#lady of frozen fate

[darlingdekarios]

hibernate.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 6,152 content: Arthur Morgan x f!reader, animal hunting mentions, cannon-accurate outlaw behavior, cowboy meet cute, Arthur Morgan is a simp, snowed in, fluff, smut [v fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, cockwarming], kink(s) [spit as lube]

it was like fate insisted on the two of you colliding.

The first time you’d met Arthur Morgan was a lovely March night in New Hanover, opportunities abound as the hustle and bustle of life was at its highest point of the year, the weather the most tolerable for moving about. Returning from an evening of fishing now that the water wasn’t frozen in some areas and sketching birds by the river when he stumbled across a lone figure boarding train – well after midnight. He followed on horseback under the cover of trees in anticipation, joined by your own horse shortly after. He followed alongside with a hold of the strange horse’s reins until the train came to a stop. 

He'd strained to hear you, considered boarding after you to clean up any straggling guards – it wasn’t his business, so he didn’t – but curiosity held him close. When the sound of police approaching quickly began you emerged to the top of the train, looking around desperately for your horse. Temporarily frozen when the moonlight caught your face and confirmed to the man that you were a woman, he recovered just in time to spring into action.

It had been Arthur who had led your horse to you and instructed you to follow. It was Arthur’s path that led you away from the law and eventually far enough away to be free of their hunting.

“Are you some kinda lunatic, lady?” he questioned when the two of you slowed side-by-side under the cover of thick trees, his face hard-set and stern. “You coulda gotten yourself tossed away for a long time back there.”

“I didn’t, though,” you laughed, and despite the feeling that burned in him that he couldn’t quite place as anger or worry Arthur’s stomach flipped at the sound and the way your laugh reached your eyes. You adjusted your hat with a playful smile on your lips, keeping the reins to your horse in one hand. 

“Thanks to me,” he asserted, the stress causing him to light up a cigarette and adjust his hat. His eyes caught your gaze and you held it, appreciating his handsome features for a moment as your smile twisted wider.

“I would’ve figured it out, cowboy – you can be sure of that.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’ve seen your face on ‘wanted’ posters, Mr. Morgan,” you proclaimed, tone proud as you called him on his identity. He took another drag from his cigarette before leaning forward comfortably in his saddle, outstretching a hand toward you. 

“Arthur,” he offered, amusement flashing across his features when you shook his hand firmly. “And I’ve seen yours, too. What is it they call you…?”

“The Panther,” you replied, that proud tone ever-present in your voice. “A nice tribute to my best hunt.”

His poker face was too well-trained to reveal that he was impressed – that he was intrigued.

“Well next time you go thinkin’ of doing something so goddamn stupid like rob a train at midnight alone,” he began, gruff voice filled with frustration as he attempted to present his unamused façade. “You could invoke that particular nickname and be a little more subtle.”

The second time was just as circumstantial. It was July – the heat sweltering, the air sticky, the fireflies sparkling in fields at night. You’d been riding for days, hunting gators in the swamps for weeks and now headed back to a more familiar area where you felt more at home. Just past Emerald Ranch you’d spotted him on the road ahead – his hat unmistakable and burned into your mind, his horse giving away his identity to anyone who knew it. 

There was no questioning if he’d want your company – you didn’t even give it a thought. Instead, you’d hastened your own horse to catch up with him.

“Where ya headed, cowboy?” you questioned as you approached from behind, adjusting your hat back on your head to offer more of your face to him. Your voice immediately sent a shiver down his spine, the barely-there smile crossing his features unmissed by you.

Four months trying to remember your face and voice hadn’t done it any justice.

“Valentine,” he replied, slowing his horse’s stride to match yours. The two of you set a lazy pace, in no real hurry to get anywhere. “You following me now, cat?”

“Like I ain’t got better things to do, Mr. Morgan?” you joked, nose scrunching as you smiled. The Summer sun had done beautiful things for your color, he noted. “Give you $50 and shine your guns if you can beat me there.”

“Are you tryin’ to race me?” he questioned with a subtle laugh, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

“Won’t be much of a race, cowboy.”

He let out a real, genuine, albeit short laugh at that. The sound filled the air around you, made birds vacate trees. Your heart soared away alongside them.

“And what is it you want if you win?”

“A nice bottle of whisky,” you replied after a brief moment of thought, reaching your hand to rub your horse’s neck gently. Arthur had forgotten how gentle your hands were with everything they touched – the rediscovery lighting up his mind. “And a hot meal at your camp.”

“Can’t promise the gang’ll let you eat at camp without drinking, too.”

“Which is why I asked for a bottle of whisky,” you remarked, that shit-eating grin he was starting to love spreading on your face again. “Do we have a deal?”

“Hope your horse is fast enough to back up that mouth of yours,” he quipped back, intentionally antagonizing you as he started to pick up the speed slightly. “Or that you’ve got plenty of gun oil.”

You shot forward then, the dust of the road kicking up behind you as you left Arthur behind on a road you both knew well. In reality he could’ve caught you – could’ve even won if he’d pushed his horse hard enough – but the sound of your laughter in the cool evening air was reason enough to lose. 

It wasn’t a surprise when you crossed over into the town first.

“You cheated,” he argued as he approached, allowing his horse to slow to a reasonable speed for being around other people. “Got a head start. Doesn’t count.”

“You’re just a sore loser.”

“Maybe I am,” he replied, reaching up to remove his hat to resituate his wind-blown hair. You were momentarily transfixed on his fingers running through the strands that looked soft – maybe in need of a wash but soft nonetheless – but quickly wished he’d left it messy. “Weren’t mean you didn’t get a head start, cat.”

“Oh, like a couple steps mattered,” you entered an easy banter with him, just like the two of you had done in the Spring. He’d missed it – hadn’t realized how much he had until then. “Coulda given you a five-minute head start and still would’ve beat you and that slowpoke horse you ride.”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re difficult?” 

“Heard it a couple times,” there was that smile again – the nose crinkling one. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep his thoughts to himself with you smiling that way – at him. You jumped down from your stallion and hitched him with ease, feeding the massive animal a small snack in appreciation of his efforts. “I can compromise. I buy the whisky, but I still get a hot meal at your camp.”

He pondered your proposal only briefly before nodding, letting out an affirmative huff in agreeance. “I’ll meet you at the butcher when you’re done.”

You gave your horse a gentle pat and nodded, turning back to meet his gaze. “Sell that fox pelt I have up on Scratch, will ya?”

Easy. Simple. Honest. Sensible. Arthur loved having you around camp that night – and the night after when you’d been convinced to stay again by the women – though it was hardly just them that enjoyed your company. You’d made easy companions in the camp with your sharp tongue and ability to hold your alcohol. You had plenty of stories to share with Arthur’s chosen family – each one of them genuinely interesting to the gang.

Everyone knew the fact Arthur had brought you around meant you were a good person. The beauty was a bonus, he’d been informed in privacy. He’d only told Sean to shut his mouth in response. Arthur slept by the fire that night so you could sleep in his cot, and if anyone else in the gang saw the way he’d sat up for at least an hour with his eyes transfixed on your sleeping figure in his bed. 

It was Fall, October to be exact, the next time he heard from you – this time you had taken fate into your own hands to seek out his company. He was certain he’d never be able to dispose the letter you’d penned and sent to his camp.

Dear Arthur, Kinda strange to call you “dear”, huh?  Anyway, I have a job comin’ up in Saint Denis that involves me boarding a train quite late at night and remembering our conversation earlier this year I thought I may ask you to join.  Job is planned for the night of October 18, the Saturday after next. I’ll meet you the Friday before at the saloon in Van Horn if you plan on joining me.  I do hope you join me.  Hope that gang of yours isn’t being too rough on you. 

He arrived in Van Horn a day early and rented himself a room – and a bath – so he was prepared for the meeting. He was in the saloon before you, his chest clenching as you walked in through the swinging doors. 

You’d taken a page from his book and clearly bathed recently as well, and you were dressed for the first time in front of him in feminine attire. The sight of you in a skirt shouldn’t have affected him the way it did – it was embarrassing for a man his age. It didn’t prevent the pressure building at his waist, nor did it stop him from speaking his mind.

“You had to wear that damn skirt, didn’t ya?” he questioned when you joined him, a smile spreading across your face. It was hardly a gentlemanly way to greet you, but then again, he was hardly a gentleman. “Knew what you were doin’ puttin’ that on with me coming in today…”

“You complained so much about the pants last time I figured I’d save myself the headache,” you replied, sliding into a chair next to him and crossing your legs for emphasis. “You don’t like it?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, kitten,” he’d practically purred – a new tone between the two of you. There was no denying that you wanted to hear it more, and you nearly chose to forget the real reason you were now sitting beside him. 

“I need to look the part tomorrow for the job,” you replied quickly, eager to squash the tension now building between the two of you, unwilling to allow the job to go forgotten. There was too much money at stake. “Have to board a real nice train when it leaves out of Saint Denis tomorrow night. There’s a safe onboard I’d like to get my hands into.”

“Can’t just rob it the old-fashioned way?”

“Someone didn’t like the last time I did that,” you teased, feeling pleased with the smile it earned. “Figured I’d board and crack the safe.”

“Why you need me then?”

“Need someone to play my husband and keep watch while I’m workin’ on the safe.”

“Your husband,” he huffed out with another laugh, a brief shake to his head. The term had always been silly to him, just as silly as the idea of marriage was to you as a whole, really – and yet, there was no denying the clench in both of your chests at the mere thought. The imaginary suggestion manifested in brief images of domesticity, the vision of you sleeping in his cot in July flashing in his mind. 

You didn’t miss the slight redness to his cheeks, he didn’t miss how your smile fluttered into something laced with affection. For all your joking demeanor, it was still clear that there was some secretive sincerity beneath the surface – that you cared for Arthur. And on Arthur’s part, well…he wouldn’t ride across the country to work for just anyone.

“Yes,” you replied when you’d pulled yourself from the depths of his eyes. “A woman travelling with her husband is far less likely to draw attention than if I were alone.”

You thought there would be some protest, though if you’d seen even a fraction of the thoughts Arthur had conjured up in the preceding months you’d never have to question it. To you what seemed to be him conceding was actually the outlaw taking a step he’d long considered taking with you the next chance he got. 

Arthur just wanted to spend time with you – there were probably very few things he’d say no to right now in regard to you. He wouldn’t go admitting that out loud anytime soon either. 

“Fine, I’ll go along with your little plan. Only so you don’t go gettin’ yourself arrested.”

“Great!” you exclaimed, the brightness that covered your face blinding but serving as confirmation that he was making the right choice. The money he was sure to get would be a bonus, too. “I got you a wedding ring. Looks like it’ll fit. You can sell it when the job’s done, as a thank you.”

“You get it off a dead body?”

“He didn’t need it anymore.”

There was that goddamn feeling in his chest again. 

This was the fourth time destiny had crossed your path with Arthur Morgan’s. 

Now, the ring still lay in the outside pouch of his satchel, the cool metal brushing against the tips of his calloused fingers often daily in a physical reminder of you. Today, feeling the pull of being apart from you for four months now and into the new year, he’d been clutching the metal in his gloved hands as he led his horse through the far North. Seeking the solitary bliss of being alone in the mountains for the winter, he had opted to simply ride and camp, sketching in his journal and enjoying the snow dusted scenery. Arthur’s plan was soon thwarted as a snowstorm began to roll in.

He'd been riding along the same worn path to make his way down the mountain when he noticed horse tracks leading into the thick forest – a horse, by the look of it, with no reemergence to be seen. Opting to do the honorable thing, Arthur pursued the trail, weaving through trees atop his own horse until he came to a small clearing where you were setting predator bait.

He didn’t know the kind of words to describe the way he felt seeing you right in front of him.

“Are you some kinda lunatic, cat?” 

If he had a way with words, he’d tell you that your smile was brighter than the sun itself – fleeting shooting stars, the North Star when he’s lost. 

“That’s not the first time you’ve asked me that question, Mister Morgan,” you replied, standing up and patting your horse as your gaze remained transfixed on him now. Even at this distance you could see the blue in his coat had electrified his eyes, the tone a perfect match for the world around you. You found it hard to form any further rebuttal. 

“Won’t be the last either, given you’re doing something fucking crazy every time I see you,” he teased, finally giving into the natural ease he felt with you. The light air between the two of you had finally lulled him into a sense of comfort around you – he was willing to admit he was concerned, in his own way. “There’s a storm rollin’ in. You trying to freeze to death?”

“Trying to hunt a white wolf,” you replied, glancing back at the bait you’d just set and adjusting the bow you held in your hands, an arrow already grasped between two fingers. 

Fuckin’ hell, Arthur thought. ‘Course that’s what you’re out here doing.

“You ain’t gonna be hunting much of anything when you turn into an icicle,” he replied, hopeful that you would understand his taunting was coming from a place of concern – not control. “You got Scratch nearby?”

“I suppose you’re right,” you smiled, slipping the arrow back into the quiver on your back and whistling to call your horse back to you. You mounted up on the animal easily, Arthur taking the moment to appreciate how languid your movements were – how graceful. His eyes lingered at your waist for a moment longer than was decent.

“If I remember right there’s a cabin just up the road. Been empty the last few times I rode by,” he explained, his words offering more than just a place to shield from the freeze. 

Arthur wanted to spend time with you. You’d truly have to be a lunatic to think otherwise.

“Lead the way, cowboy.”

The snow picked up as the two of you rode side-by-side, both of your horses slowing as the powder piled up, creating heavier footsteps. While Arthur spoke to his horse beside you to soothe her through the storm, you could feel his eyes consistently on you despite the painful whip of flakes against his unshielded cheeks.

What could have been a short ride in the summer extended in the weather, and by the time the cabin approached view you had begun to shiver – something Arthur took note of. When he climbed from his horse he unrolled the blanket on the back of his saddle, passing it up to you before grabbing his shotgun. 

“I’ll check inside, you try not to shiver s’much you fall off your horse.”

He disappeared into the cabin, your mind focusing on the sounds of him moving about rather the piling snow that was sure to trap you for days. Keeping yourself wrapped in his blanket provided the additional comfort of his lingering scent, and you found yourself clutching the fabric tighter and tighter as the moments passed.

“This’ll be fine ‘til the storm’s passed,” he announced as he exited through the doors, voice raised so you could hear him over the wind. “You go on in while I get some firewood and hitch the horses.”

“I can help, you know,” you offered, eyebrows pulling together to communicate your frustration. 

“Would you stop your arguing for once and go inside out of this shit?”

By the time Arthur made his way in from the storm you’d used what wood remained in the cabin to start a fire, the flames warming the air around it quickly. The mattress was considerably dirty and out of the question, so you were validated in the decision to carry in your bedrolls and blankets, having set them up comfortably in front of the fire. 

His heavy boots sounded on the floor as he approached where you sat on the floor from behind, and while you couldn’t see him, you could feel his eyes on you. 

“Already got a fire going?”

“Uh huh,” you replied, noting the subtle shake to his voice. Arthur was strong, but he was human, and he was cold. The fact that he not only was willing to but insisted on suffering for you caused a knot to form in your stomach. “Got some whisky if you need help warming up.”

He simply grunted affirmatively in reply, setting the stack of wood carefully to the side and picking out the driest pieces to tend the fire with now. You tempted to hand the bottle out to him, the liquid going ignored as he began to peel off layer by layer, tossing the soaked clothing to the side lazily with little regard for how they ended up. Normally you’d have stood to hang the clothes, but you found yourself spellbound by the way Arthur’s muscles flexed with each movement under the simple wet damp button up shirt – the last remaining layer.

When he was somewhat comfortable, he turned to face you, eyes flashing with amusement as he took the bottle from your fingers. You were certain your mouth was hanging open and he’d caught you. At the moment, you could hardly bring yourself to care.

Hours passed as the two of you got warm and caught up over the last few weeks. You sat opposite one another, both wrapped in your own blankets and full of enough whisky to ignore the storm outside – to ignore everything but one another. Arthur hadn’t missed that most of your clothes lie neatly folded atop the countertop. The thought was repeating in his mind – the heavy question of what exactly remained under the blanket haunting him. 

He couldn’t be blamed for not being a good listener. 

“Arthur, are you even listenin’ to me?”

“Not a fuckin’ word,” he replied with one more small swig of whisky from the bottle, setting it well out of the way to the side. “Stop fuckin’ doin’ that if you want me to listen.”

“Doing what?”

You knew damn well what.

“Lookin’ at me like you want me to come crawl on top of you.”

Why on Earth would you ever stop doing that? 

“No.”

Your mouth was going to drive him to insanity one day. He wasn’t going to do a single thing about it.

“Did you just tell me ‘No’?” 

“Yeah, Arthur, I surely did,” you replied, quick and agile as you were on your feet. He was beginning to think you may only talk to hm this way, and that thought alone was enough to make him want to reach out to you. “Hoping you take the hint.”

The blanket he’d been using for himself was discarded to the side, your words finally snapping the thin thread of control that remained in him. He extended one arm outward toward the floor to support himself, outstretching his legs to be situated in a more comfortable position before his eyes found yours again. 

“Come on over here,” his invitation came thick as molasses and dripping just as sweet, his free hand patting his right thigh to give his words deeper meaning. “Bring the blanket.”

Arthur had finally figured out how to get you to stop arguing and basked in the glory of the moment as you crawled to him carefully, finding a comfortable seat in his lap as you straddled his thighs. He savored the view as you wrapped your arms around his neck, encompassing you both with the blanket, your face illuminated by the golden glow of the well-tended fire – beautiful, warm, inviting. 

He was more than happy to finally accept. 

“Are you gonna kiss me, Arthur?”

He knew you were trying to sound resolute as you always did – firm and demanding and impossible to deny. While those things lingered – he doubted they could ever truly be gone from you – what really laced your words was the quietest of whines. He sat up fully, bringing his torso closer to yours and grasping your hips in both hands, all the while your heart beating faster and faster in anticipation.

When you opened your mouth to let your protest be known again, he took his opportunity to claim your lips in a long-awaited kiss, the feeling of his lips caressing yours sucking the air from your chest immediately. He opted to slide his hands to your lower back to bring you in closer, pressing your chests together as he kissed you hungrily. Touch starved and overwhelmed by the feeling of you returning his kiss with soft lips he sought more of your skin, sliding his hands up the back of the loose blouse you remained in. 

“Clothes are still wet,” he grumbled against your lips, displeased by the cool touch to your skin that remained. You scrambled to reinitiate the kiss, your lips catching his bottom lip as a whine slipped through your lips. A quiet chuckle rumbled through his chest as he nuzzled your cheek with his nose. 

“Take them off, then,” you breathed out, bowing your head to press a delicate kiss to his neck. His own breath caught, arms wrapping tighter around you – almost too tight, almost too crushing. You made no move to stop him as you began to test the best places to leave your kisses, spurring him to release his hold on you to start peeling the last layers from both of you. 

Your lips brushed against the shell of his ear when all that remained were intimate coverings, a shaky groan rolling through his chest. His hands engulfed you, sliding up your torso until he cupped your breasts, dipping his head to claim your lips again. 

That kiss was hungry – starved – clumsy in ways that screamed of desperation. His thumbs rubbed over your nipples lightly, a smile evident on his lips despite the fact he continued to kiss you as a moan slipped from your throat. It spiraled from there, both of your hands exploring, your fingers the best thing he’d felt against his skin in a long time. As the pressure built heavier at your waist his hands trailed lower, one stopping to grasp your waist, the other slipping into the waistband of your underwear. 

He'd never heard music that sounded as good as the sound of the moan that left you as his thick fingers swiped through your wet folds, an appreciative hum shaking in his throat as you burrowed your face in his neck. 

“You’re already soaked for me, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice getting lower and lower with each word. He began to sink his index finger into you, grasping your hip tighter in his other hand. “Fuckin’ tight, too. Hell.”

“Arthur…”

“Aw, hush,” he cooed, turning his head to press a kiss to your temple as he curled his finger inside you, pulling a quiet whimper from you. “No point tryin’ to talk right now, darlin’ – just lemme take care of ya.”

He could take his sweet time, Arthur Morgan. He was a patient man, especially when it came to you, and never more-so than now as he began to work his finger in and out of your clenching heat. He added a second finger soon, pressing the heel of his hand to your clit to give you more pressure, which you gladly accepted by rocking your hips into it. 

As he pumped his fingers into you he began to trail kisses lower, the kisses growing heavier and wetter the further down he went. By the time he nipped at your hip with his teeth lightly you were breathless, eyes squeezed shut as you lost yourself to pleasure. He kissed across your waistline as he pulled your underwear down, smiling against your skin lightly when you kicked them free with frustrated fervor. 

Nothing up to this point compared to the feeling of Arthur sliding his tongue from his fingers to your clit, giving the sensitive bundle of nerves a soft suck. He repeated the motion as you struggled to even moan, your hands grasping at the blankets now on the floor beneath you as you tried to rock your hips into his face desperately.

“Easy, now,” Arthur reprimanded with quiet reverence behind his words, turning his head to press a kiss to your inner thigh softly. “I’m takin’ my time with you, don’t rush me.”

You finally opened your eyes, ready to give him an earful about being a tease, only to be frozen once again faced with the sight of Arthur, golden illuminated by the fire and somehow still wearing his hat tipped back on his head. You maintained eye contact with him as you reached forward with your hands, removing the hat with one hand and placing it on your own head as your fingers ran through his hair, giving a soft tug at the end. 

The growl vibrated through him and you as he connected his lips to your clit, pumping his fingers into you and connecting the tips, curling them skillfully to rub against the sensitive patch deep within you as he sucked your clit. All the while he maintained eye contact, even when he removed his mouth from you with one final flick of his tongue, just as he removed his fingers from you. 

“Arthur…” you whimpered in protest, tugging his hair again to try to bring him back to your needy core.

“Hush,” he instructed tenderly, slipping his hands under your ass and grasping firmly to lift your waist from the floor. He soaked in the view of your glistening folds at this angle and tested how it looked to watch one of his fingers slip into you before removing it, licking his lips again. “You are a pretty little thing, ain’t ya?”

Your reply was sucked from your chest and altered into a cry of pleasure as he spit on your folds, smearing the liquid around before connecting his thumb to your clit, rubbing a figure eight. Supporting your raised hips still with one hand he continued to rub your clit, now using his tongue to fuck into you rather than his fingers, tasting you how he’d wanted to for nearly a year now.

The pressure continued to build and boil, eventually reaching a point of eruption – all the usual signs there with your shaking thighs, shorter and desperate breaths, your nails scratching against his temple as you gripped whatever you could. Arthur figured it was a previously unknown bonus to him keeping his hair a little on the longer side. He groaned to encourage you, switching his movements to pump his fingers into you again, circling your clit with his tongue until you became incendiary, your first orgasm washing through you with white hot heat.

He continued to lap at your folds as you came, removing his tongue from you occasionally only to kiss your thighs and mutter tender praises as you came back down to your body. When you had some sense about yourself, he was crawling back up you, pressing kisses to your stomach and breasts before he reached your lips, offering you a taste of your own honey sweet pleasure on his tongue.

When the adoration filled amorous kiss ended so Arthur could breathe you began to trail kisses down his neck again, following a trail to his chest before his index finger caught under your chin, lifting you back up to him, cerulean eyes questioning.

“Your turn,” you offered, slipping one of your hands into the waistband of his underwear and wrapping your fingers around his throbbing cock slowly. Running your finger over the velvet head you smeared the pre-spend leaking already, biting at your swollen bottom lip when he moaned. 

“Not tonight, sweet thing,” he declined, his hesitation clear in his voice. You began to rub him gently – slowly – too damn slow – causing his eyes to roll back briefly. “You wrap these lips around me, and I won’t last long enough t’ fuck you.”

“Please.”

You didn’t truly know what you were begging for – for him to test himself and allow you to take his already throbbing cock into your mouth or for him to follow through on that promise to fuck you. Luckily, Arthur seemed to know exactly what your words were asking for – what you needed. 

He reached to remove your hand from his cock gently, freeing himself of his underwear before he gently moved you to your side, lying beside you with his back to the fire to shield you from getting too much heat, to ensure you didn’t get hurt. One arm wrapped around your waist while the other slid to cup your cheek in his hand, bringing you in closer to him as he kissed you again. 

As much fun as he’d been having teasing, he was done with the games now, and could no longer find the patience. He reached to lift your leg around his waist before grasping his cock, rubbing against your still-soaked entrance for a moment to gather some lubrication before he sank into you. Inch by inch disappeared into your velvet channel, the kiss practically halting as you gasped. He leaned his forehead against yours instead, grasping your waist gently as he continued to slip into you.

“Atta fuckin’ girl,” he breathed out. The large hand that still cupped your cheek slipped downward to rest against your neck instead, his fingertips digging into your skin in attempt to steady himself, to savor your pulse beneath his touch. “Takin’ me so good. You doin’ okay?”

You nodded as you stared into his eyes, pupils blown wide and mouth hanging open already at the feeling of him stretching you, almost too full but not something you’d be willing to give up anytime soon. When he’d fully seated himself within you, his cock buried to the hilt he released a shaky groan of his own, his eyes briefly closing as he savored the feeling of being wrapped up in you.

“Goddamn you’re tight,” he groaned out, pressing several light kisses to your lips before grinding his hips into yours slightly. “Shoulda crawled ‘tween your legs months ago.”

“Would…ah…woulda let you,” you managed to reply, pressing your lips to his in an unabashedly salacious kiss, already perfecting how to slot your lips against his in a way that left him craving more. He couldn’t hold back his movements any longer and began to pump into you repeatedly, setting a wanton and quick pace that somehow managed to remain tender and reverent.

He could only be tender for so long, desperation and months of waiting and yearning building in him. His movements began to get sloppy sooner than he’d have liked, though he felt better when your walls began to flutter and clench around him, your thigh shaking around his hip slightly. He picked up his pace to a much more relentless one, driving his cock into you and into your spongy cervix repeatedly as his grunts became more frequent, pressing kisses to your neck now.

“Want you to finish while I’m inside you,” he instructed, though there was something so subtly desperate behind his words – a quiet beg that only someone who knew him would recognize. “Think you can do that for me, darlin’?”

You nodded before leaning your head back again, quiet cries leaving your lips as he connected his thumb to your clit again, immediately choosing a relentless pace to rub in circles. You were almost certain you’d do anything he asked and soon enough you were pushed over the edge again, your walls clenching him so tight he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to remove himself. He did his best to continue pumping into you roughly now as he sought his own release, certain you wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. Like you’d need to, anyway. 

“F-fill me up, Arthur,” you begged unexpectedly through your euphoria, and he didn’t need anything else to convince him. With only a few more bruising thrusts he stilled inside you as he emptied his seed in hot ropes into you, groaning loudly as he lazily leaned his forehead to yours again, his own eyes screwed shut.

He didn’t remove himself from you when you’d both ridden your orgasms, instead holding you close and reaching to cover the two of you in one of the blankets that was on the floor. He wrapped his arms around you tightly to hold you closer to him, slipping one of his legs between yours for additional comfort and warmth. Still semi-hard with plenty of stamina to offer you couldn’t ignore the feeling of him seated in you still, buried as deep as possible as he brushed his nose against yours. 

“Be a whole lot warmer this way,” he offered, giving a subtle move of his hips to emphasize the meaning behind his words. He pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose before reaching upward to kiss your forehead, leaving his lips resting there. He was right – you did finally feel warm.

“Mm,” was all you could reply, laying your head against his shoulders and closing your eyes, burrowing your face into his neck. He smiled as you managed to press lazy kisses into his neck before wrapping your arms around him as well. 

“Think I’ll keep you here all winter,” he offered after several blissful moments, his head leaning to rest on the top of yours as his own eyes closed. He pressed one final kiss to your temple before succumbing to the comfort of you fully.

“Always knew you were a big teddy bear, Arthur,” you teased. How you managed to run your mouth still after he’d fucked you right was beyond him – but it was also probably a reason he’d want to keep fucking you.

“We’ll call it hibernation, then.”

masterlist. red dead redemption masterlist.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #arthur morgan fanfiction #arthur morgan smut #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 smut

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #6: A Mother’s Love

Gotham still remembers when she was just a young Neverborn. When her bay was first discovered and settlements were newly established. Her consciousness like the budding town was growing slowly but surely. By the 1800s she was almost fully grown and by the 1900s she knew her name. She knew who she was.

She was Lady Gotham: Queen of the City of Corruption, Mistress of the Den of Madness, Ruler of No Man's Land, Mother of Poor Souls.

She was a Neverborn Spirit of the Infinite Realms who was well acquainted with disaster and misery. She was the sovereign of her own haunt and territory, and vassal under the king. (A king to whom she swore no loyalty)

She knew her flaws and she knew the flaws of those who were Hers but she loved them nonetheless. When she was still young she spent her energy trying to nourish her people, unfortunately, she was but a reflection of her mortal haunt. There was little she could do aside from slightly bending the rules to exert control over the physical aspects of her haunt or to extend her power to those who would need it most. As she grew older she also had to divide her care among the ghosts in her spectral haunt, for they were Hers too, now within her grasp.

She remembers when the Clown first arrived. He was horrible, an outsider, an interloper, and a scourge to her haunt. He was not Hers and she refused to claim him despite his fancy to call himself the Clown Prince of Gotham. No, he was more a Fool than anything else. She made it known within the realms to all those living in her spectral haunt that should the Fool ever make it to the realms than his fate would be up to her (Perhaps her former paramour would grant her a boon and keep him trapped in an eternal nightmare).

She remembers when her Dark Knight first arrived in her defense. She was struck to see him, for he had been one of Hers. He had been gone for many years but returned to her and he wished to help her, to protect her. She accepted him as her Knight, extending her power on occasion to cloak him in shadows and fear. Though she cherished her Knight she wished he was capable of more. (She wished he would cross lines she could not, but she knew he wouldn't because he could not either).

She remembers the first little Squire her Knight took in. He was not of her but she would claim him as Hers too. He was eager to help her and those who were Hers. He was the first bit of Wonder she and Hers had had in a long time. He cared for her too but eventually, he would grow to be more than a Squire and would leave her too. Though he was gone, he still had a place in the city as one of her Knights.

She remembers the second little Squire. Her very own homegrown Hope. Sure he was a bit more rough and decisive but he cared. He was so deeply and truly Hers. He grew up in her streets and he understood her and Hers better than any of her knights so far. He was young, full of life and a desire to help, and he believed he could be magic. She was devastated when he left, lured away by the promise of a mother, then tricked and fallen into the hands of the Fool. She was devastated when he returned to her broken and mangled.

In her distress she remembered that the Tyrant had been overthrown recently. There was a new king, one who had not even reached his majority yet. The Boy King, The Benevolent King, The Protector, The Peace Maker, The One with the Cloak of Stars and the Crown of Frozen Light, The Perfect Balance.

He had not yet risen to full power but he had united the Counsel of Ancients. She could appeal to them and to him. She could swear her loyalty in exchange for borrowed power. Even if he refused, it would not stop her. His help would prevent her from growing too weak but his refusal would mean nothing to her.

True to his title, the Benevolent King granted her a boon, her loyalty and support for a temporary amplification of her own power and permission to cross over. She thanked the Boy King for his Kindness and fled back to her haunt, ready to manifest onto the mortal plane for the first time in centuries.

When she found him she was overwhelmed with grief. Her voice echoed like sirens in the wind. Her fingernails elongated as she reached out. Her appearance grew more haggard as spectral winds swirled around her. She cried black tears over his grave summoning her power to channel his soul.

If the boy wanted to help he could help those in her spectral haunt.

If the boy wanted to make a difference, he could help her exert her power over her mortal haunt.

If the boy wanted a family, then she would be his Mother.

If the boy wanted to live, he could live in the Realms with Her.

Her form flickered vanishing from the mortal plane. Back in her spectral haunt, she held a young figure in her arms. She overflowed with gratefulness promising herself she would introduce the young boy to the King when she got the chance. He deserved to see how much he'd done for her. She gathered up her presence and made a declaration to the realm:

Here was the heir to her power

Here was the being that was most truly Hers

Here was the true Son

Her very own Little Prince of Gotham.

~~~

Okay a couple of things:

Did I imply the Joker is not a Gotham Native? Yes, I did. I also implied that if he ever became a ghost it would be on sight for him by Lady Gotham.

Did I imply that Lady Gotham has two haunts? Yes, I did. She has actual Gotham and then the ghost version in the Infinite Realms where a lot of the ghosts of people who died in Gotham live.

Did I imply that Lady Gotham and Fright Knight were romantically involved at one point? Yes, I did.

The goal of this was to literally make Jason the "Son of Gotham", a term I've seen thrown around before. I feel like Lady Gotham would love to be a mom and finally give Jason a decent parent, albeit one that treads the line between creepy and Eldritch Horror.

I included Danny as the new Ghost King even though he's not technically ruling yet. He has the Council of Ancients running things and he has a regent but idk who yet. He's still involved in the decision-making process bc a.) He's super powerful, b.) he's still technically ruler, and c.) it's a good way for him to learn about ruling which he will have to do eventually.

Yes, it is my intention to have Jason and Danny meet in the Ghost Zone later. Give some good bonding and friendship (eventually crushes on each other).

I have a couple ideas for things that may happen in this au but if anyone gets their own ideas or wants to write this then feel free to share or ask about it.

#dp x dc prompt #dc x dp #jason todd #lady gotham #danny fenton #danny phantom #ghost king danny #ghost adoption #lady gotham just wants to take care of those that are Hers #mom!lady gotham #romance eventually #jason todd x danny fenton #dead on main #Strega’s dc x dp prompt 6

[wordstome]

the execution of lady jane grey

I got drunk and Tiktok showed me history_alice's video about this painting by Paul Delaroche. And since God has cursed me for my hubris and my work is never finished, have some medieval executioner König x fem mc. Also, Lady Jane Grey was executed by Mary Tudor (Bloody Mary), not by Henry the VIIIth (the one with the six wives), but I blended the stories just because I can.

1.3k words

König doesn't ask questions.

It's never been his job to ask questions. The king points, and he does the dirty work. Most of the time, he takes pleasure in it: thieves, rapists, murderers, they all answer to his justice. And sure, a true loyal citizen might argue that he's simply enacting the king's justice, but it's König who swings the axe, is it not? In the end, König decides their fate.

In theory, anyway. In practice, this is simply his job. He keeps his head down and does what he's told. He stays quiet about the king's secret executions, the ones that happen in the dungeons instead of out in the open courtyard where the smallfolk gather to watch. It's hypocritical, honestly. They all look at König like he's a monster, some spectre of death among men, but when there's a public execution to be held, are they not the ones clamoring and pushing to be at the front?

There are some times when the king's executions are more...dubious. An advisor who voiced dissent one too many times. A thief stealing barley from the royal stables to feed his family, made an example of. A young man, just a boy really, accused of murdering four grown men—convenient, considering all four men's wives had been found in the king's bed at some point or another.

Those are the executions König prefers not to think about. The ones that haunt him in his dreams anyway. Those are the ones that make him yearn for his days in the army: when the people he killed were as faceless as his hood was to them, when he didn't know them and didn't have to think about the loved ones they left behind. König's never claimed to be a good person, the opposite in fact. But sometimes when he brings the blade down, he imagines a different, more royal neck on the block instead.

He feels this way now, as he watches her make her way to the block.

She's ethereal in her petticoat, the soft silken material reflecting what little light there is in the cold stone room and bathing her in a warm glow. Gentle and obedient into her own grave.

The king's wife. Sent to the block for treason, of all things. But everyone knows the truth: he's only killing this poor woman because he plots to put his latest mistress on the throne. Just a few weeks ago, this sweet young thing was the king's main obsession. She stood no chance at all, the daughter of a local lord currying favor with royalty. And now, she's being put to death through no fault of her own. The injustice grinds König's teeth, and takes his mind to a dark, dangerous place.

If she was his, he would never so much as let another woman cross his mind again. He's seen her about the palace grounds, with her beautiful bright eyes and lively smile, skirts trailing behind her like the tail feathers of an exotic bird. Just watching her had made him feel young again, no longer the brutish old soldier everyone averted their eyes from.

He's only spoken to her once, but he'll never forget it. He had been in her way, but she was the one who apologized. Most people would have seen the hood and backed away in fear, but not her. He watched, frozen and unable to say a single word, as she curtseyed and looked at him with, of all things, a shy curiosity. For one still, breathtaking moment, he held her gaze in his, and he felt like they were the last two people remaining on earth.

Then her lady in waiting had touched her on the elbow, and the spell was broken as they continued on their way. But König had never forgotten.

That same lady in waiting is here now, eyes puffy as she holds the queen's elaborate dress and jewelry in her lap. She had chosen to take it off, so as not to stain the expensive fabrics with her blood. How can she be so considerate of others, when the whole world has failed her so?

She turns to him, trembling like a little bird, and meets his gaze. The words come out before he can help himself.

"I beg your forgiveness," he blurts out, and almost immediately mentally scolds himself. What right does he have, of all people, to ask for her grace?

"Of course, sir," she says, her voice clear and sweet. Surely, he can't feel any more wretched than he does right now...and then she speaks again.

"I only pray you dispatch me quickly..." She turns a fearful eye to the wooden block, sitting almost innocently on top of the straw laid down to soak up her lifeblood. "Will...will you take it before I lay me down?"

"No, madam," he whispers.

She nods, and with a sudden streak of iron will, ties the blindfold about her head. König knows this is a kindness: she'll never see him coming. And yet his heart aches to see her cover up those beautiful eyes.

A loud sob comes out of the lady in waiting, watching her young mistress fumble around blindly. König's heart shatters when she lets out a little cry of confusion as the lieutenant of the prison rushes to hold her steady. "What shall I do? Where is it?"

König feels a sudden streak of anger, at the gentle way the lieutenant lowers her to the ground. The man clearly knows this is wrong, and yet will not lift a finger to help her.

Guilt strikes him yet again as he remembers that neither is he.

Or is he?

He stares down at her, this vulnerable little lamb sent to the slaughter, her pretty neck exposed for his blade, and he knows what he has to do.

The lady in waiting cries out in anguish as the blade lowers to the queen's head, causing her to gasp as the cold metal brushes against her skin. But instead of cutting her head off, König slices through her blindfold with a deft precision.

"What is the meaning of this?" The lieutenant demands as the queen scrambles from her kneeling position. König offers his arm, and she takes it, her hands warm against his sleeve as she stands up. The confusion is writ plain on her face, but her eyes shine with an innocent hope that only steels König's resolve.

"You," König says, pointing his axe at the lieutenant, who shuffles backwards nervously. "You will tell the king that she has been executed. If he asks for a body, find one: I don't care which one. And if you tell anyone what happened here today, I swear to you that I will water the earth with your blood, and the blood of every family member in your line." His eyes narrow at the lieutenant. "Do I make myself clear?" The man nods, stuck still with terror.

The queen's lady in waiting rushes forward, pressing jewels into her hands. "My lady, you will need these," she says urgently. "For wherever life takes you next." She gives König a determined look. "Take care of her, sir."

The queen's eyes go wide and round as she looks up at König. "I don't understand."

He kneels to her height, taking her hands in his. "I am taking you away from this place," he tells her, his voice low and urgent. "But you need to trust me."

She closes her eyes, and takes one deep, trembling breath before opening them again. "I trust you."

"Good." She yelps as he picks her up in his arms, hands instantly darting about his shoulders. "I am sorry, my lady, but we don't have much time."

She giggles, giggles, in his arms. "I don't mind," she says, with a mischievous little look that invites trouble. God, he is utterly fucked, isn't he?

"I can give you time, but not much," the lieutenant says. "Go!"

König doesn't need to be told twice.

To be honest with you, I have no idea what this is. I wrote this in, like. An hour. I think a demon possessed me. I don't think I'm going to write more of this au, but who knows!

@danibee33 @kneelingshadowsalome @crowbird @poohkie90 @cumikering @iytatsworld @papaver-decervicatus @anxietyrain @riotakire @ax0lotly @cookiepie111 @kacchasu @no1runawaymilkdad @chthonian-spectre @backwards-readings @yxllowtxpe @garbau @hexqueensupreme @queenthorin1 @violetstyless @her-majesty-theking @vegan-peppermint @peonytarian @ghostslittlegf @euuuuuuun @e1x03 @kokonoiwife @deaddainish @dragonfang @teehee-47 @catluvwr @keiva1000 @waves-against-a-cliff @channelsoph @cutiecusp @itsagrimm @dins-riduur-anthe @mantishymns @lexuria

#könig #konig #könig cod #konig cod #konig x reader #könig x reader #cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #mw2 #könig x you #konig x you

[irisintheafterglow]

No Prey, No Pay (opla!zoro x you)

summary: after steering him to a successful bounty, zoro can't stop thinking about you. he decides to do something about it. (Part 2 to Parley)

wc: 1.67k

cw/tags: domestic zoro crumbs, idiots in love but they don't know how to express it, canon-typical violence, zoro is so himbo i love him

note: thank you for all the love on my first two zoro posts!!!! i'm so so so happy y'all liked them; this is one of the first times in a while i've actually been super giddy writing a character. i really hope he's not too ooc, i tried to keep his himbo-ness intact. hope you enjoy!!!

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

“Here to try killing me again?”

“Oh,” is all he can sputter out, frozen on the doorstep of the Lady’s manor. The stout, shriveled old woman before him was not who he was looking for. To make matters worse, the flower he’d picked from the hillside on his way up the driveway suddenly seemed like a gargantuan beanstock in his fingers. His face was warming but, for the life of him, he could not figure out why. “You’re not–”

“Nope. They’re in the Farmers’ Market,” she deadpans without hesitation, eyeing him with all the amusement of a PhD candidate reading a children’s book. “The Farmers’ Market I created, by the way.” 

“Right,” he replies shortly, turning abruptly on his heel and letting his eyes widen in pure horror when she can’t see his face. He tosses the flower into a nearby planter, well aware that she can still see his every move. After several misguided attempts to navigate back to your isolated piece of land in the East Blue, he approached the ornately decorated door with a little more excitement than he expected. Having the Lady whom he’d tried to kill a few weeks prior be the one to open the door was another funny twist of irony that caused him an odd feeling of embarrassment, like he’d dropped you off after a date ten minutes past your curfew. “Thank you for your time.” 

“Tell me, pirate hunter,” she called to his back patronizingly. “Why grace us again with your oh-so-menacing presence?” 

“I’m wondering the exact same thing,” he mutters, irritated at his failed attempt to find you on the first try. 

“When you find them, tell them to pick up more sweet potatoes. I thought we had enough for dinner, but we could use a few more now that you’re here,” the Lady instructs him and her words take a few seconds to register in his mind. But, by the time he’s turned around to ask her what she meant, the door is already shut and he’s too proud to knock again. 

As if the mortification on your porch wasn’t enough, it’s nearly impossible to find you in the milling swarms of people in town. The people part naturally for him as he passes, sneaking anxious glances at the three swords on his hip. Whispers of his occupation and intentions float around his ears but he pays them no mind, determined to spot you. Again, he wasn’t sure what he was doing there in the first place; but, no matter what anyone else said, he did know one thing. By some unexpected turn of Fate, he missed you. 

“Shopping for produce while you hunt? I didn’t know you could multitask.” The teasing lilt of your voice appears behind him and he can’t help smirking. You’d found him before he found you, even though it was his job to find people. “Word to the wise: the vendors will upcharge you because they know you’re not from the island.” 

“What if you’re there with me?” When he finally turns to face you, his eyes flick to the canvas bag slung over your shoulder. It’s stuffed with fruits and vegetables, along with a jar of honey from the beekeeper just up the road from your house. 

“They’ll upcharge you more and insist you pay for my stuff,” you reply nonchalantly. “Now that I think of it, maybe we should walk around together.” You brush past him and re-enter the bustling square like he was the last thing on your mind, when really he was the only thing for the past week. You’re certain he’d follow behind you and your theory is confirmed when his voice comes from over your right shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

“You’re wearing the bracelet,” he observes, easily slipping into place next to you as if it was natural to be by your side. With the sword-clad bounty hunter next to you, it was much easier to navigate the market without bumping every resident of the island. 

“Mhmm, I told you I liked it,” you say absentmindedly, stopping at a stand and picking up a vibrantly colored fruit from the stack. Observing it for bruises and finding none, you signal the seller that you’d like to buy the piece in your hand. His farm-worn hand stretches out to you and you fish around in your bag briefly for coins. But, before you can place the money in his hand, Zoro’s fingers are already dropping an unnecessarily large quantity into the shocked farmer’s palm. You gape at him and his unchangingly blank expression, shaking your head in disbelief when he glances at you, eyes shining arrogantly. “Where’d you get all that money and why did you do that?” 

“Bounties,” he answers plainly, “and ‘cause I wanted to. Next stand?” You’re still slightly frozen from pure surprise, but he shrugs carefreely and tilts his head toward the rest of the vendors.

“Feel like enlightening me on why you’re here again?” It’s the fourth or fifth stand he’s accompanied you to and, at this point, you were just window-shopping. Since he joined you on your errand, you hadn’t spent any more money; before you could pay any of the sellers, they were already thanking you profusely for your generosity with a pile of shining coins in their hands. Zoro proved to be a very patient companion, respectfully giving his opinions on which piece of produce looked bigger or more appetizing. With most of the required items on your shopping list successfully in your bag, you find yourself drifting over to the stalls of mundane things like pretty flowers and colorful crystals. 

“There’s a Marine defector turned intelligence smuggler hiding somewhere in the area. Thought I’d knock out two birds with one stone.” You turn over a piece of aventurine in your fingers, admiring it from different angles in the sunlight. Your breath hitches slightly when Zoro’s face dips down next to yours, watching the crystal from the same angle. 

“What’s the other bird?” You glance at him from the corner of your eye. 

“Visiting you,” he replies without hesitation, plucking the crystal from your fingers and tossing more coins at the vendor. You don’t stop the laugh that escapes your mouth and you swear his smirk gets more self-assured as he drops the rock into your bag. At a point when you aren’t looking, he swings your bag onto a broad shoulder as easily as if it was a piece of paper. “Also, we need sweet potatoes.” Your eyebrows raise in amusement at his slip. 

“We?” You have to fight down another giggle when his face becomes slightly pinker, imperceptible if you weren’t already staring at him. “Since when were we anything?”

“Your boss said she needed more sweet potatoes. Don’t shoot the messenger.” 

“I wasn’t aware that you went to go see her.”

“I wasn’t either, and then she opened the door instead of you,” he admits and you chuckle at his expression of distaste. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have–get behind me.” Before he can finish his thought, his arm shoots out in front of you, effectively halting you a split second before a knife darts across your vision, embedding itself into the wooden post next to you. The surrounding market-goers break into chaotic panic and you have no choice but to press your back against Zoro’s to prevent getting swept away. Emerging from the crowd, a lethal-looking group of fighters encircle you two and your hand finds the hilt of your saber. 

“Pirates?”

“No. Bounty hunters.”

“Friends of yours?” You eye the group warily as the marketplace empties, people running into the nearest building they could find to spectate the upcoming battle. 

“I’d call them ‘occupational competition’ on a good day.”

“Ah, great,” you huff sarcastically. “What’d you do to piss them off?”

“Exist,” he deadpans and you hum in assent. 

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” you mutter and you start to pull your blade from its sheath, anticipating the fight ahead of you.

“Don’t.” The single word halts your movements and your stomach drops in fear of what he’s sensing.

“What?”

“Let me handle this,” he says in a low tone that makes your skin break into goosebumps. “Can you hold the bag while I deal with them?”

“You sure?”

“Yep. This won’t take long,” he says irritatedly, scowling at the rival hunters that interrupted his day.

“Alright. I’m gonna go get sweet potatoes, then.”

“Third one down on the left. I’ll meet you over there,” he promises before moving faster than you can comprehend, whirling and downing the two attackers in front of you without even drawing his swords. They howl in pain when you stab your blade into their feet for good measure before leisurely making your way further down the street. As you walk, Zoro clears the path for you, mercilessly incapacitating every enemy with ease. By the time you find the sweet potato stall, there’s only one persistent fighter still giving the swordsman problems. You don’t feel any ounce of fear, however, as you pick through the salvageable gourds while the clashing of swords rings out behind you. Eventually, the street quiets and Zoro returns to your side as if nothing happened at all. “Good?”

“I’m fine,” you say truthfully, running your thumb over the bruise of an otherwise good potato. “You think this one’s still okay?” After peering at it and deeming it safe, he nods.  

“Yeah, it should be fine. If anything, you can just cut off the ugly spot.” There’s a splattering of red just under his eye when you meet his gaze. Your fingers unconsciously come up to wipe the speck of blood from his cheek and his skin feels just as electric as the first time you touched him. 

“Cool. I’m done shopping then, so we can go back home.”

“We?”

“You’re staying for dinner. It isn’t a request,” you command lightheartedly and smile when his steps fall into line next to yours. 

“Mmm, I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #opla!zoro x you #opla!zoro x y/n #opla!zoro x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n

[madamevirgo]

Here I am, Here I remain.

Pairing: Lady Jessica x (f)reader

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Spoilers!!, angst, fluff, Chani

A/N: So, I was absolutely not planning on writing a sequel to this, but some of you started asking, and my brain started working, and this came out at 3:30am. There will not be a third part to this, but this is of course not my last Lady Jessica work. Also, note that there are spoilers in this. I have seen Dune: Part 2, 5 times already so it's literally engraved in my brain and on my eyelids. I hope those who wanted a sequel to this little story of mine aren't disappointed. Big shoutout to the person who submitted the original request. If you haven't already, follow me on Twitter so we can be moots and talk about our faves :) Happy reading.

Part 1

After that night, there had been a noticeable shift in your relationship with The Reverend Mother. 

In public, you no longer walked five paces behind. It was more common to see you by her side or no more than a step behind, watching her back like a hawk. So much so so, that people had taken to calling you ‘The Shadow’ - the thought that people saw you as an extension of her, filled you with an indescribable amount of joy.

There was now a certain lightness to the Reverend Mother as if you were the missing piece to her complete acceptance of her new reality. She was quicker to laugh and seemed much more focused and involved in the fate of the Fremen. She had stopped talking to her belly so much as she turned to you, her confidante - sometimes you were more of a sounding board than anything, but you were more than happy to have her throw ideas at you if it helped her in any way. 

In private, things had also changed for the better. It was rare for there to be silence between you two, times in private were spent telling the other of life before each other; and in her case, how she was adapting to her new role and life. She told you of her parentage, she now knew the identity of at least one of her parents, and you had shared how Stilgar had raised you like his own daughter. You had developed a complicity that surpassed friendship, but you also weren’t sure how to describe this thing between you. ‘Friendship’ felt both like a gross oversimplification yet anything else carried an aura of delusion. The lingering looks, the gentle touches exchanged and the comfort that she provided, brought forth feelings that you hadn’t previously experienced. Every moment spent in her company seemed too short. 

It was because you had become so close emotionally, that it had been easy for you to notice oddities in her behaviour. She was more on edge, jumping at loud noises and snapping at the smallest thing. She also watched you as if you would disappear at any moment, which caused her to be clingy and on edge whenever you weren’t next to her. Pretty soon, you had concluded, that she had foreseen something. 

You had tried to broach the subject: “I see that something is troubling you, my lady.” you had whispered one day while you ate in the communal space. “Won’t you share the burden with me, so that you might breathe a little easier, at least?” she had frozen for a second, a change barely visible to untrained eyes, before relaxing.

“I cannot say.” she had said simply before continuing to eat. 

“You don’t deny that it is something?” you exclaimed silently. You had expected her to deny it. “Why won’t you tell me, it is clearly causing you to worry.” You were getting agitated now, and when you noticed some heads looking in your direction with veiled curiosity, you took a deep breath to calm yourself. 

“I have been cursed with knowledge.” she started slowly, quietly - collecting her thoughts as she spoke. “I see many different outcomes for many different decisions, and hear the voices of all those before me whispering in my head. I always worry, sometimes a bit more than usual. I can handle it, what I will not stand for, however, is you asking for things I cannot give.” You flinched, as she continued her rampage. “I cannot share everything with you; because sharing them will not do anything other than put a burden on your shoulder, a burden that I must carry alone.” she finished 

“Bu-” you started

“Enough!” was the command that came out of her mouth. The sheer force of the order had your body recoiling and your mind spinning, forcing you into silence. 

It took you a few seconds before you could regain your senses. You looked around in confusion, before setting your eyes on her, and the shock of the realization caused your eyes to open and your chest to heave. She had used the voice on you. 

She had used the voice on you. 

The communal room had never been so silent. Not even during nighttime, as there were always Fremen patrolling around. Yet, right now it was so quiet that you could hear your heart beating in your ears as your body felt hot with embarrassment, shock and hurt. You sensed a movement in front of you, but before she could say or do anything else, you had stood up and left. Not looking back, and avoiding the eyes that followed you out of the communal space. 

—------------------

Stilgar and Chani were rarely, if ever on the same page. However, one thing that they could agree on, was that you were the best of them. You didn’t agree. Although you did try to control your anger, preferred to think before acting when possible and trusted until proven wrong, you could never escape the Fremen pride. 

The Reverend Mother, Jessica, had in just a second, taken away your free will and reduced you to a puppet. And she did it in front of your people. You were shaking with silent anger, your fists were clenched, and your nails were creating bloody half-moon cuts in your palms. Had it been any other weirding woman - had you been any other Fremen - you would have slit her throat. Instead, you walked away to calm yourself. 

Your steps guided you to your childhood home. You walked right in and slammed the door behind you, closed your eyes and leaned against it for support, before pushing forward with a harsh kick of your feet against the wooden entrance. 

“What did my door do to you?” You meant to go to your room and ruminate in peace, but the voice of your father had you enter the living room where he sat on a cushion he used for prayer and meditation. 

You stayed quiet as you paced up and down the living room, trying and failing to calm down. Never in your life had you been so angry. 

“First my door, now my floor. What is the matter with you?” you heard Stilgar ask, still you didn’t stop. It was only when he grabbed you by your shoulders that you stopped and let out a growl-like sigh. “Come, let’s sit and you can tell me what has angered you so,” he said as he led you to the couch.

You suddenly felt like a child again, like when you would have a nightmare or the other children would tease you to tears and you would run to him. He would sit you on his lap and hug you in his big arms and make everything better, everything would go away. 

Except now, you were an adult with grown-up feelings and responsibilities - and he couldn’t make this - whatever it was - go away. You still told him, about how you’d grown close to Lady Jessica and how she was worried about something, and how when you’d asked, out of concern, she’d used the voice on you. 

You expected him to get just as angry if not more than you, but he remained calm and thoughtful. 

Finally he said: “She said you were asking for things she couldn’t give?” he questioned. 

“Did you not hear the part where I said she used The Voice on me?” you asked in exasperation before getting up and resuming your pacing. 

“Do you know why I assigned you to her?’ he asked instead of answering your question.

“Because I’m your daughter and you trust me? Because I’m one of the best Fedaykin, because I’m a good diplomat? I don’t know father.” You snapped. He was angering you even more. 

“Yes, to all these.” He agreed as you sighed. “But, the real reason I assigned you to the Reverend Mother is because she needs a friend and you are the only person I know who wouldn’t be judgemental, or rude. You would give her a chance before anything else.” He explained as you stopped your pacing to listen to him. “The Bene Gesserit see more than we do, because of their training. A Reverend Mother sees even more. She is cursed with all the knowledge of the past and that of the future while seeing all the outcomes possible. It’s a big responsibility.” He said lost in thought. “It makes for a lonely life. One I have forced her to live. I guess it was only right that I gave her something to help her out.” he finished. 

“I can understand that, but that still doesn’t make up for her removing my free will like that,” You whisper as you sit next to him. 

“You have to understand that pushing her won’t do any good, and although you wish to help yoheru carry this load - you can’t. The only thing you can do is be there for her - by her side - and wait until she comes to you,” he said 

“When will that be?” You whispered 

“When she’ll be ready,” he replied. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/n. You’ve been a very positive presence in her life.” he hesitated, “I believe that what hurt you the most is the fact that she said she might not be able to give you what you were asking for.” he started, “Perhaps you took it and applied it to some more…romantic feelings of yours.” he finished with a small smile, as I felt heat rush all over my body. 

“Stilgar!” You exclaimed in embarrassment 

“I may be getting old, but my eyes still work. I see how you’ve been around her. This will be something to acknowledge when you’re ready.” he finished and I sighed.

“Thank you, father,” You say with a soft smile, which he returns.

Our moment was interrupted by a loud noise that shook the entire yali, followed by screams. You were immediately on your feet as you rushed out.

Your heart beating widely in your chest. 

—--------------------------------------------

Chaos was everywhere you looked. Children and adults alike rushed to escape the Sietch or to find loved ones lost in the panic as you were being attacked. 

You helped where you could, but you only had one thing on your mind, and that was to find Jessica. You wanted to believe that she had been rushed out by the fanatics of the prophecy, but you wouldn’t leave until you were absolutely sure. Why did I run away like a petulant child? You asked yourself. You’d never forgive yourself if something had happened to her. 

You ran from corner to corner as you helped some of the men and Fedaykin lead the people out to the rocks outside. Stilgar wasn’t too far and was shouting orders for the people to stay calm as rushing would only make things worse. 

You could see some bodies already lathering the floor as people passed you with missing appendages, tears in their eyes and their skin covered in blood. You probably didn’t fare much better - dust had covered your skin and your sight had been hindered. Still, you pushed through. I have to find her.

“Y/n!” You looked to Stilgar. “Get out of here!” He shouted and you shook my head, he sighed and you continued searching around for her, and helping people to the exit. 

From the corner of your eyes, you saw a large boulder rushing towards a little girl who was crying and screaming for her parents. You ran, as fast as you could and swept her up in your arms and out of the way before the rock could hit her. A woman who must have known her, grabbed her from you, and you urged them towards the exit. 

Still, you couldn’t find her, and the attacks didn’t stop. Most people were out, and you hadn’t caught a glimpse of her or even heard a mention of her name. Why did I leave her?

You suddenly found yourself on the ground as you were knocked down. You watched with blurry eyes, as you were trampled on as feet rushed past you. No one stopped to help you. Before you surrendered to the darkness, you heard Stilgar’s voice screaming your name, and your last thought was to Jessica. I hope she’s safe. Please be safe.

—--------------------

You slowly open your eyes to darkness, and for a moment you were afraid you had lost your eyesight. You slowly sat up, every bone in your body protesting and looked around before letting out a sigh of relief. You were in a cave and could see and hear the hustling around.

You got up, your movements slow and tentative before walking out and into the desert. You could see the damage that had been done, people around you were crying, and shouting. So many lost, who had done this? You could feel anger resurfacing in you, and you were suddenly reminded that Jessica was still missing. 

All around you, people were busy doing something as you looked for her. You noticed Shishakli some paces away and quickly walked to her. She noticed you and pulled you in a hug, only slightly hurting you.

“Thank the Maker,” she whispered as you closed your arms around her. “You scared me, Stilgar and Chani have been so worried. We all were,” she said as you separated from the hug, but her hands stayed on your forearms.

You felt a slight pang of guilt at not having spared a thought to her and the others.  

“What happened?” You asked, your voice coming out hoarse.

“Harkonnens” she growled. “They used some primitive explosives on us. Caught us by surprise. We’re treating our wounded before making our way South. A council has been called.” She explained. 

“Is Stilgar in any shape to speak?” You asked in concern, looking around for him. 

“He looks shaken up, but he’ll be okay. I hear he’s pushing for Usul to speak,” she said and you looked at her in shock. Only leaders could speak in the South. 

Surely - No. Paul wouldn’t. Of that you were certain. You had spent enough time with his mother to know what he was and wasn’t capable of. A voice in the back of your head whispered: Paul wouldn’t, but what about the Kwisatz Haderach?

You banished those thoughts. And focused on your friend and what you really cared about. 

“Where is the Reverend Mother?” you asked, the concern and urgency detectable even to your ears. Without a word, Shishakli pointed behind you, where you could see two people standing at the very top of a rock. 

“Her and Usul are discussing as she waits for her palanquin to be ready to leave.” You thanked her, before rushing towards the two Atreides. 

You arrived as their conversation ended and Paul was leaving. He nodded at you in greeting.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, with a glance back at his mother. “Take care of my mother and sister for me, will you?” he asked as you nodded. The ‘with my life’ was implied. And he left, seemingly satisfied with your answer. 

You were left alone with his mother. You took a breath before looking at her, she was staring right back at you. Her eyes said more than you could understand. Something about the way she looked at you was different. 

“I’m sorry,” 

“I’m sorry” 

You smiled as you spoke at the same time. “No, wait. I’ll go first.” you started. “I’m sorry I left like that, I was angry. I’m still angry, but I got so scared when I couldn’t find you. I looked around until I passed out, not kn-” You were cut off as you felt yourself rambling.

Jessica had crossed the small distance between you and pulled in a hug, her head resting in the crook of your neck. You held your breath for a moment, before wrapping your arms around her and breathing in her scent. You could finally breathe normally, for the first time since breakfast. 

“I wish you hadn’t looked for me,” she whispered in your neck, making you shiver. “I had to be dragged away. I was so worried when the first attack hit and I couldn’t find you anywhere, I watched and waited for you to come out - and when you finally did...” she hugged you tighter, before stepping away and staring into your eyes. “I’m sorry I used The Voice on you, I shouldn’t have done that. I will never do that again. Not to you.” she whispered the last part as she cupped your cheek with her hand. 

“Thank you,” You whispered, moved by her heartfelt apology and by the fact that she had been so worried about your safety.

She smiled before becoming more serious. “Y/n,” she started, and you looked at her prompting her to continue. “I-” A voice cut her off and you put some distance between you.

“Your palanquin is ready, Reverend Mother.” said a voice at the foot of the rocks, and she thanked the man. 

“In the South,” she said with a sigh. “Everything will come to a head in the South; there, we will talk,” she said as she started her descent to the palanquin. 

—------------------------------------

Except you didn’t talk. Things had been too busy for you to have a moment alone, long enough to put your cards on the table. 

She had become simultaneously more secretive and more caring. And then, Paul had died, and she had remained oddly quiet. 

This was the woman who worried about him daily, while he was fighting with the Fedaykin, yet she stared emotionlessly at the pale face of her firstborn, while others all around wept. Your eyes widened in understanding when Chani came storming in, how not to believe when you are faced with the hard cold facts? Paul was the Kwisatz Haderach, the Lisan al Gaib, the Mahdi. And Jessica was not just a mere Reverend Mother. 

You were in a trance as you followed Chani into a room that had been assigned to her. You watched as she walked around the room, her anger loud and clear. 

“What are you doing?” you asked finally, pushing your thoughts aside to focus on her distress. 

“I’m leaving.” She said as she pushed her clothes into her bag. “I will not watch as we cheer and support our new oppressor. Even if it’s Paul, the man I love.” she said angrily and she harshly wiped a tear from her cheek. 

“I think that’s the problem,” you said softly. 

“What?” she asked as she continued packing and you made yourself comfortable on the bed. 

“The problem is, you love Paul,” you said louder as she looked at you. “You love Paul - that boy who has lost everything and doesn’t know who he is; you love Usul - the man you were trying to create, the one who was escaping his destiny. But are you willing to love the Mahdi, the Lisan al Gaib, and the Kwisatz Haderach?” you continued. “Are you willing to love and accept the person he has to become and the things that he has to do? Stand by his side?” Although you were speaking about her situation, the words echoed with you. 

The weight of the responsibilities which lay on Jessica’s shoulders had only now become clear, and you found yourself thinking about your role in her life, about your feelings.

“What are you doing here?” you looked up at the cold words uttered by Chani and saw the object of your thoughts standing in the doorway. She was dressed down in a simple robe, with no veil obstructing her face, letting you see the tattoos which only served to enhance her beauty. She was beautiful. She was Jessica, not the Reverend Mother with plans within plans - just Jessica. Your heart skipped a beat. 

Her eyes swept across the room, taking in the clothes thrown about and the bag nearly packed to the brim, before meeting your eyes for just a second and settling on Chani. “I came to thank you and wish you good luck in your ventures,” she said softly.

“I don’t need anything from you,” said Chani as she grabbed the rest of her clothes, before making her to the door. I got up to follow her and watched as she stopped next to Jessica. “I hope destroying your son was worth it,” she said angrily, before leaving. You tried to follow her out, but were stopped by a hand on your wrist, forcing you to look at the tattooed woman. 

“Can we talk?” she asked in that same soft tone. You looked at Chani quickly retreating before nodding. You would catch up. 

“What is it?” You asked in an even tone as you sat back down on the bed, effectively putting distance between you. 

“Are you thinking of leaving with Chani?” she asked, not wasting any time. You stared at her. You were considering it, yes. But you also didn’t want to leave her. She must have sensed your indecisiveness. “I’m sorry if you were put off by all that I had to do, and what I will have to do in the future to ensure that the prophecy is completed. I wish I could say this isn’t me, but I’ve been trained for this my whole life, and this is what I’ve become.” she took a deep breath, “There’s been a lot of confusion in my head lately, but one thing I know for sure is that I love you.” she whispered and your heart skipped a beat. “I wasn’t prepared to love you, or anyone for that matter, but I fell for you and only realized when it was too late.” she paused as if to collect her thoughts. “I’m not here to beg you to stay or maybe I am, I’d very much prefer if you did; if only to keep my heart whole. Whatever the case, I had to say it: I love you. Not like I loved my Duke; it’s different but just as strong, if not more. There isn’t any obligation linked to my love for you, yet here I am, and here I shall remain, with my heart in my hands for you to claim - should you want it or not, it’s yours.” she finishes quietly and you stayed quiet as you took the time to process what she just said.

“You are Jessica, loving, caring, funny, sweet, gentle and sensitive. You are a Bene Gesserit, a Reverent Mother, you are the mother of the Kwisatz Haderach: you are driven, controlling, unrelenting, and secretive.” With each word, you took a step until you were right in front of her. “You are all that, and I love you. I will not always agree with what you have to do, or understand, but I will still love you and stand by your side. So here I am, and here I shall remain.” You said, echoing her words. “I will take your heart and cherish it - if you’re willing to take mine and do the same,” You said softly as you felt tears run down your face. 

She looked at you so softly, and traced your cheek with her hand, just as gently, before pulling you impossibly close and whispering: “Your heart will be safe with me” before pressing her lips to yours in a searing kiss. 

The road ahead was patchy, but you would walk it forever if it meant you could stay by her side.

#madamevirgowrites #dune #dune part two #lady jessica #lady jessica x reader #rebecca ferguson x reader #rebecca ferguson

[0nlythrowharrybeaux]

A Twist of Fate: No Hard Feelings**^

Thank you everyone for your patience. Here is Part 2 to this star-crossed lovers story. This part really focuses on the break down of the relationships so it can be angsty. Part 3 will be the last one in this short series. READ PART ONE

Series Masterlist

Warnings: sexism, unprotected sex, argumentative and rocky relationships, drug and alcohol use, break ups

WC: 16K

…. JANUARY 2024 ….

The holiday season had been interesting for you and Sebastian. You had gone over to his family’s for the festivities and it was interesting to say the least. You felt like you had transitioned into a weird dystopian dimension after that first dinner.

Seb’s mom wanted his first meal back to be his favorite home cooked meal, a green enchilada casserole; he had been talking about it since you’d left LA. So were excited to try it, so when dinner time came and his mom, Renee, started to serve up a plate of food, you followed suit and she gave you a knowing smile. It confused you but you finished up and followed after her to the table. When Seb glanced up at you with a smile your brows furrowed in confusion; you weren’t sure why Seb was just sitting at the table if he was so excited about this meal? But soon enough you were in front of your seat and set your plate down and then sat. You glanced up when you realized it had grown uncomfortably quiet and everyone was looking at you. When your eyes met Renee’s, she was frozen with the plate she had served her husband laid on the place mat before him. It was then that you noticed that this was not a self-serve situation, you were the only woman at the table and the ladies were serving their husbands before they could sit to eat.

You were mortified. You hadn’t grown up like that, your parents were very lax with gender expectations and roles, your mom wasn’t in charge of cooking and cleaning up after your dad. They were both working so much that they both did everything to keep the household running. Besides, you had never served Sebastian his food. You had cooked for him plenty of times and sure he never cleaned up after himself (unless asked), but he had always fixed his own plates so you had no idea why he would expect it now. It was even more awkward when his sister came in right behind you just moments later and placed a plate of food before him.

“Thanks, Amy.” He smiled and she nodded and looked at you briefly, you swore there was judgement in her eyes, and then everything picked back up again.

After, that it was just awkward and tense. Seb’s mom stepped up the babying for the rest of the trip. You were shocked the amount of work this woman did for her husband and Seb. You started doing the same to blend in, but it had been too late. Christmas Day at lunch, you were heading to the kitchen to offer your help with anything when you overheard his sisters and mother talking to maybe their aunts or other cousins saying how they had all been telling Seb how selfish you were and that you couldn’t take care of him how he needed. It was impressive that just from that one incident they had already discarded you and started shit talking you to Sebastian and others. You were glad when you finally got to leave and get back to LA, but it had been days now and you were still a bit in your head.

“Hey, babe.” Seb hummed as he came into your bedroom.

“Hi.” You offered a smile before glancing back down to your sudoku book. You felt the bed dip and glanced up to see him climbing onto the bed, heading over to your side.

“How was your day?” He asked.

“It was fine. Yours?” You asked as you put down a ‘9’ in it’s designed box.

“Finished another song today, think this will be the single. It has good energy.”

“That’s good.” You hummed as you glanced up at him and when he saw he had your undivided attention he got going. Sebastian started talking about all the things they’d done and how he got inspiration for new lyrics… He’d been talking at you for an hour already, it was nearly midnight and you were tired. Then, in the middle of his story you had the urge to yawn and you did. “Oh sorry, am I boring you?” He asked with irritation and you frowned.

“No, I just yawned. S’late. I was up at 5:30am for that stupid yoga class.” You explained to him and he frowned.

“You’re being weird.” He said.

“What?”

“Ever since we got back you’ve been off.” he said and you sighed. You supposed you should just get your concerns off your chest now.

“OK, so I ummm…I overheard your mom and sisters talking shit about me on Christmas.” You said and he frowned, “And I know they were talking about me to other people and to you.” You said.

“And?” He asked, “I mean, what did you expect after that first night?” He asked you.

“What’d you say when they talked to you about me after that?”

“Nothing…just heard ‘em out. It’s better to not argue with them about their opinions.”

“And is that…is that how you expect me to be?”

“Well, I get that’s not how you grew up. Trust me, meeting your family was a culture shock for me too. But we'll get there. With a little training.” He joked, but it was ill timed, “They know there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me when we’re on more serious turf.” He assured you.

“Ummm…I don’t exactly know what you mean by that.” You said as you straightened up a bit and raised your glasses up to your head. You set your book down as well to really just ensure all of your senses were in tune as you had this conversation.

“I mean that once I move in here we’ll get you to a stage where you’ll feel more comfortable assuming the more traditional feminine role in the house.” He said and you were shocked to hear him say this.

“Traditional feminine- OK, I hope this is not what I’m thinking…”

“And what’s that?”

“You want me to wait on you like that? Like your mom and sisters?” 

“It’s called acts of service.” He countered.

“Babe, i-if I just sat here all day and did nothing outside of the house, then sure! I’d do work here. Your laundry and iron, clean up after you, and fucking spoon feed you if I wanted to. But you also forget one big thing, Seb. This is my house. My name alone is on the mortgage and every other expense. You should be cleaning up after yourself in my house, especially if you invite yourself over for days at a time!” You raised your voice in frustration. 

He looked so offended by what you’d said but this was something that had been frustrating you for quite a while now. Of course you wanted him over, but he just took over your space. He’d stay for days and disrupt everything, like sleep in later than you and not do the bed. Eat and pile up dishes in the sink, he’d leave his dirty laundry and towels on the ground, and he left cups everywhere! But what was most annoying was that he’d leave everything to you. And when you’d call him out on it he’d get it together for a couple days and then go back to his old ways. At first you thought it was just laziness but after spending 10 days with his family you saw that it wasn’t just laziness. Seb had an expectation that you’d soon be doting after him at all times and keeping a nice home for his comfort. He knew that if he’d left a mess you’d eventually grow tired of it and clean it up for him, which was true. But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t gripe about it, but he expected that to diminish and soon become extinct the longer you were together. That was concerning to you and you suddenly found yourself seeing him in a completely different light.

“Well, sorry for taking up your space.” He muttered bitterly as he rolled off the bed and made his way out of your bedroom. 

You didn’t stop him from going, you heard the front door lock and that was that. You hadn’t seen this type of attitude from him before, he had never shared those expectations with you before so you were quite shocked to hear him say that and you still hadn’t quite processed everything he’d said. You immediately called Caitlyn and told her all about your trip and now this.

“…Oh my god, so he’s a chauvinist!” Caitlyn gasped and you hummed.

“I just can’t believe this…I mean if this is really what he expects of me then I can’t be in  this relationship. Of course I believe in doing things, acts of service for your partner, but what he wants is a maid, mother, and lover wrapped up in one! No…just no.” you sighed.

“I agree. I mean, it’s good it’s only been a bit, yeah?”

“I guess so…” you sighed, “I just can’t believe this.” You muttered, your brain felt like it was about to overheat.

“I mean, he’s from a red state, friend. What did you expect?” Caitlyn said joking and then you both sputtered on a laugh. “So…what’re you thinking then?”

“I’m thinking that…” You sighed, “I saw how his mom was with his dad…I couldn’t live like that.” You explained. “I want to feel like I have a partner, not a boss at home. I can’t be with someone like that. I can’t.”

“Yeah.” Caitlyn said in understanding, “I mean, if that’s truly how he is then it’s for the best to just let this go.”

“Yeah, it wouldn’t end well.” You agreed “I think we both need to cool off a bit and then talk about it.” You said with a sigh and she agreed with you. 

You were in a shit mood now and had wandered into the kitchen to grab yourself a bottle of wine and some of those Trader Joes takis. You were soon back in bed and watching a movie as you got drunk and ate your chips. You had a moment of weakness…and against your better judgement you now went on instagram and searched up Harry. You just wanted to see him going about his day, you missed him and knew he’d be so supportive right now, even seeing his smile would be comforting enough. But what you saw coming up had your heart stirring with envy instead of a fuzzy and warm feeling. 

For the first time you felt entirely un-special to him. Just four years prior you’d been at the same fucking Anguillian resort frolicking about on the beaches, lazing around in cabanas, getting day drunk on fruity cocktails, and making love to your hearts content. But there he was again but with another person this time. Well, not just any person, his girlfriend, and it was making your blood boil. Was nothing sacred to this man? Did he have to recycle every single thing to lure another person in? 

And then you clicked on a post and decided to just see it all and you sighed as you looked through the images of him, so gorgeously tan and buff swimming in the ocean and the final image was of her getting her pictures taken on the sand while he enjoyed the warmth of the Caribbean Sea.

“She’s not even getting in the water with you?!” You nearly shouted at your phone, “What a fucking waste of a vacation!” You grumbled. “I would get in the water with you.” You mumbled drunkenly, “No, no…I did! We went there and I did get in the water with you, no one could get us out!” You said as your tears started to streak down your face, “And we did take pictures too, a lot of them. But we went to have fun, not just to take pictures at sunset like influencers who’d never been to a beach before…” you said bitterly and then frowned.

“OK, but she’s so pretty of course she’s having her fucking picture taken instead of getting in the water with you.” You sighed in defeat. “Also it’s her fucking vacation too, so she can do what she wants with her time…” you said to yourself, rationalizing her choices and deciding not to take out your frustration with Seb on her. “I’m not being a girl’s girl right now.” You scolded yourself for your harsh judgements. 

You didn’t even know each other so you had no idea how she was or what her intentions could be at all. But if Harry was with her then she had to be nice and sweet, something that you just weren’t any more. You weren’t being nice when you kissed Harry despite you both being in relationships. You weren’t nice or sweet when you blew up on Sebastian earlier and felt and thought bad things about his family. Instead you were full of spite and sadness. You felt stuck in a loop of negativity that would never end. You were lost, but you didn’t want to be. You wanted to be like you were when you were with Harry. Happy, confident, full of hope…you wanted that back. You were crying so hard and were so drunk after having half a bottle of wine that you just tuckered yourself out.

********

“Tempt fate with me, love. Just one more time.” You heard Harry’s voice purring lowly. You were covered in goosebumps as you nodded, noses nudging lightly.

“OK.” You agreed easily.

“Yeah?” He asked you, grinning wide.

“Yeah.” You agreed happily. 

And then your lips met eagerly with some lingering hesitation. But after your eyes met it completely disappeared and your lips were joining again. And then you were on his lap and his hands were fighting not to grab you in places he shouldn’t, but his resolve melted away quickly and was guiding you over his lap, letting you feel his evident need for you. 

Suddenly you glanced down at him and he was naked except his briefs and you were too, just your bra and panties, both of you impatient and fighting to not take it to the next level. You felt harry’s fingers gliding up your back, right up to the clasp of your bra but not daring to remove it, instead opting to just lose himself in your kisses.

“Just…mmm, wanna touch you, baby.” He whined into your lips.

“Then touch me.” You whispered back.

“Can I? Can I really?” He hummed and you nodded. He was quick to unclasp your bra and bring his hands forward to cup your breasts. When his kisses trailed down to your chest, you leaned back and let him lick at your nipple teasingly before just sucking your perked up little bud between his lips. You were getting so wet for him, grinding down harder and with more intent.

“Please…I need you. I’ve missed you.” You whimpered and he grinned up at you.

“I’ve missed you too. So fucking much.” He said quietly, “What if he comes home and-”

“Then we should be quick.” You panted and he nodded. Magically, his briefs were gone and he was guiding his hard, thick length to your entrance, holding it up so that you could sit over him and get him inside of you, “Can I?”

“Please. Yes, go.” He rushed out and you both moaned in ecstasy and relief at being connected this way once again. 

You rode him slowly, getting used to feeling him deep in your guts like this from how big he was. He was panting and kissing at your neck, his fingers gripping your ass tight as he helped you move over him in ways that were beneficial to the both of you. You picked up your pace then, needing to hurry things along and he groaned against your throat.

“Fuck Y/N, you’re so fucking good.” He mumbled, “Missed you…missed your body, s’my favorite body, baby.” He muttered as he sloppily kissed your neck, “Gonna make me come. But I want t’come inside, can I?”

“Har, I-I don’t know…” you winced as he held you down, his cock impaling deep inside of you. “What about your-”

“Forget everyone else.” He interrupted, “We’re here now, s’just us. It’s us.” He appealed as he started to thrust up.“Don’t tell me you don’t want it like that.” He said, “I know you, love. Know you better than you know yourself.” He mumbled and you choked on a moan as he started to rub your clit.

“Yes, yes please come inside me.” You begged, finally giving in to what it is you wanted.

“Yeah, you want it inside you, my sexy little slut?” He questioned and you moaned and confirmed.

“Yeah, of course you do. You’re a filthy fucking home wrecker, you know that?” He muttered and when you glanced down it wasn’t Harry anymore, it was Sebastian. “Gonna throw me away like that and go after him, aren’t you?” He asked and suddenly you felt stuck in a bad way.

“Please just…” your pleasure was fading fast. He wasn’t fucking you. He was actually fully dressed, just holding you still in his lap and you were stuck there. Still fully naked though, to signify your shame over lusting after Harry. 

“You’ve fucked it up with me and now you’re gonna go fuck up his life too. You selfish, greedy bitch.” He seethed with spite.

************

And that’s when you woke up and immediately started crying again. Already, your head was pounding with inhumane levels of pain from the wine you’d drank the night before. But also the shame you felt for your thoughts the night before…it was monumental and sitting on your chest heavily. You felt like you needed to apologize to them for it, that’s how guilty you felt. 

Obviously, you missed Harry. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since you’d seen each other late last year. You hadn’t even spoken since! He hadn’t made any moves to rekindle the friendship between you as much as you had insisted that that’s what it was all about. Maybe he saw you and just got lost reminiscing the old days, but when he got back home to his girlfriend and his friends he realized that everything was exactly as it should’ve been. Maybe he needed to be with you to verify whether he was going down the right path now and clearly, he was. But you were just lost…so terribly lost.

************

It was a few days later when Sebastian finally came around to talk about your relationship and he was the one to hit you with the break up speech right off the bat. He made it seem like it was all your fault for not being more accommodating to his needs as a man. You had no idea what he meant by that, but you were in no condition or place to argue with him because you had wronged him. He did go off a bit about how he should’ve listened to his sisters and dumped you the moment you came back from their house. He was angry at you for not wanting to change or make compromises for him even though it was your job as the woman to look after him and your home and that’s when you lost your shit.

“THIS ISN’T YOUR HOME, SEBASTIAN!” You shouted with anger boiling over and he stopped talking, “It’s my fucking house! My house. I bought it with my money! I didn’t buy this house because I was planning a future in it with you! I just wanted a place of my own! That’s it! We weren’t even together when I got the house! What makes you feel like you have any sort of ownership over it or me?! You come here to do laundry and charge and wash your car, using my resources without ever even pitching in. You eat my food and use my AC in the summer-”

“Well you know I don’t have the same amenities at my apartment and-”

“Then tell your mom and dad to get you a better one!” You shouted and he frowned, “You’re spoiled and inconsiderate and completely helpless, Sebastian. I can’t be with a person who can’t hold their own or even bother to google what the symbols mean on the tags of your fucking clothes so that you don’t shrink them in the dryer!”

“Well you already know so I was calling you so that you could tell me-”

“I was busy with my fucking label rep! I couldn’t pick up the phone. But the fucking point is that, like you, at some point I didn’t know! I didn’t know a lot of things! So I had to grow the fuck up and figure them out for myself! And that’s the problem with you, you don’t try to figure things out, you don’t face any problems or obstacles, you just back yourself into a corner, telling yourself that you don’t know! You make everyone else jump in and sort things out the second an inconvenience arises for you.” He was pouting now. 

“Is that really how you see me? A spoiled man-child who can’t do things for themselves?”

“Yes.” You said and he chuckled.

“Who changed your tire when you got a flat? Who mows your fucking lawn when the landscapers can’t make it-”

“I can change a fucking tire, Seb! And I can mow a lawn! It’s not fucking rocket science! You insisted on doing those things for me because you said I “wouldn’t do them right”, don’t forget that detail.” You said and he shook his head.

“Well, no one ever wants to be with a know it all so…fuck you.” He said before leaving your house with a loud slam of the front door.

All you could feel was relief. It was like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders and you just wanted to run. So you did, you called up Caitlyn and you drove down to the beach and just ran and ran along the shore until you were shivering from the cold and could hardly feel your nose and lips. You were panting, struggling to take in a nice deep breath as you guys dropped down into the sand. Caitlyn being in much better shape than you wasn’t nearly as winded.

“How much did we run? Like two miles?” You asked as you swallowed thickly and she laughed.

“Try a 3/4’s of a mile…maybe a full one.” She said and you groaned and just let yourself fall back into the sand and stared up at the sky, it was slowly growing darker. You could feel your legs tingling a bit from the constant running, and as you laid there, letting all of your feelings from the past few weeks process you stopped feeling cold. “Want some water?”

“You brought water?”

“Yeah, my camelback.” She said and took it off and handed it to you. You thanked her and sucked some out of the straw before handing it back. “You good?”

“I don’t know…” you said monotonously, “No, actually.”

“Mmmm, I have a joint?” She said and you chuckled.

“Light her up.” You mumbled and she smiled and did just that. 

Soon she was laying back as well as she handed you the joint while she blew out the hit she’d taken. You took your hit as well, holding just a little bit because you were so bad at smoking and it was also bad for you as a singer. You still choked on it and shot up, snatching the water from Caitlyn as she giggled at you.

“God…” you groaned before laying back down, “You know, I saw pictures of Harry on vacation with Taylor the other day…internet stalking is the fucking worst, you know that? Why would you want to do that to yourself?” You asked Caitlyn.

“Mmmm, so nothing catches you by surprise. Or at least that’s what I like about it. I mean, if it’s just speculation at least you have that possible scenario in your head and you can process it before it’s just shoved in your face randomly, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess…I was judging her for not swimming in the ocean with Harry.” You said and then started laughing, “I don’t know why that particular thing pissed me off so much!” You laughed and Caitlyn did too, “Like what’s so fucking special about swimming that just triggered me…so ridiculous.” You mumbled.

“Just a bit…” she said.

“I think I’m starting to realize that…nothing about us was really special. Like we did all the things they do now just in secret…it’s like…I’m watching my relationship with him being reenacted.” You said with welled up eyes, but you didn’t cry this time. “It’s…it’s so weird.” You hummed and then you were silent for a few minutes, passing the joint back and forth.

“Wanna hear a rumor I heard?” Caitlyn said and you turned to her in interest, “I heard from Mer that-”

“Mer Winston? You’re still friends?”

“Oh yeah, we talk all the time.” Caitlyn confirmed, “But she said that they got in a huge fight before Christmas, he came over and had this whole venting session with them over lunch one day. And she said that H had a lot of making up to do if he wanted to make it work with her.”

“I hope that wasn’t my fault.” You mumbled.

“Maybe he decided to tell her about meeting up with you.”

“Maybe…” you sighed, “We haven’t talked at all or anything like that. It was part of the deal. If things were meant to happen then they would.” You said and Caitlyn hummed. 

“Maybe it’s like an apology vacation…”

“Who knows, but like…they’re there now so whatever…”

“Harry’s a bit annoying though, isn’t he? Like clingy if I recall? Like lanky ass wrapped around you all the fucking time, no?” Caitlyn asked and you chuckled and nodded.

“Yeah, sounds about right…”

“Then why wasn’t he clinging to her? I saw the pictures too, by the way…” she added and you chuckled.

“Maybe he was? But he gets nervous when he knows people are watching.” You explained. “And besides, you should be the voice of reason here, not the conspiracy theorist!” You reprimanded and she chuckled as she handed you the last bit of the joint and you declined.

“Sorry, it’s the weed.” She said and you sighed.

“Well I’m not feeling shit.” You said, still completely sober.

“You’re not doing it right, s’why.” She laughed and you huffed.

“Damaging my lungs for nothing…” you muttered.

“I assure you with how shallow your inhales are that shit didn’t reach your lungs.” She cackled and she couldn’t stop from there. 

You walked back to where you parked with your arms linked together as you talked about other things. You were fine now, you just needed to get all the emotions out of your system. And well, just because your relationship had ended it didn’t mean that Harry was meant for you. Or you for him. All this meant was that Sebastian wasn’t right for you and you weren’t right for him. And as you walked along the shore you decided that you weren’t going to seek Harry out, you were going to forget about the little deal you made yourselves, that was just wishful thinking and you couldn’t set yourself up for disappointment like that. He was just so far away, it wasn’t cute, it wasn’t realistic, it was just sadistic and psychologically damaging. If you love someone you let them go. 

“I know this is so gross but I have to use the bathrooms here before they close.” Caitlyn said and you chuckled and nodded and she took off for the bathrooms. You just wandered back to the concrete wall that separated the pavement from the sand. The sun was just about to disappear and it felt so perfectly poetic. It was cathartic, thinking of him while the sun set second by second. And when the last little sliver started to fade you smiled and exhaled shakily before whispering.

“Bye, Harry.” 

*************

The news of your breakup with Sebastian had come swiftly to the public as the very next day Seb released a statement via an Instagram post asking for “privacy in this difficult time”. It was interesting to you because he was the one who did the dumping. But then the questions started pouring in from your manager and publicists and you confirmed that you’d broken up and explained why and they decided that they would not give him the satisfaction or even an acknowledgement with a confirmation to the media.

You did get papped outside of your preferred grocery store the week after he announced the break up and you believed it was to do with the fact that you nor your team had done a thing to acknowledge his announcement. You had a strict plan for grocery shopping as to prevent being papped or seen by too many people and the one person who knew that apart from Caitlyn was him. So it was about 9 at night and the paps were bombarding you with questions about this break up as you unloaded your groceries into the car and all you said was “Yep, Seb broke up with me.” with a bright smile. You wanted to give “Nicole Kidman divorced from psycho cult follower, Tom Cruise” vibes. You felt like you’d escaped a super shitty future. You were sure he could find someone who would happily be all the things he wanted them to be for him, but that’s certainly not what you wanted from a relationship. You did wish him well, but that was all there was to it.

Unfortunately for Sebastian, his plot with the paps backfired a bit. People were pointing out that you seemed happy and relieved about the breakup as you just carried on with life. And then that turned into speculations that he wrote that post on instagram for some compassion from the public since he had broken up with you. And yeah, that was all true, but you weren’t going to fuel the fire. The public could be your bestest friend of your greatest foe, so it was better not to try and involve the masses when possible. That’s something you had learned from Harry, regardless of whether things were good or bad, the public always had something to say and the best thing to do was not to give them any ammunition.  

*************

Harry’s POV:

Harry had heard about your break up through the grapevine and his first instinct was to check up on you. It’d been a few days and he was still teetering on the edge of whether he should or not, he’d have to go through some lengths to do so, but he wanted to. Admittedly, he was already on thin ice…

When he got back from LA he was just really in his head about everything and when Tay asked what was up he was honest with her. Except the kiss, he didn’t tell her about the kiss. But he shared with her that he asked to see you. He told her that he chose to stay longer in hopes to see you again. He was honest about why he didn’t want to tell her that he wanted to hang out with you. He was honest about how much shit it stirred up in him to have run into you. Obviously, she was pissed at him, even said it was probably over, he had never seen her angry before but it came at him strong and she was gone for a few days. That’s when he took advantage to talk about all this to someone else, so he made his way over for lunch with Ben and Meredith and told them all of it.

Once it was off his chest he reached out to fix things with his girlfriend. And while she agreed to work through this with him there had been a lot of conditions given until he regained the trust that he had broken. She wanted him to remove your number from his phone because as she’d put it, he had no business trying to talk to you while you were in a relationship and while he was in a relationship. He genuinely couldn’t argue with that logic so he did right there in her face so that she could see for herself. She also wanted to understand what it was about you that made him suddenly lose all his self control. And against his better judgment he told her about you and he saw for himself how the more he spoke, the bigger the hole he dug for himself. 

The holidays were a little weird, there was still some tension and it was good that she got to be around his family to distract a bit from all the hurt and anger that was still lingering beneath the surface. So when the new year came by he suggested they get out of town, have a nice little change of pace to start out their year together. And now here they were, he had just seen another post about you and Sebastian being over and he just needed to check.

“Mate, d-do you think you can reach out to Jen and get Y/N’s number?” Harry asked Tom quietly.

“Jen?”

“Yeah, Jen Lockley, her manager.” He said and Tommy sighed.

“I know that I work for you, but this is stupid, H. Is this really something you want to be doing? Especially with the situation you’re in right now.” He admonished.

“Look, her boyfriend just broke up with her, I just want to make sure she’s OK.” He explained and Tommy sighed and pulled out his phone and was typing something up before handing his phone over. It was a video of you getting papped, smiling bright as you confirmed the break up.

“She’s fine.” He assured.

“OK.” He sighed.

“Why is she so happy about it?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t know…maybe if I talked to her I’d know.”

“So this has nothing to do with you?” He asked.

“No! I just came and asked you for her number! If that’s not an act of desperation, I don’t know what is…”

“So what are you trying to do here? Are you not as happy as you let on or what?”

“I am, I just…I miss her. She was my best friend, you know? I was rocked when I saw her. I didn’t expect to feel as much as I did. I couldn’t help that, running into her was out my control.” He explained

“Yeah, I get that. But look, you’ve got someone really great right in front of you.”

“I know that…s’just, different. She’s a different person.” Harry said, “Which is great, it’s just…different.” He said again.

“Was that relationship the one that like…changed everything?” He asked and Harry nodded. Tommy had been working with Jeffrey for a while, but he and Harry only started getting close after Jeffrey and Glenne got married, he wasn’t with you by then anymore. So he hadn’t really seen your relationship like everyone else had.

“Yeah. I wanted to marry her. Have a baby with her, everything. We met when I was still in the band, she’s was there for the whole transition out of it, she helped me with my songs for my first album…we grew up together, you know? Challenged each other, encouraged each other.”

“And you ended it because?”

“We were both way too busy, we hardly had time to see each other during the last 2 years we were togther. We were doing extreme things just to have a weekend together, you know? It was draining and exhausting for the both of us so ummm…we just decided to end it.”

“Well, regardless of how you feel now, it’s over H. I just don’t want you to…to look past what you have now just because you’re clinging to the past.”

“Well what if she’s in my future?” He asked and Tommy sighed.

“If that’s really how you feel then what are you doing here with someone else? What’s the point? Just killing time until you can have the person you want?”

“It’s not like I don’t love Tay, I just…also love Y/N. I think I’ll always love her and I’ll always wonder about her. She’s the one that…got away, so it’s always going to be like this.”

“Does your girlfriend know that?”

“I think she’s starting to figure it out…” Harry sighed.

“Well if that’s how it is you still need to focus on the relationship you’re in now. You have nothing going on with Y/N, not even a friendship, so you need to be present. Turn a new page, like you promised.”

“I will. I will.” He repeated, almost as if trying to convince himself more than Tommy. 

Tommy could understand why it was hard for Harry to just move on when he felt like the person that was his person was slowly pulling further and further from his reach. He believed that you could be torn between two people, love more than one person at a time, but not everyone accepted that kind of love or relationship. He didn’t think Harry would start a full blown affair with you, but for some it was worse in a way, knowing that their partner felt love for them and someone else. It couldn’t be easy for Taylor to come to terms with that; especially if she wasn’t aware that Harry even had the ability to love this way. Or that there was someone who had the ability to affect him that much that wasn’t her.

“I know this is fucking unfair of me but I really just have no control over these feelings, mate. I saw her again and it hit me like a fucking train that I love her, you know? It’s weird for me too to suddenly have all these different feelings for someone else when I thought I had moved on; it was unexpected. I even…love her in a different way than I do Taylor.” Harry explained with a furrowed brow.

“Well don’t say that to her. Ever.” Tommy advised.

“Well, I just think she’s understanding this all wrong…like she thinks that seeing Y/N raised up some conflict or doubts in me about our relationship. That I’m “torn” between options and it’s not that at all. I enjoy our relationship and I love being with her, so much, but it’s not what Y/N and I had. So I’m not looking for that in Tay nor am I comparing her to Y/N at all. Like I love Taylor for Taylor and what she does for me and how we function together. But I also love Y/N for all of what we had and all that we could possibly be. It’s completely separate…she’s still on this “emotional cheating” argument, which I get what she means. But it’s not like I’m looking for something she’s lacking, you know? I’m not even looking for anything else with anyone else. It’s just feelings.”

“Love is a big feeling, H.” Tommy said. “It’s getting messy.”

“I know and like…she just wants me to let it go and move on which is impossible. I can’t just stop loving Y/N on command, you know? If it’s going to happen it’s going to take a lot of time. I mean, I thought I was past all this until we were face to face. Who’s to say that won’t happen again 10 years from now or something?”

“Yeah, I see your dilemma.” Tommy hummed. “I mean, the fact that you deleted her number should be a good start for Tay. Show her that you’re willing to just focus on you two.”

“Yeah…”

“I mean, you get why you guys can’t even be friends, right?”

“Of course, I do. It just…it sucks.” He sighed.

************

Harry didn’t think Taylor would be keeping an eye out for you after he deleted your number, but she was. And it was late and he was tired and a little sunburnt and he just wanted to plop into bed after his cold shower, but the concerned look on her face made him realize that something was about to go down that would prevent him from resting as he hoped.

“What’s the matter, love?” He asked right away instead of waiting for her to get around to stating the problem.

“She broke up with him.” She said to him with a slightly nervous tone.

“Who broke up with who?” He asked, playing dumb.

“Y/N, with Sebastian. My friend just send this to me.” She said turning her phone to him as he came over to the bed. It was a tabloid cover with the news.

“Well good for her, he was kind of a prick.” Harry said as he climbed in.

“So you’re happy about this?”

“If she’s happy about it then yeah. And again, I’m not his biggest fan, so why wouldn’t I be?” He questioned.

“I’m sure she’s doing it for you.” She said with a slightly accusatory tone, “Does that make you happy too?” She asked him, challenging him. Harry sighed and rolled his eyes.

“She’s not doing it for me. When we talked she was telling me that they were having some issues that she was having a hard time getting past. Seems like it was coming. Maybe they both reached their breaking points.” He reasoned. But the thought did cross his mind, was she sending him a sign?

“Harry, I hate feeling this way…” she said, “This isn’t me.” She shook her head, “You know this isn’t me. But I feel…like we’re up in the air.” She repeated and he sighed.

“I’m sorry.” All he could really do was apologize. “You have no reason to feel that way though, babe. I’m not looking for anything with Y/N, love. When I said I still have feelings for her, it’s just that, they’re feelings. But we’re not gonna talk, I’m never gonna see her again-”

“You don’t know that, Harry.” She interrupted.

“Well, not on purpose, I won’t, not if you don’t want me to.” He said and she sighed.

“My whole point is that I shouldn’t have to put restrictions on you, like a child! I should be able to trust that you won’t hurt me.”

“Then trust me. I’m not going to do anything with this.” He assured and she pouted.

“What if you never stop loving her?” She asked him and he sighed.

“Babe, I don’t know…”

“Well what then? I just have to live in her shadow for however long we’re together? What if that’s my whole life?” She asked with a frown and he was getting a bit frustrated that people weren’t understanding that this wasn’t a competition for him.

“Babe, it’s not like that…you’re not in her shadow because you’re never going to be her!” He groaned and she frowned, “Let me finish.You’re not Y/N and Y/N’s not ever going to be you. It’s not a competition…I don’t want you to give me what I had with her. I like what we have now. I’m not comparing, I’m not trying to get pieces of that relationship back through you. They’re two mutually exclusive things! If I continue to be here for you how you need, and I’m faithful, and supportive, and am fulfilling all of those duties we talked about… how do my feelings for her impact us?” He asked.

“See, to me that feels like a cop out.” She said and Harry sighed.

“How?! How on earth?”

“Because you can continue loving her for the rest of your life if you want under this mentality you have! What if loving her from afar stops being enough? I don’t want to share you with someone else! That’s not what I signed up for.”

“You’re not sharing me with anyone!” He groaned.

“See that’s what you’re not getting, Harry. I know you feel you’re not and you can even make the distinction, but I can’t do that, H. I don’t function that way. How do I know that one day your mind won’t change and you’ll want to be with her instead of me since you’ve kept this channel open?” She asked.

“My feelings for you can start to change at any given moment for any number of reasons that are completely unrelated to Y/N, so-”

“You’re a dick.” She said and got out of bed and just locked herself in the bathroom. 

He tried to explain what it was he was trying to convey but Tommy was right, this was getting messy. She said she’d only come out when he was out of the bedroom so he made his way to the general area of the large condo style suite they’d rented out at the resort and just laid on the couch. If there was an off-switch to loving you, Harry would’ve made use of it ages ago. It wasn’t easy to love someone who life kept pushing out of your reach. He just loved you 

from afar, he reckons he always would.

…. February 2024 ….

You were at your wits end with Sebastian. It took him about a month of you two being broken up before he started trying to spark things up between the two of you again. You wanted to believe it was because he’s considered his antiquated (in your opinion) expectations of you, but your gut told you it had more to do with the fact that you were what gave him more exposure. You hadn’t really run into him anywhere during awards season or even any parties, though he had been persistent to talk to you. You’d declined and rejected him so many times, yet once again, you got home from the studio to see your assistant had left yet another fresh bouquet of roses on the console table you had by the door. You sighed and grabbed the little card that was tucked in among the greenery.

Thinking of you today, Y/N. I hope we can talk or see each other soon. I’ll be waiting.

- XO, Seb

You sighed as you picked out the little card and crumbled it in your hand. Now you had a dozen red roses you had no use for. It irked you quite a bit, like everything was though as of late. This foulness of your mood was brought on by the visit of a mutual friend a few weeks prior. They were based in London though, so you hadn’t seen each other face to face in at least three year. But when you met up, they talked about your old circle in London, and obviously that led to the mentioning of Harry and how happy he was with Taylor. They said that the pair had been traveling together a lot, and just really immersing themselves in what they had going on. Hearing that solidified your decision to just steer clear of anything that had to do with Harry. Especially if he was really focused on making things work in his current relationship, as he should! But this also reminded you that you really needed to move on and not just say you would, like you often did. You slipped out of your loafers and migrated to the kitchen to figure out your dinner when your phone started ringing and you glanced down to see it was one of the guys from the studio.

“Hey Ricky, what’s up?” You asked with some pep.

“Hey Y/N, it’s going good. We’re almost done with the single. Ummm, I was actually calling about something else though. You know how my younger sister’s in a band?” He asked.

“Yeah…” you said as you opened up your fridge.

“So they’re doing this charity concert to raise money for an emergency student fund for students in financial need at UCSD. She asked me to run the sound system and if I could rope in any friends to volunteer for the main performance last minute? They’ve got a few local bands and singers lined up and them plus a surprise guest is what they hoped. But the surprise guest decided to drop out since they weren’t going to be paid.”

“What an ass.”

“I know, they knew about it too! It’s for charity!” He said, “Obviously, they’re at a loss and don’t want the event to flop. I told my sister she had one favor a year and she called it. So I was wondering if-”

“Oh my god, you don’t even have to ask. It’s for a good cause! When is it?” You asked.

“It’s going to be on March 9th, it’s a Saturday, at the SDSU amphitheater.” He shared and she pulled her phone away to put him on speaker and look at her calendar.

“Ummm, I don’t believe I have anything lined up for that weekend…yeah, no. I’m all clear so I can definitely participate.” You assured.

“Seriously?!” Ricky asked in disbelief, “Like they can’t pay anything though. The school pitched in for some thank you gifts, that’s all.” He said and you chuckled.

“No problem. I would love to help out.”

“You’re a saint! Let me text you her information so that you can reach out to her and get the lowdown on all this.”

“Sounds good.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Seriously, thank you so much! You’re the tenth person I’ve called.” Ricky confessed.

“Ummm?” You exclaimed, face twisted in full offense, “I’m offended that I’m the tenth choice.” You chuckled, “Unless you were like calling in personal favors from like Lana or Rihanna.” You added and he chuckled.

“No…I just know you’ve been going through a bit emotionally lately, so I didn’t want to rope you into anything last minute and burden you with anything else.” He explained.

“Oh, I’m up for anything that involves singing.” You assured him and he chuckled.

“Well thank you, she’s going to be so happy about this. She’s kind of a fan…” Ricky sighed in relief and you chuckled.

“Anytime. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep. Have a good night.”

“I will. And Ricky, don’t stay too late, please.” You said and he chuckled.

“I’ll try…” he mumbled and you both chuckled before hanging up.  

…. MARCH 2024 ….

Time had flown by and you had rehearsed with Alondra, Ricky’s sister, and her band the weekend before the show. You’d actually spent the weekend with them, at Marisol, their drummer’s house. You’d all slept over and they took you around to some of the low-key spots in the area. You really enjoyed spending the weekend with them, Marisol’s parents were so sweet and hospitable. But on Sunday afternoon you moved to an AirBnB that was closer to the campus and would provide you all plenty of space and privacy to rehearse later in the week. Ricky drove up on Tuesday night with Caitlyn and Melissa to stay with you for the rest of the time as well.

On Friday night you were doing your rehearsal/soundcheck at the amphitheater right before the city’s noise curfew. This was because there weren’t as many people on campus around at that hour and a larger area had already been blocked off from public access for the event. So thankfully you guys finished that quite fast and Ricky had all your settings down for the following day.

“You guys sounded so good.” Ricky assured as his arm draped around Alondra’s shoulder as you guys rallied up on the now cleared stage.

“Yeah?” She asked and he nodded with pride.

“OK, so are we getting drinks or what?” Their keyboard player, Pablo interrupted, “I need something to distract me, please.” He mumbled and you frowned, you had no idea what was wrong, but going out to get shit faced before a gig day was a poor idea.

“Well in the interest of ensuring you don’t feel like shit tomorrow, we can go to the house? We have a pool and hot tub, and I know Caitlyn has weed on her, and we can get drinks and order food?” You suggested.

“You’re really just giving away your friend’s weed?” Pablo chuckled.

“I can get her more.” You chuckled, “What do you guys say?” You wanted to ensure that whatever had Pablo so worked up didn’t make him lose control.

“I like it, let’s do it.” Alondra said and with that you were making your way over to the AirBnB. 

After making your purchases and just ordering some pizza’s you guys were all hanging out in the patio enjoying the refreshing breeze of the night. Pablo was definitely a little crossed and looking quite bummed out. You wanted to ask him what was wrong, but didn’t want to seem nosy. So you headed inside to find Alondra, she had gone in to get herself some water.

“Hey, what’s wrong with Pablo?” You asked as you came into the kitchen.

“Oh, he found out that his ex-girlfriend is now dating one of the guys from another band that will be playing tomorrow, he saw her name on their guest list. They haven’t seen each other since the break up which actually was maybe a year ago. It was just a really sad time for him.” She explained quietly.

“Oh…yeah, running into an ex can be weird after so long.” You shared from personal experience.

“Yeah, they’d been together since high school, so I think the relationship had just run its course and she knew it, but he didn’t see it like that. He talked about marrying her and having kids with her all the time and she’s so sweet, but he was just really giving up on everything else to stay with her and she didn’t want that for him, so she ended it before he sacrificed too much, you know?”

“Yeah, I know how that is…” you assured. And suddenly you heard a familiar song play loudly from the outside…

“No hard feelings honey

There’ll be no bad blood

Losing your love has been hard enough

Life can be short, but life can be sweet

No hard feelings honey, the next time we meet”

Your heart shriveled in your chest because this song had been played a lot by you. The single had come out maybe a month or two after you and Harry ended things. You’d cried so much to this song, it still made you feel things, clearly. You were pulled from your thoughts when you heard Pablo and Caitlyn all singing along loudly and you and Alondra rushed outside as Ricky smiled at you guys. Pablo was sandwiched between Caitlyn and Jesse, the bassist, as a few tears streamed down his face as he sang the lyrics to “No Hard Feelings”.

“We need to add this to the set list…please!” He sniffled as he stopped singing along, “I learned how to play it a bit ago. Please….” He begged Alondra with tearful, puppy dog eyes.

“I mean, w-we can, but I actually don’t know this song, I don’t think I can get it down by tomorrow.” She explained. Pablo was not a singer, he hated it, so he glanced to Marisol who also was not all that confident in learning the song right now for a performance the next day.

“Y/N?” He turned to you, “Do you know it?” He asked you.

“She does!” Caitlyn cut in, “Sing it with him!” She pouted at you and you glanced to Pablo who looked so hopeful now and you forced a smile.

“I do. I also know the bass part.” You shared and he smiled.

“I just want her to know that I’m glad she’s happy. It hurts, but I’m so happy for her.” He said and everyone hummed in understanding and then Caitlyn’s eyes glanced to yours as you swallowed thickly. ‘SORRY’ she mouthed to you when she realized what she’d done and you just smiled at her to assure her it was fine. Even if it wasn’t, it had to be fine.

The next morning Pablo was up with you, earlier than everyone else, and with some coffee in your hands you got to figuring out an arrangement. Luckily, Ricky had brought along a guitar, bass, and travel sized amp for the work you’d be doing during the week and so you practiced on that. There was a piano in the house, so Pablo practiced on that for now. You were both so familiar with the song that it was so fast to get an arrangement set and for your guys to get it down. You had agreed on starting out the first verse/chorus with the keyboard like in the lullaby version and then you’d come in with the bass and transition into the regular studio version. You went over it a handful of times before deciding that it was perfect.

And so far, it was going perfect, the concert was sold out and the bands were doing great. People were singing along and having a nice time. You didn’t get nervous so much anymore, but it nearing the end of the show and you were waiting back stage to have Alondra call you out to play alone with Pablo.

“Thank you everyone.” Alondra spoke into the mic, “Before we wrap it up, we have just a couple more songs for you guys.” she said and the crowd cheered, “Thanks, you guys are great. Now, we’re going to bring Y/N out one more time for a special song with Pablo.” and upon mentioning your name the crowd started to cheer louder, “We hope you like this one.” She smiled and moved away from the mic. 

Jesse took off his bass and handed it to you. You got it on as you walked further onto the stage. You smiled as you got it in a comfortable position  and glanced to Pablo who nodded that he was ready to go. You felt your stomach swirling with nerves and nostalgia, but you had to use that to push forward. You let out a long exhale as you gave the bass a couple plucks to test the volume in your earpiece and when that was good you walked up to mic properly.

“Please be gentle with this one.” You said softly and then glanced back to Pablo and gave him one more nod as you inhaled and started to sing.

You faintly heard some gasps and coos when people recognized what you were singing before everyone fell mostly silent and just listened. The entire amphitheater started to light up with flashlights from people’s phones, making the moment feel magical as well as solemn as you sang through the first two verses. When you got to the instrumental you angled yourself towards Pablo to be able to see his cues. You then turned back to the mic as you guys got ready for the final verse, you eased out of playing the bass and went back to just Pablo playing the keyboard, letting his final note resonate as you took a deep breath as you leaned into the mic. And when your eyes shut gently to envision the words Harry’s face appeared and you knew your facade would crumble.

“The threads that kept us together were already wearing thin…” your voice faded into breathy whisper as a huge knot formed in your throat. Pablo noticed and you swallowed thickly and he slowed his tempo to let you get to the next part, “Would we ever have tied the knot? Well how long is a piece of string?” You sang sweetly as your tears started to silently streak down your face. “And for everything that ends, something else must begin…” Your voice cracked as you inhaled shakily to finish the song. The crowd cheered you on, giving you the courage to finish the song, “No hard feelings, honey. And we both will take the win.” You finished softly and you quickly turned away from the mic as a sob escaped you. The audience was so kind and generous with you two as an also crying Pablo came up and hugged you tight.

“You were so good…thank you for doing this for me.” He hummed before he let you go. Your hands squeezed his and you nodded and smiled at him before waving and walking off stage for the final time. You couldn’t even hear Alondra’s final thanks as you hurried down the steps to find a place to be alone and cry it out for just a bit before you had to face everyone again.

**************

You kind of felt like an idiot for agreeing to sing this song with Pablo over the weekend because the performance had gone viral overnight. Then, first thing Monday, the university’s media department posted a full length, HQ video of it. Obviously, the story was that you delivered such an emotional and beautiful performance because your break up with Sebastian was so fresh. A bunch of reporters and blogs had reached out for commentary and you had declined, of course. That didn’t stop Sebastian from reaching out several times trying to reconcile things between you two. It had all been turned into one big, chaotic, and raging dumpster fire.

Noticing the chaos that had ensued from his performance you were invited out to a wine bar with a couple friends just to loosen up. And on your way out you were swarmed by a small group of paparazzi, and as you tried to get through, one of the paps asked about how you were actually coping with the break up because you had seemed happy about it before. Then, another asked if the performance was for Sebastian. Maybe it was because you were a bit drunk, but you decided to give a response because you didn’t want to keep encouraging Seb.

“Look, that song is just special to me, it has been for years. And performing it kind of transported me back to that time of my life where it was my lifeline.” You explained, “There’s a lot of history with this song and a lot of feelings I had been holding in for a while came out during the performance, that’s all.” You explained, “I promise, I’m fine and everything’s good with the break up.” You assured before being tugged away by Ricky to his car as he muttered something about you not owning anyone any explanations.

****************

HARRY’S POV:

Harry was sure that everything had been going well between him and Taylor. He really had focused on her and on them and things had been going great. She had been back to her old self and then at some point over the weekend something shifted because she was a bit annoyed again and it only got worse during the week. Harry figured it was something personal because he was pretty sure that he had done nothing to illicit any type of irritation from her. But he could see she was having a hard time with not taking out any frustration on him so he decided to ask, just in case.

“Babe, is everything alright?” He asked as he strolled into the entertainment room, she’d been in there reading after dinner. When she glanced up he was met with an exasperated and somewhat angry expression and he wished he had left it alone, “Have I done something?” He followed up as he sat at the edge of cushion with her legs on it. “Please tell me if I have, I thought we were doing good.” He said as one of his hands smoothed up her ankle to her knee, this was to placate both him and her. He really needed to know because he felt like he was walking on eggshells the last few days.

“No, H. You’re…good. I’m sorry, I’m just really trying my best not to take my frustration out on you for something that I know isn’t really your issue-”

“OK, well what is it? Maybe I can help.” He offered.

“No, it’s super insignificant and stupid…”

“I think not if it has you in this state, babe.” He countered her logic. “C’mon, let me help you.” He insisted and she shook her head.

“Trust me, Harry, you don’t need to know about this.” She assured. That made him a bit annoyed because whether she meant to or not, she was being weird with him and he wanted it to stop.

“Well I think I do. You’re trying not to take it out on me but you’re still acting strange and  cold and are super irritable anyway so-”

“It’s freaking Y/N, OK!?” She finally said, voice raised and laced with irritation. Harry frowned and now his anger was aimed at you. Had you said something to Taylor? He couldn’t see a world in which you would, but maybe you had. And well whatever it was, it had to have been really personal for her to be reacting like this and being upset over it for days now.

“OK? Did she do or say something to you?” He asked and she sighed.

“No…not directly, but she…she’s doing a bad job at fixing that stunt she pulled over the weekend and-”

“What? What stunt?” He asked. He really had completely blocked out anything about you because he didn’t want to make Taylor feel like he was keeping tabs on you or his options open. So he truly had no idea what you had done or were up to recently.

“She sang at some college charity show and she sang this song…but she did it on purpose because the song’s about you! It’s a break up song about seeing your ex again!” She insisted. Harry’s curiosity was piqued. What song had you sang that she was so sure it was about him? 

“Maybe it was about her recent break up, babe.” He tried to think of anything else that would make her let this go and not worry about it so much.

“Not according to what she told the paparazzi yesterday.” She added and Harry sighed but couldn’t prevent the chuckle that slipped past his mouth.

“Oh my god, love…since when do we care about anything the paps have to say? Hmmm?” He asked and she sighed. 

“There’s video.” She informed. “I’ve seen it…multiple times, much to my misfortune” she shared and upon hearing this Harry felt defeat overcome him. He needed to choose his next words carefully, because it was something that might upset her further, but she needed to hear.

“Look, I know you have every right to be wary of this and even to doubt me, but babe, this has gone too far. Way too far.” Harry stated his concern and she sighed, the same defeated look over her face.

“I know, babe. I know it has.” She admitted.

“I just…I’m trying to understand it, babe.” He sighed with confusion, “All this time I’ve been putting all of my focus on us and improving our relationship, like I told you I would. And  honestly, t’s feeling like you hardly notice or care for it all because all you do is obsess over my ex!” He explained his feelings, evidently quite forlorn.

“The ex you still love, H.” She reminded him of that pertinent detail. Harry nodded in understanding and scoffed out a defeated laugh.

“Tay, I can’t do anything else to prove to you that I love you and am committed to you. I feel like I’m losing my mind trying to get you to just be here again. Please, just be here with me.” He beckoned she blinked rapidly as she drew her eyes up to the ceiling.

“I feel like I’m losing my mind too.” She confessed softly, “I promise I’m trying to move past this, H. I am. But honestly, I’m starting to think that maybe I just…can’t.” she confessed and he nodded silently. “I see the effort, babe. Thank you for it, I appreciate it, I promise you, I do.” She insisted, “I just…kind of wish you had never said anything to me about this…” she confessed. Harry was feeling that way too. He should’ve just made something up about why he was acting strange. 

“I think I’m just going t’go to bed. Sleep on it, hopefully wake up feeling a bit more optimistic about this than today.” She said and he nodded as she got up from he couch.

“I love you, sleep well.” He said. She leaned over him and kissed his forehead and gave him a smile before leaving him alone.

Harry felt super shit now. He had fucked up a catastrophic amount. He truly did regret being honest about the situation with you. He should’ve kept it to himself because now things were just getting weird. Sure, he was a bit annoyed with Taylor’s recent hobby of stalking you, but he couldn’t blame her or label her insane for it, he had done that to her. And for the first time he truly questioned what it was that he had gone and done with you. She didn’t deserve to doubt herself or their relationship like she was now. They were both having a miserable time and it was entirely his fault. He wasn’t sure what to do from here, he didn’t even know if there was anything he could do to help fix this.

*************

It took Harry a few days before he decided to look up the videos Taylor was talking about to see for himself why she was struggling so much to let this one go. But when he saw the video of you singing “No Hard Feelings” with so much emotion he knew it had nothing to do with Sebastian. He had to force down the growing lump in his throat and blink away the tears accumulating in his eyes, this felt like a goodbye from you almost and it confused him. The emotion was definitely tangible even weeks later though a screen, he could understand why it was haunting Taylor. And then he saw the pap video she mentioned, he couldn’t agree that what you had said was damning evidence, but if she felt that way, what could he do? He wasn’t going to tell her he watched them. They did make him want to call you though, but of course he’d leave it alone and decided against it, both for his and Taylor’s sake. 

Instead, he called Caitlyn, he needed to see what in the world you had been thinking when you decided to do that. He was genuinely curious. Of course, he first texted her to let her know he wanted to talk when she could. He didn’t want to just spring a call on her and risk you being there. And finally, the time they had agreed to talk had come and she was calling him. He strolled out to his back yard, taking advantage of the evening breeze while Taylor got ready. They were going to Mitch and Sarah’s place for dinner in a bit.

“Hey, Har!” Caitlyn greeted him energetically for her time of day.

“Hiya.” He greeted, “You sound chipper.”

“Just came in from a jazzercise class.” She explained and he chuckled.

“Oh shit, did it go well?”

“Yeah. It was really fun. How are you? How’s it going?”

“I’m alright, but it’s been a bit…tough.”

“Did something happen?”

“Well I told Taylor about seeing Y/N, so I’ve been making up for that…but I guess there was a show a couple weeks ago and she sang a song that has her a bit upset. She feels like Y/N did it on purpose I guess, to like…bait me in or something. And then she said some bit about it being important to her in the past and that’s kind of what…made Tay just lose it a bit.” He explained and Caitlyn hummed.

“Well, the song wasn’t to bait you, it’s kind of my fault she ended up singing it. The guy she played it with found out his ex was going to be at the show with someone else just the night before and he wanted to sing it for her. It was very last minute…she was the only one who knew the song well enough to pull it off with him the very next day. I volunteered her and put her in a difficult position where she couldn’t really decline…I knew she knew the song because she did listen to it a lot after…I didn’t know it would…affect her like that though.” She explained sadly, “I’m sorry it caused trouble for you, H.” Caitlyn apologized.

“It’s alright, Cait.” He assured. Now that he understood the context he felt relieved. He knew you weren’t a petty person like he could be, and he was a bit upset at himself for even considering that you would actually do something on purpose to bait him or cause turmoil in his relationship.

“I just feel awful…as you probably know now, she’s gone viral for it and it’s caused her some problems. It was such a vulnerable moment that she didn’t expect either so I know she hates that it’s kind of blown her up a bit.”

“I mean, she sounded incredible and it was just so sincere. Of course everyone’s obsessed with it.” He said with understanding.

“Yeah. She just feels really exposed, I think. And also, when she said that to the pap, about it being something form her past, she was super drunk. She called me the next morning asking if it sounded as awful as she felt it did, which I personally don’t think it did. But I mean, I could understand why Tay’s feeling upset about this.” Caitlyn said and Harry nodded.

“Yeah…I just don’t know what I can do to…fix this.”

“That bad?”

“Yeah…a few days ago she said that she wasn’t sure if she could get past all this. I don’t blame her…it’s a lot to get past.”

“Well what did you say to her when you told her about Y/N?”

“I…admitted that I still had feelings for her.” He sighed and Caitlyn did as well, “But like, I didn’t even know that for sure until she was right in my face. Like I knew I missed her, but just being with her again, it just brought everything that I’d been repressing up to the surface. I regret being honest with Tay, about it all.” He sighed, “She regrets it too apparently. Wishes I never said anything.” He added with defeat.

“Well it is quite a lot to get through. Especially if she knows you still have deep feelings for Y/N. It can be scary thinking that you’ve given your whole heart to someone only to discover that you’re not the only one they love.” She explained “She might feel like a place holder until you and Y/N can get back together.”

“Well she’s not. I love her too.”

“I know, but that just doesn’t work for some people, H. Maybe this is what’s supposed to happen.” Caitlyn said and he sighed.

“I never meant to hurt anyone like this…”

“Well, it’s collateral damage. There’s always going to be someone who gets hurt. S’why I was warning you guys to be careful with this.” She reminded and he hummed.

“Did she end things with Seb for me?” He asked after a beat of silence.

“No. They went to his family’s for the holidays and as it turns out they function under this idea that men’s love language is acts of service, as in, women should wait on us hand and foot while we sit around with our dicks in our hands…” she said with some disdain still feeling salty about the whole thing. 

“Get out…” he groaned with secondhand embarrassment for the male species as a whole.

“It was a whole thing…his sister’s and mom were talking shit about her for it after the first night. She knew he was babied by his mom, but not that she was like his fucking PA! Either way, when they got back they talked about it and he basically said that she’d ease into it and learn how to treat him and take a more feminine role in their home as their relationship advanced or some shit like that…and she was like “umm, you should be cleaning up after yourself because it’s actually my home”, and he got all sensitive about that, the fucking free loader…” Caitlyn said.

“God…good for her though. I’m glad she stuck up to him.”

“Yeah, and well, he actually broke up with her…she’s not upset about it or anything. Just more annoyed really as now he’s trying to win her back, but she’s just ignoring him.”

“Good. That’s good to hear. When I heard about the break up I wanted to reach out but I can’t.” He explained.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re seeing that. Especially with the situation you’re in.”

“Well that, but like I literally cannot. Tay asked me to delete her contact in case I got tempted to reach out again and I did, so I don’t even have her number anymore.” Harry let out a breathy laugh and after a few moments he inhaled and started to cry. Caitlyn frowned and tutted as she heard him breaking down.

“Harry, hey…” she cooed, “What’s the matter?”

“Ugh…nothing. I think I’ve just been holding that in.” He sniffled, “I kind of hate myself for making Taylor go to these lengths…I know she hates doing that kind of stuff too. And Y/N…god, why is she always on my mind. I can’t shake her, Cait. I just can’t…if I could change my heart I would. I know that it’s hurting us more than helping us.” He sniffled.

“If it helps to know, I think she’s made peace with the fact that you’re with the best person for you.” She said and hearing that physically hurt him, it made his chest tighten up and feel hollow at the same time. “I know it hurts her sometimes but she’s genuinely really happy for you, H. She truly is. So give it your all, yeah? Make this right.” Caitlyn said and he sniffled.

“OK. Thanks, Cait.”

“Anytime, H.” She assured him.

“I know you’re best friends and all, but just keep this between us, yeah?”

“Of course.” She assured, “If there’s anything I can do at all just let me know, OK? Or just listen if you need it.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

“Bye.” She said and they hung up.

Harry felt like a full blown asshole. He had hurt the two people he was in love with and now he had to choose. He had hoped that things cleared up on their own, but they were as murky as ever. It shouldn’t be hard to just choose the person he was with, but it was. It felt like he was losing. Well, who was he kidding, he had already lost you.

…. MAY 2024 ….

It was the night of the MET and you had just finished getting your hair and make up done for one of the after party’s. Caitlyn was your +1 to the parties and was more than excited to be tagging along with you for her first ever met. You’d been invited before, when Harry hosted, but you just laid super low. You even left his after party early because you had a work event in LA the next morning. Being the man of the hour you didn’t really see much of him that entire night. You did kiss him goodbye, but he was balls to the walls high on you weren’t even sure what, and that was that. This time, you were invited without any internal connections, but you were sure it was because you were still riding on that viral wave. You weren’t going to go, you didn’t want to keep calling attention to yourself. But your manager and friends insisted that you needed this, just to have a fun night out without cameras. And well, that was true, there were never cameras at these things, just outside.

“You ready?” Caitlyn asked you as you looked over your reflection one more time.

“If they’re where we are, we’re leaving.” You said and Caitlyn nodded in agreement.

You had been strategic and decided to party hop to decrease the likelihood of you running in Harry and Taylor after learning that they were attending together. You were feeling good, you’d successfully made it through two of the three parties you had been invited to and having a blast. Normally, you’d be dying to get home, but you had taken some E as you were leaving the first party in hopes to have endurance for the next two parties. You felt floaty and happy and tingly under its influence. You could quite literally feel the music around you, the hard hits of the bass tickled from the soles of your feet and up your legs. You were surrounded by people, probably in a similar state as you, dancing through their highs with racing hearts. 

And through all the dancing and euphoria you were making out with someone. It was in a dark corner and you had no idea who it was. All you knew was that your mouths were moving together eagerly. Suddenly, you were being tugged away, much to your dismay, because it did feel very nice especially while you were under this high.

“Cait…” you huffed as she apologized to the person you were with as she dragged you away.

“I think it’s time to go.” She said against your ear as she chuckled and you mumbled something about not wanting to go yet. “Babe, I just saw Harry and Taylor across the bar. We should go.” She said to you and that made your heart tighten and ache. 

Your smile dropped and you glanced around the busy room. When you heard a British accent behind you, you whipped around hoping to see Harry, but it was someone else. Then, you thought you heard his laugh and you turned in another direction, but maybe it was just in your head. You were at the peak of your high, so things were very murky. And as you looked for Harry, that nice feeling was starting to turn ugly. Caitlyn realized what was happening and grabbed your face in her hands and your gaze met hers for a few seconds.

“Hey, they’re all the way across the room. They’re nowhere near here.” She assured and you nodded.

“I need to use the bathroom before we go.” You said and she nodded.

“OK, c’mon.” She said grabbing your hand and guiding you through the crowd and to the bathroom. “Give me your bag, I’ll call your car. I’ll be right over there by the security check.” She pointed and you nodded a few times as you handed over your purse.

You walked into the bathroom and the white lights over the sink were far too bright for your overly dilated pupils. You hurried into a stall and struggled a bit with getting your dress enough out of the way so you could use the bathroom. And as you sat in the stall alone with your thoughts you started to feel cold and trembly. Your ears were ringing in the relative silence of the bathroom and you felt like the stall was starting to get smaller. You sped things up and hurried out to wash your hands, trying your very hardest to ignore your erratic heartbeat and the churning of your stomach. You didn’t even bother with drying your hands, you just smeared them against your dress as you rushed out of the bathroom. You were ready to get out of this situation before it brought on a full blown bad trip. 

But you came to a screeching halt when you saw Harry chatting animately with Rita Ora and Taika Waititi just a few feet away from you. They were laughing, heads knocked back in enjoyment. You were frozen for a few seconds as reality caught up to you and you glanced around for Taylor. She wasn’t in your line of sight yet, you’d wait in the bathroom. You took a few unsteady steps back before deciding that was the best course of action. You twirled around and hurried back, your heart was hammering in your chest and your breathing was completely shallow. You felt your body trembling like a dying leaf in the wind and your stomach was twisting as you stumbled back into the bathroom. Much to your misfortunate, you were met with Taylor drying her hands. You sighed shakily, about to turn back around but she glanced over with a lovely smile, but when she realized it was you it dropped entirely from her face in a moment. You turned around to leave again but then remembered Harry was actually right outside.

“You were with him just now, weren’t you?” She asked you with a frown and disappointment drenching her tone.

You suddenly felt sick to your stomach and you whipped back around and rushed past her into a stall and just started to throw up. You felt completely overwhelmed and overstimulated. Feeling as much as you did now was not to your benefit. But you were more than grateful to hear her footsteps receding as you spat out the sour taste from your mouth. You wiped your mouth with some toilet paper and flushed away your mess, trying your best not to get sick again just from seeing the mess that had come out of you. You were alone now and took your time to rinse your mouth and your hands, hoping they’d go before you had to face them again.

***************

HARRY’S POV:

Harry glanced over to the hallway for the bathrooms to see Taylor coming out with an unreadable expression on her face. He was still smiling from the laugh he had just had with Rita and Taika before they headed out.

“You were with Y/N. Weren’t you?” She asked with an accusatory tone and he looked baffled by this accusation.

“Babe, no. I’ve been standing here this whole time-”

“Well then why did she get one look at me and get sick?” She asked with confusion and a frown on her face. Harry’s face scrunched with concern.

“I didn’t.” He said and she looked skeptical, “I swear!” He insisted and she rolled her lips together for a moment.

“I want to leave.” She said decisively and he nodded.

“OK.” He nodded, “I-is Y/N alright though? Does she need any help or-” Taylor walked off towards the exit leaving him mid sentence. He was reluctant as he followed after her and glanced back down the hallway of the bathroom before rushing after Taylor who was practically out the door now. He was making his way towards the exit when he saw Caitlyn standing by the door on her phone. Surely she’d come along with you. Taylor hurried outside and Harry stopped for a moment to greet Caitlyn.

“Cait!” He called her name and she glanced up and her eyes widened and she glanced around quickly before she smiled at him as he came up and hugged her.

“Hey! How are you?” She asked as they pulled away.

“M'alright. Ummm, Y/N had a run in with Tay in the bathroom.” He said and Caitlyn frowned.

“Oh, sorry.” She said glancing over to Taylor who was now looking at them expectantly. She offered a smile and Taylor returned it before quickly glancing down to her shoes.

“She said something about Y/N getting sick. Maybe you should go check on her if she hasn’t texted you.” He said.

“Oh shit, thank you. I actually have her phone with me, we’re waiting for her car.” She explained.

“Then yeah, please check on her.” He said and she nodded.

“Yeah, she’s pretty fucked up too. But ummm, is that why you guys are leaving?” She asked and he nodded.

“Tay thinks I spoke to her…which I didn’t. I didn’t even see her tonight, I swear it.” He said and she nodded.

“I know, Harry. I believe you.” She assured and he sighed.

“Thank you.” He said and she smiled at him with sympathy.

“Alright, now get going.”

“Please, make sure she’s OK.”

“I will.” Caitlyn smiled and they kissed cheeks before he hurried out. 

Taylor watched as Caitlyn hurried back inside and then turned into the hallway that led to the bathrooms. She swallowed thickly and hugged her arms around herself when Harry tried to grab her hand when he came up beside her.

“I didn’t speak to her, babe.” He insisted again with frustration. “Did she say something to you?”

“No.” She responded monotonously. “Just call the car, please.” She said and he nodded and did just that, “Five minutes.” He informed her once he hung up and she nodded. 

A few moments later Caitlyn was rushing you out of the venue, but even the chatter outside didn’t mask the sharp inhales of you trying to breathe through your crying. You two hurried past him and Taylor and into the car that was now waiting by the curb. She opened up the door for you and helped you get settled in the car. Harry found himself taking a few steps towards you but stopped himself. He wanted to see you, even if it was just for a second. But Caitlyn scooted in behind you and mouthed one final ‘thank you’ before shutting the door so that you could take off.

The car ride back to his hotel was tense and uncomfortably quiet. He genuinely didn’t think that Taylor had any reason to be upset tonight. This was a huge event, lots of people were bound to be there. And still, he hadn’t seen or even spoken to you once in the entire time. He didn’t think it was wrong that he was concerned for you when she told him that you’d gotten sick. He would’ve been concerned for anyone who was in that position, especially at a party like this where he knew there were drugs and alcohol around. He tried not to be upset at her though because he had no idea what was going on in her head that made her upset. 

When they got into their hotel room she immediately slipped out of her heels and headed into the bathroom. He heard the door shut and then the shower come on. He made his way over and listened through the wood to see if she was crying, but she wasn’t. At least there was that. Maybe she just needed to cool down from the situation because truly there was nothing that he did wrong. He debated for several minutes whether he should call Caitlyn to check on you or not. And who was he kidding, he needed to check in.

“Hey H.” She answered him right away, “Don’t you worry, she’s alright. She’s just having a shower now.” Is the first thing she said and he smiled a bit.

“Good. Nothing bad happened right? With Tay?”

“No. She said that when she was leaving the bathroom she walked out and saw you waiting in front of the hallway, so she hurried back into bathroom. Y/N didn’t want to stir up any trouble by saying hi or just being near you if Taylor was around. But when she came back into the bathroom, kind of in shock from seeing you right there, Taylor was there and she asked if you’d just been together, that’s all. And well, Y/N said she just felt trapped and got anxious from the fucking molly she took and just got sick. She was just crying because you know how much she hates throwing up. Not because you were with your girlfriend.” She assured him.

“Yeah.” He smiled as he recalled this detail about you, “The throwing up is probably why Taylor thinks we spoke. Just from her reaction to the question, I guess.”

“Maybe so…but in all honesty, we party hopped all night because we were trying to avoid you. And when I saw you guys when I went to the bar I told Y/N we needed to leave.”

“Oh…” he said with some hurt radiating through his chest.

“Yeah…S’just that after we spoke last time I just didn’t want to give her any reasons to doubt you or to think Y/N was meddling or something. Obviously, Y/N doesn’t want to ignore you, but she also doesn’t want to complicate things for you. But…”

“Shit happens.” Harry sighed.

“Yeah.” 

“Well, I’m glad she’s fine. She’s coming down alright?”

“Yeah, she’s good so far. I’ll take good care of her.” Caitlyn assured him. 

“I know you will.” He smiled.

“And are you alright?” She asked him.

“I think so…we haven’t spoken about it yet, so we’ll see. I just- I don’t want you guys to think Taylor’s a bad person for this. She’s not usually like this.” He explained.

“We don’t, H. She’s just navigating this situation the way it comes, you know? She has every right to feel apprehensive.”

“Yeah. Thank you for understanding.” he sighed.

“Of course.” She responded.

“Well thanks for answering, I just want to check in. And I’m sorry if we ruined your evening…” he apologized with a regretful sigh.

“Who are you talking to?” Harry heard from behind him and he glanced back to see Taylor wrapped up in her towel.

“My friend Caitlyn.” He said and she looked skeptical.

“It’s cool, H. Go deal with that.”

“Thanks. Good night.” Harry said before hanging up. He stood and then handed his phone over to her to see the call history. “See.”

“But Y/N is with her.”

“She was in the shower.” He said and she bit her lip, “I didn’t talk to her. I didn’t even see her until they walked out, babe.” He said.

“And why are you apologizing for ruining their evening? Now we have to walk on egg shells to protect her feelings?” She asked him and he sighed.

“No, I’m apologizing for that because they had been party hopping all night precisely to avoid running into us and causing you to think something was up.” He said signaling between them and she frowned.

“Is that how you’re telling it to people? That I’m just angry about your ex?” She asked him.

“No! I mentioned to Caitlyn the thing that you told me before about the song and the paps. I just needed to be sure that Y/N wasn’t trying to get a reaction of me or you. I know she’s not like that, but when people are upset they can sometimes do things that are out of character.” He said looking to her, hoping she’d catch his drift. She scoffed out a laugh and headed back into the bedroom. “Babe…” he sighed as he sat on the bed as she dug her pajamas out in silence. “Did you confront her about being with me tonight?” He asked her.

“I’m not going to feel bad for that, Harry. I wasn’t rude about it, I just asked.”

“I’m sure you weren’t but-”

“She was probably going to though-”

“For fucks sake! She was running back into the bathroom to avoid having to run into me!” He shouted, “She saw me and decided to wait in there until I was gone. She’s the one walking on fucking egg shells as if she’s the one driving the wedge deeper and deeper into our relationship!” 

“So you’re saying this is my fault?” She asked him with a confused frown and he sighed.

“Tonight, yes.” He said. “I have…done what I can. Everything you’ve asked to try and make this work, to make it better. To have you believe me-”

“Harry, she’s still in love with you!” She shouted in exasperation.

“And what?! She’s happy for me! She’s happy for us! She didn’t delete my number and hasn’t reached out at all! Look at the fucking lengths she tried to go through tonight just to ensure that we weren’t uncomfortable! For fucks sake, just let it go! Please!” He was panting from how frustrated he was. He swore that smoke was blowing out of his ears as all of his pent up frustration reached its boiling point. He felt that he had been as understanding and as patient as possible, but it had been months of the same thing. She bit down on the inside of her cheek for a few moments. “I’m sorry for shouting at-”

“I think we both know that this has been over.” She said softly and his chest tightened. “I don’t like myself anymore.” She said with a frown, “I hate feeling insecure in us or just like I’m second best.” She sniffled. “I know you’ve never said that to me but just the fact that your heart’s in two different places makes me feel that way. Believe me, I have been trying to not let it bother me or just to understand how this can work for you, but I can’t.” She explained.

“I’m so sorry.” He apologized and she shrugged. “I never meant to make you feel that way. I just…I wanted to be honest with you, I felt bad for keeping that from you-”

“I know. I think you did the right thing in telling me but…I just, I can’t make peace with that.” 

“I get it. I do love you, though. You have to know that.”

“Yeah. But not like you love her.” She said and he sighed, “Babe, if you loved me like you love her then keeping your distance wouldn’t feel like a sacrifice to you. And clearly that’s how you see it. Even now, instead of checking on me you called your friend to check on her? I mean…” she let out a sardonic laugh.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to check on you, I just figured you wanted some space.” He explained.

“So you check on me and ask if I need space, H.” She argued and he swallowed thickly and nodded.

“You’re right.” He said.

“H, I can’t keep doing this to myself. I can’t even recognize myself.” She said with a frown, “Like I…I feel like I’m losing myself in trying to keep you and I’m not okay with that. I’m sorry.” She sniffled and he nodded.

“Don’t be sorry. I get it. It’s my fault.” He said with a sad smile.

“Yeah.” She whispered and bit down on her lip. "No hard feelings?" she asked and he shook his head.

"Of course not." he smiled.

If you enjoyed this feel free to check out some of my other fics...

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[wutheringskies]

Wei Wuxian: The Untamed Hero

Wei Wuxian had to be killed even if:

1. He carried his sword

2. He didn't use gui dao

3. He didn't create Yin HuFu

4. The Wen remnants were not in the plot

Then, why? The reason is here, voiced by Jin Zixun of all people:

Wei WuXian, you are too bold! Did the LanlingJin Sect invite you today? And you dare run wild here. Do you really think that you’re invincible, that nobody has the courage to confront you? Do you want to overturn the Heavens?”

Wei WuXian smiled, “You’re comparing yourself to the Heavens? Excuse my language, but your face is a little too thick, isn’t it?”

So, you see, this untamed heart can only meet with tragedy as the world is unrighteous, as those who are in power think their actions cannot be contested (and they often aren't!), and that their words are like the law. How many times have we seen, a convicted powerful person escape the justice system? Far too many. And how many times innocents or victims were framed for crimes? Also too many. People like Wei Wuxian aren't condemned by fate, but rather, being born into a world where the "heavens" are those who are powerful and corrupted, he very well might be destined to live tragically, along with others of his type.

Returning to the matter of this particular scene: on one hand, the Jins throw private banquets, gilded with gold. The major scandals are: Jin Zixun is forcing the Lans to drink alcohol! You see, Lan Xichen can't outrightly refuse, so he is trying to be polite about his rejection. Jin Guangyao is trying to reason and excuse, and distract. The crowd spurs Jin Zixun on, wanting to see the Lans drink for once and fall to their level.

Everyone is in their own fine little world, doing their niceities in their golden halls drinking expensive wine, admiring pretty women, gasping at scandalous behavior, asking for favour, gossiping etc.

And then Wei Wuxian walks in. Uninvited. He simply drinks the wine himself, before demanding these people to spare him their time for real wordly issues, such as deaths, debts, cruelty, the parts that society wishes to hide. A few scenes later, we are shown with much description, just how terrible Qiongqi Path is. That's the Jin's backyard. You see their achievements that are drawn on those big walls? We see the reality of the people making them.

Now, let us come to another incident. Think of the soup incident. I fully expect before Wei Wuxian came into the scene, people were simply gossiping, uninterested in finding out what was going on, why Lady Jiang is crying. Then, Wei Wuxian comes and realizes Jiang Yanli who never really cries... was crying, and firstly decides to beat the shit out of Jin Zixuan. Secondly, he understands the whole truth, beats Jin Zixuan up for humiliating his Shijie, and also makes the other girl face responsibility.

Although his shijie had an easy temper, except for how they cuddled and cried together the day the three of them reunited after Lotus Pier was destroyed, she hadn’t really shed many tears in front of others, much less cry so loudly, so pitifully in front of so many people. Wei WuXian was filled with panic. As he tried to ask her, Jiang YanLi was crying so badly that she couldn’t even speak properly. Then, when he saw Jin ZiXuan standing on the side, astonished, he fumed with anger, wondering to himself why it was the dog of a person again. With a kick, he pounced on Jin ZiXuan. The fight between the two would have alerted the Heavens. All of the cultivators around the base came to break up their fight. Amid the ruckus, he finally understood what was the cause of all this, and became even more angered. He spread his tough talk, saying that one day he’d definitely make Jin ZiXuan die in his hands, he told people to drag out the cultivator woman.

A round of questions later, the truth emerged, and Jin ZiXuan’s entire body was frozen. No matter how much Wei WuXian continued to curse at him, he returned neither words nor fists, his face dark. If not that Jiang YanLi held up her hand a while later, while Jiang Cheng and Jin GuangShan came to pull Wei WuXian away, it was likely that even now Jin ZiXuan wouldn’t be able to attend the hunt of Phoenix Mountain.

See.

The point is, perhaps, people feel Wei Wuxian's actions are unnecessary. But imagine if he wasn't there! The consequences as I predict them will have been:

1. Jiang Cheng who doesn't want to upset a prominent clan would've grumbled and cursed underneath his breath, but eventually just moved away from the ruckus and taken his sister away.

2. Perhaps the truth would never have been found out, unless Jin Zixuan later searched by himself.

3. Thus, Jiang Yanli's reputation would be stained for the years to come.

It's because Wei Wuxian dared that the truth was revealed. I took this small incidents simply to highlight this, without the addition of more factors. In the book, often, it might seem like people are trying to stop him from creating trouble. You might often wish, ugh, this is going to be so bad... The point is Wei Wuxian knows! He's not stupid, he knows of the consequences of his actions.

But he isn't the one creating trouble. It was already created by the likes of those very people who try to stop him from investigating deeper. The trouble in question is that immoral and unrighteous words and actions and decisions have already been made. Society tries to hide them. If you can't see it, it's not there. Yet, even if it is not visible, a crime has its traces and it will bleed into their world sooner or later.

Wei Wuxian forces people to snap out of their comfort zones. He doesn't care for the barriers they set around themselves. Here are some examples to explain what I mean by these barriers:

Who dares hit Jin Zixuan, who's the only heir of LanlingJin, even when he deserves it? Protected by his status, his birth, his clan who dares? Wei Wuxian does.

Who dares to annoy Lan Wangji, the second jade of Lan, who from birth is considered otherwordly, strict, immovable, rigid, untouchable and protected by his extreme cold aura? Wei Wuxian dares.

Who dares to enter cultivation society without even wielding sword, without even cultivating a core? Wei Wuxian!

Since time unknown, treasures have belonged to the powerful sects: The Lan Clan and their library, their many secret techniques. The Jin clan and their treasures, their gold. The Nie Sabres. The Zidian. Yet, a son of a servant somehow ends up possessing the most powerful treasure all by his own! Everyone goes to this popular refinery, some famed blacksmith, or that popular sect to get specially created spiritual weapons, yet Chenqing, one of the most powerful weapons, was forged alone by Wei Wuxian during his 3 months in the Burial Mound!

Since years, the cultivation world has taken to heart rules of Lans, words of the powerful sects, and their leaders! Then, once again, this orphan child comes and bends the world and changes the cultivation society forever! Yiling Laozu said that... Yiling Laozu created... Yiling Laozu's manuscripts...

His words literally become the law.

Think of how 13 years after Wei Wuxian's death when "all was peaceful" despite us knowing very well, just how much shit happened after his death - slaughter of minor clans, deaths of two prominent sect leaders, xue yang etc (because, you know, most of it was purely accidental, kept hush-hush, or the victims were people who weren't important), he comes back to life and in a matter of a couple of months, upends the cultivation society again.

The "problem" is that this guy simply doesn't conform. The problem is that he is better. The problem is that he is not unnecessarily humble about it, despite his origins. He doesn't seem to treat himself as an outlier, but an equal. (That's why I hate insecure Wei Wuxian, like this guy is righteous enough he won't even treat himself badly.) The problem is that all those barriers - social classes, power, the locked doors - they won't keep him away.

Even if he was only the Jiang Da-shixiong with a bright golden core, he will still not be a conformist. To those who aren't used to having their decisions questioned, he is their worst enemy. To whose who are used to talking in circles, spreading rumors, he is asking them. What source do you have? What is the factual evidence behind what you are saying? Why are you saying this now?

Think of how he cross questioned a petty seller selling Yiling Laozu portraits in Qinghe, and how he questioned the gathered cultivation sects in Lotus Pier during Sisi and Bicao's intervention with the same sort of attitude. Surely, there was a major class difference, power difference between the two. Yet, they don't matter to him. What matters is the truth.

So, no matter what, when the people who are in power, start having too much dirty laundry and corpses in their backyards, he will definitely know. For this guy, knowing isn't enough - he will get to the crux of the issue. The problem is, he even has the skill for it. He has the ability. One also can't distract him with offers, promises, gifts, riches, status, women. He doesn't care for any of that. He perhaps might even hate one's victims. Yet he will stand up for them.

Of course, those who are in power, all smile at each other. They understand things sometimes have to be done. People sometimes have to be silenced. "We know better."

Then, Wei Wuxian comes in and says, actually you don't. He comes in with factual accounts, evidences, forces you to face your misdeeds. Says you're all a bunch of hypocritical people. No, perhaps what is worse is that he will make you realize that's what you are! Because he's got to be good at talking, too! He's not going to act on anger or be stunned in fear.

So, now you have someone who's not only digging into your evil deeds, someone who's capable, who's not easy to persuade, but also someone with high emotional intelligence who can play the same role as you do, of being a noble, accepted gentlemen with immaculate manners, of very high literacy and outdo you. Because this guy knows very well how society works, he can comprehend social cues perhaps better than you can. He can use your own polite words and nature against you.

It's precisely because of this he must be killed. Perhaps, in every world, Wei Wuxian will end up being the victim. It's only that in MDZS, these were the particular circumstances, and those were the particular excuses.

My personal take is: sometimes it is good to be a centrist, and hold everyone's better intentions in mind. most of the times it might not be, as there are many conflicting systems in place that allow for true victims who are stuck. most often, the victims are always the ones who DON'T have a voice, who are brushed over as numbers of corpses, rather than people with stories. most often, kindness is shown in little action that are trampled upon by those who hold true power. most often the people who are good, who are heroes die young, or are hated and ridiculed, for speaking up for the victims. it's not right, and never will be.

if someone like wei wuxian or his presence in the book makes you uncomfortable it might be because you hold the "niceities" and the pleasantries to be of more importance than the issues at hand. just because something is too troublesome doesn't mean it is wrong. if everytime he enters the scene you're scared of what he's going to do next, you should know it's not him who is the problem but the prople who aren't doing anything who are. don't be scared of "trouble-makers." he's not erratic or spontaneous. he has considered society's standards and deemed it useless. why is that that the koi tower scene, where he is in his "yiling laozu, loss of control, threatening" moment is followed immediately by him being extremely kind to Wen qing ? it's not that he's losing control. it's that Jin Zixun wouldn't have acted and told him where the people were without him using intimidation tactics. Wei Wuxian is the one forced into bad corners by the powerful people, where he has to show his edges. Don't end up twisted the narratives. if you bite someone for a while, expect to be hit.

#wei wuxian #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #wangxian #my meta #my thoughts #cultivation world bullshit #my essays #When i first watched the untamed Wei Wuxian made me uncomfortable and scared at times #I felt uncomfortable reading the bits of his YLLZ era #and koi tower scene #ive done some introspection and grown

[sylasthegrim]

The Silver Princess - Chapter 1

Pairing: Cregan Stark x original female character (Targaryen OC)

Tags: arranged marriage, romance, romantic and sexual tension

Word count: 4,170 words

In the hope of maintaining a united realm, King Viserys arranged the marriage of Cregan Stark with the Princess Rowena, daughter of Prince Daemon and Lady Rhea Royce.

MASTERLIST

The Silver Princess

CHAPTER 1 - ARRIVAL TO WINTERFELL

Laena's funeral had been a tense ceremony, one Rowena felt she did not belong in. She stood behind her sisters, feeling like she had no right to shed tears for Laena, as all they had been were distant cousins. Everybody offered their condolences to Daemon, who looked like his mind was already thousands of miles away, on the back of Caraxes, and to Lord Corlys and Lady Rhaenys, to whom Baela and Rhaena clung like a lifeline.

The twin girls alternated between clinging to her and to Rowena, and every time she and Rhaenys switched holding the girls, the woman would throw her a kind, grief-stricken look. 

Everybody but her seemed to have forgotten that Laena had raised her for the past decade, and had been the one to take her hand and help her take the step from girlhood to womanhood. She had been the one comforting Rowena when her blood had come, teaching her what it meant to be a woman, a lady, in this world.

She had taught her to ride a dragon, and had been a mother to her as much as she could be. She had accepted Rowena never treating her more than a cousin, keeping her distance when she would have otherwise stepped into Lady Rhea's territory. She had loved Rowena unconditionally, uncaring if that love was returned with the same intensity. She had been kind and selfless, brave and undaunted, and a free spirit to the very end.

Once the funeral had passed, the parting words had been said, all tears had been shed and Vhagar had been claimed, Rowena followed her father and the Princess Rhaenyra to Dragonstone. She spent her days haunting the beaches like a ghost, hoping to catch a breeze carrying a scent that would give her a sign that Laena was still a part of their world, if only in spirit. But the wind only carried the smell of salt, the earthy scent of sand, and smoke from the Dragonmont. 

Rowena could only wait for her fate, which came in the form of a letter by the King a fortnight later, instructing her to go north and marry the Warden of the North.

After saying her last goodbyes to Laena on the beach of Dragonstone, whispering last words that got taken by the wind and away to the sea, Rowena parted ways with her father and flew to Runestone to meet with House Royce, who was to escort her to Winterfell. 

None of it felt real, yet it didn't have the weightless qualities of dreams either. Rowena wondered for a few days if she wasn't hovering in a strange stage between consciousness and unconsciousness, in a window untouched by time that the gods had opened for her and were keeping her trapped in. Yet as Runestone, its heavy stones and endless fields appeared, the familiar feeling she got, down to her bones, proved to her that it was all real. The Gods had been cruel, first taking her step-mother and her child, then putting in the King's heart the desire to make an alliance between his House and House Stark. The only comfort Rowena could find was that Laena had died a dragonrider's death, like had been her will, and that despite her life being cut short, a part of her would live on in her daughters. 

The journey was tense and contemplative. Rowena had never been further north than the Eyrie, and even though winter was coming to an end in Westeros, the farther north they went, the colder the air became. The grounds were frozen and a thin coat of snow was still falling. Above them, the great gray and purple dragon was flying, singing a sad and high-pitched song as they approached the snowy stronghold.

“There is still time to change your mind, Rowena,” Gerold said as Winterfell came into view in the distance. “I have a good rapport with both the King and the Hand.”

“What is that supposed to mean, cousin?” she barked more than she inquired, taking her horse a few steps ahead of him.

“If you preferred to remain in Runestone, where you rightfully belong, it could be arranged.”

Rowena scoffed. “I suppose this generous offer comes with the same price as the first time?”

“Does the idea repel you so?” he asked, sounding mildly offended. “You belong in Runestone, as Lady Royce.”

Rowena could not lie, the title appealed to her. It had been her mother's title and by all means should have been her heritage. But she had been born a girl with the Rogue Prince as father, and therefore bore the name Targaryen rather than Royce. All of her was a reminder of it, from her appearance to the wild flame at her core, the one she often felt blazing whenever she was upset. That temper her mother had done her best to tame by educating her in all matters that defined House Royce.

Now she supposed her name did not matter, soon she would be known as Lady Stark, and her children would bear that same name.

Pushing a pile of ash around with the toe of his boot, mug of warm ale in hand, Cregan was listening absently to the afternoon's council. He was usually more invested than this, ruling his estate with what he hoped to be an iron fist. The respect he got was still lukewarm in some parts of the North, as some Lords did not take too well to being ruled over by a young man, and had more affinity with his uncle, Lord Bennard. Therefore the man's council was precious to him, even if he sometimes needed a reminder that he only had been regent, and that there was only one Lord of Winterfell.

"A raven came from the Citadel this morning," Bennard announced, his booming voice echoing in the Great Hall. "Spring is upon us, but it won't be a few months until the frost completely melts from the ground."

"Do we have enough straw for the cattle until the fields unfreeze?" Maester Walys asked, as calm and collected as Bennard was brash and arrogant. The old man had been a trusted councilor since Lord Rickon Stark had passed, and he always appreciated his wise advice and prudent nature.

"We might need to ration as we sent a shipment to Raventree Hall a fortnight ago."

"Perhaps we shall send a raven to the Eyrie. With the upcoming wedding, the Arryns won't refuse us assistance if needed," Walys advised, and Cregan nodded absently. He wasn't entirely sure he had followed the conversation, but trusted the Maester enough not to lead him astray. 

"Speaking of the wedding," Bennard started, laying back in his chair and putting his feet up on the corner of the table, making Maester Walys raise one of his bushy brows. Yet before he could develop, a young boy with a bright mop of red curls came running into the hall, an elated look on his face. "M'Lord, they're here! The party escorting the Princess is just down the road!"

Putting the letter he was holding back on the table, Cregan turned to the boy. "Thank you, Mycah. Gather everyone in the courtyard."

"Yes, M'Lord!" Mycah bowed low, spreading his arms wide in a mockery of a courtly bow. Cregan chuckled as the boy ran out excitedly, the crease between his eyebrows easing slightly. Bennard rose, regarding him with a strange look on his face. He had surely noticed his nephew had been distracted of late, and had been all the more happy taking the reins on a few matters.

"This is a better match than you could have hoped," he said once again, repeating what he had already told Cregan a dozen times in the last month. "The Targaryens are powerful. This is your first step into the capital, into the King's affairs."

"I have no wish to step into the King's affairs, uncle," Cregan replied curtly.

"No matter your wishes, you need to keep an eye beyond the borders of the North. The King's health is declining, and soon there will be a scrabble for power."

"We have enough to worry as it is with winter."

"What the young Lord means, Lord Bennard, is that it does not matter which Targaryen sits on the throne, as long as there is a Stark in Winterfell," Maester Walys said, rising as well. Cregan may only have been twenty of age, and more versed in the ruling of an estate than politics, but he could see this answer brought no satisfaction to his uncle.

"If the affairs of the King worry you so much, why don't you go to King's Landing and offer your services, uncle?" Cregan asked, and it could almost have been interpreted as a dismissal.

"My place is in Winterfell, Cregan," his uncle answered, then, almost as a second thought, added, "At your side."

Cregan did not answer, instead strapped his coat of wolf furs across his chest and headed for the main courtyard. As instructed, people were starting to gather in a rough semicircle to welcome the Royce party escorting the Targaryen princess. Sara came out of the armory and stood to the side at first, leaving the area beside Cregan for Bennard and his eldest son, but her brother called her over with a simple sign of his hand. Sara nodded once in deference and stepped beside him, ignoring the hard look Bennard was giving her. Maester Walys stepped aside with a warm smile on his face, making it all the more obvious Cregan and Sara stood together.

The sound of great wings flapping in the wind was heard, and the crowd gasped as a great gray and purple dragon flew over Winterfell. It almost looked like a ghost, lost in the fog as it was, a distant high-pitched roar echoing in the valley. For a second Cregan wondered if the dragon was meant to land in the courtyard, but it simply flew over the fortress, only to disappear in the thick fog. 

A few seconds later, a party carrying the Royce banners entered the courtyard, and then two men came in carrying the Targaryen banner. Three horses were following them at a slow pace, two men escorting a woman. One of them was a King's Guard while the other bore the Royce colors and sigil, and Cregan recognized him as Lord Gerold. Between them, atop a great black horse, a young woman advanced until she stood between the two Targaryen banners. Her head was partially covered by a veil, but the front of her hair was visible enough to make its color undisputable. 

It was Princess Rowena.

The young woman dismounted before anyone could offer her assistance, looking around until her gaze settled on Cregan.

Rowena released the breath she had been holding as a young man she could only guess to be Lord Cregan Stark approached, looking stern and serious. The description she had had of him seemed to be accurate, and she was relieved at the comely sight he made. He was a tall man, with a broad stature hidden under layers of thick leathers and wolf pelts. His face was young, with stormy eyes and long dark hair pulled away from his face ; the sides of his head were shaved, thin braids tied close to his skull on each side. 

As her first relieved breath left her, her chest filled with apprehension again. He looked austere, and even though he was not unpleasant to look upon, she could find no familiarity in him. He was a stranger, in all senses of the term, and one she was supposed to bind herself to and bear children for. A sudden flicker of doubt appeared at the back of her mind, just as Gerold spoke again. “My offer still stands, Rowena.”

Rowena turned to look at her cousin over her shoulder, her heart beating wildly. Runestone was just a step away, in her cousin's extended hand, and if she took a guess based on the expression on Lord Cregan's face, a part of her believed that the young man wouldn't firmly oppose her stepping out of their betrothal. She thought back to her mother, to her teachings and her spirit, hoping to find guidance there.

Without another word for her cousin she turned to Lord Stark once again, taking a few steps forward and curtsying, keeping her eyes on him all the way. “Lord Cregan, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

The young man did not show any reaction at the lack of a smile on her face or the flat tone of her voice. He remained steady and proud, bowing his head to her quickly and curtly. “Princess Rowena, welcome to Winterfell,” he recited, his voice deep and warm as their eyes remained fixed on each other, gray meeting gray. “I hope you had a pleasant journey.”

Cregan held onto his composure as best he could as he was pulled into her eyes, two pools of gray like great winter lakes.

Oh, she was lovely. She had that eerie feeling about her person — like most Targaryen had, he had been told. Her hair was as white as the snow around them, the almost imperceptible flakes that were falling around them blending with her locks as they fell on her head. She looked cold and slightly disoriented, looking around her with a sharp, clear gaze, yet there was pride in the way she held herself. Frost clinging to her lashes and red tainting her cheeks, she stood out among the party that was escorting her and the people that had gathered in the courtyard to welcome her. 

Sara stepped up to them, curtsying to the Princess. Grateful for the silent support, Cregan turned to his own party, "May I present you my sister, Lady Sara. My uncle Lord Bennard and his son Benjen."

The Princess curtsied to them, not going as low as she had in front of Cregan, keeping her face impassible. 

"Why don't we get you out of the cold?" Sara offered.

"My sister will show you to your chambers, Princess," Cregan added, and she nodded without a word. As Sara took her inside, Cregan turned to Lord Gerold who had observed the scene with a mixture of disdain and amusement etched on his face. Leaving Lord Cregan to deal with her cousin, Rowena followed Lady Sara into the castle and up arduous stone stairs. It was warmer inside, and it felt good to be out of the cold and cutting wind. 

“Forgive my brother's lack of courtly manners. Rest assured that he makes up for in devotion, once you get to know him,” Lady Sara said with a smile as she gestured Rowena into a bed chamber.

“I’m sure,” the Princess replied curtly. Sara could tell she was not convinced.

Stepping through an arched door, Rowena entered her new room. It was sparse for the time being, but comfortable, she had to admit. The hearth was blazing strong and hot, heating the stone floors underneath her feet. Across from the fire stood a large bed covered with animal pelts, a wooden trunk sitting at its foot. An imposing dresser stood against the exterior wall, under a large window that overlooked a small courtyard. Numerous candles kept the room inviting and brighter than the hallway.

A young girl with rich brown hair came into the room, carrying a tray that she deposited on a table in the opposite corner, just as a young boy pushed Rowena's trunk into the room. Without a word, he bowed and left as quickly as he had come in. “I suppose you will want to rest after your journey, Princess,” Sara guessed.

“Yes, please.”

"Do you require anything, Princess?" the serving girl asked as Rowena took stock of what was on the tray. She was pleasantly surprised at the thoughtful gesture, as there was a mug of steaming goat milk, along with dried fruit and cheese. 

"No, thank you," she replied, and both the serving girl and Sara left her without another word, the ensuing silence a welcoming place for Rowena's raging thoughts.

When someone came knocking an hour later, Rowena was surprised to find that it wasn’t Lord Cregan but his sister once again. She was unsettled by the fact that the young woman seemed more keen to make her feel at home than her intended. She had had the time to change from her riding clothes to a more appropriate dress, made of thick black velvet with modest silver trimmings and embroideries. She had combed her hair and redone her simple braid, adjusting the veil over it in the mirror that stood above one of the bedside tables.

“Where is Lord Cregan,” she inquired, not unkindly, as after all Lady Sara had been nothing but warm and welcoming.

“In the Great Hall. I believe he thought it best to give you some space so you could settle.”

“That is considerate.”

Rowena was surprised, but she allowed a small smile to grace her face. She was not sure she believed Lady Sara’s words to be the truth, only that she was trying her best to soothe her anxiety and shine a good light on her brother. It was an honorable effort, and she could only command the young lady for it. “I will take you to him, if that is your wish,” she offered, no doubt sensing Rowena's true emotion.

“Please, Lady Sara,” Rowena asked, and the young lady offered her arm.

She was quite tall, almost as tall as a man, with strong features that reminded Rowena of her mother’s face. Her long mane was almost black, full of rich curls and waves. She looked exactly like Rowena had expected from a northern woman, a woman of House Stark, and she had the uncomfortable thought that she was a disappointment. In Pentos, her pale complexion and white hair had been a subject of curiosity and admiration, but the looks she had gotten in the courtyard hadn't borne the same feelings. Instead she had felt like a creature being scrutinized and judged. She knew what disdain looked like, she had seen it often enough in her childhood, as her hair was a constant reminder that she was not only half-Royce but also half-Targaryen.

As they made their way down the corridor and more stone stairs, Rowena took the time to take in the atmosphere of the castle. It was warmer than she had expected, sparse but efficient, and it had a sense of home Rowena hadn't felt in years. It was not as richly furnished or decorated as the manses she had lived in in Pentos, but it reminded her of Runestone and its comforting simplicity.

Lady Sara left her at the entrance of a grand hall, and as she stepped in she instantly noticed Cregan's figure, standing in front of a large hearth. 

The young man turned as she approached, and their gazes met once again. When she got close enough, she noticed with a small intake of breath that his eyes were different colors. It was made more obvious in the light of the fire than it had in the cloudy weather outside ; one was a light gray, like a stormy sky, while the other was darker with a warmer hue, a fascinating swirl of dark gray and brown. It was the most intriguing gaze she had ever seen, despite having seen the various shades of lilac and purple that her father, step-mother and half-sisters’ eyes bore. Neither her nor Cregan spoke for what felt to Rowena like a full minute, but must have been mere seconds. 

"Is your room to your liking?" the young lord finally asked.

"Yes, my Lord, thank you."

“The North can feel uninviting, but I hope you will appreciate me telling you, you are most welcome,” he said with conviction, and she believed him. He had a frank gaze and still hadn't lowered his eyes, regarding her with honesty and intensity. It was refreshing, albeit bold, and Rowena welcomed it.

“I cannot begin to imagine the situation you find yourself in. I am not a man of many words, and I may not be as cultured as you would have hoped,” he continued, then marked a pause, “but I will treat you with honor and respect.”

"I appreciate your honesty,” she replied. “And your self-awareness. I admit I had not expected to be sent to Winterfell, but we must obey our king. I suppose you would have preferred a lady of the north."

"Indeed, Princess," he replied, then added after a moment of contemplative silence, both of them turning to look at the bright flames of the fire. "You would not have been my first choice.”

She did appreciate his honesty, even though hearing those words made something prickle uncomfortably behind her breastbone. “Neither would you have been," she allowed herself to say.

“I suppose you would have wanted a silver-haired prince,” he guessed.

Rowena shook her head. “Actually, I would have preferred no one.”

Cregan turned to her and met her gaze with intent. “I hope my words don’t offend you, my Lord," she said.

He frowned, but shook his head. “No, they don’t. Quite the contrary. I expect you to speak your mind, Princess. It is a welcome quality around here," he reassured her, then after another pause, added, "Since we are to be married, might you consider calling me by my name?”

Rowena was unsettled by his request and for a minute she said nothing. This first step into this stranger’s inner circle, with all that implicated, was an uncomfortable one. “If it is the same to you, I would keep calling you by your title for the time being,” she finally replied, watching as the crease between his eyebrows deepened. Yet his voice remained the same when he spoke. “Of course.”

She knew blind enthusiasm would have made her feel uncomfortable, but she did not know what to make of his guarded composure. He was not cold, but there was a reserve to him that she could not see through. There was a wariness in the way he looked at her, and she did not know what to make of that either.

The evening was only made better by Sara's warm smile and a young boy named Mycah, who had a hard time containing his excitement. Serving ale to the men during dinner, his gaze kept falling on Rowena, and she felt warmer in the face of the boy's joy.

“Since Lord Royce is to give you away, we thought it best not to retain him in the North too long," Bennard said as the sporadic conversation was slowly drifting away from the matters of the realm Lord Cregan, Lord Bennard and Gerold had been conversing about. He swallowed his mouthful of meat with a great swig of ale before continuing. "The wedding ceremony is to take place in a fortnight, so that Lord Gerold might return to his duties.”

“Of course," Rowena answered, hiding her displeasure at being hurried into this marriage behind a careful sip of wine. 

“Also, this will give you time to come out of mourning and remove your veil,” Cregan said carefully, weighing in his words, but to no avail. Rowena’s fair complexion turned red, and it was not a lovely sight. She looked positively furious, a darkness spreading in her eyes, and yet she let no emotion show in her voice.

“Of course, my Lord," she repeated before pushing away from the table and rising gracefully. "I shall leave you, my Lords, my Lady, and retire to my chambers. I wish to bathe before bed.”

Princess Rowena's reaction haunted Cregan all the way through dinner, and further into the evening. Seemingly unperturbed by it, Bennard and Lord Gerold kept conversing about the realm's trade routes and other topics that mattered not to Cregan. Sara remained silent, observing him with a reproachful look in her eyes, and he knew to expect her to seek a conversation with him after supper was over. Yet all she said when she found him in the kennels, tending to his direwolves was, "you seem troubled."

"She troubled me, I admit," Cregan murmured, stroking the dark fur of the oldest wolf in the pack. "She is beautiful, I won't deny it, but she is as cold as her hair would suggest."

“She is in mourning, her step-mother just passed,” Sara said, not unkindly. “Give her time, Cregan.”

"She has no wish to be here, no wish to marry me."

"And yet she will have to. She will have to adapt to the North, to our way of life. The least you could do is take a step toward her, get to know her and her customs before you decide she is cold."

Cregan watched as the wolves curled around each other with pleased growls and sighed. "Let's hope the night will bring me council."

Reblog to show love. Comment to be added to the tag list.

#fanfiction #hotd fanfic #cregan stark #house targaryen #targaryen oc #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x oc #house stark #cregan fanfiction #cregan stark x oc #cregan smut

[maliceofminds]

Lesbian wolfstar - the expanded version

The list is based on the original rec list by @strwbi-laces (which you can find here) but let’s just get into it:

what’s mine is yours, decaying in your arms and her body is a temple down in the frozen food aisle , a shot of succubus , feast and a dash of fae by @achilleslikespeas (plus these two microfics x x)

don’t panic by redspottywellies

I’ve come home by @strwbi-laces

Cute thing by @padfootsoftly

All of @plecotusauritus microfics: gymnast lesbians x x x x x x x x x x and pretty things

All of @pinklume microfics: x x x x x x

pomegranates (chapter six of ocho kandelikas) by @spindrifters

just a restless feeling by my side by unwholesome_gay

It was all by design by @melodramvs

tough, tried and true blue by @worldenough-and-time

boredom by moonymajor

development

Sweet talk

You & I (together and apart) by chillsoya

if I could walk away from me by Barry_Manilows_Wardrobe

thirsty by WolfyWordWeaver

Lesbian Wolfstar pretty woman au by @spookymoonie

The whole lesbian wolfstar series by @aspiring-artist-em which includes Make me sweetheart, you’re safe love, Baby you’re okay, Too much Moony , please, I’m begging you, Mother, Remus Lupin and her little bitch, fourteen, you don’t love me you don’t care

Angel of small death and the beautiful lady (without mercy) by @strezzlecki

Fire on Fire by @atlasdoe

religions in your lips (the altar is my hips) by ourmidnights

Baby, you don’t have to rush by iloveuregulus

Song for no one by ninabnormal (@thebunnymen)

Comfort and Promises by TwistedShadows

Chasing after you is like a fairytale series by ManyCats which includes Don’t you wonder when the light begins to fade? , And I got back up (those days are over) and the things we lost in the fire

This microfic by @canyouhearmyfear bruises and water

Midnight girls and it’s companion piece Soul Somethings

Dress by criersw1fey

Summer refreshments and Last Chance by @wxlfstxrisbest

Miss sugar pink and She’s a rainbow by @samdaydreams

With your hair down and soft like summer rain by @lunarlivs

hand me my heart in the palm of your hand while it’s still beating , keep my heart in the freezer so it doesn’t go bad with my love , fate is giving us a hard time but maybe romance isn’t dead and God Blessed/Hell bound by @maliceofminds

Hang me up to dry by EuripidesTrousers(I_DDare_You)

She with the eyes my heart does blind and some part of me came alive the first time you called me baby and not looking for absolution, forgiveness for the things i do and only live to admire your beauty by @mothlau

Ribs are designed to be crawled into and Always pushing her luck by @sommerregenjuniluft

this is my body by @kaleidoscopexsighs

the first time you called me baby by @a-round-of-robyns

If I forgot to tag someone just message me and I’ll edit it, I just couldn’t find everyone’s tumblr tbh:). Also everyone feel free to add to this I’m sure I’m forgetting something<3

#i do love making a good list #and this was very neat #also thank you to everyone for feeding the agenda #lesbian wolfstar #recs #saved

[horeformilfs]

Blood and Broken Art

Mother Miranda x Fem!Dimitrescu Reader

TW: Self Harm, Isolation, Rumination, ED Behaviors

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

In the opulent halls of Castle Dimitrescu, amidst the grandeur of its ancient walls and towering architecture, Y/N, the youngest daughter of Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, found herself embroiled in a situation that would test the bonds of family and forgiveness.

Y/N had always felt a certain distance between herself and her mother, Lady Alcina. While she shared a deep connection with her sisters, Daniela, Cassandra, and Bela, her relationship with her mother was strained, marred by a perceived lack of understanding and acceptance.

One fateful afternoon, as the sisters engaged in a lively game within the confines of their lavish abode, a mishap occurred involving some of Lady Alcina's most cherished art pieces. Panic seized the room as the delicate sculptures and paintings tumbled to the ground, shattering into irreparable fragments.

Lady Alcina's regal presence filled the room as she swept in, her gaze sharp and unforgiving. "What has happened here?" she demanded, her voice cutting through the air like a whip.

Y/N stood frozen, her heart pounding in her chest, as her mother's accusatory eyes bore into her. "It... it was an accident, Mother," she stammered, her words barely audible amidst the chaos.

Lady Alcina's expression darkened, her disappointment palpable. "You dare to defile my belongings with your careless antics?" she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain.

Y/N's protests fell on deaf ears as Lady Alcina delivered her judgment. "You are grounded, Y/N," she declared, her tone final. "You will not leave this castle, attend meetings, or partake in hunts until further notice."

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as she tried to plead her innocence, but her mother's stern gaze silenced her. In that moment, she felt a crushing weight settle upon her shoulders, the weight of her mother's disapproval and the burden of her own perceived inadequacy.

"It wasn't my fault," Y/N whispered, her voice barely a whisper, but Lady Alcina's sharp retort sliced through the air like a blade.

"Enough!" Lady Alcina snapped, her words a harsh rebuke that echoed off the walls of the chamber. And with that, she turned and swept out of the room, leaving Y/N alone with her shattered emotions.

As Y/N retreated to her chambers, her heart heavy with sorrow, she couldn't help but wonder if her mother would ever see her for who she truly was, beyond her perceived flaws and failings. And as the days turned into weeks, the distance between them seemed to grow ever wider, a gaping chasm that threatened to swallow them both whole.

As the sun rose on a new day, casting its golden rays across the vast expanse of Castle Dimitrescu, Daniela, Bela, and Cassandra found themselves filled with a sense of unease. The events of the previous day weighed heavily on their minds, and they were determined to mend the rift that had formed between them and their youngest sister, Y/N.

With hesitant steps, they made their way to Y/N's chambers, their hearts heavy with worry. Pushing open the ornate door, they found Y/N sitting by the window, her gaze fixed on the horizon beyond. Her expression was distant, lost in a sea of swirling thoughts.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Bela's voice broke the silence, her concern evident in the furrow of her brow.

Y/N nodded faintly, but her eyes betrayed the turmoil within. Daniela and Cassandra exchanged a worried glance, silently communicating their shared concern for their sister's well-being.

"We thought we could do something fun together," Cassandra suggested, her voice tinged with hope, but Y/N's response was lukewarm at best.

"I'm... I'm just tired," Y/N murmured, her words lacking conviction as she forced a smile that failed to reach her eyes.

Bela's skepticism was palpable as she pressed for answers, but Y/N's excuses fell flat, leaving a lingering sense of unease in the air.

Reluctantly, the sisters left Y/N to her solitude, their hearts heavy with a mixture of confusion and sadness. Y/N watched them go, a hollow ache gnawing at her chest as she sank onto her bed, the weight of her emotions threatening to consume her.

Alone in the dimly lit chamber, Y/N allowed herself to succumb to the overwhelming exhaustion that weighed heavily upon her, her tears staining the pillow beneath her head as she drifted into an uneasy slumber, her dreams haunted by the specter of her mother's disapproval.

The library of Castle Dimitrescu stood in solemn silence, its shelves lined with ancient tomes and forbidden knowledge. Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, regal and imposing, sat at the head of the room, her daughters gathered before her like obedient subjects awaiting her decree.

"Where is Y/N?" Lady Alcina inquired, her voice cutting through the hushed atmosphere like a whip. Bela hesitated for a moment before reluctantly divulging Y/N's recent behavior, her words tinged with apprehension.

Lady Alcina's brow furrowed in displeasure as she rose from her seat, a sense of purpose driving her actions. Without another word, she swept out of the library, her determination unyielding as she made her way to Y/N's chambers.

Barging into the dimly lit room, Lady Alcina wasted no time in rousing her youngest daughter from her troubled slumber. "Y/N, you need to come to the library. Your sisters are waiting," she declared, her tone brooking no argument.

Y/N said nothing, her silence a palpable weight in the air as she complied with her mother's command, her movements slow and listless as she followed Lady Alcina to the library.

Upon their arrival, Lady Alcina wasted no time in addressing her daughters, her demeanor stern and unwavering. "Mother Miranda will be arriving for an important meeting tomorrow," she announced, her words laden with significance.

Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela nodded in understanding, their expressions somber as they absorbed the gravity of the situation. As they began to take their leave, Lady Alcina's commanding voice halted them in their tracks.

"Not you, Y/N. You will stay," Lady Alcina commanded, her gaze piercing as she fixed her daughter with a steely glare.

Y/N's heart clenched at her mother's words, the weight of her disapproval bearing down upon her like a leaden shroud. Tears pricked at her eyes, threatening to spill over, but she refused to let them fall, her resolve unyielding.

Lady Alcina's voice was cold and cutting as she reprimanded her daughter, listing off her recent transgressions with a sense of disdain that cut Y/N to the core. Each word was like a dagger to her already wounded heart, leaving her feeling small and insignificant in the face of her mother's displeasure.

"I don't want any more trouble from you tonight, Y/N," Lady Alcina admonished, her tone final. "If there are any more incidents, there will be severe consequences."

Y/N's throat constricted with emotion, her chest tight with the weight of unspoken words and unshed tears. But she remained silent, her gaze fixed firmly on the ground beneath her feet as she struggled to contain the storm of emotions raging within her.

Alone in the suffocating silence of her chamber, Y/N felt the weight of her mother's words pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket. With trembling hands, she retreated to the solitude of her bathroom, seeking solace in the familiar embrace of pain.

Fingers trembling, she reached for the razor blade tucked away in the depths of her drawer, the glint of metal catching the dim light of the room. Without hesitation, she dragged the blade across her skin, the sharp sting of pain offering a fleeting reprieve from the turmoil raging within.

As crimson droplets welled to the surface, tracing a macabre dance along her flesh, Y/N felt a sense of release wash over her, the physical pain a welcome distraction from the emotional torment that threatened to consume her whole.

With practiced precision, she tended to her wounds, cleansing them with meticulous care, the sting of antiseptic a cruel reminder of her own fragility. But even as she patched herself up, she couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of emptiness that gnawed at her insides.

Lost in the haze of her own thoughts, Y/N lost track of time, the minutes slipping through her fingers like grains of sand. It wasn't until she emerged from the bathroom, her skin raw and tender, that she realized just how much time had passed.

The clock on the wall taunted her with its relentless ticking, a stark reminder of the hours wasted in the throes of her own despair. With a heavy heart, she made her way to her bed, the weight of exhaustion pulling her down into its comforting embrace.

Cocooned in the darkness of her room, Y/N succumbed to the pull of sleep, her dreams haunted by the echoes of her mother's disapproval and the cruel whispers of her own self-doubt. And as she drifted into the depths of unconsciousness, the pain that had once been her refuge now served as a cruel reminder of the demons that lurked within.

The next day arrived with an air of anticipation within Castle Dimitrescu. The maids bustled about, preparing the grand halls for the impending meeting with Mother Miranda. Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, tall and imposing, oversaw the preparations with a stern gaze, ensuring that everything was in perfect order.

As the morning sunlight filtered through the grand windows, Lady Dimitrescu turned her attention to her daughters, instructing Bela to fetch Y/N for breakfast. Bela nodded obediently, her mind filled with a sense of unease after the events of the previous day.

Entering Y/N's room, Bela found her sister still entwined in the tendrils of sleep. "Y/N, Mother said it's time for breakfast," she announced, her voice a gentle wake-up call.

Y/N stirred, her eyes heavy with the weight of unspoken troubles. "I'm not hungry. You all can eat without me," she murmured, her words carrying the echo of a distant sadness.

Bela hesitated, a knot forming in her stomach. "Are you sure? You should join us," she urged, concern etching her features.

Y/N managed a weak smile, but it failed to reach her eyes. "I'm just not in the mood. Go ahead without me," she insisted, her tone final.

Feeling a sense of discomfort gnawing at her, Bela reluctantly left Y/N's room and returned to the dining room, where her mother and sisters awaited. Lady Dimitrescu raised an inquisitive eyebrow as Bela entered alone, the absence of her youngest daughter not going unnoticed.

"Where is Y/N?" Lady Dimitrescu inquired, her voice carrying a hint of impatience.

Bela shifted uncomfortably, a sense of responsibility weighing on her shoulders. "Y/N said she's not hungry. She told me we could eat without her," she confessed, her gaze falling to the floor.

A sigh escaped Lady Dimitrescu's lips as she absorbed the information. "Very well. If she's hungry, she'll join us later," she declared, dismissing the matter with a wave of her hand.

The family continued their breakfast in relative silence, the absence of Y/N lingering like a specter in the room. Bela couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that something was amiss, but she resisted probing further, trusting that Y/N would approach them if she needed to.

The grandeur of the castle seemed to amplify the quiet tension that hung in the air as they awaited Mother Miranda's arrival. Unbeknownst to the others, Y/N remained secluded in her room, grappling with the shadows that clung to her soul, wrestling with emotions that threatened to consume her whole.

The day unfolded with an air of anticipation within Castle Dimitrescu, each member of the family and the maids tirelessly preparing for the imminent visit of Mother Miranda. The grandeur of the castle seemed to echo with the quiet hum of tension, the servants scurrying about to ensure everything met Lady Alcina Dimitrescu's exacting standards.

Unbeknownst to the others, Y/N found herself ensnared in the clutches of her own private torment. Secluded in the confines of her bathroom, the familiar glint of a razor blade became both ally and adversary. As she traced the blade across her skin, the ritual offered a fleeting escape from the suffocating weight of her emotions.

Midway through her desperate act, a sudden knock on her door sent a shockwave of panic through Y/N. Startled, she hastily hid the evidence, assuring the intruder she would be out in a minute.

After cleaning herself up, Y/N emerged from the bathroom, her eyes betraying the turmoil within. Daniela stood in the hallway, concern etched on her face. "Mother Miranda will be here any minute. Alcina wants us all downstairs when she arrives," Daniela informed her, her voice a mix of urgency and worry.

Nodding silently, Y/N followed Daniela down the sweeping staircase, the grandeur of the castle becoming a cold backdrop to her inner struggle. Bela, Cassandra, and Lady Dimitrescu awaited them in the opulent foyer, the air thick with tension.

As Y/N descended, Lady Alcina's discerning eyes immediately fixated on her, a critical gaze that felt like a spotlight, exposing her vulnerabilities. A snippy comment escaped Alcina's lips about the time it took for Y/N to join them, her words carrying a sting that cut through the already tense atmosphere.

Y/N's shoulders hunched, an instinctive attempt to make herself smaller in the face of her mother's disapproval. She kept her gaze lowered, avoiding eye contact, as a heavy silence settled over the room. The weight of Alcina's words echoed in her mind, drowning out the preparations for Mother Miranda's arrival.

The impending meeting with Mother Miranda, meant to be a momentous occasion for the Dimitrescu family, became a battleground of emotions for Y/N. Each step felt like wading through treacherous waters, the shadows of her own struggles threatening to engulf her in the presence of those who were oblivious to her silent cries for help.

As the grand doors of Castle Dimitrescu swung open, heralding the arrival of Mother Miranda, a sense of anticipation filled the air. Lady Alcina Dimitrescu, regal and composed, stepped forward to greet her esteemed guest, her daughters Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra flanking her side.

Y/N lingered in the shadows, a silent observer to the reunion unfolding before her. She watched as her mother exchanged pleasantries with Mother Miranda, her heart heavy with a mixture of admiration and apprehension.

Mother Miranda's keen gaze swept across the room, pausing momentarily as her eyes fell upon Y/N. Sensing the weight of her scrutiny, Y/N instinctively recoiled, retreating further into the shadows in an attempt to go unnoticed.

But Mother Miranda was not one to overlook those in need, especially not someone she had known since childhood. With a gentle smile, she excused herself from the conversation and made her way to where Y/N stood, her presence a beacon of warmth in the cold expanse of the castle.

"My dear Y/N, how are you?" Mother Miranda inquired, her voice soft and reassuring as she gently cupped Y/N's face in her hands.

Y/N felt a rush of warmth flood her cheeks at Mother Miranda's touch, her heart fluttering in her chest. "I-I'm fine, thank you," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mother Miranda's eyes softened with concern as she pulled Y/N into a tender embrace, the warmth of her embrace a balm to Y/N's troubled soul. "You know you can always come to me if you need anything, my dear," she murmured, her words a soothing melody in the midst of chaos.

Y/N nodded silently, unable to find the words to express the gratitude swelling within her chest. For years, she had harbored a secret admiration for Mother Miranda, her feelings a tangled web of longing and reverence.

But their moment of intimacy was short-lived as Lady Alcina intervened, pulling Mother Miranda's attention away with a subtle gesture. "My apologies, Mother Miranda, but we must attend to some matters before dinner," Alcina interjected, her tone clipped with urgency.

Turning to her daughters, Alcina issued a command, her voice a cold reminder of her authority. "Be sure to be present for dinner tonight. And Y/N, make yourself scarce," she added, her words laced with a hint of disdain.

Y/N's heart sank at her mother's directive, a silent reminder of her place within the hierarchy of the family. With a heavy sigh, she nodded sadly, casting one last glance at Mother Miranda, who offered her a small, understanding smile.

As Y/N retreated into the shadows, a sense of emptiness gnawed at her, the warmth of Mother Miranda's embrace fading into memory. And as she disappeared from view, Mother Miranda couldn't help but notice the absence of light in Y/N's eyes, a flicker of concern tugging at her heartstrings.

As Lady Alcina Dimitrescu and Mother Miranda retired to the sanctuary of the library, the weight of their responsibilities hung heavy in the air. The grandeur of the room seemed to amplify the gravity of their conversation, each word carrying the weight of their shared burdens.

Seated opposite each other, Alcina and Miranda delved into discussions ranging from the affairs of the village to the machinations of their fellow lords. The air crackled with tension as they navigated the delicate balance of power and influence.

After a lull in the conversation, Mother Miranda's gaze shifted to Lady Alcina, her expression one of quiet contemplation. "Tell me, Alcina, how is Y/N?" she inquired, her tone gentle yet probing.

Alcina raised an eyebrow in surprise at the unexpected question. "Why the sudden interest in my daughter?" she countered, her voice tinged with suspicion.

Mother Miranda's gaze softened with concern as she met Alcina's steely gaze. "I couldn't help but notice something was amiss with her," she admitted, her voice laced with genuine worry. "I just wanted to make sure she's alright."

Alcina's lips curled into a sneer as she recounted the events of the previous day, her disdain for her youngest daughter evident in her tone. "Y/N has been nothing but a disappointment lately," she spat, her words dripping with venom. "Always causing trouble and never living up to her responsibilities."

Miranda's brow furrowed in consternation at Alcina's harsh words, a flicker of irritation crossing her features. But she bit back the retort that threatened to spill from her lips, choosing instead to maintain her composure.

Before the conversation could delve any further, a maid entered the library, interrupting their discussion with news of dinner. With a resigned sigh, Alcina rose from her seat, motioning for Miranda to follow her as they made their way to the dining hall.

As they entered the opulent room, Miranda's keen eyes scanned the table, noting the absence of one particular member of the family. "Where is Y/N?" she inquired, her tone laced with concern.

Cassandra, ever dutiful, offered an explanation. "She said she was tired and not very hungry," she explained, her voice tinged with sympathy.

Miranda's brow furrowed in puzzlement at Y/N's uncharacteristic behavior, her concern deepening with each passing moment. "That's unlike her," she mused aloud, making a mental note to check on Y/N later.

As they settled into their seats, Miranda couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Despite Alcina's dismissive attitude towards her daughter, Miranda couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility towards Y/N, a nagging suspicion that there was more to her absence than met the eye. And as they began their meal, Miranda vowed to unravel the mystery surrounding Y/N's sudden withdrawal from the family's midst.

As the lingering echoes of dinner faded into the quiet stillness of the night, Lady Alcina Dimitrescu extended an invitation to Mother Miranda to stay the night, considering the inclement weather outside. Miranda graciously accepted, and a maid was promptly dispatched to prepare a room for her esteemed guest.

Alcina excused herself to attend to some paperwork, leaving Miranda to her own devices. With Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela retiring to their respective chambers, Miranda seized the opportunity to seek out Y/N.

She made her way to Y/N's room, a soft rap on the door signaling her arrival. Y/N, flustered and surprised by Miranda's unexpected visit, hesitated before opening the door, her expression a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

"Mother Miranda, is something the matter?" Y/N inquired, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Miranda offered a reassuring smile as she met Y/N's gaze. "May I speak with you, Y/N?" she asked gently, her tone filled with warmth and concern.

Y/N's curiosity piqued, she stepped aside, allowing Miranda to enter her room. Miranda made her way to the edge of Y/N's bed, patting the space beside her in invitation. Y/N, still uncertain of the reason for Miranda's visit, tentatively took a seat beside her.

"What did you want to talk about, Mother Miranda?" Y/N asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Miranda's gaze softened as she reached out to gently cup Y/N's face, guiding her attention back to her. "I couldn't help but feel that something was troubling you," she admitted, her voice soft and reassuring.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her eyes betraying the turmoil within as tears threatened to spill over. "I... I'm fine, Mother Miranda," she insisted, her gaze darting away, unable to meet Miranda's compassionate eyes.

But Miranda was not so easily deterred. With a gentle touch, she urged Y/N to look at her, her heart breaking at the sight of Y/N's obvious distress. "You don't have to pretend, my darling," she murmured, her voice filled with tenderness. "I'm here for you, always."

Y/N's resolve crumbled in the face of Miranda's unwavering kindness, her tears flowing freely as she struggled to put into words the storm of emotions raging within her. But her breathing grew ragged, her chest tightening with each passing moment.

Sensing Y/N's distress, Miranda moved closer, wrapping her arms around Y/N in a comforting embrace. "Shh, sweetheart, it's okay," she murmured soothingly, her voice a calming presence in the midst of chaos.

Together, they sat in silence, the weight of Y/N's burdens lifting ever so slightly in the warmth of Miranda's embrace. And as the tears subsided and Y/N's breathing steadied, Miranda made a silent vow to always be there for her, to offer solace and support in times of need.

As Y/N's tears subsided and a fragile calm settled over her, Miranda gently broached the topic once more, her voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room. "Y/N, my dear, can you tell me what's been troubling you?" she asked, her tone gentle yet insistent.

Y/N hesitated, unsure of how to articulate the whirlwind of emotions churning within her. But as Miranda's patience persisted, she found herself unable to keep the truth hidden any longer.

"I... I've been hurting myself," Y/N confessed, her voice barely above a whisper as shame flooded her senses. "I'm sorry, Mother Miranda. I shouldn't have told you."

Miranda's heart ached at the anguish in Y/N's voice, her own eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Y/N, please, call me Miranda," she implored, her voice filled with tenderness. "And you have nothing to apologize for. I'm sorry you've been hurting so much."

With gentle reassurance, Miranda offered to take a look at Y/N's wounds, her touch as light as a feather as she guided Y/N into the bathroom. "You don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with, my dear," she assured, her voice a soothing balm to Y/N's frayed nerves.

Y/N hesitated, her fear of judgment warring with her desperate need for comfort. But with a silent nod, she acquiesced, trusting Miranda to guide her through the darkness that threatened to consume her.

With practiced ease, Miranda retrieved a clean towel and a first aid kit, her movements deliberate and gentle as she tended to Y/N's wounds. There was no judgment in her touch, no condemnation in her gaze—only a quiet understanding and unwavering compassion.

As Miranda cleaned and dressed the cuts on Y/N's hips and legs, a sense of peace settled over them, the weight of Y/N's burdens lifting ever so slightly in the presence of Miranda's unwavering support.

"You're so brave, my darling," Miranda murmured, her voice a tender whisper in the stillness of the room. "And you're not alone. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes at Miranda's words, a swell of gratitude and relief washing over her like a tidal wave. In that moment, she realized that she was not alone—that even in her darkest moments, Miranda would be there to light the way.

Miranda led Y/N out of the bathroom, their steps hushed in the quiet of the evening. "It's getting late, my dear. You should get some rest," Miranda suggested, her voice a soothing presence in the dimly lit corridor.

Y/N nodded in agreement, her mouth opening as if to voice a question, but she hesitated and fell silent. Miranda, ever perceptive, noticed the hesitation and gently prodded, "Is there something on your mind, Y/N?"

Y/N bit her lip, uncertain whether to voice her request. However, Miranda's reassuring words encouraged her to speak her truth. "It's nothing, really," Y/N mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

Miranda stopped in her tracks, turning to face Y/N with a gentle expression. "My dear, if there's anything I can do to help or make you feel more comfortable, don't hesitate to ask," she offered, her eyes filled with sincerity.

Encouraged by Miranda's genuine concern, Y/N took a deep breath and quietly asked, "Would you... would you be willing to stay with me until I fall asleep?"

Miranda's response was immediate and reassuring. "Of course, my dear. I'll stay as long as you need me to," she promised, her voice a comforting melody in the stillness of the castle.

She instructed Y/N to change into pajamas, assuring her that she'd be right back after doing the same. As Y/N slipped into her nightwear, her thoughts swirled with a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude.

When Miranda returned, Y/N was already in bed, her gaze lost in the depths of her own contemplations. Miranda approached with quiet footsteps, not wanting to startle her. Y/N looked up, her eyes meeting Miranda's, and she took a moment to absorb Miranda's appearance.

Miranda's face was bare of makeup, her long, straight platinum blonde hair falling gracefully. Y/N found herself entranced by the more casual, unguarded version of the usually formidable woman before her.

Caught in her observation, Y/N blushed and quickly averted her gaze. Miranda, however, sported a small smirk, teasing gently, "Am I that captivating without the usual regalia?"

Y/N stammered an apology, her embarrassment evident, but Miranda's laughter cut through the tension. "It's quite alright, my dear. No need to apologize," Miranda reassured her, her laughter a warm melody in the room.

With a comforting presence, Miranda settled beside Y/N, ready to offer the solace and support she needed. As the room enveloped them in the quiet of the night, Y/N felt a sense of security, a fragile yet profound connection that promised solace in the darkness.

Miranda shifted to the other side of the bed, slipping under the covers and pulling Y/N gently into her embrace. As Y/N nestled against her, Miranda's hand found its way to Y/N's hair, her fingers tracing soothing patterns as she whispered reassurances.

"Everything is going to be okay, my dear. I'll always be here for you," Miranda murmured, her voice a soft caress in the darkness.

Y/N looked up at Miranda, gratitude and affection shining in her eyes. "Thank you for everything, Miranda," she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them. Miranda's gaze softened as she looked at Y/N, her heart swelling with a warmth she had never known before. Without hesitation, she leaned down, her lips meeting Y/N's in a gentle, tender kiss.

Y/N responded eagerly, her heart racing as she melted into Miranda's embrace. They pulled away, a moment of hesitation hanging in the air before Y/N leaned in, capturing Miranda's lips in another kiss.

This time, there was no hesitation, only a shared understanding of the depth of their feelings. Y/N rested her head on Miranda's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat as Miranda kissed the top of her head, enveloping her in a sense of safety and belonging.

In the quiet of the night, Miranda whispered sweet nothings to Y/N, her words a symphony of love and affection. They lay entwined in each other's arms, the world fading away as they surrendered to the undeniable pull of their hearts.

Miranda continued to murmur sweet words of comfort to Y/N, their quiet conversation filling the room like a lullaby. "You're not alone, my dear. I care deeply for you, and I want to help you find the peace you deserve," Miranda whispered, her voice a gentle melody.

Y/N, feeling a profound connection in Miranda's embrace, spoke softly, "I never thought I'd find someone who truly understands and cares for me."

Miranda brushed a strand of hair away from Y/N's face, her eyes reflecting sincerity. "You deserve all the love and understanding in the world," she affirmed, pressing a tender kiss to Y/N's forehead.

They lay in the silence of the night, the weight of their shared emotions hanging in the air. Y/N, still absorbing the warmth of Miranda's affection, ventured to express her feelings. "Miranda, I..." she began, her words tinged with vulnerability.

Miranda hushed her gently, fingers tracing soothing circles on Y/N's back. "Shh, my dear. You don't need to say anything. Just know that I'm here for you, and we can face whatever comes together," Miranda assured, her words a beacon of support.

In the quiet intimacy of the moment, Y/N felt a sense of acceptance and understanding she had never known before. As they lay entwined, the world outside their embrace seemed to fade away, leaving only the reassurance of shared warmth and the promise of a connection that defied the darkness.

#resident evil village #alcina dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #mother miranda #mother miranda im looking directly at you #mother miranda x y/n #mother miranda imagine #mother miranda x reader #resident evil mother miranda #mother miranda x female reader

[dilvei]

SILENT SOLACE [part one]

"I'LL MAKE SURE TO KEEP YOU THOROUGHLY ENTERTAINED."

pairing: fushiguro toji x gn! reader

genre: angst, fluff, hurt and comfort

synopsis: After her death, it didn't take long for him to crumble back into his former self. Gambling the meager remains of their wealth, aimlessly drifting from one woman to another, all while neglecting the child they had brought into the world together. But things changed when he met you, once again.

PART ONE: CHILDREN OF MIRROR.

It troubles you sometimes when people say everything works out, that everything will fall magically into place, that all will be fine and none of us needs to worry because everyone will eventually find their purpose in life.

You have found no such purpose. And that scares you.

It scares you, as time mercilessly moves on, marching forward without any regard, indifferent to our struggles and desires.

It scares you, that so many people die, alone, every day and no one will bat an eye.

It scares you, because the world is a harsh and terrifying place, and you are but one of the powerless creatures amidst the vastness of humanity that can do nothing but watch.

You feel trapped, a mist covering your thoughts into nothing but a chalky haze.

Somewhere, deep inside the unconscious of your mind, you wonder if one day, you too can find a purpose. If you too can find meaning before your time in this world inevitably runs out.

Because everyone and everything that lives will always share one common fate.

Because death links all of us together. Because death smiles at us all, and all we can do is smile back.

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Your first meeting with Toji was not much of an eventful one.

It was a cold evening in the winter of January, and in your desperate attempt to fend off the biting cold as you walked your way home, you visited the nearest convenience store in hopes of purchasing a hot pack to thaw your nearly-frozen fingers.

Like you said, uneventful.

As you waited in line to pay, a string of irritated murmurs and curses could be heard from the people behind you as you silently watched the snow fall outside the glass doors. They were annoyed, glares fully directed towards the man standing in front of you who was clearly taking his sweet time.

Peering your head behind the man's wide shoulders, you realized why exactly that was. He seemed to be a couple of yen short. Your gaze flickered to the side, taking in the small array of everyday items the man intended to purchase—a toothbrush, some heat packs, two bottles of water, and a couple of packets of instant ramen.

Without a second thought, you stepped forward. 

"Want me to pay the rest for you?" The words slipped from your lips softly before you glanced up at him, and in that moment, you truly saw the man's features for the first time. 

Eyes of a warm, dark green met yours, framed by straight black hair that reached to his ears. A scar marred the corner of his right lip, adding a rugged charm to his otherwise smooth features.

Somehow, an urge to touch it welled up within you, though you resisted the impulse as quickly as it appeared.

Faced with such a frank question, the muscular man in the too-tight black shirt all but blinked at you. 

You blinked back at him before turning your gaze to the lady behind the register with a small smile on your lips. "Here, this should cover the rest of his items, right?" you asked, taking out the exact amount of money needed.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" the gruff voice of the handsome man beside you asked, regarding you with his narrowed eyes. "Of course not." You shook your head, and a faint furrow formed between his brows.

After a beat of silence, the man sighed, gathering his items before wordlessly exiting the convenience store. But he didn't exactly leave, no.

Once you had finished paying for your own items, you stepped outside to find him waiting for you, gaze fixed upon the falling snow as he took a sip from the water bottle in his hand.

You raised a brow, the soft crunch of snow under your feet echoing in the winter night as you slowly walked towards him. "It's pretty cold tonight, isn't it?" Your voice was a quiet thing, but he nodded.

"I'm curious," he said, a half-smirk playing on his lips. "Why'd you help me out? A stranger, no less."

"I just felt the need to," you replied with a shrug, a small chuckle escaping your lips. "It was no trouble at all. Besides, it seemed like a lot of people were already pretty pissed at you behind me."

He hummed in response.

"Who knows what they would've done if you took any longer, huh?" you quipped, a playful tilt in your tone as you massaged the hot pack in your hands, eager for it to quickly warm up.

This time, it was the man himself who chuckled at your words. It's a nice sound, you thought to yourself.

"I would've been fine. You can trust me on that," he replied, finally turning to look at you, gaze steady. "Say, what can I do to thank you? You couldn't have just done all that for nothing, could you? Got too much money on your hands or something?"

You gave him a wide smile. "Just consider it as a random act of kindness."

"Really now?"

You nodded in response, barely containing the urge to burst into laughter as the man appeared momentarily stunned into silence. You were being truthful though, it was simply a random act of kindness on your part.

And, to be completely honest, he had hit the nail on the head with his last question.

With your wallet being the way it was—bulging with cash, to be precise—covering a stranger's purchase at a convenience store wouldn't even make a dent in your finances. It was only a mere drop of water in the ocean of your wealth.

"Hmm."

The man took a step toward you, followed by another, leaning down slightly to meet you at eye level. "Thanks a lot then," he said, gratitude evident in his tone as he offered a small nod of appreciation. "I'll pay you back someday. Name's Toji, by the way."

"No last name?"

"...No," Toji answered back, gaze heavy with unspoken weight. You thought it best not to pry, it was clear that Toji didn't want to discuss the circumstances of his family, a sentiment you understood all too well, given your own family history.

"All right then," you said, extending your hand for a handshake. "You can call me [Name]. A pleasure to meet you, Toji."

Toji shot your hand a long and silent stare, cautious, as if waiting for something to happen, and when no such thing happened, well, a handsome smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "Likewise, [Name]."

His hands weren't warm, but they weren't cold either. The perfect temperature to hold on to, one you wouldn't mind not letting go of if you had to be completely honest.

As you felt the calluses scattered on Toji's palm, you couldn't help but wonder. What kind of hardships had the man in front of you endured that had left such marks on his hands?

"So, no last name either, huh?" he asked, smirking down at you, eyes fixed on your lips.

You laughed, and wiggled a brow at him for good measure. "Interested in me that much?"

"Don't push your luck, [Name]." An exasperated laugh escaped his lips. You felt his hot breath touch the tip of your nose. "I'm just a curious man, that's all."

"A curious man, huh?" you repeated before you both let go. "Well, if we happen to meet up again, I'll be sure to tell you what it is, Toji."

"Looking forward to it then," he casually answered back, and so you reciprocated by giving him a small nod in return.

The two of you parted ways soon after, exchanging phone numbers without even a wave goodbye. It was a fleeting encounter with a stranger, a random act of kindness done for no particular reason.

It wasn't until six years later that your paths would cross once more.

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He hasn't changed much since you last saw him, at least from what you remember years ago anyway.

The man called Toji still exudes the same indifferent aura to those around him, his ruggedly handsome face adorned with a hint of stubble. His choice of attire too remains predominantly black, just as you recall it to be.

"Seat next to you taken, Toji?" you say as you approach him.

His ears catch the sound of your footsteps against the floor loud and clear, but it's the call of his name that causes him to slowly whip his toward you.

You expected those calculating green eyes to be clouded with confusion and lack of recognition, but to your surprise, it's only one of those things. A smile tugs at your lips involuntarily. "It's been a long while hasn't it?"

He scoots away to make room for you to sit down, and you gladly take the seat next to him. Despite sensing a hint of familiarity behind his eyes, he then asks you with a smirk on his face, "Sorry, do I know you from somewhere?"

You play along with him, a playful glint in your eye. "Forgetting me already. Maybe you'll recognize me by the time this game is over, hm?" you say, cocking your head towards the field in front of you both.

Despite the night sky casting its dark hues above, the horse race being held on the field is as lively as ever, excitement palpable everywhere by the chorus of cheers in the air.

You flicker a gaze down, directed to Toji's hand. "Betting on the public's favorite today, aren't you? I thought you more of a gambler than this," you remark.

He narrows his eyes at you, but you sense no hostility, only amusement evident in the smirk on his lips. "Hey, now. I'm just making money with money here. Why would I bet on a losing party?" he retorts.

You laugh. "I guess we'll see who wins then."

The two of you exchange no further banter as you wait for the race to end, and when it finally does, you shoot the familiar man a smirk of your own, a stark contrast to the cute scowl on Toji's face.

"I guess I'm the only one between us bringing home some money, huh?" you say, teasingly waving the betting slip in your hand in front of Toji's face. "I'm sure we could've changed that if we had reunited sooner."

Toji rolls his eyes, then casually inclines his body to rest on the chair, one arm hanging off with an air of nonchalance. "Well, go on."

"Hm?"

"You came here knowing exactly where to find me. And I'm guessing you're not here just for small talk. What do you want?" Toji's tone carries a blend of suspicion and intrigue.

You blink slowly at him, carefreely resting your chin on the palm of your hand. "I'll pay you back someday. You told me that last time we met. Do you remember, Toji?"

"Six years is a long time, [Name]."

Your heart beats a little louder, its rhythm echoing in your chest. "You didn't answer the question, so I'm assuming that you do remember. How sweet," you say, a genuine smile gracing your lips.

"It's not every day a stranger helps me out in the convenience store, out of all places, especially when people tend to stay away," he adds, a note of genuine appreciation underlying his words.

Your gaze finds itself on the ground, avoiding his piercing gaze. After a moment of silence, during which you fiddle with the betting slip in your hand, you sigh softly.

You extend your hand, offering him the paper.

"Here."

Toji arches a brow at your gesture, but he takes the betting slip nonetheless, turning it around in his hand with a thoughtful expression. "You paying me or something?"

The chair creaks as you push your body to stand up, your eyes locked on the expansive field before you, now gradually thinning out as the people disperse. "Something like that," you answer quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Toji waits in silence, his gaze burning hot against the view of your back.

When you're finally ready, when you've mustered the courage within your heart, you turn back to face him, your voice finally found, steady and resolute.

"I need your help. I need you," his eyes lock onto yours as if the two of you are the only ones here, "to kill someone for me."

The smirk he sends you is answer enough.

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< next part >

#jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #fanfic #fanfic series #romance #slow burn #i cant find the artist for this so some help finding them would b very helpful :) #banner by cafekitsune

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Safe haven

requested: Can you please write a story where the reader has a panic attack and Azriel/Cassian/Rhys (whoever you prefer) helps her. 🤗

warning: panic attacks and anxiety

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Today was simply not your day. Ever since you woke up, you've had a feeling that today was going to require more energy than a normal day usually does. It wasn't only because you had slipped and almost banged your head on the toilet when you entered your bathroom, no. It was also the lingering sense of uneasiness. The day ahead wasn't something to write home about either. You had a couple of meetings regarding the clinics in the city. Then there would be some errands to run in the town, and if everything would go according to the plan you made, you would be able to make it in time for dinner with everyone.

Just fate took one look at your plans and had a solid laugh. Meetings were not only late, but the number of disagreements left your head pounding after just a few minutes. You tried your best to keep everyone happy and calm, but the last meeting ended with healers slamming doors and you with your head between your hands. Yet you tried not to let this dampen your mood too much. Still hoping that a stroll through the city would help you clear your mind, think more evidently. After all, you were going to meet up with the seamstress who was making a dress for you. The dress that you wanted specifically made for Azriel's birthday. Maybe it was silly considering that you two weren't dating and you weren't even sure if he felt anything for you at all. But it was his birthday, and you'd known him for so long, why not make an effort?

But even that had gone into shambles since the moment you stepped into the store, which was surprisingly packed with people, you were told that your appointment had been canceled. The material you ordered just for this had been sold to someone who offered triple the price. She offered you a discount on your dress and some new fabrics to choose from, but it just wasn't the same. It wasn't the same color of blue, and the fabric didn't feel flowy; it felt heavy and unpleasant to touch.

Then everything came crashing down on you. The place felt way too stuffy and so hot that you felt beads of sweat forming on your forehead. The sounds were so loud that you had to frown as you tried to understand everything the seamstress said. And the fact that there was no way you would get your dress now, especially not in time for Azriel's birthday, made your bottom lip tremble slightly. You would have stood there frozen if not for someone bumping into you in a hurry. You had to get rid of that feeling, so you turned around and walked right out of the shop. Not caring much that the lady was calling your name.

You needed to get out. Get some fresh air in your lungs. Just something, anything to make your brain stop for a little. But with every step you took, your vision got hazier, and your palms sweatier as you couldn't stop rubbing them together. Home. Now you just want to go home. You made a beeline for it. Rushing as fast as your legs allow you to, bump into strangers on your way. Running into puddles that had soaked your shoes and the bottom of your dress.

The moment the house came into sight, you were feeling slightly better. The cold breeze kissing your skin both grounded you and cooled the warmth that surrounded you. Your heart was still pounding, but you brushed it off, thinking that it was more from the running than anything else. At the very least, you'd be in a familiar environment soon. You'll pick yourself up. A moment alone. Being completely alone was what you needed.

You rushed through the door, hoping to not attract any attention, but considering how lucky today had been, you weren't surprised when you heard Rhys calling for you. You would have ignored it. Brushed it off and pretended that you didn't hear him, but you knew that Rhys had most definitely seen you, especially now that you were lingering by the door.

So you made your way into the sitting room. Swallowing thickly as you took breath after breath, right before you rounded the corner and pasted the best smile on your face you could manage to pull off. Rhys wasn't alone; that wasn't something unusual. Cassian was by his side, smiling as usual. It was the moment Azriel came into sight that you almost crumbled, but you turned your gaze from him quickly.

"You fancy a drink with us?", the high lord asked, already holding up an empty glass in his hand. "No thank you. I was just...", you muttered quickly, even if you were trying not to sound hurried as you pointed to the stairs. "Oh, sit with us, it's been a while," Cassian said, patting the seat next to him and wiggling his brows. It was true that you all loved spending time together. It was something you had done for as long as you could remember. Considering that you were the first to join the inner circle besides the three of them, but you just couldn't right now. You wouldn't be able to sit through this.

"I just would love to...", your hands were pressed into fists behind your back as you fidgeted in your place. "How did the meetings for the clinics go? You wowed them?", "Rhys, no work talk when drinks are out", Cassian quickly shushed his high lord but a cold shiver ran down your back and every memory from today came rushing back. You took a deep breath before your hand touched your chest. That same feeling from earlier coursed through you. You needed to get out. And you needed to do that now. So ignoring the confused looks, you turned around before rushing towards the stairs. You heard both Rhys and Cassian calling out for you, but just like earlier, you didn't stop. Didn't care. You didn't want to hear it.

You only made it up the stairs when you started losing the air in your lungs. It felt like someone had built a wall that limited your oxygen intake. A wave of coldness rushed through you. Like little needles poking your skin. But then the cold turned into burning heat. Then that turned into coldness again, and now you had no understanding of what you were feeling. You frantically moved your hand to your neck, pulling at the skin as if you might make a path for at least some air to come through.

Azriel knew that something was wrong the moment his shadows informed him that you had come home. Your body language and the slightly paler skin only add to it. He hoped to smile at you. To catch your eyes and maybe grasp what was happening. But you barely turned your attention the spymaster's way. Azriel couldn't help but frown slightly as he watched you squirming in your place. What had happened? Who had caused you so much distress?

The moment you ran off, Azriel was up on his feet in an instant. He would have left you alone. And maybe he was just imagining that something was seriously wrong but it's like his feet walked of their own free will. He brushed the other two males away as he darted after you. The sight in front of him made him heartbroken. You shook and gripped your neck as you leaned against the wall, face stained with tears.

You felt the warmth of someone's touch before you heard their voice. Your vision was so blurry that you could only make out a silhouette that stood in front of you. "Sweetheart, hey, look at me, look at me", the firm hands came in contact with the skin on your face cupping it softly. You just shook your head, not sure of what to do. You felt like you were going to choke. Azriel's mind was racing as he watched you struggle against his touch. "Love, you need to try to breathe," scrambling for your hand. Azriel quickly placed it on his chest before returning his attention to you. "Can you hear me? Can you show me that you can hear me?", asked the spymaster, trying to keep his heartbeat steady as he waited for any response from you. 

After yet another choked-out breath, you nodded your head just slightly. Azriel mimicked the motion as well as he continued, "Focus your mind on the movement of my chest." With a deep breath in his lungs welcoming the air, his chest rose, and your hand moved up with it. "Try to breathe in the same pattern, love, just like that." Even if you only managed to get a couple of broken inhales in, it felt like the biggest achievement to Azriel.

"I... can't...," you whimpered, but Azriel only moved one of his hands to the back of your head, slowly bringing you closer so that your forehead would rest on his. The space between you vanishes into nothingness. And now, beside his heart, you also felt the calm pattern of his breath tickling your skin. "Yes, you can. You're already doing it; give me a few more breaths," the shadow singer urged, gently swaying you from side to side.

So you did just as he told you. Trying to breathe even through the sharp stings in your chest, you kept your eyes closed as you let your mind slowly fill with the drumming of Azriel's heart. With both hands on his chest now, you could feel and almost hear the pattern of his heartbeat.

"Good job, sweet girl, good job," one of his hands moved to run up and down your back once your breathing returned to normal, and Azriel's fear of you passing out faded. "Can you tell me three things you can touch now?", the spymaster knew that panic like this had a tendency to return at the speed of light. So he had to ensure that you were fully grounded. "Whenever you are ready you can tell me", "I...", you breathed but your voice broke as if you had forgotten how to form sentences, "The wall, my-my dress, you", swallowing harshly you braced yourself even more onto Azriel, the spymaster hummed to your answers. 

"What about things you can hear?", you frowned your eyebrows. The sounds were still somewhat cloudy, but you tried to discern at least something. "Your voice and heart", muttering quietly you turned your head to the side, "Someone's pushing something downstairs", "That's probably Cassian in his interior designer era". The corner of your lip curled up ever so slightly, and Azriel found himself smiling as well.

"And can you see anything?", now Azriel knew this was asking for a lot. Your eyes had been closed tightly ever since he found you here. But if he could get you to let go of that final bit of tension in your body, maybe... Your eyes opened slowly and were met with Azriel's face. His amber eyes looking right at you. "You. I can see you", you didn't even realize that your body had eased up till now. And only now did the thought of him standing right in front of you hit you, "Here are my favorite eyes; I'm happy to see them again," he whispered, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.

The tears came without warning, and you only managed to choke up a sob. Azriel quickly pulled you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you as you hiccup. "I'm so sorry," you screeched, "You must think I'm a weirdo now." But Azriel only smiled at you fondly, "I would never think such things, sweetie; you are far away from a weirdo. If there's a weirdo here, it's me," he remarked casually. You wrapped your arms around his torso, burying your face into his toned chest. The smell of him welcomed another wave of calmness.

"Do you want to tell me what got you so worked up, huh?", Azriel questioned after a while, pulling away from you ever so slightly. Just enough so he could see your face and wipe the last tears off your cheeks. You debated about it for a moment. But it was Azriel. Azriel, who had known you for the majority of your life, a male you had an awfully big crush on. So you caved in. Blaring out everything about the complicated meetings and only stopping before you started telling him about the dress and his birthday.

"You know that I don't care what you wear, you look amazing regardless", a breath caught in your chest once again at the words Azriel had spoken. "But it's yours... And I just wanted to... And I love ...", Azriel put his finger on your lips shushing you softly before he mumbled, "I love you too". 

You gaped at him, cheeks going pink, and you knew there was no way you could hide it. "I didn't say that," you muttered, "But I did. For both of us. I've loved you for quite some time", you couldn't help a smile that painted your lips as you once again leaned against Azriel's chest. "Now come on let me get you to bed you need to rest", scooping you up in his arms Azriel moved to walk through the corridor, "Will you come with me?", "There's no other option, love".

#azriel x reader #acotar imagine #azriel x you #acotar x reader

[eletricheart]

First Valentine

(Donna Beneviento x Reader)

*pinterest

Word count: 1395 (ish)

So...I kind of felt bad for my last story being extremely sad. This is mostly fluff there's like one second of angst but i promise it's a happy story😭

ps: i wrote this way too fast pls lmk any mistakes

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

You met Donna by deciding to pick flowers for your catalog and consequently getting lost. The dollmaker noticed your good intentions so made a flower path back into the village. She thought that would be the end of it, but you kept coming back, going further each day, knowing a path would eventually show so you could find your way home.

It was a fun game for you, however things were different for Donna. She was beyond stressed not only over why you kept coming back but also how dangerous the path was, especially if you left only at night.

One day, you wandered too far, completely ignoring the flower path. You reached her house near nightfall, leaving your catalog by her doorstep and sprinting back home to not arrive too late.

Safe to say Donna was worried you wouldn't show up the next day due to getting eaten by a lycan. She appreciated the catalog but did not understand why it was drawn since you took the flowers home everyday.

You did go the next day, this time with a cart because you simply could not carry a box the entire way to her house.

Angie was ready to scare you off once you arrived, but to the Lady of the house surprise, you didn't even flinch. Instead you spent the day talking to Angie about your catalog and showing the box full of vases with each flower you picked. You felt like you should give it back, since they belonged to Lady Beneviento.

Donna never went too far away from her Manor, afraid of running into someone even though it was her territory. But she opened an exception for you. The catalog was too much for her, she spiraled the entire day, and then you not only saved the flowers but was also so nice to Angie. She wanted, needed, you gone.

She stopped you a few steps into her dominion, shaking her head and pointing for the way back into the village.

You stared at her wide eyed, momentarily frozen. Once you regained your senses you nodded and went back home thinking that maybe it was just a bad day.

You went back the other day, and she sent you away, so you went back again and she sent you away again. It was like that for a whole month until she gave up and allowed you in. It took another month for her to stay in the same room as you.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Your first date came as a surprise to both of you. Apparently Angie had enough of you dancing around each other and locked you in a closet with a cereal box and a note saying "kiss".

Donna was frozen on spot while you were blushing furiously.

After an hour of knocking and begging Angie to let you out, you decided to open the cereal and accept your fate.

You were quick to offer to the silent woman in the room who accepted and sat beside you.

Donna was the first to break the silence. "I'm sorry about her. She's impulsive sometimes."

You chuckled and nodded. "Once she almost cut off my finger because she said i was taking too long to cut a carrot."

The dollmaker laughed and gave you a mischievous smile. "It was too long, you were there for ten minutes."

You faked an expression of betrayal and gasped. "Even you?! In my defense, there was something wrong with the knife."

"There wasn't, I had just sharpened it."

You pouted in response. "If I could, I'd walk out of here in outrage."

She giggled and lightly pushed your shoulder. "I'll stop then."

You rolled your eyes and looked back at the note. "How would she know if we kissed?"

Before Donna could even answer, you heard Angie yelling from the other side of the door. "I'm all knowing!"

Donna slightly jumped. "I raised a psychopath."

You looked at her with a solemnly. "Yes. Yes, you did."

The dollmaker threw a handfull of cereal at you right after. "I'm sorry again, she hates it when I keep a secret."

You shrugged. "Don't worry about it, I like spending time with you."

Donna blushed furiously, picking on her sleeve to slow her heart beat. "I like spending time with you too."

You nodded in understanding. "And...what if I said I liked you?"

"I'd say I like you too."

You were both smiling at each other when Angie made herself known again. "Cute but I haven't seen a kiss yet!"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not letting her play with knives for the next decades." You said, looking over at Donna who was strangely serious. "You okay?" You asked, holding her hand.

The dollmaker nodded and stared down at your joined hands. "Can I do something impulsive?"

"Knock yourself out."

And that was your first kiss. Well...on the cheek.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Now, a year later, you were rushing around the village trying to find the perfect Valentine gift for Donna. You were both new relationship wise, at first you thought of a handmade gift but one call to Alcina and you were convinced you had to buy something expensive. Hence you head first into a tree waiting for the Duke to be over with his daily sales so he could help you.

It was almost nightfall when you returned to the Manor defeated. You didn't want to disappoint Donna, you knew how much she was secretly hoping for a gift, that was her love language after all.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You were standing in the kitchen one hour before sunrise, you had tried countless recipes going from full meals to simple desserts, none of them seemed worth showing to Donna, how could you give a badly cooked pasta to an italian, practically a death wish.

The dollmaker was worried, she noticed you arriving late from town and leaving the bed early in the night.

She couldn't help but second guess your entire relationship, Valentine’s day was coming and you were only together for a year, this would be the first. What if you realized you didn't like her anymore? What if you're bored of her routine?

Donna wanted to go after you or at least spy through her dolls, but she was too scared of a heartbreak. So she stayed in bed, silently crying.

You went back to bed after cleaning the kitchen, leaving no evidence of your probable criminal offense to her nation. You were confused by Donna still in bed but too tired to give much thought, choosing to bury your head in the pillow.

You were almost sleeping when you heard Donna speak.

“Are you gonna leave me?”

You quickly lifted your body and turned your head towards her hidden form. “What?”

The dollmaker pulled the covers more against her face. “It’s okay, just say it and leave…please.”

You had never felt more awake than now. Your mouth was left open, stuttering a few words before properly speaking. “Donna, I-no, I-I wouldn't leave. Do you want me to leave?”

You could see her shaking her head and pulling her body even closer to herself.

You sat down next to her and gently touched her shoulder. “Okay. Can you tell me what happened?”

Donna shrugged and tried to stop from sobbing. “You spent the whole day and night out, right before Valentine’s day. I just…I know that being with me isn’t exciting or fun.”

You took a deep breath, regretting not being honest with her. "I was with the Duke, trying to find a gift for you. It was pointless so I tried to cook all night and well…nothing was very edible. I’m sorry, I got too caught up in making this perfect that I didn't pay attention to you.” You said, pouting softly and resting your chin on her shoulder. “I’m really sorry. Will you forgive me?”

Donna slowly removed the cover, wiping her tears. “I’m sorry too.”

You gave her a comprehensive smile. “It’s okay. I still don't have a gift though.”

She chuckled. “We can make something together.”

You nodded. “That sounds perfect. Just not in the kitchen, I threw a lot of products there to hide the smell.”

She looked at you wide eyed trying to fight a smile. “What on earth did you do?”

You laughed and shook your head. “Trust me, you don't wanna know.”

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

requests are open: my masterlist

#resident evil village #re8 #donna beneviento #resident evil #donna beneviento x reader #lady beneviento #re8 donna #resident evil donna beneviento x reader #resident evil donna #lady beneviento x reader #lady angie #resident evil 8 #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil fandom #re8 fanfiction #re8 fic #resident evil fluff #pure fluff

[arpmemething2]

Batman the Animated Series sentence starters

Send one for my muse’s reaction.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"All right, scum bucket, it's you, me, and thirty stories. You're gonna tell me exactly what I want to know."

"That's one way to remove a splinter."

"I have this natural immunity against poisons, toxins, the pain and suffering of others. Go figure."

"I failed you. I wish there were another way for me to say it. I cannot. I can only beg your forgiveness, and pray you hear me somehow, someplace... someplace where a warm hand waits for mine."

"Last time we met, you tried to throw me off a building."

"If you think I've been bad news before..."

"Old and infirm as you are, I'd trade a thousand of my frozen years for your worst day."

"What kind of a saboteur uses a six-thousand dollar Metronex to set a time bomb?"

"I never counted on being happy."

"A strong mind can fuel a frail body."

"I need a new car."

"There's no way you could have escaped from that explosion! How did you get out?"

"I'm gettin' too old for this."

"I suppose what they say is true: society is to blame. High society."

"Succumb to the fear!"

"Gee, it's amazing the things you find in people's glove compartments."

"Children and guns do not mix. Ever."

"I'm having a BAD DAY! I'm sick of people trying to shoot me, run me over or blow me up!"

"They're not stupid, and it's your party."

"Aren't they just the cutest family you've ever seen?"

"It's midnight darling, time to unmask."

"It's gonna be one of those nights."

"When you look too long into the abyss, the abyss looks back through you."

"If you're so smart, why aren't you rich?"

"You've got to admit there's something between us."

"There's always time to heal."

"I didn't realize you'd taken up listening to rock and roll."

"Choosing a weekend date?"

"I don't believe in fate."

"An entire city screaming in fear. I wonder if we'll be able to hear it."

"Some thought I'd gone mad. Others thought I always had been. And so they put me where they thought I belonged."

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no tales."

"This city would fall apart without you!"

"I love that trick but I can never make it work."

"Taking up video games, are we?"

"I hate it when he does that."

"You are strong... but not strong enough!"

"They don't make straight jackets like they used to. I should know."

"He's not samurai. He's NINJA. They're spies and assassins. Their only code is to get the job done."

"A pixel is worth a thousand words."

"I am vengeance! I am the night!!"

"And who says opera has to be boring?"

"He always knew how to make an exit."

"Hey! Do I hit your kids? Oh, actually I do..."

"Now boys, didn't your mommies teach you that's not the way to get a lady's attention?"

"Not the robot theory again."

"Freeze, maggots! You're all under arrest!"

"You said you'd never let me go home!"

"What was she before she went bonkers?"

"This used to be a beautiful street. Good people lived here once."

"'Tis better to have loved and lost, and made a small profit, than never to have loved at all!"

"Chance is everything. Whether you're born or not, whether you live or die, whether you're good or bad. It's all arbitrary."

"But you've forgotten the first rule of comedy: if you have to explain the joke... THEN IT ISN'T FUNNY!"

"I told you not to speak!"

"Coming through! Hot stuff!"

"The snow is beautiful, don't you think? Clean, uncompromising..."

"When the going gets tough, the tough go shopping."

"What a pleasant surprise. Though I should warn you - breaking and entering is against the law."

"This could cause a stampede to pork."

"You really know how to put the fun in funeral."

"You ought to put your toys away."

"Would not, could not... would not, could not... oh, could not join the dance."

"Home. I never thought that could sound so good."

"Then I'll see you in your nightmares!"

"As the Bard said, "the fault lies not in our stars, but in ourselves.""

"You know what I'd have given for a death scene like this. Too bad I won't get to read the notices."

"He's a little protective of all this. I think he likes bats better than people."

"All your power and money has bought you an empire of misery."

"Don't try this at home kids!"

"I feel ill."

"Well, that was fun! Now, who's for Chinese?"

"You're about to fall out of orbit."

"Why can't he ever stay dead?"

"They can bury me in the ground, as deep as they like. But I'll grow back. We always grow back. Don't we, baby?"

"All men have something to hide. The brighter the picture, the darker the negative."

"You thought I was just another bubble-headed blond bimbo! Well, the joke's on you, 'cause I'm not even a real blonde."

"When the wage slaves start acting like they own the place, it's time to pull the plug."

"I've been known to be foolish, but ain't nobody calls me a liar and goes to bed happy."

"Since you don't like my side-splitters, how 'bout a skull-splitter?"

"This is kidnapping, mister! Last time I checked, it was highly illegal!"

[theroyalhouseofwindenburg]

In the spring of 1348, Windenburg was crumbling under the weight of the Black Death. Countless lives succumbed to the relentless plague, streets transformed into macabre scenes of despair. The pervasive stench of burning flesh lingered. The once-thriving city now echoed with the cries of mourning, as the relentless specter of death cast a sinister shadow over every corner. The realm itself seemed to be ensnared in an earthly hell, gripped by an unforgiving fate that spared none.

The merciless plague showed no mercy, claiming victims indiscriminately, children included. Within a heartbeat, entire family legacies crumbled into oblivion. Hope and prayer, feeble defenses against an insidious foe, echoed through homes turned into sanctuaries of desperation. The haunting specter of annihilation lingered, leaving shattered lives in its wake, a testament to the fragility of existence in the relentless grip of the Black Death.

Within the walls of Windenburg Castle, now sealed and guarded, none were granted entry. King Wilhelm, in a rare act of mercy, permitted his aunt, Dorthea, and two cousins, David and Richard, to seek refuge within. Accompanied by David's wife, Corrine, and their two children, Albert and Claudine, they entered the castle grounds before the doors were sealed, shutting out the menacing cries that lurked beyond. The castle became their sanctuary, safeguarded against the relentless onslaught of the Black Death that ravaged the world outside.

Amidst the shadows of the castle, King Wilhelm, David, and Richard gathered around the round table, their countenances marked by deep concern. Expressing gratitude, Richard acknowledged Wilhelm's generosity in providing refuge and began to recount the dire situation outside the castle walls. He detailed the profound suffering endured by David, whose household had succumbed to the relentless plague, compelling them to seek sanctuary within the castle's protective walls.

Family holds an immense significance for David. In 1345, he married Corrine, the youngest daughter of the late King Thomas and the now Dowager Queen Priscilla of Bagley. Corrine is also the younger sister of Queen Cordelia. Their union, marked by profound love, resulted in a strong familial bond with their children. Additionally, David's mother, Lady Dorethea, the widow of the late Prince Arthur of Windenburg and godmother to King Wilhelm, remains a cherished and vital part of their family structure.

On a fateful morning the following summer, King Wilhelm lay in the opulent confines of his bedchambers with Anne Matthews, his beloved mistress, as was his nightly routine. Unbeknownst to him, the looming horror of the black death was about to unravel. As Wilhelm awoke, the dim light filtering through heavy drapes revealed a ghastly sight, the telltale markings of the plague adorned Anne's body. Shock and terror gripped him instantly, and with a frantic urgency, he leaped from his bed, jolting Anne awake in abrupt dismay.

Wilhelm, stricken with terror, recoiled at the ghastly sight before him. Unable to bear looking directly at Anne, he pointed with dread to the markings of the plague that marred her once-vibrant skin. His voice trembled with fear as he uttered, "You're covered in the markings of the plague!" The shocking realization hit him like a relentless wave, and the gravity of the situation sank in. Fearful for his own health, knowing he had shared a bed with her, Wilhelm urgently called for his guards. In the midst of his panicked plea, Anne, overcome with terror, implored him to be reasonable, her pleas echoing in the dimly lit chamber.

With a sense of urgency, the guards burst into Wilhelm's chambers, swords drawn, catching Anne off guard. She stood momentarily frozen, the cold glint of steel sending shivers down her spine, before collapsing to her knees in a desperate plea. "Please, Wilhelm, spare me. I am so very frightened," she implored, her voice quivering with terror. Wilhelm, torn between mercy and the harsh reality of the plague, couldn't bring himself to order her immediate execution.

Instead, he directed his guards to escort her down to the dungeons of the castle. Within those dark, damp confines, nobles and staff alike languished, a haunting testament to the unyielding grip of the deadly contagion. The decision weighed heavily on Wilhelm, his actions a desperate attempt to contain the spread within the castle. Witnessing Anne's fate, Wilhelm confronted the harsh reality of the plague's rapid grasp. Fearing for his own life, he swiftly left to be bathed, his clothes and bedding consigned to the flames, a desperate attempt to purge any potential contamination.

With his mistress gone, Wilhelm, confronted with the stark reality of the abstinence he would face in the wake of this disease, summoned Cordelia to his chambers. He felt that Cordelia's presence could provide solace amid the pandemics chaos. As she reluctantly joined her estranged husband, the atmosphere grew thick with sorrow and uncertainty.

As the chilling winds of the plague swept through the land, Cordelia, existing in the shadow of profound despair that enveloped the realm, discovered the presence of new life within her. In the midst of death's unrelenting dance, the prospect of impending motherhood emerged as a luminous beacon of hope, casting its feeble light against the oppressive darkness.

As the winter of 1348 approached, the grip of the plague tightened its hold. Corrine awoke in her chambers to a harrowing sight. Her beloved husband, David, cloaked in the ominous markings of the deadly affliction. A primal scream escaped her lips, shattering the cold silence of the castle. The chilling wail reverberated through the stone walls, rousing the family from their uneasy slumber. Lady Dorthea crumpled to the floor in anguish at the sight of her son. Emotions ran high, unsettling the young children, as David sat, helpless and defeated, huddled in his bed, grappling with the cruel hand fate had dealt him.

Soon after Corrine's anguished screams pierced the air, the castle guards, accompanied by King Wilhelm, arrived at the chamber doors. With an air of trepidation, they entered the room, the heavy doors swinging open to reveal the somber scene within. The family, gripped by fear and uncertainty, stared at the intruders, their collective breaths held in suspense, awaiting the unfolding of the inevitable.

Dorthea, overcome with desperation, rushed toward King Wilhelm, her eyes pleading for mercy. The vigilant guard, wielding his sword as a stern barrier, halted her advance. She sank to her knees, tears streaming down her face, as she implored, "Please, Wilhelm, as your godmother, I beseech you. Spare my son. Remember the bond you shared with Arthur; David carries a piece of him." Wilhelm, confronted by Dorthea's tearful plea, met her gaze with an unusual expression of sorrow.

He extended a solemn promise, assuring her that David would not face execution. Instead, he would be confined to isolation, receiving care from the castle's physicians. Overwhelmed with grief, Dorthea approached Richard with tear-filled eyes, her voice silenced by the weight of despair. The knights gathered around David, whose family was enveloped in sorrow. Sobbing echoed through the chamber as the guards escorted him away, his two-year-old son, Albert, calling out for his papa in bewildered innocence, unaware of the grim reality unfolding before him.

With somber determination, the knights guided David through the echoing corridors of the castle, each step carrying the weight of impending doom. As they descended into the depths, the cold dungeons of Windenburg Castle greeted them. The air was thick with the stench of despair, and David was thrown into a bleak cell, surrounded by others afflicted by the cruel grasp of the plague. The door slammed shut, sealing him in darkness. David stood amidst the chilling silence, fear etched across his face as he confronted the grim reality of his uncertain fate, staring directly into the eyes of death itself.

#simsmedieval #royalsims #sims4 #windenburg #royal #sims #gameofthrones #thesimsmedieval #royalty #simsstory #story telling #short story #ts4 story #story #sims 4 story #original story #stories #storytime #narrative #fiction #the sims #sim legacy #royalty sims #historical sims #sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 cc #sims 4 screenshots #my sims

[glorious-sunset]

Reflections on Ep. 8 of LBFAD on rewatch

Arbiter Hall, Day 11: “Da Qiang!” Xiao Lanhua (XLH) called happily on returning to Arbiter of Fate Hall. She excitedly tells him how Changheng (CH) had praised her, refused to cancel her exam result and asked her to keep the Magical Jade Firefly stone. What a coincidence that the firefly came to Arbiter Hall – is this a sign that she and CH are meant to be together? :D

DongFang QingCang (DFQC) scowls in suspicion, slams his teacup onto the table and storms off to study the Xilan scroll for clues to what this new feeling is (it’s jealousy!). It’s the first time he has noticed his internal state not matching XLH’s feelings, but still believes his Tree of Emotions is permanently frozen. Alas, we saw in ep. 7 that his Tree had thawed, and later in this episode, it sprouts two new leaves, for romantic love and desire – feelings he had never experienced even prior to having his emotions removed. (Desire is not one of the listed seven emotions, but is associated with romantic love). He is now much more caring and sincere in all of his interactions with XLH.

Shangque (SQ) believes that since XLH is so happy, she should be able to fix Lady Chidi’s destiny leaf soon! Don’t be ridiculous SQ, DFQC says, she is not fully recovered yet, what’s the rush? He is in no hurry at all to end his blissful days by XLH’s side. :D

Enjoy this stage while you can DFQC! Once he returns to Cangyan Sea, having his emotions return to him in full force will be an inconceivably traumatic experience D: He had been a ruthless killing machine for centuries against his true sweet and caring nature, then suddenly had his compassion returned and had to deal with what he had done and his ongoing mission for revenge. Many have gone insane for far less. DFQC cannot be blamed at all for being “full of thorns” at that stage, as he describes himself in ep. 35 :(

Fountain Palace: Yulin, also plagued by jealousy, had stolen XLH’s Firefly stone and her crime is discovered by Danyin. Taken to Yunzhong’s (YZ) court, she refuses to admit the theft and clings to a far more dangerous story that CH had gifted it to her. But that would mean that CH had betrayed his engagement to the Goddess, so she is sentenced to the most terrible punishment an immortal could be subjected to - removal of her immortal bones. Far worse than an execution, it means she will not ever be able to reincarnate again. This is a chilling warning to CH to never dishonour his engagement, or else…

A tortured CH imagines what would happen if XLH came to work at Fountain Palace, as is her right and her long-standing dream. He doubts he could stop himself from seeking her out every day, speaking tender words to her, betraying his heart…YZ had spies everywhere – she would inevitably end up with her immortal bones removed too! D: He could never forgive himself for putting her in danger, and so, eliminates only XLH’s name from the list of new staff at Fountain Palace. And after he’d gone to so much effort to find and catch the firefly for her and deliver it to Arbiter Hall! He gazes at the orchid flower XLH had given him (soon it will be DFQC’s turn to do this in ep. 19 :D ).

Yujing, Day 12: To her disbelief, XLH is told by Lady Sansheng that CH did not accept her to Fountain Palace. An invisible CH watches as against all her expectations, her one and only dream is shattered to pieces.

Arbiter Hall: XLH discovers that the Firefly stone is also gone, replaced by an ordinary rock. She looks dazedly to DFQC for answers and he caringly complies with her query by carrying her up to Yunzhong Water Pavillion (their usual sunbathing spot!). What impeccable timing, as YZ is just now grilling CH on why he eliminated the remarkable fairy who used herself as bait to save everyone, from the Fountain Palace list. Didn’t CH praise her and say that she was “brave, intelligent, pure and kind?” (How does YZ know this? CH was right that he has spies on him everywhere!) CH uses the same arguments that XLH had presented to him when she tried to cancel her exam result! Her immortal roots are damaged, she is weak, she came from the mortal realm and doesn’t deserve the honour. YZ’s secret smile and headshake make it clear that he has seen through CH’s story. Nevertheless, YZ is pleased that CH has let go of his secret crush and is honouring his engagement.

Back at Arbiter Hall, XLH nurses her broken dreams and heartbreak at CH’s cruel words but tries to be strong. With her weak power, she should be happy that she passed the examination at all, so she says she will ask Peach to perform the celebration of scattering flowers. (DFQC takes careful note of this, and creates a scattering of peach blossom petals for her banquet in ep. 13! :D ) Sacrificing his own comfort for XLH’s well-being, DFQC tells her to cry and release her pain. “CH is blind” he says, his fury at the God of War ever increasing as he feels XLH’s grief and tears stream down his own face due to the Xilan curse. “Do you look down on me Da Qiang?” she asks anxiously. “To benzuo, you are as precious as my life” he replies, his voice husky with emotion and sincerity! In ep. 7, he resentfully said “Your life is as important to me as my own life”. This time, there is no resentment, and it is she herself, not just her life, that is precious to him. Not because of the one-heart curse, but because he genuinely cares for her!

DFQC roughly brushes a tear from XLH’s cheek and we see that the greenhouse flowers are in bloom! They are linked to XLH’s mood, so despite CH smashing her dreams, DFQC’s efforts to comfort her have had a far greater impact, and she is now happy.

But their tender exchange is interrupted by CH, who has arrived with ten soldiers to search Arbiter Hall for criminals. DFQC’s hatred for CH, who had hurt his Xiao Hua Yao leads to him preparing to attack rather than concealing himself with invisibility. XLH is alarmed! What is Da Qiang doing?! He can’t stand against the God of War and ten Heavenly soldiers! Although both of the men she cares about are there, her only thought is of saving DFQC. She protectively wraps her arms around him and topples them over the edge of Arbiter Hall. Our white-clad fairy and black-clad devil clasped tightly in her embrace fall a great distance into the Oblivion River (such a beautiful scene!).

And, they are both enjoying this close contact very much, as DFQC’s eyes close in pleasure, and XLH continues to hold him for quite a long time after they are in the water. When she finally realises she doesn’t need to and lets go, he is sad, again feeling like an unlovable beast that everyone avoids. Unfortunately, CH’s search of Arbiter Hall is quite long and thorough. XLH’s magic exhausted, the air bubble she had created around them bursts and she is drowning. Her demise would also mean the demise of DFQC, and he has several options available to him to save her. Should he recreate the large air bubble around them? Teleport them out of the water and conceal them with invisibility? Or fly them somewhere else entirely?

Another idea makes him hesitate, but in the end, he can’t resist the urge to claim her lips to provide her with life-saving air. XLH opens her eyes to find Da Qiang’s mouth fastened to hers and his hooded gaze upon her. Her heart races, and her first thought is of how wonderful it feels. She had wondered what it would feel like to kiss Da Qiang again, now that he had claimed her heart. His lips are soft and warm against hers, and his breath cools her burning lungs.

But as she remembers that CH is searching for him and kissing him is a bad idea, she pulls away, to his annoyance. Did she forget that she was drowning?! XLH realises she has no choice and gives in. It might be their last chance to express their feelings and release the tension between them. She continues to kiss DFQC as he breathes air into her lungs for many heated minutes until he is absolutely sure that CH is gone! :D This is a nice parallel to their first kiss in ep. 1, which DFQC had instigated to draw life-giving energy from her. This time, he is the one providing life to her through their kiss. It is also, in an unorthodox way, their first romantic kiss.

They are hyperaware of each other afterwards and XLH decides to go to Shuyu Forest to get some air and recover her dazed senses. As a similarly dazed DFQC touches his lips in wonder with trembling fingers, two new leaves sprout on his Tree of Emotions for romantic love and desire.

DFQC sits having tea and pondering why didn’t he just kill CH after all? He didn’t have to go along with XLH’s crazy plan. It would have been in the interests of the Moon Tribe to eliminate the God of War while he was separated from the rest of the Heavenly High Council and leave no witnesses. Unknowingly, this is the first of many times that DFQC has put his feelings for XLH higher in his priorities than his perceived responsibility towards the Moon Tribe.

But he is soon distracted by the Tianji mirror revealing to him a vision of XLH’s wedding to CH by the Oblivion River. He does not see the mortal realm wedding, as only the Oblivion River wedding requires his intervention. As Siming says in ep. 32, those who see a prophecy can bring it about (how ironic, as the last thing DFQC would want is to bring about XLH’s wedding to CH). This new crushing sensation in his chest is far worse than any other feeling he has ever felt.

Shuyu Forest: How XLH feels about her very prolonged make-out session with DFQC is clear from the way she is giggling and skipping through the forest while twirling her skirts. :D But Danyin bursts her bubble by informing her that a member of the Moon Tribe who escaped from Haotian Tower is still on the loose. XLH finally puts two and two together. Da Qiang’s surname is Dongfang…a surname known to belong to the Moon Tribe, and the missing prisoner is Moon Tribe. This is good…he can return to his people and escape from Shuiyuntian.

Arbiter Hall: DFQC is suspicious of the wine XLH offers him for the wrong reasons - Siming has some of the best wine in the three realms, wouldn’t she be angry that they were using it up? But he drinks it. Inconceivable! The mightiest being in the three realms is weak to sedatives?! Lucky that XLH has magic to help her move the Moon Supreme’s tall and sturdy body all the way down to the Oblivion River (I wonder where she got the boat from).

Oblivion River: As DFQC wakes from his stupor in a boat on the Oblivion River, XLH asks him to return to his people at Cangyan Sea and never return to Shuiyuntian, where he will be in danger. She doesn’t care about the risk to her own life for helping him. As she softly says “I’ll miss you”, through the one-heart curse he feels her overwhelming sadness and affection for him. He is very touched by her loyalty to him. She flies away, leaving him to eat her flower cakes thoughtfully.

Here is a link back to my episode 1 review (contains spoilers). More reviews to follow. All of my LBFAD articles and episode reviews can be viewed with the tag #lbfad reflections (hyperlinked) and the table of contents to these is here.

#love between fairy and devil #lbfad #lbfd #cang lan jue #canglan jue #clj #dongfang qingcang #dfqc #xiao lanhua #xlh #cdrama #lbfad meta #dylan wang #wang hedi #yu shuxin #esther yu #lbfad reflections