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victoria-daydreams · 4 months ago

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In Her Place, I Stand

Part I: Echoes of Her Shadow

AN: Woww guys I was not expecting this story to pop off like it did, but I'm glad everyone is enjoying it so far!!! I got so excited posting the first chapter I forgot to say I'll make a taglist if anyone is interested! Our sister Dorothea will be going through it in this chapter, but happy reading!

Trigger Warnings: none

Word Count: 7.5k (I went off apparently lol)

Part II: The Gilded Cage of Mourning

Each morning, Dorothea took her breakfast alone in the quiet solitude of the morning room. Afterward, she would spend her time, losing herself in the pages of a book, playing the pianoforte, or strolling the gardens with her botanical journal in hand, observing the flowers with Artemis at her side. This had become her routine since moving into the Harding residence. A monotonous existence, devoid of the vibrancy and purpose she once knew.

As the lady of the house, Dorothea managed the finances, oversaw the servants, and planned the meals, fulfilling her societal duties as a proper housewife. Yet, despite her best efforts, she remained merely a resident, not the mistress of this cold manor.

Dorothea was still not his wife.

She was little more than a household secretary in Friedrich's eyes. At least, according to his unspoken wishes, for he scarcely spoke to her to begin with. Countless times Dorothea attempted to engage him in conversation over the dinner table. Inquiries about his day, his business affairs, simple pleasantries, all met with only the briefest of responses, unintelligible murmurs, or, depending on his temperament, utter silence. Gradually, Dorothea learned to finish her supper with the barest of words exchanged between herself and her distant husband, or in complete, oppressive silence.

Last night's supper broke something within Dorothea.

In the brightly lit dining room, the only sounds that filled the air was the occasional clatter of cutlery and the ticking of a grandfather clock in the hall. Dorothea sat opposite of her husband whose face was etched with weariness.

"The chicken was quite flavorful this evening. Georg has outdid himself, hasn't he?" Dorothea commented, smiling brightly. A forced cheerfulness to her words.

Looking down at his plate, "It was…sufficient," Friedrich answered, his voice is low and flat.

Friedrich did not look up. A beat of silence passed and Dorothea's smile began to falter slightly, watching him with a mixture of concern and quiet desperation. Picking up her glass of wine, she drank deeply from it to summon the courage to continue the conversation.

"I was reading a rather curious account this afternoon, about the new railway line in the north," she began, trying to maintain her cheeriness from before. "There…" she trailed off, when Friedrich still does not meet her stare. Dorothea found herself nervously fidgeting with the edge of her napkin. "Or-or not about the railway. How was your day at the shipyard? Did Herr Franz have any further news regarding the new ships?" she inquired.

Without looking up, Friedrich let out a drawn-out sigh. The sound struck Dorothea like a dagger to the heart.

"The same, it's complicated,"

"Yes, well, these things often are, I suppose. Sometimes it helps to talk about them. To…to share the burden," she hinted, mouth curved into a small, hopeful smile.

This time he did look up. His gaze flitting to her face, almost noting the vulnerability in her expression, but then he quickly looked away. "Share the burden? You cannot…you do not understand," he dismissed.

The silence returned, heavier now. Dorothea's smile faltered before fading completely.

"I know I can never truly understand, Friedrich. But I can offer…I can offer an ear, a hand, a shoulder, perhaps," she suggested, her voice cracking slightly on the last word.

"Dorothea, must you?" he asked, his hand clenching around his fork, his knuckles turning white.

Dorothea inhaled sharply at the sound of her name, goosebumps prickling her arms. Friedrich so rarely addressed her directly.

"Must I what, Friedrich?" she asked, her voice thick with trepidation.

Finally, he lifted his gaze, his dark and tired eyes fixed intently upon her.

"Must you continue this charade? This incessant striving for companionship?" His words carried a tone of exasperation.

Dorothea's shoulders slumped, a lump forming in her throat before swallowing hard.

"I-I only wish to be your wife, Friedrich," she said, her voice trembling. "We are married. We should at least try to—"

With a sudden motion, Friedrich rose from his chair, the harsh scrape of wood against floor and the clatter of his plate against the table startling Dorothea and causing her to flinch.

"You are my wife!" he snapped, his fist coming down on the table, hard. "And that is precisely the problem, Dorothea!" he hissed, the coldness in his voice tearing her up on the inside. "You are provided for, housed, and respected. Is that not enough?" he argued.

Tears welled in her eyes, "I-I wish for more than that, for the both of us," Dorothea said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want to be a comfort to you. A partner. I want to share our lives, together," she wished, reaching out her hand halfway across the table, but then letting it drop back into her lap.

Friedrich turned from her, avoiding her eyes as he strode towards the door, his body rigid. Pausing at the threshold with his back still to her, the oil lamps cast long shadows that seemed to embody the heavy weight of his unyielding grief, which settled upon her like a shroud.

"Then, you wanted something impossible. I never asked for this. I asked for peace. For them," Friedrich said pointedly, his voice low and rough, almost a whisper. "We are married because it was the proper thing to do. Because, I needed a wife to run the household, and you were…suitable. Let's not give this grander attributes than it warrants," he stated, his voice hardening.

"Suitable?" Dorothea echoed, her voice wobbling. "Is that all I am, Friedrich?" she questioned, letting out a tearful exhale.

He didn't respond, exiting the room and leaving Dorothea sitting alone at the table. She stared at the doorway, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as the silence that followed was heavy and cold, punctuated only by the crackling of the fireplace.

Dorothea had always been adept at concealing her emotions, a necessary skill given her skin color in the world she inhabited. Beneath her well crafted mask, she harbored a wellspring of deeper feelings that she carefully guarded, revealing them to no one, lest she be seen to break or falter. But tonight, that carefully constructed facade threatened to crumble, as everything seemed to be unraveling for Dorothea.

The clock had long since struck midnight, perhaps nearing the early hours of the morning, when she first began to weep. She could not pinpoint the precise reason for her sudden anguish, try as she might. The fateful supper from hours earlier now but a distant memory. Yet now, sitting upright in the solitude of her dark bedchamber, the unbearable weight of her grief and longing had become a palpable presence, impossible to ignore.

The tears Dorothea had held back all evening now flowed freely, streaming down her face. Her breath came in quick, uncontrollable gasps, her chin quivering as she tried in vain to hold back the flood of despair that battered against her control like a rising tide. Clutching her chest desperately, she was unable to breathe, trying to muffle her anguished sobs with her blanket, but to no avail. A few small, mournful cries escaped into the quiet, moonlit night.

~~~x~~~

As the sun's first rays filtered through the curtains, Dorothea found herself once again in the morning room, the place where she spent most of her time. After finishing her coffee, which Georg thoughtfully had accompanied with an extra slice of rich, decadent cake; no doubt an attempt to lift her spirits after learning of the distressing events from the previous evening. Dorothea sat at the pianoforte. Her fingers moved listlessly across the keys, playing a piece by Mozart. Dorothea's puffy, tired eyes were fixed on the sheet music rather than the keys, the dark circles beneath them prominent

The soft, lilting notes of the piano drifted through the room as Dorothea's fingers danced across the keys. Sensing a presence at the door, she glanced up from the sheet music only to find Friedrich standing just inside the doorway, dressed in a crisp morning coat. Dorothea's breath caught, and she involuntarily struck a particularly discordant chord, as a small, almost silent breath escaped her lips.

He cleared his throat softly, "Dorothea," he said, his expression guarded.

Dorothea's fingers falter for a moment on the keys, but she doesn't turn toward him. She resumed playing, a fraction faster now, the notes harsher than before.

"Good morning, Friedrich," she greeted, her voice was flat, almost toneless.

"The servants seem to be in a flurry this morning," he observed, stepping further into the room.

His gaze bore into her from the periphery, his eyes drawn to the dark shadows and puffiness that marred the delicate skin beneath her own. Dorothea lifted her chin slightly, her posture issuing a silent challenge. She knew he could see the toll the restless night had taken.

"Oh, you noticed that did you?" she replied, a hint of sarcasm in her words. Without looking away from the piano, Dorothea saw Friedrich bristle at her tone. "Liese, my sister, arrives this afternoon to visit," she explained, her fingers gliding gracefully over the ivory keys. "My prayers have finally been answered," she muttered, under her breath.

"As it happens, I am expecting a guest of my own," Friedrich informed her, his voice carefully neutral. "Herr Hutter is planning to call on me," he added.

Dorothea's fingers stop abruptly, clenching on the keys, silencing the melody. A vein pulsed in her forehead.

"And, pray tell, why you did not inform me of this in advance?" she asked, turning on the piano stool and finally facing him. "I would have told the servants to prepare the house for more than one guest," she said. "Is it your intention to have Herr Hutter think I'm derelict in my duties as your wife?" she questioned, a hint of accusation in her voice.

"No, that is not my intention at all," he responded, his jaw hardening. "Though, I made mention of his upcoming visit to you, I am certain of it," he added tightly.

Dorothea scoffed quietly, "And when was this communicated to me, hmm?" she wondered. "Was it through your grunts and one word answers over supper every night?" she quipped.

The muscles in Friedrich's jaw tightened, and a flurry of emotions flickered across his brooding countenance. His dark brows furrowed, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly, and a glimmer of what might have been fondness danced in his gaze. She was uncertain whether her tone amused or vexed him, he regarded her with a conflicted expression. She braced herself, anticipating his response to her brazen defiance, aware that her bold tongue would have earned the sting of a slap from any other man.

"Frau Harding,"

Dorothea and Friedrich's gazes snapped to Sofie as she suddenly materialized in the doorway. Sofie's eyes widened, slowly realizing she had intruded upon a heated moment between the two.

"What is it Sofie?" Dorothea asked, her voice tinged with a trace of annoyance at the interruption

"Your sister's coach is approaching," Sofie informed, her tone respectful yet nervous.

Dorothea's expression softened, "Lovely, thank you. I'll be outside to welcome her shortly," she replied.

"Frau Harding, Herr Harding," she acknowledged, with a deferential nod before quietly slipping away.

Dorothea rose from the bench, intent on slipping past Friedrich, when his hand shot out, his fingers curling around her bicep and halting her movement. She turned her head, locking eyes with his profile, her gaze darting between his hand and his impassive face. Dorothea held her breath, waiting for him to acknowledge the distress he had inflicted upon her the night before.

"Something else you wish to tell me?" Dorothea asked, a glimmer of hope flickering in her eyes, though she knew she shouldn't have allowed it.

For a moment, Friedrich seemed to look through her, his expression unreadable as he waged an internal battle, as if struggling to find the words - to apologize. But the vulnerability was fleeting, his demeanor quickly reverting to its usual cold disposition.

"What else is there to say?" he responded, his tone icy. "Just be on your best behavior while we have guests in our home," Friedrich said, a thinly veiled command.

Dorothea's lips curled in a scornful scoff, her eyes narrowing at her husband's words.

"You hardly know me well enough to know what my best behavior looks like," she retorted, the disdain in her tone evident.

With a defiant tug, Dorothea ripped her arm from his grasp and stormed past him, purposefully knocking into his arm as she left the room in a whirl of fury.

~~~x~~~

Within an hour of her arrival, Liese all but demanded that her younger sister take her to the nearby beach, just a short coach ride from the Harding estate. Dorothea eagerly granted her wish, jumping at the chance to escape the confines of the manor. The sun beat down on the pale sand, warming Dorothea's face as she and Liese strolled along the shoreline, their long skirts billowing behind them. Arm in arm, the two young women's melodious laughter filled the air along with the rhythmic crash of the waves against the shore. After days of dreary weather, the sunny sky was a welcome reprieve and offered a fleeting sense of peace, but the turmoil in Dorothea's heart remained.

"I think you brought this beautiful weather along with you," Dorothea joked, turning to look at her half-sister.

The wind whipped at their bonnets, carrying the tang of salt and the cries of gulls.

"Happy to be of service," Liese replied with an illuminating grin. "You know, I do envy you sister," she confessed, with a sigh. "You live so close by to the beach and can visit it whenever you want to," she pointed out.

"I haven't had the opportunity to take advantage it until now," Dorothea explained, which Liese hummed at.

Glancing at her sister, Dorothea couldn't help but admire Liese's radiant appearance. It had been far too long since they last saw each other. Liese's rich, brown hair was elegantly styled into Apollo knots, and her cheeks retained the same rosy hue Dorothea remembered from their childhood. Perhaps Liese's complexion had even grown rosier since her marriage. And her sparkling gray eyes shone with evident contentment. Her heart swelled with a complex mix of admiration and resentment towards her sister's seemingly perfect life.

"Marriage continues to agree with you, I see," Dorothea remarked, a hint of wistfulness in her tone.

"It truly does," Liese answered, a pleased smile gracing her features. "Although, I would be remiss not to mention my Christoph and Anneke as the primary sources of my joy," she added proudly.

Dorothea's brows involuntarily furrowed as she looked ahead, "If only we were all so fortunate in marriage," she said, a trace of bitterness creeping into her voice.

Dorothea's mind drifted back to an hour prior, when Liese had made a similar observation about her, though in the opposite direction.

Standing outside the manor's grand entrance, Dorothea and Friedrich waited as Liese's coach rumbled up the driveway. Their servants stood at the ready, poised to assist their new guest. Dorothea's heart raced with desperate anticipation, her gaze fixed on the coach as it came to a stop. The chauffeur hurried to the door, opening it with an audible pop, and Liese emerged in all her elegant splendor, stepping down onto the gravel drive. With graceful strides, Liese glided over to Dorothea, her arms outstretched.

"Oh, my dear Dottie!" Liese cried delightedly, her arms enveloping Dorothea in a tight embrace. Dorothea grinned, her first true smile in months as she reveled in the warmth of her sister's affection. "How wonderful it is you again! I've missed you terribly, it's been far too long!" Liese exclaimed her voice slightly muffled by Dorothea's shawl.

"I missed you too, Liese!" Dorothea said cheerfully, not concerned what Friedrich or the servants thought of this particular display of affection.

Her heart was full, overjoyed to be reunited with the one person who understood her so completely. Liese pulled back from the embrace, cupping Dorothea's face tenderly with both hands. Her eyes swept over her sister's worn appearance. Liese let out a concerned tsk while shaking her head.

"Oh my poor Dottie," she whispered. "He's running you ragged, isn't he?" She asked, glancing pointedly over Dorothea's shoulder, where Friedrich no doubt stood watching them stoically.

"Has nothing truly changed between you and your husband after all the letters we exchanged?" Liese asked, her tone disbelieving.

At this, Dorothea scoffed and glanced over her shoulder. Friedrich and Thomas walked a distance behind Dorothea and Liese, giving them privacy for conversation while also being engaged in their own. Dorothea remembered meeting Thomas at her wedding. He had been the sole attendee sitting on Friedrich's side of the church pews.

"I hope this union brings you and Friedrich the joy and peace you both deserve," Thomas said, his words laced with genuine warmth.

"Thank you, Herr Hutter. That is very kind of you," Dorothea replied, equally sincere.

She knew Friedrich had mentioned, in one of his rare moments of real conversation, that Thomas was also a widower, losing his wife to fever as well. Yet, even in his grief, Thomas remained kind and gentle. Dorothea wondered how they were friends to begin with, Friedrich was unworthy of such a compassionate companion. Whenever Thomas' name was mentioned by Friedrich, it was always with warmth and respect. She wished Friedrich would afford her some of that warmth.

"I would hardly call us husband and wife, we are merely two strangers sharing living quarters," Dorothea corrected. "Since our wedding, he has not touched me, we do not shared a bed, we do not eat breakfast together, we barely speak to each other most days, and at supper I am forced to contend that I must eat in silence despite him sitting across from me," she listed, her frustration growing with every point.

Liese stopped walking, her brow furrowing, "That's intolerable, Dottie. This isn't the life I envisioned for you," she whispered, frowning softly.

"What did you envision?" Dorothea asked bitingly. "A grand estate and a handsome husband make for a happy marriage, right? That's the common wisdom, isn't it?" she asked sarcastically.

"Not if he treats you like a ghost," Liese retorted, her voice sharp. "I will speak to him," she decided, with a nod of her head. "He needs to be reminded of his obligations," she added, determination hardening her features.

Dorothea's gloved hand shot out, grasping Liese's arm. The thought of a confrontation, however well-intentioned, filled her with dread. The last thing she needed was something that would further solidify the ice between her and Friedrich.

"No, please don't! You'll only upset him further and put a greater strain on my marriage," she begged, her eyes pleading for understanding. "He is a proud man, interference would wound him deeply,"

"I will not be made to watch you suffer, Dottie! You're withering before my very eyes!" Liese argued, her tone firm, protective . "But, I will honor your wishes," she conceded, patting Dorothea's hand. "For now," she warned.

Dorothea's grip softened her grip on her sister's arm, "Let us talk about more pleasant matters, yes?" she encouraged, forcing a brittle smile. "How is Lukas?" she asked, resuming their walk.

"He is well. The bank keeps him busy now that he's been promoted, but we are happy," Liese answered, a warmth entering her voice whenever she talked about her husband. "He told me to send you his best wishes," she mentioned.

"Very kind of him," Dorothea murmured, her words hollow as she watched a seagull soar overhead.

"He also wanted to know if the rumors were true," Liese added, her voice dropping slightly.

A dry chuckle escaped Dorothea, a sound devoid of any mirth.

Dorothea lowered her eyes, "More like, you both want to know if what people say is true," she reckoned, rolling her eyes. Coming to a stop near a cluster of weathered rocks, she turned and faced the turbulent water; the wind whipping strands of hair across her face. "The truth is, I do not know and probably will never know," she answered, feeling her sister's keen gaze upon her.

The ocean mirrored the vast, unknowable depths of her husband's grief.

"Does that not bother you?" Liese questioned, her voice gentle but insistent. "To live with such uncertainty, such whispers?" she went on.

Dorothea turned back to her sister, her eyes filled with a mixture of despair and resignation.

"Of course it does, but what am I to do?' Dorothea asked back, her voice rising slightly with a touch of desperation. "I'm his lawfully wedded wife now," she emphasized.

The words felt like a confining title, rather than a source of pride.

"You haven't managed to pry anything out of your servants? The people in the city?" Liese wondered, her eyes searching Dorothea's.

"The servants do not dare to repeat such rumors, at least not around me. Their loyalty, or perhaps their fear, keep them quiet. The city folk...." Dorothea trailed off, her gaze drifting toward the distant city. "I do not venture into the city often for a variety of reasons," she finished, leaving the unspoken reasons hanging heavy in the air.

Friedrich's preference for isolation. The gossip that followed her. Dorothea's own growing sense of isolation.

"How unfortunate," Liese remarked, her eyes narrowing in thought. "The question must constantly eat at you," she assumed. "Did he or did he not—"

"Ladies,"

The sound of Thomas' voice, smooth and polite, suddenly behind them startled both sisters. He and Friedrich had finally just about caught up. Dorothea spun around, her cheeks hot, though whether from the wind or embarrassment, she couldn't say. She only hoped they hadn't heard too much. Thomas, his face flushed from the sea air and long walk, approached them until he stood in front of them.

"It was not my intention to frighten you, my apologies," he said, a kind smile appeared on his lips. "If I may, might I ask what you two were discussing. You two were engaged in quite the deep conversation," Thomas noted humorously.

"You startled us, indeed, Herr Hutter," Dorothea said, forcing a smile, though her heart sank at the interruption. "We were merely discussing the weather and how wonderful it is to see the sun once more," she explained, watching Friedrich walk up behind Thomas.

"Yes, yes, the weather is lovely today, wouldn't you agree?" Liese added, trying to mask the undercurrent of tension in their conversation.

"Please, just Thomas. Remember?" Thomas reminded warmly.

"Of course, Thomas," Dorothea corrected, mirroring his expression.

Friedrich only tilted his head slightly, scrutinizing the sisters with a knowing look.

"I'm glad you persuaded me to come to the beach with you, Frau Werner," Thomas said, with a polite nod. "Just as you predicted, the sea air did me well," he admitted.

"I find it refreshing for the spirit. A walk by the beach always lifts it," Liese chirped. "And please, just Liese," she added, echoing Thomas from moments before.

At this, Thomas chuckled and turned his attention back to Dorothea.

"We were all so swept up in Liese's demand to visit the beach, I didn't get the chance to ask you how have you been?" he questioned. "I trust the newlywed life has been treating you well?" he presumed.

A tightness coiled in Dorothea's chest at the question.

"It has been...as one might expect," she replied, she couldn't banish the slight stiffness in her tone. "It is a role within which one must learn to find their footing, is it not?" she remarked, glancing at Friedrich, the question hanging in the air like a challenge.

Although composed, he seemed to catch the weight of her words. Friedrich paused, his usual stoicism momentarily cracking, before he stepped forward to join them. The sea's grey light seemed to leach the color from his face, leaving him looking older than his age.

"Indeed, Dorothea speaks truly," he said, his voice smooth as polished wood. "One must learn to adapt to the responsibilities expected of them. A wife must abide her husband's wishes," he paused, his words hanging heavy in the air. A cold implied reminder that he hadn't wanted this marriage, it was born of practicality. Affection was out of the question and he intended to keep it that way. "A marriage must be built on a solid foundation of respect," Friedrich retorted evenly, but with a faint edge.

Dorothea forced a smile, the barb finding its mark. The sea air, which once felt refreshing, now felt heavy on her skin.

"Respect, certainly," she agreed, faux sweetness dripping in her voice. She knelt down to pick up a shell, turning it over in her hand, examining its delicate swirls and ridges. "But also understanding. Both, of course, are a two-way road," she commented, her tone hardening slightly. "One cannot build a house upon a foundation of silence," she reasoned, before sending the shell skimming across the water.

It bounced twice before sinking. An apt metaphor of her fleeting hopes for a relationship quickly disappearing beneath the surface before her eyes.

"Aah! A pity it didn't go further. Handled with a strong, yet tender hand, can go a long way. I imagine," Liese commented pointedly, placing her hand gently on Dorothea's arm and squeezing.

Friedrich's gaze danced between Dorothea and Liese, irritation simmering beneath the surface. Thomas let out a chuckle, a strained sound that did little to lighten the mood.

"It is getting rather chilly. Perhaps we should return to the house for luncheon?" Thomas suggested abruptly, sensing the tension.

"An excellent suggestion, Thomas!" Dorothea exclaimed. "It's been ages since we've entertained guests at our home," she informed.

"Yes, a wonderful idea. Lead the way, friend," Friedrich urged, offered a small, strained smile. "Shall we, Dorothea?" he asked, offered her his arm.

The gesture felt more a strategic than a genuine expression of affection. Liese shot her sister a quick glance.

"Of course," she said, the smile a mirror image of Friedrich's.

Dorothea swallowed thickly, gently unwrapping her arm from Liese's before making her way to her husband. She hesitated only briefly before placing her hand on Friedrich's coat sleeve. Liese slipped past, pausing briefly to give Dorothea's bicep a warm squeeze before moving to walk beside Thomas. Within moments, Thomas had Liese laughing heartily. Dorothea was struck by the camaraderie and gentle compassion Thomas exuded toward her sister in such a short time. It was a glimpse of the connection she craved with Friedrich, if only he would let her in.

"Must we conduct our unhappiness for the benefit of our guests?" Friedrich questioned, his voice was low, almost a murmur. He refused to meet her gaze.

Dorothea flinched, the unexpected words like a cold wave crashing over her. She turned, her eyes blazing with a fury barely contained.

"Unhappiness?" she repeated, a short, bitter laugh escaping her lips. "I believe it is rather difficult to hide the state of our arrangement, wouldn't you agree?" she asked, a mirthless smile twisted her features.

A humorless chuckle escaped him, "An arrangement? Just yesterday you said we were married," he recalled mockingly.

"What else would you have me call it?" Dorothea retorted. "A partnership? It certainly is not a love affair," she went on. "You made your feelings abundantly clear last night about what we are," she pointed out, her voice trembling despite her efforts to keep it steady.

Friedrich's jaw tightened, "You knew my circumstances when you agreed to this," he reminded.

Dorothea stopped abruptly, her hand clenching the skirt of her seaside gown.

"I did not agree to any of this!" she corrected sharply. "I did not agree to being expected to live in a perpetual shrine to your dead wife and children!" she snapped, her voice rising an octave.

"Do not speak of my home in such a manner!" Friedrich said, his voice hardening. The icy blue of his eyes seemed to reflect the unforgiving sea. "It was—is a place of memories," he said, correcting himself.

"And I am not amongst them, am I?" Dorothea challenged, stepping closer. The wind tore at her bonnet, threatening to pull it free. "I see the specter of Anna and your girls haunting every corner of the house. I feel it, Friedrich! I see the resentment in your eyes whenever you look at me, the woman who, what? Dared to replace them? Dared to breathe the same air they did?" she asked, a harsh, incredulous chuckle escaped her lips.

"Do not speak so carelessly. You know the depth of my loss!" he ground out, his voice was low, a dangerous growl.

"And do you know mine?" Dorothea shot back, her words cut like a razor, sharp and biting. "I lost my life when I married you, Friedrich. I lost my future, my hopes for a loving marriage, for children of my own who would not be looked upon as a constant reminder of what you lost before!" she seethed, the ocean's roar seemed to mirror the tempest within her.

His nostrils flared, "I cannot believe I condemned myself to this union!" he sneered, the words like shards of ice.

Dorothea's eyes flashed, the pain momentarily eclipsed by a bitter triumph, "Then, perhaps you should have chosen a different wife, Friedrich!" she spat venomously. "Oh wait, you couldn't, because no man wanted to marry their daughter off to you for reasons unknown to me, only my father was desperate enough!" she remembered, a resentful almost mocking smile twisting her lips.

Friedrich flinched, nearly imperceptible, but Dorothea saw it. It was enough. For the first time since their wedding day, she felt a flicker of something akin to power. A rare victory amidst the overwhelming despair of their wretched marriage.

He swallowed hard, "They are watching us," he muttered, looking at the carriage waiting at the far end of the beach.

Dorothea stared at him, her chest heaving. He offered her his arm again, a gesture so lacking in warmth it was near insulting. She wanted to refuse, but the thought of Liese's knowing gaze stopped her. Gingerly, she placed her hand lightly on his sleeve, the stiff fabric a barrier as impenetrable as the man himself. As they resumed their trek towards the carriage, an oppressive silence descended, heavier and more stifling than before. Each step now felt like a chore, the journey back seeming to stretch on endlessly, weighted by the palpable unease that permeated the air.

~~~x~~~

Darkness had descended upon the Harding estate, yet the tension between Friedrich and Dorothea persisted, despite everyone's attempts to ignore it. For Dorothea, however, the evening meal was a rare moment of joy in the past bleak months. Thomas' and Liese's lively banter breathed life into the dining room. A welcome change from the monotonous silence that had blanketed her meals for months. Friedrich, true to form, remained largely silent or offered only sparse words, his brooding presence a stark contrast amidst the lively discourse surrounding him.

After supper, the party retired to the parlor, where the fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting a cozy glow upon the richly appointed furniture. Dorothea perched on the edge of the velvet settee, her face alight with genuine delight as she engaged in animated storytelling of fond childhood memories. Across from her, Thomas leaned forward, his attention rapt, while beside her, Liese chuckled along, the sound as warm and inviting as the dancing flames. Friedrich sat in a shadowy corner, a glass of brandy swirling listlessly in his grasp. His gaze was transfixed by the flames within the fireplace, a distant look clouding his features. The laughter and chatter of the room seemed to drift past him untouched.

"And then, Liese, do you remember, when that goose somehow found its way into Mother's garden! It was a feathery whirlwind of chaos! She was absolutely beside herself, waving her fan and shouting, 'Out, you loathsome fowl!'" Dorothea quoted, mimicking her mother's voice.

Liese laughed warmly, "Oh, Dottie, how could I forget? You were convinced the goose was after your doll, Lilli. You chased it around with a tiny parasol!" she said, reenacting how Dorothea wildly swung to stave off the winged threat.

"A goose in the garden, you say?" Thomas asked, a chuckle leaving him. "Sounds like it was quite the spectacle. I imagine your mother wasn't the only one ruffled by the intrusion," he assumed.

"Oh, you have no idea! It took three of the gardeners to finally wrangle the winged beast," Dorothea remembered, laughing again. "Mother declared the garden off-limits to all feathered creatures for a month!"

"Though I suspect, the little rascal that she was," Liese began, squeezing Dorothea's hand. "Dottie probably sneaked out there anyway to attract more birds like robins and goldfinches that she was always fond of,"

Dorothea giggled, "Perhaps a time or two, but only when the coast was clear! And Liese, you always covered for me, didn't you?" she pointed out.

"But of course!" Liese answered in faux exasperation. "Someone had to keep you out of real trouble. Remember the time you tried to dye Father's dog blue with berry juice?" she reminded, shaking her head and smiling.

Dorothea's eyes widened, "Oh, please don't remind me! That was a disaster! Mats looked like a little blue monster for a week!" she remembered.

Thomas' hearty laughter echoed through the room as he reveled in the tale. Meanwhile, Friedrich's silence remained unbroken, his expression unreadable in the shadows. Dorothea stole a glance in his direction, a flicker of hope flickering in her eyes only to be extinguished just as swiftly.

"As you can imagine, Father wasn't too pleased, but he couldn't help but smile in the end. He always had a soft spot for my enthusiastic imagination," she noted.

"He did, still does. He absolutely adores you, Dottie. We all do. You brought so much life into the house. I can't imagine my life without you being my sister," Liese said, her eyes crinkling.

"This...it feels good to remember those times. It's been a long time since I've been able to talk like this," Dorothea's voice softened, her smile becoming wistful.

She stared pointedly at Friedrich, but he remained unmoved. The firelight danced on his somber face, highlighting the deep lines etched around his eyes. His posture was tense, his jaw tight. He seemed to shrink even further into the shadows. Thomas cleared his throat gently, forcing Dorothea's back to him.

"Well, it sounds as though you and your sister had quite the adventures growing up. I always longed for a sibling when I was a boy, and hearing such lively tales reminds me of what I missed out on," Thomas said, his eyes gleaming with a wistfulness of his own.

Liese's eyes twinkled mischievously, "Oh, Thomas, Dottie and I were quite the pair. Remember the time we tried to groom Frau Schmidt's poodle?" she asked.

Dorothea gasped theatrically. "Liese! Don't tell him everything! That was also a disaster. The dog ended up patchy, and Frau Schmidt didn't speak to us for a week!" she laughed, a rich sound that filled the room.

Friedrich rose abruptly, setting down his brandy glass with a sharp clink.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice low and strained. "I find myself needing some air," he announced.

He offered a curt nod to Thomas and Liese, and without a word to Dorothea, he walked from the room. The heavy oak door closing behind him with a subdued thud. A heavy silence descended on the parlor.

Dorothea swallowed hard, her smile faltering and she looked at her sister, a question and a plea in her eyes. The joy that had been bubbling inside her now replaced with a familiar ache. Liese's smile had also faded, a concerned frown taking its place.

"It's going to be okay, liebchen," she soothed, taking Dorothea's hand, her touch warm and reassuring. "I think I need some air as well. All the excitement—it's been a long day," she said, with a weary sigh. Leaning down, she planted a gentle kiss atop Dorothea's head. "If you'll excuse me," Liese murmured, before departing, her eyes taking on a determined glint that could only mean one thing to Dorothea, trouble.

"For now," Liese's warning from this afternoon echoed in her head.

"Friedrich, he's a good man, Dorothea, but grief…it's a heavy burden. I am all too familiar with it," Thomas paused, his voice slightly catching in his throat. "Perhaps fresh air is just what he needs," he suggested, a sad smile on his lips.

She let out a soft exhale, remembering Thomas' own circumstances. It was a shared pain between him and Friedrich, a bleak common ground she wouldn't wish on anyone. She didn't know him well, but she could see that the loss that had aged him beyond his years.

"It's good you were not wholly alone in your time of grief," Dorothea said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The words felt inadequate, hollow even, in the face of his own loss.

She felt a strange kinship with him, not forged in shared joy, but of mutual understanding of loss. Perhaps, not the all-consuming kind that had swallowed Friedrich whole, or the heavy sorrow that weighed upon Thomas, still, she too was familiar with the specter of grief.

Thomas gave a gentle nod, "No. I was not. I had a companion," he replied.

She offered a small, hesitant smile. "You speak of your cat, I presume? "Friedrich mentioned you were quite attached to the creature," she remembered, recalling his dismissive wave of the animal.

"Indeed. Mathilde. A rather playful tabby, possessing the heart of a lion, so she thinks. She saw me through my darkest days, I can assure you," Thomas leaned back in his chair, a flicker of genuine warmth lighting his features. "She has a knack for knowing when one needs silent company, a warm lap, and the occasional well-aimed head-butt," he joked, the mention of his cat seeming to have eased the weight on his shoulders, if only momentarily.

Dorothea chuckled, a genuine sound that still felt foreign even after today's visit from her sister. "Artemis has much the same talent. I daresay, for a long while, she was the only creature in this house who seemed to truly notice my presence," she confessed.

A shadow crossed his face, the lightness of the moment fading abruptly.

"Losing Anna and the girls…it leaves a chasm," he began, his voice subdued.

"One that I cannot seem to bridge," Dorothea said, the words escaping before she could restrain herself. "I try, Thomas, truly I do. But it's as if he sees a ghost whenever he looks at me. A reminder of what he's lost. A disappointment in what he's gained," she finished in a whisper, fiddling with the lace on her sleeve, avoiding his gaze.

Thomas was silent for a moment, "Believe me when I say grief is a beast. It blinds, deafens. It makes men do and say things they'll later regret. Right now, Friedrich is trapped within its clutches. It doesn't diminish your own feelings, Dorothea, but knowing this will helpfully assist you in understanding his behavior," he explained gently.

"How long, Thomas?" Dorothea questioned, her voice still barely a whisper. "How long must I endure being a background figure in my own marriage? This house feels so empty, despite being so large. For so long, my cat has been my only true company," she pointed out, a sad chuckle escaping her.

Thomas sighed, "There is no timetable, Dorothea. It ebbs and flows," he answered, shaking his head. "You have to take it one day at a time," he advised. "And to allow yourself to grieve, too." he added softly.

Her eyes widened in surprise, it was as if Thomas heard her and Friedrich's spat earlier in the day.

"Grieve? Why would I grieve?" she asked, a faint tremor in her voice betraying her attempt at nonchalance.

There was a reluctance to admit the depth of her unhappiness to him.

"For the marriage you thought you were entering into, for the love you're not receiving," he explained, reaching down to grab his half-empty glass of brandy.

He had struck a nerve, a raw and painful truth she had been desperately trying to ignore.

"You're very perceptive, Thomas," Dorothea noted quietly, gratitude in her voice. "Not many people, let alone men, would be so understanding and caring to what I'm experiencing," she said softly.

She had expected judgment, even pity, but not this quiet empathy.

He nodded solemnly, swirling the amber liquid with his gaze fixed on its contents, "They wouldn't be," he acknowledged. "My caring nature is what my Ellen loved most about me," he reminisced, a watery smile on his lips. He pulled himself back, returning to the present and clearing his throat. "Perhaps," he added with a hopeful glint in his eyes, looking up from his glass. "A little feline companionship can be a balm for both of you," he joked, attempting to lighten the mood.

A scoffing laugh left her, "Friedrich detests Artemis, they are the very definition of mortal enemies,"

"I do recall him calling her a 'demon disguised in fur' in a letter," Thomas informed, prompting them both to break out into soft laughter. "Things will get better, Dorothea," he promised, a quiet sincerity in his voice.

Thomas reached across the small table and gently enclosed his hand around hers, offering a comforting squeeze. She smiled, a genuine, hopeful one that reached her eyes as she squeezed back, feeling a warmth spread through her.

"Perhaps, Thomas. Perhaps. And thank you. For seeing me, when Friedrich cannot. Or…when he chooses not to," she said softly, a hint of sadness creeping into her voice. "It means more than you know," she murmured.

She looked down at their joined hands. Thomas saw the loneliness, the isolation, that she had become so accustomed to. She wanted to hold onto this small connection, this fleeting moment of solace, for a little while longer.

~~~x~~~

A few days later

The heavy, lingering scent of ink and pressed flowers hung thick in the morning room. Dorothea sat at her desk, pen in hand, as the warm sunlight spilled through the windows illuminating the delicate sketches and pressed specimens adorning the pages of her botanical journal. With her brow knit, Dorothea captured the delicate veining of the primrose in front of her. Suddenly, a shadow fell across her desk. A hand, large and familiar yet still somewhat foreign, reached over her shoulder and gently placed a vibrant tulip on the open page. Its red petals contrasting starkly against the cream colored paper she had been working on. Dorothea gasped softly, startled, and turned around in her chair. Friedrich stood there, his expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of something softer than usual in his stare.

"I reckoned you didn't have this flower yet. Just bloomed this morning in the garden," he reasoned, his voice low and laced with a timbre she was unfamiliar with. It wasn't the curt, detached tone he usually reserved for her.

Dorothea looked at the tulip, then back at him, her expression a mix of surprise and the wariness that had become all too familiar in their young marriage. Yet, an almost dizzying flicker of hope danced within her.

"How did you know about my journal? Did you have Sofie tell you?" she asked, her words coming out sharper than she intended.

Her carefully constructed composure was wavering, it was a defensive shield against the sudden surge of hope within her.

Friedrich's lips quirked in a small, almost sad smile. It softened the harsh lines of his face, making him appear years younger.

"I'm more observant than you give me credit for, Dorothea," he answered,

Her breath caught. He'd used her name, truly, used it, without the frosty formality that she was used to.

"Is that so?" Dorothea wondered softly, the words barely audible.

Friedrich stepped closer, resting a hand against the edge of the desk, casually but deliberately close to her. Dorothea's gaze lingered on his hand, then rising to meet his eyes. They reminded her of a stormy sea, holding a glimmer she hadn't seen before. She felt the heat rising in her cheeks. The gesture was disarmingly intimate. A crack in the wall he's built between them.

"I've noticed you always disappear in here mornings," Friedrich remarked, looking at the journal. "And along with the scent of ink. Hard to miss, really," he said, his gaze sweeping over the cluttered desk. "You have a talent for it. The details are...impressive," he complimented.

"Thank you, Friedrich," she said quietly, an undeniable fluttering in her chest.

Dorothea swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. She stared at the tulip, its petals a perfect crimson, mirroring the warmth that was slowly blooming in her chest. His words, simple as they were, sent a thrill through her. He had noticed, noticed her passions. He had seen her. Friedrich hadn't been entirely lost in the fog of his past this whole time.

She risked a glance at him from the corner of her eye. He was still leaning against the desk, his gaze fixed on the tulip. He looked…less burdened.

The air crackled with a sudden, unexpected tension. The gesture, so small, so quietly offered. It was utterly romantic, in its own understated way. The urge to lean forward and cup his face in her hands, closing the distance between them, was almost unbearable. To feel his warmth against her own which she so desperately craved as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, telling him how much this small act meant. But they weren't there yet. They weren't that kind of couple. Not yet. They were barely acquaintances still, bound only by a legal contract and a shared roof.

As he moved to push himself off the desk, Dorothea acted on impulse, reaching out and gently wrapping her fingers around his hand, her touch light and hesitant.

"Thank you, Friedrich,"

He stilled, his gaze fixed on their joined hands for a moment. The pale contrast between his skin and hers was stark. Turning his hand over, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles, caressing her skin on the back of her hand for just a beat longer than necessary. The small intimacy sent a shiver down Dorothea's spine.

He straightened up, his eyes finally meeting hers. There was a depth there she hadn't seen before, a hint of vulnerability that tugged at her heart. Friedrich only nodded, the gesture stiff, awkward. Then, he pulled away, the connection broken as quickly as it was formed.

He turned and walked towards the door, "Good day, Dorothea," he wished, leaving the room.

Dorothea was left alone with the tulip and the ghost of his touch. She carefully lifted the tulip, bringing it right up underneath her nose its velvety petals cool against her skin. It was a gesture of reconciliation, a silent apology. And God, how she wanted to believe it was real. To believe that finally, finally, the shadow of his past was beginning to lift.

Liese. Dorothea was certain her sister had something to do with this shift. She had left the Harding residence two days ago and she refused to reveal what she had said to Friedrich that night they both stepped out for air. Whatever it was, she thanked god for it. Liese had always been a force to be reckoned with. Dorothea could only imagine the scolding her sister had delivered.

Bathed in the warmth of the morning sun, Dorothea held the flower out in front of her, a vibrant beacon in her otherwise muted world.

Part III: Little Things Mean A Lot

#black!reader #black!fanfiction #friedrich harding x reader #friedrich harding x oc #nosferatu fanfiction #nosferatu x reader #friedrich harding #black!oc

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memoirofasparklemuff1n · 5 months ago

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omg just read ur long sleeves fix it was sSOOOO GOOD! if u write part 2 i will be tuned in & reading ☝️☝️

i miss you, i'm sorry- r.c. x reader

part 2 of long sleeves!!!

OMGG IM SOO GLAD YOU LIKED IT <3

warnings: swearing angst (?) mention of drugs, rehab, and reader is so fucking codependent, like girl?? anyway, this is horrible y’all i cannot for the life of me write a happy ending so i tried my best 😞 can you tell i’m depressed LMAOOO? YALL SHES DEPRESSED TOO 😔 but seriously if i could make it happier hmu, i won’t get mad i promise. i’m new at this whole writing thing 🤠 not proofread cuz i wanted to post this already so tell me if there are big mistakes and my first language isn’t english so sorry if there are errors

disclaimer: the reader's depression is based on my own experiences, everybody is different and what i might go through isn't the same as what another person goes through. with that said, if you find any of these topics triggering, i understand! so, please always take care of yourself <3

ps: sorry this took so long, i've just been busy with school and my dad has been sick for a few days now so i haven't had time.

I'M ALSO HALFWAY DONE THROUGH THE FLASHBACKS FOR NO BODY, NO CRIME. i just haven't had the time fml. hopefully tomorrow 🤞. ok enough whining and into the story 🥁

want it, so i got it, did it, so it's done

making the bed started playing and the first line felt like a punch to the gut. i hated when life kicked you when you were already down.

i quickly changed to a cheery workout playlist that felt more mocking, in a sense, but decided it was better to not relate to the lyrics than listening to my despair sing back to me.

after that day in tannyhill, i'd decided to start running at night. in a silly way i thought that maybe running would burn away my pain in a healthy way. though how healthy running on barely any sleep, with nothing but depressive thoughts in my brain, was beyond me.

still, at least this way i felt like i was doing something. that i was taking action instead of moping. that doesn't make any sense. ugh, shut the fuck up. i really didn't know whose side i was on half the time.

the night sky was clear, making the stars wink at me as if they knew something i didn't. the sea breeze caressed my face, combing its fingers through my hair and drying away my tears.

running equated crying but by the time i got home i would be so exhausted that i couldn't even think. which was, of course, the ultimate goal. not think of him.

six months had passed and it didn't hurt any less. on the contrary, all i could think was how i'd abandoned him. probably when he needed me the most. two weeks after our breakup, sarah called me to tell me that rafe was terribly sick and they were taking him to the hospital. i'd debated whether i should tell her what had happened but she then said that she was aware of the situation and that i shouldn't go see him. she was only letting me know and, in a way, it felt like she was blaming me.

that was the last time i had contact with the camerons, town gossip and my mother becoming the only ties left between us. he'd gone to rehab and was apparently taking better care of himself, his family supporting him every step of the way.

fucking hypocrites. ward never cared when i told him about his son's addiction, instead saying that i should keep quiet, that everything would be okay. rose only cared about new shopping places to spend the family's money. sarah had started spending time with her new boyfriend and barely came home and wheezie was far too young.

so that left me. it had always been me, but when word got out of how bad rafe he was, they then played the card of ignorance and became the holy family.

i took a deep breath and slowed down to a jog, unaware of where the fuck i was. i looked at my surroundings for the first time and of course, i was in front of tannyhill. the gates were close but i could hear muffled voices on the other side. stepping closer to listen like the eavesdropper i was.

i looked through the bars of the gate, only to see him or well his back. he was with ward, who was lowering another suitcase to the ground. i frowned but i then heard his voice saying my name.

Ward turned his head sharply in his direction, "you are not seeing her again, alright? she's the one that got you into this mess in the first place." oh so the asshole blamed me.

he turned to face his dad and i gasped. his hair was buzzed and he looked older, healthier. he looked good but i couldn't help but feel like this was a different person entirely. i felt a slight pang in my chest because i'd been the one who had insisted on him leaving his hair longer and now he'd erased that too.

his voice interrumpted my thoughts, "dad, that is not true and you know it." why was he defending me? in a way what ward said was true. i'd left him alone that night.

his father stepped closer to him and put his hands on his son’s shoulders, “son, trust me when I tell you that it is best for you to stay away from her. don’t set yourself up for disappointment. We know where that led you.” Ward then kissed his forehead like one did to a child in a condescending manner.

Ward then picked up the suitcases left and turned to enter the house, leaving him standing there with a strange expression on his face. He lifted his gaze and somehow found mine, like they always did. I’d forgotten how we always sensed the other, no matter how much time had passed. My heartbeat sped up, causing me to quickly turn around and ran away from him as fast as I could.

“He is such a good father to those kids, especially Rafe.” Vanessa, my mother’s friend said, swooning over ward. Like god, he’s married, get a life.

Either way it seemed like every corner of this island is haunted. Ever since he’d come back as a stellar young man, all the women at the country club started obsessing over him, but more so his father. They practically held him as a saint and it only made my blood boil.

I felt my mothers gaze on me when his name was mentioned, noting the way I flinched and seemed particularly interested in the half eaten strawberries on my plate. They continued to chatter, causing me to tune them out and look at my surroundings for a distraction. Big mistake.

The doors had opened as if on cue, and there he was with a new found confidence that was unfamiliar to me. Before I could look away his eyes found mine, quieting everything around me, dèjá vu flooding my body. We looked at each other for what seemed an eternity until ward came up behind him, clapping his hand on his shoulder to turn him away from me. The colder version of his son’s eyes bore into mine in a warning. Stay away from him.

I looked back down at my plate no longer interested in my food. My eyes welled up and I knew that if i stayed a minute longer on this table I would start sobbing or worse.

“Mom? I’m not feeling well so I’m going home,” my voice quiet in her ear and she realized what I meant.

She nodded, “take the car, ok?”

“It’s ok, I can walk home.” I needed to clear my head and driving wasn’t the best idea.

“Are you sure?” The concern in her eyes made my heart wrench.

“I’m sure, mom. Thanks.” I stood up and voicing my goodbyes, leaving the club as fast as I could.

The sun was out and the sky was clear of clouds, a stark contrast of how I felt inside. I walked down the path, golf carts filled with kooks passing me by. All of them chattering about the next party or newest deal they had closed.

I kept walking and walking until I reached the boardwalk, which was thankfully empty. I sat down on the edge, swinging my feet over the water with the girl staring back at me and somehow looked as if she was drowning.

The wind carried the sound of footsteps behind me, my body tensing as his perfume arriving along with his shadow looming over me. The drowning girl hid away, leaving me alone. I almost begged her to take me with her.

“Why do you always run away?” my heart sank and then restarted when I heard his voice. For the first time in months, I heard the world clearly again. I hadn’t realized the power it had over me. Didn’t you?

Who was I kidding? He would always be my favorite person, everything about me was shaped by him. My favorite color was blue, my favorite smell was his cologne, my favorite taste were his lips, my favorite sound in the world was his voice, his body my favorite thing to touch. But most of all, his soul.

I took a deep breath before lifting my gaze to his. The knot on my throat made it hard to speak, “Who said I was running away?”

He scoffed before sitting down next to me. “I know you. Or at least I thought I did.” His tone sounded reproachful, his eyes searching my face. this time i really looked at him, gone were his red, glassy eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks but most importantly, the anger that had felt permanently etched into his features every time he looked at me.

the buzz cut now made his features more prominent, his body was stronger and not as skinny as when he’d been living off cocaine and god knew what else.

he looked more like the rafe i’d met forever ago, but there was still something that wasn’t quite there. his innocence. which wasn’t the one of a child, but more so the type of innocence that comes with ignorance. the type where you think you can get away with anything and that bad things only happen to somebody else, but never to you. no matter how bad you behave, you genuinely believed there would be no consequences.

and the boy in front of me knew how untrue that belief was.

“rafe, i—” the knot on my throat became worse, preventing me from talking further. great, now here come the waterworks!

i turned my face away so he couldn’t see my tears but it was too late.

he took hold of my face, “look at me.”

i tried to jerk away but it was no use. i had no other choice but to cry silently while he judged me.

“im going to talk and you’re going to listen, understood?” his voice now held a tone of authority i’d never heard before.

that’s kinda hot. dude, now is not the time.

i nodded because what the fuck was i supposed to do?

he turned so both of his hands held my face now. then he did something i wasn’t expecting, he leaned in and kissed my forehead for what felt like an eternity.

when he pulled away his gaze held mine, with a force stronger than any physical restraint i could possibly be held in.

the tears were flowing freely so i probably looked like a drowned cat at the moment.

“im not mad at you, ok? i hope you know that i never asked for you to not visit me. i know it was my dad that didn’t want you near me, but i swear that the only person i ever wanted by my side was you.

“i won’t deny that i was furious when you left me that night. i only got worse because i didn’t have anyone to stop me, or at least try to. i felt like you were the last person that still believed in me, who would always be beside me. and i took you for granted.” his words felt like a knife through my heart. i abandoned him.

“rafe, im sorry. i shouldn’t have left you like that. not when you needed me the most.” my words barely made sense but he somehow understood. he always did.

“no. you did the right thing. i hurt you, i told you that i hated you. when all you’d ever done for me was love me. i’m sorry, ok? if you hadn’t left then maybe i wouldn’t have gotten help.” he lowered his hands to his lap, my face burning where they had been resting.

“i know you tried to help me. that you talked to my dad about how i was and i know that he dismissed you. he only took me to the hospital because i overdosed and he didn’t want the island to know how ward cameron’s perfect son was a drug addict.” he laughed in a humorless manner, “hell, he even paid everyone at the hospital to keep quiet. that didn’t help much, frankly. gossip always finds its way.”

i wanted to say something but i could tell he wasn’t done so i waited until he felt ready.

this time his voice was hoarse, making me realize he wanted to cry too. i couldn’t take it anymore because nothing could hurt me more than seeing him in pain.

“rafe?” i murmured. he looked up with a broken expression causing me to wrap my arms around him. i felt him tense for a second before he hugged me back tightly.

my shirt got wet with our tears and we clung onto each other like a lifeline, with rafe repeating my name like a mantra. after a while, we pulled away and he held my face between his hands like before, only this time much gentler.

“i miss you, im sorry.”

“i miss you too, rafe.” i fell back into him, resting my head on his shoulder. we sat silently for a while before he spoke.

“can we at least be friends?” the question caught me by surprise.

“you’ve always been my best friend, rafe. but again i’m sorry for not being there, i should’ve done more.”

“no, you couldn’t have. it was the way things were supposed to be.”

he played with my hair like he used to, “you’ve always been my best friend too, kid.”

i punched him playfully at the name, making him chuckle. i pulled back to see his face and i wiped away the few tears that were left with my hand. he fell silent, leaning into my touch, “i love you, you know? not being close to you drove me insane. and it makes me so happy to see that you are healthy, at least physically.

“i want to help you in any way that i can and i want to be there from now on, if—“ his lips crushing onto mine cut me off before i could finish. his hands were in my hair, holding me in place as if afraid i’d run away again.

only i knew i wouldn’t. not this time. he groaned when i bit his lower lip, softly. he ran his tongue along mine before i let him in. i sighed into the kiss and pulled him impossibly closer. our lips explained more than any words that came out of them ever could. i separated from him to breathe and he only kept kissing my cheeks, jaw, neck until he reached my collarbone where he rested his head with quick, short breaths.

“i love you too,” he said. i touched his hair and ran my fingers over the short strands.

“i like your hair, by the way,” i murmured.

he laughed, pulling back. “really? i got it because i thought you would hate it.”

i rolled my eyes, “are you serious? either way, you look good with any haircut.”

“i wasn’t exactly planning on this to go like this. in my head, i was going to confront you and tell you all the ways i’d been miserable but that went away when i saw you that night by my house.”

“oh.”

he chuckled, “yeah. oh. anyway, i was telling my dad how i was going to ask why you never visited me and that’s why he said what you heard.

“i then realized it had been him and as if life liked playing tricks on me, there you were at the gate with a sad expression. yet before i could say anything you left running. i wanted to go after you but my dad called me inside and i didn’t want a fight that night. so i waited until i saw you today and when i was going to ask you to talk to me, again my dad came along. but then i saw you leave and i figured it was now or never, so i excused myself and he was so busy talking to the others at the table that he didn’t notice.”

i scoffed, “well, i’m guessing he noticed by now.”

he laughed, “yeah.”

we fell silent but i still had one more thing to ask, “how did you know i was here?” though i think i already knew the answer, after all i hadn’t exactly been surprised when he came. more like a sense of having your intuition confirmed.

“remember the night we met? i was alone and drunk, saying i was going for a night swim when i saw you sitting here alone. which should’ve alerted me that you were a weirdo but between your beauty and the alcohol, those thoughts went to shit.”

i blushed slightly, “i’m not a weirdo, jackass. i’d had a rough night.”

“i know, kid. i’m just messing with you and besides, i might’ve drowned that night if you hadn’t been here,” he smiled fondly but a bit sad as well.

“so, that makes me your knight in shining armor?” i grinned.

he scowled in mock annoyance, “how dare you mock a damsel in distress?”

i chuckled and felt a heavy weight lift off my chest. i felt lighter than i had in a while, and all because of him.

“my apologies, dear.”

he took my hand with a smile and brought it to his lips for a kiss, before placing it against his cheek.

“but to answer your question, we always find each other,” his words sinking in. that was true. we always did as if there was some invisible string tying him to me.

“you’re right. although you’re still not beating the stalker allegations,” i teased.

“ugh shut up, it was one time!” he groaned.

i burst out laughing, “you followed me for a whole day! that’s some stalker behavior type shit.”

“c’mon, kid. i wanted to give you your bracelet back and i didn’t know where you lived,” his eyes widening in a too innocent way which caused me to narrow mine.

“a bracelet that wasn’t even mine. plus you could’ve just given it to me when you first saw me,” i crossed my arms in front of my chest with a raised brow.

“oh c’mon, but where’s the fun in that?”

i pushed his shoulder, playfully only for him to laugh and hug me.

“i really just wanted to know if you were with someone else, so i wouldn’t make a fool of myself.” he whispered in my ear.

“you could’ve just asked,” i rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t see me.

“i wanted to be cool about it, ok? i had a reputation to maintain,” he joked but i knew he was a little serious. he’d been the epitome of a rich, arrogant, country club boy.

“i thought you were such an asshole.” who the fuck wears shades inside of a convenience store? you guessed it: rafe cameron.

he gasped in mock surprise, “you’re just saying that because you had the hots for me.”

“pfft, sure buddy. i think you’re projecting a little,” i laughed.

“i never said i didnt,” this time his tone was a little too serious making my heart beat faster.

“can we try this again?” he asked shyly.

i pondered for a moment before answering, “yes, but i want you to let me help you this time, ok?”

he moved his head to look me in the eye, “i promise.”

“ok, but wait. what about your father?” i’d somehow forgotten how he hated me now. or maybe always had.

“what about him? i’m an adult, i can make my own decisions. besides it’s none of his business. he’s the one that got us here in the first place.” his tone was now angry, which was rare when he spoke of his father. it was usually filled with frustration and sadness when it came to him. and i knew how important his father’s approval was to him.

“rafe, i don’t know. he’s still your father and i don’t want to come between you two,” i lowered my eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill.

he was silent for a moment before lifting my chin with his finger, frowning when he noticed my expression.

“you’re the love of my life. i’m not losing you again, ok? he’ll have to understand and i will talk to him. i’ll tell him how things really went down. plus, he isn’t innocent in any of this either.”

pursing my lips, i nodded. “ok” i didn’t really believe ward would be capable of changing his mind, but if it made rafe happy then i would try and compromise.

rafe searched for my eyes with a soft smile, “i love you.”

i returned the smile, “i love you too.”

he then got up to his feet, reaching his hand down to help me stand. after a few more kisses and a hug, he took me to his truck. we drove around with no particular destination in mind but with the sole purpose of being by ourselves without prying eyes and judging remarks.

i hoped deep down that i wasn’t making a mistake and that everything would be ok.

and as if on cue, “everything is going to be ok.” i turned my head in surprise at his words.

“don’t act so shocked, kid. i know you better than i know myself.” he then lifted my hand again and kissed it like he’d done on the boardwalk.

i chuckled and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. with the windows down, the ocean breeze, his hand drawing circles on the back of mine, and the soft music playing, i felt myself float away.

“sleep, angel. i love you.”

and then i woke up.

JK JK IT’S NOT A DREAM.

or is it? HEHEHEHEHE

ALSO WHY IS SHE SO CODEPENDENT??? LIKE GIRL STAND UP (says the one who wrote her 👯‍♀️)

anywayyyy, if you made it this far THANK YOU. I LOVE YOU!!!

please feel free to write comments or whatever, i love talking to you all 💞

and if you liked this check out my other stories!!

im currently writing a murder mystery kind of story and i only have two chapters for now, but i will make flashbacks with like text messages and diary entries and stuff. i’m trying to make it as if the reader is part of the investigation (I HOPE IM DOING A GOOD JOB) and i already have how i want the story to end but writing it is the hard part. like how long do i make it?? i don’t want to rush it but i really want to finish it because the characters take a mind of their own when i write. does that make sense? prob not lol

div creds!!- by @anitalenia

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blueberrypancakesworld · 10 months ago

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Helloooo! I've been wanting to share rhis idea of mine for our emo boy Martin.

What if the reader and Martin were like friends. And he always has a thing for her as he should because this us, hello? And then when the reader went to his place and saw him all bloodied and beaten up, she started taking care of him, and he was not used to it so he became sobby babyboy overwhelmed and couldn't helped it so he kiss the reader and things got escalated. iykyk

That's all for my rambling, thank you so muchhh!

Friends? But more and more

Martin x fem!reader

warning : +18, smut, oral (f reciving), small fluff/comfort, kissing, pain kink, wounds and treating

Summary : Friend or more? Was there something between them? Did it just take a trigger at the end to realise that there was more than just the hurt and the caring? Whatever it was, it seemed to be everything because when she felt his lips on hers, all worries seemed to be over and this something between them could finally be free and love each other.

info : Thank you very much for this request dear anon i'm glad i could give your rambling a little space. And I mean of course he loves us what else ;) Have fun reading and see you next time :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the morning hours of the small foggy town, a car with its owner makes its way to a relatively single house. A place she had been to many times, at least so often that she knew the way by heart, the things she could always pick up a few days later, whether it was a new seatbelt, a box of beer, a coat or just cigarettes.

It was a relationship between them like friends, like a salesman and his regular customer, she gave him what he needed and he…yes, what did he give her besides money and a little talk between them.

But maybe having him around was something she needed and had learnt to appreciate, because when the fog settles over the city you can get a bit lonely, the streets are barely visible, the houses are barely visible and you yourself are barely visible, you're glad of any contact, she knew that and she knew that Martin knew it too.

,,How bad will it be this time?" she asked herself as she turned into his street, her fingers drumming lightly on the cool leather of the steering wheel, no rhythm and looking ahead of her rather expectantly, knowing that it always looked different every night.

Sometimes he had little more than a bruise and some days she could almost have taken him to the hospital but he always waved her off, not only too annoying but also ruining his fun or so he had once mumbled to her.

Whenever she came to him he sat on his bed smoking, playing or just seemed to be living his life so tragically and yet so pitifully he didn't want that, whatever it was for him it no longer mattered as she parked outside his house and got out of her car wondering as she used the key if her helicopter was still intact.

The opening of the door always caused a creaking noise she heard moving around the room in the small flat, ,,It's me!" she shouted through the living room knowing he heard her, putting on a shirt and trying not to look quite so broken even though she was already used to the sight.

Her footsteps approached his room and the wooden door opened, her surprise was immediate when she saw him sitting on the edge of his bed, ,,Hi…glad you're here," he said, his long black beams falling into his mind almost as if his own body didn't want her to see what had happened to him again.

But she could have guessed it instead she just sighed slightly saw that the helicopter was back in its box and standing on the dresser ready to be picked up normally she would have taken the fifty dollars and sat in the doorway with him for another thirty minutes.

Talking about everything and nothing and would have left but now she was on her way to his kitchen knowing that she was once again doing him the etxra favour because maybe it was her heart that was stopping her from leaving.

Without a word she came back with the first aid kit she needed, stood in front of him and put her hand under his chin, ,,Please show me Martin," she said quietly, knowing how quickly he could change when he nevertheless gave in and looked up at her, a look of pain and satisfaction in her eyes, ,,You-You don't have to do it," he almost whispered as she told him to slide back a little further onto the bed so that she could position herself better next to him.

She could almost see how he went from relaxed to tense and wanted to push away from her while she came closer to him at the same time. Uncertainty ran through him as if he didn't know what to do, as if he was overwhelmed by her presence or maybe it was because he loved her closeness, he loved it when she was with him, her voice, her loving nature and also her body. But all this remained hidden from her for the moment.

She took care of him, gently stroking the strands of hair from his face, seeing his somewhat guarded expression, the warmth radiating from his body almost inviting as he held still, the warm cheeks almost pink as she was so close to him she would be lying if she said she didn't like him. He might have been a bit strange but who wasn't?

Everyone had a strange way about them and Martin she had often seen him like this, beaten up but happy, making videos, smoking and doing other special things in his world where she only had a small place.

But maybe this small space meant more to him, ,,Almost there" she said as she tried to wipe the crusted blood off him so that she could finally put the plasters on him properly when she suddenly felt his hand on hers, almost carefully he held her hand and she saw that his gaze was probably on her the whole time.

He held her hand not out of pain but out of affection, ,,Martin I-" she wanted to say something as they slowly got closer but the words were forgotten when she suddenly felt his lips on hers, he overcame the last moments between them and it felt like something had finally opened up between them.

It was as if this around between them, the looks, the touches had finally become worth something, ,,Finally" she murmured between kisses as she felt his hands on her body Martin seemed almost overwhelmed as he seemed too overwhelmed to finally have her, to finally be able to pursue his love heard the almost elated sigh of relief at her approval.

He had never looked sweeter, his eyes full of love and devotion, his hands on her, ,,May I?" he asked almost shyly as his hands were about to take off her clothes, smiling as she put her hands on his cheeks and gave him a gentle kiss, stroking his injury for a moment before she lay down on his bed and gave him permission.

Martin did not tear her clothes from her but rather carefully for every piece he took from her he kissed her skin caressing her and seemed to love every sound she made as if she was the most beautiful thing that had ever happened to him, he was unlike anything she had ever had.

He loved her he loved her like she was his everything with every kiss, with every touch and with every sound she made out of lust he only seemed to love her more as if he was grateful to her, as if she alone kept him alive.

She felt his kisses leave her torso and kiss up her legs, his fingers almost cautiously touching her centre, unsure if he was even good enough, ,,Mhh do-you do well," she said slightly breathlessly, straightening up for a moment to stroke his head, seeing him nuzzle his head against her hand, kissing her fingers, ,,I promise," came the muffled reply from him as she leaned back, caught by the soft mattress and blanket.

He planted a few last kisses on the inside of her thigh before she felt his fingers brush over the bundle of nerves, the first relaxed, pleasurable sounds of her lips leaving the pleasure of his previous touches, the kisses leaving marks from her neck, to her breasts, which he caressed even more gently, to her stomach and legs.

Her fingers clung to the bedspread as she felt his warm tongue on her fingers and he slowly began to make love to her physically, still a little insecure.

But with every sound she made, her fingers from the bed cover first clinging to his shirt, scratching his shoulders and burying themselves in his hair, she also heard the grunt as she pulled too hard on his black hair.

A noise she didn't know if it was too much pain or something else as she was beginning to understand why he was fighting with others in his car at night.

At first, wanting to let go of him in her mind, she only heard Markus say, ,,Go ah-on…please" as he let go of her and looked at her, his bright eyes filled with the veil of lust that had settled on hers, nodding faintly, barely perceptible but understandable as he disappeared between her thighs again and her fingers in his dark hair.

With each lick, each further sensitive electrifying shudder of her body through his caresses, she not only came closer to her high but elicited more and more moans from him, the pain as she held on to him pulling at his strands, tousling his black hair and using him for her pleasure as he wanted, he seemed to give her more and more.

He seemed to want to give her so much more from the start, unable to express his love in any other way than to love her so much that he would give her anything to show her how serious he was.

As she continued to surrender to him with each slight rise of her body as she was caught by the pillows and the mattress, the clutching in his hair, the muffled moans that escaped him, the tingling in her continued to increase, ,,Ma-Martin", she eventually burst out breathlessly, barely able to say anything right as she lost herself in his love and lust.

His breath came hotly towards her as he entangled her in one last kiss as his fingers slid in and out of her one last time, the taste of love and herself she could feel as she writhed against him, her moans mingling with his sighs as her climax was his pain and watching her melt beneath him.

Eyes closed, her chest rising and falling, she realised that the matzo was threatening to lighten as if he wanted to leave, ,,I'll…wait outside," she heard his soft voice, saw that he was licking his lips, reddening his cheeks at this obscene act as if he hadn't just seconds before pressed her completely naked against me and licked her centre.

She moved her fingers slightly, searching for his hand, ,,Please stay with me, Martin," she said, her voice slightly more composed as she pulled the blanket over him with some effort and stroked his cracked knuckles, which were little more than coloured spots.

It took the black-haired man a moment before he almost smiled a little and lay with her, the two of them looking at each other as she placed his hand on her hip, telling him that it was all right as he held her and she could finally close her eyes in peace as she felt his arms around her and kissed him peacefully as she fell asleep with a ,,Thank you…sleep well my heart" from him before her tired mind drifted off into a peaceful relaxed but above all pleasurable sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@dixie-elocin , @pierrotlu , @youre-gonna-see-a-lot-of-me , @paloman18 , @reylatargaryen , @fan-goddess

#ewan mitchell #in the modern world #ewan mitchell as martin #martin x reader #in the modern world martin #male x female #reader is female

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pressplay-if · 6 months ago

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Hey so you dont have to answer this message since this might be triggering, but I just wanted to thank you for writing this story

A few months ago I was in a really dark place and was even planning on ending it all, but while I was scrolling through Tumblr desperately looking for ifs that sound at least somewhat interesting since all my actual interests didn't bring me any joy anymore, I found your if

If I remember correctly I only decided to read your story because it had bands in it and I remember playing a different if with bands in it that I liked a lot and also I liked the aesthetic you used for your page

So when I played it and it came to the background story for Mc it kinda made me think maybe there is hope

Needless to say I got help, stayed in a psychiatric hospital for three months and on Friday I'll be discharged so yeah

Just wanted to let you know your story helped someone and that you're a cool bean

Hey there! I really wanted to respond because this ask is so important to me, so I hope the trigger warning tags are enough to post this.

Thank you so much for telling me about your experience, this made me feel such a deep sense of comfort and happiness for you. Losing joy in your usual interests is always a big warning sign. I'm so so glad you connected with my "brain juice" by chance and that you gained something from it. I was in the exact same place at certain points in my life, so I think it's not crazy to say I probably relate to how you must have felt at this time. It's truly great to hear you took that step and got professional help. I hope your stay at the hospital was a good experience, and I sincerely wish you the best of luck for this next part :)

#tw mental illness #tw mention of sh #pressplay if #mental health

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samijey · 3 months ago

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okay i’m so glad you didn’t think that sami would turn heel last monday (or anytime soon) because i trust your judgement on this and i cannot stand the thought of that man going to the dark side. he’s too pure.

I appreciate you! However, I think Sami getting back in touch with his heelish tendencies is a very exciting prospect and one that fans of the character and his dynamic with Jey (platonic or not) should look forward to - I'll tell you why under the break because I started typing and all of a sudden I was several paragraphs in oof ✋😩

Firstly, it's counterproductive to think of any wrestling character as "too good"" or "too evil" - anyone worth scrutinizing has shades of grey and is therefore susceptible to positive AND negative influences - be those coming from within themselves or from outside sources. Pro-Wrestling is a medium where storytelling is largely told via conflict, whether that comes from betrayal, friendly competition, manipulation, etc feuding is how relationships deepen and how characters grow and evolve.

Sami and Jey are already way outside the norm in the sense that they've kept contact on screen for years since their feud ended just to keep reminding us how close they are and to reap the benefits of a great storyline by simply giving them 20-30 seconds of screen time on a regular basis to just be cute and pop the crowd - this simply does not happen in WWE. Name me 2 other characters who constantly interact backstage across the span of years without being in a feud/faction/tag team - it's just not a thing they like to waste time on (which sucks and robs us of depth but that's a whole other rant). Now, for and for as nice as it is to see them support each other and maintain the friendly status quo for so long, this is still wrestling and if we want their relationship to gain new layers, worthwhile conflict is something we SHOULD want, as long as it is well written and well timed (I know the performance aspect will be stellar, so that part doesn't worry me).

They got to the point they did - a fan favorite duo with a tremendously underrated amount of iconic moments and dialogues exchanged - BY WORKING THROUGH CONFLICT. The fact that Jey was the heel for most of their feud and was pushed into reconnecting with his better self by a babyface Sami "who saw the good in him the whole time and never gave up on him" should honestly have everyone salivating at the prospect of them feuding again with the roles reversed. Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't want to see Jey be the one to help pull Sami back into the light when he comes dangerously close to losing himself??? To give Jey the opportunity to cut amazingly emotional promos like this again?? That's what shipping gold is made of, come on!! Think of the parallels! The call-backs! The devastatingly sad looks of longing making a comeback but now with 3 years of baggage to give it 10x more depth!! THE EVENTUAL REUNION ONCE THEY'VE MADE PEACE ONCE AGAIN AND ARE BACK TOGETHER AND THEIR BOND IS STRONGER THAN EVER FROM HAVING SURVIVED A WHOLE NEW SET OF TRIALS AND HARDSHIPS??? I understand some people don't want to see their faves have conflict, but that is inevitable in wrestling and it's how iconic dynamics are cemented.

Let's also not forget Sami was a full heel for a LONG time, so there's a whole catalogue of past tendencies and behaviors to pull from. Back then, manipulation and a disheartening win/loss record were the trigger for him turning heel, not any dark impulses of his own (strong reason why I'll always argue he's a natural babyface), so should he get back in touch with his heelish side, I'm adamant that the most in-character way to do it is to again have others dripping venom in his ear and a sustained string of losses - both of which are already at play (shout-out to Karrion, Seth and Drew especially, dem nasty haters). Hell, the fact that the ball has been rolling for a while on these two points and Sami has firmly remained good speaks volumes to how much stronger of a character he is now, which is wonderful - and again - the reason why we need to put these characters through situations™ and have them struggle to overcome them.

At the end of the day, I have very VERY little trust in WWE to handle anything correctly EVER, but I do trust the performers to take what they're given and elevate it to the best it can be. I know there's still a whole goldmine of storytelling between Jey and Sami to explore, which says a lot considering they've been in each other's close orbit for 3 years now and there's still so much more we can do - in a perfect world we get a great, emotionally rich feud between them, a satisfying pay-off with them reuniting once more and FINALLY that tag run they kept teasing last Summer and Jey has been yapping about in interviews for aaaages - give that man his lil treat!

#carla answers a thing #sami zayn #jey uso #wwe #samijey #might as well tag it since this turned into an essay 💀

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uniquethingtastemaker · 3 months ago

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Do you have an AO3 for your fics?

I like to bookmark my fav fics to keep them all in one place so I can reread them when it strikes my fancy… plus, it sounds like your next few fics are going to be multichaptered beasts and those are often easier to work with over on AO3!

And of course, it means more readers get to experience your awesome writing. I can’t WAIT for the dream world fic to come out 👀

Yes, yes, I do. I don't usually put twst stuff over there because most of the fandom is here on Tumblr. However, I'm more than willing to cross-post. I also love AO3. Usually, there are more character x character and slash fics over there, so I didn't even think about it. Idk how to properly link my ao3 profile, but it's kcase21. I don't have anything for twst up rn, but feel free to follow/bookmark the one fanfic I do have lol

I'm also excited to start releasing fanfics for the Dreaming of You fanfic series! I have to finish them, but I'm already done with Riddle and Azul's first dreams. Since you sent a question to my inbox, it's only fair to update you! Again, I love engaging with people. Please, tell me your thoughts about which fanfics you're looking forward to lol

The hefty Rook x Observant Reader fanfic has been slow. Honestly, I need some outside help and my friends/beta readers are busy. While I'm giving you an update, I might throw my dilemma out there. (usually, I wouldn't do this, but it's not overly descriptive and I need help. If you're here, congratulations. Now, you will truly understand the depth at which I'm writing this)

I've created a section where Rook and Reader watch one of Vil's movies together. The scene(s) are meant to bring the couple closer together while giving insight into Vil, Rook, and Neige (even though Rook isn't an actor in the film, a character clearly embodies him). The core idea is that both actors are playing their real personalities. There are only a few differences, and those differences are very slight. However, they have a high impact on how Vil acts in the film. I aim for it to be too close for comfort. I want to shake Rook up a little. My question is…… actually, I just talked to someone about it and I have solved my issue! I was going to ask if I should go with my gut and flesh out more movie scenes with commentary between Reader and Rook. I decided I should. I also figured out what Rook and Reader will talk about. That was tripping me up, so I’m glad I got that settled.

I’ve been working on Riddle’s Dreaming of You. I mentioned in this post some fun, teaser details. There isn’t much more on that front... I suppose I can reveal that I just wrote the section in the second dream where Riddle orders everyone to chase the “imposters.” I’ve decided the thing that pushes Riddle over the edge to command his military is that the two Deuces keep arguing about “No! You’re lying!” There are other logical reasons why Riddle commands their arrest, but Deuce is the trigger. I feel like it’s a very accurate representation of him. This could be subject to change, but I thought it was funny.

Azul’s Dreaming of You is similar. I’ve been working on it, but there isn’t much to tell. The latest detailed update is with the Riddle link above.

Ahhh, the newish one. Silver’s Dreaming of You. I have a lot of news and thoughts about this one. This one has already gone through several rewrites and overhauls. It's nowhere near complete. I'm treating this like the Rook x Observant Reader fanfic. I'm taking a holistic approach and fleshing out more than just Silver because I'd be doing a disservice if I didn't. Canon Chapter 7 is all about family and it's written phenomenally. I don't want to come in and slap some superficial romance. It doesn't feel right. I'm having to do a lot of research on Diasomnia. The more I know, the more I’ll change.

To do this, I'm introducing the Reader into Diasomnia’s family dynamic before Chapter 7. I have to go through each character and establish their relationship with the Reader and how it grows. That’s extremely important. (I need Lilia to approve lol… actually, there is a sweet scene with Reader and him. He tells them to take care of his son and the others, but particularly Silver. It happens where they’re alone and it’s before Lilia’s going-away party. The Reader doesn’t know the full context of what that means *sobs*)

For Sebek, I'm excited to write his character. At the moment, I want Reader to change his point of view of his heritage and how it represents what Lilia and Malleus want. They want peace between the fae and humans. Sebek is a physical representation of that type of healthy union. I'm really excited about his transformation. I planned to be mean about it because I had some good lines and I was irritated at our boy. However, it would be better served in his Dreaming of You fanfic. "You're worried about sullying Malleus and Lilia's name? You don't have to. You've already done it." *mic drop*

I'm not sure about Malleus, but he's a cutie pie so he'll get love and attention too.

That's all for now!

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murfpersonalblog · 10 months ago

Text

"I agree that Lestat had nothing to do with [Paul's death] directly. However, if we remember that episode, Paul was like: 'That man is a devil, he got into my head!' And my whole thing was, I mean Lestat did get into his head.... I don't believe Lestat pushed him to do what he did? But obviously Paul was very mentally ill. That, mixed with him being hyper-religious and hyper-Christian, I feel like that intrusion of Lestat into his mind? Maybe it made him feel like his temple was unclean, or it made him feel like the devil got into my head and now I am soiled now I am bad. And it probably pushed him to do that. So I don't believe Lestat did do that to [Louis'] brother. But I think [Lestat's] intrusion into [Paul's] brain probably played a role in him doing that, so I'm glad they spoke on it here."

WOW | Interview With The Vampire 1x6 | Reaction & Commentary - FrankFreezy (23:23 - 24:37)

I LOVE this so much.

Cuz it goes back to what I was saying here: Louis has ALWAYS loved Lestat--beyond reason, religion, family, himself, Claudia AND Paul combined. I HATE when people act like Louis never loved Lestat, or never showed Lestat how much he loved him. Pay attention, y'all!

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - LDPDL: Burning Questions (Pt2)

EVERYONE called Lestat the Devil. Louis KNEW what Lestat did to Paul--both at the family dinner, and what Paul said later on the roof. He knew it was all true, cuz he'd seen it with his own eyes, and he'd FELT the same way--Louis felt unclean & soiled & bad, and RAN out of 1132 after they had sex the first time; and RAN to the confessional screaming "HELP ME, Father, he's in my head!" after Paul died.

But the gothic horror/romance is that despite seeing Les at his absolute worst, killing all those priests like an utter demon, LOU CHOSE LESTAT ANYWAY. And it's been (literally) KILLING him ever since. "I run to bad beds!" His 128+ dead men in SanFran are all Les!

It's why I love Ep5, as it's just more of the same: seeing Lestat at his worst and Lou STILL loving the monster AND the man in Ep6 (my fave episode in the whole series so far). Seeing Les try to kill Claudia in 1x7 and STILL mourning him all the way into 2x7.

There's A LOT of Les' trash Lou settles for & accepts, inc. even the suspicion that Les ad something to do with Paul's death; inc. Les abusing both him & Claudia. It's not until Les SPAT on Lou's love before a whole crowd of lynchers with "Come to Me" that the last straw broke how much Louis could forgive, cuz "Come to Me/Viens a moi" was when Les got into LOUIS' head and drove HIM to death (vampirism) too, literally in 1x1 & figuratively in 1x6.

The fandom doesn't talk about the dubcon/noncon/mind-rape of the Come to Me/church scene as much as we should, and how much of a violation it was for Les to be barging all up in Lou's head the way he was, while Lou was literally suffering an entire grief-triggered drunken suicidal mental breakdown. Lou's POV makes it seem more like lethal assault (I'm being mortally hunted; my life/soul's in danger by the white Devil). But Lestat/the script acknowledged the predatory nature of Come to Me during the Trial, when Les flipped it to make it seem like Lou had (sexually) assaulted HIM instead (my purity/chastity's in danger by the Black pimp).

This violation of their relationship is IT for Louis ("those were HIS words! F**k you!"). Their history is sullied, Lou's name & reputation (personhood) is dragged through the mud & soiled. ("I was dead.") With Claudia dead and Les betraying them by participating in the rigged Trial, Lou was able to believe Armand's weak AF lies for 77 years ("bad beds"); and sacrifice his love/marriage, "kill" Les & get divorced (Lou's most non-Catholic move of all, LOL) for good.

Les had ONE chance to be honest about the Trial (the 2x8 Tower Scene) & totally blew it by letting Armand get away with "Banishment." It all comes home (literally, in NOLA), when Lou finally stops running AWAY from uncomfortable truths, and asks the burning questions about Les that REALLY define their relationship.

Cuz it's not really about the Trial, or even Claudia; it's about Paul, the catalyst for Louis' entire arc--she was just the final/ultimate casualty. Everyone important in Lou's life has just been another replacement for Paul, "I loved him more than anyone on earth." All the people he had sit & TALK to him--Lily, Lestat, Claudia, Daniel, even Armand (to an extent), are all just Lou looking for Paul--understanding, acceptance, and love--i.e.: his companion. Someone he can confide all his secrets in, who won't judge/condemn him, and who'll accept & love him for who he is.

Sam said Les is Lou's "soulmate." Even though his heinous antics constantly proved Paul RIGHT, Lou also loved when Les put in the effort to prove Paul WRONG--he CAN behave & act like a human & charm the absolute pants off of Louis by just sitting on a park bench or sofa & TALKING to Louis; CONNECTING with Louis on a deeper level than even sex (which Lou already said is the best he's EVER had--and ya boi got around in the 70s-2000!).

But Les can also match Louis' freak; show his fangs, and be an utter monster Lou ALSO loves; cuz there's something dark in Louis too, that Jacob said "needs friction."

I said before that actual saints like Jonah & Paul are way too nice for Louis; too good & pure for this world. Lou LIKES Bad Boys; he likes men who're effed up & broken, cuz it makes HIM feel like he's not alone--HE'S not so bad after all. Vamps are just crabs in a bucket, and Lou's own hyper-Catholic brain treats it as a form of punishment, that he "deserves" effed up devils like Les & Armand. Beaten down all his life, and hating himself, full of self-loathing, Lou never knew his own worth--"let's meet vampires WORTHY of your love!" In 1x5 Lou stopped putting in the effort to take care of himself & their family/household ("ignoring all other duties of the role Claudia once mocked me for: the unhappy housewife"), and stopped confronting Lestat about his BS ("He treats us like sh*t and you take it! Why is that?!"). He's about to burn Les alive in 2x8, then just visibly gives up (puts the fire out), to "kill" Les by marrying Armand (who he's not even in love with, and who KNOWS Lou's only with him to spite Les) before the ink on Loustat's divorce papers are even dry.

It's only after Daniel FINALLY helps Louis claw his way out of Armand's clutches that he understands what Claudia meant about him having never known or loved himself ("Who are you, Louis?"). Lou's TRUTH AND RECONCILIATION required that he work on bettering himself, and allowing Lestat the chance to better himself too. That "friction" was toxic AF, and they both needed a real CLEANSING, which only started when Lou opened his mouth to ask Les the truth (the false-start in 1x6 about Paul; and the real-start in 2x8 about Armand).

So yeah, I love what Frank said, cuz IMO people in the fandom miss a lot of the horrible things Les does INDIRECTLY, in order to forgive the horrible things Les does DIRECTLY--just like Louis did. But just like Louis, it's possible (& totally valid) to love the man while acknowledging the ways he IS a monster, who needs to come clean & be honest, and start taking accountability for the ways he (in)directly contributed to both Louis & Claudia (& Paul's) demise.

#interview with the vampire #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #loustat #religion #iwtv tvc metas #vampires #demonology #louis de pointe du black

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moonsuke · 2 months ago

Text

Blue Lock 302

FINALLY!!!! FINALLY WE GET THE NAGI TEARS AFTER ALL THESE CHAPTERS!! Its cathartic af but also 😭😭😭😭😭 The way it gets progressively worst once it finally hits man like I died and cried like Nagi 😭😭😭😭😭

Initially, I thought Nagi's gonna cry right after Manshine lost their final match just cause of how scared he looked before, and tbh I was also quite annoyed that Reo got to cry in chapter 300 yet not Nagi, but I'm really glad it turned out the way it did now.

I really like how this chapter progressed cause it shows us Nagi’s the kind of character who takes a while before his emotions and the reality of the situation hits him. Pretty in character considering how new he is to experiencing emotions, set backs, and anything really.

It was so sad seeing him think that everything's fine and that he’s okay with going back to the life he once had because it shows he’s not even aware how affected he is. We see him living through his daily routine again like at the start of epinagi (very cute), yet every little moment just keeps reminding him of another life he’s lived. With each moment, it’s just getting harder and harder for him to hang on to the façade that “it’s fine”.

It was especially heartbreaking when he was sitting alone at his desk surrounded by classmates and thinking "its fine" "its fine" yet no one actually spoked to him at all throughout the day. Even at the end of the day when everyone has left, he's still just sitting there alone with no one bothering to check up on him. It really hammers in how ALONE Nagi is outside of Blue Lock and how well-loved he is in there with so many cute interactions with so many people. And this is before we even get to his backstory too btw which oh man, I’m sure that’s gonna be another painful experience, child neglect and all.

This boy was okay (comparatively) with having zero friends before Blue Lock but now that’s he’s changed (for good lol…), he just can’t go back to life the way it used to be at all. Not after experiencing friendship and various bonds… the loneliness would hit hard…

I love how his breaking point was seeing his schoolmates playing soccer though (I mean, it’s a soccer manga). That, along with everything before, finally triggered his realization of how miserable he actually is. All his emotions that he was unaware of and subconsciously trying to repress finally hit, and when the dam breaks… The entire sea of regret, longing and sense of loss just overflows. In the end, Nagi really did grow to enjoy soccer for all the heat, fire and excitement it brought him, for allowing him to feel alive and be born from his previously “dead” existence. I just really like this point, that soccer and Blue Lock both mattered to him.

Him reflecting how these feelings were so new to him that he wasn’t aware of them until this moment also broke me, cuz it’s really hammering in how this is the FIRST time he’s experiencing all these emotion. Yet, he has to experience and deal with all these ALONE with no one around him to comfort him at all. Really making me wonder how many things he’d to deal with alone before…

The way he makes himself so small, the way he holds himself while crying all alone in that classroom is really heartbreaking... This page really shows how much of a child he really is, baby chick in everything and all. He even looks so small when he's 190cm… Every page is really just more pain stack on top of more pain. I usually don't like to put manga panels in my rambles just cause I wanna keep the stream of word vomit going but this chapter man... Too many panels that just hits harder and harder as we go along...

How he went from trying to forget everything at the beginning of the chapter to “I’ll never forget it (Blue Lock) as long as I live” feels like a reference to “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind” since he’s finally choosing to remember rather than forget even if that brings with it all the pain of loss, regret and tears. Which reminds me I need to watch that movie before the next epinagi chapter, since its titled “Eternal Sunset”…

I wonder if knsr will continue to make links between both series cuz he did it again with the latest epinagi chapter too...with Nagi realizing he's scared "that this fire will disappear", “I wanna stay inside this fire forever", “I wanna stay excited forever", “I wanna never wake up from this dream" all these are like a prelude to this chapter lol. As I said, knsr must really be having fun linking the series for Nagi and hammering in the pain of his downfall. Its like his pen just flows writing all these parallels... Truly his fav.

And finally... the money shot... 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 Its borderline bizarre but also so real and impactful seeing its NAGI, our usually expressionless and nonchalant genius, crying so hard like this (Still so pretty tho even when ugly crying with snot 😭😭😭😭😭). Every time I look at this panel I tear up, but that happens for the other ones too… I think the panel and moment that hits me the hardest is still the one when he first realized "why am I so miserable?" cause that's when shit went downhill fast....

Here, he says he wants to “go back to how I used to be but I can’t” which is again, so painful to read. He wants to feel that fire with everyone and feel alive again so bad but he knows his daily existence just couldn’t do that for him. Not after finally realising how empty his existence was his whole life before something better showed up, but now having to go back to it again. I know this is a manga about Blue Lock and soccer but seeing this, I really hope Nagi manages to find a way to feel fired up again even outside Blue Lock. I feel like him thinking like this means he still has a lot of growth to do because life really is more than Blue Lock. There’s others ways that can allow him to go back to how he used to be (cue accepting his offer?).

Plus he’s still seeing Blue Lock as some youthful place where he got to gain all these new experiences and personal growth when it’s actually a prison for them to fight to the “death” to become the best in the world. I wonder if this is just another sign he needs to grow more and out of this naive mentality. I know it’s what resulted in his lock off and it’s what was criticised but I just have to say I do really like this youthful, pure, naive side to him, it makes him so precious…but it’ll probably be gone eventually right? 😭 (Unless?? 👀👀)

So yea… I’m really looking forward to how his rebirth's handled and I wonder if we’ll get his backstory? Please knsr, treat it with as much care and love as you've doing for his death PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭 You showed us baby Nagi for a reason right???

Now for some light hearted things lol

I'm so giddy over this panel since I'm pretty sure knsr included this as a dig at Reo fangirls/shippers lol. I wonder if he's as annoyed at them as me cause damn they be ruining my fandom experience fr making EVERYTHING about ships and Reo like leave my babygirl "alone"!!! Maybe knsr got exceptionally fed up with the fandom's response to Nagi's death or something? Lol. Cuz it’s supposed to be Nagi centric!!!

This also reminds me of that panel of Himizu from epinagi. Pretty sure the same group of people are the ones making Nagi out to be some manipulative psychological harasser or something, and pretty sure knsr included that to call them out too lol. Glad to see him always having Nagi's back, he's the biggest Nagi fan fr :p

I really do like that Nagi's relationship with Reo took a backseat this chapter. I feel like after 300, everything is wrapped up nicely for them, Nagi even doubled down on their duo being detrimental for both of them right before he left, so we can move on to a new stage/arc for both of them. I do wonder if Nagi’s kinda repressing his memories of Reo or not this chapter though but either way, I'm reaaaaaally hoping to see individual developments for both of them now. I'm not here to dismiss their bond (I'm a casual ReoNagi shipper after all) but please, no more draggy melodramatic moments... Epinagi be teasing us with how hype they both are on their own so I'm hoping we can see that in bllk too. (I’ve so much to rant about how different bllk second selection Nagi and epinagi’s are but that’s a whole other rant).

Speaking of epinagi, that baby nagi art... I wanna ramble about it (and epinagi 34) separately but its so funny how I've been saying knsr is going for the "Nagi is baby" agenda but now he really is baby 😭 I love how its released on his birthday (and children's day) and right before his tears too... I wonder if its a prelude to his backstory coming in the main series or something...

And I swear... knsr please don't let this be the last we see of Nagi for a while... Like ending it here would just be CRUEL. I don't mind if he disappeared for a while later BUT I NEED TO SEE THIS CRYING SESSION RESOLVED FIRST PLEASE. Imma go with more IsaNagi parallels, that after this low point, Nagi's gonna receive some news from Buratsuta (or Ray Dark lol), or maybe he's gonna accept his offer from the club. I’m so curious who gave that offer, for everyone else’s offers too actually. My delulu ass wants Nagi’s to be from Re Al lolllll 🤡

#ms #nagi seishiro #blue lock #manga #blue lock 302

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cheri-2047 · 1 year ago

Note

Helloooo do you write for aventurine from hsr?

If you do, would it be possible to request an aventurine x gn reader where he tries to comfort the reader who has religious trauma? If that's a little too complicated then something like aven trying to comfort the reader when they were suddenly reminded about their trauma from parents.

I'm really just desperately trying to make myself feel better 😭 anw the decision is still up to you <3 I hope you have a wonderful day and I hope that you stay safe and healthy, take care!! 💞💐

IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭 I LOST MOTIVATION TO WRITE ANYTHING 😞😞 I’d love to write this for you but I’m not so sure on what religious trauma is so I focused on reader getting triggered by their parents instead, I hope that’s okay. Please don’t hesitate to comment if I mischaracterized him, this is based off what I see online since I don’t play hsr, thank you!

Aventurine comfort:

TAGS: slight mentions of self harm, hair pulling (out of stress) angst, fluff and comfort at the end

CHARACTERS: Aventurine

You were on your way home after meeting up with your parents. It’s been awhile since you last saw them so you thought you’d pay them a visit.

They welcomed you with open arms and were very glad that you came over, your mother excitedly sharing new stories of what’s happened while you moved away and your father just simply listening to you two.

Everything was smooth sailing, you had fun with them, sharing laughs and all until it all went down the drain.

“haha…” you chuckled it off. You hated hearing about the incident that had happened. Your parents brushed it off by now as a joke, but to you it was anything BUT that.

you continued to catch up to them, holding up a smile to get away the memories that ran through your brain.

stop stop stop

You clenched your hands tightly, continuing to laugh along with the “jokes” your parents made. You couldn’t stop thinking about it now, everything that happened, everything that you worked so hard to forget, all of it GONE just because of a few simple words.

“I might be home a bit late sweetheart, please don’t stay up waiting for me. Love you”

Your phone buzzed, a message from your boyfriend, Aventurine.

perfect.

You took this to your advantage, deciding it was a good excuse.

“Ah I need to go home, sorry mama, urgent things at work.”

You made a white lie. You knew it was a bad thing to lie, it would make you a sinner, but you would do anything right now to get away from that so called ‘home’

“I hope you visit again, we love you”

Your father kissed you on the forehead, before both waving off.

You quickly shuffled to your car, driving as fast as you can away from your parent’s home. You were thankful for your boyfriend’s text, not only can you have alone time but you also were able to lie with getting home.

You drove faster, the music louder, anything to try and get the flooding memories away. You clenched the wheel tightly, taking rough turns, completely ignoring your surroundings.

shut up shut up shut up shut up

please.

You reached your home, running to your bedroom, your safe place.

You opened the television, had your snacks around you and all but for some reason, nothing would work. The thoughts still lingered at the back of your mind, the unspoken memories, the things you’ve tried to hard to forget.

Little did you know, you ended up spiraling. Your eyes on the TV, your mind elsewhere. It all came back too quickly, too much for you, the way you were treated, the rules you were forced to have, the life you so desperately wanted to escape, and it felt like you were back. “…y/n… y/n? Hey hey-“

you got started by the sound, only to realize you had been pulling your hair a lot,

“ah- y-you’re back earl-“

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, Aventurine pulled your hands away from your hair,

“Shh, shh… there there”

he rubbed his hand on your back, you leaned into his touch, before looking down to see blood on your fingernails. “What happened?”

Aventurine pulled away, cupping your cheeks and rubbing your hand, careful not to touch the skin you picked.

You didn’t even notice it, but you were crying. You had tears run down your face as if your eyes were waterfalls.

“I visited my parents today”

“mh…did they do anything?”

“they just…mentioned something and I got triggered and started spiraling I guess…”

as you spoke, aventurine started to wrap some bandages around your fingers.

“What did they say?”

(cutting this part off here so you can like…. Explain to him ykyk. He doesn’t know much of your trauma so u explain that you went through that before)

“Oh sweetheart…”

he wiped your tears and kissed you on the cheek, before hugging you and hurrying your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know that’s ever happened, why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to remember…”

he frowned and pulled you closer,

“I’m sorry…. If you’re up to going to your parents again, I’ll be here to accompany you. If you don’t, then that’s alright, I understand.”

he kisses the top of your head multiple times, hoping to sooth you with his affection.

He intertwined his hand with yours as he continues to speak reassuring words. “I am always here for you, alright my dearest? If you feel triggered by anything ever again, please don’t hesitate to tell me. I’m never ‘too busy’ for you or any of that. I love you”

you smile as he tells you how he has your back and how he will never leave and swear to always protect you. As you stop crying, he starts to clean up the snacks you left and comes back with more of your favorite foods.

“I got some before I left work”

he chuckles, lying next to you on the bed as you two stayed in the comfort of each others arms.

“I love you, I always will and I will never stop.”

He presses a kiss to your lips, pulling away to see your smile, which makes him smile as well.

A/N: OKAY… so I tried to make it like him as much as I could, I think he’s the type to gen take things seriously in scenarios like this, and the part where he like… pushes(?) your head to his neck for comfort, that means a lot since I hc him to not like being touched there or anyone touching him there either, so yeah. Thanks for requesting and I hope this is ok!! Comments are appreciated (for tips, if I mischaracterized or just to say hi) I hope ure okay dude, if you want more of these feel free to request

#Hsr #star rail #x reader #aventurine #aventurine x reader #Fluff #headcanons #aventurine fluff #Hsr x reader #Star rail x reader #star rail aventurine #aventurine hsr

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thenasoneshots · 1 year ago

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Lafayette Oneshot - Because Fuck You, That's Why!

Requested?: No

Prompt: 6."I-I'm pregnant." 7. "I'll be here for you, through the dark." 11. "You gotta stop doing that." "Doing what?" "Saying things that make me want to kiss you!"

Type of oneshot: Angst/Fluff

Timing: Modern AU

Reader's Relations: John’s Sister

Warnings: None If any of this is triggering, please let me know and I’ll warn for it next time!

Other notes: You live with John

-------------------------

I sobbed as I hid myself under the covers, forgetting that I hadn’t locked the door to my room.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n), what happened?”

“Hmm.”

“What exactly does ‘Hmm’ mean?” John asked, pulling the covers back so he could see my tear-stained face.

“It means ‘None of your fucking business’. Leave me alone, please,” I muttered, sending him the middle finger.

“(Y/n), I’m your brother. I am not leaving this room until you tell me.”

“I-I’m pregnant,” I spoke in an almost whisper, hoping he hadn’t heard, but when I felt a hand on my shoulder, I knew he had, “I’ll be here for you. Through the dark.”

I smiled slightly and dried my eyes, “T-thank you.”

“Do you know who the father is?”

I shook my head, “All I know is it’s some French guy.”

“Okay. That’s fine with me. I won’t judge you, (Y/n). Anything I can get you?” John asked, his normal cinnamon roll self returning after being concerned about me. I just shook my head, “Not right now, but thank you.”

--------------------------------JOHN’S POV

“What’s got you so worked up?”

“Nothing,” I replied, looking at my phone for the thousandth time that minute, my leg jittering uncontrollably.

“Something’s wrong. John, we’re your friends, we can tell when you’re bothered by something.”

“Okay fine. I’m worried about (Y/n). She went out this morning and said she’d text me when she was nearly home. I still have not received that text, and I can’t help but think that something has happened,” I answered, wracking my hands through my hair.

“Oh.”

“Really? That’s all you say?”

Before anything else could be said, there was the sound of a door opening and some muttering. Then I heard a familiar voice, “Uncle John! Look what Mumm-” the young girl cut herself off before dashing out the same way she’d come.

YOUR POV

“Mummy! Why didn’t you tell me Uncle John had people over!”

“Huh? What are you talking about, Sweetie?” I asked, bending down to Marié’s level, and wiping the tears from her eyes.

“There’s people sitting in the living room with Uncle John and I don’t know who they are, or that they would be here!”

“It’s okay, Sweetie. We can ask your Uncle about it,” I replied, picking her up and walking into the living room, “John?”

“(Y/n)! I’m so glad you’re alright! Why didn’t you text me?!”

“Phone died,” I replied. I’ll put it on charge when I go upstairs. Sorry.”

“Mon ami, are you going to introduce us to this belle famme here or are we going to have to make assumptions?”

“Oh sorry. This is (Y/n). My little sister. (Y/n), Meet my friends; Alexander, but we all just call him Alex,” John spoke, pointing to a relatively short guy with dark brown hair pulled back into a low ponytail, “Hercules,” a taller male with a bandana wrapped around his head, and “And Lafayette. His name is too long, so we all just call hi-” John stopped talking when I let out a small gasp and turned around, running out of the room and up to my bedroom, letting myself slide down the door once inside and muttering to myself.

JOHN’S POV

“Do you have something to say, Laf?”

“Whatever do you mean, Mon ami? I’ve never seen her before.”

“Then why’d she run off the minute she made eye contact with you?” I asked, turning to him, raising an eyebrow, “She knows you.”

I could tell he was trying to wrack his brain, when I felt an arm wrap around my legs, “Uppy!” I bent down and picked Marié up. As the five-year-old started to play with my hair, I continued to stare Laf down. Then it clicked, “Laf, don’t tell me… You don’t happen to be Marié’s father, do you?”

“Mon ami, that is an absurd thought. I told you already I have never met ta souer before. How could that even happen?”

I sighed and sat down on the sofa again, Marié now happily sitting in my lap, “Laf, like how you can tell when something is worrying me, I can tell when you’re lying. (Y/n) knows you.”

Before he could reply, my phone pinged. I picked it up and looked at the message to see it was from (Y/n): “Can you ask Lafayette to come upstairs? He deserves to know…”

“Laf, my sister wants to talk to you. You ‘deserve to know’ something.”

YOUR POV

By the time I sent John a message, I was sitting on my bed, wracking my hands through my hair That’s when I heard a knock on the door, “Excuse moi, may I come in?”

“Yes,” I responded, trying to calm myself down.

“(Y/n)... John thought of something downstairs..”

“Yes. You’re Marié’s father. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to you, but I didn’t know I was pregnant until I got back to America, and by that point, it was too late. “C-Could you ever forgive me?” I muttered, my shoulders wracking with the sobs I was letting out.

“Mon ami,” he replied, bending down in front of me and placing his hands on my shoulders comfortingly, “I should be the one asking for your forgiveness. I am the one who got you pregnant, and I haven’t done anything to help with the result of it.”

“You didn’t know she existed, Laf,” I muttered, reaching up and wiping a tear from his cheek, “You’ve got to stop doing that, you know.”

“Doing what?”

“Doing things that make me want to kiss you,” I answered, my face going bright red.

“Y-you want to kiss moi?”

“Y-yeah. Honestly, when we met in France, I fell in love with you, and the night Marié happened, I wasn’t actually that drunk. I’m sorry if this is creeping you out, I mean, I’m just your friend’s sister now. The past is the past, right?” Instead of a response, Laf just removed a hand from my shoulder and placed it on my cheek, “Mon ami, may I kiss you?”

And… my face was bright red again, “Y-you feel the same?” Again, there was no verbal response, only a nod. I nodded back and leaned in, kissing him, soon finding myself lying down on my bed, Laf hovering over me.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!”

I immediately broke off at the sound of my brother’s voice, as I turned to see his face; red with anger, “LAF THAT IS MY SISTER!”

“Et c'est ma petite amie,” Laf replied, causing me to blush for the third time in ten minutes. Due to my French knowledge, I knew he’d just called me his girlfriend.

“Fine. You hurt her, you’re dead, Laf.”

----------------------

“Marié, how would you feel about getting a little sibling?” I asked the now eight-year-old as I fiddled with the ring on my left finger. Her face immediately lit up, “Really?!”

I nodded and she squealed, running off happily, probably to tell her friends. I stood up, however, I could feel eyes boring into me from behind, “Why are you asking Marié that specific question, (Y/n)?”

“Because fuck you, that’s why, John. My love life is none of your business.”

—----------------------------------END OF ONESHOT

Finally back to writing Hamilton oneshots hehe.

#Hamilton #Hamilton x Reader #marquis de lafayette #lafayette x reader #x reader #hamilton the musical

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mlmxreader · 6 months ago

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Warm Welcome | Alan Grant x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hello! Could I get "I got all your favorite horror films ready to go, a couple of blankets, snacks, and uh... well, I'm here too" (147) with Alan Grant? ❞

: ̗̀➛ When Grant comes home, there's only a handful of things on his mind, including finally settling down with his significant other.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

spotlight fundraiser : ̗̀➛ Help Abd Al Rahman and his family

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Everything was dark.

The lights were all off, and the only bit of illumination came from the television in the bedroom; the blue and green hues reflecting and bouncing from the walls with ease. Although the volume was all too quiet to be heard from the downstairs porch.

Grant smiled to himself, welcoming the familiar scents that drifted around and the hushed noises from the various electrical equipment that had been placed on timers.

Day and night cycles were important, apparently. He couldn't say he knew much about it.

He was warm at last, after travelling through in taxis with the window rolled down and the winter air in his face and his hair, the shivers that refused to budge from his thighs and biceps; he was warm. Home was warm.

Especially now that his work had been done for the day and he had a day off tomorrow, he was so fucking glad to feel warm again; even as he went up the stairs with his boots tied onto the inside of the door he had locked and closed behind him - a new habit thanks to you - he couldn't help but to feel so fucking warm.

So welcomed.

He found you lying in bed with the duvet and two blankets, wearing one of his knitted jumpers that he often wore when he was giving talks during the winter; he could see, ever so slightly, the waistband of your boxers resting just on your hip, and sighed as he hung his hat up beside the long tank with the massive blueish black scorpion.

"Honey, I'm home."

You glanced over at him and moved to make enough room, even going so far as to nudge the packet of biscuits slightly his way. "You wanna watch this really shit soap opera with me?"

"Actually..." Grant shrugged the bag from his shoulder and dumped it next to you as he smiled sheepishly. "I figured I'd treat you now I'm back - I got all your favorite horror films ready to go, a couple of blankets, snacks, and uh... well, I'm here too."

You gestured for him to sit next to you as you rummaged through the bag; grinning and clasping the nearest film. "How'd you know that I was waiting to see this one?!"

Grant hummed as he stood back and scratched at his bearded jaw.

He couldn't tell you that Ellie had picked it out when he was just a bit over his head with that sort of thing; he gave it a moment, then started to undress whilst you put the film on. Comfortable silence and drifting together once instinct had taken over fully.

He rested on his side, propped up on his elbow and resting his head on your shoulder as he picked at the biscuits in the tin.

"Doctor Grant, how on earth are you comfortable?" You chuckled, pressing play on the television remote.

Grant hummed again as he moved around a little; lying on his back, he kept his head against his shoulder and allowed his left hand to rest at your back. "Is this better?"

"Actually..." you moved around a little, just enough to fisget and get your head on his chest, your hand on his stomach and the biscuits on his lap. "This is better."

He wanted to laugh, but as the opening credits for the film started to roll, and the eerie music began to swell, he couldn't help but to focus on the warmth.

The warmth of your body being so close to his own.

The warmth of your skin.

The warmth of the blankets.

The warmth of the room.

The warmth of home.

Slowly, his eyes were beginning to betray him; curtains were starting to be drawn tightly to shut out the light and allow the night to infect everything.

He should have come home earlier.

But as his head began to droop to one side, and he was struggling to stay awake as his breathing became slow and even.

"Oh, and Alan?"

"Mmhm?"

You gently tapped his chest, drumming your fingers on the coarse hairs for a moment. "I'm so glad you're home now... I forgot what it was like to sleep together."

Grant smiled to himself, letting his entire body go limp and lax as he bit back the urge to yawn; snuggled into you, he couldn't remember the last time he was so fucking comfortable and so fucking happy.

Sure, it wasn't uncommon for him to spend the night with you, as most couples did so naturally, but there were moments when you were both reminded of how great it was; when he was away and he came home, it was a reminder of how lucky you were to have found one another, and how lucky you both were to be able to snuggle up together at night.

You could feel him dropping off to sleep as the film continued to play, and although you would have laughed at it on any other day, and even dabbled in the idea of taking a picture or two to joke around with him about it the next morning, you couldn't bring yourself to.

You could only gently move the snacks and biscuits and everything else aside, and allowed him to fall into you with his head on your stomach just below your chest; your hand went to his hair, gently combing through the strands and scratching at his scalp as he groaned and shifted around to get closer.

"Y'know, Alan," you hummed, not really caring that he wasn't paying any attention. "I really love it when you come home all snuggly and tired."

Grant didn't so much as twitch a muscle, already mostly drifted off and sound asleep; even the screaming and shouting and bloodshed on the television wouldn't wake him, now. A thunderstorm might have, but you doubted it as you continued to play with his hair.

He looked good with a beard, though. Maybe you could tell him in the morning that you wanted him to keep it.

Probably.

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wrestlersownmyheart · 6 days ago

Text

"Tweet Of Fate" Chapter 4 (Damian Priest X OC)

Title: Tweet Of Fate Pairing: Damian Priest X OC: Sharlotte Taylor Summary: Little did Sharlotte Taylor know that her first little tweet to WWE wrestler, Damian Priest, would change her life forever. Hearing about his nasty breakup with his girlfriend, and seeing so many hateful tweets to him regarding his failed relationship, she wants to send him something encouraging, so she sends him an inspirational quote. It sparks Damian's interest and leads to a flirty, but close online friendship between the two. A friendship that turns into a little something more than either of them had counted on.

Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content/Trigger Warnings: None

Chapter 4

One Month Later…

Feeling better than he had in the past three years, Damian drove up into his driveway, pulled inside the garage and killed the engine. Unlike the way he had hesitated a month before, he instantly got out of his car and grabbed his rolling luggage out of the trunk. Heading for the door to the kitchen, he opened the door and stepped inside. His eyes instantly fell on Jasmine sitting at the kitchen table, eating a salad.

At hearing his footsteps, she turned to face him, and her face broke into a huge grin.

"Oh, Damian! I'm so glad you're home!" She ran to him and threw herself into his arms. "I was so afraid you'd never come back!"

Damian had pulled back and smiled down at her, "Relax babe. Everything has a way of working out."

Jasmine smiled up at him, her green eyes lighting up in excitement. "We need to celebrate!"

Damian nodded, "I'm way ahead of ya. You've got a special delivery that should be here in a little while. Now, why don't you go upstairs and pack your suitcase?"

"A trip," Jasmine asked happily, playing with her long, dark brown ponytail.

"Yep," Damian smiled, and flashed a dimple at her. "Wherever you want to go. I think a nice long trip will really ease some of the tension in our relationship."

Jasmine's forehead wrinkled in confusion then. "Well, babe, I agree. This is great...But, I thought you were going back to work now that you're officially off your suspension."

Damian shrugged and laid his hand on the counter. "I'll manage. One way or another," he answered.

Before she had a chance to think about his cryptic statement, he took her hand and squeezed it. "Get up there and start packing, woman!"

Giggling, Jasmine did as he said and ran up the staircase to their bedroom, while Damian rolled his luggage to the laundry room down the hall. He pulled all of his clothing out along with some of the newer items he'd bought while he was living out of a hotel room. Piling them in the large washer, he began running the water and adding the liquid detergent and softener. He had just shut the washer door and was heading out of the room when he heard the doorbell chime.

He hurried through the foyer to the front door and opened it. A uniformed postal worker stood at the door.

"Is a Jasmine Greenberg here," the postman asked, glancing down at his clipboard.

Damian smiled, "Yes, she is. Feel free to step inside. She's upstairs. I'll go get her."

Leading the postman into the large home's foyer, he jogged up the stairs and to the bedroom he shared with his girlfriend. "Jasmine? You need to come down and sign for your package. Are you through packing?"

"Yes," Jasmine smiled, and kissed him as she walked by him. "Why couldn't you sign for the package," she asked, heading down the stairs with Damian right behind her. "Is it some sort of new rule or regulation?"

"I don't know. Probably," Damian answered. "Hurry up though. I want to see the look on your face when you see what's inside."

This made Jasmine's steps speed up drastically. Eager to see what surprise Damian had got her, she stepped into the foyer and met the postman.

"Hi," she greeted, as the postman handed her the clipboard.

"Hi," he returned, "If you'll sign right here and date it, it's all yours."

"Great," Jasmine smiled, and scrawled her signature and the date on the form. In the next instant, the postman took the clipboard back and passed a thin box over to Jasmine.

"Thank you," she grinned, and began opening the box as the postman headed out their front door.

"Careful," Damian said. "I wouldn't want you to damage it. It's more valuable than you could imagine."

"Oh, Damian..." she smiled. "I just know I'll love it." She continued gingerly opening the box until she could safely reach inside and pull out its contents. She found herself looking down at a sheet of paper. The top of it read in big bold letters:

EVICTION NOTICE

Speechless, Jasmine looked up at John, her green eyes shooting daggers.

"What is this," she demanded.

"Well, it looks like an eviction notice," Damian answered bluntly, pulling no punches.

"No way. This doesn't work Damian. I am not leaving you."

"I'm not asking you to leave. I'm telling you to. Don't fight me on this, Jasmine. I've done my homework, trust me. I don't just jump in and do something. I think it over, and I research my decisions. You can't stop me from kicking you out of here."

Jasmine growled out a colorful curse, throwing the paper and box at him.

"I'd take care of that if I were you," Damian taunted. "You just signed the proof that it was delivered to you. If you destroy it, or ignore it you'll be in a whole LOT of trouble. You really don't have a choice, Jasmine," Damian said. "You have zero control over the situation. I know that's driving you up the wall, and I can't lie and say I'm not enjoying it."

"You cruel...piece of..." Jasmine spluttered out an incoherent insult.

"Maybe I am," Damian said with a shrug. "But at least I'm walking out of this relationship with my freedom back intact, along with my balls. You'll be leaving with what you came into the relationship with. Nothing."

"What are you talking about? You can't take gifts back!"

"Jasmine, Jasmine, Jasmine," Damian clicked his tongue, "Do you really want me to post that footage of you online?"

She screamed in rage, then and lunged at him, her hands ready to claw his eyes out.

Damian quickly and easily dodged her attack and then grabbed her arms in an attempt to restrain her and avoid injury.

"Jasmine, calm down, or I'll have you arrested for domestic violence. I rarely toss my name around to get what I want, but so help me if you lay one finger on me I'll call the cops so fast your head will swim."

She screamed again and struggled against his hands. He was careful to hold her tight enough so she couldn't get loose, but loosely enough so he didn't bruise her. The last thing he needed was her accusations of domestic abuse.

"Now, are you calm enough, or do I need to restrain you a little longer," he asked.

She glared at him, but said quietly, "Let me go."

"Fine."

He loosened his hold on her wrists.

"You sorry excuse for a man," Jasmine spat. "Why did you do all this? You said we were taking a trip. You said we'd worked everything out!"

Damian shook his head, "Nope. What I actually said was that "everything has a way of working out". And it is working out. For me. And as for the trip...all I said was for you to go pack. And to go wherever you wanted." He paused with a malicious glint in his chocolate-colored eyes. "Now, go get your things and get out of my life, Jasmine."

Sputtering in rage, but unable to manufacture a coherent sentence, Jasmine stomped up the stairs to get her suitcase and anything else she owned.

A couple of minutes later, she came stomping back down the stairs and started for the front door. Damian stopped her however.

"I want your keys."

"What?"

"You heard me. I want your keys to my house, my gym, my cars, my storage unit and I want the remote control garage door opener. Now. Hand them over, or I'll get them myself."

Growling in fury, Jasmine dug into her purse and grabbed her key ring. She fumbled around and handed Damian each of the keys he demanded, and the garage door opener.

"There," she snarled, her eyes flashing fire. "You're going to be sorry, Luis Martinez," she said using his–rarely used in her case–real name. Very sorry."

"Nope. I've already been sorry where you are concerned. I think now, I'll be happy."

Mumbling something about hating him, Jasmine spun around, and stalked out of the house, calling a taxi on her cell phone.

Damian puffed out a sigh of relief, as he watched her brunette head grow smaller and smaller.

He then went upstairs to do something he had not done in months.

He took a nap.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

A group of kindergartners listened intently as Sharlotte read the story of Hansel and Gretel to them in the children's corner.

"'We will bake first,' said the old woman, 'I have already heated the oven, and kneaded the dough,'" She read out loud. "She pushed poor Gretel out to the oven, from which flames of fire were already darting. 'Creep in,' said the witch, 'and see if it is properly heated, so that we can put the bread in.' And once Gretel was inside, she intended to shut the oven and let her bake in it, and then she would eat her, too.'

Sharlotte was near the end of the story when she felt her cell phone buzz in her pocket, signifying a text message. She ignored it for the moment and concentrated on the story. She loved the looks on the children's faces as she read the exciting parts. They were enthralled. And that was a big part of what she loved about her job. Teaching people to appreciate books and stories. There wasn't anything more satisfying than sharing her love of books.

Except for when I was able to skate, she thought. Then skating was what I loved to share with the world.

Turning to the last page of the book, she finished the ending to the story.

When she was done, the children clapped and cheered.

"Did everyone enjoy the story," Sharlotte asked, smiling.

"Yeah," the children cried.

"Wonderful! Maybe your teachers can bring you back sometime, and I can read you another!"

"Yay!"

Sharlotte laughed and stood to her feet, "You all have a great rest of the day, and be sure to come back and visit here. We have so many stories and books to choose from." She watched as the teachers directed their students into single file lines and led them from the library. Several of the children waved to Sharlotte and she waved back, happy with how the reading hour had gone.

She felt her cell phone vibrate again and pulled it from her pocket. Glancing at the screen, she found both messages were from Leena.

Leave it to Leena to think since it's her day off, I'm automatically available, she thought chuckling. She tapped the screen a couple times and read the newest message first.

"HEY! Ya there?"

The first one read:

"Guess who's single now?"

Shaking her head, she texted Leena back.

"You have my attention. But I'm at work, lol. Can this wait till I'm off?"

She headed back toward the circulation desk, and had just entered her office when her phone buzzed again.

"Leena, what am I going to do with you?"

Sighing, she looked at her most recent text message.

"No need to reply back till you're off, but thought you'd like to know. One word: Damian."

She gasped, but wasn't completely shocked. So many bad rumors could be found online about Jasmine Greenberg, that Sharlotte often wondered why John stayed with her for so long.

"Poor guy," she thought out loud. "I can only imagine the crap that's being said to him on his Twitter."

She shook her head, baffled by the immaturity and hatefulness of so many people. She went to the circulation desk when she heard a customer approach, intent on reading up on the situation the next time she had the chance.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

" @archerofinfamy Dude, breakups are what happens when you're not at home enough to take care of your woman's needs, LOL!"

"@archerofinfamy was too busy fooling around with other Divas and Ring Rats to realize his relationship was failing! Haha!"

"@archerofinfamy's girlfriend is at home messing around behind his back. And he's too stupid to realize it! #Loser"

Sharlotte sat on the sofa, staring at her laptop's screen in awe of the stupidity and meanness she'd just read on Twitter.

"Unbelievable," she uttered.

Between the dirt sheets and Twitter, Damian Priest's name was being run through the mud. And she felt sure that Jasmine Greenberg would do her own share of mud-flinging in the next couple days.

His anti-fans neglect to realize he broke up with her. Men who cheat on their girlfriends or spouses rarely are the ones who initiate the breakup, she thought. She rolled her eyes and glanced up at the television to watch a few seconds of an AEW match between Jon Moxley and Hook. Her gaze shifted to Noah who sat on the other end of the sofa. So far he'd not mentioned Damian's breakup with Jasmine Greenberg, and she planned to keep it quiet. She didn't want to do anything that might mar Damian's reputation in the boy's eyes.

Sighing, she turned her attention back to the computer and read a few more horrid tweets. She really did feel badly for Damian. He was going through enough as it was. An idea struck her then, and she got up and headed upstairs to her bedroom. She walked to the large bookshelf and grabbed her book of inspirational quotes and looked up the heartbreak section. Walking back to the desk she flipped through the book till she found the quote she was looking for. She smiled, setting the book in front of her. Within a few seconds, she had the quote typed out, and tagged Damian in it.

"@archerofinfamy 'Your value doesn't decrease based on someone's inability to see your worth.'"

Clicking the "Tweet" button, she turned away from the laptop, then stood and flopped across her bed to watch the remainder of AEW.

It wasn't long till her eyes grew heavy, and she fell fast asleep.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Damian stepped out of the shower in the men's locker room and dried off quickly, eager to dress and get to his hotel. All he wanted was a good night's sleep. He'd been used to getting proper sleep while he was suspended, and then he got back into the grind of work. He was staying pretty tired as of late. He figured it was due in part to the stress of the media dragging him through the mud. Not to mention, the stress Jasmine was putting on him with her numerous calls, and texts.

After pulling on his jeans and t-shirt he grabbed his phone to put in his pocket, but stopped to glance at his twitter interactions before heading out.

He scrolled through the many hate messages he'd been expecting, and the psycho obsessive fans' "I love you" and "Marry me" messages. He finally came to a few sane ones wishing him well through his ordeal, and quickly liked their tweets. He finally came to one that stood out from the rest.

Drastically.

But in a good way.

"@archerofinfamy 'Your value doesn't decrease based on someone's inability to see your worth.'"

Damian wasn't one to read inspirational quotes, let alone use them, but he got the message loud and clear, however. The woman who tweeted the quote to him was letting him know to not worry about what Jasmine or the media said, his true colors would shine through. And as long as he did that, everything would be fine.

Knowing he needed to hurry and get to the hotel, he wanted to thank the girl nonetheless. Her thoughtful gesture really did help him feel better about the situation.

"And it's nice to not have a woman saying only what she thinks I want to hear," he thought out loud. He clicked on her profile and didn't hesitate to click the Follow button. Then he took note of her real name, and typed out a message to her directly.

"@IceLover1981 Thank you so much for the kind words and gesture, Sharlotte. Can't tell you how much better it made me feel."

He clicked the "Tweet" button, then took one last look at her profile. "Pretty," he said, observing her profile picture. He saw a young woman with gray eyes, long golden hair, and an almost haunted smile. She looked quite angelic, and made Jasmine pale in comparison. But when John realized he had spent a long moment just staring at her face, he closed out of his Twitter app, and went on his way, frustrated that he was already thinking of other women.

}i{}i{}i{}i{

Rise For the Night began playing on Sharlotte's phone.

She smiled and giggled in her sleep as her cellphone rang, the sound of Damian's voice entering her dreams. However, when the beat of his theme song kept thumping near her ear, she finally came awake, and realized her phone was ringing.

"Oh!"

She sat straight up in bed and grabbed the phone, looking at the screen. Groaning, she tapped the "Talk" icon to answer the call.

"Leena, what in the world are you doing calling me at three in the morning?"

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it! Sharlotte...I couldn't sleep. I got online...checking Twitter, and...You're not going to believe this!"

"What, Leena? Tell me, or I swear I'm going to hang up and go back to sleep," Sharlotte threatened, brushing her long braid over her shoulder.

"Damian Priest tweeted you! He thanked you for some quote you tweeted to him earlier tonight. And I just looked at your "Followers" list, and he even followed you!"

"No," Sharlotte gasped. "For real?!"

"And he didn't just call you by your twitter ID, he called you by name!"

"Okay, Leena...I'm having information overload. Calm down, or you are going to be the cause of me losing it, and acting like a pathetic fan girl."

"I'm so excited for you," Leena went on. "He called you 'Sharlotte'!"

"Oh, my God," Sharlotte fought off a giddy scream. The last thing she needed was to wake up Noah and have to tell him that their favorite wrestler was following her on Twitter. It might make him feel disappointed that he didn't get followed too.

"I know, right?"

Sharlotte headed over to her laptop which was still running on her desk. "Are you sure," she asked her friend. "I mean...you aren't just seeing things?"

"Nope!"

She sat down and went to her Twitter interactions. Sure enough she saw where THE

Damian Priest was following her, and saw his reply as well.

"@IceLover1981 Thank you so much for the kind words and gesture, Sharlotte. Can't tell you how much better it made me feel."

"Oh, my God," she cried again. She could actually feel goose bumps and tears burning her eyes. "Leena, he said I helped him feel better! I helped him feel better!" She giggled then. "I'm so happy!"

"So am I," Leena giggled back. "That's so freaking awesome!"

"Has definitely made my night! Wait...no...it's made my...decade!"

"I bet! Well, I think my adrenaline rush is leaving, so I'm gonna let ya go now. I may actually get some sleep now."

Sharlotte heard her yawn then, "Okay, well I 'll talk to you soon. Thanks for calling me!"

"You bet! Later!"

The two disconnected the call, and Sharlotte quickly typed another tweet to Damian Priest.

"@archerofinfamy My friend just woke me up at 3 A.M. to tell me you followed me & tweeted me, LOL! Wow...thank you SO much! Wasn't expecting that at all! And I'm really glad the quote helped you to feel better. :-) Take care & keep your chin up."

Then she shut her laptop down, and went back to bed, smiling happily in her sleep.

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