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gardenschedule · 1 month

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Paul hurting John

And any mention of Paul brought a wintry bleakness to her face. 'John always used to say,' [Yoko] told me at one point, 'that no one ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him.' The words suggested a far deeper emotional attachment between the two than the world had ever suspected---they were like those of a spurned lover---and I naturally included them in my account of my visit for the Sunday Times. After it appeared, I returned to my London flat one evening to be told by my then girlfriend, ‘Paul, phoned you.’ She said he wanted to know what Yoko had meant and that he’d seemed upset rather than angry.

Paul McCartney: The Life - Philip Norman.

Paul McCartney, John’s partner into songwriting history, provokes a bleak and bitter look. “John said that no one ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him. But it’s in the past. It’s gone.” “John used to say he’d had two great partnerships. One was with Paul McCartney, the other was with Yoko Ono. ‘And I discovered both of them,’ he used to say. ‘Not bad going, is it?’”

Yoko Ono, interview w/ Philip Norman for Sunday Times: Life after John. (May 25th, 1981)

KLEIN: I can only tell you what John said when I asked him who he would call among the Beatles if he was in trouble—you know, if he had a real problem. He said he’d call George. That surprised me. Then I asked him if he’d ever been really close with Paul and he said no. Not that he didn’t love him; he did. He just said every time he let his guard down, McCartney hurt him. VETTER: Did he say how? KLEIN: Not specifically. But you know, it’s the kind of hurt where you open up to someone, really reach out, and then they’re just not there. A couple of times I thought Paul and I really had something going and then the next day, it was like it all just slipped away.

Allen Klein, Playboy: A candid conversation with the embattled manager of the Beatles. (November, 1971)

“I don’t have any friends!” John reminded me. “Friendship is a romantic illusion!” He said that he had learned this the hard way after the breakup of his relationship with Paul McCartney, whom he had once regarded as his close friend.

Fred Seaman, The Last Days of John Lennon. (1991)

HARTMAN: Paul, there’s a new interview out that John – you mentioned John a while ago – and he talks very openly. Without going into details, he seems to have a lot of resentment, competition, with you. And he says you kind of died creatively in a way, and he didn’t keep track of you, he said ‘The Long And Winding Road’ was your last gasp… How – he seems resentful of you. Do you know why, or—? PAUL: [uncomfortable] Um… I don’t know, I can guess and stuff, you know, but I’ll tell you, after all of that stuff has sort of gone down over the years, I actually keep a bit quiet now, ’cause anything I say, he gets resentful of. So I don’t know really, I mean, uh… it’s just a weird one. I don’t quite know why he thinks like that. I mean, what do you do about that? I – I really just shut up these days. I think it’s the best policy, David.

Paul’s Good Morning America interview

“No one ever goes on about the times John hurt ME,” said Paul. “When he called my music Muzak. People keep on saying I hurt him, but where’s the examples, when did I do it? No one ever says. It’s just always the same, blaming me. Could I have hurt John MORE than anyone in the world? More than the person who ran down Julia in his car? “We were always in competition. I wrote “Penny Lane,” so he wrote “Strawberry Fields.” That was how it was. But that was in compositions. I can’t understand why Yoko is saying this. The last time I spoke to her she was great. She told me she and John had just been playing one of my albums and had cried.”

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

I always felt guilty. Always felt guilty. But looking back on it, I keep thinking, okay, let’s try and analyse this. Now John was hurt; what was he hurt by? What was the single biggest thing that we can find in all our research that hurt John? And the biggest thing that I can find is that I told the world that the Beatles were finished. And I don’t think that’s so hurtful. […] I look at it now and really kind of shudder. At the time it was me trying to answer some questions that were being asked and I decided to not fudge that question. And I say, looking back on it, I don’t think… I mean, if that’s the most hurtful thing I did, I haven’t really heard much else beyond that.

...

And I say, looking back on it, I don’t think... I mean, if that’s the most hurtful thing I did, I haven’t really heard much else beyond that. We didn’t accept Yoko totally, but like I say, how many groups do you know, these days [who would]? I mean, it’s a joke. It’s like Spinal Tap! I mean, it’s Spinal Tap! A joke!

Paul McCartney, interviewed by Chris Salewicz for Musician (October 1986).

John had made it clear that he wanted to be the one to announce the split,' Linda McCartney explained years later, 'since it was his idea.' 'He wanted to be first,' her husband confirmed. 'But I didn't realise it would hurt him that much or that it mattered who was first.' Lennon commented later, 'We were all hurt that he didn't tell us what he was going to do. I think he claims that he didn't mean that to happen, but that's bullshit.' Envy also entered the equation. 'I was cursing because I hadn't done it. I wanted to do it and I should have done it...I was a fool not to do what Paul did, which is use it to sell a record.'

You Never Give Me Your Money – Peter Doggett

At first we agreed not to announce it. But after three or four months, I got more and more guilty about people saying, “How’s the group going?” when we sort of knew it was probably split up. So I did a kind of dumb move in the end, and when I look back on it, it was really… It looks very hard and cold. But I was releasing the McCartney album, and I didn’t really want to do much press for it; so I told a guy from the office to do me a list of questions and I’ll write the answers and we’ll print it up as a pamphlet and just stick it in with the press copies of the album. The questions were quite pointed, and it ended up being like me announcing that the Beatles had broken up. John got quite mad about that, apparently – this is one of the things he said really hurt him and cut him to the quick. Personally I don’t think it was such a bad thing to announce to the world after four months that we’d broken up. It had to come out some time. I think maybe the manner of doing it, I regret now – I wish it had been a little kinder, or with the others’ approval. But I felt it was time.

Paul McCartney, Rolling Stone: The Rolling Stone interview – Paul McCartney. (September 11th, 1986)

JOHN: And then as I said in [Rolling] Stone, both Klein and Paul at that time said, “Well, you don’t have to tell everybody, do you? You don’t have to announce it.” And I said, “Okay. Well, I won’t announce it then.” And then a year later, Paul announced it, right? [laughs; bleak] Good ol’… That was a great trick, you know. Because maybe that’s how when he – [very quiet] He felt that’s how he had to do it. So.

January 1st, 1976 (Dakota, New York)

JOHN: Well, I mean, like – like with anybody, when you say “divorce”, you know, the face goes… all sorts of colours. It’s like he knew, really, that this was the final thing. And then six months later, he comes out with – whatever, you know. I told [British journalist] Ray Connolly, and there was a lot of people knew I’d left, but I was a fool not to do it, you know. Not to do what Paul did, which was use it to sell a record. WENNER: You were really angry with Paul. JOHN: No, I wasn’t angry. WENNER: But when he came out with his— JOHN: No, I wasn’t angry, I was just – “Shit!” You know? I mean, he’s a good PR man, Paul. He – he’s about the best in the world, probably. He really does a job. I wasn’t angry in that way.

December 8th, 1970 (New York): Rolling Stone

"Yet even [John's resentment over Paul announcing the breakup first] does not explain his later remark to Yoko that no one had ever hurt him the way Paul hurt him. It almost suggests that, deep beneath the schoolboy friendship and the complementary musical brilliance, lay some streak of homosexual adoration that John himself never realised. He might have longed to get away from Paul, but he could never quite get over him."

Philip Norman, Shout!, 1981

John would say things like, ‘It was rubbish. The Beatles were crap.’ Also, ‘I don’t believe in The Beatles, I don’t believe in Jesus, I don’t believe in God.’ Those were quite hurtful barbs to be flinging around, and I was the person they were being flung at, and it hurt. So, I’m having to read all this stuff, and on the one hand I’m thinking, ‘Oh fuck off, you fucking idiot,’ but on the other hand I’m thinking, ‘Why would you say that? Are you annoyed at me or are you jealous or what?’ And thinking back fifty years later, I still wonder how he must have felt. He’d gone through a lot. His dad disappeared, and then he lost his Uncle George, who was a father figure; his mother; Stuart Sutcliffe; Brian Epstein, another father figure; and now his band. But John had all of those emotions wrapped up in a ball of Lennon. That’s who he was. That was the fascination.

I tried. I was sort of answering him here, asking, ‘Does it need to be this hurtful?’ I think this is a good line: ‘Are you afraid, or is it true?’ – meaning, ‘Why is this argument going on? Is it because you’re afraid of something? Are you afraid of the split-up? Are you afraid of my doing something without you? Are you afraid of the consequences of your actions?’ And the little rhyme, ‘Or is it true?’ Are all these hurtful allegations true? This song came out in that kind of mood. It could have been called ‘What the Fuck, Man?’ but I’m not sure we could have gotten away with that then.

Paul McCartney, on “Dear Friend”. In The Lyrics (2021).

PAUL: He was hurt. He later explained it by saying that I’d hurt him over some things, and it was kind of bitchy. Um… you know. He just had to do that. It’s fine. And at the time I thought, well, I should really answer all of this, but I took – I thought, no, it’s really going to get crazy if I start answering him and then we’re gonna be talking through newspapers at each other and really bitching, you know. And I decided to not do that.

October 19th, 1984: Paul McCartney talks to Barbara Frum of CBC-TV’s The Journal

"The truth is, deep down they were very, very similar indeed. Each had a soft underbelly, each was very much hurt by certain things. John had a very soft inside to him. But, you see, each had a bitter turn of phrase and could be quite nasty to the other. It was like a tug of war. Imagine two people pulling on a rope, smiling at each other and pulling all the time with all their might. The tension between the two of them made for the bond."

George Martin – Bill Harry, The Paul McCartney Encyclopedia, 2003)

JOHN: [Paul] even recorded that all by himself in the other room, that’s how it was getting in those days. We came in and he’d – he’d made the whole record. Him drumming, him playing the piano, him singing. Just because – it was getting to be where he wanted to do it like that, but he couldn’t – couldn’t – maybe he couldn’t make the break from The Beatles, I don’t know what it was. But you know, I enjoyed the track. But we’re all, I’m sure – I can’t speak for George, but I was always hurt when he’d knock something off without… involving us, you know? But that’s just the way it was then.

August, 1980: interview with Playboy writer David Sheff

‘There’s only one incident I can think of which John has publicly mentioned. It was when I went off with Ringo and did “Why Don’t We Do It In the Road?” It wasn’t a deliberate thing. John and George were tied up finishing something and me and Ringo were free, just hanging around, so I said to Ringo let’s go and do this. “I did hear him some time later singing it. He liked the song and I suppose he’d wanted to do it with me. It was a very John sort of song anyway. That’s why he liked it, I suppose. It was very John, the idea of it, not me. I wrote it as a ricochet off John. “Perhaps I hurt people by default. I never realized at the time John would mind.

...

“I’ve never come back at him, not at all, but I can’t help hide my anger about all the things he said at the time, about the Muzak, about me singing like Englebert Humperdink….. “If I had to start listing all the times when HE hurt me. Doing that one little song on my own, compared with what he said about ME…. “When you think about it, I’ve done nothing really to him, compared with that. Anyway, he did the same with “Revolution 9″. He went off and made that without me. No one ever says all that. John is now the nice guy and I’m the bastard. It gets repeated all the time.”

Paul and Hunter Davies, 1981

ROBBINS: When are you going to be doing another tour? Do you know? JOHN: No idea. I know we’ve got music to write, as soon as we get back. And Paul’s just signed us up to write the music for a film [The Family Way]. So I suppose it’s off the plane and into bed and – knock knock knock, “Get up and write some songs.” ROBBINS: A film that’s not your own? JOHN: Yes. ROBBINS: Very exciting.

John Lennon, interview w/ Fred Robbins. (October 29th, 1966)

“The healthy partnership and camaraderie that evolved from Paul and John’s competitive streak was only one step away from sibling rivalry. It now transpires that one of John’s earliest ‘hurts’ inflicted by Paul was McCartney’s solo writing of the music for the Hayley Mills film The Family Way in 1966. ‘I was told recently by Yoko that one of the things that hurt John over the years was me going off and doing The Family Way,’ Paul says. The filmmaking Boulting brothers had approached him via George Martin. ‘I thought this was a great opportunity. We were all free to do stuff outside the Beatles and we’d each done various little things.’When he mentioned it to John, Paul said, ‘He would have had his suit of armour on and said: “No, I don’t mind.” However, my reasoning would be that at exactly the same time he went off to make a film. He wrote his books. It was in the spirit of all that. But what I didn’t realize was that this was the first time one of us had done it on songs. John would write a book and I was supposed not to be jealous, which I wasn’t. He acted in a film [How I Won the War]. But I didn’t realize he made a distinction between all those solo things and actually writing music because this was the first time one of us had done it in film scoring. I suppose what I should have said was: “I’d like to write it with John,” and then that would have been OK. It actually didn’t occur to me at that time at all. So I went off, saw and liked the film, said: “Right, come on George [Martin],” and I must say it was all over very quickly.’

Paul McCartney, c/o Ray Coleman, McCartney: Yesterday and Today. (1995)

JOHN: ‘Rigby’’s, um, his first verse, and the rest of the verses are basically mine. But the way he did it was – uh, was he had the song, and he knew he’d got the song. So rather than ask me, “John, do these lyrics—” Because by that period, he didn’t want to say that – to me. Okay? So what he would say was, “Hey, you guys, finish off the lyrics,” while he was sort of fiddling around with the track or something, or – or arranging it, in the other part of the giant studio in EMI. ... But that’s how it – [Paul] just sort of— ‘Cause that’s the kind of insensitivity he would have – which made me upset in the later years – because to him, that meant nothing. But that’s the kind of person he is. So he threw ‘em out and said, “Here, finish these up,” like – to anybody, who was around. [By saying that] actually he meant I was to do it, but – you know, Neil and Mal were sitting there, and…

August, 1980: interview with Playboy writer David Sheff

"As mild and oblique as the comment was [Paul's "You took your lucky break and broke it in two" line from "Too Many People"], it seemed to cut John to the heart. On top of the questionnaire inside the McCartney album and the lawsuit, it was like the tipping point between a divorcing couple that turns love into savage, no-holds-barred hostility. Indeed, John's wounded anger was more that of an ex-spouse than ex-colleague, reinforcing a suspicion already in Yoko's mind that his feelings for Paul had been far more intense than the world at large ever guessed. From chance remarks he had made, she gathered there had even been a moment where - on the principle that bohemians should try everything - he had contemplated an affair with Paul, but had been deterred by Paul's immovable heterosexuality.

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The Life, 2008

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #the most interesting aspect of this whole thing is paul's sincere bewilderment over how he hurt john #all evidence points to: literally anything that resulted in them being distant musically and personally #and people still think john was desperate for that divorce...?

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rosepascal · 11 months

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A Wound That Never Heals || Joel Miller x Reader

summary: For the last twenty years you believed your parents to be dead. But after stumbling upon Jackson with Joel and Ellie you come to discover that's not true at all.

warnings: heavy angst, heavy themes of child abandonment, unresolved family issues. Readers got some trauma y'all. Bad parents.

a/n: This is an interesting fic for me. I wrote this as a way to vent my anger/sadness I feel towards my birth parents. The circumstances are different compared to this fic though because my parents abandoned me because of the one child policy in China. It's hard to think about sometimes but I just want to say that I do love my family. As far as I'm concerned the only family I have are the ones who have been in my life for the past 21 years. Plus my bio sister <33 Please note I do not speak for every child who has been abandoned/adopted and this is just my personal feelings about it

Twenty years. For twenty fucking years. You thought your parents were dead. That the outbreak had killed them or FEDRA did or something took them from you. That’s what you told people.

That they died, they were forced to leave you. Forced to give you away and abandon you in this god awful QZ. You were only a child. Put in shit school full of kids who were just like you.

At nights, when you laid in your uncomfortable cot with a thin blanket, you thought about them. Missed them. Wished you could be with them instead of here. You cried and cried your heart out when you were alone.

A child wasn’t built for an apocalypse.

Now you’re older. You’re not a kid anymore. You’re an adult now who has lived through years and years of horror. Everything you’ve done has been to survive. Including partnering up with Joel Miller. You met him only a few years ago but you had heard his name whispered among the QZ for a long time.

Mostly in fear. He was a man who got what he wanted and didn’t really give a shit if he pissed people off in the process. When you finally crossed paths with the man it was clear that you wanted to stay on his good side.

You don’t know why Joel let you into his smuggling ring. Maybe he felt bad or maybe it was his other partner Tess who convinced him. You were smart, tough, and quick on your feet. To them you were an asset. To you, they were protection. Mutually beneficial.

Tess was easier to get along with while Joel, well you and Joel’s partnership turned into…well it’s a little complicated. Putting a label on it isn’t easy. All you know is that he keeps your bed warm at night and kisses you in the morning.

For the last three-ish months, it's hard to keep track, you’ve been traveling across the country with a girl named Ellie. Marlene from the fireflies roped the three of you into her rebellion mess. At this point you aren’t even sure why Joel is still going. With Tess gone it’s just the two of you. He had known her longer than he had known you so you really didn’t know what to say to him afterwards. Tess was family to him.

You could only hope he feels that way about you too. Would he? Would he go across the country, dealing with clickers and raiders for your dying wish? Would he risk everything for you? Like he’s doing for his brother. His flesh and blood. It’s Tommy that he had been searching for, it’s Tommy that is his real family.

It’s Tommy that he finds in Jackson as you ride in on horses.

You’ve never seen Joel react with so much emotion when he sees his brother. The way he hugs him, you can't look away. Silently wishing that it could be you. Reuniting with someone who cares so much about you that they never stopped searching for you.

Looking over at Ellie you smile to try and get her to smile too, seeing that same look written on her face. Ellie never had a family but you know Joel and you mean more to her than she lets on. You zone out as you eat, their conversation fading in the background as you look around the cafeteria.

All these people have been here for who knows how long. You understand why Jackson could never promote themselves to the world. But still. There’s a selfish part of you that’s jealous of just how happy everyone seems. Kids get to experience a nice bed and warm food. But it’s not their fault that you didn’t.

So you bury that inside as you thank Maria for letting the three of you in. They talk and you listen, Joel and Ellie are shoveling down the food. Not that you blame them, it's been so long since you’ve had a nice home cooked meal. For some reason though you don’t. Picking at it with your fork and eating slowly. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Joel who shoots you a look. Waving him off you continue to eat.

Then following them as Maria and Tommy give you a tour of the town. It’s pretty overwhelming to be honest. People pass by you and there’s just so much noise coming at you at once. Your eyes scan a crowd of people who surround the big tree in the middle of the town. You stop. Stop moving, stop breathing for a moment. Just stop. By the tree are two people, giving out small gifts to the kids. It’s not them. It can’t be them. They’re dead, they were killed.

They..They look like your parents.

It’s been twenty years since you’ve seen them. So it can’t be them right? People change over that much time. It can’t be them because that means they’re alive. That they’ve been alive this whole fucking time. While you were stuck alone in some fucked up QZ they had been alive. A hand grabs your wrist, pulling you from your spiral.

“You alright?” Joel asks. You shake your head and pull your hand away from his.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Joel watches you walk off.

A frown on his face as he sees the turmoil brewing in your head and not knowing what he can do to help. When Joel goes off with Tommy and Ellie with Maria you’re left to wander alone. Quietly you walk through the town. Choosing to sit on an empty bench to just watch.

“You alright dear?”

It’s dark when Joel comes back. Ellie’s asleep, safe and sound in her bed. He sighs in relief as he stays in her doorway for a few moments. Just to be sure. The light down the hall is still on though. Quietly he walks down, looking in the room to find you sitting on the bed. Staring at the wall. Joel doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t know what you need.

“I found them.” You say suddenly. He doesn’t react beyond stepping closer.

“Found who?” Looking over at him you smile half heartedly.

“My parents.” Closing your eyes you feel tears building up in your eyes. No matter how hard you shut them the feeling won’t go away.

Joel freezes.

Backstories weren't really his thing, he didn't like telling others much about before the outbreak and frankly he didn't care to listen to other peoples. But with you he did listen. He let you talk about them, a sadness in your voice that he recognized so clearly. That gut punch he gets when he thinks of Sarah.

“They’re alive,” You laugh and it scares Joel a little bit. Standing up you start to pace back and forth.

“They’re alive Joel! Isn’t that great! All this fucking time they’ve been alive!” You shout loudly. Kicking a nearby dresser in your rage. The air becomes uncomfortably silent as your chest rises and falls quickly.

“I thought I was crazy you know, some fucked up shit in my head making me see them but nope. They’re here. They’ve been here for years.” You shrug and laugh again. Joel purses his lips and gently starts to walk over to you.

“My mom, she came up to me today. Asked if I was okay.” Clenching your fists so hard that your knuckles turn white.

The anger, the frustration, the sadness, the hatred. It’s building and building. Waiting to burst out in a tidal flood of fucked up feelings. Joel's hand rests on your shoulder squeezing it ever so slightly. You burst.

Slamming your hand hard against the dresser you push his hand off and grab one of the perfectly placed pillows and scream loudly into it. You fall onto the bed, burying your face in your hands as the tears start.

Big fat ugly tears streaming down your face, coupled with quiet sobs. Your body shakes as you cry and cry and cry your fucking heart out.

“She didn’t recognize me.” You choke out.

“She looked me in the eyes and there was nothing.” The harder you cry the harder it becomes to breathe.

It hurts so bad, the pain that’s been building for twenty years has finally been released. It's cathartic to be honest. It’s been so long since you’ve cried or even let yourself feel any emotions.

“How could they just forget about me? H-How could they not come back?” You ask, your voice broken as you reach for Joel who opens his arms for you.

Joel never meant to get attached to you. He protected his heart for years and even now it's strange. He’s not good at this. He can’t offer you words of advice or any real comfort.

All he knows is that he’s furious for you. Not a day goes by that he doesn’t think about his daughter and to know that you parents would just. Leave you, abandon you like that. It lights a fire in him unlike anything he’s felt in a long time.

He'd do anything for five more minutes with Sarah. To hear her laugh one more time. Yet your parents left and never looked back.

“How could they leave their kid alone and afraid for so long?” You fists grip his flannel shirt tightly.

He’s becoming the only thing grounding you to the world as you become lost in your own self doubt. There’s a million questions that run through your head.

Did they think about you?

Did they remember you?

Each question swirling around and around until it feels like it's sucking you into a deep dark hole that you can never come back from. There’s nothing but darkness surrounding you. It feels like you’re that scared little kid again. Crying out for their parents but this time you know they didn’t want you anymore.

Joel's arms wrap tightly around you. One of his hands rests on the back of your head, pushing you as close as you can get to him. Until you’re practically in his lap, crying into his chest. Joel exudes an overwhelmingly comfortable feeling in this moment. He stays silent as he lets you cry, letting you get it all out until you’re satisfied.

A slow pounding in your head starts to form as the tears stop. The hurt still lingers in your heart as you rest your forehead against Joel's chest.

“What do I do now?” Your voice is hoarse from the crying. You hate it. It makes you feel weak inside.

“I don’t know baby but I know you’ll figure it out.” Joel rubs your back.

“I know it’s not much but, your parents didn’t make you into who you are now, you did.”

“You…” Joel trails off, unsure of how to word how he feels.

“I wouldn’t’ve wanted anyone else by my side.” He says slowly.

For the first time tonight you smile a real smile. He presses his lips against your forehead. A way to tell you he’s there even if he can’t with his words. The hurt is never going to go away. At least not for a long, long time.

But Joel’s right. You don’t need them anymore. You never needed them. Your family, your true family, is right here. Holding you in his arms and peacefully sleeping down the hall.

As far as you’re concerned, they’re the only family you need.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction

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gotylocks · 10 months

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Willow Month 2023: Day 2- Favorite Relationship

If you read my day 1 entry, this will be similarly unsurprising. Obviously Kit and Jade are my favorite relationship on the show. From the first moment Jade flicked her eyes down to Kit's lips, I knew I was going to ship them regardless if it was canon or not.

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long to have my feelings confirmed by the show itself. I adored how their relationship was built. The foundation of inseparable best friends ("For Kit and only Kit", "I can't do this without you") gives way effortlessly to the clear, overwhelming, yet buried love and desire they have for each other.

One of the most fascinating things about them is while most stories (especially mainstream) will build both romantic and sexual tension in a queer relationships by keeping them apart. Willow really said "What if the tension comes from them kissing immediately and then not being able to unpack that till way later?" It makes their every interaction have this hidden weight to it, whether they're just joking around around the rest of the crew (almost trying to pretend they're "just good friends" so nobody suspects anything, which Boorman clocked day 1) or they're having an argument as if having that tension bottled up is rippling and causing easy discussions to be fights (specifically thinking about the Wildwood).

For Kit's brashness and bad attitude with everyone else, when it comes to Jade, she acts so differently. Where she holds grudges a lot, Jade admitting she had been lying to her about training results in Kit pouting, sure, but in the immediate aftermath of the Battle of the Slaughtered Lamb it's like she has already processed it. Instead, she is in full "Comfort Jade" mode, which continues into Nockmaar.

Jade's statement "Who protects Kit? I do." in the finale hits me so hard because it doesn't come off as Kit is a damsel always needed to be saved. Instead, it has the feeling of "She is my partner and we need each other. We keep each other safe. We look out for each other." When they're separated, they're capable, but they're better together. They're better together because they push each other to be better after the training lie is revealed. There are so many moments where they deal with the exact baggage they need to in order to be in a romantic relationship together.

This can be individual baggage like Kit's anxiety about her connection to Bavmorda or Jade's discovery of her heritage; or it can be shared baggage like learning Kit's dad killed Jade's. At each step, they go through these huge moments that could have massive ramifications in their lives, they deal with them, and they look at each other like "As long as we're together, we can get through anything."

I also think about how at no point does Kit lash out at Jade for pulling her away from her father, as all of that anger is directed at Elora (despite Jade being the one that physically restrained and removed her from the Tomb). This ties back into that feeling that they protect each other. She doesn't blame Jade because she's her partner, she had no choice but to protect her, whereas Elora had no responsibility to save her, which also is a big moment that sets up their connection later (but that's another essay).

The trust Jade shows Kit at the end of episode 7 ("I think you're going to make that decision on your own") hits me so hard because it is this clear feeling of growth on both their parts. It's Jade taking her hands off the wheel and making it more of an equal partnership between them, where up to now, she's often had to be the voice of reason to rein in Kit's poor decision making.

"When you love someone, and they need you, yes, you jump off the edge of the world to go and get them."

I've made the joke that Kit and Jade made me believe in love again, but it's true. Their connection, support, friendship, deep attraction, and overwhelming love for each other felt so vivid, so real, so beautiful, there are painfully few relationships that live in my heart and mind like Kit and Jade.

Oh and they had the two most intimate and beautiful kiss scenes I've seen in ages, if not ever.

#willowmonth2023 #willow 2022 #kit tanthalos #jade claymore #tanthamore #kit x jade #ruby cruz #erin kellyman

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utilitycaster · 4 months

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I’ve always been very interested in what you think about Caleb and Veth’s relationship. They’re not romantic, but not platonic, but not familial, but at the same time they are, but it’s different? I’m rambling. I find their relationship very interesting and I wanted to see what your take was on them :)

Also have a good day if you’re not having one already and if you are, have an even greater day

Hi anon, thanks! I assume you are asking specifically for my take but I follow a lot of people who have like, 20 times more thoughts on them than I do so I feel a little ill-equipped.

With that said: I personally did not seriously ship it romantically, but that was purely a matter of what I'm specifically into. I do think that a romantic reading of their relationship is an extremely valid one and there was, undeniably, a romantic element, which is why it's not clearly platonic. It reads as familial but in my opinion it is genuinely a relationship that only makes sense within a found family framework, ie, while early on Veth attempts to frame it as a mother and child, it really isn't that, either; that's just how she can best put what they are to each other into words because more apt ones don't exist. They care about each other and they care for each other and they did so at a time when each of them thought they had no future, even before they could admit that's what they were doing. I think that's the best way to describe it.

Something that has struck me - and that is one of the things I want to keep an eye out for when I finally one day have time to rewatch Campaign 2 - is how despite their relationship being one of convenience and coincidence (ended up in jail together, broke out, found it easier to travel together) and some degree of self-interest (Caleb benefited from having someone who could steal and who would remind him to take care of himself; Veth benefited from someone who wouldn't be chased out of shops and was interested in what a wizard could do for her; both did better with a partner for scams) it still lasted for months with no plans of separating. It didn't matter that Caleb wasn't telling Veth most of his past nor Veth telling him hers - or even her real name. They were lonely and it was better to travel with someone else, and they felt better for doing so, even if they told themselves (not even incorrectly) that it was purely a pragmatic matter.

My favorite early scenes between them are first, Caleb asking Veth if she'll leave with him should his reveal of his past to Beau go badly; and secondly and more importantly Veth saying she loves the rest of the party and that this isn't just pragmatism that's leading them to rescue the others. She's talking about the kidnapped party members; but again, because Veth and Caleb have never really defined what they have as anything but a partnership of convenience it feels like she is obliquely telling him how she feels as well.

I also of course love their scene in Felderwin - when Sam goes fully serious it's nearly always going to be a great time, and Veth's anger and drunken accusation and Caleb's intense guilt is a highlight, as is the way they are both able to move past it soon after due to the strength of their relationship.

I also think Liam and Sam did a fantastic job of laying the groundwork. Everyone did so beautifully for their Mighty Nein characters but I think Veth and Caleb's uneasy six months together feels incredibly vivid and real and are a standout among the pre-existing relationships. That might just be because Fjord and Jester had only been traveling together for a very brief amount of time, and because between Molly's death and Yasha not being around much we couldn't see as much of their friendship, but I still think about the list of grifts Caleb and Nott had together and how they were still running them mid-campaign. It was a level of work I think all players should aspire to when playing characters who knew each other in advance. There need to be inside jokes and a history and plans they've made together to breathe life into a pre-existing relationship that's more than a month long (give or take), otherwise it will fall flat and feel forced.

I think this focuses pretty heavily on their earlier relationship and that's because as time goes on they build stronger relationships with the rest of the party and develop a bit more distance. I think this is healthy! Again, a lot of their relationship - particularly on Caleb's side - came from a belief that this was the best they could hope for, and so it necessarily evolves, particularly once Veth and Yeza are reunited. I think Xhorhas/Angel of Irons arc Caleb isn't sure how to approach the relationship for a while until he finds a means of giving Veth her body back; Caleb is always someone who shows affection more through action than words. But I think that even as they build separate lives, Veth returning to a renewed version of the one she thought she lost and Caleb making something entirely different, they still mean a lot to each other and later in the campaign they are able to adjust and adapt their relationship with each other as well.

#answered #Anonymous #no one has ever blurred the platonic/romantic line like them thus far #like while that tends not to be my personal bag for romance (I tend to fall on the platonic side for those types of relationships)#i respect when one is done well bc it's hard to do and it can often feel really forced and caleb and veth NEVER do #caleb widogast #veth brenatto

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bronx-bomber87 · 4 months

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Happy Wednesday Fandom. We’ve reached THE episode. Sorry little later than usual. Life didn't understand I had a review to do ha I remember not knowing what this ep would quite be. When it was done I had to pick my jaw off the floor. I was in utter shock and felt like a fever dream I was watching. Like did that really just happen? Was that real life? It’s was so exciting to have the payoff.

Even if it felt like it wasn’t real LOL Did my damn best to get everything in. I feel like I’ve become really good at this gif puzzle but eps like this really pushes me to the limit ha. God bless the gif website I found or I would be screwed haha Let’s get this started :)

5x08 The Collar

Aaron wants to shadow Angela and Harper today. He is looking into being a detective someday. So Grey re-assigns him to them and Lucy to Tim. Telling her she’s back on gopher duty. They could not be MORE suspicious or obvious if they tried my god. You know Grey knows his question about riding together is making them more uncomfortable. It's hilarious really. Trying to get them to out themselves. Instead they’re just little awko tacos staring at each other bumbling around.

He knows they’re lying with their 'No's' But he also doesn’t care. LOL They’re riding together whether they like it or not. It's amazing with their lives on the line with UC their ability to lie is amazing. Flawless really. Having to deal with their still weirdness and not show it? Abysmal. Such bad liars in this scene holy hell. The amount of awkward in this 30 seconds floors me.

From the minute Grey suggests they ride together they’re awkward dorks. Ones who don’t know complete sentences or words. This scene says so much with saying so little at the same time . There’s a reason they’ve stayed away from each other. This moment right here. They’re so very aware if they are back in a shop together everything they’ve been avoiding will come rushing back. Such a strong start to the ep for them though. Enjoyed their discomfort so much ha

We start out with them in the shop being awkward af. I loved the shots in this one and their opening one is great. With the cams coming to life and their day starting. Lucy of course is the first the break the silence. Asking him how single life is? He tells her really nice. How he didn’t have to deal with anyone complaining about him watching football all day.

Lucy giving him crap of course about never leaving the house. Things maybe weird between them but their comfortable banter hasn’t suffered. They fall right back into it with this scene. That married energy they have coming right back into play here. Gah they just balance each other out so well it’s insane. Haven’t had a couple this in-sync since Caskett on Castle.

I love him being a hermit though. He earned it after Ashley. He did whatever she damn well pleased for months. You stay home and watch your football babe. You earned it after that disaster of a relationship. Tim does defend himself a little saying he took Kojo out LOL I consider that going out too when I’m needing a hermit day. I'm with you on this Tim.

I love the affectionate way Lucy says he’s hopeless. That’s the beautiful thing about Lucy for Tim. Yeah she gives him crap but she fully loves that man for who he is. She would spend a day being a hermit with him just because it made him happy. D just wrote an amazing fic on that concept actually. (You should read it so so good) Lucy loving and accepting him for who he is and not condemning him for it. Yeah she’s teasing him for being ‘hopeless’ when really she is so fond of who he is as a person. Loves that man inside and out. You can see the adoration on her face when she delivers that line.

Just love the idea of them having lazy Sundays together now. Lucy indulging his hermit ways when he needs it. No doubt Tim indulges when she wants to be out. Because their partnership is a balanced one. Gah I love them. Chris FaceTimes her and Tim looks over and makes a face LOL god damn I love this man. Chris asks her if she’s busy? She says no…but seems not at ease with this phone call. Lucy asks where he is? He tells her an open house…They could not be more opposites in this moment. They spoke earlier about moving in and Chris jumped the gun to houses. Sprinting toward a future she doesn't want.

Lucy wasn't even on board for moving in...She is looking so very panicked. He’s going on about how it needs work but is 3 bedrooms. Tim’s interest now has been piqued and it’s stressing Lucy out for a couple reasons. She is no where near ready for this step and he’s gunning to a house. Second Tim can overhear this adding another level of stress. She doesn’t want Tim to think they are there. Because well they aren’t….Lucy cuts the phone call off abruptly. Asks if they can talk later? Chris being the clueless oaf he is doesn’t pick up on her stress at all. He says 'love you' and she says nothing in reply just ends the damn call LOL

Tim asks if they’re moving together? Lucy looks even more distressed after the phone call. Her body language screaming she’s being dragged into this situation. Kicking and screaming really. Lucy tells him no…Tim follows up with ‘He seems to think you are…’ Lucy is having a panic attack right now when he says that. The way she puts her hand on her chest. Trying to relieve the building pressure of this whole thing. Now there’s a girl ready to move in with her BF…. She seems so rattled the entire conversation with Tim.

Lucy continues on that he kind of sprang it on her this morning. He can read her discomfort like a book. So he continues his line of questioning. Which is unreal because you know the shop is a personal life free zone right Timothy? The fact that he’s the one pursuing this conversation. Being the one to ask the questions. My god how far we’ve come it’s crazy. He can tell how unsettled she is. The way he’s analyzing her and looking at her tells him everything he needs to know.

Yet he asks her ‘You guys are happy right?’ Lucy does a very unenthusiastic ‘Yeah we’re happy…’ Tim presses on like a devils advocate that is making her panic worse. Saying if that's true this is 'The next obvious steps for them then.' Lucy continuing her fake streak saying they’re “super happy.” Ok love sure you are…As she says this she is rubbing the crap out of her tattoo. Just being a lying liar who lies right now. They get a call before the convo continues on.

Everyone gets involved in a stop Nolan and Celina have. She has a bomb collar around her neck and she becomes the focal point for everything. The tension and writing leading up to them getting her to that parking lot in immense. Even though I've seen this episode many many times that portion always gets me. It’s so sad how afraid she is and her re-evaluating her life cause of it. How empty it feels now.

Pam and John talking was heartbreaking. How all she wanted was for her mom to know she loved her ugh. Sadly she ends up dying and that’s where this scene begins for them. I truly think this SL was a motivator for Tim. One of the reasons for where we head in this one. Because it’s so easy to get bogged down with life. To fall into the going through the motions. To have regrets with having a comfort zone. Tim taking a shot based off that.

Lucy expressing how she is feeling. It was upsetting to watch as a viewer. I can’t imagine being there watching that unfold. Tim being her sounding board. Knowing how upset she is right now. Giving her feedback on what he thought was the killers motive. Talking this out because he know it'll ease her mind. Then stupid Chris calls. Blind as a bat couldn’t read Lucy if his life depended on it.

He’s not calling to see if she’s ok or how she’s doing. No he’s calling about a f*cking house. She could not be more distraught right now. What does this tool bag do? Bring up listings. I love how Tim’s eyes pan over to her. Checking in on her emotional state. Seeing she is so distraught. It’s very obvious she is upset and this is the last thing she wants to be talking about. This moment is opening her eyes to who Chris is as a person. She isn’t liking what she sees.

Her ‘wow’ sounds like she is trying to stop herself from going off on him. So ignorant and oblivious to her and what she needs right now. Lucy already wasn’t on board with this which he didn’t see. Now she’s rattled from their current case and this mofo is sending her house stuff. Lucy can’t even process this right now. Tim being her absolute hero and hearing her silent screaming bails her out. “Yelling” at her to get off the phone. Hate his line ‘He’s in a mood.’

No you’re a clueless insensitive idiot. Who he is currently saving her from. He presses about that damn listing one more time before she hangs up. Haven’t wanted to sucker punch him this badly since 4x17. Lucy can finally breathe when they hang up. She looks to her rock and says ‘Thanks.’ A very loaded and grateful one. Tim giving her the sweetest look. Fierce protector reporting for duty. Putting her first in this moment and saving her from that convo going further.

I LOVE how Tim is constantly watching and checking in on her in this episode. He handles this whole thing so well. He’s not a dick telling her to dump Chris. He’s so so god damn attuned to her emotionally. It shows so very much in this episode. Lucy loves to talk things out and yet she keeps avoiding it in this episode. Avoiding truly getting to the root of why she’s feeling the way she is.

Which is fascinating considering that’s her jam. Analyzing and breaking something down. Digging deep to see why something is the way it is. Yet on this one she is avoiding it and Tim gets her to face it. He even gives her an out if she needs it. Telling her if she doesn’t want to move in with Chris she doesn’t have to. Tim just got out of a ‘moving through the motions.’ relationship. His POV on this is excellent.

He doesn’t want to see her settle or be forced into anything she doesn’t want. Just because Chris is ready and wants it. Lucy finally starts to talk about it. Saying why doesn’t she want to move in with him? Telling Tim they never fight. Thats a huge red flag if you ask me Lucy. That’s not healthy at all. Tim telling her maybe that’s the problem here….

It’s this next line above that really gets Lucy’s thoughts in motion. Tim just did a mind f*ck when he asked her this. You can see the realization washing over her in that second gif. Because he’s not wrong. You fight because it is worth fighting for. Chris has always been this blah middle of the road nothing for her. Was a BF? Yes. Was he decent? That’s debatable…

Chris was just there as a safety net for loneliness. Now that he’s becoming more than that it’s becoming a serious issue. One she can't ignore anymore. All their glaring problems coming to light in this moment in her mind. Tim is talking her through this (which I can't get over.) With the most perfect mixture of empathy and logic. She’s slowly realizing he is NOT worth the bother.

Tim is not only pointing this out but with massive heart eyes. Telling her she deserves someone who’s worth the effort. Pre-laying all his cards on the table in this moment. She can’t break the eye contact with him after he says this. Knowing what he means by this statement. This entire episode is him being Tim ‘I’m worth the effort’ Bradford for her. The more she looks at Chris the less she likes it.

The more she looks at Tim the more she knows he’s the one. And that scares her to death. God I love him stepping up and guiding her like this. Not only that but talking her though this whole thing. Something that he avoided like the plague in 3x09. Shaking closure and talking off and saying it was useless. Here he is talking her through this crisis she is having. He’s crushing it too btw. Such an iconic line for them for so many reasons. This makes me squee still rewatching it.

Before their convo goes any further they spot a second person with a collar. This guy is way more aggressive about saving his life. Pulls off and finds some sheers. Saying he’s not waiting around to die. Tim immediately grabs Lucy and heads for cover. It’s the way he holds her and shields her at the same time.

That’s his whole world right there. He would take the heat of a thousand bombs to protect her. Tim has a one track mind in this moment. He’s not thinking Lucy can handle herself. Or she is capable of getting to cover on her own. No he’s thinking that’s the woman he loves in front of a bomb.

It changes his entire perspective. So he full on grabs her and places his body between her and the bomb. Thats his first instinct to throw himself between her and harm. Gah it’s so good and just feels like more in this ep. Proving to Lucy over and over in this one she is worth the effort to him. Fierce protector front and center.

We catch them back in the shop trying to figure out next moves about this next bomb. Chris texts her another listing... In an area she CLEARLY doesn’t want to live in. Tim can’t stand to watch her suffer any longer. He is as straight forward with her in this moment as I’ve ever seen him. He knows she has been on edge all day. From the case alone.

Now she has Chris making matters worse with each interaction. She looks so upset when Tim asks her if she loves him? Noting that 'He clearly loves her.' His growth I talk about a lot and it’s episodes like this that truly show it. Look at this man pressing her to talk about this. He knows she’s in her head and talking it out always makes it better. Tim knows this about her and is pursuing it for that reason.

Lucy has been running from her feelings for Tim for quite some time. She low key knew about them in s4. Then 4x21 happened and they imploded on her. Hitting her like ton of bricks. This moment is her ‘Come to Jesus’ moment about Chris. Also about her feelings for Tim. Saying out loud she SHOULD love him. That he’s great in so many different ways and yet…

It’s hitting her in this very moment she can’t love Chris because she loves Tim. Because that man is and NEVER will be Tim Bradford. He will forever pale in comparison to the man sitting to her left. Tim is the most important person in her life. It’s just hitting her like a freight train what’s happening. I love how she trails off as she comes to this conclusion. The way she looks at him when she comes to this realization.

Doesn't take much for Tim to see what she almost said to him. Lucy says enough that Tim knows what she is saying in this moment. The way he looks at her after her almost confession. my heart. I think this scene is another catalyst to their ending scene. I remember watching this scene and saying ‘You’ for her and squeeing my head off. Because she just basically admitted to not only herself but to Tim. That Chris is not Tim. He never will be…They both know it at this point. He is not 'You' is where she was headed and they both are aware of this.

We’ve reached THE scene. The scene that changed all of our shipper lives. heh Lucy coming up saying she needs to talk to him. Her rubbing that tattoo of hers before she sits down. Tim making a crack about Chris wanting to live in some remote place. I don’t know anything about CA but I imagine that city he listed isn’t great ha

Lucy says ‘No…’ Tim goes right at it telling she just doesn’t want to admit it’s not working. He asks her why she is doing this? When she is clearly so VERY unhappy about this development. This entire episode she spent stressed and on edge about Chris. Asking her if it's the guilt about Rosalind?

Lucy tries to pull a Tim and deflect. Bringing up Ashley and staying in a relationship too long. Tim does not let that fly for one damn second. Continues his assertive comments with her. He gets so worked up when he cuts her off about it above. That this isn't about him. Telling her she’s just hiding in this relationship because she’s scared.

It’s here Lucy blows his damn mind with her reply. Airing her fears of losing the the most important person in her life. Now I think Tim knew there was an attraction on Lucy’s end no doubt. She invited him in for gods sake in 5x01. He knew there was an attraction. What he didn’t know was the level of importance he held her life. It’s written all over his face. He is shocked legit shocked she feels this way about him. Now anyone with eyes could see Tim is exactly what she said. The most important relationship in her life.

The thing is Tim is so very damaged in that way. I get that so very much. Where you don’t expect those around you to love or care as much as you love and care for them. The sucky life of an insanely loyal person who has been burned which I can relate to. My friend just other day told me how much he missed me while I was away in TN visiting my sister. Him and my other friend missed me. I made a joke like oh did you not think I would come back?

Would you miss me or something? He looked at me and was like yes. We love you don’t you know that? I would be devastated if you didn’t come back. We’ve been friends for almost 5 years. It still shocks me I have people who love me and would miss me. So I can deeply relate to Tim being shocked he holds that place of importance in Lucy’s life. He’s NEVER been put first. Not till Lucy Chen entered his orbit.

She panics when she sees his reaction not reading him like she usually does. Thinking she’s overshared. When really Tim is just smitten af with her reply. He is beside himself with shock that he is HER #1 person. He doesn’t feel worthy. Thats not what Lucy reads at first when she sees his reaction. She thinks she’s over shared or over stepped in some way. Tim stops that train of thought right away. Telling her 'No she’s right.' Lucy once again misreads him and thinks they should just back off this then. Better to keep them as is. ‘It’s not worth the risk...’

Then we see our boy do the biggest leap of faith I’m sure he’s ever done and combat her reply with our next iconic OTP line. ‘Unless it is.’ Looks how cute he is when he says this. His precious upside down smirk. Reminds me of his cute smirk from 4x22 after their peck. He looks so excited about this idea. Just look at this puppy of a man. Going for it and telling her I think we are worth this. Wanting to give them a shot. Basically saying we are worth risking what we currently have for what could be.

This next part is where his courage really shines through. I love how he takes this deep shaky breath in the first gif. So nervous to ask her this question. Tim Bradford is NERVOUS everyone. So nervous to ask the woman he loves to take a chance on him. To go out to dinner and give this a shot. He finally finds the courage to ask her. Lucy’s answer is immediate and adorable.

If she could go to dinner right then and there she would. Jumping out of her skin with excitement at his proposal of going out. Tim is so elated and his smile so damn wide when he says ‘Yeah?’ He can’t believe his luck. Looks like the smile of a man who just got everything he's ever wanted. Months of longing over in this moment of courage. He’s so happy she’s said yes. The man is beaming proudly displaying that Lucy smile he reserves for her and ONLY her. Lucy mirrors his elation with her 'Yeah' *heart clutch*

Lucy then back tracks and we watch our boy deflate instantly. He looks so very upset when she takes it back. Her excitement got the better of her and she retracts. I saw a hilariously accurate depiction of Tim in this scene. Said he had golden retriever energy in this moment. All excited and giddy for getting what he wants. Body wiggling with absolute joy. Then is told no and is all sad and deflated. Then he doesn’t perk back up until she says she needs to end things with Chris first.

The analogy cracked me up because it was accurate. He looks so very gutted when she says no after. Has that 'This was too good to be true I guess.' energy coming off him in waves. Lucy tries to rectify the situation with her reason why. Doesn't want to see that sad look on his face. The man looks devastated. He just went from an absolute high only to come crashing down seconds later. The way he nods like he understands but is really hurt about it. My poor puppy of a man.

I love how he lights backs up when she tells him to ask her again. Later. After she’s rid herself of the dead weight that is Chris. Making sure Tim knows she wants this just as much as he does. She just needs to end things first. Make it right. No one gets doing things honorably more than Tim Bradford. His cute smile after he tells Lucy 'Deal.' His hope returning. Their body language above in the last gif is everything. Their bodies are pointed towards each other. They couldn’t be happier right now. Leaning in toward one another finally giving into that magnetic pull of their's. Both grinning like idiots in love. Gah I can not. I am a puddle. I remember rewinding that scene to make sure I saw and heard everything correctly.

I was expecting their pining era to last longer tbh. I was delightfully surprised when Tim of all people took the leap. Helped Lucy take it with him. For him to be the one without doubts and to go for it was so important. Lucy for the most part has been the catalyst in their relationship. Tim has has his moments. More so in the last season or so. But Lucy has mainly been in the drivers seat. To watch this man overcome his fear of rejection and go for it with her. my damn heart. This man isn’t scared to ruin what they have because he KNOWS. This is it for him. She is it. I can’t get over how much he’s grown to get to this place.

To be the one to say hey we’re worth the risk. Would you like to go out with me? Showing her she’s worth the effort of leaving his comfort zone. This moment right here is why I’m so glad they did the slow burn. Why I was ultimately happy they didn’t hook up in 5x01. This was the right way to do it. I wouldn’t trade a moment of their journey to get to this point. Not one and that’s is a rarity I’ve only had with one other ship. Castle and Beckett and that is a high honor if you know that ship. This was another daunting one to tackle but so fun to write about. I was buzzing for days after this episode. Mostly just happy this is where our slow burn ended up. Wouldn’t change a damn thing.

~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

The whole bomb SL with Pam makes me cry every time. It’s so tragic. Will say John was great with her rarely give him props but he does so good with her. Celina having to do the death notice kills me this ep is very emotional.

Bailey messing with John with the clowns is pretty funny LOL but idk how Bailey could think a coyote was a dog lmao ‘how did you get him In the crate?’ 😂

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lonelycowgirls · 1 year

Text

Been There All Along

Another concept nobody asked me for coming in hot...

I don't know about you, but I love the thought of Harry being in a long-term relationship. Call me old-fashioned, but the idea of him being truly in love with one special person since before One Direction just makes me feel all the feels!✨

So, I took influence from @satanhalsey's Since Forever universe - if you haven't read their writing you simply must because it's amazing - and here is my take.

For a bit of background, Stella is a midwife and Harry is everything he is in real life. This is a taster to their story, I'll see if you all like it first...

Please like, reblog and follow if you enjoy it!

My asks are also open for feedback and ideas to how this universe can continue.

Nel xxx

Where Stella goes to Harry’s last night at Madison Square Garden and gets a call that could change everything

Part one of two

“He’s so amazing, Stell. You must be so proud.”

Stella nodded to Jeff, Harry’s manager, who stood beside her in the arena. She couldn’t believe that little Harry Styles from Cheshire was selling out 15 consecutive shows in New York City. After 13 years together, she’d seen him play endless amounts of shows, not all of them he’d left feeling happy with but every one of them feeling grateful. He’d been blessed and in turn, she’d been blessed too. But they’d been through hardship recently, and she was beginning to lose faith in them as a couple and him as a partner - something she’d never seen coming.

“You’ve become exactly what we always feared. You’ve become selfish and egotistical… you’re all... Hollywood now. Remember who you are, Harry. Remember the kind of person you wanted to be. Remember us… Remember where you came from.”

That was the last thing she’d said to him before he’d hung up on her in a huff. But she was there, of course, at the last show of his residency. Because she was always there. She was starting to worry that that was their problem. She was always there, no matter what. He, on the other hand, couldn’t always be there. He’d missed her graduation from her midwifery course because he was on tour with the band. He’d missed her beloved Granddad's funeral because he had a movie premiere he was contractually obliged to attend. He’d missed her brother’s wedding because, “we’re running really behind on the album, Stell. I can’t miss a single day, the release date is literally a month away.” She’d cried all evening from embarrassment. And from the seven shots of tequila that she’d downed before the first dance.

But still, she was always there. Because she loved him and she loved being there.

They hadn’t spoken since he’d hung up on her that night she’d had a go at him. She wasn’t someone who lost her temper easily, so it truly shocked Harry when she spoke to him in the manner that she had. He was shaking when he’d hung up the phone. Out of anger mostly, but also out of fear. Fear that he could actually lose her this time. That all they’d been through would be a waste. He didn’t know what being without her was like. They’d been a partnership since they were teenagers. 13 years on, he didn’t know his world without her.

She clapped along to Treat People With Kindness and did an awkward small two-step to Cinema, inwardly cringing at, “you’re getting yourself wet for me,” just like she always did. Harry hadn’t even written that line but Tom knew the fans would love it. She didn’t like the line and thought it was too on the nose and tactless. Harry was clever and artistic when he wrote music. And they were so private as a couple that it cringed her out to no end to think other people were thinking about and imagining their sex life. Never once had he uttered those words to her because they both knew it would kill the mood. She loved when he talked dirty to her, but not if it sounded like he'd ripped it straight off a porn film.

She actually felt nervous in those moments before the encore. She knew he’d want to see her but she didn’t want to feel the awkward tension that would probably encase the room that surrounded them. She got her phone out to look at the time and saw a text from a friend at work.

George: 9.55pm

Mel’s gone into labour

George: 9.55pm

Got it dealt with but thought you might want to come in to support her x

George: 10.02pm

Let me know!

The hair on her arms stood up on end. She’d been reviewing Melanie’s pregnancy for practically the whole eight months, she wasn’t due for another three weeks. She’d grown very fond of her as a patient and knew that she was having the baby regardless of the fact the father wanted nothing to do with them. She vowed that she wouldn’t miss the birth and would be there to support her. Trouble was that she was thousands of miles away… in New York. Harry had the means to get her back in six hours but she didn’t know how he might feel if she was to shoot off while they were having issues. Just as Harry was rising back to the stage to sing Sign of the Times she tapped Jeff on the shoulder and held up her phone to signal she was taking a call. He nodded and turned back to cheer on his friend.

Stella: 10.09pm

How far along, G?! x

George: 10.09pm

Not far at all, water’s only just broke and no contractions

George: 10.09pm

She’s only just left her house

George: 10.10pm

Wouldn’t have messaged if I thought you wouldn’t make it

Stella bit her lip in thought as Jeff put a hand on her shoulder, she jumped and swung around. “Last song.” He said in her ear, meaning it was almost time to head backstage. Harry usually headed straight to the vans waiting outside, meeting Stella in the backseat and the two of them journeying back to their hotel. Tonight they were planning to celebrate a little longer at the venue with the crew. Jeff said the arena had a surprise for Harry and that when the last song came on they would all move together to a designated area closer to the stage so that Harry could see them clearly.

She followed Jeff and the rest of Harry’s extensive entourage behind security guards. She thought about the afterparty and tried to imagine herself drinking and mingling whilst she knew Melanie was giving birth, without her. It was Harry’s last night at The Garden… but she had to go. She glanced back up at Harry on the stage, and then caught sight of Olivia’s silhouette dancing wildly with her friends to Kiwi. She questioned whether if she left tonight, the shoulder Harry would choose to cry on would be Olivia's. Would she be pushing him straight into her arms? She shook her head to rid the thought and made the decision. She turned and split from the group to rush back to Harry’s dressing room and pack her bag. There wasn’t time to go back to the hotel, she’d have to hop a jet with what she’d brought to the arena. Luckily, she always carried her passport as ID when she was in foreign countries. Her hands shook with adrenaline as she used one to stuff things into her tote and one to call Harry’s travel manager.

“Stella? What are you doing?” Jeff said from the doorway. She glanced at him before snapping back to put the phone to her ear.

“I’ve gotta get back home, Jeff. Ugh, why aren’t you picking up the bloody phone?!” She groaned in frustration as she redialed the number.

“I can get you a cab back to the hotel, Stell. Just let me g-,”

“No, I mean I need to get on a plane back to the UK and these bloody people aren’t answering!” She began to anger. Jeff frowned and turned when he heard footsteps down the hallway. Harry’s brow furrowed as he caught eyes with his confused manager who just shook his head back before stepping aside to allow him to enter the room.

“Stell? You alright?” His first response was to be concerned at how flustered she looked. But he felt uncharacteristically nervous in her presence because of how they’d left their last conversation. He stepped across the threshold as she put the last of her belongings into her bag and zipped it closed. “Going somewhere?” He laughed humourlessly, never expecting her to actually be leaving on a night like that. One of the most special moments in his career. He’d looked over, teary-eyed, to where he thought she’d be stood as his commemorative banner dropped and he saw everyone but her. He saw Jeff, Glenne, James, and even Olivia. He imagined there would be an influx of gifs and videos of his face falling all over social media by the time he got into bed that night and unlocked his phone.

He saw her bursting tote bag and felt his stomach turn over. “Has something happened? Is your mum okay?” He said turning her to look at him with hands on her shoulders.

“Yes, Harry. Everyone’s fine but I need to go home,” she looked up at him and sighed, avoiding his eyes. “I need a plane.”

“Oh, why? Urgently?” She’d shaken off his hands from her shoulders and was heading for the door. “Stell, everyone’s in the other room waiting to celebrate. You need to tell me what’s going on or I’ll start to think this is it.” Stella's shoulders sank and she sighed deeply. Even just hearing him talk about them ending like that made her feel sick.

“I need to go back home because a patient of mine is in labour. George texted me during the show.”

“Seriously? You want to travel eight hours to see some woman give birth, something you see every day, when we haven’t seen each other in weeks? When I haven’t seen you since you had a go at me over the phone?” She swung back around and jumped when she realised how close he was. He looked angry, but when Harry looked angry he looked about as intimidating as a growling puppy.

"Come with me then!"

"Really? That's unfair, you know I can't do that." He said defeatedly. "Stell, she's just another patient, you'll have hundreds more to take care of in your lifetime." He said, softer, trailing his fingers down her arms to hold her hands in an effort to convince her. She snatched her hands away.

“Are you serious right now?” She poked his sweaty chest. “She’s not just a patient, she’s a woman in my care. She’s someone I’ve spent most of my time with for nearly a year and someone I’ve grown to care about.” She turned to walk down the hallway, him following close after her. She whipped around again in frustration. “You’d know all about it if you paid attention to anyone talking about anything that wasn’t to do with you.” His eyes blazed and he opened his mouth to argue before they heard someone pointedly knock on the wall.

“Hey, H, we’re all waiting to toast you.” Olivia smiled from the doorway of the catering room. They both turned to look at her and Stella breathed deeply through her nose and glared at Harry when he glared back.

“Go on, H," She made a point of using the nickname. "You deserve to celebrate.”

“Stella,”

“Just get me a plane and I’ll be out of your hair.” She smiled, short and tight-lipped, checking her phone for the time, every second she spent arguing with Harry was time she couldn’t afford to waste. He stepped forward so that Olivia couldn’t hear as clearly.

“If you think it's more important, sure, I’ll get you the plane.” His nostrils flared but she stayed stoic. “This hurts me though, Stell." She softened slightly at his words. "How do you think it’s gonna look to everyone that you raced off somewhere instead of being here for me?” Stella scoffed. She couldn’t even force herself to argue with him anymore, she couldn’t believe how selfish he’d become. She didn’t even want to look at him, he was nothing like the boy she’d fallen in love with. She took her gaze to the floor to keep from rolling her eyes. He nodded in submission. “I’ll go get Jeff to sort the plane out. Hope you get there safe.”

Stella sat in her aeroplane seat, taking deep breaths to keep herself calm as they flew over France. She was so close to returning to the UK and ached to take her phone off of safety mode. But a part of her was thankful to switch off, to be forced to stop doom scrolling through endless pictures and videos of Harry that fans would post on social media after a show. She prayed that Melanie was holding back, that she’d make it on time. The way she’d left things with Harry made her very anxious, to the point where she’d picture him and feel nauseous with anxiety. They’d never been in such a state. She questioned every move she’d made leading up to boarding that plane. The plane that he would end up paying for. She shook her head and leaned it back on the headrest, closing her eyes and running her hands over her face. She didn’t want to cry in front of the crew, she couldn’t trust whether they’d be taking pictures, despite it being a private plane company. All the years with Harry had caused her to become paranoid.

“Would you like another coffee, Miss Mallone?” Stella jumped again, the day’s events had caused her to have the serenity of a doe in headlights.

“Oh, yes, please. Thank you so much.” She said, smiling softly at the kind air hostess, she looked barely 21 years old. ‘Caitlin’ was written on her gold badge pinned to the lapel of her sleek navy blue skirt suit. Caitlin probably knew exactly who she was, and probably wondered why Harry wasn’t on the plane with her. Stella went red with embarrassment and awkwardness and lifted the beige cashmere blanket up to her chin. She rolled over to her side in her reclined seat and stared out at the passing clouds through the small plastic window. She glanced at her watch, around ten past eight in the morning back in London. About five o’clock in the morning back in New York. She thought of Harry, she couldn’t help it. He’d probably just be getting back to the hotel after a night of celebrations. He’d flip the lamp on, and see her suitcase that she’d had to leave to go straight to the airport. He’d roll his eyes as he collected up her makeup that was sprawled across the bed where she’d sat in her fluffy hotel dressing gown an hour before the show, dragging eyeliner across her lids in a rush because, as always, she’d been running late. He’d see her neatly folded stack of fresh underwear and pyjamas that rested on top of her pillow, ready for when they stumbled through the door, full of Champagne bubbles and Don Julio shots, giggling with wandering hands and greedy lips. Perhaps he’d smile a bit at the clothing knowing she’d done the same thing since the first time she’d stayed the night at his mum's house. He’d imagine her doing the same for their children, so they could have cosy memories of when they stayed at big fancy hotels away from home with mum and dad.

She opened her eyes when she felt a slight shove to her shoulder and turned to see Caitlin again, the lights were off, replaced with a low twinkle from the warm strips that glowed from the overhead bag compartments.

“Miss Mallone, apologies for disturbing your nap. We’re preparing to land in ten minutes.” Stella nodded, still a bit out of it and wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth and cheek with her thumb. Caitlin helped her push her seat back up from its reclined position and handed her a glass of water, assuming correctly that she’d have a dry mouth.

“Thank you, Caitlin.”

“You’re welcome. Is there anything else I can do for you, Miss Mallone?”

“No, thank you, you’ve been fantastic,” Stella smiled genuinely at the young girl who nodded. “Just ready to get home now.” She leaned forward to take a big gulp of water before resting back, clipping her seatbelt and bracing for landing.

As soon as the tyres hit the tarmac and she was ensured that she could turn her phone off aeroplane safety mode, Stella called George. She skipped over the texts from Pauli checking on her and went straight to dial.

“Hiya Stell, she’s still going,” Stella sighed deeply in immense relief. She grabbed her bag with the phone to her ear and nodded to the flight crew as they lined up to show her off the aircraft. “Where are you now?”

“Literally just getting off the plane,” she walked over to the car that had been organised to take her straight to London Royal Hospital. “Tell her I’m coming, won’t you?”

“She already knows, she said to tell you you’re mad!” Stella chuckled and sunk back into the soft leather, thankful for the heated seats after coming straight from the heat of New York City, and being dressed accordingly. She stressed to George to keep her updated and then hung up. Tapping through to the messages app, she navigated to Pauli's chat.

Pauli: 10.24am

You good, S?

Pauli: 10.35am

H said you dipped, you've spun him out

Me: 11.02am

Tell him I’m fine x

She tapped out the message and locked her phone to watch London go by as she sped to her destination. She was fine, regardless of how she couldn’t sit still and how her hair had become greasy with how many times she’d raked her fingers through it. She thought it was nice of Pauli to check on her, but she knew Harry was pissed off and would most likely be puking up the walls by now. He never handled anger well. With all the free booze, she knew he would be taking everything offered to him when he was in a certain headspace. She just hoped Olivia wasn’t an option on that list. But she couldn’t imagine him doing something so hurtful.

Finally, the driver pulled up after getting stuck in what felt like endless traffic. She rushed through the double doors of the hospital and ran past the desk to the lifts, bashing the button to call it.

“Morning, Val!” She exclaimed as the maternity check-in clerk frowned in her direction, confused as to what she was doing there when she’d booked the week off.

“What on earth ya doing here, girl?” She yelled brashly in her Jamaican accent, waddling behind Stella as she whipped her way through the ward towards the staff changing rooms to get into her uniform.

“I couldn’t miss Mel’s birth.” The older woman’s face fell before she kissed her teeth and threw her arms in the air, stomping and mumbling back out to man the desk. Thankful to be ridding herself of the clothes she’d travelled almost seven hours in, she opened her locker and grabbed her scrubs and shoes. She bundled her hair into a, ‘as neat as it’s going to get,’ top knot and washed her hands and forearms with warm soapy water. She took a deep breath in the mirror and tapped at her under-eye bags to try and get the blood flowing and skin de-puffing. Stuffing her belongings into her locker she exited the changing room and as luck would have it, ran straight into George, the head of her department.

“You’re here!” He said, wide-eyed. “Come on, she’s well on her way now. Doing brilliantly.” He marched ahead of her back to the ward and drew back the curtain to where Melanie was led, belly strapped up and gas and air flowing. “Got a visitor for you, Mel.”

Melanie’s eyes nearly bulged out of her head when she saw Stella peek around the corner. “Oh my God!” She tried to get out but it came muffled due to the tube she was holding in her mouth. Stella manoeuvred herself around the side of her bed into Mel’s open arms for a squeeze. “You must be mad, Stell. Oough.” She groaned the last part, contractions taking over.

“Alright, how are we doing with examinations? Dilation stats?”

“She was at four centimetres half an hour ago. Contractions seem to be every three minutes.”

“Okay, so we’re definitely in active labour. Shall we do another quick check?” Mel groaned again and took a good pull off the tube, turning onto her back and spreading her legs. It’s true when they say dignity goes out the door in childbirth. Stella manoeuvred the stool over to where Melanie’s legs were perched on medical stirrups. “Okay,” she said, lubing up her gloved fingers and diving right in. “Hmm, just relax for me, Mel. That’s it, well done.” Mel leaned her head back and groaned in pain as she contracted once again, the pangs coming faster as time went on. Stella pulled her hand out and passed the glove to George to get rid of. “That’s about seven centimetres. Time to get you through to the delivery room I’d say.” Stella grinned excitedly at Melanie, she always tried to keep the energy positive during labours, especially for first-time mothers who would usually be terrified. She moved up to the head of the bed and stroked back Melanie's hair away from her forehead. She was well and truly sucking the life out of the gas and air machine by then. Her watery blue eyes stared up at Stella with worry and pain. “It’s all going to be fine. We’ve got you.”

The room turned to chaos as the curtain was yanked back and nurses flanked each side of Melanie’s bed as they wheeled it to the nearest free delivery room.

Part two coming soon!

Author's note: I realise this is the second angsty piece I've posted on here... we're 2/2 now.

I guess I really am a messy bitch who loves drama.

#harry styles fic rec #harry styles #harry styles writing #fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles headcanon #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic

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asexualshouyou · 1 year

Text

Rei the Family Man

In episode 7, there was a lot of frustration mixed with sympathy towards Rei for his lack of ability to help carry the load of parenthood, leaving Kazuki to deal with it all. It’s so refreshing to see that wasn’t just a one-off instance and he actually is learning and growing from it. We see it here when he offers to help with the food, something he would’ve previously just left to Kazuki.

While Kazuki does tease him about it because “What?! Is the world ending?! You wanna help with the food?!”, there’s this sense of pride too. Keep in mind in episode 8 in the flashback when Kazuki literally had to cook, clean, and bathe this man because he was so helpless on basic life skills. And now he’s evolved that he’s actively wanting to help provide, not just for himself and Kazuki, but for their daughter.

And it doesn’t just end there either. He also took the initiative to put all of Miri’s favorite treats in the riceballs as well, such as cereal, strawberry jam, and gummies. A bit untraditional, but Miri, being a small child, absolutely loves it. It shows how much Rei pays attention to what she likes (and shares in those likes as well). In a way, Miri is providing him the childhood he missed out on.

And then we get to the climax. Which the episode had been building up towards. Rei cheering Miri on.

Unfortunately, Miri’s so shocked that she ends up tripping and losing that race, but it’s such a moment of Growth for Rei as a person to expend that much energy and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Kazuki either.

I really love that Kazuki’s attitude towards Rei’s efforts has changed, too. He sees how hard Rei is trying now. Cheering people on, making them riceballs, and wanting to be involved all seem like simple, bare-minimum things, but for someone like Rei, who grew up devoid of love and detached from the world, it’s a pretty big deal for him to come out of his shell like that.

This is probably the first episode where Kazuki and Rei felt like a real partnership and co-parents and not just Kazuki kinda dragging Rei along for the ride and I love that. All of the previous episodes have built up to this.

Also, a bonus:

Huge Married Energy here. Like literally fighting over who their child takes after more.

#rei suwa #buddy daddies

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perseusannabeth · 8 months

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Chapter 8 - Cassian

A/N: Hi guys, long time no see!

I just want to thank everyone for all the lovely comments you left me during this really long break I took. I really appreciated them, even though I didn't respond. You guys were the reason I carried on writing.

After I posted the last chapter, my grandad got really ill, and he passed away at the beginning of this year, so I've been super absent because as you can imagine, taking care of my grandad, and then dealing with his sickness and then death took it out of me. I'm doing a lot better now though, but writing isn't coming to me as easily as it was before.

I felt like since I finally finished writing and editing this chapter, everyone deserved it, but I have no idea when the next chapter will be. I promise I'm still writing this fic, I'm just taking a long time to write the chapters.

With that being said, please remember that this fic is angsty. There are no trigger warnings I can think of for this chapter, but if people think of any that need to be added, please let me know!

Word count: 7282

LMBYH Masterlist | My Masterlist | My Ask Box | Read on AO3

Cassian had never been the kind of man to live in excess. He enjoyed his wine and whiskey as much as the next person, but he rarely got drunk. Frankly, he found the effects on his health the morning after far too much for a man of his age. This night, however, was making Cassian wish he could work his way up to a drunken stupor because the after-effects of that would be more enjoyable than this night.

It hadn’t all been bad though. He had felt fairly good at the beginning of the ball and eventually had felt a level of joy he hadn’t known was possible when he had danced with his wife. The dance had given him hope that perhaps they could grow to have a more ‘normal’ relationship as husband and wife one day. One where they could grow to care for one another, and where they could depend on each other. They could become a husband and wife partnership that his parents had never had. Cassian had felt the chemistry with his wife, and he had wanted more. But hope was for fools, and he was the biggest fool of them all.

Nesta had seemed to be enjoying herself, talking to old Devlon. He hadn’t even known they were friends, but that made Kallon’s outburst at their wedding even worse. Then she was sat by her sister, and Feyre seemed so happy to spend time with Nesta. He somehow managed to lose sight of his wife, he thought she was safe with Feyre. He didn’t want to make it seem like he was following her, he had stayed close by if she needed him. He didn’t want to smother her.

It had come as a shock to him when Adelaide told him his wife was not feeling well, and he looked around to notice she wasn’t in the main hall like he thought. When he had tried to find Nesta, he had managed to get cornered by Ianthe, which he should’ve known would happen. Then of course, he was careless and Nesta saw them together, and as he tried to chase his wife and explain what she had seen, only for her to bump into Philp Mandray of all people. It was like a nightmare, only worse because Cassian knew without a shadow of a doubt that this was real. He wished he knew what he had done to deserve this.

The events of the night felt like they were catching up with him, and his head certainly felt like it was spinning. He wished he could just go to sleep and forget any of this had happened, but he couldn’t. Cassian wasn’t sure how long he stood there, looking at Philip and Nesta before he managed to shake himself out of his daze. Seeing Philip was a shock to the system. He knew that Philip would not be welcome at Helion’s house. Helion had his own issues with Philip Mandray way before the issue of Cassian marrying Nesta had happened.

“Nesta, are you alright?” Cassian asked loudly, reminding both Philip and Nesta of his presence. Nesta flinched at the sound of his voice. Cassian felt like a knife had pierced his chest at the sight of his wife, practically in another man’s arms, flinching at the sound of his voice hurt him more than he cared to admit.

“She’s fine, she’s always been very clumsy,” Philip responded, his voice grating on Cassian’s nerves as he spoke, a smirk on his face. Cassian’s hands were balled up, wishing he could throw a punch, but he couldn’t let his anger get the better of him like it did at his wedding. He needed to make sure Nesta was okay.

“I wasn’t aware that you had changed your name Mandray. Last time I checked, Nesta was my wife’s name. Care to explain why you decided to respond on her behalf?”

Philip’s face was instantly flooded with red, a mixture of anger and embarrassment, which brought Cassian great joy. Cassian hadn’t given a shit about Philip Mandray before, not until he had stopped Cassian from meeting Nesta before their wedding. Still, Cassian couldn’t bring himself to feel even the smallest ounce of guilt when it came to embarrassing Philip.

“Nesta, sweetheart, are you okay?” Cassian asked softly as he stepped forward. He slowly walked towards his wife, putting himself between her and Philip.

It seemed like that had been the right move, because Cassian coming into her line of sight seemed to snap her out of the state of shock she had gone into, and she didn’t flinch at the sound of his voice when she was looking at him. Cassian started to move his hand slowly to help her up, not wanting any sudden movements to startle his already terrified wife, but she didn’t even wait for his hand to become fully outstretched before she grabbed his arm so tightly Cassian wondered if she would leave marks. His wife was delicate and didn’t look like she would have the strength to do so, but she might prove him wrong.

She gripped him like she was afraid to let go, so Cassian brought her close by his side. Although he and his wife were not ones for public displays of affection, or any affection, Cassian felt that with Philip around, a united front was needed.

“I wasn’t aware that you were invited to Helion’s party Mr Mandray,” Cassian said, in the hope of reminding the man that he was risking making a huge scene if the hosts discovered he was here uninvited. A man like Philip put a lot of thought into his appearance, and sometimes needed reminding that he was not as untouchable as he thought.

“I was not, but I’m sure that I could’ve gotten an invite if I wanted. Anything can be bought for a price, after all,” Philip said, responding to Cassian but not taking his eyes off Nesta, who had buried her face in his chest. Cassian was trying not to focus on the fact this was the most physical contact they’d had since the wedding night.

“Well, an invitation to this party cannot be bought. I suggest you leave before you end up embarrassing yourself by having to be removed forcibly. I’m sure the guests would enjoy the entertainment though, if you feel like putting on a show,” Cassian said, smirking at him.

“There’s no need for the threats. That’s not the kind of behaviour I would expect from a Duke,” Philip said, tutting and shaking his head in fake disappointment.

“Ah yes but you forget, I’m not just simply a Duke. I was also in Her Majesty’s army. This is a tame reaction for a soldier,” Cassian said sternly. He didn’t remind people of his history very often, but Philip Mandray needed to be reminded that he was a threat.

Unfortunately for Cassian, it seemed that Philip didn’t give a shit. “What good is a soldier who has no experience in a war? We have been at peace for so long that your title is just for show.”

“I don’t need to justify my service to the likes of you. The Queen is aware of what I did for my country,” Cassian said, wishing he was able to say more.

Thankfully, Nesta tightened her grip on Cassian’s arm, reminding him she was in desperate need to get out of there. Although they hadn’t spoken about him very much, Cassian was very aware of how terrified she was of Phillip. He simply decided to ignore Philip’s existence (as much as it pained him) and focus on his clearly terrified wife.

“Do you remember what I said before we came? About how if you want to go home, you just need to say the word?” He asked quietly, so only Nesta could hear. Philip watched them with great curiosity, but Cassian ignored him.

Nesta had been shaking in his arms before, but now she was still. Cassian knew she remembered what he had said, but she didn’t say a word. He didn’t know why he was forcing Nesta to tell him she was uncomfortable and wanted to leave, but he felt like it was important for her to say this.

He waited for a response, before deciding that perhaps it was best to ease her into these things. He knew she wouldn't have been allowed to voice her opinion while married to Tomas.

“Nesta, I need an answer. Do you want to go home?”

Nesta was so still in his arms that he wasn’t sure she had heard him. He was about to repeat himself when she nodded, her face still buried in his chest, but it was enough of a step for Cassian. He knew that telling him she wanted to go home had not been easy for her.

He didn’t bother glancing at Philip, who was glaring at him with such hatred that Cassian wished he could punch him. It seemed unfair that he had punched Kallon at the wedding, but had never once laid hands on Philip, despite him being far worse in some respects.

Still, he had someone else to think about now. He couldn’t let his emotions rule him, not when he had Nesta to worry about. He led Nesta into Helion’s study, knowing the guards would be standing around. As lax as Helion could be, he would never give someone the opportunity to slip into his study when nobody was paying attention. He’d learnt the hard way that he always had to be prepared.

Thankfully, the guards knew Cassian well enough to allow him into the study. He guided Nesta onto one of the many armchairs placed around the room, before going to the guard at the door, asking him to find someone to bring his carriage around to the side entrance. With the state Nesta was in, he didn’t want the partygoers to talk about her more than they already were.

A servant was called and asked to relay a message to Helion and Adelaide that the two of them would be leaving now. They would pass the message on to Nesta’s sisters and the rest of their friends so nobody would worry. He would have to explain what happened later on, once he had made sure Nesta was okay. He knew he had some explaining to do to his wife first, but seeing Philip had clearly scared her. He needed to make sure she was okay before talking to her about anything else that had happened during the evening. He didn’t want to add to her stress and worsen her condition, because she looked incredibly unwell right now.

Cassian was tempted to send a rider to go get the doctor so that they would arrive home at the same time as the doctor and he would be able to check Nesta over. Thankfully, the rational part of Cassian’s mind reminded him that his wife wasn’t even comfortable around him, so there was no way she would remain calm when a doctor tried to do an examination.

Since she had been seated in the armchair, Nesta had gone still. Before, when she had been in his arms, she had been shaking uncontrollably; whether this was due to her fear or shock, Cassian was unsure. Now, she was not reacting to anything. He had called her name a few times, moving in front of her hoping to snap her out of her trance, but there was nothing, not even a trace of recognition. He didn’t want to risk touching her in case she reacted badly. She seemed to shy away from him at the best of times.

Thankfully, the carriage pulled around the French doors, probably ruining Helion’s perfectly manicured lawn, but Cassian didn’t give a shit if he was perfectly honest. He knew that Helion and Adelaide wouldn’t care either.

“Nesta, the carriage is here. Let’s get you home now,” Cassian said gently as he kneeled down in front of her, slowly putting his hand on Nesta’s. Thankfully, that seemed to be enough to bring Nesta back into the present, although she seemed disorientated.

Cassian guided her into the carriage by her hand, similar to how you would take a child by the hand to guide them. Cassian joined her in the carriage, trying to give her as much space as possible in a carriage.

Not knowing what to say, Cassian decided to stay silent. His silence allowed him to get lost in his own thoughts, which mostly consisted of him thinking how nice the calm before the storm had been. His mind kept going back to how beautiful Nesta had looked while dancing in his arms. He had never seen his wife radiate such joy, and he wished he could go back to that. Instead, it had all gone to hell as soon as she left his arms, or so it felt like. There had been chaos after, and Cassian couldn’t understand what happened. Only, that was a lie. He hadn’t been careful. He had let his guard down in his joy of being out with his wife.

He was pulled out of his melancholy thoughts by the sound of Nesta gasping for breath. It seemed like she had come out of the trance, and now the panic in her eyes told Cassian she was hyperventilating.

“Nesta, it’s okay, you’re safe. Please, just breathe,” Cassian said, scrambling closer to her. His movements made her flinch away from him, so he stilled and sat as still as he possibly could in a moving carriage.

His words were no help to her, Nesta’s mind was already riddled with panic, and her breathing was getting shallower and louder. Cassian knew she needed fresh air, but stopping their carriages on the mostly deserted roads was not safe either, so he made a decision, which was most definitely a stupid decision.

He moved to the door of the carriage while he shucked off his overcoat, wrapping it around his hand clumsily, and then punched the glass. It shattered instantly, causing Nesta’s strangled-sounding breaths to stop. He ignored the pain in his hand and cleaned all the glass near Nesta so she wouldn’t get hurt.

Once her path to the broken window was as safe as he could make it, he moved back to the other side of the carriage. “You needed fresh air to help make you feel better. Please mind the glass,” Cassian said, nodding at the window.

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again after no words came out. She took some time, but eventually, she moved towards the broken window and closed her eyes. The gentle breeze moved the strands of hair that had come out of her coronet, and Cassian could almost fool himself into pretending she looked calm.

For the rest of the carriage ride, Nesta closed her eyes and focused on her breathing while Cassian watched her cautiously from the other side of the carriage. She didn’t seem to be calming down, not that he could tell anyway, but she was certainly getting control of herself again. Cassian wished he knew what that meant though. Was it calming enough? Did that mean she felt better, or just better enough to hide her emotions from Cassian? He assumed it was the latter, but it didn’t stop him from wishing he knew his wife better. How could they live together if they didn’t know each other? Every time he tried opening up to her, he was met with a cold hard wall. He knew she didn’t want to share things about her previous marriage, and he assumed none of it could be good, but he knew nothing.

A normal married couple would know things like each other’s likes and dislikes, and what made them happy or sad. A normal husband would know how to comfort his wife when she was in the state Nesta was in. But Cassian was no normal husband. How could he be, when Nesta was no normal wife? He didn’t need a normal relationship, and he had known that their marriage would be normal, but he didn’t imagine feeling so helpless. He had assumed that taking Nesta away from the Mandray house would free her. He didn’t realise the impact the years had on her until he started living with her.

When the carriage stopped outside of their house, Cassian felt relief. He knew that, here at least, Nesta was safe and comfortable. He had control of the environment, the situation and the people now, so he might be able to be more useful to Nesta. At the very least, he could do things to distract himself from the helplessness while his wife fought the demons in her mind.

He jumped out of the carriage, holding the door open for Nesta so she didn’t touch the broken glass. She stepped out gingerly, looking so weak that Cassian fought the urge not to scoop her up in his arms and carry her to bed.

Hill was waiting at the door, watching pensively as they came in. She knew Cassian well enough to know when something was wrong, and nobody could look at Nesta and assume she was okay.

“What do you need me to do?” Hill asked, ready to jump into action as per usual.

“I need some tea if you don’t mind,” Cassian said. Hill didn’t say anything, just rushing off towards the kitchen.

He guided Nesta to their bedroom, trying his best not to come too close to her. She seemed to be walking in a trance, the part of her brain that knew her routine just took over as she walked to their rooms. Nesta walked in and took a step towards the dressing room before Cassian gently told her to sit down.

She froze, and Cassian was sure that she had forgotten he was even there. “If you would just take a seat for a few moments, Hill will be here soon. I would feel much better if you drank some tea to calm your nerves before attempting to sleep.”

He knew saying he wanted Nesta to drink the tea was a low blow, she would see it as a direct order from him, but right now he didn’t care. If she was only willing to sit and drink the damned tea because he told her to, he would order her gladly. He needed to do something, anything to make himself feel better.

Nesta sat down, as he requested, on his mother’s armchair, which pleased Cassian, and he couldn’t quite say why. Either way, seeing his wife sitting in his mother’s favourite chair was a nice feeling. It calmed his nerves ever so slightly.

“Your hand,” Nesta murmured, as Cassian sat down on one of the other chairs.

“Pardon?” Cassian asked. She had spoken so quietly that he wasn’t sure he had heard her properly.

“Your hand, you hurt it,” Nesta said, looking at his injury.

Cassian followed her gaze to his hand, and to his surprise, it was bleeding. It looked rather gruesome, and as though it should hurt, and yet Cassian hadn’t even noticed it. He had assumed his clumsily wrapped overcoat would do the job, but in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about it very much. He had been far too distracted to realise he had hurt himself, and Nesta was clearly confused about how he didn’t notice it himself.

“It isn’t bothering me, my lady, there’s no need to worry,” Cassian said, trying to soothe her worries while covering his hand with his other hand.

Nesta’s frown deepened. She leaned closer toward him and gently pulled his bleeding hand closer to her for inspection. Cassian went still, holding his breath so that any movement didn’t stop his wife from voluntarily holding his hand. Of course, the circumstances weren’t great, but she had willingly held his hand! He certainly wasn’t feeling any pain now that his wife was holding his hand in hers so gently.

As a man, society dictated that Cassian didn’t need people to be gentle with him. It wasn’t something that had ever bothered him, he had simply accepted it was how life was and moved on. Nesta held his hand gently while she inspected it was the first time someone had been this soft since his mother had died. He hadn’t even realised he missed it. He had assumed when he thought about his mother and it hurt, he was missing her. He didn’t realise he was also missing the kind of love and affection that a man only ever receives from his mother.

It was strange how such a simple act of the slightest affection could make him feel that way. But it was also strange that Nesta seemed to find his injury grounding. When Hill walked into their rooms, he thought she would startle since she was very engrossed with his hand. Instead, Nesta looked up when she noticed Hill put the tea down next to her, and then listed the supplies for the things she needed.

Hill looked as surprised as he felt, but she quickly gathered all the supplies. “Do you need any help with anything? I can clean Cassian’s hand while you… Drink your tea,” Hill said, looking at Nesta with her eyebrows raised.

Nesta didn’t respond; she instead went still. “It’s quite alright, Hill. I think my wife can handle it. You can retire for the night now. We’ve taken up enough of your time,” Cassian said with a smile. He gave Hill a meaningful stare, wanting her to get out. If his wife was comfortable dealing with his bloodied hand, then he certainly would not pass the opportunity up.

Hill left with a small shake of her head, likely knowing exactly what Cassian was thinking. Then again, Hill most likely thought there would be more going on tonight than just Nesta dealing with his injury.

Nesta worked in silence, but it was clear from her actions that she was an expert at cleaning wounds. She picked out the glass pieces and put them into a cloth. Thankfully, There were only two fairly small glass pieces and they had not dug into anything important. It seemed that most of the damage had been done when he had punched the glass window, which was to be expected with his poorly wrapped hand. Perhaps he should not have moved quite so hastily, but he was far too worried about Nesta to care.

Once Nesta was sure his hand was clear of glass, she dipped another cloth into the bowl of water that Hill had provided, and gently cleaned his hand. Once the hand was clean and Nesta could inspect the wounds properly, she assessed that the cuts were not bad enough to warrant stitches. Cassian was glad to hear that news because although he was able to grit his teeth through the pain, he shuddered at the sight of a needle ready to sew his skin together. He could stomach it, but barely, and would rather drink some poppy syrup. He didn’t really want his wife to see him in that kind of state.

Nesta wrapped his hand gently, smoothing down the bandages as though she was caressing his hand. He wished he could feel her caress on his skin. His longing was interrupted by Nesta.

“You’ll need to keep it clean and change the bandage too. I do feel that we should perhaps get it checked over just in case the cut is deeper than it seems, or worse still if any glass remains.” Nesta said, looking at him with concern.

“I think perhaps it is too late to call on the doctor without it being an emergency, but I promise that I will get it checked tomorrow.”

Nesta nodded and then moved away from him to sit back in her chair properly. She slumped down, as though the toll of the day was physically weighing her down. They sat there in silence for a while, Nesta staring into the distance, Cassian watching her subtly.

Eventually, Nesta stood up. “It’s late, and I think I’ll get ready for bed, if that’s alright with you, your Grace?”

Cassian ignored the way she still asked for his permission. He didn’t have the energy to fight that particular battle right now, not after the night they’d had. He simply nodded and watched as she quickly scurried away into her dressing rooms.

\\\///

Cassian had hoped that his fitful night’s sleep would fix everything, but he had known deep down that he was being foolish. When he woke the next morning and looked at his wife’s tired face, he knew that the previous night’s events had taken its toll on both of them more than he had hoped. He felt like he was fumbling and had no idea how he could fix this mess.

Nesta seemed intent on carrying on with her day as though everything was normal. She went to her refuge, the library, even though she looked ready to drop. She asked for her breakfast to be taken to the library. Claude was thrilled, saying that it was a sign that she was feeling more comfortable making more demands. Cassian wasn’t so sure but didn’t want to say anything to make things worse. Plus, if he made Claude sad, the whole household would feel the effects of a sad Claude, and that was truly something to fear.

Cassian worried about his wife. Her resilience was something he admired greatly, but he wished she didn’t need to be this way. He wished he knew how to talk to and comfort her, especially after seeing the fear in her eyes when she was with Philip. He didn’t want to be a traditional, stern husband who barely spoke to his wife. He wanted his wife to rely on him, to be able to talk to him and tell him how she feels and what she thinks.

Nesta seemed perpetually terrified of everything, and he sometimes felt like she was probably afraid of her own shadow. The way she had looked at Philip was different though. Something had happened to make her scared of him. The problem was Nesta was not likely to confide in Cassian about these things, and unless she did so, he couldn’t reassure her that nothing like that happened to her again. But for her to believe that she would have to trust him, and Cassian knew she didn’t. He didn’t blame her, but it hurt a little.

Cassian tried his best to leave Nesta to her own devices, but it was no use. His mind was constantly occupied by worries for her, wondering if she was okay, and a week after the party he was close to his breaking point. He had to ask Jacob to repeat himself on multiple occasions, but Cassian was just thankful that Jacob hadn’t commented on his lack of focus.

When Jacob had suggested that perhaps the problem with the tenants could wait until tomorrow, Cassian had felt grateful that he was being given an out. It was too soon after the chaos of yesterday for him to be able to carry on as normal. His tenants would survive one day without him.

Cassian didn’t instantly want to go running to the library to see what Nesta was doing, worried that she would find him smothering. It was difficult for him because all Cassian wanted to do was check on his wife, spend time with her and get to know her. The fear of alienating his wife was the only thing that made him go see Claude in the kitchens instead.

“Cassian, what are you doing here? Surely you know better than to come into Claude’s territory unannounced!” Matthew said.

Cassian smiled at the young man, who, braver than most in his household, had volunteered when Claude had needed an assistant in the kitchens. Even Hill had shuddered at the thought of working in the kitchens with Claude.

Matthew was either very brave or very stupid, and Cassian truly could not tell which one it was. He had volunteered to work with Claude, which was a first. Even Claude had been shocked since the cook was nothing if not self-aware of his tyranny in the kitchen.

“I promise not to touch anything. I was just wanting some company,” Cassian said, holding his hands up in surrender.

Now it was Matthew’s turn to laugh. “And I suppose you seeking Claude out has nothing to do with how he sits with your wife. Your wife is quiet, but Claude manages to bring out the chatty side of her.”

Cassian had no clever response for that. He knew he had been caught. He smiled bashfully, and just shrugged, looking for Claude so he could talk to him. Matthew, knowing how these things work by now, simply informed him that Claude was outside and left them to it.

Cassian walked outside to see Claude in his garden patch. Claude was a big believer that if you could do it yourself, you should, and so he grew many fruits and vegetables himself. It was yet another reason why Claude was one of the best chefs in Velaris.

“Let me guess, you need my help to woo your wife,” Claude said, not looking up from his thorough inspection of his carrots.

Cassian spluttered, trying to come up with a way to sound less pathetic, but there was no way to achieve that. In the end, he gave up, took a deep breath and said, “I think I messed up.”

That made Claude look up in an instant, and a heart-stopping glare came his way. “What on earth have you done now? I should’ve known not to trust you with her alone. You’re such a brute. You have no idea how to treat a real lady,” Claude huffed in annoyance.

“Honestly Claude, if you can tell me what I did and tell you how to fix it, I’ll owe you forever,” Cassian said, running his hands through his hair. That made Claude pause. He knew Cassian well enough to know when things were serious.

“Tell me everything that happened.”

“It was all going really well, we danced, and she was smiling so much. I’ve not seen her that happy before. I could finally see some real emotions from her, not the ones she wears as a mask.” he sighed, thinking back to how radiant Nesta had seemed in the ballroom. It had been a moment where Cassian believed they could be happy together. They would work through whatever demons Nesta was fighting, and they would be able to be happy.

“It’s probably my fault things went wrong. I was talking to the others, and Nesta got up. I don’t know where she went or who she spoke to. You know how mercenary those women can be. I should’ve prepared her better. We all should’ve. But then Adelaide told me Nesta was in distress and she needed me. I went to the room I thought she was in and Ianthe told me-”

“Ianthe? What did that snake want?” Claude spat. Ianthe was not popular with his friends and family, especially considering how she had tried to integrate herself into their group. Cassian decided it would be best to keep the details of their interaction to a bare minimum, or his life might end up in danger.

“The usual, but that’s not the worst of it Claude. Nesta ran into Philip Mandray,” Cassian revealed.

“Fuck!” Claude exclaimed.

“My thoughts exactly. I have no idea what he said to her, Claude. They couldn't have been alone for more than two minutes before I got there, but it was enough for him to say something that troubled her. The colour had all drained away from her face, and I was worried she was about to faint. She looked so unwell.”

“Did you talk to her about it?”

“At the time I was too focused on getting her home, it had all clearly been too overwhelming for her and then seeing Philip was just too much for her.”

“And what about since then? The next day did you try?”

“Claude, I know you don’t believe me when I say this, but I swear, I’m not actually an idiot. I’ve tried to broach the subject so many times, but she either leaves the room or changes the subject. Last night she even pretended to have fallen asleep, even though I could see her peeking to see if I had gone to sleep! I don’t know what else I can do.”

Claude’s angry expression melted away to sadness. “I’m not sure what I can suggest either, Cassian. I know she talks to me, but that doesn’t mean she’s open with me. In fact, she’s only ever talkative when asking me questions about my cooking. If I try to bring up other subjects she’s the same as when she talks to anyone else.”

“I don’t know what to do, Claude. At this point, I don’t even need her to open up to me. If she’s happier with me not knowing, that’s fine, but the problem is, Nesta won’t talk to anyone about what happened to her while married to Tomas. She won’t open up to her sisters, and she doesn’t seem to have any friends. It’s not healthy! The only thing that’s keeping me sane is that she seems to be happy in the library. I try to stay out of there as much as I can because it now feels like I’m encroaching on her safe space, but I worry about her being alone all the time.”

The two let the silence stretch on them until Matthew came out. “My goddess, it's miserable out here. What happened, did you two argue again?”

“No, we’re just worried about Nesta,” Claude said.

“Why?”

“She doesn’t talk to anyone and we’re worried that bottling things up is making her ill,” Claude explained.

“Well, has anyone else talked to her about their own struggles?” Matthew asked.

“What do you mean?” Cassian asked with a frown.

“Well, we all know what the Mandray house is rumoured to be like, so I understand your concern. The duchess does not act in a way that could be considered normal, but I’m sure she’s aware of that herself. Everyone who tries to get her to open up is doing so out of concern, but they don’t understand her. I don’t want to step out of line here, but is there anyone who she could relate to? Someone who’s been in a similar situation so she can see she’s not alone?” Matthew spoke as Claude and Cassian looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Why, Matthew, you’re a genius!” Claude leapt up and hugged the man, startling Matthew. “Of course, she isn’t going to feel comfortable talking to us!”

“You’re right, but who could she possibly feel comfortable with?” Cassian asked, unwilling to let himself get excited about something when he had no idea how to carry out the admittedly good idea.

At that moment, a boy called out for Cassian, and it was like he had been sent from someone up above as an answer to their question.

“I’m really sorry, Mr Duke sir, but me and my sister were playin’ out by the front with a ball, and I think we broke a window, sir. It was my fault, sir, I’m terribly sorry,” the boy said, trembling in front of him, but making eye contact nevertheless. Cassian would guess the boy was no older than 6 or 7 years old.

Claude let out a chuckle, startling the boy. “No need to worry about Cassian when it comes to broken windows Arthur. Cassian has probably broken every window in this place at some point or another.”

The boy, Arthur, looked from Claude to Cassian cautiously. “Why don’t you take me to where you were playing and show me what happened?” Cassian asked, gesturing to the boy to lead the way. It looked like that was the last thing he wanted to do, but clearly, Arthur felt like he had no choice.

“Of course, sir,” he said, resigned to his fate clearly.

“So, your mother is Eleanor, correct?” Cassian questioned, having finally been able to place the boy.

“Yes, sir, I’m the eldest. I have a little sister, Jane. She’s the one I was playing with, but it was all my fault, sir,” the boy sounded panicked, clearly worried his sister would get into trouble.

“It’s quite alright, Arthur. I know it’s hard to believe this, but I truly was a scoundrel when I was young. My mother used to despair when I played with my friends. Accidents happen, I’m just glad nobody was hurt.” The boy remained quiet, so Cassian attempted to change the subject. “Do you like living here?” He asked, not sure what other types of small talk he could make.

“Yes sir, I’m ever so grateful you took us in and allowed my mother to work for you. I ask you not to punish my mother or sister for something I did. I’ll take any punishment you give, sir.”

At that, Cassian frowned. “I won’t punish you, your mother or your sister for this, Arthur. It was an accident, and I believe you.” Cassian stopped in the middle of the path leading them to the front of the house. They were almost there, but Cassian felt he needed to clear things up with the boy. “I will never raise my hand against any of you. If anyone ever dares to do so, then you come to me or Jacob. Even if you have to disturb us, it is our duty to make sure people are safe.”

“I’m the man of the house. My job is to look after my mother and sister,” Arthur said, puffing his chest out to show Cassian importance.

“That’s a very big responsibility for someone so small, but I have no doubt in my mind that you do the job well,” Cassian said with a smile.

The boy’s shoulders slumped at that. “I only look small. I’m actually 10 years old!” The boy said frustratedly.

Cassian was shocked at that. The boy didn’t look big enough for 10. He was all skin and bones, but Cassian remembered how Eleanor had looked when she had first arrived here. The look of hunger was not something that went away easily. Eleanor had admitted to Cassian that she had run away from her husband, and she was worried about him finding them and wanting retribution, but she had never gone into any further detail. Cassian hadn’t needed details from her when he had seen how hungry she looked. In all honesty, the marks she bore were enough for him to know that Eleanor needed his help. The fact that she had come to enquire about a job in the stables despite not knowing anything about horses was also a testament to how desperate she was for money.

It had been lucky that Cassian had been thinking about the way he probably needed a lady’s maid, as he had recently agreed to marry Nesta. He knew Eleanor would be perfect for the role, so he took her and her children in with no questions.

He had seen the children around, and they seemed happy, but he didn’t realise how much the children had suffered at their father’s hand. It shocked him that a man could treat his own flesh and blood so poorly, but then again, if a man hit his wife, what morals could he claim to have?

“I know you are a brave young man, Arthur, and I’m sure you protect your mother and sister very well. Sometimes being young can help in these matters,” Cassian told the boy, who was frowning, studying Cassian.

“How?”

“Well, someone like my wife might feel more at ease around you compared to a grown man,” Cassian said, probing to see if the boy would take the bait.

“Your wife?” The boy asked curiously. “Is that the lady who is in the library?”

“Yes! You see, I wish there was a young man like you to keep an eye on her. That way, I’d know she’s safe without making her feel uncomfortable.” Cassian hesitated, wondering how much he should tell the boy. “You see, the man she was married to before was not very nice, and neither was his older brother. He was like your father, actually.”

At the mention of his father, Arthur looked angry. “I’ll make sure she’s safe from them all!” He declared angrily.

Cassan ruffled the boy’s hair affectionately. “I think she would appreciate some company in the library, especially with all those big heavy books. Perhaps when you have some spare time, you can help her?”

“Yes, of course!”

There was some commotion in the distance, reminding both of them of the broken window situation. “Oh, we’d best hurry to that window!”

They both rushed off and saw a little girl who Cassian assumed was Arthur’s sister Jane. Eleanor and Jacob had also turned up and were trying to comfort the little girl who was beside herself. The commotion had clearly attracted Nesta’s attention, as she hovered at the end of the path to her library, but she came no closer. She instead watched Cassian, probably to see what he would do. Cassian looked up at the window to see Hill already cleaning up the glass that had fallen inside.

“Is that all?” Cassian asked as he looked at the damage.

“Yes sir,” Arthur replied.

Cassian let out a laugh. “I had assumed it would be so much worse. That is only a small crack. I was assuming I would have to replace the whole window and the pane, the way you described it to me.”

“I can arrange for it to be fixed by tomorrow, Cassian, but in the meanwhile, Hill said she’d board up the hole. Is that alright?” Jacob asked. Cassian nodded.

“See, Janie, I told you there was nothing to worry about,” Arthur said, acting like he hadn’t been scared out of his mind to tell Cassian. Cassian decided to let the boy have this victory, though, as it stopped the little girl from crying.

As Arthur went over to comfort his sister, Eleanor came over to Cassian. “My lord, I can’t thank you enough. I will work unpaid until you have covered the costs of your window replacement,” she said in her quiet, gentle voice.

“Eleanor, I’m not going to do that. But you don’t have to worry about it anyway. Arthur has taken care of it all.” Eleanor looked at him curiously but said nothing, so Cassian elaborated. “He’s going to spend some time with Nesta, keep an eye on her, and keep her company. I’m worried about her, but your son has a good head on his shoulders, and I trust him.”

“Thank you, my lord,” Eleanor said, smiling as she watched her children talking animatedly to Jacob, trying to explain how the window broke. Jacob was in good humour and went along with their dramatics.

Cassian was well aware of his wife watching them from a distance, but he felt no need to try and rope her into this conversation. He was content that, finally, he might be able to bring her out of whatever she was going through. Watching the children, so innocent and full of joy, gave him hope. Their resilience reminded him that people could always come back from sadness, but sometimes they needed a little help.

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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 5 months

Text

Evanescence, ‘Fallen’ | The Album Story

RS: Listening back, it is striking just how bold and ambitious it is for a debut album. Not many bands come out with a full choir and string section on their first album. Did you have to fight for those elements at all?

AMY: “You know, it helps when you have something that you really want to do that you’re gonna fight for. But that you have the ability to do. If I had a crazy idea of Gregorian chants or an all-boys choir, something that I couldn’t actually make happen, it would be a lot harder, because we’re gonna spend all this money on finding somebody to create the sound and then find the team. At least with choirs, specifically, in high school I was the choir president. I loved choir, I was inspired by a lot of that old Celtic and Latin hymn stuff. And I took Latin. So I was like ‘I’ll write it, I’ll do everything, all you gotta do is help me put together a small team of vocalists, it’s not gonna be that expensive’. We can make this happen. I think just having the moxie, or whatever it is, to go ‘I’ll put this all together, all you have to do is just trust me artistically’. It’s still a fight. It was harder to fight for real strings, because that’s just expensive. That’s just something that cost a whole lot of money. But to me, that was so key to what our sound was. The whole idea was that it was if a heavy band with riff-driven, pop hooks could get in a head-on collision with a dark film score. If it didn’t have that film score part of it, it would have felt like so much was missing. I do remember having a discussion with the label about ways we can make it sound real with pads and stuff – they’re better than they used to be. But I just always said ‘No, whatever it is, we’re on the hook for it. In the end, I promise we’ll get the money paid back. We have to have real strings. It has to be real’. And then we ended up with David Campbell who is one of the absolute best in the industry for that, and we’ve had a lifelong, career-long partnership now that I’m so grateful for.”

RS: The ‘Bring Me To Life’ demo was the first taste people got of this reissue. It’s remarkable how fully formed that track already was even at that early stage.

AMY: “There’s probably 10 demos of that song. The label had fixated on it and decided it was going to be the single we were going to focus on. So it was just constantly changing, we felt like we were in this demo forever. But they all happened over the course of just a couple of years. So the very first demo, before the chorus was what it was, I don’t even know where that is. I don’t even have that. It started without the rap but also the ‘Wake me up inside’ part wasn’t there. It was the verses and the chorus was like…I could sing it for you but that’s not going to translate into your magazine. But the one you heard that’s on there was sort of in the middle. That wasn’t the last one.”

RS: It is still the song we know, it just needs a few tweaks. It’s interesting to be able to see the process behind that.

AMY: “I always remembered that little sample in the beginning that became the piano part. That was always still in my head because we listened to it so many times before making the song. We wanted the piano so it would be like a film score starting out.”

RS: How big a role did your cinematic influences play in creating the album?

AMY: “We were really inspired by film and would go to the movies all the time. Part of that is just the age we were in high school. But it also felt like research – ‘Donnie Darko’, ‘Edward Scissorhands’. It was like I was really learning from it. My favourite part about film was the music, not so much the soundtracks, that’s great too, but the score is what makes you know how to feel. There is a whole sub story going on underneath. You are feeling things that are deeper than just the words and actions of the characters. So that’s when I started getting really inspired. I wanted to be in a band, but I would really like to score film and was going to school for that when we got signed.”

RS: ‘Everybody’s Fool’ is a track you have discussed a lot in the past. It seems to express some frustrations around the idea of fame and success but, again, it was written so early in your career. Once you found that success, did the song take on any new meaning for you?

AMY: “At the time, I was the teenager, a big sister, and my siblings were younger in elementary school. My two little sisters, who are very close in age, were in their boyband and pop girl moment. I was like ‘Oh my god, you guys are totally dumb. Listen to real music, I’ll show it to you’. I was always trying to influence them with Green Day, and Nirvana songs that didn’t have horrible things in the imagery. But at the same time, like they were going through this time where it was not just about the stars but school cliques and what you look like seemed like a really big focus. Who liked you, all that stuff, everybody goes through that. I think what I really wanted to say was that what I respect is authenticity. That should be the thing that we’re trying to win, not the beauty contest. Just be yourself. But then, strangely, soon after I found myself in the spotlight really fast in a really big way where you are on a stage for people to just look at you and talk about you like an object and that was hard. That was a weird time for me, because I was really young and really never bought into all that. But when it’s happening to you on a really large scale, you can’t just tune it out and leave the cafeteria. You have to actually face it – ‘There’s my career, how do I be the most of myself and show all the parts of myself that I really want to be seen and not be misunderstood?’ I just felt really misunderstood. But I think the lesson really is that you have to keep on, look at yourself, look at your real friends and the people around you that really know you. Remember who you are apart from it. It’s always been good for me to take breaks from this. I don’t think I need to anymore the way that I did. I know who I am. I know we’re gonna be here. But it was always important for me to step away and go ‘I’m not Amy Lee. I’m just Amy still’. I still have hold of my identity which is ever changing. It still has room to grow. I’m not stuck as that album cover picture forever, even though that is still a perception in probably millions of people’s minds. So you just have to give yourself the freedom to keep growing.”

RS: In terms of what may come next from you, how has looking back and reflecting on your early days affected how you want to move forward?

AMY: “I think it’s always a positive thing to remember your roots, even if it just means you’re going to branch really, really far away for them and do stuff that you’ve never done. I think you have to know who you are and know where you’ve been, because this is just the next chapter in that story. I’ve been doing that all year to where I just kind of never want to hear it again. Not really, but it’s definitely a little bit of what I said before about recognising those innocent moments where I’m not trying to be ahead of somebody’s criticism or anything. Write something without feeling any fear. That’s really sweet. I don’t know how I could recreate that. It’s hard to say because I dearly, dearly love our band, my guys and now Emma (Anzai, bassist). I’m most interested to hear what her new dynamic brings into the situation when we get together. I’ve wanted to be in a band with her for a really long time and it just finally worked out.”

#amy lee #evanescence #2023 interviews

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f1-stuff · 10 months

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yes, charlos is adorable and cute and all

but they’re also so real and raw, if you get what i mean

like they’re bound to get into arguments and misunderstandings bcz they are rivals/competitors on the track to an extent esp since they’re teammates too

but they obviously have so much admiration and appreciation and love for one another and that’s what makes their bond so strong and true and i absolutely love it.

and i love that that’s how you write them, they’re so real and raw in your fics and that’s the best thing about them <3

ahhh thank you! I really appreciate that, although I often feel I go a rather 'fluffy' direction in my fics, but I almost can't help it when I write lol

I agree with you tho - they definitely have their arguments I'm sure, but I think they're both very good at compartmentalizing and separating what happens on track vs. off, and yet they're able to work together when the need arises. They respect one another a lot, which shows in many ways, but particularly how charles always makes a point to call carlos 'fast' when giving him compliments, and praise how he works and his values. And carlos, literally from the very beginning, has praised charles for being one of, if not the best, qualifiers on the grid, and has always held him up as a benchmark for how he, himself, can improve.

Just found this quote and it's very relevant: "Laurent Mekies felt the partnership between Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc was “deeper than being friends. The level of respect, the level of desire to work together, the level of trust in both as characters and in technical abilities, is huge.”"

And then, of course, is how much they make each other laugh, and how they literally refuse to name one or the other as 'funnier' (I find this incredibly endearing and will keep bringing it up). They've been asked so many times, usually during games/interviews where they've blatantly flattered themselves in their answers, and yet every time, they both get all quiet and bashful and just say that they both make each other laugh........😑

Anyway I'm feeling emo about them today I guess

#today and every day tbh #anon #ask #charlos

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bimrsadler · 1 year

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could you do an f!reader who is wealthy and actually decides to become patron to the gang, letting them stay at their manor on the outskirts of Saint Denis? she asks for a personal guard in turn, which she asks High Honor Arthur to fill the role of. She's tiny, petite even (like 4'9"-ish) and very femme but with a sharp, elegant tongue.

she likes to hang out with Arthur and show him the wealthy side of life while he shows her the lifestyle of being out in the country. All the tensions and staring of a rich, unmarried lady out with a rugged outlaw of man? Perfect bait. 👀

Fluffy or NSFW or just sexual tension is okay! Feel free to go all kinds of ways with this if you do take the rq, ty!! Love your work!!

Fortune Favors the Bold

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female reader

Word count: 4,600

Warnings/tags: nsft, use of guns/light violence, high honor Arthur, fluff, mutual pining, unprotected piv, dirty talk, size difference, use of pet names

Notes: you gave me a lot to work with anon so I decided to just have fun and make this a longer one, sorry it took a bit but I hope it’s what you were looking for!

Walking around Saint Denis it was hard not to feel eyes on you wherever you went, you were an odd couple after all.

Couple. It wasn’t a word you ever thought you’d use to describe you and Arthur Morgan. Truthfully you weren’t an actual couple; not in the literal sense anyway, but you did enjoy a partnership of sorts and it felt comfortable enough to call him your friend.

As you explored the streets together your differences could not be any clearer, the sun glinted off the gold around your neck while the only gleam on Arthur was off the cold steel of his revolver.

An air of grace and elegance followed you wherever you went, wealth represented in your high end dresses.

The man at your side the complete opposite.

An air of intimidation and ruggedness followed Arthur, worn clothing indicative of his rough lifestyle.

And of everything about him you found yourself inexplicably drawn to, it was the fact that he towered over you that was most alluring.

Being of high status and short stature — you were an easy target. Meeting the Van der Linde gang for the first time was nerve wracking to say the least, knowing that if they wanted to harm you they could in no time.

But the man who introduced himself as Arthur Callahan with the badge on his vest was clearly not a real deputy, and knowing of the Grays and Braithwaites; you weren’t particularly upset at their scheming.

Before Arthur and Dutch could warn you not to tell anyone — you proposed working together instead.

While they were no doubt dangerous criminals, they were more understanding than you expected and most of the gang fun to be around. Leery of you at first, they knew it was advantageous to have someone of your status on their side, and found there was more to you than how you presented on the outside.

While your family was away, you offered the manor as a safe-house for the gang and they gave you Arthur in return. It would take a lot of bold stupidity to make an attempt on you when a man like him was by your side.

It wasn’t unusual to get curious men asking what a woman like you was doing with a man like Arthur, to which you would warn them to mind their own business. And if they were more brash than curious? Well it didn’t take long for them to learn their mistake when Arthur came over.

Not everyone looked at Arthur like he didn’t belong though. Outlaw or not, he was arrestingly attractive; pulling in wandering eyes from the upper and lower class alike.

People always seemed pleasantly surprised at how well mannered he was as well, greeting passerby’s with a hat tip and a “ma’am,” listening to strangers stories and stopping to pet street dogs. Really since you’d met — he was primarily only a threat to those who were a threat to you.

The two of you grew curious about each other, with your lifestyles and upbringings being so different. Everything about the gang was exciting to you and you cautiously wanted to explore it. Arthur had a harder time admitting he was interested in what your side of life had to offer and felt uncomfortable with how foreign it felt.

But you caught him eyeing the beautiful things in your home, letting his fingertips glide along the piano keys, smirking at the expensive weapons mounted and fine whiskies.

It was the art that he took a particular interest in however. He was shy about it at first, gazing at the framed paintings on the walls wanting to know more about them but too nervous to inquire.

So you would stand beside him and tell him the history of it, of the artist, as he stood scratching his beard intently listening.

“Hmm,” he’d mumble dryly — trying to downplay his curiosity but giving himself away by quickly pointing to the one beside it, “and how ’bout this one?”

Arthur never felt fully comfortable in fancier settings but you loved bringing him to dinners and plays with you. When he lost himself in the dishes and dramas meant for the higher class, he fully enjoyed himself.

You never felt at ease in those situations either though, always needing to show a performative smile and appear proper was exhausting. So after the parties you would surprise Arthur by asking him to take you to a saloon or maybe just a stroll in the woods, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Arthur was hesitant when you asked to take trips with him however; worried you didn’t understand what you were getting into.

“No offense Miss but I don’t think ya know what yer askin’.”

“I may be rich but I’m not dumb — Mister.” You said with a sarcastic hiss. “I’d like to learn.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and agreed reluctantly, clearly assuming you would just be deadweight.

But you were a quick learner, and you enjoyed it.

It was exhilarating learning to shoot and skin, and much to Arthur’s surprise you had no qualms about looting with him or being the lookout on a job.

Your favorite nights however were the ones under the stars and beside the crackling fire. You would take the sounds of the slow moving river and rustling pines over the ramblings of relatives whose only talking points were property prices and fine China, any day.

A truth you were anxiously coming to terms with was the fact that you also loved all of this because of Arthur. You could spend hours listening to the husky timbre of his voice excitedly tell you the stories that only a Hell-raising outlaw could.

And yet he was just as enrapturing while sketching quietly or baby-talking his horse as he brushed and fed it.

This evening in Saint Denis was the culmination of all of those nights of curiosity and company.

You had woken up early that morning, Arthur journaling on the couch as you approached him.

“I have an idea cowboy.”

He closed his journal and raised an eyebrow.

“You guys still need money right? Well you and I could make a killing in Saint Denis…”

Arthur sighed and closed his journal, “meanin’?”

“Without you on my arm I’m an easy target in the wrong part of town. You could hang back and I could just draw them out,” you raised your eyebrows excitedly.

Arthur stood up waving his arms in the air, “absolutely not. You crazy woman?!”

“First of all, we would make a good team. Second, do not call me ‘woman’.”

Arthur seemed to take your scolding to heart, shoulders slumping slightly. “Sorry…”

Walking over to you with a softer tone he continued, “just wouldn’t forgive myself if somethin’ happened to ya. I know yer capable but…these things can be unpredictable.”

“Maybe so, but I trust you. Now c’mon Arthur, live a little,” you teased with a wink.

That was all it took, though he continued complaining about going against his better judgment.

Dolling yourself up in your finest that evening, you stood in front of the mirror — scared and excited.

Arthur came in slowly after a delicate knock. In the reflection you caught him pausing at the sight of you, eyes roaming and expression softening.

“You uh…ya ready?”

“Almost, I just…can’t get this necklace to clasp,” you laughed nervously.

“Oh uh…well lemme help then…”

Arthur’s boots were heavy on the floor but his approach was slow and considerate. Handing him the necklace, he draped it around your front, cold metal brushing against you.

The combination of his warm and broad chest hovering against your back with his calloused fingertips ghosting along the skin of your neck, brought forth goosebumps you hoped he wouldn’t notice.

Watching in the reflection, a slight tremble kept him from joining the two sides of the necklace. “Damn fingers are too big,” he chuckled bashfully.

“It’s okay,” you spoke quietly with a reassuring smile.

Finally it clasped together, the emerald jewel coming to a rest at the swell of your cleavage. Before Arthur stepped back, his knuckles lingered on the nape of your neck as he dragged a fingertip along the golden filigree.

“So…would you steal this from me Arthur?”

“Well, you’d definitely catch my attention,” he said warmly before stepping back.

Trying not to read into Arthur’s response, you absentmindedly adjusted in front of the mirror. “Haven’t worn this dress yet, wasn’t sure if I liked it…”

“Why? Y’look beautiful,” Arthur stated.

You felt a flutter spread in your chest and stomach while watching him fumble with his gunbelt in the mirror.

“I uh,” he cleared his throat and motioned toward the door, “we should get goin’.”

All eyes were on you as your large bodyguard walked protectively by your side. You meandered through the city waiting for nightfall, listening to the street performers and perusing the shop windows.

As the sun dipped below the horizon you and Arthur made your way behind the saloon.

“Now you catch someone’s eye ‘n bring ‘em out here,” Arthur pointed to the dark of the alleyway, “I’ll be right down there.”

Clasping your shoulder with his bear paw of a hand he implored, “please be careful.”

“Always am Mr. Morgan,” you winked with a confident smile though your heart was racing.

You watched as he concealed the lower half of his face with a black bandana, leaving only his eyes to be seen under the wide brim of his hat.

Only in the faint light of the streetlamp did you realize that Arthur’s eyes were the same shade as the jewel around your neck. Your heart was pounding for more reasons than one.

The night wore on with the usual bothering from drunk and foolish men — mostly harmless, buying you drinks (that you only pretended to sip) and asking why you were alone.

You fiddled with your necklace and purse, making sure to draw any attention from types you wouldn’t want noticing.

And it did. A dirty and angry looking man in the corner caught your eye. He wasn’t drunk and he had been watching you closely for most of the night.

As the music and clamoring picked up in pace and volume you headed toward the swinging doors in the back; sure enough he followed in your peripheral.

Each second as you made your way into the alley became more and more urgent, heart pounding and sweat dripping while you kept your hand close to your purse — should you need to use the knife Arthur gifted you.

The man closed in quickly, not touching you yet but attempting to intimidate with his presence. “Better stop right there girl…”

Turning around slowly you looked at your mark. He was big — but not as big as Arthur.

“Ain’t anyone teach you not to be alone in places like this?” He sneered with an air of superiority.

You watched Arthur’s bulky frame come into view from behind the shadows, “who says I’m alone?”

The gun in Arthur’s hand pressed to the man’s temple, “ain’t anyone ever teach you to be a gentleman?”

Arthur chuckled darkly, “now…I’m gonna hand that gun in yer holster to the fine lady,” he pressed the revolver harder into the man’s head, making him flinch. “— an’ if ya try anything I’ll blow yer goddamn head off.”

Arthur’s voice was deep and dark and almost made you feel bad for the man, but mostly it stirred something within you.

After the gun was given to you, Arthur began rummaging through the pockets to find money and trinkets.

You knew what the two of you were doing wasn’t right either and Arthur was a bad man, but he was good to you and there was goodness inside of him.

And at that moment? Electricity surged through every inch of your body with exhilaration and you had trouble finding sympathy for a man who would corner a woman by herself.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?” The reality of the situation hit hard as a police officer stopped at the end of the alleyway — clearly seeing that it was Arthur robbing the man.

“Oh thank God you’re here officer!” You threw a shaking hand up to play the victim, “please help us!”

You felt terrible for the brief panic in Arthur’s darting eyes as he seemed unsure if you were betraying him.

It didn’t last though. Using your other hand you quickly pointed the gun you kept hidden from view and fired above the officers head.

Arthur understanding that it was a way to buy time, hit the man with the butt of his gun in an attempt to knock him out.

Swiftly grabbing your wrist he pulled you through the saloon, the drunk and confused patrons slowing down the cop in pursuit.

“The hell was that?!” Arthur demanded under his breath.

“Me trying to save our skins — you’re welcome!”

“I’ll thank ya if we make it outta here alive,” Arthur taunted as he found the closest horse to steal. He pulled you with no effort at all, your feet leaving the ground in the blink of an eye.

You wrapped an arm around Arthur’s tight core and pointed the gun behind you with the other, the galloping horse keeping you from a steady aim.

“Arthur where are we going?!”

“Jus’ hold on I’ll figure it out!”

Approaching a bridge you noticed that the view was partly obscured by willow trees, making it a good time as any to throw off the lawman.

Aiming to the best of your ability you shot behind you again, hoping to stall and not harm him. At that moment Arthur took a hard right into the grass and through the trees.

A proper lady’s place was not on the back of a horse with a wanted man, nor was it in a seedy alleyway with bad intentions. But there was nowhere else you wanted to be.

Nestling the gun in the saddlebag, you clung tightly to Arthur’s midsection and buried your face between his shoulder blades.

He was warm and strong and the wind in your hair cooler now, every sense heightened from the rush surging through you.

Slowing to a trot Arthur pulled to a grassy clearing and stopped. “Think we made it…”

He dismounted and grabbed you by the waist to help you do the same, bodies flush as your feet hit the ground.

“Wasn’t exactly a perfect heist but…you handled yerself well sweetheart.”

Arthur’s arms still hovered around you loosely as he spoke beneath his bandanna. His eyes searched yours as you brought your fingertips to his face.

Slowly, you removed what kept his lips from you and ran your thumb along his stubbled cheek. You admired the chestnut locks that fell carelessly along his brow and the way his broad chest heaved at your touch. All you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop kissing him.

“I feel like I could do anything right now Arthur…”

A smirk formed at the corner of his lips with an expectant raise of his eyebrows. Standing on your tiptoes your brought his face to yours for a slow, delicate kiss.

Though he looked dumbstruck and returned the gesture, he pulled back for a moment. “I want this but…I’m no good for ya girl. I’m only good at fightin’ and robbin’…you know that.”

“Bullshit Arthur.” The look on his face was priceless, seemingly more shocked to hear you swear despite just seeing you shoot at the law.

“Bullshit. You have goodness in you too and I’m a grown woman who knows what she wants.” Arthur watched you in disbelief.

“You’re good at protecting me and the way you touch me is kind and it makes me feel safe. I want you to keep touching me like that Arthur…”

A flicker of pride flashed on his face. The only time you could tell Arthur felt good about himself was when he helped others and he especially took a shine to helping you. Being a protector let him realize he was capable of being good at more than just robbing and fighting.

“Fair enough,” he said bringing you back in his embrace. “But I need to hear ya say it.”

“I want this Arthur, you have no idea,” your words were breathy and impatient.

His grip on you was tender but somehow still powerful despite not using any of his real strength. You felt positively tiny in his arms.

His mouth opened more for you, allowing curious flicks of your tongue on his; light whimpers combining. Hands began moving more hungrily — yours down his chest and his up your thigh.

Months prior you might have felt shame at the ache between your legs and the desire urging your hips forward; but now all you cared about was Arthur dousing that fire.

“Sweetheart it shouldn’t be like this…”

Your heart dropped, unsure of where he was going with that statement. “Wh— what do you mean?”

“Well I—look…” Arthur stuttered, trying to find the right words with a reddening face. “You deserve better’n layin’ in some grass in the woods like this.”

He paused to think and fiddle with his suspenders before continuing, “least lemme take ya back to the manor. Wanna make it, y’know…proper.”

You considered telling Arthur that you wanted it here, still riding the high of the night; being outside after barely escaping would only add to the thrill.

But Arthur didn’t want that. He wanted to treat you special and give you comfort and patience. He didn’t need to be the rugged outlaw anymore that night, he just needed to be your suitor.

You already got to play cops and robbers, maybe it was his turn to play the gentleman.

Sighing with relief you took Arthur’s hand, “well just so you know, here would be just fine with me.” Planting a reassuring kiss on his cheek you headed toward the horse, “but you can take me home.”

Arthur took a longer, more secluded route through the woods in case someone was still looking for you.

It wasn’t easy being patient, the tension palpable and the anticipation exquisite.

As you lurched forward with the horses gait you replayed the kiss and wandering hands in your mind.

You couldn’t wait to unbutton his shirt, to feel the curve of his muscle, to make him whine with the touch of your fingertips, and God you couldn’t wait to feel his on you.

You wanted him to squeeze you and mark you in every intimate place that was usually kept hidden. To thrust and curl and fill all of you.

Positioning yourself higher on the saddle you let your hands roam along his waistline and kissed the curve where his neck met his shoulder.

Arthur leaned his head, allowing you to kiss and nip at more of his sensitive skin. He responded with his rough hand grasping your calf. Ever so slowly it pushed up your dress and glided along your thigh.

Your hips instinctively rolled forward to the small of his back, Arthur kneading the fat of your thigh as your wetness grew.

It really wasn’t easy being patient.

You keened, “how much longer baby?”

“Jesus,” Arthur sighed while rolling his own hips at the air. “Gonna be there soon.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do to me Arthur…”

“’M’gonna take off that dress you look so goddamn gorgeous in and feel how soft y’are.”

“Gonna feel how soft I am everywhere?” You teased with a light bite to his ear.

Arthur grunted a yes, “gonna part them pretty legs and make ya feel good darlin’. You gonna be good’n wet for me?”

“Oh you could sink into me right this second Arthur.”

“My God girl,” Arthur said taken aback. “Never thought I’d hear ya talkin’ like that…”

“I’m full of surprises.” You snaked your hand down to his lap, lightly ghosting over his straining manhood. “And I see you’re ready for me.”

Arthur shuddered with a groan, “painfully so.”

Laughing together you continued teasing touches and lustful whispers until the manor came into view.

Arthur sent the horse off and though it was late, the two of you snuck in should any of the gang still be up.

As the doors of the bedroom closed behind you, Arthur lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist. Gently pressing you to a wall your kisses were passionate and rutting slow.

Carrying you over to the bed, Arthur sat you at the edge and positioned himself behind.

Though they trembled slightly with nerves, he moved with unhurried and adept hands; carefully untying and undoing each bit of your dress and corset.

Despite the prior buildup and desperation, Arthur worked with incredible consideration and care — making sure not to harm your dress and kissing and caressing all newly exposed skin.

As the last of the confines on your upper body fell down your shoulders, Arthur massaged a breast in each hand from behind, kissing your neck and whispering praises in your ears.

Moving to the floor he knelt in front of you, slowly rolling your stockings off each leg and kissing down your inner thighs as he did.

Bare before him you felt vulnerable and exposed in a way you never had been. But Arthur wasn’t like anyone else you’d been with.

Standing up he took you in with an awestruck smile, “how the hell did I get so lucky?”

Moving to unbutton his shirt you mused, “I could ask you the same question.”

Giving him the same affection and attention, your lips and hands explored with purpose — making sure he understood you loved his scars and the hair that dusted his chest and trailed down his abdomen.

You watched as he stepped out of his pants, eager to take his throbbing length in your hand. But before you could, Arthur gently layed you down, moving the pillow under your head as he did.

Running his hand through your hair he gazed sweetly, “feelin’ okay beautiful?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling him down. Settling beside you his hand dipped down to your heat, sliding along your wet folds before pushing a finger in.

A drawn out whine escaped from your lungs, finally getting the touch you needed.

Arthur let out an amused chuckle before bringing his mouth to your breast, twirling his tongue along the stiff peak and sucking it in his mouth. All while working your inner walls.

“Arthur,” you mewled, suddenly overwhelmed at all of the wonderful sensation.

“S’okay sweet girl,” sitting up slightly Arthur used his free hand to move one of yours to your mound. “Show me how ya touch yerself.”

You rubbed circles on your swollen nub, slick with the arousal from Arthur’s pleasuring. Even just the featherlight touch was enough to push you closer as you clenched around his large digits.

Arthur observed you with lust blown eyes, “that’s right sweetheart, let’s getcha there.” His breath was hot against your neck as he cooed in your ear, “be a good girl for me…”

That was all it took for your gut to tighten as Arthur made his way back down to your breast, eagerly sucking between praises while you came around his fingers.

He didn’t remove himself from you until the last of the quivers left your legs and your panting settled. “That’s my girl…”

Gathering your senses and coming back to reality, you gently urged Arthur onto his back and moved to get on top. Straddling his much wider lap was almost a strain.

But the feeling of the underside of his cock as your wet folds glided over the twitching hardness, quickly made any strain forgotten.

Arthur’s hands grasped your hips as you sunk onto him, taking him into your core with needy moans.

He let out a shaky exhale and a whisper of your name while stilling your hips from moving, “jus’…stay like this for a second.”

Reaching up to run his thumb over your lip he smiled warmly, “this has to be the closest to heaven I’ll ever get.”

“Quite the smooth talker there Mr. Morgan.”

He laughed sweetly in response, “nah I ain’t smooth. Jus’ sayin’ what’s true.”

“Well either way,” you writhed slightly, “I think I can get you a little closer to heaven tonight…”

Placing your hands on Arthur’s sturdy chest you began bouncing on his cock, watching as he became a beautiful, whimpering mess beneath you.

There was a pride and thrill in making a tough, some would say brutish man like Arthur melt for you.

“C’mere princess,” Arthur pulled you down flush to him, your breasts pressed tightly to his upper chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

Kissing you with fervor he bucked up into your heat, his much bigger frame completely enveloping you.

“How’s this darlin’?”

“So—fuck, so good.”

“Love hearin’ you swear fer me…”

“Maybe,” you choked out between thrusts, “you should fuck me harder then.”

A primal groan expelled hot breath against your ear as Arthur picked up pace, his hand palming the swell of your ass as it shook with impact.

His substantial hand moved to cover the back of your head, lightly pulling your hair. “You take me so well sweetheart — God, so warm ’n tight.”

Every pump of Arthur’s cock hit a spot that had scarcely been stimulated before, slick dripping down your thighs as he did.

Arthur placed his fingers around your soaked opening, feeling as he pistoned in and out. “We’re makin’ a mess outta these expensive sheets.”

He tenderly placed his hand on your jaw to move your face towards his, “but you like that…dont’cha?”

His gravelly drawl was sex and sin.

Taking his thumb into your mouth you simply moaned a response as your pussy clenched around him.

“Yeah you do…good girl…”

Talking himself into a frenzy, taut muscle twitched and stiffened as he grew closer, legs kicking slightly with shallow breaths.

“Christ m’close,” Arthur choked out as his grip on you trembled.

Swiftly sitting up you hopped off and pumped his pulsing cock as he swore and gasped and gathered the sheets in his tight fists.

“That’s it handsome,” you stroked his flexing thigh while hot spend dripped down your knuckles and shot onto his tight stomach.

Arthur made a good call coming back to the manor; the comfort of the soft linens and silks certainly felt heavenly to your spent bodies.

The sight of him nude and blissful in your bed was something you’d carry with you as well, and you hoped he enjoyed the rare indulgence of comfort.

Propping himself on his elbow, Arthur eyed you with admiration. “Hell of a night.”

“Oh? That’s not just a regular night for you?” You joked with a light giggle.

“Robbin’ an idiot in an alleyway? Sometimes,” he shrugged playfully. “But this?” He leaned down to press his lips tightly to yours. “This ain’t.”

“Ya know darlin’, you ain’t gonna be able to show yer face around them lawmen again,” he realized with a laugh.

“To be honest, I think I’m growing weary of Saint Denis. Was actually hoping I might explore a little more of the world,” you paused to look at Arthur with a coy smile, “ya know?”

“Hmm, I might be able to help ya with that.”

Whether you really could leave and whether Arthur would trust your judgment in making that choice remained to be seen.

But he was happy in that moment and so were you. The two of you together was a paradox, and despite this — or maybe because of, it worked.

All that mattered was Arthur’s strong presence above you as he played with your necklace; the only thing left on your body.

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