#sorry for being gloomy on main

[umilily]

i really am the definition of wasted potential.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Rooftop Confessions 🌟

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Finally, my first fic for my 800 follower event 😵‍💫 I'm sorry that it took me so long!! I missed writing for Jason!! I luv him so much 🥹

The order is here 🎂 <3

☆

Jason seems off. Something is bugging him, disturbing your annual date night. After some pressing, he reveals what has happened on his latest patrol and blames himself.

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Something was off. You couldn't pinpoint it, as if it was avoiding you, but the shift in the air made an uneasy feeling creep up your spine. The cold air felt harsher than usual, the sounds of traffic an unpleasant ring in your ears.

But most importantly, he felt off.

Jason had always been a warm and soft presence, at least with you, but now, he felt cold and stiff. Prickly, even, as if you'd hurt yourself if you touched him.

A beautifully blooming cactus you'd admire, reaching out to graze the tantalizing spikes with your fingertips only to fall in face first.

Your eyes were trained on him, a worried crease between your brows. Jason on the other hand was staring straight ahead, an almost lost look in his teal eyes while the flashing lights of a tumultuous Gotham night were reflecting in his irises.

He'd been quiet today, not something completely out of the ordinary, but it was a different kind of quiet. Not the usual comfortable silence when he was more than happy to let you do the talking and listen with a smile and a fond look on his face but the absent kind of silence, as if he was stuck in his head, his thoughts, with no way out.

The empty affirmations of mhm's and hm's made you alert, being cautious and paying even more attention than normal.

Maybe he had a nightmare again, a bad one?- No, he usually told you about them. A fight with Bruce?- Unlikely, he would've cursed him out and complained about him by now. There wasn't a lot that could sour Jason's mood like this, and the fact that you didn't know what it was made you even more worried.

The cold concrete of the rooftop made you shiver, an uncomfortable feeling settling in your bones. It was your usual date night today, something you'd spend in many different ways; of course there was always the classic dinner, however you and Jason got bored of it after a while.

So, now you just did what you wanted to. Whether that was staying in and reading to each other while gloomy clouds hung in the sky or eating your way through every street vendor the main avenue had to offer.

Today, you opted for take-out and camping on the rooftop of your apartment building. Despite all the noise and chaos going on in Gotham, these were the most peaceful nights. Filled with soft laughter, talking about anything and everything along with sweet kisses.

But all of that sugary sweet atmosphere was lacking today. Jason's dinner remained untouched, while you pushed the food around with your fork, your appetite fizzling away. Swallowing the last bite of your fried rice, you gently moved the container off your lap and watched Jason.

The way his brows were pulled together, his eyes stone cold with something else hiding underneath the surface. His jaw was clenched and the entirety of his back and shoulders were tensed up. The dreading anxiety was slowly crawling up your throat, opting you to say something now before the flood of emotions from being overwhelmed and confused would uncontrollably spill out of you.

"Jay?" You asked carefully, watching him intensely.

No reaction, just glazed eyes.

"Jason?" You raised your voice a little, hoping your stern call could break through the thick fog hanging over his mind.

His head moved maybe an inch to face you.

"Hm?" The absent tone in his voice both made you want to huff in frustration and cry.

"What's wrong."

"What? Nothin's wrong-"

"That wasn't a question. I know something is wrong." As much as you wanted to sound steady and firm, the worry in your chest managed to tie your tongue in a knot.

A scoffed slipped past his lips, something that he regretted immediately, judging by his expression.

"Everything is fine, alright?" He tried to assure you softly, but the fake smile he tried so hard to put on only made the feeling in your stomach worsen.

"Don't lie to me." You said quietly, the furrow of your brows tugging uncomfortable on the muscles in your forehead.

"I told you, everything is okay." His reply came out snappy and annoyed, something that has rarely ever happened.

You were taken aback, the shock on your face evident.

Jason's eyes widened and he scrambled for an apology but the only thing that came out was a strained sigh, a hand running through his hair, the tuft of white hair spilling through his fingers.

He got up from his place beside you and dragged his hands down his face with a disgruntled noise.

"You have to tell me what's going on." You pleaded desperately.

If he was acting like this, whatever was wrong wasn't a little dispute with Bruce or even Dick. This was something bigger, something so big that it broke down the impenetrable walls of your invincible lover.

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, his bottom lip finding its way between his teeth. You could see the distress on his face, it was basically radiating off of him. But what made you jump up from your place near the edge of the roof was the quivering of his lip as he tilted his head back.

"Jason.." you reached up and cupped his cheek, the other placed over his heart.

He melted into your touch, curling himself around you in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry, ladybird." He mumbled, pressing his face into your neck.

"Hey, hey... what're you sorry for, Jay?" You asked softly, gently raking your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

There was a beat of silence, his grip tightening around you.

"I fucked up." He sniffled quietly.

"Honey, look at me." You pulled his head from where it was nestled in the crook of your neck and firmly planted your hands on his cheeks.

"What happened? I can only help if you talk to me." You said with a small and gentle smile as your thumbs smoothed out the deep crease between his brows.

His eyes were glassy when he finally met your gaze, and there was the faintest hint of a pout on his kissable lips.

"Deep breath." You cooed, letting one of your hands fall to the middle of his chest.

You watched as Jason inhaled deeply. Unfortunately, the lump in his throat only seemed to grow, and his voice came out shaky when he spoke.

"When-" Jason cut himself off with a defeated sigh as his head tipped forward.

You waited patiently, tightly holding onto his hands while he searched for the right words.

"On patrol, a couple days ago... there were these... I don't know, bad guys? More like wannabe villains or something..." he mumbled, a small smile breaking onto your face at the grumbly tone of his voice.

"And then what, hm?" You asked gently, the pads of your thumbs caressing his scarred knuckles.

His brows furrowed again, but more like he was thinking, a pained shimmer in his eyes nonetheless.

Now, what he was thinking? That was always hard to decipher. You could see the gears turning, but what they were turning, you didn't know.

His shoulders slumped just slightly, something that might've seemed normal or unimportant to the regular eye. Jason's lips were pulled into a thin line.

"One of them, he started his little monologue and I guess... he wanted to get a reaction out of me. You know, he talked about B and Dickie and everyone else. Which, I can handle. I've been doing this a while." He ended it off with a sad chuckled that made your heart twinge.

"But..." he sighed heavily, gently pulling one of his hands from your grip and dragging it down his face.

"It didn't work. So... he... fuck- he mentioned you. He-He said your name and...." Jason's jaw clenched as he tried to force the words out of his throat.

You had to admit, the fact that some random criminal had somehow gotten his hands on information about you made a particularly unpleasant shiver run down your spine.

You swallowed thickly, your stomach tying itself into knots.

Subconsciously, you squeezed Jason's hands tighter, and his gaze snapped towards you, and the look in his eyes was enough to rival a hot dagger to the chest.

"I snapped. He blindsided me so hard- I never would've expected that and-and his fucking grin got wider the angrier I got and his buddies were cackling- I'm so sorry." He rambled nervously, his throat closing up again.

Unspilled tears glistened in his eyes as he bit back a sob.

"It's not your fault, my love. You couldn't have known-" He shook his head repeatedly.

"No, no, I put you in danger. I was reckless and should've controlled my emotions better. If I hadn't put all of them in the ground and had Tim scrub every possible access point to you, who knows what would've happened." He looked almost ashamed that he put your safety on the line, even just for a split second.

"Oh, Jay.." you sighed softly.

"But you took action, didn't you?"

"... I suppose so, but-"

"Ah- no buts. You did the right thing. You fixed your mistake. Gotham's streets are safer without them anyway. Besides, I know you would've protected me regardless. There's no place safer than your arms." You brought his hand to your lips and pressed a sweet kiss to his knuckles.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his cheeks dusted pink.

"I know, I know... I just need you to understand how much I can't lose you." The sincere and almost pleading look in his eyes would've been enough to bring you to tears.

He wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you flush against him.

"I can't lose you. Do you hear me? Ever." He said quietly. Suddenly, all the loud noises of Gotham seemed to cut out as the only thing you could hear were your shared breath and his voice.

"Because... when I'm with you... it feels like my heart sings, my emotions feel like explosions and you... make me so happy." You could feel tears well up in your eyes at his loving and heartfelt confession.

"Jay-"

"I'm a wreck when I'm without you, absolutely unbearable. I need you like I need air and it feels ridiculous sometimes. I never thought happiness would be in the cards for me, and I always asked myself if love was worth it, and it definitely is. You're worth everything." The words spilled out of him with no end as he layed out his heart and soul in front of you on this chilly Gotham rooftop.

His hand cupped your cheek, and you leaned into his warming touch.

"And I hate myself for all times I've ever made you feel like a burden or anything less than perfect. I need you to stay. Here, with me. Forever, preferably." He a cracked a gentle smile making you let out a sniffly giggle.

"I love you. More than I could ever tell you. And I need you to know that I've never been happier." You replied softly, pulling Jason down to bump your nose against his as a gentle gesture of affection.

He smiled, resting his forehead against his while the howling wind of the night was pounding on his back.

"I love you too, ladybird." He whispered, connecting your lips in a sweet and loving kiss that managed to melt any remaining worries you had.

His hand slid upwards between your shoulder blades, the other arm firmly situated around your waist, as he dipped you slightly.

A squeal and a laugh slipped past your lips into the kiss and a pleasant purr of a chuckle rumbled through his chest. Jason pulled back and rested his lips on your forehead, wrapping you tightly in his burly arms.

You hummed softly, your face buried in his chest, shielded from the wind. The pair of you stood on the rooftop, the moon shining down on you as the bustle of Gotham quieted down just a bit.

Your, now cold, take out was long forgotten, as were any uneasy feelings in the pit of your stomach. The steady beat of his heart was enough to lull you to, not quite sleep, but a drowsy state of warmth and love, while enveloped in his arms.

There was no place you'd rather be.

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I hope you enjoyed 😚

More Jason -> 💫

《taglist》: @arkhamknightscxnt @allysunny @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog

If you want to be added/removed from my DC taglist (Bale!Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson) just let me know! 🩷

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Omg I love all your Donna x reader fanfics, they are so good. ✨🤌🏼

If possible, ever since your last story I've been wondering how I'd be if reader went down on Donna and her being all shy (bj basically) or if Donna would try another position 🙈👀

I need some SPICY content 😍

And thanks! 🤭

Yesss!!! Here it is!! I hope you like it!!! Thank you for your nice words :))) Sorry about the language mistakes

Movie night

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, G!P Donna, oral sex, fluff...

Word count: 3,392

Summary: You don't want to keep watching that movie...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes, requests are open!! I love you all :))))

“Are you bored, tesoro?” Donna asked, gently running her hand over your cheek.

It was an ordinary night, like all the nights you had spent in that house, with her.

Taking such an important step as leaving your home and going to live in the dark and gloomy Beneviento estate may have been a bit hasty, but it was worth it from the first moment.

Your relationship was better than ever. Despite Donna's problems, her absurd and almost ridiculous shyness when it came to turning off the light and joining your bodies, everything simply got better with time, like good wine does.

“Oh, no, I’m not” you lied blatantly, shaking your head and with a deeply suspicious smile.

The dim light of an old lamp and the white screen on which you watched movies became a kind of lullaby that forced your eyelids to close without wanting to.

“Honey, you're falling asleep,” your girlfriend said, amused, with a sympathetic look on her face.

The fear that the woman you loved generated in the people of the village didn't matter; the only thing you could feel towards her was love.

“No, that's a lie,” you said indignantly, putting your legs up on the old couch. “I'm watching the movie.”

“The last time you said that, you took care of putting it’s soundtrack on your own, with your snoring,” she said, in a mocking tone, but one that betrayed a certain annoyance. “Tell me the truth, are you bored with me?”

You huffed, sitting up and rolling your eyes. You were already used to her doubts and infinite insecurity.

“No, Donna. I always have a great time with you,” you said, cupping her face in your hands, perhaps too roughly. “It's just that…”

“It’s just that?” She interrupted nervously before you continued the sentence.

“It's just that I like to do other things at night,” you said, diverting the conversation to your territory with the seductive tone that made her hands start to tremble.

As you suspected, Donna laughed nervously, looking away so your mischievous eyes wouldn't exert their bad influence on her.

“You're always thinking about the same thing, tesoro,” she whispered amused, leaning down to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

“With a woman like you by my side, I can't think about anything else,” you purred, deepening the kiss and pressing her chest to gently lay her down on the couch.

“Wait, wait, (Y/N)... If, if you want we can go to the bedroom and…” she said nervously, grabbing your wrists before they started to undo the buttons on her dress.

“You know what?” You said, freeing yourself from her grip and returning to your previous position, stretching exaggeratedly. “We better finish watching the movie. It’s interesting.”

Her expression was just what you were looking for: complete bewilderment. You always tried to remind yourself not to play too much with poor Donna. She rarely understood the fact that you were joking, or that you were saying something without the intention of hurting or offending her in some way.

“What? You're not watching it,” the doll maker protested, her expression hardening, with a childish rage on her face.

“Yes, I'm,” you said cockily, resting a hand on your chin, pretending to look carefully at the white screen.

“Oh, are you? What's the name of the main character?” She asked defiantly getting a bit closer to you, arms crossed.

“I don't know,” you said without relaxing your cocky expression. “If you don't stop talking, I can't hear it.”

“(Y/N), it's a silent movie,” she whispered, changing her serious and offended expression to an amused one as she gently pushed your shoulder.

You, embarrassed by your mistake, hid the blush on your cheeks by placing a finger on your lips.

“Shh…”

“I can't stand you, really,” the lady in black sighed, shaking her head.

“Oh, come on, don't be mad, Donna,” you said, laughing, grabbing her unsuspecting hand as you lay on her lap, looking at her.

She looked back at you with her relaxed face, playing with your hand in hers, tangling your fingers.

“I can't be mad at you, tesoro. You always have that advantage over me,” she said almost in a whisper, running her other hand over your face as your smile grew wider and wider. “Come on, let's finish watching the movie and then... Well, I'm sure you have something on your mind.”

After kissing you lovingly again, her gaze shifted to the screen.

I'm sure you have something on your mind.

That phrase, which served as the end to that small interruption in your movie nights, was decisive for the dark side of your lust to think in your place, sending endless naughty possibilities to your mind.

With a fake sigh, you sat up again, resting your head on her shoulder as she continued to tease you with her caresses. A tickling between your legs finally gave you the courage to put your lascivious thoughts into practice.

Your head moved slightly, enough to make the exposed skin of Donna's neck tingle involuntarily as she felt your breath on it. You loved how easy was for her body to react to your touch.

Your lips kissed her skin carefully, with slow and fast kisses, pulling away just as her body began to tremble due to the contact.

You directed your gaze towards hers. She seemed to be very focused on the movie, but one of her hands betrayed her incipient nervousness, gripping the fabric of her dress tightly.

You laughed gutturally, increasing the intensity of your kisses on her neck while your hand traveled slowly, but without the intention of stopping, towards her legs.

“(Y/N)...” Donna whispered, turning her head towards you, looking at you strangely. “What are you doing?”

“Shhh...” You whispered just as your hand began to go down to insert itself inside her dress, caressing her knee, moving a finger in circles over it. “Keep watching the movie.”

“No, I can't if you're... Ah! (Y/N)!” She said excitedly when your naughty hand continued to rise, gently caressing the bulge between her legs.

“Relax, I'm just playing,” you said amused, biting her earlobe mercilessly.

“Can't we play in the bedroom? At least let me turn this thing off...” She said, nervous about how that lump began to grow in your hand, making your legs tighten together with desire.

“No, leave it on. Don't move, Donna,” you said seductively, caressing her incipient erection while your kisses continued along her jawline until they made contact with her lips.

“(Y/N)...” The woman in black gasped, moving her hips discreetly, preventing the friction that your hand exerted on her most intimate area from disappearing.

In a matter of seconds, the kisses became wild, eager. A simple caress was more than enough for Donna to give in to her own desire.

Your body moved next to his, making your hips dance together, intensifying the subtle contact. You smiled triumphantly at the small moans that your movements caused her.

With a mischievous, hungry gasp, you pulled away from her, your hand gripping her hardness through her clothes as she moaned at the loss of your hot body on hers.

“You're playing with me? You know I hate that…” Donna said in her hoarse voice, with that strong accent that only appeared when she wasn't fully in control of herself.

“Be patient, Beneviento...” You purred removing your hand from her erection and launching yourself at her neck again, kissing her softly, lightly marking your teeth on her pale, shiny skin. “I have something for you…”

“For me?” She asked curiously, blinking profusely with her eye.

“Uh-huh,” you said simply, running your hand over her chest, sneaking under her clothes. You didn't know when some of the buttons on her dress had been undone. Surely it was you in your unbridled lust.

Not wanting to give any more explanations and enjoying her sudden impatience, you slowly got off the couch until you were on your knees in front of her. As it could not be otherwise, Donna looked at you with a frown.

“What are you going to do?” Donna asked as your hands returned to her legs, separating them.

“You don't like surprises, do you?” You asked back, biting your lower lip, anticipating in your mind what was going to happen. “You are always so good to me, Donna… You always make me enjoy so much… I just want to return the favor.”

“Oh, no. There's no need,” she said, looking away from her abruptly, embarrassed. I could probably guess what you were referring to.

“Lie down, my love...”  You said, ignoring her obvious discomfort and slowly lifting her dress.

“Wait, wait,”-she interrupted you, disobeying your request and grabbing your hands before the entire bottom of her body was exposed.

“What's wrong, my pretty Donna? Come on, let yourself go. You'll like it, I promise,” you said, resting your head on her knees, running a finger along her bare leg.

“It's humiliating for you, I don't want you to do something like that just for me,” she said, not daring to look you in the eyes.

“Nonsense, I want to do it. I want to do it because I love you, Donna, and because I want to give back to you a small part of what you give to me,” you said, insisting, knowing that as much as it embarrassed her, the fabric of her dress gave away  the fact that she was actually wanting you to do it.

“I...” She murmured, unable to contain the trembling of her legs.

You stood up, putting a hand on her half-exposed chest, pushing her back against the couch and kissing her softly again.

“Do you really not want to? I'm not going to insist, Donna,” you said in a more relaxed tone, your instincts curbed by her confused look.

“Well, I... It's just... It's embarrassing,” she murmured, holding your chin.

“But you want me to do it, right?” You asked, determined that her answer would make the decision.

“I... Yes...” Donna said, in a tone so low that you had a hard time hearing it, while she nodded slowly and her face took on a reddish tone.

You nodded too, kissing her one last time before going down again, lifting her dress completely and revealing the quivering erection that her underwear could no longer contain.

“I wanted to do this so badly...” You purred, pushing the fabric out of your way, pulling it down over her ankles as you stared in shock at her erect penis.

“Please, please... Don’t, don't say those things,” Donna protested, bringing a hand to her mouth and biting her knuckle at the sensation of having you so intimately close to her.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized falsely, inching closer, reaching out with one hand to keep her length right where you wanted it.

Your hand remained firm, carefully hugging her dick as your lips brushed against the tip, kissing it slowly, causing the trembling of her legs to become accentuated with a surprised moan.

Leaning on your knees, you brought your mouth even closer, introducing part of her erection into it, sucking slowly, enjoying the caresses that your lips made on her skin and the reactions they provoked in Donna.

“(Y/N), that's...” She moaned, writhing on the couch.

You smiled discreetly, going down further, covering her entire length with your mouth, savoring every inch with soft, rhythmic movements of your hand.

“You're delicious, Donna...” You murmured before running your tongue over her skin, stopping right at the tip, making her moans increase in volume and intensity. “You like it that way?”

Donna simply nodded, her eye closed, squeezed tightly to avoid the temptation to open it and take in the scene in front of her, the way you kissed, sucked and licked the part of her body that embarrassed her the most.

You laughed again, resuming your movements, making them slower, more careful, wrapping your lips around the tip, holding it between them before sucking.

You opened your eyes for a moment, curious to know what the woman in black was doing. Just as you thought, she was nervous, trembling from the pleasure you were giving her, but embarrassed by it.

Her hands were limited to grabbing her dress. She couldn't stop her hips from shaking every time your mouth moved down her penis, every time you stopped to caress it up and down with your tongue. Her shyness was even adorable.

Your free hand left her knee to go up to one of hers, gently grabbing  bringing it to the back of your head, causing it to tangle in your hair.

“I... I like it, (Y/N)... You are... Your mouth is... Perfect,”  she murmured embarrassed, blinded by desire, by the movement that her hand involuntarily exerted on your head, raising and lowering it to the rhythm of her hips.

You moaned as you felt how she moved you herself, how the pleasure overcame her embarrassment. The vibration you caused on her skin bounced right between your legs, making the burning desire you felt unbearable.

Your hand played with your own underwear, while the rhythm of your mouth stabilized to match her moans. Although you were paying attention to studying each of your movements and Donna's response to them, you began to caress yourself, running your folds through the fabric, playing with your own wetness.

“It's so hard,” you whispered sensually, eliciting an embarrassing laugh from her lips, a laugh that she drowned out when you continued moving. “You drive me crazy, Donna.”

“(Y/N),” she whispered, with difficulty, adapting to your increase in speed and the small jerks that your body made when you began to touch yourself. “Slower, do it slower…”

The taste of her arousal was present in your mouth as you managed to stabilize yourself and maintain a steady rhythm. If you combined it with your own caresses, the sensation was overwhelming.

“I love having you in my mouth,” you whispered with a smile, keeping your mouth on the tip, noticing how it trembled, how embarrassingly close it was to completely succumbing to that new sensation.

“Don't say those... Oh, tesoro... Wait, wait,” she said panting, trying in vain to move away from you.

“What's wrong?” You asked, raising your head, continuing to move your hand up and down, carefully squeezing her dick, right where you knew it drove her crazy.

“Yes, if you keep doing it I’m going to...” Donna murmured, tightening her grip on your hair.

“Well, that's what I want, darling... Don't hold back...” you said amused, removing your hand from your wetness and releasing her grip on your head.

“No, no, wait... This isn't... Oh, please...” She gasped again between moans when your mouth went down her length again, with more intensity.

The wet sound of your actions was only overshadowed by her nervous breathing, by the erratic movements of her hips. She was so close and you were so excited by it...

“Wait, wait, wait, stop,” the lady in black said suddenly, moving your head away from between her legs.

“What's wrong now?” You asked, disappointed at missing the spectacle of seeing how she released herself right where you wanted.

“Come, come here,” she said hurriedly, placing herself on the couch while she tried to move your body. “I want, I want to do it inside of you, tesoro. Please…”

“Oh,” you said, letting yourself be dragged on top of her hips with a sigh. “You don’t like it?”

“Yes, I like it,” she responded instantly, placing her erection at your entrance, but not inserting it. “I'm afraid I like it too much,” she said amused. “Please… I need… I need…”

“Shhh, calm down, my dear Donna...” You whispered, lowering yourself little by little, making your slippery moisture find no difficulty in adapting to her dick.

Donna moaned at the contact, feeling a strange kind of relief. There was nothing in the world that could compare to the feeling of her tightening your walls and moving inside you. At least for Donna.

Once your body fully adjusted, you began to move slowly, enjoying the overwhelming feeling of her penis inside you trembling, on the verge of losing control.

“Oh, Donna... You're so... Good,” you said, with labored breathing.

She moaned in response, running her hands along your back, helping you move with that slow pace that you sensed was so the fun wouldn't end prematurely.

Unexpectedly, she came out with a nervous gasp. You looked at her strangely, but you didn't want to protest, since, with a quick movement, Donna turned your body, making you lie face down on the couch.

“Well, well... We're naughty...” You said in a mocking tone, raising your hips towards her, who moved slowly until she was standing behind you.

“Don't talk anymore, (Y/N). I always wanted to do this,” Donna said in your ear, grabbing your legs to keep them in place, approaching her slowly, playing with her length at your entrance.

You didn't want to say anything and besides, you couldn't do it. Donna entered you immediately, causing your walls to tighten in a different way due to this new position.

“Oh, keep going,” you managed to say as your body began to bounce against the couch due to her more erratic than usual thrusts.

The creak of the old furniture was the only distinguishable sound in that tangle of hurried gasps and moans. Donna took you intensely, but the way she caressed you served as a reminder that she loved you, that she was never going to let you stop feeling that way.

“It hugs me so well, (Y/N)... You're so wet,” she murmured, slowing her hips so you could hear her. “I can't wait any longer, I need to fill you...”

It wasn't normal for Donna to use those kinds of words with you. She only did it when her arousal completely overcame her, when she was about to release herself.

Those lustful whispers were more than enough to make your body tense in surprise. You were so busy making her enjoy your actions that you had forgotten how embarrassingly close you were to your own release.

A muffled moan was what gave away your orgasm, making your body arch between jolts of pleasure.

Donna took advantage of that to pull you back, holding you in a way where she could continue her thrusts, being gentler this time.

“Have you cum, darling? How anxious...” She said amusedly, running a hand over your chest to hold it while her own rhythm destabilized.

“Aren't you supposed to be shy?” You asked teasingly, moving your hips in a way that you knew would make her melt instantly.

Donna simply laughed before her hips moved faster and faster until finally, with one last thrust, she released herself inside of you, filling you with her heat as her body trembled.

When you caught your breath, she laid you down lovingly on the couch and climbed on top of you to kiss your lips slowly, caressing you with trembling hands.

“I love you,” you said with a smile, which she returned.

“I love you, (Y/N),” she said softly, resting her head on your chest.

“Look, it looks like the movie is over,” you said, amused.

“(Y/N),” she said, now with a slightly more serious tone. “What you have done to me…”

“What? Did you like it?” You asked, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear.

She nodded embarrassedly, not being able to maintain eye contact with you.

“Well, I'm glad because it was the first time I did it,” you said with a smile, grabbing her chin so she wouldn't avoid your gaze.

“We should... You know... Clean us up,” Donna said shyly, with that familiar blush on her cheeks.

“Would you like a bath?”

“Sure”

“Maybe if you feel like it... We can repeat...” You whispered, running a hand over her chest.

“(Y/N), I need to rest, Donna said, amused, shaking her head.

“We'll see about that,” you challenged, getting up from the couch and grabbing her hand to drag her next to you.

“I'm going to activate Angie,” the woman in black threatened, stumbling due to your haste.

“No, you're not going to do it,” you said, walking through the dark hallways of the basement.

“(Y/N)...”

[geegers22]

I’ve seen lots of conversation on here about Zutara shippers opinions on aang and mai and i thought I’d give my point of view.

I want to start by saying that I think there should be more of a distinction between disliking a character because they are a bad person and disliking a character because they are written badly. With that being said, I can confidently say that, with the material of the main ATLA show, I dislike Aang and Mai because they are badly written characters. Meaning, if their arcs were properly finished, I would have no problems with them. This brings me to another topic of how I don’t really ‘hate’ characters who are bad people if they’re well written but that’s a conversation for another post.

I need to point out that I didn’t start disliking Aang and Mai until they had their arcs undermined when Kataang and Maiko became canon. With the arcs they were going on, they had so much potential to be really interesting and I enjoyed their personalities.

When it comes to Aang, I had no problem with him as a character until season 3 part 2 when I started to realize that his world view (which is flawed based solely on the fact that he is young and there is no way he’s going to have a nuanced pov) was not going to be challenged. Aang should have had to give up katara. Aang should not have just had everything handed to him with the lion turtle and the pointy rock.

Then there’s the southern raiders which I would argue, if Aang’s arc had been completed, would not illicit as many conversations and arguments about it as it currently has. Because his actions in that episode make sense (Sokkas don’t really but again-that’s another story) because he’s a kid. This episode should have been a big decider of his change in worldview. The problem is that the creators decided his flaws didn’t exist and that he was perfect. (At 12 years old?!?!?)

Then there’s Mai. She’s a much smaller character but that doesn’t mean she deserves less of an arc. Mai is a character whose personality I love! (I’m all for gloomy depressed women!) There’s two ways Mai’s character could have developed, and I think both options are great, the problem is that Bryke decided to go in neither direction.

On the one hand, Mai could have been a representation of unlearning the propaganda she was taught in the fire nation throughout her whole life. I think this direction would make Maiko more believable, although I still don’t think they are a good couple because their personalities create a toxic dynamic and Mai’s story with Zuko is meant to represent that toxicity.

The second option would be to have her views not change, like we see in the show, and have her not get back together with Zuko. This is the more interesting path in my opinion because it’s more realistic. I don’t think the problem with Mai’s arc lies with her personal views of the fire nation, more so with her relationship with Zuko. As we have it in the show, Mai’s views don’t change. Therefor, it doesn’t make sense for her character or for Zuko’s for them to get back together like nothing ever happened.

When it comes down to it. Both Aang and Mai had their arcs sabotaged because the creators rejected Zutara. Even without Zuko and Katara getting together these were the wrong decisions. Both characters had potential to be well written, but in the end, the creators chose the path didn’t allow that to happen because they just couldn’t kill their darling. (Kataang)

Sorry for rambling, this is kind of just my take on the whole “Zutara shippers hate Aang and Mai” take.

[f2e5b1]

bitter orange — okkotsu yūta [2/3]

pairings. okkotsu yūta + f! reader/original character (main); past!orimito rika + f!reader; past!okkotsu yūta + orimito rika word count. 3.5k previous

PART TWO: sour grapes

You visit her grave often.

We’re sorry. She was too young. We knew how much she meant to you. Although you knew they didn’t actually care, because they never liked her in the first place. None of them mattered, none of it mattered. You stay in your room most days, walking home by yourself all the time. Yūta stopped talking to you after a couple weeks, stopped waiting for you at the gates to walk home together. You were fine with that; he’s got the ring, you don’t. Eventually, you stopped seeing him all together—it’s as if he disappeared along with her. Good, you hate him less that way.

In your first year of middle school, you start to see… them: deformed and grotesque, a glimpse of unimaginable nightmares that live among the shadows. They were smaller when you were younger, hiding away in small spots and silent and anxious but watching—always watching. They look bigger now, and, as you learn quickly, are very dangerous. Nobody else sees them, though, so you’ve always chalked it up to hallucinations.

But one day, a mysterious man with white hair visits you, calls himself Gojō Satoru and says he’s a “jujutsu sorcerer,” whatever that is. Cursed spirits, he calls them, born from humanity’s negative emotions. A sorcerer’s job is to “exorcize” them—so like a shaman but not really. What’s even funnier? He says you’re one of them—these sorcerers, that there’s this school who’ll train you to fight them, where you’ll meet others just like yourself.

Sometimes, you think of her whenever they’re around. They’re ugly and loud, always spewing indecipherable sentences and crying in the shadows, and they aren’t pretty, but you think of her anyways. It’s a disservice, you think, to have such thoughts, not when she had been so kind and beautiful, and these curses are so clearly not. They don’t have her long brown hair shining under the sun, don’t have her sparkling brown eyes crinkled in delight. Don’t have her smile either, upturned and sweet, with the little beauty mark on the right. And worst of all, they don’t have her voice, a beautiful melody in comparison to their unpleasant wailing. She wouldn’t have sounded like that.

You visit her grave often, but she’s never there. The ichigo daifuku rot on the cement, then get cleaned up after a day or two.

+

Okkotsu Yūta looks too close to death.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, hands clutching onto his bag like a sad attempt at a lifeline. When he stands, he visibly slouches, eyebags darker than his unruly hair. His head hangs like he has a noose around his neck, and if you look a little closer, his shadow consumes, almost like a sentient being, an insatiable darkness pooling under his feet. ��I’m sorry.”

Funnily enough, it’s comforting.

“I didn’t do it for you,” you say, adjusting the strap of your bag as you walk ahead. He almost stumbles from trying to catch up, but falls within a steady pace a few meters behind.

“... Oh, okay. Um. Still, thanks.”

“I did it because they were being annoying.”

“... Yeah.”

You turn around to face him. “Are you embarrassed?”

He pauses. “What…?”

“Are you embarrassed because you were saved by a girl?”

He blinks, confused, with his wide blue eyes staring back at you. Then, he flushes, a dust of color finally appearing on his pale skin, “N—no! It’s just… we just haven’t talked in a while, so…”

“So, you don’t wanna talk?”

“No… I—... No, I do,” he stammers, as if trying to find his balance in the world. Gone was the energetic Okkotsu Yūta you knew from your childhood, who used to be stricken with adoration for his since-then-dead-fiancée, and now reduced to a gloomy, unsettling, lonely boy who gets bullied in side empty classrooms in his third year of junior high.

He finally catches up with you, having taken advantage of you gradually slowing down. He continues following you to somewhere you don’t even know where, perhaps home, but he follows you regardless. He’s too close, you think, but make no move to push him away. It’s not so bad to only hear your footsteps and the occasional car or two, even if you were making up most of the initial conversation; it’s a scenario that’s comforting, much like the shadow that trails after him. Though you don’t exactly know why it has that effect on you, not when it’s just Okkotsu Yūta—bane of your existence Okkotsu Yūta since you were nine years old. Why one glance at his shadow is like salvation for you is something completely beyond the realm of understanding, but it isn’t as if—

You pause. Oh.

It’s Rika, isn’t it?

“... Your knuckles are bleeding,” Yūta comments quietly, looking down at your hand. You both come to a stop, observing the scratch and cuts on your knuckles before he takes it in his grasp, inspecting it further. “I’m sorry,” he says, annoyingly guilty.

“Don’t apologize,” you say.

“Sorry—...”

He keeps his mouth shut.

You sort of understand now, why he has avoided everyone since then, why he doesn’t fight back even when it hurts, why he always looks like a dead man on the last thread of survival, eyes hollow and skin cold and pale, with darkness following him and darkness consuming him. Whether it be from divine punishment or an unfortunate mishap, at the wrong place at the wrong time, it is clear that Okkotsu Yūta is being haunted by a vengeful cursed spirit, because of course he is.

Of course he turns your first love into a curse.

He drops your hands, adjusts the straps of his bag, and continues walking, unknowing of your revelation. You watch him for a moment, your eyes dropping to the heavy shadow that encompasses him. That heavy, familiar shadow of his—

… And you go with the impossible.

You take his hand in yours.

There’s a pause after that, a sudden change in the air that makes the hairs on your necks stand up, a chill go down your spines, and you think you hear a low growl in the distance, a warning you do not obey. Yūta doesn’t look at you, as if he’s afraid something entirely out of his control will happen, a scene he’s seen countless times already, and yet he doesn’t let go. He grips your hand tightly, instead—afraid and unsure. For you, maybe? You don’t exactly know.

But a few moments pass, and nothing happens. So he relaxes just a bit, heaving out a shaky exhale and then he’s finally looking at you, tired eyes meeting your firm gaze.

Something clicks, then. Like the last piece of a puzzle is found.

And for the first time since Rika’s death, you walk home with Okkotsu Yūta.

+

It becomes a routine. You’d meet by the gates of your school, say nothing to each other, and start walking. After you cross the first street, you’d grab his hand and continue on without a word.

He adapts to it quickly, doesn’t even flinch or pull away. He hasn’t said anything about it, and neither have you. It feels incessant to do so, not when it feels… right. Like a gap has been filled somewhere in your heart, so close to making you whole, but so far it hasn’t really been enough; like you need more, but you’re also fine with this, whatever it is. Rika has been silent this whole time, an anvil of obsession resting on his shoulders that it's almost a good thing; she’s always been a jealous girl, so it’s nothing short of a miracle that she hasn’t even ripped you to shreds just yet. She knows you know she’s there, watching you—she has all the power to take you away from him, and you’d let her. You’d let her do anything to you if it comes down to it, really.

Yūta reeks of death, still, but you don’t mind anymore. It’s Rika, and that’s all that matters. You know it’s her because who else can it be? If Yūta’s being haunted by a cursed spirit then you would’ve long since exorcized it the moment you saw him—but who was the one who saw her get hit by a truck right in front of him, saw her bleed to death as she called out his name in her last breath? Who was the one who screamed out her name, begging for her to come back, to not leave him and was traumatized to hell and back at the sight of her small body crushed to nothing, the sound of her bones cracking underneath the pressure?

Who was the one who turned her into a curse?

You hate him for it, sometimes, for keeping her away from you, for not telling you. She’s a cursed spirit—but does he even know that? Does he know that there are people in this world capable of eradicating her? Does he hate it? To have her attached to him like a conjoined twin, so inseparable it makes you drown in your own envy, the green-eyed monster who has risen from the depths of your heart now that she is here. Is he afraid of her? Of what she has become? Of what he has made of her?

You aren’t. You love her, after all.

But he’s the one she haunts, because she loves Okkotsu Yūta. He wears the ring even now, buried deep under his shirt, and connected to his heart. You’re close enough to rip it away from him, leave him bleeding with nothing to hold onto the memory of her. But you don’t do it, even though you still hate him just a little bit without really ever doing anything about it; your heart is not so fickle to forget what he had stolen from you.

“What highschool are you going to?”

You slow down. “Why are you asking?”

He looks at the ground. “I don’t know—I just wanna know, I guess. Have you taken any entrance exams yet?”

“I’ve already decided where to go.”

“Oh… to where?”

“Still here, in Tokyo. It’s a religious private school, but it’s all the way up the mountains.”

He pauses. “I didn’t know you were religious.”

“It’s Buddhist.”

He’s silent for a while, thoughtful. And then he looks back at you, dark eyes boring into your own. “Did they give you a scholarship, or something like that?”

“Something like that,” you pick up the pace, and he’s forced to follow.

“Is it related to kendo? I didn’t know that religious private schools offer that kind of scholarship—especially those by the mountain-side… Isn’t that too rural?”

“Why do you think of kendo?”

His eyes flick over to your shoulder, where your cursed weapon usually sits in lieu of your school bag. This time it’s absent, since it’s mostly useless now that you’ve figured out your technique. “You always walk around with this long bag—like it could fit a shinai or something. Isn’t that what it is?”

“I guess so,” you don’t elaborate further, he doesn’t ask anymore questions.

Truthfully, you don’t know what to do. You’re elated at the fact that Rika has always been here, although silent and brooding and definitely now a dangerous entity capable of destroying a whole nation, perhaps even a Special Grade, what with all that cursed energy bursting forth from the seams of Yūta’s shadows that you can now sense from a mile away, but at the same time you find that you don’t really care that a powerful cursed spirit has been plaguing this city for years—not when it’s her.

All you know is that you don’t want to be the one to exorcize her.

You probably won’t be the one to do it anyway.

+

A month before graduation, Yūta tells you that he doesn’t want to say goodbye. As he speaks, you notice that his grip on your hand feels a little tighter than usual.

“Why not?” you ask calmly, though you think you’re doing a bad job at being nonchalant.

You don’t wanna leave Rika, either. She hasn’t shown herself to you yet, mostly remaining somewhere within Yūta without a single peep or squeak, but you think it’s better that way. You’ve long since resolved that you’re alright with being near her without actually seeing or confirming if she’s really there, not when you can feel her through Yūta anyway. It’s enough for you.

But he’s not looking at you, instead adamant at finding what’s so interesting about the ground. Somehow, he trusts you enough to guide him as you walk, to look out for poles or signs or walls that could hit him. You don’t exactly know how to feel about that information, so you store it away for another time.

“Okkotsu?” you call when he doesn’t reply.

“Yūta,” he’s looking at you now, hair falling over his dark, blue eyes.

“What?”

“You can call me ‘Yūta’,” he clarifies. “Ume-chan.”

You pause, slowing down to a halt. He gets a few extra steps ahead before he’s forced to stop, looking back at you curiously. Since when had he gotten such confidence? Last month he had just been a bumbling, timid boy, so much so that one misdirected glare from you could send him freezing on the spot.

“Okay,” you breathe out. “Yūta.”

He smiles, giddily, but then the atmosphere darkens just a little bit. He quickly falters at this, smile disappearing almost as fast as it appeared. He grips your hand tighter, looking down at the ground once again.

“Are you scared?” you ask.

He shakes his head weakly, looking up. “No…?”

“You’re lying,” you say.

Yūta looks down again. You wait for him, feel the coldness of his skin, and the slight chill of the weather.

“I want to go with you,” he finally admits. “I don’t wanna go somewhere you’re not.”

And you’re quiet, the silence filled in by the sound of people from the playground just a few miles ahead. Yūta gains the courage to look up to you, to see your reaction, hoping you aren’t too angry even though you hold so much hate in your heart for him. He knows that, at least.

(But you’re holding his hand, aren’t you? You fight his bullies, knuckles red and bruised, even though you don’t need to. You stay with him, even though you don’t have to. You make his life a little bit easier, even if you don’t really want to.)

“Why?” you ask, face betraying nothing, just plain curiosity. “Why do you say that?”

Yūta thinks that maybe he is afraid of her sometimes, even if he doesn’t want to be.

So he says, “It’s quieter when you’re around.”

He must have said something wrong for you to suddenly let go of him.

“I’m sorry—“

But then you take his hand again, not intertwining it, but settling it within yours so he can feel the warmth of your touch, like you never even let go in the first place.

“Don’t apologize,” you command, like you always do.

“… Okay.” And Yūta listens.

You squeeze his hand. He holds on to it tighter, like letting go once again will mean letting you go, and yet he’ll have to do that in a month anyway even if he really wished that isn’t the case.

“You can’t come with me,” you say, like it’s final. “That school… it doesn’t suit you.”

He searches for something in your eyes, and finds nothing. “Why not?”

Because they will kill her, you think. They’ll kill the both of you, and then you’ll be alone forever.

“It just won’t,” you say with finality.

“Okay,” he says, staring at you thoughtfully.

Your available hand reaches out to adjust the scarf around his neck, adjusting it so it hangs more loosely around him instead of tightly like a noose. The teal fabric bunches up in your hand as you move it around, patting it down before you find his dark eyes boring into yours. The spring chill caresses his face gently, softly swaying the unruly spikes of his hair as he watches you tend to him, the way you make him feel like a burden but he doesn’t mind if it's you.

You eventually finish with your work, moving on to continue walking home.

The silence disappears, because Yūta’s heart is too heavy with want.

+

There’s a few things that happen when you dream, but it mostly goes like this:

There’s a bench in the middle of a white void and a huge cherry blossom tree behind it, petals slowly falling onto the ground and covering it in a mass of light pink. Just a few feet in front of it is a koi pond, filled with differently colored koi that make them seem like a bunch of koinobori instead of the actual thing—black, red, white, yellow, green, and blue koi. You’re sitting on the bench, an unopened box of three ichigo daifuku sitting on your lap as you observe the fish swimming inside the relatively small pond.

It always starts this way when you dream of Rika; things change very little and progress nothing. But you find comfort in it either way, as it remains to be the only way you can see her, deep within your REM sleep where nothing in the world can disrupt it.

She eventually appears from the other side, sitting next to you without a word. When you turn to face her, she’s a bit visually different from the last time you saw her in reality—coming up to your height, her brown hair is just a little bit longer, but instead of her familiar dark blue dress, she wears a normal uniform from a normal high school you hope to get into. In your dreams, Rika has continued growing alongside you, blessed and healthy and happy. In your dreams, Rika is alive.

“You’re so sweet, Ume-chan,” she praises, taking the box of ichigo daifuku you offer her. “You always know what I want!”

Of course you do.

“Anything for you, Rika-chan,” you respond fondly.

She giggles, the soft lilt of her voice like an enchanting melody you’ll never get sick of. You like it. You like this. You like her.

When you take her hand in hers, she doesn’t protest, instead squeezing yours in return as some form of quick reassurance that yes, she’s here, and she’s right next to you. The both of you continue sitting on the bench for who knows how long, staring into the small pond with the colorful koi without uttering a single word—a serene silence that cannot be measured by time passing, every flick of the fish’s tail, the fall of the petals from behind.

Your dreams always start like this, and end like this. It’s not much, but you’ve long since found contentment in what this fantasy can give you, long since convinced yourself that anything is fine as long as you get to see her.

You close your eyes, preparing for the dream to finish up, to miss the warmth of her hand in yours and wake up to another day without her—but it doesn’t end there.

“Ume-chan?” Rika calls, slowly.

Your eyes open. “... Yeah?”

She’s properly facing you now, torso turned to your direction with this impassive expression. You watch her stare at you, mapping out her features, the curve of her nose, the length of her lashes—something, anything that could tell you that this could all be real, that this is not just a dream. That Rika is still alive and not merely a figment of your imagination, stuck behind the bars of your subconsciousness. Because all you are is a liar, and not once were you ever content with just seeing her here.

You just want her back.

Rika brings her palm up to your cheek, caressing your face with her tender touch. “Don’t cry, Ume-chan,” she says in her soft voice.

You didn’t even realize you were.

“I love you, Rika-chan,” you all but practically sob, leaning into her hand. It’s warm, it feels so real. “I love you so much. Please come back to me.”

Rika just smiles, wiping away your tears with her thumb. You can’t breathe, vision foggy from your tears and panic rising in your chest when her figure becomes nothing but a blurry mess in front of you. You reach out to her, knowing deep down that you’re just grabbing onto loose threads but—

Then, you wake up.

+

Yūta looks at you with wide eyes.

“... You’re bleeding!” he stammers, breath quickening as he stumbles away from you in a fit of fright. “Rika—Rika-chan attacked you…!”

He cowers away into the corner of the classroom, head in his hands, begging the world for nothing else to happen, for Rika not to come out and lunge at you again like she did with all his other bullies, like you’re one of them. Idiot, idiot, idiot Yūta! He should have seen this coming, should have known that nothing will stop Rika from endangering anyone, not even you. He can’t lose anyone again, not Rika, not you—especially you—he can’t take another loss anymore.

But when Yūta gathers enough courage to see how you’re doing, he can’t fight the surprise that crawls up his throat.

Because as you’re sitting there in front of him, fingers gently grazing the nasty gash on your cheek, staring back at him so quietly it’s too suffocating, and he feels so guilty, so miserable—

And yet, you’re smiling.

next

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Sorry just… just having insane!König thoughts. Imagine u want a dog. Oh, that one? That dog over there, one like that right? Okay! (Breaks into owners house and steals the dog) “for you :D” and ur like omg !!!! Wtf 😭

Someone disrespects u (disrespecting König’s girl is literally just looking at her for more than 3 seconds), he has their head on a platter.

So many red flags!! But he loves u, in his own fucked up way. Do him any wrong and he’ll lock u in his home forever tho😔

Yes this is yandere König, our most beloved toxic King ❤️ (Aw I've missed him ❤️❤️❤️)

He would love to steal get you a pet because that way, you won’t whine too much about wanting to see more of your friends and family. Dog is a good option because you can’t leave this animal without care for too long, it will provide you with distraction when he’s away, and you won’t get too lonely or bored (not to talk of getting out of the house and risk seeing “Have you seen this dog?” posters all around the town)

No, you’re too preoccupied to venture out, especially when it’s a nice, plump puppy he got you! It’s almost like you’re practicing to be a mom...

You look so sweet when playing with the dog, sending König pics and videos of you with the pup, teaching it to do tricks and stuff. It licks your face, and you squeeze your eyes shut and giggle from joy, and König doesn’t even get jealous. At least, not too much... Surprisingly, he’s very pleased with his decision to get a pet for you. Yes, he has the ability to make you very happy... Clearly, you couldn’t get a better man: he takes care of all of your needs!

And everything’s nice and peaceful until you go out with him. König gets annoyed easily, if someone pays attention to you at the store for example, it’s always a hassle because he has to constantly scare away potential harassers and perverts, filthy men checking out your breasts and ass, eyes lingering a bit too long on your pretty face. Smashes his hand against a wall or goes to stand menacingly not three inches away from these poor guys who had the audacity to take a short glance at you.

It's not a good idea to doll up and go to a restaurant with him, there would be a WW3 before you got to the main course… And heaven forbid if he catches you smiling at a man! (meaning, being polite to the cashier/waiter) König won’t kill anyone while you're watching, he would never upset you with mindless violence, but tires will be slashed and throats might get cut before the evening is done…

And he would never, ever hurt you. It’s just that König always jokes about kidnapping you, ever since you started dating him. And this time, when he's about to leave for work, you find that your key has gone missing… You already moved in with him, a bit too quickly, your friends warned, so now you’re stuck in a big gloomy house with a dog and a big pile of dirty laundry.

Yes, it’s too bad that you can’t leave the place now when he’s away and there's no extra key, but don’t worry, he got you plenty of groceries! And there's a silly puppy keeping you company, isn’t it nice? He has a big home theater and terabytes of pirated movies and shows to choose from, what more could you ask for? He’ll call you every chance he gets ❤️ Don’t forget to send pictures ❤️

[hirayaaraw]

Of Taxes and Marriage

Tags: friends to lovers; marriage for convenience / fake marriage; pining

Next

It's Saturday and you were supposed to have to watch a movie downtown with your bestfriens Wonwoo but plans were changed. Here you are in his dining table with your laptop and cramming your tax file that is due on Monday.

"Why no one has taught this in college?" You complain while you were dizzy with the amount of payslips you got from your main job and side hustle. "I'm really sorry for cancelling our plans, Won."

"It's fine." Wonwoo said before sitting next to you and peek on your laptop. You can see his grimace on your peripheral view.

"Should I call my mom's secretary to fix your tax file so we can eat our dinner now?" You roll your eyes. Wonwoo, of course, the rich kid he is, knows and have anyone to fix your tax.

"I doubt you call them to fix yours."

"Well, right." And Wonwoo, the rich kid he is, doesn't like using his connection. He likes doing his stuff on his own. "I don't even want to call my mom right now because that means another blind date to arrange with another daughter of someone."

"Poor you." You said nonchalantly. You couldn't care less about his rich boy problem because when you saw the amount of tax you will be paying. "I'm doomed."

Wonwoo pulled your laptop as you try to process the fact that you owe the freaking government a huge amount of tax. "Woah. You made that much in your side hustle?"

"Made that much, gave away so much to my family, and now I need pay so much to this government." You stressed out as you comb your hair in frustration. You are thinking to delay the payment and paying the penalties. "Not to mention my monthly rent."

"You need some help?"

"No, I'm fine. I can handle this." You said and close your laptop. "What should we eat tonight?"

"Orange chicken?"

"That sounds nice. Do you the ingredients?" You stood up and went to his refrigerator.

"Yeah, I did some grocery when you said we gonna cancel the plan tonight." He said then start preparing the utensils that will be used.

This is how your weekends usually happen. Dinner with either of your apartments. Cooking together or if you both feeling lazy, you order pizza and do some movie marathon. This started during your college days as broke students and now you two are inseparable.

Once you are done cooking, you felt a bit better as you see Wonwoo become excited about the food. He prepared the table and pull you a chair.

"Thank you for the food." He said before closing his eyes to mutter a short prayer. "Finally a real food."

"If only you can stop being lazy about cooking."

"I told you I can't cook."

"Then what did we do earlier, Mister?"

"Well, I chop and you do your magic." Wonwoo said then ate a spoonful of rice. He continued explaining how shitty he is as a cook. You just agreed he is a bad cook and settled on cooking on weekends for him so he can stay alive or else he will live through instant noodles and canned goods.

Once you finish eating, you clear the table and he wash the dishes. He notice how your aura is still gloomy despite trying to make you laugh.

"You know I can help you if you tell me." He said while rinsing the plate.

"If the government can give tax break to corporations for doing charity, why can't they do it for single women who are breadwinners?" You whined at him. "If you happen to know who to contact to lower my tax bracket, then I will gladly ask for your help."

Wonwoo wipe the plates dry and put it on the cabinet. He bit his lower lip and turn to you.

"What? Do you know how?"

"Yeah" Wonwoo said in low voice. Unsure if he should say it.

"Really? You know how?" You said excitedly and you hugged him. Wonwoo gulped as he smelled your perfume. You pulled away from him and waited for this information.

"You need to marry someone to get a tax break." He said in a matter of fact tone. You groaned and slap his chest in annoyance.

"Where can I find a husband? I've been single since we graduated." You frowned at him while he smiled at you. He ruffled your hair to annoy you more.

"You can marry me."

You blink twice at him. It seems like your brain is playing at you. You scanned his face to see any sign if he is joking or what but Wonwoo is just smiling at you.

"What did you say?"

"I sad you can marry me." Wonwoo said in a very serious tone then gave you a small smile. You can feel your heart beat jumps.

"You shouldn't joke about marriage, asshole." You pushed him towards the sink and walk to his sofa. He followed you like a lost cat.

"Hey I'm serious." Wonwoo said when he caught your hand.

"Marriage for tax? Are you kidding me?" You looked at him with disbelief on how he came up with that idea. "Marriage should happen between two people who love each other."

"We love each other!" He said as if it is the easiest thing on the world.

"Platonically."You said and Wonwoo still holding your hand slowly kneeling on one knee.

"You get a lower tax bracket, my mom will stop pestering me about blind dates."

"Insane."

"You can pay me half of your monthly rent or even nothing if we get married."

"I can believe you are talking me through this and I am seriously considering it."

"Y/N, will you marry me? For the sake of taxes and everything that bothers us." He asked you with that endearing smile. How could you say no?

"You'll help me file my tax?"

"Gladly."

"I will shoo away your blind dates."

"I am literally on my knees so please."

"Half of my rent and I cook for you everyday."

"I will be forever grateful."

"When's our wedding?"

That's how you ended up Monday morning at the city hall in your white skirt, coat, and strapped on heels. Wonwoo arrived at your appartment with a bouquet yellow tulips and to add the wedding vibe according to him. He looks handsome in his black tuxedo and slick back hairstyle.

Now you both stand in front of a judge as he precided your wedding. You drag a janitor and a court clerk to be a witness to your wedding. Wonwoo held both of your hands. You listen to the judge intenly while he looks at you endearingly.

"With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

You and Wonwoo's eyes widen in surprise. You forgot the part where you need to kiss each other. Wonwoo slowly remove the veil from your face.

He held your cheeks gently and you look at him before closing your eyes. This is not the first kiss you shared with him. However, this is is special as you are now his wife. He lowered his head and gave you a kiss. You can feel his smile against yours and you couldn't help but reach his face with your free hand.

"Congratulations, Mr. And Mrs. Jeon!" You pulled away and hugged him. Wonwoo laughed as he hugged you tighter.

Just two idiots who will never admit they love each other romantically.

2017 December

A day before you both leave the campus dorm to celebrate the holiday. You are sitting side by side in his tiny couch with a bowl of popcorn on your lap. Love, Rosie playing on the screen.

"Do you think we will be in love at each other like them?" You asked him out of the blue. Just pure curiousity.

"I don't know. Maybe? We don't what fate holds for us."

"But is that fine with you?"

"Fine with?"

"Falling in love with me in the future."

"Yeah there's not to love about you." Wonwoo said calmly as if it is a non brainer question. You put the popcorn on the coffee table.

You don't know what went on your mind. It is suddenly hazy. You turn to him while Wonwoo is watching Rosie confess.

"I want to know something."

"Shoot."

"Can I kiss you?"

"Okay." Wonwoo looked at you. Without anytime waster, you pulled him towards you and kiss him. It took few seconds for Wonwoo to respond. His hand grab your neck to deepen the kiss. You were never kissed like this before.

You pulled away to breathe. He rested his forehead to yours before giving you a peck.

"Was it that you want to know?" He asked you with breathy voice. You stood up before you were completely trap by the spell he puts you in.

"Oh look. It's late. I have a bus to catch on tomorrow morning." You pick up your phone and ran towards the door. "Merry Christmas, Wonwoo!"

Your curiousity is satisfied. You just learned that Wonwoo has the ability to make your heart go crazy and your heart is ridiculously beating for him.

But no, you don't need love as senior college student clinging on scholarship. You set aside the feelings and burried it the whole holiday season.

It was the first but certainly not the last kiss you shared with Wonwoo as friends.

2019 July

Drinks flowing as the campus celebrated the night before the graduation ceremony. Everyone is inebriated as well as you and Wonwoo.

Wonwoo never left your side and his free arm is stucked in either your waist or shoulder. Both of you were laughing like idiots at the corner of your batchmate's house, you legs resting on his lap and your head on his shoulder. The party music blaring in the whole house.

When the laughter between the two of you ensued, you both notice how there is almost no distance between the two of you. You can smell the beer and his musky perfume.

Wonwoo raised your chin and you can see the hesitation in his eyes. You held his hand and took this as a sign. He kissed you tenderly. A little bit sloppy but you can feel his yearning as if he is scared that he will be losing you.

Once you are both out of breath, you rested your head on his chest. Hands still intertwined.

"Y/N" Wonwoo called you. You hummed against his chest. He felt that he has the whole world. He is nervous but it feels like a now or never situation. "Have I told you that I love you?"

He waited for a response but nothing came out from you. Wonwoo looked down just to see you sleeping on him.

Present

If he told the 2019 Jeon Wonwoo that he will end up marrying you, his old self will never believe it. If he told his past self that you both spent the night of your wedding playing board games, his old self will laugh at him for being loser.

He is happy and content for what he has right now. His confession can wait.

Right now, you enjoy defeating Wonwoo in every scrabble round. Your heart beats like first time you both kissed. Just like the first time you kissed, you wanted to put aside your feelings and focus on the pressing matters at hand.

Next

[chaosduckies]

Friends In Small Places (Chapter 1)

The size shifter story is finally here! This is more of a slightly sad piece, even though this first chapter isn’t really all that gloomy and monochrome, I actually have this entire plot line planned out and everything, and whew is the ending going to be something.

But I hope you enjoy! (this chapter is mainly just for introductions so I’m sorry if there really isn’t anything interesting TwT)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Depression, major anxiety, slight gore warning? (Though nothing actually happens)

1-Liam

Today the main hall was bustling with people crowding the board that had all of the activities and clubs posted on. Most of the time people didn’t care all too much about it, only the people who were actually in those clubs, but today was different for some reason. Fitting in between the seemingly hundreds of people, I saw what the commotion was all about. The psychology classes were all being called to a meeting at four. Which was when most classes ended, but still. It’s rare that this school ever calls meetings. It just so happens that I was taking psychology though. 

I sighed, moving back on the free sidewalk get to the library. A friend was waiting for me to help her study for a test she had in just a few hours. I thought I might as well help seeing that I’ve already taken the course. I used to think that college was extremely strict from how my old high school teachers described it, but in reality it’s not that hard when you just take the time to study and take a few practice tests the day before one. It was just two-and-a-half years before I major in psychology and become a therapist. Well, that was my dream anyways. In this world, it was a lot harder given that most therapists get assigned to a size shifter. That was something I didn’t want to do. Well, maybe if it was one who could only shrink, but that’s maybe it. It freaks me out knowing that there are some shifters who could be as tall as a small skyscraper, and some even bigger. A shiver ran down my spine even thinking about it. But that won’t happen. 

Among the few people sitting at the quiet tables lines with pencils, a few pieces of notebook paper, and a lamp that barely even worked, there was a girl waving her arms around aimlessly trying to gain my attention. I laughed softly before walking and sitting down next to her. It seemed she had been here for hours with how she kept her space. Papers spewed all across with scribbled down notes that was barely even legible, colored pens in a mixed mess with her other writing supplies. It made you wonder how she had even made it to college. 

“I see you’ve been hard at work, Rhya.” I set my slightly heavy bag down and started attempting to clean up the vast sums of paper all over the desk and try to keep her notes in order. 

“Yeah well, not everyone can be all neat and tidy as you are.” She lightly elbowed me before grabbing the stack of papers in my hand and shoving them in a folder. I guess she was going to re-do them after all. Either that or she didn’t need them. Despite this being primarily a nursing and health school, Rhya was in the art department. Of course she had to take the core classes along with her own elective, but she plans on becoming a graphic designer. 

“It’s not my fault I know how to study and you don’t.” I joked around, watching her pull out her computer and grab a few empty pages on notebook paper and her calculus book. 

“And it’s not my fault you don’t know how to have any fun.” She stuck her tongue out playfully before pulling up a practice test. 

“Hey I know how to have fun, just not when I know I have better things to worry about.” She solved the first problem right, pumping her fist up in the air as she wrote down the question and highlighted everything she needed to do. I’m also guessing she planned to study whatever notes she was making. 

“I guess you have a point. How’s that psychology major coming along?” She had asked, writing down the problem and attempting to solve it. I sighed, pointing to the number she was missing, “You square root that,” Rhya groaned, “It’s going good. We have some kind of weird meeting later today though.” 

“Oh? Do you know what about?” Rhya asked, but I could tell she was hiding something from me. She knew something. 

“No. Do you?” I skeptically looked at her, earning a side eye right back as she had paused her writing for a moment. 

“Would you believe me if I said no?” She grumbled, I shook my head, a slight smile forming on my face. She knew I would win this argument. 

“Okay well, this might not be true, but I heard that a few psychology students were chosen to have a training. Like, the real deal kind of thing. Size shifter and all. That the ones chosen were supposed to act like one of those special therapists.” My heart nearly skipped a beat at the news. Where did she even hear this from in the first place? There’s no way that’s even real. 

“You’re kidding, right?” I laughed nervously. Even if it was true, I doubt they’d choose a sophomore. I’ve only really had a few practices and I still have a couple more years until I become the real deal. 

“Would I lie to you?” She turned to me, a worried look on her face. Did she think I would have to go through with that? I sincerely doubt it. There was no way they’d put me on whatever list they have going on. Maybe my upperclassman though. They could choose Chelsey, she was really good with everyone and a senior. They’d most likely choose her. Maybe even Ryan since he was really experienced. Actually, he was a size shifter himself, but he’s so good at controlling his emotions that he doesn’t even need to worry about accidentally shooting up a couple feet. 

“Ah, it doesn’t matter. I doubt they choose someone with barely any experience. Don't’ worry about it.” I smiled, pointing back to Rhya’s computer to tell her that she needed to get to studying and stop worrying about me. Seriously, she really needed to study otherwise she was going to fail. I can almost guarantee that she’ll be crying to me later when she fails her test. Not my fault she doesn’t study. 

——————

The gym was a large space, but our entire class only took up one tiny portion of the bleacher space as our instructor and several other people dressed up in fancy suits were talking on the ground. I sat next to Ryan, who was playing with the green-colored band on his wrist, showing that he was in one of the five classes of size shifters. Purple represented that they could shrink down to an inch or maybe even smaller if their emotions had the better of them. Blue represented that they could shrink too, but not as much as the one’s with a purple wrist. Green represented that they could both shrink and grow, but only to a certain height. Yellow meant that the shifter could grow to be the size of about a small building, or maybe even a little more depending on how they’re feeling. Red was by far the worst one. To me at least. The shifter’s with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Which was why all shifters with a red band were all forced to be with a specialized therapist for only them. Because if they lose control of their emotions, it could end pretty badly.  

“I’m glad you all saw the announcement on the board. I’m a little surprised really.” Mr. Smith shoved his hands in his front pant pockets, taking a look at all of us before his eyes laid on me, smiling warmly. Why? Something was up. 

“These two gentlemen here are the head of the SSU. Also known as the company that helps size shifters in need. Recently, there has been a shortage of individuals that are willing to work with shifters in helping them control themselves. These two are on the look for candidates-in-training to help fill those missing spots.” 

The two men in suits walked to the front, holding out a clipboard. Those had whoever was going to be picked for this. But why this school? There was another college not too far from here. They could choose from them. Unless they were, and the “tiny” shortage was actually a big one. Or… no. They wouldn’t do that, right? It’s the SSU, they’ve literally helped the world become safer for decades. They wouldn’t be doing an experiment, would they? 

“It’s wonderful to see all sixty-two of you young scholars gathered here today. As your professor already said, we are both from the head office at SSU looking for the best of the best to fill in those empty spots, regardless if you do or don’t have any experience.” That last part made a shiver run down my spine. Ryan turned his head to me, patting me on the back. There was no way they’d choose a nobody like me. No way in hell. 

“This list contains twenty of you who will be taking part in this. You will be in charge of taking care of your designated partner until we can find a professional replacement suited well enough to take over. If I call your name, please stay behind after we dismiss everyone.” The tall man smiled, looking down at the clipboard and calling several names. The anxiety pricked my skin like icicle shards, it had almost seemed like the man reading off names was speaking in slow motion. A few deep breaths, and it was back to normal. 

“Ryan Wright.” He smiled while earning several compliments and congratulations from his fellow classmates. 

“Chelsey Torres.” She giggled a few seats away from us. 

“And Liam Rover.” 

My muscles tensed up at the mention of my name. I couldn’t tell if my heart had stopped or if it was just beating horrifyingly fast. I could tell people were trying to praise me, but I couldn’t hear, their appraisal only reaching my ears in a muffled and slow manner. I managed the most sincere smile I could while trying to hide how much I was trembling. Maybe this would be okay? Maybe I’ll be lucky and not be paired up with a shifter who could potentially crush me between two if their fingers if they really wished to. Was the room cold or was it just me? 

“Everyone else may head to their dorms. Thank you for coming.” 

After everyone had filed out of the empty gym, the other shorter man dressed in an identical suit as the taller one started calling out our names all over again, handing them a red folder with presumedly the shifter we’ll be assigned. Was this how it was when you’re actually a professional? You just get assigned to one? You don’t get to know them or anything? 

Once I was handed my folder, I dreaded every single second of opening it. Please let it be easy, please let it be easy, please let it be eas-

Oh. 

It was only a picture of who we were partnered up with and anything that might be worth mentioning about them. Wow was I overreacting. Then again, that didn’t exactly smoothen out the anxiety that was still pricking at my skin. Though, this shifter didn’t seem so bad. If anything, he actually looked pretty nice. The only thing I had noticed was that he was diagnosed with depression. He kind of looked like it too if I were being honest. It seemed hard for him to smile for the picture. Why did I also get the hint that he wasn’t feeling very good either? I guess I’ll find out when we officially meet. 

“Inside you’ll find who your partner will be for the foreseeable future. You’ll still be coming to your classes, which was why we mainly wanted to stick with the upperclassmen, and afterward go back to where we are currently housing your designated shifter. You have three days to pack everything you need and want, and you’ll soon be living off campus. Just think of it was having a roommate that needs constant supervision.” 

Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. I’m almost entirely confident that this shifter won’t really be a big deal. I mean, he looks about a year or two younger than me. So he just graduated high school? Agh, I have no idea. I’m just jumping to conclusions. But, hopefully they won’t make me handle anything crazy. That I can’t do. 

——————

They were driving me across the city to go meet up with the shifter I’ll be taking care of for however long. For all I know it could be a few days or weeks. I would think someone would want to step up for the job instead of letting students do this, but I guess not. Chelsey and Ryan have texted me a few times that they were getting settled in already while I was still heading over. It was already around thirty minutes just to get across the place, so that means I’ll have to take a bus almost everyday just to make it to my classes. That’s just great, but I’m in no position to complain. I actually tried talking with Professor Smith about it, but he told me that he had no say in the matter at all, which was weird. I doubt he would want his younger students to even take part in this. 

Along the streets were the many, many buildings that both accommodated for humans and their much larger or smaller companions. Although I’ve only ever been around Ryan about twice when he’s giant, it really wasn’t that bad. He can only grow till someone was like the height if his entire hand so it really wasn’t even that bad. Of course it’s still nerve-racking, but I trust him. Plus, we were at a small party with our little friend group. I doubt he could even bring himself to hurt someone. So really I wasn’t too worried. The only other shifter I’ve been around is an old high school friend of mine, but she goes to a different college now. 

Hundred of houses passed by us as we drove into a little neighborhood. What really made me worried was that the driver wasn’t exactly stopping at the normal-sized houses. Where was he going? I watched grimly as some of the huge houses we passed by came to a halt to one on the very end of one of the many streets. This one wasn’t as big as the other one’s down the street, but it wasn’t exactly small either. At least to me. So… I was paired up with a shifter who could only grow. That’s great. Just… great. 

I grabbed my bag and the small suitcase I had brought with me that was just full of my clothes and some stuff for school. Well if I’m supposed to stay here almost all of the time now I have to find something to keep me busy. And apparently from the immense size difference that will be between my new roommate and I. Of course I was terrified! If he really is diagnosed with depression and was a shifter who grew that only made matters worse for me. I hope whoever plans to take over for me does it soon. 

It took me and the driver to reach the doorstep, but eventually the driver gave it a knock. I swear I could hear some mumbling coming from the other side, but I didn’t dwell too much on that. Most.y because the extremely large door started to open slowly, but I saw no one on the other side. Maybe he was shy? 

“Well I may take my leave, though I have been ordered to tell you that a bus comes in the morning at around 6 just down the street from here, and another will take you back here around 5 and 8. Also, if anything goes wrong, to call this number on your phone.” He handed me a folded slip of paper, then took his leave. I shoved the slip in my pocket, hesitantly taking a few steps into the huge house. 

It was neatly cleaned around the place, though I couldn’t really see from my view on the ground. Everything around me was huge. I mean I’ve been to one of the rooms on the bigger side of the campus, but those rooms were smaller. It’s not an entire house filled with furniture. 

As I took a few steps out more, I jumped when the door had lightly closed behind me. My eyes trailed up and up, finding the face of the person I had seen in the picture. His eyes grew wide when I met his gaze, then bit the bottom of his lip before sliding his back against the wall behind him. 

Everything in my body told me to run, but if I did then I would only get scolded for it later. This isn’t even what I wanted to be! I wanted to be a normal therapist that helps regular adults and kids feel better. Not a human who could easily trap me in a fist and just kill me. I would have been fine if they could only shrink, but this was much worse. 

I faced down, taking a few deep breaths that barely even help me in this situation. I had to take care of someone fifty times my own size? How was that even possible? There weren’t even any smaller sized things around this place. Nothing that could help me get around easier either! 

I guess I could attempt to get his name. I mean, nothing could go wrong then, right? Just maybe from a distance… even if he could, at any point in time, just grab me whenever he so wanted. I felt sick just thinking about being held. Wouldn’t I have to be though? I can’t exactly just climb everywhere I want to go. 

“H-hi. Um, I’m Liam.” I forced myself to walk closer, even under his gaze, but I stopped walking closer when he moved himself further in the corner, looking a bit saddened. He probably knew I was scared. Maybe. I hope I’m some-what hiding it well enough. Though, I’ve never really been that good at it. 

“Oh, um, C-Casper. You can call me Cas if you want.” He kept his voice to a very quiet whisper. So he knew that if he talked too loud it would hurt my ears. At least he’s self-aware. Though, I couldn’t help but feel bad. I may be utterly terrified of him, but I mean he hasn’t really given me a reason to be truly scared, yet. 

“Nice to m-meet you, Cas.” I put on my best fake genuine smile. What? Have to find some way to convince him I wasn’t scared. Even if my body was trembling like crazy and my heart threatened to just come right out of my mouth. 

“Y-you too, sir.” His hand slightly twitched, but he just shook his head, giving me a sad look. ‘Sir?’ Why did he call me that? I didn’t dwell on it. Instead, I turned to look at the place, not finding a place to put my stuff. I sighed, hurrying to place it up against the wall opposite of Cas. This would be fine. Yeah, yeah. 

Casper, overall, seemed pretty nice. He had a black, messy hair that complimented his light-brown eyes. He wore a baggy long-sleeve shirt with a pair of jeans I have no idea why he was just wearing jeans in his own house, but it’s whatever he wants to do. Not my place to comment. The only real thing that caught my attention were the light bags in his eyes. Has he been sleeping? 

“Did you want to come here? Like, willingly?” He had asked, slightly leaning a little closer to my spot in the middle of the floor. I admit, it made me a little uneasy, but I don’t think he realized it. It just made it really hard to answer his question when all I could think about was how easily he could kill me right now. He wouldn’t do that, right? He seems so nice. Even if I’m barely two inches to him and I could easily just be crushed or accidentally killed if he wasn’t being too mindful. I shuddered at the thought, but forced my voice to work with me. 

“I-I’m just a student at a college. They just told us we were going to help out shifters, for like, real-world training I guess.” I started speaking a little fast and I could hear my voice slowly get quieter the more Cas seemed to lower his body to me. I felt so small compared to him. It’s overwhelming really, but it’s not like I can just back out. I already asked and they said if I did then I wasn’t cut out to stay in the classes. Seriously, all I wanted was to either be a therapist or a social worker. Not take on these huge responsibilities of making sure an entire living being is doing okay and doesn’t have any malicious intent to just… Aghhhh. 

“Oh. Well, I’m not exactly the best person to be paired up with.” He laughed sadly, holding up his wrist and revealing a red band. A little squeak left my mouth as I stood in place, practically frozen in fear. Why did they pair me up with him? They gave me more than I can handle. There was no way I could do this. I bit the side of my cheek, struggling to keep my composure. 

Cas caught onto my fear, scooting as far away from me as he could while making sure I wouldn’t freak out. Why did he move away? I was going to be fine. I think- But I was okay. Just as long as I keep a certain distance from him for a while. It takes me a long time to adjust to new things, and this might take me a while, but I couldn’t just do nothing. It was obvious to me that Cas was afraid of something, I just couldn’t figure out what just yet. 

“I’m fine, Cas, I promise.” I nervously smiled, hiding how terrified I was. Shifters with a red band can grow to heights you could only dream of. Great. Seriously, what have they done? They think I can handle someone who already looks like he’s struggling to keep himself together just by meeting me? I didn’t really want to find out what would happen if he doesn’t contain his emotions. Was there a person partnered up with him before? I knew I wasn’t going to be getting any answers, but there was no harm in asking them. 

“O-Okay,” He whispered, getting in a more comfortable sitting position, “Are you sure though? I don’t mind giving you an hour or two to get used to… everything.” He looked away for a second, and I could tell something was on his mind. Along with the constant moving away every time I had tried to walk closer, or when he knew I was scared of him, I would think to say that he’s scared of himself. Or, at least hurting other people. It makes sense actually. I’ve heard stories that a lot of shifters realize that they can really hurt people and just try their hardest not to interact with people smaller than themselves. It’s like they collapse on themselves since they don’t want to hurt anyone. I guess Cas and I weren’t so different. 

“Okay, look, it’s obvious that you’re more afraid of yourself than I am of you,” Cas’s eyes widened, “How about we both try to help each other out? I’ll keep trying if you do.” I held out my hand without thinking. A compromise between the two of us. I know we both met like five minutes ago, but I’m pretty sharp for people my age with little experience. But, honestly, maybe this wasn’t so bad. I think all that Cas wanted was the relief that he won’t hurt people. Or something like that. 

“You’d go through with all that? I’m not exactly mentally stable.” I could tell that he was worried, but I just nodded my head, a genuine smile on my face that I hoped he could see. 

He eyed my hand for a while, and I still hadn’t realized what was wrong until he lightly pinched my hand between the tip of his pointer and thumb, barely even lifting it up and down for my own sake. Oh he has no idea how scared I was right now, but he didn’t have to know that. Just a little more pressure and he could just yank my arm right off-I shook that thought away. Don’t think about that right now. It would be okay. Just as long as I get an idea of what to do when he does eventually lose control or something. I had zero idea. I think the thought that stuck in the back of my mind was making me more worried than anything really. I’m just a stress toy for him. But I’ll just have to get over my fear. There was no way I would let this stop me from graduating. Not in a million years.

——————

Sorry for a slightly boring chapter! I did a LOT of world building for this one, and had to map out almost every single interaction through the course of the entire story plot. There also wasn’t much g/t but again, it’s just an introduction chapter. (I’m doing what I love and no one can stop me hehehe-)

But I hope you enjoyed reading! I promise the second chapter will have a much, much better g/t interaction. (Oh trust me it will >:3) I hope you all have a great day/night!

[profounddefendorcrusade-blog]

In Defense Of Ceroba

Even though I'm still probably the biggest Starlo apologist you've seen, I wanna talk about Ceroba today. Particularly, my initial and current thoughts on her (but also why she works as a deeply flawed and tragic character).

Anyway, here we go.

Ceroba wasn't a character I liked at first. It wasn't dislike or hatred I felt for her, but rather... not much, if anything. She simply didn't catch my attention like Starlo did, with his larger-than-life personality. Ceroba wasn't like that. She wasn't in the spotlight, she seemed calm and level-headed, sarcastic and easily annoyed with the Five's nonsense, but also kinda just.... there, in contrast to the more 'cartoonish' Starlo.

you can clearly see who the goofy one is

Heck, I was so focused on NOT wanting to get to know and understand Ceroba that I payed little to no attention to her, even in the Steamworks, which was her section as well as Axis'. I completely forgot about the talk option too, so I missed on a lot during my first playthrough. I didn't even laugh at her sarcastic comebacks (that I find funny now, as you can see in my post titled 'Ceroba's sarcasm is growing on me').

And when I found out Ceroba injected Kanako... let's just say she became my least favorite character. I didn't understand why she had done it. It seemed like a poor writing choice not to have Kanako get her paws on the serum and inject herself. Ceroba actively going against her husband's last wish and being the cause of her kid falling down left a bad taste in my mouth.

Only later did I finally put the pieces together.

Ceroba was depressed. Like, really REALLY depressed. So depressed, in fact, that she became blunt with her choice of words when it came to the Starlo situation and unaware of his troubles/the fact he was trying to help her out of the rut. Ceroba was clearly way harsher towards him than she used to be before all the tragedy struck (but said she was sorry)

Starlo describes her as compassionate and hard-working (and they've been friends for a long time, so he must know). Or at least, that was who she was before all the sadness turned her into a shell of her former self.

Now, Chujin... oh, Chujin.

Chujin meant a lot to Ceroba and that is very clear. From her blindly following his legacy even after his death, to accepting to kill Clover (someone she had grown to respect) with tears in her eyes.

If you ask me, it wasn't Ceroba's cold, sarcastic, gloomy heart that destroyed her. Quite the opposite. It was love. More specifically, her love for Chujin.

I would, without an ounce of doubt, call this fox romantic and emotional. Someone who loves hard and deep. Someone who trusted him, her love, so blindly that she never suspected Chujin was up to anything suspicious. And when he was stripped away from her, it hurt so much. She even blamed herself for not noticing. It's sad.

So... why inject Kanako, something Chujin didn't want her to do? Simple. Because of her major character flaw: stubbornness.

See, Ceroba had refused at first. But the line that got her to change her mind was this:

Ceroba, still in emotional distress and not thinking clearly (much like Starlo), trusted her heart and not her head. And her heart was telling her that Chujin, wherever his soul was, would be proud of her for fulfilling his dream. Making his legacy come true. Saving monsterkind was a bonus, but I believe the main, true motivation here was honoring Chujin and what he wanted to accomplish for monsterkind. And so, instead of focusing on remaining a good parent to her only child, Ceroba chose her husband. She chose something greater that he believed in.

Ceroba loves Kanako, don't get me wrong. She remembers how Kanako and Starlo would watch westerns together, how Kanako would play with brick toys when she was younger, she says how her love for her could be enough to shatter the barrier. She'd tuck her in every night. She promised she'd be safe during the extraction. The two hugged tight and said 'I love you.' All signs point towards Kanako receiving a lot of love from her mother. She even made a drawing of the three of them, and this picture on the right says it all:

Chujin, too, loved his daughter, and I believe this love for her was more prominent before the attack (he even gave her the chance to play video games in her room, how cool is that?). He, too, like Ceroba, prioritzed the wrong things. Instead of making sure Kanako was alright, he made Axis chase after the human and didn't stay to comfort her. He was so focused on the prejudice towards humans (he believed Integrity would have 'continued the crusade' and it hadn't just been fear or self-defense that made them attack) that he forgot that the safety of his child and helping Dalv was far more important.

But Chujin... Ceroba can't even look at her own daughter without being reminded of him:

Ceroba talks about Chujin a lot.

Even though Ceroba messed up badly by injecting Kanako, not paying more attention to what Chujin had been doing, manipulating Clover and the Feisty Five, wanting to kill Clover so she'd save Kanako and monsterkind (notice how she is so blinded that, even as she talks about Kanako, it seems like she sees her as a tool for finishing what Chujin wanted, ACCORDING TO CEROBA. In reality, the man just wanted Kanako to be happy and for her to stay out of all this),

and almost killing Starlo and Martlet, she acknowledged her situation and later admitted that she was wrong. The reason Clover hugged her and forgave her easily was because Clover is like that. Completely altruistic. Starlo and Martlet are sweethearts, too. All three have good hearts and lots of empathy and understanding. And, me, personally? Instead of it putting me off...

...I find it admirable.

[umilily]

Today: Does everyone hate me or do I just need to go to sleep, but I got some sleep already.

[dollfaced-erin]

𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)

PART 13

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12

A/n : -

HI IM BACKKKKK sorry for disappearing so suddenly, i bet yall have been waiting and i am so so SO sorryyyy. Life news ! : I am a university student now ! I was seriously gonna update last week, but orientation week was EFFING HELL (like who tf sends me to sleep at 1, and then wake up at 5. not to mention the LINE TO THE SHOWERS-- anyways, now that things are a little more stable now, i should be updating again ! thank you for waiting and being so patient my beloveds ! Here is a little more lore dump before we get on with the main story !! I'll update that in a few days, i promise...i'm so sorry ;;-;;

Taglist : -

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading , @matsulovesyou, @sincerely-aaronette , @prettyliliy , @chibiduck , @hermosacolibri , @la-diablas-thingz , @farelady-fate , @everi-eve , @shadowfoxey , @helloyuki , @immahuman

"Lady (Y/n)...a-are you alright ?" the master diviner asked the dragon woman before her, eyes wide with concern and confusion.

"Wh...what happened...I...I don't remember what happened..." the legendary woman asked, looking at Fu Xuan with the same emotion swirling in her (e/c) eyes.

What was it that she had just witnessed earlier ? Why did she feel like something was missing from her...?

Something was indeed stolen from her.

"Lady (Y/n)...you...once you entered the Matrix of Prescience, I...I lost all connection to you. I couldn't reach your consciousness. It was as if something was in my place, watching over you instead. It blocked me out and..."

"And when I regained hold of the true reality, you and I are here, staring at each other..." Fu Xuan said, looking fearful and confused.

This wasn't something she had ever confronted before, not even past all those centuries of learning, studying, foreseeing and foretelling.

"Did you...see something...?"

"Perhaps...the Ambrosial Arbor's resurrection and the Stellaron contamination is hazing up the sea of ancient tales..."

Ambrosial....Arbor...

Stellaron...Contamination...

"My Lady ! Get back ! The infestation of the Plagues Author is overwhelming and will be breaching our ranks ! We must retreat !" called out a distant voice.

"Wh-what...?" (Y/n) muttered, feeling a blunt thumping in her head.

"No ! I mustn't hide ! He hasn't returned yet ! I must find him ! He needs me !" a familiar voice screamed out, pure terror and fear heard in her quivering voice.

The dragon lady stumbled backwards, finding it even hard to get a grasp of reality, much less balancing herself on her two feet. Her hand was put to her head, fingers digging into her head as she grimaced and winced. Eyes closed, as her ears blocked out all other noise.

"Lady Dan Jia !"

'Where...am I...?'

As she opened her eyes...she was in the dark, sinking further and further into the unknown. The darkness that engulfed her was cold, wet, and lonely...

Her tired (e/c) eyes only looked up, breaths escaping her lips forming bubbles of air varying in size and density. Her body felt heavy, head no longer pounding, as she submitted her fate to the deep unknown.

"No ! Why didn't it work ?! Why isn't she waking up !" a distraught voice screamed out through the sound of pattering rain.

It was as if a void had ripped through the space of unknown, bright light of the gloomy sky displayed before her. There was a horned man, dark brown hair shining with wetness from the rain as he held a figure tightly in his arms.

"No, no, no ! This wasn't supposed to happen ! She was supposed to survive, and she would wake up ! Why isn't she waking up ?!" the voice screamed desperately as he held the body close to his chest, tears running down his cheeks.

"Dan Jia ! D-Dan...Dan Jia ! Wake up ! Y-you were meant to awake after taking the heart ! Y-you weren't supposed to still be tied to the heart ! Why did you tie yourself to it ?!"

"Dan Jia..."

"My beloved sister..."

"Wake up...please..."

"Please...I beg you..."

"Open your eyes, sister..."

"I'm sorry..."

Tears escaped (Y/n)'s eyes as she watched the display of tragic love of siblings being displayed in front of her. The cries of Dan Feng as he cradled his sister in his arms pierced through the sound of rain.

"Now...I have no one..." the man said woefully.

"I betrayed you...I used Yingxing...I took advantage of your love towards your soulmate...I took advantage of your care to me...I took advantage of his devotion to you and his loyalty to me..."

"I had him bait you into stripping you of the Heart... our plan failed and she...she turned into a monstrosity. Because you weren't ready to give up the heart, not all power was surrendered to her...not all our authority was given to her..."

"Why...why did I force it from you...? Why did I have Yingxing bait you here ? Because I knew... you would never go against the Unpardonable Sins, if it wasn't Yingxing that wilted to the ground had his time come..."

"But now..."

Before she could hear more, the vision of the previous High Elder cradling his sister in his arms faded before her.

"Let me see her one more time..." a voice whispered, feeling defeated, relishing all hold of his fate to those who held him tight in their hold.

"Dan feng..." the slow lazy voice (Y/n) had recognized almost immediately.

"I said let me see her one more time !" The man roared, chains that held him down clashing and clanging as he refuted, his tail smashing wildly. Shackles that held him down was not spared a single glance. His skin was marred and raw from the friction, but he cared not.

All he craved for was a final glimpse of his sister, and he would go through the molting rebirth. He didn't care what they did to him. he didn't care what would happen to him after.

"Please...Jing Yuan....let me see my sister for the last time...I beg you..." the High Elder begged.

For the arrogant, high and might High Elder Imbibator Lunae to beg, kneeling on the ground by the feet of the current general of the Luofu...

"I was going to let you see her anyway. You deserve to see her one last time, at least." Jing Yuan replied, kneeling down to the level of his friend.

"Sister..." she heard as the rift before her dissipated just as the first vision did.

In that motionless space of time, she felt warm arms creeping from behind. They meant her no hostility, and she reacted not as they wrapped around her form, pulling her down. Her back then came into contact with another surface, warm and breathing, comforting and beating. Another chest.

"I'm...not her..." was the first thing that escaped her lips in that void.

"Dan Jia..." the voice replied again.

"Let me go."

And before her was the man she's been seeing constantly in her dreams. Though he wasn't real...

The man before her was a handsome man, even more so now that he was standing before her. His long brown hair flowed, his teal horns perched on his head glowing as brightly as his lustrous teal eyes. His expression was serious, without an ounce of regret that she had now addressed herself by a different name as he stood before her a few feet away.

"You are indeed still Dan Jia. You have the same face and voice, a voice I yearn to hear since you left. Yet your power...your memories...you--"

"I told you, I am not HER !" the woman screamed, hands to her heart as she screamed her lungs out, denying all the claims the man before her had spread out to the table.

"What makes you so sure that you aren't her ?"

"She may be my past..." (Y/n) said, her fan appearing in her hand.

The woman began running towards the man before her, her fan materializing in her hand.

"But she wont lead my future !"

"Ignorant." he replied, a spear forming in his hands, familiar to her eyes. But she knew it wasn't her own eyes. It was Dan Jia's.

With strength and fury running through her veins, she parried all the attacks struck by the man before her. Sparks flew from the collisions, as (Y/n) controlled her fan in her hand, sending strikes, even using telepathy and magic to control the weapon out of her hands.

The man never faltered, letting out his own lines of sorrow and reminiscence. He attacked back the woman before him, eyes clouded but expression stern.

"Your attacks are the same as hers. Your moves, your stance...it's all hers ! " He exclaimed, grabbing his spear and swinging it in her direction. "You are her ! Dan Jia !"

Suddenly the man launched up two fingers straight up. And (Y/n) gasped, feeling a tremendous amount of pain pierce her. Spears of water impaled her body, hooking her and pulling her down to the depths of the deep dark sea.

(Y/n) gasped and screamed, hands failing to try prevent herself from descending deeper into the water, familiar pain coursing through her veins. The sensation of her skin torn, her muscle and meat being torn out from her back and chest....

And the heart. The source of her power.

Or rather the lack of it.

Tears pricked her eyes as she endured the pain, her screams forming bubbles that drifted up to the surface who knows how many feet above her.

Phantom pain that coursed through her body caused her breathing to hitch, even when there was nothing at all that had even done so much as dented her skin, not even those spears.

All of that was just deep memories...

Memories...

Of Dan Jia...and her past.

Her smiles...her laughs...her dances...

Her joys and her sorrows...

And all those people appeared in her mind. Baiheng...Jingliu...Jing Yuan...Yingxing...

Where did all of them go...?

She couldn't think anymore...so she closed her eyes and let herself fall deeper and deeper.

"(Y/n), my princess..." the warm lazy voice of the man that had taken care of her since she awoke resounding loudly.

Her eyes opened to meet a vision of Jing Yuan as he helped her out of the starskiff, a warm and lazy smile playing on his lips, emotions swirling in his honey gold eyes.

But other people relapsed her mind as she reached out her hand to the man before her.

Bailu...Yanqing...Blade...Jing Yuan...

"(Y/n)..." the husky voice of the man she holds dear called out. Strong arms wrapped her figure from behind, as a head landed on her shoulder. She closed her eyes to bask in the feeling of his arms that held her close.

She was like them. Like Blade and Jing Yuan.

Blade who is just a shell of his former self and a living weapon that lives in Yingxing's shadow.

Jing Yuan who had lived for hundreds of years, but still living on no matter how much burden he had to shoulder since he was young.

(Y/n) is like them. A person who lives in the shadow of her former self, yet carries the burden, pain and memories of the person she no longer was.

Visions of her past self and current self began to surge into her, reminding her of who she once was, reminding her of who she is. The pain that surged her body was proof enough that she was still who she was trying to run from.

What Dan Feng is saying has some truth to it. But he was wrong.

She was indeed Dan Jia... but she is (Y/n) as well.

"You...killed me once..." she whispered, feeling determination consume her fragile and pure soul as she opened her eyes, bright (e/c) eyes that ebbed with the shine of a Vidyadhara High Elder.

"You took my power...and my lover..." she said, voice growing stronger as her hands as she began to channel as much energy into her arms, trying to rise to the surface.

"So don't get in the way of my future !" She screamed, powering through the pain that pulsed through her body, overcoming the suffering that kept her awake with the new resolution.

The water around her burst, releasing her from its cold and harsh conditions. Her horns and tail shone brightly alongside the power that seeped from the vibrancy of her eyes. Her fan appeared once again in her hand, and the faint tingling from the windchime earring on her right ear reminded her of herself.

Chains came up from the ground, shackling her in place, just as she had seen in her visions. Dan Feng chained down to the ground, in the shackling prison, alone and cold.

"You will pay for the sights and visions you have seen. For you and me are one of the same heart. One of the same power. One of the same High elder of the Luofu."

"I will not atone for this sins you have committed ! I refuse to be subjected to a life I did not lead myself into ! And you shouldn't let him suffer either !" she said as she pulled at the chains.

"You have nowhere to run." The man before her said.

"But I have someplace to return !" She declared back, swinging her fan powerfully as the water bent to her command, breaking the chains beneath her.

The man before her looked stunned, his long brown hair flowing freely before a warm, unfamiliar smile graced his lips. The woman before him was still as fragile as ever. Kind and gentle, as her attacks never meant to land a hit on him at all.

It was still his sister that was standing before him. All grown up. Independent.

The dragon woman before him was still fearful of him, and he didn't blame her. After all, he had caused her demise of the past...involving her without consent, with consequences spiraling out of his power.

"Very well...lead a life you would regret the least..." the dragon man before her said.

"But remember...the pain that you bring with you upon obtaining these memories and power shall be yours alone to handle."

"For blood runs thicker than water."

"She's awake ! Hurry, get the Master Diviner ! The Imbibator Saltator has awoke !" Said a bright and familiar voice.

As (Y/n) opened her eyes, she was met with the worried eyes of the current High Elder of the Vidyadhara. But for some reason...she felt particularly close to this...girl.

"Are you alright ? Try not to stress yourself out too much. You've been through a lot..." The dragon lady said.

The way her turquoise eyes shone brightly with mischief and childish delight...the way her purple hair flowed freely behind her as she ran around. The way she called (Y/n)'s name so gently and carefully.

"Baiheng...?" She said, letting the name slip past her lips without her realizing.

"No...sorry...Miss...Bailu. I let a slip of tongue a moment there..." she said, shaking her head softly as she tried to sit up.

"No, it's alright. I understand that you can still be a little disoriented !" Bailu said, brightly, handing her a cup of Immortal's Delight.

Why did she feel so...close to Bailu...?

Why...did she call Bailu...Baiheng...?

Then it hit her.

She never knew what happened to Baiheng.

She wondered what had transpired once she had been subdued to a cold and deep slumber for a couple hundred years...

But she for sure couldn't see Blade and Dan Feng's reincarnation the same way ever again...

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Maybeeee it's the beginning of summer, Donna and reader are sitting on the porch. Reader asks Donna about her nationality, Donna says how much she would like to go to Italy, but she is grounded in this place. A few days later, reader announced that she had bought a few Italian movies and vinyl records from duke. One day, the reader finds Donna crying while listening to her favorite Italian song…

Please give Donna some comfort!!!

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

Take me home

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, hurt & comfort, Donna being Donna

Word count: 6,209

Summary: You want her to feel happy, to remember her childhood. Maybe it's not such a good idea...

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

With a sigh, you plopped down on one of the chairs on the porch. The weather had improved considerably, since that kind of illusion known as summer would soon begin. Yes, it could only be a couple of days in which the cold of Romania was not so terrible and the sun gave a bit of its heat to melt the white landscape, but for you, it was the best time of the year.

The village was gloomy, sinister, like a constant reminder that all the people who lived there were prisoners of the same darkness. Like an undiscovered island or a lost place in a remote jungle, your existence was nothing but a myth, a legend to anyone not born there.

The darkness, Mother Miranda, the Lords... Everything around you formed the false sense of protection that kept its inhabitants oblivious to the outside world.

You might not have settled for that kind of life, you were always a little more restless than the rest of the people your age. But that restlessness, those whishes to improve your life, even if they were just fantasies, ended the day your tasks as a farmer took you beyond the forest, to discover one of the villagers' common fears.

Donna Beneviento, disturbed, lonely, dark woman... She seemed to be a living legend, something that you couldn't be sure existed despite seeing her every time Mother Miranda told you how good and faithful you were.

A Lord who would probably despise any kind of human approach, or so you thought.

Emboldened by your lack of resources, you decided to cross the threshold of security and tranquility, and offer the fruit of your labor to the lady in black. You were able to return, you were able to return home, and return again and again to the mansion.

What could have caught her attention about you? You didn't know, and soon you started thinking about it at night. The nights, those thinking routines became almost necessary as time went on.

After several months of Donna being your main focus every day, you were finally able to recognize that those thoughts and deliberations were a simple reminder. You really had feelings for her.

Fortunately, the feeling became mutual and, after discovering the beauty the black veil hid, that day, the day of your first kiss, you didn’t return home, you never would.

Sitting on the porch of the old estate, you dedicated your thoughts to thinking about the multiple coincidences that led you to the point where you were, where you wanted to be.

The door opened slowly, and out came the object of your thoughts, the doll maker, carrying a tray with two glasses filled with a thick red liquid.

“Oh, Donna,” you said, waking up from your usual daydream of memories, smiling at the lady so she could do the same, so she could gladden your heart with that beautiful smile, the most beautiful in the world.

“Here tesoro, today is a hot day,” she said, with a soft, hoarse, rarely used voice, one that reached your ears like a soft melody, like a hypnotic song that made you close your eyes and simply let yourself go.

“Thank you,” you said happily, taking one of the glasses and indicating the brunette to sit next to you. Curious, you looked at the contents and moved it with a raised eyebrow. “What is this?”

“Gazpacho,” Donna responded, just after stealing a kiss from your lips, one of those improvised kisses that made you daydream. “It's like tomato juice, but a bit thicker. It is very good to fight the heat.”

You nodded and shrugged, taking a small sip and nodding pleased, with a smile.

“Delicious...” you murmured amused, sighing to relax, now next to her. “Someday you have to teach me how to make all these Italian recipes,” you whispered with a knowing voice.

Donna laughed and shook her head, drinking from her own glass.

“I'll teach you whenever you want, (Y/N), but gazpacho is not Italian,” the lady in black explained. You blinked confused. “It is a Spanish recipe.”

“Oh, Spain... The country of the sun,” you murmured curiously. The lady nodded with a smile, looking into the distance, just like you. “Well, I haven't been that wrong either, they are close.”

Donna laughed again, shaking her head, enjoying your innocent conversations, conversations that you wondered about how long they were absent in her life, how many decades Donna was only sharing her life with the sinister Angie doll.

“Yes, more or less,” she whispered, raising her eyebrows, moving her hand on the table until it reached yours.

Looking at the bright landscape around you, letting yourself be calmed by the sound of the waterfall, you closed your eyes, imagining what it would be like to be able to have that feeling for longer, to be able to enjoy a real summer, without cold, without darkness. You always dreamed of those places that seemed to have the favor of the sun, those places where happiness and light were part of the daily routine.

“It must be amazing,” you commented, letting the air that came out of your lungs betray a melancholic sigh. Donna looked at you, breaking out of her own thoughts.

“Mm?” she asked, now looking at you, continuing to caress your hand with the softness and delicacy of her fingers.

“I mean… Italy… Well, you know...” you said, finishing your glass and getting lost in the landscape again.

“It is,” she said, with a slightly more serious voice, looking away from you. You leaned forward, curiosity beginning to plague your thoughts.

“Have you ever been there? I mean, you're Italian, right?” you asked, with a higher tone, with the tone you used to let your girlfriend know you wanted to have a conversation.

Donna sighed and made a strange face, nodding slowly. A fake smile crossed her face shortly after that.

“Well, my family is Italian, I was born here,” she explained with a calm voice, with a shadow in her eye that you should have seen. “But I guess you could say so.”

You nodded, listening with curiosity to the lady's words, which were beginning to break. You were never too careful with what you said, you never stopped to think about how sensitive poor Donna was, how hurt her mind was.

“So have you ever been...?” you said amused, with a smile that you hoped would be a relaxing one. She nodded slowly, squeezing your hand tighter, leaning back in the chair.

“Yes,” she answered dryly, looking to your intertwined fingers. “My grandmother had a house in Tuscany. We used to go there in summer.”

“In summer... Well, it doesn't surprise me,” you said amused, nodding to agree with her. “Who would want to stay here in summer?”

“I guess we were lucky to be able to go out...” she murmured, with a softer voice, lower, that betrayed sadness.

“What do you mean?” you asked, shifting in your chair to hear her better. Donna sighed and shook her head, biting her lip.

“Don't you think it's strange that my family could leave this place?” she asked, looking at you out of the corner of her eye, as if she were stating an undeniable truth that you couldn't see.

“Well, now that you mention it...” you murmured, scratching the back of your neck.

It was true. No one had ever left the village. The conversation seemed to be getting interesting.

“The Beneviento family, my family, descended directly from one of the founders of the village. Years ago, Miranda's laws were not so strict, and anyone who had enough lei to pay for her approval could leave this place, with the promise of returning, of course.”

“Oh, I didn't know,” you said, blinking in confusion.

“That was many years ago...” she sighed, looking at the bottom of her empty glass, looking for something to distract herself with. “Before… Things were not so…”

“Difficult,” you finished the sentence for her, nodding at the same time, perfectly understanding the reason for her sudden sadness.

Yes, you remembered the adults talking about other times when the darkness of the village was gray and not completely black. Only the undisputed leader of the place, the Almighty Mother Miranda, knew what her reasons were for keeping you all locked up like laboratory rats.

“Well so... What was that like? Was it as idyllic as the books say?” you asked with a different tone, more informal and fun, managing to get a sincere smile from the brunette, who looked at you tenderly.

“I guess that's quite subjective,” she commented amused, with her gaze lost again, playing erratically with your hand, probably without realizing it. “For me it was… Paradise.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded interested in knowing a little more about the lady in black, a little more about the woman you wanted to spend your entire life with, about the only light that illuminated your darkness.

“Those fields, that light that entered the room in the morning... I wouldn't know how to explain it correctly, (Y/N),” she murmured, focused on her thoughts.

You sighed, disappointed at not being able to satisfy your curiosity towards the outside world. Donna cleared her throat and gripped your hand tighter, changing that veiled sadness into a wide smile and a confident look.

“Maybe I can show you,” she whispered, moving her chair closer to yours. You looked at her suspiciously but with a mischievous smile. “Close your eyes, tesoro.”

After a few seconds of small defiance, you obeyed, feeling how your other hand was also grabbed by hers, how her caresses began to cause strange sensations in your body.

The refreshing humidity of the waterfall disappeared in a few seconds, replacing the smell of the water with that of fresh grass, by the pure smell of the countryside. A beautiful landscape began to form in your mind, full of shapes, colors, and rays of sun forming golden reflections in an old house.

“Nonna, nonna!”

A little girl ran into the arms of an older woman, who picked her up with laughter and loving kisses.

“Donna, mia piccola ragazza...” the old woman sighed, turning the girl around in her arms.

“Look, nonna, this is Angie, she is my new friend,” the little girl said.

That black hair, that much more subtle scar, that look, Donna.

“Oh, ciao, Angie,” the woman said, shaking the wooden hand that Donna offered her.

“Dad made her for me,” the little girl explained, earning another shower of kisses from her grandmother.

The conversation faded and gave way to more images, more memories that entered your mind. Granddaughter and grandmother were cooking in a funny way, with almost inaudible music in the background.

“It's too high, nonna,” the girl said, jumping comically, trying to reach a cupboard in that old kitchen.

“Va bene, Donna,” answered the old woman, extending her arms to take her. “But you already know what you have to do, right?”

The girl nodded with an innocent smile.

“Sei pronto?” asked the old woman. Young Donna nodded. “Sing with me, tesoro.”

“Volare... Oh...Cantare...” they both sang while the girl rose into the air thanks to her grandmother.

Images, brief flashes of laughter, memories, running through the countryside, playing with Angie... All those memories that didn't belong to you flooded your mind, forcing you to smile at that tenderness, that innocence of poor Donna, one that you knew would end.

“What did you said?” the old woman asked, during another of those memories, one heavier, more distressing, the memory of a quiet summer dinner. “I don't think you're being serious.”

“I'm sorry, mother, but...”

“Luca, you unfortunate stronzo...” the woman protested, banging the table hard, which disturbed the rest of little Donna, who was sleeping next to Angie in a corner of that garden, tenderly covered by a blanket. “Haven't you thought about your daughter?”

“Donna is fine in the village,” the adult man responded, with a dangerous look, a look that was too familiar. “It's where she has to be.”

“You know that's not true,” the woman hissed.

“Donna is sick, mother. She doesn't interact with children her age,” the younger woman explained, with a sad look at the girl.

“Mm, maybe she is sick for living in a place like that, Bernadette,” the old woman said, stabbing her fork into the table.

“I'm not going to argue, Giovanna. Mother Miranda watches over us and protects us,” the man said, joining his hands to show respect to the Black Gods.

“Is this how you plan to take care of your daughter? Putting her in the hands of a strega?” Donna’s grandmother protested, getting up from her chair. “Donna has to be here, she is happy here.”

“Mother...” the adult woman sighed, scared by her mother's reaction.

“Do you want to keep our daughter? Good luck,” the man said, with a gruff tone, also standing up. “Come on, Bernadette, take the girl and say goodbye, we will never return to where we’re not respected…”

Like a spasm, all those shared sensations disappeared and you opened your eyes, breathing heavily. Donna was next to you, breathing the same way. After sighing, she looked down, wiping away a tear that slid down her cheek.

“Donna,” you sighed, feeling sorry for that jumble of emotions that she shared with you, a trip to her deepest memories.

“That was the last time I left the village,” she commented, looking away from you again.

“I understand,” you said, with a softer tone.

“It’s so unfair!” the lady shouted, hitting the small table with her fist, making the glasses shake dangerously, threatening to fall if you hadn't picked them up.

“Hey, hey, honey, come on, relax,” you said, holding her wrists so they wouldn't hit the table, thus preventing her from hurting herself again.

“I, I was happy there, I...” she murmured, her gaze lost again, unhinged, protesting against your grip. “I want, I want to go back but, but I can't…”

You, not knowing what to say, sighed, biting your lip, regretful for bringing to light another of her traumas.

“Please, Donna, don’t, don't cry,” you stammered.

“I’m, I’m trapped here forever and... I will never, never be able to return to what I truly considered my home... Miranda adopted me and... Without, without knowing it, I condemned myself and...”

“Shhh, come on, come on, everything is fine. You're here with me, Donna, I'm here with you. This is our home, the place where you and I are,” you said with a soft voice.

She closed her eye and breathed deeply, calming her dementia, even if it was just for a moment.

“I'm, I'm sorry, (Y/N),” she whispered, turning away from your comfort and standing up from the chair. “I'm going, I'm going to pick this up.”

“Wait, wait, Donna, please,” you said in a low voice, unable to prevent the lady from disappearing from the place. Frustrated, you huffed, crossing your arms. “Donna…”

“Hey! You!” A shrill voice interrupted that tense moment. If nothing else was missing to make you nervous...

Angie, the sinister doll, now alive, was comically walking towards you, climbing up the chair.

“My Donna doesn't want to talk to me, you made her cry again!” she rebuked you, placing her wooden hand on your face, a hand you abruptly moved away, with an annoyed growl.

“It wasn't on purpose,” you protested, trying to ignore the doll's accusations.

“It's never on purpose, stupid, stupid,” Angie said, with a mocking tone. “But my Donna always ends up crying and what a coincidence, you are always around.”

You squeezed your eyes with your fingers and shook your head, looking again at the landscape in front of you, now devoid of the sun's rays. As if the weather itself were related to Donna's feelings, a few fine drops of rain spoiled that pleasant summer afternoon.

“Great,” you lamented, burying your hands in your face, hands that were separated by Angie's, still ready to scold you for something you hadn't done.

“Mean, (Y/N), you are mean!” the doll shouted.

“Hey, I was just… Talking,” you defended yourself awkwardly, looking at the rain in frustration. “I always end up screwing up things.”

“Yes, yes, it's your favorite sport,” the doll said, sitting next to you.

“Eh, what nonsense is that about not being able to leave the village? Donna isn't just any villager,” you asked, hoping the puppet knew something else about it. Donna Beneviento was a Lord, after all.

The doll shrugged.

“Miranda's laws,” she explained briefly, taking her sinister gaze away from you. “No one can leave, no matter who you are.”

“Yeah, of course, I should have imagined it...” you sighed, with a grimace of disgust. “I would like to be able to take her to Italy.”

“Italy? Impossible, impossible,” the doll said, with a screeching voice that destroyed your ears. You rolled your eyes and bit back an insult.

“I know it's impossible, damn it,” you said with a gruff voice, clenching your fists. “That's why I said, I would like to do it.”

“Silly, stupid,” Angie insulted you with a sinister laugh.

“Oh, that I want to make your Donna happy does seem silly to you?” you said, with an ironic, mocking tone.

“Make her happy? You have a curious way to do it. As far as I know, happy people don't cry,” Angie mocked, making you stand up from the chair with an angry growl.

“Do you want to shut up? Stop torturing me and…” you hissed, remaining speechless when a crazy idea crossed your mind. You spent a few seconds thinking if it was really a good idea, and you came to the conclusion that it was.

“A lycan got your tongue, stupid?” Angie asked, leaning over you unpleasantly.

“Hey, I'm thinking...” you whispered, not paying attention to the doll's unpleasant comments. “Maybe, maybe I can't take her to Italy but... What if Italy comes to her?”

“You're dumber than I thought,” the doll said, amused, shaking that sinister porcelain head.

“Whatever, I'm going to call the Duke,” you whispered, passively pushing the puppet away and entering the house again.

It might seem like Angie was right, and it was stupid, but deep in your heart it seemed like the right thing to do.

Donna will never return to that place where everything was happiness, she could never do it, and neither can you. The contradictory feeling of worshiping a megalomaniacal priestess and at the same time feeling tied to that place for all eternity was something Donna couldn't bear, something her fragile mind couldn't understand.

Unfortunately, maybe you were the one to blame for her realizing it and because of that, you wanted to redeem yourself for your unconscious actions.

The days passed calmly. Donna seemed to have forgotten that conversation, her smile had returned to her face, but not completely, there was still a hint of nostalgia and helplessness in her eye, something that you believed you were capable of making her forget.

“Have you got everything?” you asked days later, when the Duke appeared at the door of the estate with an inquisitive look, well, like he always has.

“Everything, Miss (Y/N)” the merchant said, bringing a large bag full of items to you with an agonized sigh.

You, suspicious, took a look.

“Okay...” you murmured, taking the vinyl records, the old movies that you had ordered. “I guess now comes a round of questions.”

“Yes, well,” the Duke laughed. “You don't have to answer them but…”

“But...” you repeated, crossing your arms.

“If you do it, perhaps my generous soul will be kind enough to give you a discount. What you asked me for is not easy to find, you know...” he said with an evil tone, with the tone of the unfeeling merchant that he really was.

“20%,” you said, frowning, used to negotiating with that extravagant man.

“Oh, please, I'm not charity,” he protested, rejecting your offer in a funny way. “5%”

“15% and you can ask two questions to me,” you counterattacked, making the man sigh contentedly.

“Well, why do you want this stuff?” the Duke asked, without waiting even half a second. You knew that information was his favorite money.

“I want to surprise Donna,” you answered, looking at the covers of those old vinyl records. “You know, I want to make her feel like she’s in Italy, at least for a while.”

“Oh, interesting...” the man murmured, looking for something in his carriage. “Then this will come in very handy,” he whispered, bringing you what looked like a book of Italian recipes. “There is nothing better to feel at home than a plate of warm food, don't you think?”

“Yes, of course, good idea,” you said with a smile.

“But…”

“But…” you growled, narrowing your eyes.

“I'm afraid that the discount would no longer be available and...” the Duke said, feigning disinterest.

You snorted, gritting your teeth, and tossed a bag of coins into the carriage.

“Here, you greedy fat idiot,” you said in a dark tone, but with a knowing smile on your face. The truth is you liked that man quite a bit.

“It was a pleasure to do business with you...” the merchant murmured, moving his carriage.

“Hey, wait a minute,” you said, leafing through that shiny book. “It’s written in Italian! Hey! Damn…”

Shaking your head, you walked back into the old house.

Carefully, you hid your new acquisitions, ready to go down to the kitchen and prepare dinner, something you hadn't really thought about before. But you still needed help.

“Donna and (Y/N) kiss under a tree...” Angie sang, walking through the hallways. You ran towards her, stopping the doll in her tracks.

“Hey! Angie!” you called, eliciting an annoyed growl from the doll. “I need your help.”

Luckily, the doll agreed.

“Three, no, four tablespoons of flour...” the doll read while you struggled with the package, huffing at the doll's incorrigible attitude.

“Three or four?” you asked, crossing your arms, with the heat of the kitchen preventing you from thinking clearly.

“Eight,” the doll said, amused.

“Angie…”

“Okay, okay... Two,” the puppet finally said, turning the page of that book.

You clenched the spoon in your fist and obeyed, glancing at the oven from time to time.

“What else?” you asked, adjusting the temperature.

“A bit of yeast, sugar, and two gallons of stupid (Y/N)’s juice,” Angie joked, making you wish it was the doll that was in the oven, and not that lasagna.

“How funny,” you said, shaking your head. “Do you want to do help me?”

“I'm helping you,” the doll protested.

“I'll ask it another way... Do you want your Donna to be happy with the surprise or do you want it to be a failure because of you?”

“Happy, happy,” Angie repeated effusively, jumping on the counter.

“Then shut up and keep translating,” you growled, continuing with the dough.

“Tesoro?” Donna asked, peeking through the door.

You jumped, running quickly to get her away from there.

“Hey, hey, hey, no, no, no, you can't come in,” you said amused, pushing her by her shoulders.

“Why? What are you doing?” she asked with a smile, trying to look over your shoulder.

“Cooking,” you said satisfied. Donna, as it could not be otherwise, frowned.

“You?” she asked suspiciously, with a mocking smile. You nodded triumphantly.

“Yes, me,” you said, pointing at yourself with the rolling pin. “So if you don't mind, let me work in peace.”

“But, but (Y/N)...,” Donna protested, as you pushed her down the hallway toward the doll workshop.

“Shh, silence, dolcezza just... dedicate yourself to your dolls, okay? I'll let you know when everything is ready,” you said, pushing her into the old workshop, leaving her completely confused.

“What are you up to?” she asked amused.

“Nothing...” you lied, looking up to show your lie. “Come on, come on, those dolls can’t be made themselves,” you said, kissing her quickly and forcefully sitting her on the work table, running away from the place.

Well, you weren't good with surprises, but Donna wasn't a fool.

“Higher, Angie” you ordered the doll, while you hung a flag on the wall.

“I can't get any higher, stupid,” the doll protested, jumping on a small ladder. “You are an idiot.”

“Yes, yes…” you sighed, tying that flag to a hole in the wall and climbing up to the other side. “Fine,” you said, clapping your hands, looking at how that green, white, and red flag adorned the room. “What do you think?”

“You're stupid,” Angie said, looking at the flag next to you, crossing her arms, comically imitating your posture.

“Shut up and light the candles, I'm going to get Donna,” you said, pointing to the table, which was set in a special, romantic way, with dinner steaming on it.

Before going down the elevator, you stopped for a moment, playing one of the Italian music vinyls you bought from the Duke and checking that the atmosphere was perfect.

“I can’t see anything, tesoro,” the lady protested, being guided by you, with her eye covered by your mischievous hands.

“Okay, we’re almost there,” you hummed, leaving the elevator and walking slowly next to her, with a nervous, expectant smile.

Doing a quick check that everything was perfect, you took a deep breath, releasing the brunette from your grip.

“Sorpresa,” you said with a soft voice.

Donna stood speechless, observing each and every one of the details that now adorned the living room, looking at the vinyl that was spinning tirelessly on the player, at the Italian flag you hung on the wall.

“(Y/N)... What?” she said with a broken voice, with a smile that told you had had the best idea in the world.

“I know that being in this village forever is... Well, it's horrible for you,” you explained, grabbing her waist, kissing her shoulder from behind. “But I suppose that, with a bit of imagination, we can bring the light of Italy to this place, don't you think?”

“It's... It's a wonderful gift, (Y/N),” Donna murmured, turning to kiss you quickly, gratefully, with a twinkle in her eye that you hadn't seen in a while. “Have you done this for me?”

“No, I was just bored,” you said ironically, causing a soft laugh to leave her lips. “Of course I have, Donna. Come, dinner is getting cold.”

A romantic silence invaded the old room. The sweet melody that played in the background only emphasized the happiness you could see on her face, the tender look that conquered you from the first day.

“Everything is delicious, (Y/N),” Donna commented, with that soft voice, as if she didn't want to interrupt that romantic silence with her voice. You blushed, sipping some wine.

“Don't tell Angie, but she has helped me a lot,” you whispered with amusement, giving your ears another of those tender, intoxicating laughs.

“You're such a sweetheart,” the lady whispered, holding your hand under the candle, looking at you with the love she felt, an unconditional love for the luckiest person in the entire world, for you.

“I'm just trying to make amends for my mistakes,” you commented, leaving the glass in its place and noticing the music had stopped playing. “Oh, but wait, this has only just begun…”

After that romantic dinner, the next part of your plan was carried out in the same way, in silence, a pleasant one.

You had asked the Duke for a few old movies, Italian movies to watch with Donna. As expected, emotion and tears of tenderness soon appeared on her pale face.

It was a perfect, unforgettable night.

“It was wonderful, tesoro,” she said, sobbing after entering the bedroom. “I don't know how to thank you.”

You made a dismissive gesture with your hand and smiled, hanging onto her neck.

“You can only do one thing... Make me enjoy your smile,” you whispered romantically, before capturing her lips on yours in a slow, tender kiss like no other.

“Only my smile?” the lady purred, slowly shifting towards the bed. You returned that mischievous smile, turning off the light. “Let's make this night perfect, (Y/N)”

“I agree…”

The next day, just as you had planned, everything returned to normal. The night had been the best of your life. Everything had turned out just as you had thought.

Your mind and your conscience were finally calm.

The smile returned to the lady in black, the kisses returned to your routine. It seemed like you had managed to calm that feeling, that darkness which Donna was struggling to combat with. Deep down you felt proud of being capable of such a feat, but you didn’t forget the regret in her heart was hopeless.

That same afternoon, you were reading quietly on a couch. With Donna working on her dolls and Angie having no intention of annoying you, you could finally breathe easy, congratulating yourself on your achievements with the brunette, letting love course through your body as you sighed, thinking about the night before, about everything.

Calmly, and with a smile, you hummed one of the songs that played during dinner, turning the pages of a book that only you thought you were reading.

The booming sound of the hall clock snapped you out of the bliss of your self-congratulations, forcing you to put a hand on your chest.

“Damn thing, what a scare,” you said with a smile, looking both ways to check that Angie wasn't laughing at your scary way of being, again.

But something caught your attention on the old clock hands, a slightly unusual time.

You quickly checked your wristwatch and frowned. Six o'clock in the afternoon.

Normally Donna would have been reading with you for a long time. She always dedicated a huge amount of hours to her work, but not so many anymore, not since she met you.

Strange and worried, you put the book aside and adjusted your dress, walking towards the elevator. You had a bad feeling.

As you walked through the hallways, a melody reached your ears. Music.

Ma tutti I sogni nell'alba svaniscon perché

Quando tramonta la luna li porta con sé…

“Donna?” you asked, peeking out of the doors of the workshop. There seemed to be no sign of the woman in black, at least not until you noticed a corner, where the woman was sitting with her knees on her chest, crying inconsolably. “Donna!”

You ran towards her, crouching on the floor, preventing her hands from pulling her hair while that song played impassively.

“Hey, hey, stop, don’t... Don't hurt yourself, my love,” you said, struggling with the lady, who was sobbing while she shook her head. Another crisis, one terrible crisis.

“(Y/N)...” she said with a completely broken voice, unable to stop crying.

“Yes, yes, I'm here, my beautiful Donna, come on, stop... Moving,” you said, managing to immobilize her for a moment, kneeling on the floor as well. “Hey, hey, please... Calm down...”

“Mi manca l' Italia,” the lady sighed, without stopping crying, without stopping destroying your spirit with her tears. “(Y/N)...”

A stab pierced your heart. Yes, you had made her spend a wonderful night, made her remember the origins of her family, made her feel for a moment she was not in that disgusting village.

Everything seemed perfect, it seemed that her smile had returned to her, but that was just a mirage. You had failed. you had made her remember those happy times even more, made her realize that they would never return. That song, her favorite song playing over and over again was just a reminder that you had made a big mistake.

“I... Shit,” you whispered, sitting next to her without letting her wrists go, which she moved suddenly, hitting the stone floor hard.

“Why?! Why does life have to be so cruel to me?!” she screamed uncontrollably, forcing you to use more strength, checking her hands in case she had managed to hurt herself.

“Hey, hey, come on... Please, honey, relax...” you sighed, confused and nervous because you didn't know how to act. How were you going to solve something that you had caused?

“Is this what awaits me for eternity?! To live locked in this horrible house for the rest of my life!? If, if that's the case, I... I don't want to continue...”

“No!” you screeched before she finished that sentence, before you could hear that horrible wish. “Enough, Donna! Stop saying that.”

She growled, looking away as you loosened your grip on her wrists.

“Fuck... it's, it's all my fault,” you lamented, letting tears come out of your eyes, sitting next to her and also burying your head between your legs. “I'm sorry, Donna.”

“No, I was the one who... The one who let Miranda take everything from me,” she murmured, blinking erratically, seemingly calmer.

“I've made it worse,” you sighed, leaning your head against the wall.

Donna looked at you slowly, approaching you, asking with her eye for one of your hugs.

You huffed, hugging the brunette with all your might, letting her tears soak your dress as your caresses ran through her hair, over her soft skin.

“You are the only thing that allows me to continue living,” she murmured among sobs, hanging on to your clothes, letting your caresses calm her demons.

“Don’t, don't say that... You are strong, Donna, I know you are. I, I can't make you happy, I can't make you come home... I wish I could, but I can't,” you whispered, calming your broken voice. You needed all your strength to deal with that kind of situation.

The music stopped playing, drawing your attention.

“I just wanted to... Make you feel better and... I'm a disaster, Angie's right,” you sighed, trying unsuccessfully to calm the brunette's crying.

“Don’t, don't leave,” Donna murmured, looking at you terrified. You widened your eyes at that strange request.

“What? I'm not going to leave,” you said, frowning, running a hand over her wet cheek.

“You are my home,” the lady whispered, settling into your embrace, relaxing her breathing little by little. “If you leave me, I…”

You interrupted those words with a salty kiss on her lips, with a sad smile, with a look that begged for forgiveness.

“I'm not going to blame you for missing something that made you happy,” you said softly, gaining some of your lost composure. “I guess we all feel that way at some point.”

“What do you miss?” she asked with an intense look.

“Well, many things... I miss my parents, I miss when I was just a little girl and only had to worry about playing...” you explained, hugging her tighter, intensifying the caresses in her soft, black hair.

Donna nodded, closing her eye with a sob. Calm, luckily, returned to your heart.

“You know what? I also get angry because I know that things will never come back,” you whispered with a tender, calm voice, sounding to the rhythm of your caresses.

“How…? How can you overcome it?” she asked, breathing hard again, sighing in a heartbreaking way.

“Trying not to forget my past, complementing it with my present, creating many more unforgettable moments,” you said, looking at the ceiling, also suffering the scourge of nostalgia.

“Unforgettable moments?” Donna asked, moving away a little, curious. “What do you mean?”

“Well...” you murmured thoughtfully, directing your gaze to the old record player and slowly getting up, pulling the brunette's hand so she could do the same. “Come, Donna.”

She nodded confused, wiping away her tears and following you with her gaze.

You sighed, placing the old record player needle into the beginning of the vinyl, spinning it again.

Penso che un sogno così non ritorni mai più

Mi dipingevo le mani e la faccia di blu…

The music filled the workshop and you, insecure but confident, pulled the hands of the brunette, who was looking at you confused.

“Mi concede questo ballo?” you asked with a whisper, bringing her body a little closer to yours, putting your hand on her shoulder, letting hers go down to your waist.

A sad smile appeared on her face, positioning herself as you wanted, starting to move slowly.

“Of course,” she sighed, closing her eye, letting herself be carried away by your clumsy movements, dancing slowly to the rhythm of the music.

Volare, oh, oh…

“Cantare...” you whispered in unison, letting the steps become more and more coordinated, letting the slowness of the music and that improvised dance be the only thing you could think about.

The dresses moved slowly with the turns, with the hugs, with the kisses stolen from that improvised dance session, a slow dance, one that seemed to ease the pains in Donna's heart, one that made her understand what it meant for you to mix the past with the present to overcome everything you couldn't take back.

“I love you, (Y/N),” the lady whispered, giving you a gentle spin, getting closer to your ear as you let yourself go, smiling tenderly.

“I love you, Donna,” you responded, with the same softness, melting into a kiss coordinated with the music.

“You are the memory I never want to lose...”

[yukkoislost]

hi guys.

new au alert.

if u saw what i wrote before editing the post then no you didnt and if you didn't see before the edit then wdym edit i nvr changed it silly !!!

more below the cut <3

FIRST OFF SORRY I BUTCHERED N LIKE I LITERALLY FIND IT SO HARD TO DRAW HIS HAIR FOR SOME REASON??? PLS.

ANYWAY !!!

alright so the main places for this au are called Elation and Cimmerian. Elation is basically paradise for a lack of better word. nobody knows who created the place, but it's been there for as long as their history books can remember.

Cimmerian on the other hand, is like a dump (?). its a graveyard for all unwanted creation, where they're thrown there to rot and die. or at least they used to rot and die there, until the (clean up) where the dumpster pets decided that they were sick of just sitting around waiting and hoping for a chance at life so they decide to create their own.

Elation has a set of rules, and also a ruler., except nobody friggin knows who the ruler is and the rules are just something expected of all Elation Drones to know, engraved into their codes. the ruler is also known as the creator to drones in Cimmerian, and boy is the creator hated LMAO

N is a Elation Drone, Drones perfected by the ruler and given permission to play eternally in their paradise. as one of the first few biological Angel Drones, he's treated well and has a considerably high rank amongst the other creations in Elation.

(biological Angel Drones and Angel Drones are differentiated by their wings. N has feathered wings, a sign of being a creation made with blood and flesh from the ruler. they're more powerful)

Uzi on the other hand, is a Cimmerian Drone. more accurately, a shapeshifting Cimmerian Drone. she stays with her dad in a small gloomy town called Copper 9.

she got her shapeshifting genes from her mom, who used to be a biological Angel Drone, but then defected and was tossed out by the creator. her dad is just an ordinary Cimmerian Drone, which are basically drones who were thrown out because of one wrong code or another.

anyway the main storyline is the creator, having noticed how Cimmerian was suddenly flourishing, sent down some of its creations in order to wreak havoc and disturb the peace. N just so happens to be one of the drones that was sent, being one of the most powerful and all.

i'll work on this au more because i'm ngl this is hella fun <33 will likely make a book for it eventually :3 and will also be makkng N and uzi a proper reference sheet in due time !!!!

was highkey inspired hy hole dwelling btw

[foranpo]

ੈ˚ʚ welcome to my notion tutorial !!

♡ my notion took me a month to make. It's a bit frustrating sometimes, but i want you to know that it's possible to have some organization in your life.

notion is meant to help you have a more organized life: trackers, goals, diary entries, anything can be turn into a notion page and i'm here to teach you how ♡

ps: sorry for being so long and with some typos and whatnot ♡

♡˳────── 1st step: the choice of an aesthetic.

it's important to have an idea when you start your notion;

for me, i wanted a place cozy and warm that reminded me of spring.

my main color is green. and with that defined, i started looking for color palettes with the types of green that i liked the most.

(i used this website, but any is good enough. it's just to give you an idea of what you're going to work with.)

i chose an aesthetic more gloomy, academic, and obviously green, (for my main layout, a retro blue-ish layout for my fanfics and a melancholy yellow for my original works) and with that i jumped to step 2.

♡˳────── 2nd step: hunting images and inspiration.

pinterest, pinterest, pinterest.

i can't stress this enough. use keywords to find what you actually need.

if you're a beginner, start with notion inspo, notion [aesthetic] ideas, anything notion related. pick your favs and choose what you like most about each one:

the font, the pictures, the layout, even a small detail like an aesthetic quote design -just make sure you know what you like the most.

once you have a list of what you want, you start searching for images.

keywords i suggest are: [color] aesthetic, [color] cinematography, [color] photography, and, especially, [color] png icon.

i find it really satisfying having pngs on your notion: it gives a better sense of home and they cute, so it's a plus!

(most png aren't transperants on pinterest, so i use this app to make it a real png. now, know that it's not perfect and on dark mode might look funky, but it's worth a shot ig ♡)

now you should be left with a small gallery of photos with the same color scheme and this takes us to step 3!

♡˳────── 3rd step: dividers save lives.

pick one image to be the base of your notion layout.

it might be for your notion icon, header, or just a random pic laying around your notion. but make sure you only have one.

with that, go to an app that finds colors (i use this one) and pick the 3 most predominant colors! i suggest one darker, one lighter, and one in between.

this works not only as dividers but to enhance any quote or pic that you have. e.g.:

as you can see, this little dividers (size that i use: 948x8) work better than the ones provided by notion and they're easy to make. just open paint and you're done!

and once you have all the inspo, all the pics and dividers, it's time to create some art ♡

♡˳────── 4th step: the creation of art.

is time to make pages and more pages.

now, please know that this requires lots of work, frustration and patience. sometimes the website doesn't want to collaborate and it might get a bit annoying. but know that it's totally fine to take breaks and take your time. this is something for you and you only.

you can take all the time you want ♡

ㅤㅤ♡˳────── 4.1 step: page outline.

choose the number of pages !

i suggest you have one homepage with quick links to your other pages:

trackers, school related, hobbies, anything really.

it's your notion after all, you can do anything.

after having the number of pages you can star outlining the pages.

the beginning is always difficult and embaracing, but if you give it a try, i'm sure you will create art!

i suggest, if you do a full page, to use 4 to 6 columns. it might be a bit overwhelming at the start, but i found it easier to work with more columns and less rows. also, it's more compact which makes everything x3254 cuter.

nut you can literally do whatever you want! so here's my organization ♡

my personal organization !

homepage (5-6 columns, 4 rows): quick links to my other 4 pages. daily routine. quick reading and writing trackers. my performances schedules and feedback. goals for the month. clock, weather, year progress bar (see end of post).

original works (4-6 columns, 2 rows): my three wips. websites that help me with writing. my progress in each work. motivational quotes.

fanfic works (4 columns): folders for each fandom with more folders for hcs, one-shots, multi-chapter and ideas. motivational quotes. goals for the year. pretty pics and quotes.

trackers (5-6 columns, 4-5 rows): media that i'm currently consuming or consumed, with details such as rating, author, and some sub-pages with my extensive thoughts.

in short !

have one big page at the beginning to help you navigate easier.

don't be afraid to had columns and rows! if there's a blank space, throw some png's and quotes at it. it always makes everything 10x cuter.

ㅤㅤ♡˳────── 4.2 step: widgets are your best friends.

add some widgets to make it prettier ♡

i use this website. it's pretty easy and has the main widgets.

a quick google search might take you to other websites so feel free to explore ♡

♡˳────── 5th step: a touch of magic and stardust.

the start of a new page is always frustating: what aesthetic to use? what do you put first? what if it's corny? too much quotes? so many questions and, hey!, i hear ya! it's a pain in the ass.

that's why i'm here to tell you that you will change your layout lot's of time. even if you have already in mind what you have, it's only normal to change stuff every now and then until you have the perfect page.

e.g.:

you can see how my first homepage (pic. 1) changed drastically to my current homepage (pic.2). not only the color scheme changed, but the layout itself.

more artistic pictures, cuter png's and quotes, and my homepage changed completely!

so don't be afraid of change! it is important fr ♡

♡˳────── don't forget about...

you can change the font and size of the page by clicking on the three dots on the top right of your screen ♡

make your text pretty with cool symbols !!

again, just surf the internet and tumblr and i'm sure that aesthetic bios will provide you with the cute little symbols to make everything cute ♡

be creative with your picture layouts ! ♡

i personally use pinterest (frame template) and clipstudio to make prettier pictures, but i'm sure any photoshop app can give you this effect as well.

play with png's and make your notion look more alive ♡

any hanging or 2 png's similar can help with a look cleaner and more organized.

add spotify playlists (it had to be public, i'm afraid) and youtube videos for more diversity!

table view is a life changer for organizing trackers, especially books and movies ♡

let me know if you want a deeper tutorial on how to use any function or if i forgot mentioning something you would like to know more about ♡

i hope this helps you and it's clear. know that i'm here for anything you need and i'm sure you're gonna do amazing things there ♡

[meetinginsamarra]

mayprompts2024, #29 hero

Chapters 1 to 5 here on AO3

If you like the tattoo AU give it some love on my AO3, please. It would mean a lot to me. TYSM!

+++++

White Pony Tattoo - Part Nine (hero)

John turned around to head for the next bus stop, not knowing if he would even be able to get there. Taking a step and moving away from the tattoo shop seemed impossible. The weight of the world was crushing down on his shoulders and the outlook of not seeing Sherlock for at least a week cut deep into his chest and right into his heart.

The connection I’ve felt, being with Sherlock. Now that it’s gone, I almost feel sick.

John rubbed his eyes and sighed heavily.

Dear God, I think I’ve fallen for him. Fuck. Not just his looks, which are top notch of course, no, it’s the whole package of his personality. Even if he is a real dick at times. I can’t help it.

And yet, I’m wondering.

Did he feel it, too? He practically glowed down there in the lab, speaking to me, showing off his equipment. My appreciation of what he has achieved made him incandescent.

But does he like me back? As a person, as John Watson, the whole package I come with? Or was he just happy to have an audience that applauded his every move? To be forgotten as soon as I’m gone and out of his sight?

The gloomy thoughts clogged John’s brain and rendered him unable to walk away, condemning him to oscillate on the pavement in front of the shop.

“Oh, hello dear. You must be John?”

John was so preoccupied by his musings that he jumped badly when a woman’s voice suddenly adressed him.

“Erm, yes?”

Looking into the direction the voice had come from, John registered a frail but distinguished looking old lady. She had just sat down two heavy looking bags with groceries and held a bunch of keys in her hand. A large golden number dangled from the main key ring.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But you looked so forlorn and sad. Sherlock has not rejected you again, or has he?”

“Ah, no, he’ll tattoo me,” John quickly connected the puzzle pieces, “and you must be Sherlock’s landlady.”

“Tch, I forgot to introduce myself properly.” She chuckled and offered her hand. “I’m Martha Hudson. Most of the time I’m more like Sherlock’s housekeeper since he cannot be arsed to do the simplest household chores himself.”

Shaking her hand firmly, John laughed. “That sounds very much like him. Always thinking about ink, is he?”

“Yes, yes. He calls it the INK, written all in capital letters. It’s his greatest passion, he cares for little else.” She unlocked the front door.

This offhand comment struck a chord in John, one whose sound he did not really want to hear again. Doubt. Doubt if Sherlock really cared about him apart from putting INK on his skin. He shook himself mentally, trying to get rid of the anxiety that crept upon him like a feral beast.

“Pleased to meet you. Let me just praise the scones you’ve made. They’ve been the best I ever had.”

Mrs Hudson made a delighted sound. “What a charmer you are!”

“Just telling the truth.” John pointed to the grocery bags. “Can I help you with these?”

“Oh, please, if you don’t mind, dear. When the weather is like this, my bad hip is always acting up.”

John carried the bags into 221A, Mrs Hudson’s flat on the ground floor. He put them onto her kitchen table and was about to leave when she invited him on a cup of tea as a thank you for his help. Like every proper Englishman, John could not refuse.

“Did you know that Sherlock explicitly requested tea and scones for you today?” Mrs Hudson said when she handed John the cup with steaming hot tea, watching his face quizzically.

“No?” The undeniable sly look on her otherwise so friendly and open face caught John a bit on the wrong foot. “I thought it was the usual hospitality he shows to his clients.”

Mrs Hudson outright laughed.

“My dear, he never cares about hospitality. The clients come to him anyway, no matter how rude he behaves. Can you imagine my surprise when he asked me to provide tea and scones for your appointment today?”

She refilled John’s tea cup. “He said I need tea and the best scones you can bake when John comes back. Sherlock even added a please in an afterthought.”

“He was sure I’d come back and acept his offer. He just knew.” John shrugged. “He knew me better than I know myself.”

“Not the point, dear. Sherlock wanted to have tea and scones for you. He wanted to impress you and be nice. You must mean something to him if he goes to such lenghts, don’t you think?” Mrs Hudson winked and grinned.

John wondered if she had adopted this mannerism from Sherlock or if it had been the other way around.

“I don’t know. I’d like to think so.” John decided to be honest with Mrs Hudson. Somehow, he was convinced he could trust her. He added wistfully. “I really wish I would be more to him than just the next canvas to put his INK onto.”

“He’s had a hard time in the past,” Mrs Hudson said, “he doesn’t let people get close to him easily or quickly lowers the protective shield he’s put around his heart.”

“Really?” John wondered. “He seemed pretty open and relaxed when he showed me all the stuff in his ink laboratory in the basement.”

“He what?” Mrs Hudson cried out and jumped up. The hip was not bothering her now, apparently.

“John! He never lets people in there. It’s his sanctum sanctorum. It took four months and constant nagging on my behalf until he let me take a look and I own this house. If he shows it to you just like this, you have to be very special to him already!”

Blissful warmth spread through John’s body. His nerves tingled and his blood sang a dulcet melody full of hope. Could it be that…

John beamed. “Thank you so much for telling me, Mrs Hudson. That he cares about me.”

Suddenly, Mrs Hudson’s posture changed.

She fixated John with ice cold eyes, pinning him on the chair. Steel had replaced every trace of her earlier softness and age-related frailty. She stepped up to John.

“Just to give a you heads-up, you’re not the only person who cares about Sherlock.” Her voice was sharp, quiet and deadly serious. “Or protects him.”

It sent chills running down John’s spine.

Mrs Hudson briefly squeezed John’s shoulder. “If you hurt him, I’ll lace your tea with rat poison. I know a nice lad who is a building contractor and he’ll bury your body somewhere in a concrete slab.”

Theatrical as it might appear, John believed her every word.

And just like this, the fearsome avenging angel that had occupied Mrs Hudson’s body disappeared, leaving the nice old landlady behind.

“Do you want another cup of tea, my dear?” She asked sweetly.

In this moment John decided that Martha Hudson was a true heroine.

++++++

tagging some people @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs  @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @calaisreno

[2-guns-b1tch]

Midnight Visitor

Rating: Explicit +18

Pairing: BTAA! Scarecrow x F!Reader

I really wanted to write something about the Scarecrow from the Audio Adventures. I love his voice and his mannerisms so much. Sorry if this a little OOC, i think i wasn't able to portray him exactly right, but I hope you like this and let me now if I forgot to mention a trigger warning.

Ao3

+18 Minors DNI!!! Fear Play, Mildly Dubious Consent, Breathplay if you squint, Vaginal Sex.

The waiting room is practically empty when you come in. The only person in there is Miss Gold and she seems to be getting ready to leave for her lunch break.

"Hello, Miss Gold," your voice breaks the silence, making her jump on her chair.

Miss Gold snaps her head in your direction, laughing softly with a hand on her chest when she realizes is actually you.

"Oh, hello, Mrs. Crane. I was sou caught that you startled me."

Miss Gold has been Jonathan's secretary for almost two years. She was a little shorter than you, wearing high heels to make up for the missing inches. Her round, rosy cheeks reminded you of a peach, matching her plumper silhouette. Her clothes were often pastel and soft, which made her stand out in the dull environment of the clinic.

Although Miss Gold was sweet and helpful, she always had this nervous expression on her face, looking like she was on the verge of an anxiety attack constantly. You needed to have a conversation with Jonathan to find out what kind of pressure he was putting on the poor secretary.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to sneak in like this," you say, approaching her table. "I came to bring Jonathan's lunch. Is he here?"

Miss Gold nods, "Yes, he is, dear. Would you like me to let him know you're here?"

"You don't have to, thank you. Go enjoy your lunch, Miss Gold. I will take care of the doctor now.”

You say goodbye before she leaves and you knock on Jonathan's door, his voice on the other end signaling you to come in.

"What's so important, Miss-" Jonathan lifts his head towards you, the annoyed expression on his face being washed away when he lays his eyes on you, a small smile forming on the corners of his lips.

You can't help but shiver as you walk over to his desk. The old, dark furniture gave the room a gloomy air, the dim lights creating strange shadows. But what made you feel more uneasy were the old Argus Studios posters hanging on the walls. Basil Karlo's wicked gaze followed you wherever you went.

You try to shake off that feeling when Jonathan gets up and meets you halfway.

"What do I owe the pleasure of your honorable presence?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You pull him by his orange tie – the same one you had gifted him last Christmas – until he was at your level and you could kiss him on the cheek.

"You forgot that at home, so I thought I'd stop by to deliver it to you," you lift the lunchbox, handing it to him.

He slaps a hand on his forehead, giving a breathy chuckle as he shakes his head. "What would I do without my dear wife?"

"You would probably end up forgetting your head somewhere," you pat him at the shoulder before sitting down on the therapy couch.

Jonathan just nods, sitting next to him. He opens the package, admiring for a few seconds what you had packed before he started eating.

You watch him finish the salad in just a few bites and then stuff his mouth full of spaghetti. He licks his lips, letting out a few moans of delight between bites.

"Good to know you still like my food," you comment out Loud.

"How could I not? That was one of the main reasons I married you."

You try to look offended by giving him a weak slap on the arm, but you can't hide your smile when he starts laughing.

"You're terrible!"

"You can't go back now. Until death do us part, remember?" he shrugs as if there's nothing you can do. “Besides, we both know you’re crazy about me."

You roll your eyes at him, but your fingers troke your wedding ring, a warm sensation spreading across your chest.

"You look hungry. What would you have eaten if I hadn’t brought your lunch?"

He shrugs as he finishes chewing. "I probably would have asked Miss Gold to buy me something. Don't worry."

But it was impossible not to worry. In these last months, Jonathan left early in the morning and returned only late at night. He said he was too busy at the office and that you shouldn't wait for him awake. Even then you always woke up when he arrived home and helped him take off his clothes, only being able to talk for a few minutes until he fell asleep exhausted.

Of course you were grateful for the comfortable life his jobs provided, and you were very proud of his career as a doctor and professor, but you didn't want him to work until he killed himself.

You run your fingers through his hair, brushing a few strands off his forehead. He definitely needed a cut. On top of that, he looked even thinner and the dark circles under his eyes were getting bigger. But even after all these years together, he was still the man of your dreams. A little mean and weird, but you didn't want it any other way.

Jonathan stares at you, his gaze as warm and loving as ever. But at the same time it seemed so far away, as if he wasn't really there.

"Today they're going to reprise some classic horror movies. What do you think? You, me, a bucket of popcorn?" you propose.

"I'm sorry, dear. Not today. I have some tests that I need to go through and-" Jonathan begins to explain himself, but you interrupt him.

"It's okay, you have work to do. I get it.”

You bite your tongue, hating how angry you sound. You didn't want to take your frustrations out on him, but you missed Jonathan so much. You missed dancing with him as he hummed some silly music he made up. To watch the classic horror movies he loved so much. To simply be able to talk to him without Jonathan falling asleep in the middle of a sentence. And you missed the sex, too.

Jonathan was still affectionate, of course, but the caresses and touches boiled down to a quick kiss before he left or a hug when he arrived. Nothing more than that. Now, Jonathan left a void around the house, like a ghost walking in the halls.

He places the lunch box on the coffe table, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You're upset, I understand.”

You move your gaze to your lap. "I'm not upset. I'm just... tired. I’ve barely seen you these last few days."

He puts his hand over yours, his skin feeling cold against your own.

"I know these past months have been difficult. But I'll make it up to you," he strokes your cheek, tilting your chin to look into your eyes. "I promise."

You really want to believe him, but a part of you suspects that these are empty promises. This behavior will keep repeating itself and you will keep forgiving him, until eventually you drift further apart.

A paranoid little voice in the back of your mind suggests a hypothesis for Jonathan's absence and you hate yourself for thinking about something like that. What if he was cheating on you? What if all this distance over the past few months was actually someone between you.

Jonathan wasn't that kind of man, but the voice kept repeating. What if? What if he had grown tired of you? What if that person was more beautiful? Or more interesting? What if they made him happier than you?

The idea makes your stomach turn and you swallow dry. You pull your hand from his grip, getting up from the couch.

"I should go," you say as you put the lunchboxes back in the bag. "After all, you have a lot of work to do."

You feel numb as Jonathan follow you to the door, barely feeling the goodbye kiss he places on your forehead.

You wish you had walked out of the office hoping that things would get better or at least satisfied that this is just a temporary crisis that all couples have to face at some point.

Instead, doubt and a feeling of distress accompany you all the way home.

——

You stir awake, being pulled slowly from your dreams. Everything seems hazy and fuzzy as you run you fingers over Jonathan’s bedside, but you only find his side cold and empty. You sigh in frustration, letting your head sink against the pillow again. You should be used to it by now.

The alarm on your bedside table signals that it's past midnight, the numbers on the digital clock flashing through the darkness of the room. You snuggle under the covers again, almost forgetting what woke you up in the first place. Sleep is so tempting and you start to drift off.

But an insistent sound keeps you awake. You stare at the ceiling, your eyes getting used to the darkness as you begin to make out what exactly the noise was.

Steps. Someone was walking around the apartment.

You pull the sheets, the sole of your foot meeting the cold floor. You try not to assume the worst as you get out of bed. Maybe it was just Jonathan coming home from work.

You step into the hallway, turning on the switch, but the light bulb flickers a few time before the shadows envelop you once more. You sigh, cursing yourself silently. The hallway light wasn’t working properly and you were supposed to change it weeks ago.

You walk slowly with your arms extended in front of your body so you don’t bump into anything until you can reach the bathroom door. You turn the lights on and a momentary feeling of safety rushes over you. Everything looks okay in the bathroom, so you decide to let the lights on and the door open to let a little bit o the light illuminate the hallway.

After that you go to check the living room and the kitchen. Your thin nightgown isn't enough to keep you warm on that cold night and you hug yourself, a shiver running through your skin.

You finally go to the front door to test the handle. To your relief, is locked and the bolt was in place. Even though you lived in a safe neighborhood you still had your fears, after all, Gotham is Gotham. You can never be too sure.

Maybe it was just a dream? You wonder for a second until you notice the light in Jonathan's office leaking through the small crack in the door. As you get closer, the sound of mumbling and papers being flipped through becomes more noticeable. Jonathan was really incorrigible. After hours at his office, he brought even more work home.

"Jon, you should go to bed," you stop in front of the door, rubbing your eyes until they get used to the brightness of the room.

You had the clear image of Jonathan in your head. He'd be sitting behind his desk with a tired expression on his face, pen hanging loose in his hand while he is finishing giving grades fos his students’ tests. You would whisper in a sweet tone and stroke his hair until he agreed to follow you back to bed.

Instead, your heart sinks as your eyes fall on the stranger leaning over Jonathan's desk, papers scattered everywhere. He was tall and thin, wearing a brown suit. His face was covered by a patched mask, a rope around his neck.

You've heard and read countless stories about him, but you never expected that one day you'd come face to face with the Scarecrow.

Sleep is a distant thing now. The adrenaline coursing through your veins makes your whole body tense, your feet stuck on the ground. Your instincts scream at you to run, fight, do anything, but the idea of moving seems impossible. All you can do is watch transfixed as Scarecrow stares at you from across the room, a heavy, suffocating silence forming between the two of you.

For some reason he seems as surprised as you do, as if he didn't expect someone to show up.

He walks around the table with slow steps, his hands raised in the air. "Hush. I didn't come here to hurt you," he sounds calm and... strangely familiar. But the grim smile sewn into his mask doesn't help to reassure you.

This is like a nightmare. The kind where you stay in the same place while running, unable to distance yourself from the monster that chases you, no matter how hard you try. But now, the monster wouldn't disappear when you opened your eyes. No matter how much you blink, he's still there.

He's only a few inches away, his hand almost touching your arm, when your feet finally work again and you run out of the room, heading towards the kitchen.

You can hear the Scarecrow right behind you through the rapid beating of your heart, his footsteps reverberating against the hardwood floor, but you don't dare look back.

Your first extinct is to open one of the drawers to grab the biggest knife you can find. You turn just in time to see the Scarecrow standing in the kitchen doorway, your trembling hands gripping the handle of the knife as you point the blade at him. The shadows cast strange shapes on his face, making the smile on his mask seem even bigger. For a moment he looks like one of the monsters from Jonathan's movies.

"Don't come closer!" you scream.

He ignores your order, taking one step toward you and then another. Approaching in the same careful manner that a predator approaches its prey.

You swallow, your wobbly legs seeming to be unable to bear your own weight. "If you come any closer I-I... I'm going to hurt you."

He pauses for a moment, tilting his head as he studies you. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves ma’am. You don't want to make any rash decisions."

"Stay away from me! My husband is going to arrive any moment and he's going to-"

The Scarecrow throws his head back in a cruel laugh that sends a shiver down your spine, as if you've said something stupid.

"Look at you, trying to rationalize with fear. So brave," he shakes his head, approaching again.

With every step he takes, you take another step back in a futile attempt to increase the distance between you. You keep retreating until you're backed against the kitchen counter and that's when it lunges at you. He slaps your hand, throwing your knife across the room.

You try to scream, but he presses his hand over your mouth to muffle your cries for help. You flinch at the sensation of the cold leather of his gloves on your skin, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your arm.

You're like a deer at headlights, too scared to fight for your survival. He was so close now, you could see his eyes through the holes in the mask, deep brown circles staring back at you. His pupils were dilated, he was enjoying it.

To your horror, he presses his face against your neck. He inhales deeply against your skin, letting out a satisfied hum. The hair on the back of your neck stands up and you shiver against his grip.

"You’re afraid, aren’t you? You’re afraid, and it’s delicious,” he whispers close to your ear, his voice becoming dark and low as he takes a sharp inhale. "Mmm. You fear is so sweet, I can almost taste it on my tongue. Oh, darling. You're terrified," he laughs hoarsely.

You close your eyes so tightly that you can see little white spots. The whole world seems to spin and you feel dizzy. Would he drug you with the fear gas that all the news have been talking about? Or maybe force you to swallow some of the drugs he makes that look like Halloween candy? You can only think of Jonathan coming home to find your lifeless body lying on the kitchen floor.

The sob you let out goes almost unnoticed and you think he'll just ignore you, but the Scarecrow leans back, your eyes meeting as tears roll down your face.

"Shhh. No crying. Those aren't the kind of tears I want from you," he says in a soft, almost soothing tone as he strokes your hair. "I'll let you talk now, but don't scream. Got it?"

You nod as best you can and he finally pulls his hand off of you. Your tongue feels heavy inside your mouth when you try to speak.

"Wha... What are you going to do with me?" you ask.

"I'm still deciding," he shrugs.

"I don't have anything you want."

"Maybe I don't want something you have. Maybe I want you to do something for me. Have you thought about that?"

His words take a second to fully hit you. You wish you had misunderstood, but it was impossible not to notice the way he looked at you, how his eyes traveled up and down your body. Your breath gets caught in your throat and you shake your head.

"Please don't. I... I have a husband and he-"

Scarecrow interrupts you with a loud sigh. "You keep talking about your husband, but where is he?"

You open your mouth to answer him, but close it right away, pressing your lips into a thin line. You didn't know where Jonathan really was. Maybe he wasn't even in the office. What if he had lied to you?

He continues in a low tone, as if he's telling you a secret. "What kind of husband leaves his wife like that? So lonely. So vulnerable," one of his hands goes down slowly to caress the bare flesh of your thigh while the other grips your waist. You are startled by the feeling of his hands on you, how his touch is surprisingly slow and sensual. You find yourself thinking about Jonathan for a second before remembering that he's not the one touching you.

"Were you waiting for him? That's why you're wearing this nightgown? How lovely," his laugh makes your cheeks heat up. "Lucky me."

He drags his hand up your stomach, running along your sides, teases one of your breasts until your nipple is a stiffen bud underneath your nightgown. You try to look distant on the outside, but it’s impossible to deny the wetness forming between your legs. You bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to hold in any noises.

You don't want that. You don't want his hands on you. You don't want his body against yours. But you can't remember the last time you felt wanted. It's been so long since you and Jonathan had sex. You're so tired of feeling alone.

Even with these ideas running through your head, you place a hand against his chest, opening up a bit of space between the two of you.

"No. That's not right," you say, "I don't... I don't want this."

"Oh, don't be like that," he whispers, rubbing his face against you neck. "That could be our little secret. I'm not going to tell anyone. I promise."

The air is drawn out of your lungs, as if you've been punched in the stomach. You turn your head slowly, the words stuck in your throat.

"Jonathan?" you mutter.

His body tenses suddenly, and he tilts his head back, staring at you wide-eyed, like a child who just got caught with his hand inside the cookie jar. How could you not have noticed before? Maybe it was fear confusing your senses, but all the signs were there. The same tall, slender silhouette, the long limbs, the deep brown eyes. The same voice. The same laugh.

He breaks the silence with a low laugh, shaking his head.

"I knew I couldn't fool your forever. You always have been so smart."

He lifts the mask slowly, revealing every bit of his face. The face you knew so well. Jonathan's face.

A million questions cross your mind, but before you can say anything Jonathan presses you against the counter again, capturing your lips.

You gasp and throw a fist into his chest, pressing your teeth against his bottom lip, biting hard enough to hurt, but this jusy makes Jonathan growls like a mad dog. His hands run all over your body, not knowing where to stop. He tugs at your nightgown, the cold air sending shivers through your skin as he grabs and squeezes every bit of flesh he can reach.

The kiss is demanding and sloppy, his hot tongue trailing across your lips and invading your mouth. All you can do is hold on to Jonathan as if your life depended on it, making him grunt as your nails sink into his covered back.

There's something familiar about how your bodies move in sync. A sensual dance that the two of you had done thousands of times before. But now there's a hunger behind Jonathan's movements, something possessive, as if he won’t let you escape. Maybe you were as hungry as he was.

The next moment your world changes perspective as Jonathan turns you around, lowering you down onto the kitchen counter until your cheek is pressed against the cold surface. You moan softly as he lifts the thin material of your nightgown, his mouth leaving warm kiss on the skin of your back.

He pulls your panties down, kicking your legs apart. You were practically naked, while Jonathan was fully clothed, having only taken off his mask and gloves. You feel so exposed, nothing to hide yourself while Jonathan stares at you laid bare before him.

You can hear him shuffling behind you, undoing his own belt and pants in a hurry. You turn your head just in time to see him approaching, his flushed cock pressing against your pussy, making you both grunt together. You don't even care if it hurts, all you want is Jonathan inside you. Filling you completely. Fuck, you want him so bad.

He gathers some of your wetness, his dick sliding in between your folds in slow movements. You moan softly when the tip catches on your clit, the sweet sensation making you buckle your hips towards him.

"Jonny..." you whine, "Please."

Jonathan laughs in a mocking tone, but you know he's not in the mood for teasing either.

You’re wet enough so there is no resistance as he presses intou you, your walls stretching to accommodate his cock. Jonathan moves slowly, leaving you’re both panting when he’s fully inside you. The pain and the pleasure mix deliciously, you missed him so much.

The first thrust takes the air out of your lungs. The second makes your legs tremble. The third makes your back arch and a sweet sound leave your lips. He keeps rutting against you, slow and deep. The wet sound of your bodies combined and your moans reverberate through the walls.

"You're the perfect victim, you know?" he says in between grunts, "You're so beautiful when you're scared. Oh, and when you started running – Fuck... I almost lost my mind. I wanted to take you right there on the floor."

You clench around him, driving him even deeper into you. Jonathan realizes the effect his words have on you, giving you a breathless chuckle.

"Did you like that? Do you like the idea of a maniac fucking you?"

The idea shouldn't be so tempting, but you can't stop thinking about Jonathan hiding in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal himself and pull you into the darkness with him, where he could do whatever he wanted to you.

You nod weakly and he grips you tighter, his nails leaving half-moon marks on the soft skin of your waist.  His pace is brutal now, your body moving everytime his hips hits your backside.

"Next time... Hah... I'll give you some of the toxin, just enough to keep you on the edge and a little scared," he takes a sharp breath, throwing his head back, "And then... I'm going to put on my mask and I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop."

You open your mouth, but you can’t form words to save your life, so you reach out behind you

to something to hold until your fingers find the rope around Jonathan’s neck and you pull him towards you. He lets out a surprised sound, turning into a sinful moan. His chest is against your back, his chin resting on your shoulder.

It’s good. It’s so fucking good. You can’t believe you almost forgot how good it was to have him inside you. You make a silent promise to never let him leave again.

One of his hands moves around your body, his fingers meeting your throbbing clit. He makes quick circles around it, pinching and pressing on it hard. For a moment it all seems too much and not enough at the same time. His cock moving inside you, the pressure on your clit. It was overwhelming in the best kind of way.

With your cheek pressed against the counter and tears streaming down your face, you can feel your orgasm approaching. Behind you, Jonathan's movements get more and more out of rhythm and you know he's not that far away either.

He keeps one hand in between your legs while the other lays flat on your mid section, pulling you close to him, your bodies still glued together.

"Tell me -Ah... Tell me who I am,” he mumbles, cheek nuzzled in your temple. “Tell me what I am,” almost sound like he is begging and you could never say no to him.

"Scarecrow!" the word leaves your lips before you know it. "You're the Scarecrow."

"Yes! That’s right! That’s right, good girl. My good girl,” his praise goes straight to your pussy and you squeeze him impossibly tight.

You throw your head back, stretching your neck until you can kiss him. It’s all teeth and tongue while he keeps moving inside you with shallow thrusts.

Your orgasm hits you so hard that almost hurts. The knot in your lower belly finally snaps and the wave of carnal bliss washes over your. Jonathan comes right after you. He curses between clenched teeth, his hips curling, his breath hot on your skin as he fills your cunt with hot wads of cum.

 You both breathe heavily in the middle of the kitchen, your sweaty bodies intertwined perfectly. Thank God he is holding you, because you barely can feel your legs and if it weren’t for him you know you would be on the floor by this point.

Jonathan snuggles up against your neck, murmuring something sweet, but your mind is too hazy now to hear him. You bring a hand up to his head, stroking his hair.

As you come down from you high, reality finally hits you. One of Gotham's most wanted criminals just came inside you and now he's cuddling you. Oh, and coincidentally, he's your husband... Fuck.