man, with a horrible grin and glint in his eye, was lifted off his feet and into the air. He let go of [Y/N] and started flailing. Only to look over his shoulder and have his blood run cold as he locked eyes with orange burning flames. “You need to leave.”

Beel, who was usually very friendly and gentle, sounded very serious as he held the man up with one hand. He kept him there for a minute, prone, like when you held a cat by the scruff, before he dropped him. Scared and drunk, the man fell completely to the ground before he picked himself up and started yelling again. “Who do you think you are?!”

“Your worst nightmare.” Belphie slide out from behind his larger twin like an ominous shadow. “You should listen to my brother.” He then added, as it looked like the man was going to argue again. “He’s a much nicer person than I am. He’s giving you a chance. If it were up to me you wouldn’t have that disgusting hand that touched our [Y/N]. And you certainly wouldn’t have any of your other inferior parts to do what your repellent gnat size brain was just thinking about doing with her.”

Though Belphie was smaller, the man seemed to get the gist of the threat and ran away. Sprinting for the door as he likely pissed his pants. “What are you guys doing here?”

“We came to walk you home.” Beel answered as he offered his hand, the one holding your attacker aloft a moment ago, out to gently help you from your seat.

“You should have kicked that guy in the balls.” Belphie told you. Dabbing one of the cloth napkins in some water to literally clean the area where the man had touched you.

“It’s frowned upon to attack the customers.”

“You should have stabbed him.” He muttered. Seeming to ignore the fact that that was a clean escalation from the original threat of ball kicking.

The manager came up to see what was the matter after it was all done, and you explained what happened. The customer was banned. You never saw him again.

You hope that it was just because of the ban, but you could never be sure. Belphie didn’t seem to want to comment on it further when asked, and Beel just always shoved whatever food he had in his mouth to avoid talking.

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changingplumbob · 3 days

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Some days Glenn would go to the magic realm. He hadn't been much when he was growing up and was always flummoxed by the doors. Doors that should lead nowhere actually moving you? Weird. He wasn't the only member of the coven to enjoy some time there though.

The main building had been magically fortified. It was one of the few places Jackson and Coleman could test the limits of their magic without risking detection or uncontrolled destruction. Sometimes Glenn would watch them practice. Jackson doing his best to set everything aflame while Coleman worked on starving each flame of oxygen, fascinating and usually got the attraction of other young spellcasters. Koko had an astronomy group she would meet with while Ophelia searched for valerian root for Glenn to grow.

Vendor: Hello, how may I help you today?

Glenn: Woah, I forgot they had ghosts here

Vendor: Not ghost sir. I am an astral projection

Glenn: A what now

Vendor: I'm not really here, just my spirit. Actual me is sleeping in my cottage right now

Glenn: In a cottage? That sounds like the life

Jackson: Stop holding up the line certified loser, some of us actually want to buy stuff

Glenn: I want to buy stuff

Jackson: Sure you do. Excuse me sir, do you have any bone wands in stock yet

Vendor: Not today. They are hard to make

Glenn: Jackson I thought you had a wand

Jackson: I do but I'm trying to collect some. They have different vibes, inspiring you know. Gets the creativity going

Glenn: I always forget you write poetry. How'd someone like you even get in to that

Jackson: Who's being rude now? Words are like flames to me, they just make sense. And I do have a talent for pushing buttons

Glenn: No kidding. So you're collecting? Plan on getting shoes like Carmine?

Jackson: Ruby slippers? Nah. There's only one pair of them in existence. And I'm plenty tall already, no heels required. You coming? Some of the others were talking about dueling. Coleman and I were going to take some wagers from the apprentices that don't know better

Glenn: I'll be along. I need to see what seeds they've got

Koko: Don't be trying to hit me with any water spouts

Marisol: And don't be trying to blind me with light

Koko: Deal. You ready?

Marisol: Ready

By the time Glenn got there they were near the end. Koko won which wasn't a large surprise, she was far more curious with her magic study and Marisol was still adjusting to the move. Jackson and Coleman collected their winnings from disappointed apprentices and the group headed home together.

Time passed and Glenn got better. He got to the point where Grayson wasn't the first thing he thought about in the mornings. He changed his lockscreen, and got back in to a routine. Some nights he would go over to Henri's or Miranda's and watch a film. Miranda had the best set up in her room, but Henri had the best snacks. The twins did tease him for his celebrity crush on Devin York but a man could dream.

Cooking comforted him, not as much as gardening but close. Glenn loved food and felt a freedom when playing chef. He slowly started to dream of what his future might look like, or who would be in it. It wouldn't be Grayson, but he thought about what he'd like in a partner. Someone to share life with, someone who wouldn't mind him cleaning dirt from under his nails every time he came back in the house. Someone who liked abs, and told him he looked nice.

Humans were nice but humans were... tricky. They didn't understand what the occults had been through. But maybe that could be good? Once he finished his breakfast he always took a tray up to his grandfather who liked to read in bed in the mornings, and got on to the rest of his routine.

Each day his affirmations became easier to say. With time he got back to believing he was a catch, he just had to find someone who was fishing... and didn't have anything against the colour green. He flowed through his exercise routine most mornings. Push ups and sit ups until he hurt, but a good hurt. Then if it was sunny he'd go for a run, if it was raining he stayed inside and did a dance workout.

Little did he know someone had no choice but to stay in the rain.

Reminder that Glenn and Silver are moving to my weekends rather than every second day, but they meet in the next part I promise!

Previous ... Next

#sims 4 #the sims #simblr #my sims #ts4 #active simblr #GWG #GlennSutherland #ColemanDavis #KokoHallet #OpheliaRamon #JacksonDavis #MarisolMichaels #SilverClawcrestByCawthornTales

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annymation · 8 months

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The voices in my Wish Rewrite

I haven’t talked much about it, but in my Wish rewrite some characters would be recasted. I wanted to make this post just to show which actors I’d replace… And it’s pretty much everyone except Magnifico, cause ya know, Chris Pine is Magnifico, and Magnifico is Chris Pine, it’s just how it is.

So let’s get this started!

Asha- Denée Benton

Im absolutely OBSESSED with this woman’s voice, she sounds like an angel and carries so much personality in her performance, she sounds pure, youthful, hopeful but also strong, everything I imagine Asha as. THIS is what I imagine the 100th anniversary Disney princess sounding like. Not that I didn’t like Ariana DeBose’s singing tho, but I just love Denee Benton more, and hey, it’s my rewrite, so I get to imagine Asha’s voice how I please. Also I can totally see Asha and Aster singing this song.

Aster- Jordan Fisher

Oooooh this man, I love him so much. His voice has the perfect energy for Aster, sounding youthful and melodic like a prince, it had to be a literally other worldly voice, and I think Jordan’s voice is PRETTY DANG other worldly, like, this example I found on Spotify doesn’t even do him justice, go listen to his other singing chops on YouTube.

If you look up Jordan Fisher you’ll see the guy is DEEPLY connected with Disney in his career, from singing the song “Happily Ever After” 6 years ago, which is the theme song for the Magic Kingdom, to now being the main singer of 4-town in the movie Turning Red. And of course this one time he made a cover of “You’re Welcome”, the guy just lives and breaths Disney so WHY NOT have him as a wishing star? It just makes sense. But besides working with Disney he also has experience in a musicals such as Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Sweeney Todd and more recently he became the new Orpheus in Hadestown… And by god I need a good quality audio of him singing “Wait For Me” more than I need air because that song fits Aster’s character SO WELL.

Magnifico- Chris Pine

Yeah no surprises here, you can’t have Magnifico without Chris Pine… But HIS SINGING VOICE IN THIS SONG THOUGH??? ITS SO GOOD!!! I listened to “Any Moment” ONCE and now I constantly go back to listen to it over and over and imagine young Magnus and Amaya meeting in the woods. I still haven’t posted about Amaya’s backstory BECAUSE IM TOO LAZY TO FINISH THE DRAFT I HAVE EXPLAINING IT- But let me just say her hesitating to start a relationship with him is VERY accurate to her character. And Magnus being like “May I kiss you” out of nowhere because he: 1- Sees himself as irresistible so he thinks she’d fall for him with just that and 2- he had 0 social skills before he met Amaya.

And then there’s the line “Life is often so unpleasant, you must know that as a peasant” ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! This is LITERALLY something my Magnifico would say, I’m so freakin lucky!

My point is, my rewrite’s Magnifico sounds like THIS when he sings, with a deep, smooth and honeyed voice that makes you want to trust him… Take that high pitched voice Chris Pine did in “This Is The Thanks I Get” and throw it out the window. Disney wasted the man’s talent. I’m so mad.

Amaya- Emily Blunt

Do you guys see my vision? Do I even have to say anything? Like really, go watch a scene of the Mary Poppins remake, any scene with her at all, that woman has a voice that DEMANDS respect, while also being motherly, it’s practically perfect in every way. I’m using “Open Up Your Eyes” here as an example though because… Well, it fits her backstory… Ya know, the backstory I’m stalling to talk about 👉👈… But it also just simply fits her personality in general!

And no disrespect for her voice in the movie, Angelique Cabral… BUT ITS EMILY BLUNT AS AN EVIL QUEEN!!! Come ooooon! It’s just meant to be!!!

Also side note, since we’re talking about Queen Amable, THIS design that came from an deleted scene is how I’ve imagined her the whole time:

Like, I could not STAND her hairstyle in the movie, it simply didn’t fit my vision for her character, see, Amaya is sophisticated but she’s also… Practical and likes to feel comfortable, hence why in my rewrite her dress has no sleeves, she values her own comfort more than conforming to the social norms… AND THAT HAIR LOOKING LIKE HEADPHONES WITH THAT CROWN THAT MADE HER FOREHEAD LOOK LIKE A SQUARE DROVE ME NUTS!

So yeah, this is our Queen Amable, voiced by Emily Blunt, with a British accent, in all her glory, we’re moving on.

Valentino- Gregory Mann

This is just a bonus mention, since Valentino doesn’t even sing in my rewrite, he just speaks in like 3 scenes… And you guys have only seen one of them so far. But either way, let it be known he sounds like Gregory Mann, because Gregory Mann sounds adorable. That is all.

Thank You For Reading!

#Spotify #disney wish #wish rewrite #wish #wish 2023 #wish star #wish disney #disney #wish movie #wish reimagined #wish asha #kingdom of wishes

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ladykailitha · 10 months

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Royal Pain Part 26

Hello, and we have got to the end of the massive arc that culminated the last four chapters.

I also wrote this part before 24 and 25 because I couldn't figure out how to write Eddie having a hard time on tour, but the aftermath flowed from my fingers.

Also as a reminder this story is finished, I'm just posting on a regular schedule. This story is the longest fanfic I've ever written. Topping out at 58165 it's definitely longer than 50K fic I wrote for NaNoWriMo last year (Sandman, never finished or published.)

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10 Pt 11 Pt 12 Pt 13 Pt 14 Pt 15 Pt 16 Pt 17 Pt 18 Pt 19 Pt 20 Pt 21 Meta Pt 22 Pt 23 Pt 24 Pt 25

****

“You’ve been sitting on that sofa for an entire week,” Wayne growled. “Steve has called three times, your bandmates at least a dozen times each. Hell, boy Miranda has been calling concerned. So want to tell me what’s fucking got you so twisted?”

“I was given a choice out there on the road,” Eddie said, twisting his rings around his fingers. “Stay in Indy and play small time gigs for the rest of my adult life or go to LA and get an album and the chance at super stardom.”

Wayne sat down next him. “Sounds like a big decision to make.”

Eddie leapt to his feet. “That’s the problem. That’s what makes me so angry how fucking easy the choice is.”

Wayne cocked his head to the side. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot on your plate again, boy. Start talking.”

Eddie started pacing back and forth. “As much as I loved playing for so many people, I didn’t like that I could only connect with a handful of them and not even the good kind.” He rubbed his chin angrily. “I didn’t like how tired we all were. It was set up, sound check, play, break down and move on to the next fucking town. And that wasn’t including all the parties, interviews, and all that other shit.”

“That does sound exhausting, Ed.”

“I didn’t like how easy it was for them to tell me to drop Gareth as drummer just because he had trouble adjusting to the increased volume. The price of fame they said. Like it was so simple to throw away almost two decades of friendship for the sake of adoring crowds and hearing our music on the radio.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Wayne said softly. “They didn’t...”

“Oh they absolutely did,” Eddie raged. “I didn’t like how they thought that because me and Steve’s relationship was new that I would be able to find someone better. Someone who liked metal, someone who would be down for the ride.”

Wayne furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t sound like good advice.”

Eddie grabbed his hair pulled at it frustration. “The last straw was when they offered to let their tattooist to finish my back tattoo, because while my artist was good, theirs was better.”

He stopped abruptly and turned to face Wayne. “I picked Steve to do my tattoo on my back because he was the only one I trusted to make it meaningful. To understand the symbolism of making something of yourself when everyone is rooting against you. I made the decision before I fell in love with him and now that we’re a couple– and for them to just dismiss him like that? It made me so angry.”

“So what’s the problem? What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”

Eddie took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I’m fucking furious because I always thought that when fame and fortune came knocking I would throw open that door and march right through it. But now? Given the choice? I’m slamming the door in its face and walking away.”

Hot tears ran down his face. “And I don’t know why.”

He dropped to his knees and began to sob.

Wayne stood up and put his arms around his nephew’s shoulders, gently pulling him to his chest.

“Did that band you were traveling with say that?” he whispered into Eddie’s curls. “Because if they did, I swear to god I will burn every record and CD you have of theirs. Don’t think I won’t. I’ll delete them off your phone too.”

Eddie chuckled weakly. “No, no. They were kind. It was everyone else we met. Agents, managers, roadies, groupies, the people around Metallica every day.”

Wayne nodded.

“I was just constantly bombarded with hateful messages and the constant running at one hundred percent...” he whimpered. “I don’t want to do it.”

“Have you told your band that?” Wayne asked.

Eddie shook his head. “I don’t dare to. I was the one that was gung ho about the touring and everything. How do I tell them I don’t want to leave the comfort of Indianapolis and home?”

“Kinda like that,” Jeff said from the doorway. His arms were crossed and he was leaning against the frame. Peaking around him was Miranda with a concerned look on her face.

Eddie scrambled to his feet and wrapped his arms around his waist. “I’m sorry I’ve been a brat.”

Jeff took three giant steps forward and hugged him fiercely. “You’re not being a brat. You’re scared and trying to figure it all out on your own, but you don’t have to, okay? We’ve all been worried sick about you. But Steve especially. I’ll call all the boys down for a chat and you call Steve, okay?”

Eddie nodded.

He dialed the number he knew by heart.

“Baby?” he asked, unsure of the reaction he was going to get. He deserved to be yelled at. Cursed at. Broken up with. He’d hurt Steve the most with this little temper tantrum he’d been having.

“Eds?” Steve breathed. “Sunshine, are you okay? Wayne said you hadn’t been eating well or sleeping much. Say the word and I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

Eddie’s lip began to quiver and tears spilled out of his eyes. “I need you. More than anything.”

“I’m on my way,” Steve said fiercely.

Eddie looked over at Jeff.

“Tell Steve Brian will swing by and pick him up.”

Eddie nodded and relayed the message back to Steve.

“I’ll be at my apartment,” Steve said. “I’ll have Robin arrange my schedule, don’t you worry about thing, baby.”

“Mm’k.”

“I love you, Eds.”

Eddie closed his eyes and breathed in the warmth of that simple phrase. “Love you, too, pretty boy. Come quick.”

“I promise.”

Steve piled into Brian’s car. It was the newest, having bought it right before they got picked up by Metallica. He had finally saved up enough money to replace his beater.

Gareth and Gethin in the backseat. Gethin had come up to Indy to watch his twin’s apartment while he was gone and just ended up staying. He was currently looking for a job so that he could move in with Gareth full time.

At least that what they said on the trip down. The twins and Brian were intent on filling the air with talk and Steve let them. He let them fill him in on the tour and everything that had been going on since they’d left.

Steve couldn’t be for certain, but it sounded like that touring hadn’t been fun for anyone. Even after a week of rest, he could still make out the circles under their eyes and how hunched over they were with just sheer exhaustion.

A feeling Steve felt all too well.

Gethin was pressed against his twin’s side and was rubbing his neck soothingly.

Steve looked at Brian.

His face was set, hard and unflinching. He was going to make the drive to Hawkins as fast as he could and still avoid the cops.

Steve was grateful Brian was driving because he didn’t think he would have made the distinction to avoid breaking the law. He would have gunned it and flipped off any cop that tried to catch him.

After awhile, Steve was getting the oddest feeling that Brian was used to speeding down this stretch of highway because there were points where he would slow down for a few miles and then speed right back up.

Soon enough they were pulling up to Wayne’s trailer and piling out the car.

Eddie sat on the sofa with Jeff and Miranda on either side of him, just hugging him.

Wayne was busying himself in the kitchen, getting ready to feed the hoard that was about to descend on his home.

The door opened up and Brian, Gareth, and Gethin all stumbled through the entryway. Eddie was on his feet in an instant, Jeff and Miranda not far behind.

And then the trio at the door parted and there stood Steve. Looking just as tired and worn as Eddie felt.

“Stevie?” Eddie asked, taking a step toward him uncertainly.

Steve threw open his arms and Eddie ran straight into them. They wrapped their arms around each other and just sobbed.

“I’m here, Eds,” Steve murmured into Eddie’s neck. “I’m here. I love you so much.”

Eddie lifted his head and kissed him hard. “I love you, too. I regret leaving you behind, sweetheart. It nearly killed me. Every song I wrote was about you. About missing you. I don’t even want to leave you ever again, I can’t.”

The silence that followed that statement was deafening.

Steve led Eddie back over to couch and sat them both down. “Tell us everything, babe.”

And so Eddie did. He told them everything. Everything he had told Wayne, everything that had been weighing on his mind since they started touring. It all just came out in a flood.

They all listened patiently.

“Why didn’t you tell us you felt like that while we were on the road?” Gareth asked. “I knew what they were saying about me, but I also knew you guys wouldn’t drop me. If you had me about that I would have been able to reassure you that I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Eddie flushed with embarrassment. “I didn’t know how to bring it up, it was so vile, man.”

Jeff gave his hand a squeeze. “Well, I think that you did a bang up job telling us now and that’s what really matters.”

“Someone offered to ship me out to LA and record an album,” Eddie finally admitted. “Not the band, just me. I told him that I wouldn’t go without you guys and he laughed in my face. Told me to cut the dead weight and be a star.” He dragged his hands over his face.

“But there were other offers. Good ones. Ones that included the band, well most of it, anyway. Always under the proviso that Gareth be replaced either on tour or all together. They didn’t want to make any accommodations for him even though there is a drummer with one god damn arm!”

“So the options are,” Brian said, “stay in Indy doing what we’ve been doing, only better because of the money we got for doing this tour. Go to LA without Gareth. Go to LA with Gareth but only as a studio musician and take some person we don’t know on tour with us. Does that sound about right?”

Just then Gareth’s phone went off. He looked at it with a frown. It wasn’t a number recognized so he let it go to voicemail. He pulled it up after the notification popped up.

He listened to message with wide eyes. “Hey guys, I think we have another option.” And he played the message so everyone could hear.

“Hey, Mr Hughes,” the tinny voice said through the speaker. “This is Murray Bauman, I’m music producer, we spoke in Las Vegas. I think I have the perfect deal for you boys. You were telling me that touring was really hard on you and that if there was an option you wouldn’t do that. I know you weren’t speaking for all your band, but I could tell that they would do anything for you, all four of you being such good friends.

“So the reason for this call is that I own a small music company in Bloomington and boy do I have a deal for you all. You would make a record through us, we would sell and distribute the record, keeping a portion of the sales, of course. But you wouldn’t have to tour. You have a steady gig as I understand it. If your fans want to see you play, they’ll know where to find you.

“But give me a call, we’ll hash out the details. My phone number is 555-555-2080...” and then message beeped, signaling the end of the voicemail.

Eddie looked down at the phone and then back up at Gareth. “Oh.”

Gareth grinned. “We don’t even have to take his offer, but I vote we listen to it. Brian can bring Cecil.”

Brian nodded. “He’s only got a semester left of law school, but I’ll have him brush up on his contract law to be on the safe side.”

Jeff raised his hand. “All in favor of hearing Mr Bauman out raise your hand?”

Eddie, Brian, and Gareth’s hands shot up.

“Sounds good,” Jeff said. “You call him back and set it up and if it doesn’t work out we can vote again.”

Brian shook his head. “Nah. I think if it doesn’t work, we stick to Nightmare Holes. We took a swing at it and if it’s a miss then we tried. I thought I wanted the touring and everything that came with stardom, but like Eddie I learned I wanted the romanticized version of it. I’ll be happy playing in front of our friends for the rest of our lives.”

The rest of the band nodded.

Soon everyone getting up to go back to Indy, but Steve stayed behind, he would go back up with Eddie in the morning. They had things to discuss that went deeper then the band.

****

Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

I told you I would fix it.

Also a little BTS, the reason in my head for why things went wrong on tour but immediately righted itself when Eddie and Steve met up again? Steve still has Eddie's lucky pick. ;)

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @bookworm0690 @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @aizawa-emma @yikes-a-bee @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @archermightbegay @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella @jonesn4coffee @slowandsteddie @awkwardgravity1 @steaddie-on

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

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