#she's through with younger men...
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okay but like why was he slaying so fucking hard in this outfit
also this reminds me of the probably accidental casual transgender moose pin-up calender lady
#camp lazlo#screenshots#scoutmaster lumpus#like...??? not only is he ROCKING it but this design is general is FANTASTIC#''check out THAT fine thang'' - samson on the topic of 'spitting facts'#she's through with younger men...#also i only processed the calendar lady's name the other day#miss va-va-vamoose#he literally gets hit on every time he dresses up though
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This line is one of my Absolute Favorites from this show, because it really digs right into the new world that the kids are in:
They're not kids anymore.
There's a furious man threatening harm to Bumpy and her friends, and Sammy puts herself square in the middle of the argument, turns on the charm and promises that she'll make it up to him...and when he doesn't acquiesce, she immediately turns Stern. She bluntly tells him to go home. As an adult talking to another adult.
She has her own property. Her own life. Her own world. She has authority now. The days where they're kids hiding from robots or businessmen or sneaking away from big game hunters and mercenaries are over. Sammy has land, she has responsibilities, and she's not backing down from them. Sammy Gutierrez is an adult woman, and she's going to act like one.
#she is twenty-one years old#not super-old or experienced but also she watched like five men die when she was fourteen and fifteen#pretty much killed one of them herself#she's had guns pointed at her#and had her liver mellted#sammy gutierrez#she's been blackmailed and threatened and hunted and captured#she was in a helicopter crash#and a car crash#two car crashes actually#hasn't had her third yet as far as I know#could be her fourth or fifth#she's at least a decade younger than carl but she's seen more than him#and she's ready for this#and I love it when heroes who go through too much get to flex on those who haven't#jurassic world: chaos theory#chaos theory#jwct
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Hermione As Teacher And Connections To Lily
An interesting narrative thread is how often Hermione's magic and teaching influences other characters' and how often it goes unrecognized, and particularly how it parallels a lot of Lily's own magic saving Harry from Voldemort. (Read on Ao3)
1. Triwizard Tournament
Summoning Charm
he did so badly at Summoning Charms in Professor Flitwick’s class that he was given extra homework — the only person to get any, apart from Neville. “It’s really not that difficult, Harry,” Hermione tried to reassure him [...] — she had been making objects zoom across the room to her all lesson, as though she were some sort of weird magnet [...] “You just weren’t concentrating properly —” (Ch 18, GoF)
Harry still hadn’t mastered Summoning Charms, he seemed to have developed something of a block about them, and Hermione insisted that learning the theory would help. They consequently spent a lot of time poring over books during their lunchtimes (Ch 19, GoF)
“Hermione, I need to learn how to do a Summoning Charm properly by tomorrow afternoon.” And so they practiced. They didn’t have lunch, but headed for a free classroom [...] At two o’clock in the morning, Harry stood near the fireplace, surrounded by heaps of objects [...] Only in the last hour had Harry really got the hang of the Summoning Charm. “That’s better, Harry, that’s loads better,” Hermione said, looking exhausted but very pleased. (Ch 20, GoF)
Flitwick then spends most of a lesson "talking to Harry about the perfect Summoning Charm Harry had used during the First Task".
1.2 Shield Charm
(Full analysis of the Shield Charm and how it's textually linked to Lily is in my meta When Lily Cast Her Life As A Shield)
He was still having trouble with the Shield Charm, though. This was supposed to cast a temporary, invisible wall around himself that deflected minor curses [...] “You’re still doing really well, though,” Hermione said encouragingly, looking down her list and crossing off those spells they had already learned. “Some of these are bound to come in handy.” [...] Come on, Harry,” she added briskly [...] “let’s try that Shield Charm again.” (Ch 31, GoF)
Which Harry then teaches the DA:
He was improving so fast it was quite unnerving and when Harry taught them the Shield Charm, [...] only Hermione mastered the charm faster than Neville. (Ch 25, OoTP)
Then, what Fred and George say makes the real money in the joke shop:
“We’ve just developed this more serious line,” said Fred. “Funny how it happened...” “You wouldn’t believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can’t do a decent Shield Charm,” said George. “’Course, they didn’t have you teaching them, Harry.” “That’s right... Well, we thought Shield Hats were a bit of a laugh, you know, challenge your mate to jinx you while wearing it and watch his face when the jinx just bounces off. But the Ministry bought five hundred for all its support staff! And we’re still getting massive orders!” “So we’ve expanded into a range of Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves...” “...I mean, they wouldn’t help much against the Unforgivable Curses, but for minor to moderate hexes or jinxes...” (Ch 6, HBP) Although Snape did not know it, Harry had taught at least half the class (everyone who had been a member of the D.A.) how to perform a Shield Charm the previous year. None of them had ever cast the charm without speaking, however. A reasonable amount of cheating ensued [...] Typically, ten minutes into the lesson Hermione managed to repel Neville’s muttered Jelly-Legs Jinx without uttering a single word (Ch 9, HBP)
I love that Harry is then the one to teach Hermione the Patronus Charm - which Remus tells Harry is "a kind of anti-dementor - a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the dementor".
1.3 Four-Point Spell
and the Four-Point Spell, a useful discovery of Hermione’s that would make his wand point due north, therefore enabling him to check whether he was going in the right direction within the maze. (Ch 31, GoF)
“Point Me,” he whispered to his wand, holding it flat in his palm. The wand spun around once and pointed toward his right, into solid hedge. (Ch 31, GoF)
It's reasonable to extrapolate that the spell is Hermione's invention, given that it's the only spell with an English incantation, and inventions are referred to as "discoveries" several times - Remus wrt the Wolfsbane Potion in PoA, Dumbledore's work ("the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood", "does Skeeter deny the brilliance that led to Dumbledore’s many magical discoveries?"), Harry has to "memorize the dates of magical discoveries and goblin rebellions" and mentions books titled "Important Modern Magical Discoveries and A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry", Fred says they "spent six months developing" the Ton-Tongue Toffees, etc.
Hermione inventing this is particularly compelling given that it's similar to what Harry's wand does in DH (related to Lily's spellwork deflecting the Killing Curse), and Harry's conflict with her after she breaks his wand.
[...] his wand acted of its own accord. He felt it drag his hand around like some great magnet, saw a spurt of golden fire through his half-closed eyelids, heard a crack and a scream of fury. (Ch 4, DH) He knew exactly what Hermione would say if he expressed any of this: The wand is only as good as the wizard. But she was wrong, his case was different. She had not felt the wand spin like the needle of a compass and shoot golden flames at his enemy. (Ch 18, DH)
Also notable is Hermione solving Snape's Potions riddle, and Harry echoing this with solving the Sphinx riddle during the Third Task (Harry thinking “it was Hermione who was good at this sort of thing, not him” and then “amazed at his own brilliance” when he solves it).
2. Other examples
2.1 Impervius Charm
“I’ve got no chance with these on,” Harry said exasperatedly, waving his glasses. At that very moment, Hermione appeared at his shoulder; she was holding her cloak over her head and was, inexplicably, beaming. “I’ve had an idea, Harry! Give me your glasses, quick!” He handed them to her, and as the team watched in amazement, Hermione tapped them with her wand and said, “Impervius!” “There!” she said [...] “They’ll repel water!” Wood looked as though he could have kissed her. “Brilliant!” he called hoarsely after her [...] Hermione’s spell had done the trick. (Ch 9, PoA) "Harry, didn’t you do something to your glasses to stop the rain fogging them up when we played Hufflepuff in that storm?” “Hermione did it,” said Harry. He pulled out his wand, tapped his glasses and said, “Impervius!” “I think we all ought to try that,” said Angelina. “[...] all together, come on — Impervius!" (Ch 18, OoTP)
Additionally, when Padfoot comes to watch during that PoA match and dementors swarm the field, making Harry hear Lily's murder for the first time, Harry falls from his broom, his Nimbus crashes into the Whomping Willow, others say they thought he was dead and "Lucky the ground was so soft" - of course, it wasn't luck, it was Dumbledore; Hermione then repeats these actions in DH - during the waterfall in the Thief's Downfall (evokes the drowning feeling from dementors; and Hermione additionally uses the Shield Charm there) and immediately after they escape LV in Godric’s Hollow and Harry finally gets the full memory of Lily's death (Hermione’s eyes being emphasized):
“Dumbledore was really angry,” Hermione said in a quaking voice. “I’ve never seen him like that before. He ran onto the field as you fell, waved his wand, and you sort of slowed down before you hit the ground. Then he whirled his wand at the dementors. Shot silver stuff at them. They left the stadium right away [...]" “Then he magicked you onto a stretcher,” said Ron. “And walked up to school with you floating on it. Everyone thought you were...” (Ch 9, PoA) “Yes,” said Hermione. “I had to use a Hover Charm to get you into your bunk, I couldn't lift you [...]" There were purple shadows under her brown eyes and he noticed a small sponge in her hand: She had been wiping his face. (Ch 17, DH) Water filled Harry’s eyes and mouth: He could not see or breathe: [...] Harry heard the cart smash into pieces against the passage wall, heard Hermione shriek something, and felt himself glide back toward the ground as though weightless, landing painlessly on the rocky passage floor. “C-Cushioning Charm,” Hermione spluttered (Ch 26, DH)
2.2 Murtlap Essence
During that PoA practice, Fred and George were debating using Fever Fudge to get out of flying:
“— but you get these massive pus-filled boils too,” said George, “and we haven’t worked out how to get rid of them yet.” “I can’t see any boils,” said Ron, staring at the twins. “No, well, you wouldn’t,” said Fred darkly, “they’re not in a place we generally display to the public —” “— but they make sitting on a broom a right pain in the —” (Ch 18, OoTP)
The knowledge Hermione uses to heal the I must not tell lies scar on Harry's hand helps the twins finish the Snackboxes:
“Here,” she said anxiously, pushing a small bowl of yellow liquid toward him, “soak your hand in that, it’s a solution of strained and pickled murtlap tentacles, it should help.” Harry placed his bleeding, aching hand into the bowl and experienced a wonderful feeling of relief. (Ch 15, OoTP) When Harry next saw Lee, the back of his hand was bleeding rather badly. Harry recommended essence of murtlap. (Ch 25, OoTP) Hermione cast him a stern look. “You’ve got exams coming!” “Told you already, we’re not fussed about N.E.W.T.s,” said Fred. “The Snackboxes are ready to roll, we found out how to get rid of those boils, just a couple of drops of murtlap essence sorts them, Lee put us onto it...” (Ch 26, OoTP)
2.3 Magical Eavesdropping Methods
Harry frankly marveled at the fact that Hermione could research magical methods of eavesdropping as well as everything else they had to do. (Ch 28, GoF)
People have theorized that Hermione’s research while she was taking revenge against Rita Skeeter may have aided Fred and George develop the Extendable Ears, esp. since she was staying at 12GP that summer.
2.4 DA Galleons
Hermione's inspired by Voldemort's magic to invent the DA's communication method; Draco then gets the idea from that to carry out his Death Eater mission, enchanting his own coins to secretly communicate with Rosmerta, and also gets the idea to poison the mead from Hermione, having "heard her talking in the library about Filch not recognizing potions".
“You know what these remind me of?” “No, what’s that?” “The Death Eaters’ scars. Voldemort touches one of them, and all their scars burn, and they know they’ve got to join him.” “Well... yes,” said Hermione quietly. “That is where I got the idea... but you’ll notice I decided to engrave the date on bits of metal rather than on our members’ skin...” “Yeah... I prefer your way,” said Harry, grinning, as he slipped his Galleon into his pocket. (Ch 19, OoTP)
Notably, Lily's blood magic - unlike Hermione's and very like Voldemort's - does burn Voldemort's skin.
Similarly significant is Hermione's invention of the SNEAK curse - where the DA members all sign the binding contract in the Hog's Head, the same establishment where Trelawney gave the prophecy, and the binding contract incorporated in Lily's magic. Hermione enchants ~28 coins for the whole DA and creates the curse within the span of ~a month.
2.5 O.W.L. exam
Three rows to his right and four seats ahead, Hermione was already scribbling… He lowered his eyes to the first question: a) Give the incantation, and b) describe the wand movement required to make objects fly... Harry had a fleeting memory of a club soaring high into the air and landing loudly on the thick skull of a troll... Smiling slightly, he bent over the paper and began to write
On the whole Harry thought it went rather well; his Levitation Charm was certainly much better than Malfoy’s had been, though he wished he had not mixed up the incantations for Color-Change and Growth Charms (Ch 31, OoTP) the exam to which Harry was looking forward least and which he was sure would be the one that would be the downfall of his ambitions to become an Auror. Sure enough, he found the written exam difficult, though he thought he might have got full marks on the question about Polyjuice Potion: He could describe its effects extremely accurately, having taken it illegally in his second year. (Ch 31, OoTP)
Hermione is linked to Harry's Charms and Potions exams, the subjects most directly tied to Lily. Important to note that Professor Marchbanks praises Dumbledore for having “done things with a wand I’d never seen before” during his Charms and Transfiguration N.E.W.T.s - which Hermione didn't get to take 'cause of the war; and Harry and Neville are acknowledged as doing better in Potions without Snape's presence - clearly true of Hermione's potential too as her best accomplishment was brewing a N.E.W.T. level potion second year, outside Snape's supervision (which took a month, and then she spent 2 months in the hospital due to petrification/Polyjuice turning her into a cat).
2.6 Body Bind Curse
Harry turned to Hermione. “Do something,” he said desperately. [...] “Neville,” she said, “I’m really, really sorry about this.” “Petrificus Totalus!” she cried [...] Neville’s arms snapped to his sides. His legs sprang together. His whole body rigid, he swayed where he stood and then fell flat on his face, stiff as a board. [...] “What’ve you done to him?” Harry whispered. “It’s the full Body-Bind,” said Hermione miserably. (PS)
Interestingly, Harry instinctively copies what he saw of Sirius in SWM during the DoM sequence, using the full Body Bind for the first time (at least, that we see on screen). Hermione compliments Harry on it, calling back to her being the first one to show him first year - and her being cursed right after echoes the description of Sirius falling through the veil: "the second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest", his eyes widening in shock and the "look of mingled fear and surprise".
Sirius said, “Petrificus Totalus!” and Snape keeled over again at once, rigid as a board. “LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. James and Sirius eyed it warily. (Ch 28, OoTP) “Petrificus Totalus!” shouted Harry, as the second Death Eater raised his wand [...] “Well done, Ha —” But the Death Eater Hermione had just struck dumb made a sudden slashing movement with his wand from which flew a streak of what looked like purple flame. It passed right across Hermione’s chest; she gave a tiny “oh!” as though of surprise and then crumpled onto the floor (Ch 35, OoTP) Harry seized his chance: “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!” The spell hit Dolohov before he could block it, and he toppled forward across his comrade, both of them rigid as boards and unable to move an inch. (Ch 35, OoTP) Springing up, Harry yelled, “Petrificus Totalus!” Once again, Dolohov’s arms and legs snapped together and he keeled over backward, landing with a crash on his back. “Nice one!” shouted Sirius, forcing Harry’s head down [...] (Ch 35, OoTP)
2.7 Unbreakable Charm
Not something Hermione specifically taught, but also interesting is Hermione mirroring Barty Crouch Jr. during his Unforgivables lesson (and saying Harry gave her the idea when he mentioned "bugging").
Moody got heavily to his mismatched feet, opened his desk drawer, and took out a glass jar. Three large black spiders were scuttling around inside it. (Ch 14, GoF)
“Oh not electronic bugs [...] Rita Skeeter [...] is an unregistered Animagus. She can turn —” Hermione pulled a small sealed glass jar out of her bag. “— into a beetle.” [...] Inside were a few twigs and leaves and one large, fat beetle [...] Hermione took the glass jar back from Ron and smiled at the beetle, which buzzed angrily against the glass. [...] “I’ve put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can’t transform. And I’ve told her she’s to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can’t break the habit of writing horrible lies about people.” (Ch 37, GoF)
Hermione imprisoning Rita Skeeter in a jar vaguely references Lily and Harry's actions in 1981 leading to an "imprisoned" LV in Albania; this also happens a few chapters after Priori Incantatem, and Harry and LV under the web of light evokes insects trapped underneath glass:
The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort splintered; though the wands remained connected, a thousand more beams arced high over Harry and Voldemort, crisscrossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web, a cage of light, beyond which the Death Eaters circled like jackals, their cries strangely muffled now... “Do nothing!” Voldemort shrieked to the Death Eaters, and Harry saw his red eyes wide with astonishment at what was happening, saw him fighting to break the thread of light [...] and the golden thread remained unbroken. “Do nothing unless I command you!” (Ch 34, GoF)
Then the phoenix song comes from "every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Harry and Voldemort", and a voice saying Don't break the connection (elaborated here).
3.0 Blasting Curse
All this comes full circle in the Godric's Hollow graveyard in DH (a deeper analysis also for another post), where Hermione mirrors what Harry did because of Lily as a baby (and also Harry's actions at the start of DH while flying during the Battle of the Seven Potters): blows up the house (“Confringo") and enrages Voldemort as she and Harry fly out the window - fly from death - together.
#reposting this now that my posts are showing up in tags#hermione granger#hermione jean granger#lily evans#lily evans potter#harry james potter#tom riddle#tom marvolo riddle#lord voldemort#voldemort#harry potter meta#hp meta#i don't like everything the narrative does in this area as a lot of it definitely also shows jkr's gender essentialism and misogyny#that combined with jkr weaving this in so subtly most people don't notice#makes it... certainly not the feminist flex she thought it was lol. and well. despite this post i'm not actually a hermione girl lmao#i'm frankly not a ron girl either i only care about harry. but i dislike the way it does ron dirty#RON was given a willow wand in poa and shields harry with his body. where's my follow through on that!!!#lol @ harry being like 'but did he want to be like his father anymore?'#and yet instinctively using the spell his godfather used on snape thrice. all in the beyond the veil chapter too ;_;#anyways. so many criticisms on fanon hermione and fans ~writing movie super genius hermione~#are ‘she’s being written as brilliant/powerful as dumbledore/LV/etc.’#hermione IS a young dumbledore. she was doing what dumbledore was doing much younger than him and while it was her humanity under attack#and the majority of her hogwarts years were taken up directly dealing with/undoing tom riddle's bullshit. no offense to tom and all.#she even clearly gets god figure status like lily and All Those Men (hermione's 'fiery crosses' in the DoM sequence)#which would be fine but well. jkr Didn't Have To Do That To Ron#also. i kept thinking how strange it was that people kept saying harry's the only person ever/first person#to survive the killing curse. i was like - but horcruxes? voldemort's done it too??? what????#now i realize it's intentional that harry takes the credit for it while LV gets no credit LOL
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The Winchester brothers? Oh I think you mean Sam Leahy and Dean Singer <3 I think their mom is Mary Campbell-Winchester so maybe that's where you got confused <3
#listen I just think symbolically rejecting the family legacy on the family legacy show where the legacy is perpetuating pain and horror#is interesting#I'm just musing. i think sam would actually do leahy-winchester or winchester-leahy#mr dad did the best he could. he reconciles to him and he's proud of the men of letters thing#dean i think. clean break.#when cas says maybe i should get a surname and dean immediately suggests singer and confesses sometimes he pretended his name was singer#as a kid. just to himself.#and sam pops up and is like. it could be. if you wanted. just saying. i think it'd mean a lot to the old man.#and dean dismisses it but sam catches him writing in his journal:#mr and mr dean singer. mr and mr cas singer. mr dean (cas) singer.#dean mary singer#mrs dean singer ? (that one's crossed out Dean's not ready to crack yet)#and dean never makes an announcement or anything he just starts introducing himself as dean singer and cas as castiel singer#mary i think it's important to her to keep Winchester bc for her Winchester was an escape from HER family legacy of pain and suffering#I think for a while after resurrection she tried saying to other hunters that she's mary Campbell to cash in on the family name#because whenever she said Winchester she was met with suspicion from John alienating himself lmao#or people commenting positively on sam and dean and she was trying to avoid being reminded of and associated with them#but that felt like a betrayal of what her younger self had decided AND a betrayal of John. whom she loved.#even if she finds out that love was engineered and manufactured. it's still something she felt. it's still something#she poured so much of her young life into#and it represents the hope that her sam and dean might be able to work through things#so eventually she says with defiant pride I am Mary Campbell-Winchester. no matter what reaction she might get from other people.
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Not my cat flirting with every pet sitters I get him during my vacations lmao
#misc#this year it's a man#i was lowkey worried cause my cat don't know many men#(idk if they even can tell the difference tbh lmfao)#but this hoe of a cat smelled him and immediately targeted his legs#sometimes i wonder if he wouldn't cheat on me with another human if he had a chance dusjsjjejz#anyway the guy is a young man and as someone who struggled when i was younger#i feel like doing a good action paying someone to do a cool job#(i mean cleaning the litter is not exactly a fun job but getting paid to pet a cat is)#also i met him through my physio who knows everyone#because last year i chose a pet sitter through a pet sitting website#but it was hella expensive#and it's basically a scam cause i paid something like 150€ but only 50€ was for the pet sitter the other was for that shit website#fuck start-ups#anyway i decided to do it the old fashioned way#through social relationships#but i struggled cause i have not social relationships???#except for coworkers#but I don't want coworkers to go to my home#that's an absolute no#it'd be a violation plus i am ashamed of my home and shit#so i prefer someone I don't know at all#so if i get judged it has no consequences#(yes i have trust issues)#so i had to actually gather my courage and ask my physio if she knew someone because she works with lot of young adults and teens#and turns out the mom of the man was here and she said she'll ask him#can't go wrong with someone vetted by hus own mother lol#anyway he said cats are his favourite pets so we're good#Loki definitely sensed that he can plays him like fiddle
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my boyfriend’s mom will be out all night on a date so i get to play housewife tonight n make the boys dinner :)
#‘the boys’ being my boyfriend and his brothers (all adults)#ah yes#the joys of being an italian wife-mother#makes me think of arackniss SOOOOO MUCH LMAO#because he rly does strike me as the traditional italian type#who would want his wife at home tending to the house and the kids and making sure he has a full meal on the table the moment he walks#through the door <333#this is what i was saying the other day tho when i was talking about italian mothers and their love for their sons#even within my own family i saw this so so so much#fuck my mom still does it#this isn’t a criticism btw!!! just a lil fact that the majority of traditional italian moms rly favour their sons esp the younger ones#but also it’s like soooo many men who grow up in this type of household environment expect their wives to also be their mothers when they#move out#and i’ve seen that with multiple men around me in our community#as well as with THEIR mothers#like ‘oh she better take care of my boy’ etc#i don’t think that’s something necessarily unique to italians it’s just the only culture i can speak on since i am italian#anyway i enjoy cooking for family so!!! :) i am excited c:#if it were feasible to be a housewife in today’s society i would absolutely choose to do it but alas#who the fuck can survive like that anymore LMAO#clari chatters#clari chapters
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There's like a gender diversity and inclusivity feel when you're nonbinary at work cause my new co-worker is also nonbinary and filling out the application like:
Ok you only get to pick one: the pronouns you use or not your dead name
#look i know I've gotten used to dressing how i want#anyway i ended up with name over pronouns#so i deal with being Miss Jun and she pronouns#and well if you dont hate your name and you get the pronouns i guess you won the lottery#if i was younger I'd be way more upset about it but i don't have the energy at work to enforce my pronouns-#when i look and dress cute with long hair and a soft voice#it took me through most of highschool & first few years of college to realize maintain someone else's idea of androgynous is a fool's task#jun talks#i think the way i talk or present myself in relations has that grey zone shine through#but i keep my hair long since i went to the rez and realized it's important part of my culture#seeing native men at walmart with long hair casually was a godsend
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!!!!
“If a society puts half its children into short skirts and warns them not to move in ways that reveal their panties, while putting the other half into jeans and overalls and encouraging them to climb trees, play ball, and participate in other vigorous outdoor games; if later, during adolescence, the children who have been wearing trousers are urged to “eat like growing boys,” while the children in skirts are warned to watch their weight and not get fat; if the half in jeans runs around in sneakers or boots, while the half in skirts totters about on spike heels, then these two groups of people will be biologically as well as socially different. Their muscles will be different, as will their reflexes, posture, arms, legs and feet, hand-eye coordination, and so on. Similarly, people who spend eight hours a day in an office working at a typewriter or a visual display terminal will be biologically different from those who work on construction jobs. There is no way to sort the biological and social components that produce these differences. We cannot sort nature from nurture when we confront group differences in societies in which people from different races, classes, and sexes do not have equal access to resources and power, and therefore live in different environments. Sex-typed generalizations, such as that men are heavier, taller, or stronger than women, obscure the diversity among women and among men and the extensive overlaps between them… Most women and men fall within the same range of heights, weights, and strengths, three variables that depend a great deal on how we have grown up and live. We all know that first-generation Americans, on average, are taller than their immigrant parents and that men who do physical labor, on average, are stronger than male college professors. But we forget to look for the obvious reasons for differences when confronted with assertions like ‘Men are stronger than women.’ We should be asking: ‘Which men?’ and ‘What do they do?’ There may be biologically based average differences between women and men, but these are interwoven with a host of social differences from which we cannot disentangle them.”
— Ruth Hubbard, “The Political Nature of ‘Human Nature’“ (via gothhabiba)
Yes.
#I'm stronger and generally larger than a lot of cis guys I know even tho I'm afab#and even so people at work are always like “oh do you need me to carry that for you?” “is that too heavy for you?”#“this is really hard work for a GIRL let me know if you need any help”#when I'm outperforming the cis men asking me these things regularly#like I appreciate that they're trying to be considerate but after a certain point it feels a bit demeaning#to be expected to be weaker and less productive and effective at my work than everyone else in my department#my mom used to tell me not to lift anything heavy too and to “just let the guys (my brothers and dad) do it”#and she put them through all these different programs where they made friends and did a ton of physical activities#while me and my sister were just left alone at home to like. idk draw or play with dolls or whatever#I was a BALL OF ENERGY as a kid too. I WANTED to run and learn sports and do the same things my brothers were doing#but I got shamed out of those things for my sex and my weight#I'm reconnecting with a lot of the things I liked when I was younger as an adult but that shame is hard to undo for a lot of ppl
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I love how men immediately go to insults when you turn them down. All I said was that I wasn't into younger men. Especially not the ones my brother is friends with.
#i just said i don't date younger men#I've learned from DATING YOUNGER MEN#and he immediately went for the “is she fat?”/“i can hear the mayo running down her double chin”#the bastard actually said that to me#THROUGH A FUCKING PHONE#tw: vent#vent#rainy rambles#rainy's real life
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The best thing about no longer being insecure, vulnerable, a chronic people pleaser, with zero boundaries, but being confident, assertive, with strong boundaries and lot of self worth (besides how proud I am of myself) is that my ex would flinch if she saw me like this
#i just saw a recent picture of her and she looks exactly the same#i look much healthier less weak less vulnerable#I've grown strong and difficult to hurt while remaining soft and loving. I've really won.#my ex has been showing up in my head a lot lately#my new friend has some similar trauma to her so when she talks about her experience it reminds me of hearing my ex talk#I've also been thinking about an old friend lately#and I just remembered that...#my ex would get jealous about me spending time with other people#even tho she barely paid attention to me#and she was jealous of my old friend and would often ask me if i had feelings for him and that I'd be better off with him#and each time me and him would work together she'd make it weird#this was years ago when i had zero interest in men and be was just a friend#I've recently been missing our friendship so i googled him and he looks so good#and ive been thinking about him a lot and i was thinking about how ironic it would be if i started dating him#anyway lots of thoughts#crazy how crazy that relationship was... and how much it's impacted me#personal#i mourn for my younger self. i went through hell with my ex. i didnt deserve that#such a chaotic painful time#thankfully im no longer there and im so much stronger and happier now💖#but boy howdy am i a little traumatized#realize it every time some memory resurfaces#well.... what ya gonna do. night night! 🌜
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The Devil's Wheel
The Devil’s Wheel
“If you say yes,” said the Devil, “a single man, somewhere in the world, will be killed on the spot. But three million dollars is nothing to sneeze at, missus.”
“What’s the catch?” You squint at him suspiciously over the red-and-black striped carnival booth. You’re smarter than he thinks you are– a devil deal always has a catch, and you’re determined to catch him before he catches you.
“Well, the catch is that you’ll know you did it. And I’ll know, too. And the big man upstairs’ll know, I ‘spose. But what’s the chariot of salvation without a little sin to grease the wheels? You can repent from your mansion balcony, looking out at your waterfront views, sipping a bellini in your eighties. But hey, it’s up to you– take my deal or leave it.”
The Devil lights a cigar without a match, taking an inhale, and blowing out a cloud of deep, sweet-smelling tobacco laced faintly with something that reminds you of rotten eggs. If he does have horns, they’re hidden under his lemon yellow carnival barker hat. He wears a clean pinstripe suit and a red bowtie. No cloven hooves, no big pointy fork, but you know he’s the Devil without having to be told. Though he did introduce himself.
He’s been perfectly polite.
You know you need the money. He knows it too, or he wouldn’t have brought you here, to this strange dark room, whisking you away from your new house in the suburbs as fast as a wish. Now you’re in some sort of warehouse, where all the windows seem to be blacked out– or, maybe, they simply look out into pitch darkness, though it is the middle of the day. A single white spotlight shines down on the two of you.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” you say. “I bet the man is someone I know, right? My husband?”
“Could be,” the Devil says with a pointed grin. “That’s for the wheel to decide.”
He steps back and raises his black-gloved hand as the tarp flies off of the large veiled object behind him. The light of the carnival wheel nearly blinds you. Blinking lights line the sides. Jingling music blares over speakers you can’t see. The flickering sign above it reads:
THE DEVIL’S WHEEL
“Step right up and claim your fortune,” the Devil barks. “Spin the wheel and pay the price! Or leave now, and a man keeps his life.”
You examine the wheel.
The gambling addict
The doting boyfriend
The escaped convict
The dog dad
The secretive sadist
“These are all the possible men I can kill?” You ask, thumbing the side of the wheel. It rolls smoothly in your hand. Then you quickly stop, realizing that this might constitute a spin under the Devil’s rules. He flashes a smile at you, watching you halt its motion.
“Addicts, convicts, murderers– plenty of terrible options for you to land on, missus!”
“Serial wife murderer?”
“Now who would miss a fellow like that? I can guarantee that the whole world would be better off without him in it, and that’s a fact.”
The hard worker
The compulsive liar
The animal torturer
The widower
The desperate businessman
The failed musician
The beloved son
“My husband is on here too,” you say.
“Your husband Dave, yes. The wheel has to be fair, otherwise there’s simply no stakes.”
“I know what’s gonna happen,” you say, crossing your arms. “This wheel is rigged. I’m gonna spin it around, and it’ll go through all the killers and stuff, and then it’s gonna land on my husband no matter what.”
“Why, I would never disgrace the wheel that way,” the Devil says, wounded. “I swear on my own mother’s grave– may she never escape it. In fact, take one free spin, just to test it out! This one’s on me, no death, no dollars.”
You cautiously reach up to the top of the wheel and feel its heaviness in your hand. The weight of hundreds of lives. But also, millions of dollars. You pull the wheel down and let it go.
Clackity-clackity-clackity-clackity
Round and round it goes.
The college graduate
The hockey fan
The Eagle Scout
The cold older brother
The charming younger brother
The two-faced middle child
The perfectionist
The slob
Your husband Dave
Clackity-clackity-clackity.
Finally, the wheel lands on a name. A title, really.
The photographer
“Hmm, tough, missus, but that’s the way of the wheel. But hey, look! Your husband is allllll the way over here,” he points with his cane to the very bottom of the wheel, all the way on the other side from where the arrow landed. “As you can see, it’s not rigged. The wheel truly is random.”
“So… there really isn’t another catch?” You ask.
“Isn’t it enough for you to end a man’s life? You need a steeper price? If you’re really such a glutton for punishment, I’ll gladly re-negotiate the terms.”
“No, no… wait.” You examine the wheel, glancing between it and the Devil.
You really could use that three million dollars. Newly married, new house, you and your husband’s combined debt– those student loans really follow you around. He’s quite a bit older than you, and even he hasn’t paid them off yet, to the point where the whole time you were dating you watched him stress out about money. You had to have a small, budget wedding, and a small, budget honeymoon. Three million dollars could be big for the two of you. You could re-do your honeymoon and go somewhere nice, like Hawaii, instead of just taking two weeks in Atlantic City. You deserve it.
Even so, do you really want to kill an innocent photographer? Or an innocent seasonal allergy sufferer? Or an innocent blogger? Just because you don’t know or love these people doesn’t mean that someone doesn’t.
The cancer survivor
The bereaved
The applicant
Some of these were so vague. They could be anyone, honestly. Your neighbors, your father, your friends…
The newlywed
The ex-gifted kid
The uncle
The Badgers fan
“My husband is a Badgers fan,” you say.
“How lovely,” the Devil says.
Then it hits you.
Of course.
The weightlifter.
The careful driver.
The manager.
The claustrophobe.
Your husband Dave lifts weights at the gym twice a month. You wouldn’t call him a pro, but he does it. He also drives like he’s got a bowl of hot soup in his lap all the time, because he’s afraid of being pulled over. He just got promoted to management at his company, and he takes the stairs to his seventh-story office because he hates how small and cramped the elevator is.
“I get your game,” you announce. “You thought you could get me, but I figured you out, jackass!” “Oh really? What is my game, pray tell?” The Devil responds, leaning against his cane.
“All these different titles– they’re all just different ways to describe the same guy. My husband isn’t one notch on the wheel, he’s every notch. No matter what I land on, Dave dies. I’m wise to your tricks!”
The Devil cackles.
“You’re a clever one, that’s for sure. I thought you’d never figure it out.”
“Thanks but no thanks, man,” you say with a triumphant smirk. “I’m no rube. No deal. Take me back home.”
“As you wish, missus,” the Devil says. He snaps his fingers, and you’re gone, back to your brand-new house with your new husband. “Don’t say I never tried to help anyone.”
#Horror#short story#creative writing#devil#carnival horror#dark humor#humor#horror short story#storytelling#satan#creepypasta#spooky aesthetic#spooky vibes#demons#hell#deal with the devil#The Devil's Wheel#chilling fiction#writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr
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#while . i know thst i cant take everythin personally i am taking This personally#bc it does feel personal. i didnt do Anything to you. and you treated me like shit. all bc u were dealing with shit.#like i get it - breakups are fucking hard. but u dont have to push me and everyone else away.#like . the real kicker is that u prioritised idiotic men over me and called a stupid boy you knew for 12 months ur best friend.#sorry ??????? i thought i was ur best friend. and then rashly telling me u dont wanna hear from me again?#like i was already planning that but thank you for the confirmation !#im hurt over this and not entirely . helicoptering it but idc lol.#its not the 1st time she was a shitty friend to me . it wont be the last. esp since in the 4yrs ive known her#shes shown fuckall growth fr#like ur not getting ur money back either babes#im keeping it ! as a fuck you for the bullshit u put me through. that $100 is mine get fucked xoxo#grow the fuck up. ur 24. ur not a teenager. ur brain matures next year. how am i 2yrs younger but so much more mature than you#im so over this lmao. pisces season rlly abt endings hu
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I really need to unlearn the thinking that people who menstruate should push through the pain and keep working
#bridget.txt#t/e/r/f/s DNI#yes I said people who menstruate yes I meant to include trans men#the time I had debilitating pain and asked my French teacher if I could be excused to the bathroom#and she said I should just 'push through it' damaged me#I've always had horrible cramps and bloating and worked through them. I should be nicer to the younger generation
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bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]
synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing
word count: 8.6k
contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)
a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !
this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here
. . .
Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things.
From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket.
Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.
Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go.
She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.
Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week.
Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe.
One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.
She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people.
She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything.
Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’.
When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket.
She read his bio beneath.
‘Harry, 30
Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans
Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’
She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it.
As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words.
Harry: Hey, pretty dress
She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric.
Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :)
Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.
Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?
Harry: Something along those lines
Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours
Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials
She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.
Harry: I’m even more impressed
She smiled, watching him type a new message.
Harry: What brings you here?
She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it.
Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company
Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay?
Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay.
Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.
Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read
Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx
Harry: No problem, love x
Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end.
They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.
Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx
Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.
Y/N: omg really?
Harry: What? You don’t agree?
Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater
Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say
Y/N: You think so?
Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something.
Harry: Or the little deer from that movie
Harry: What was it?
Harry: Bambi!
Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi
Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !!
Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name
Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi
Y/N: Well what should I call you?
Harry: Anything you like, Bambi
. . .
Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering.
It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did.
And Bambi.
Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.
After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?
Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.
She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.
“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.
“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure.
Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.
She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.
He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips.
Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving.
He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”
“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.
Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.
Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”
He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.
Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.
Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.
“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.
He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.
Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.
Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.
They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.
In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.
“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”
His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”
“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.
Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”
Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”
Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”
Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?”
“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.”
She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.
“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.
Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.
“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.
“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.
She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”
“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.
. . .
“Mr. Styles?”
Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.
“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.
Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company.
Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people.
Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.
He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her.
It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.
When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.
But then he met his Bambi.
He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head.
Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.
For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office.
He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about.
Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows.
He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath.
“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.
He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office.
He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?”
Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?”
“Cancel them.” He shrugged.
His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card.
He glanced at his phone when a text came through.
Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx
His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.
Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x
He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds.
Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.
People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car.
He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring.
She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally.
Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.
“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.
“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”
Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.
Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?
From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.
Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.
“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.
“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.
“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”
The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”
Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”
Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.
“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.
She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.
Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.”
With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped.
Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.
“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”
His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.
She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel.
“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy.
“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.
Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.
“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”
She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”
He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did.
“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.
Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.
Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”
His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”
She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”
Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”
Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”
“Come work with me,” He offered.
There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.
“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”
“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”
He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.
Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.
A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words.
. . .
Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean.
A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.
She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.
She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.
And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went.
Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.
Harry: Just outside x
She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door.
The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.
“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”
Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?”
“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly.
“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.
Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.
“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.
Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.”
Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.
As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved.
Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.
“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.
Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.
Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”
Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”
Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto.
Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.
Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.
He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”
Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”
Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”
Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”
Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy.
As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?
The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers.
Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”
“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.
Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”
“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him.
She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past.
He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”
Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”
He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”
"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.
"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."
She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”
He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.
When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.
“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”
Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”
“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.
Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”
Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.
“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"
She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”
“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”
Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."
“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”
“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.
Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”
Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”
Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”
Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”
“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”
She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”
Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”
Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”
"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"
Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone. But still, she couldn’t resist.
“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”
. . .
Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.
The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.
He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary.
“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.
Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”
She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.
“S okay,” He smiled.
The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.
“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.
She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.
Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.
The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit.
When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.
Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.
“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."
She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”
In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.
Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.
"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”
Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.
As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb.
Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.
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Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.
Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.
---
Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--
Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and
and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.
Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.
Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.
“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”
---
She choose her own.
...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.
Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--
Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.
“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.
The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.
---
He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.
---
“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.
The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.
“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”
Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.
Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.
There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.
He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.
“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”
---
They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--
They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.
And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.
“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”
Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.
---
Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.
---
Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.
---
It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.
Oh. They were going hunting.
“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.
The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.
“I can hunt,” he scowled.
He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.
---
“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.
She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.
“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.
“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”
“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.
“Is it,” said Kanna.
---
Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).
Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.
“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.
“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”
---
Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.
---
Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.
The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.
“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.
“...No.”
“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”
She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.
---
Elsewhere, the war continued.
The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.
The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.
The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.
---
Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.
#Sokka: please stop calling my Gran-Gran by her first name. please.#Kanna: you’re right Sokka he can call me Gran-Gran#Sokka: THAT IS WORSE THAT IS SO MUCH WORSE#Meanwhile Hakoda: you adopted WHO#Kanna didn’t ADOPT anyone thank-you-much she was very practically holding that boy for the fleet to use for ransom#why Hakoda#what would you have done if you had a Fire Prince#avatar the last airbender#atla#Zuko#Kanna#ficlet#(infinite hot water lady is ABSOLUTELY Toklo’s aunt)#(he looks to the prince looks to her and spontaneously invents the High Five)
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Yandere Genshin Men With An Escaped Darling
Characters: Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Capitano, Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Dottore, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Pierro, Sethos, Thoma, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli (all separate)
This took me so much longer than what I have planned. I had much fun writing this:) if you have any yandere scenario requests feel free to send me an ask<3 (I most likely won’t include every single character). (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).
Masterlist
Warnings: violence, murder, imprisonment, manipulation, drugging, female reader
Word count: 9664
Albedo
The icy wind whipped against your cheeks. Snow clouded your vision. The tree branches waved in the wind and grasped at your clothes. You hissed as a thorn ripped your fabric, causing you to bleed.
As you ran down the mountain you glanced over your shoulder at every given moment.
A clearing caught your eye. Finally you could breathe out. You leans against a large tree. You needed to cover your wound. You rummaged through your pockets and to your joy you found a small scarf. The thin woven scarf was gifted to you by Klee, Albedo’s younger sister. The little girl was so proud when she gave you the scarf and wanted you to wear it all the time. Sadness filled your being at the thought of ruining the pink scarf, but your arm was more important. You bound your wound tightly with the scarf. One of the things he had thought you.
“I told you to stay inside the cabin” his voice echoed.
You froze. You prayed to the archons that it was just your mind playing tricks on you.
“This mountain is dangerous. You have no way of defending yourself” his voice soft.
You turned your head. Your eyes met his ice blue ones. They were cold, just like the icy mountain.
“Let’s go home” he walked towards you with quick steps. His arms wrapped around you and he kissed your forehead. “You are better off home, with me. I will keep you safe” his arms tightened around your form.
Alhaitham
The scribe had given you freedom. Which allowed you to freely roam the Akademiya. While Alhaitham was preoccupied in his office, you explored the university. Within a couple of months you had made friends with a couple of the students. You never told them you situation with the grey haired scholar, but they all knew that you lived together.
You had spent a lot of time plotting your escape. After all escaping the scribe was no easy task. The House of Daena was empty and quiet. The small bag you had hoisted over your shoulder filled with only the necessities. Your hands was shaking as you pushed down the door handle to a back door. The sunlight blinded you as the door opened.
You hurried down the path from the Akademiya. Your flats clicking against the cobblestone. You had to get out from Sumeru City and seek refuge in a remote town. It was risk, sure, but it was your only hope.
After an hour or so you had made your way to a small village on the outskirts of the capital. It wasn’t the ideal place, but it was your only option for the night. You was so kindly offered the spare bed by a lovely elderly woman. She didn’t ask why you looked over your shoulder every minute and that you were thankful for.
You packed your things and thanked the older woman for her kindness and went on your way.
After hours on the road your legs felt like jelly. You stopped by a abandoned house and rested on the little bench by the overgrown vegetable garden.
You woke up by the sounds of footsteps coming your way. A shadow blocked the sun.
“I must say you have slightly developed, but unfortunately you are still as predictable as ever” Alhaitham shook his head. “The elderly woman you slept at told me everything as soon as I explained the situation” his lips widened into a grin. “She thanked my for looking after such a helpless woman such as yourself.”
Strong arms picked you up and held you tight against his strong chest. “Let’s go home”.
Ayato
Ayato was a sly man. With his white clothing he looked like an angel, but that was far from the truth. You had many times heard him command the Shuumatsuban to get rid of the clan’s enemies. You knew the katana that rested by his hip when he was out on public duties, had slaughtered many.
You were afraid. Not only by him in himself, but afraid of his power and actions. That’s why you climbed over the tall walls that shielded the Kamisato residence from the outside world. Your ankles buckled under you as you landed and you whimpered out in pain. After you had collected yourself, you made a run for it. The ninja’s that were stationed around the estate had without doubt already spotted you. You hoped that they went to report to Ayato instead of chasing you down.
The way down to the beach was rocky and dangerous. Like a wild goat you quickly made your way down thanks to the adrenaline that pumped through your veins. The old rowboat was in the same stop just as you had recalled from an evening stroll with Ayaka along the beach. To your luck the two paddles were still there. You pushed the boat with all your might to the shore. The saltwater cold against your bare feet.
The swish of an arrow stopped you in your tracks. You looked down and saw it sticking out from the side of the boat. The hole was not that big, but it would cause your boat to leak in enough water for it to sink before you had made it to safety.
“Seize her!” a Shuumatsuban with high standing ordered.
A man with his face covered dragged you away from your boat and bound your wrists behind your back.
When you looked up at the cliff you saw Ayato looking down at you. He made his way down slowly and dread filled your veins.
He stopped in front of you and lifted your chin with a finger. “Did you have fun?” he leaned his face closer, his breath fanning your face. “Do not forget that I have eyes and ears everywhere”.
“Now let’s get you home. I will make sure you won’t slip through my fingers again. Though I must say your little attempt humoured me”
Baizhu
Tricking the little zombie girl made you feel horrible, but it was your only ticket to freedom. The green haired doctor had feed you herbs that made you weak and depended on his care. You had seen the label on the little bottle containing the medicine. So when he was out researching some herbs, you went through all the medical books he had in his libraries in search of the antidote. After much time and countless books you finally figured out the antidote.
You talked to Qiqi alone when Baizhu was busy treating a patient. You explained that he needed some herbs and told her that she had to deliver them to you and not her guardian. After some convincing she agreed. You crossed your fingers that she would remember and not slip up.
To your joy Qiqi had indeed remembered. The herbs tasted awful, but it was a small price to pay. It didn’t take long before you felt the medicine Baizhu had given you wear of. When he came to check up on you, you pretended that you were still weak. You asked him to go get some more medicine and he did as you said. When the green haired man left, you quickly tried to pry the window open. It was slightly jammed, but with your new strength you managed. Finally you had escaped the snake’s nest.
Your feet moved fast as you ran down the many stairs. You had to turn Baizhu to the authorities for his crimes. Just as you had made it down the stairs you bumped into someone. You didn’t need to look up to understand who it was.
“You will catch a cold running around like that” his voice cold as ice. His fingers lifted up your chin. “Tricking Qiqi really was a low move. That poor child was absolutely devastated to come home to an empty house. As for me I must say I am deeply disappointed. I have made it very clear that you will not manage without me.”
His lips curled up into a soft smile. “Let’s go home my darling. I will make some tea.”
Capitano
The first Harbinger was worshipped throughout the whole snowy nation. His underlings held great respect for him. He could be cruel and bloodthirsty, but to you he had a soft spot for.
Boots hammered against the ice ground. You knew you wouldn’t be able to run away from them, but you would not give up so easily.
As you made your way through the thick pine forest you started to regret your decision, but it was too late. As you came to the end of the forest you were surrounded by soldiers. Their spears raised towards you, stopping you in your tracks.
The sound of hooves reached your ears. The soldiers parted and bowed deep. On a tall black horse sat Capitano. Even with his face hidden by his black helmet, you could feel his intense gaze.
The stallion came to a halt and his rider dismounted. The snow crunched underneath his heels as he made his way towards you. His height towering over your trembling form. “You are all dismissed” he barked out. The soldiers bowed before they marched down the hill.
He stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity. The ice cold wind howling against the tree tops. The dark haired man finally spoke “You broke my trust. Criminals deserve to be punished.”
With a swift motion he threw you over his shoulder and held you in place with his arm. He mounted his horse and squeezed his heels against the animal’s flank.
The Harbinger’s hold on you was tight and as suffocating as his presence. As you watched the landscape blur together you realised that you would never escape him.
Childe
The sound of children’s laughter could be heard in the distance. The small fishing village Ajax’s family resides in was remote. The river that ran across it ice cold and filled to the brim with fish. You crept as quickly as you could between the trees that surround the village. To your dismay Childe’s childhood home was just by the border which meant that the red head knew the woods like the back of his hand.
You winced as you heard Teucer calling out for his brother. The little child had noticed your disappearance.
You picked up your speed and ran as fast as your legs could carry you. It was difficult with the heavy snow, but you had to keep going.
A flash of red stopped you in your tracks. You quickly hid behind a rock and held your breath.
“It’s not nice to run away” a chirpy voice said. Childe.
Of course he found you. It was only a matter of time. His soft laughter rang throughout the woods. He was close. Too close.
Suddenly he jumped onto the rock you had hidden behind. You yelped and backed away. He grinned as he looked down on you. His eyes wide and crazed. “If you wanted to play hide and seek why didn’t you just say so?” he laughed. His laughter chilling.
He jumped down and landed just a few centimetres from your legs. He bent down and dragged you to your feet. “Teucer, Tonia and Anthon are all waiting for you back home. You wouldn’t want to disappoint them would you?” he tilted his head and faked a sad expression.
He wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly. “When we get home after our visit here, I will never let you leave my side. Is that understood?” his voice low. He chuckled as he pulled back to study your expression. “That frightened look of yours is really something. Makes me wanna eat you up” he kissed your cheek. “Don’t make me lose my cool, okay?”
Cyno
The sun was bright and high. The heat was unbearable and you regretted not seeking shade. The sand danced across the dune as the wind gave you some mercy from the heat.
In front off you on the scorching sand laid the lifeless bodies of the eremites that had helped you with your escape from the general. Blood coloured the sand red and the ruins surrounding you were splattered in red. The metallic sand made you dizzy.
Cyno stood before the bodies with his back turned to you. His white hair was coated in red. His strong muscles made him look like a god as he stood there with his bloodied spear. He turned to you. His face blank.
“I am sorry you had to see that” his expression apologetic.
He planted the spear in the ground and walked towards you slowly like he was afraid of scaring you. He squatted down so that he was on your eye level. You pulled your legs towards you as much as you could.
“Why did you run away?”
You only stared at him with big eyes. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. His head piece long discarded. “The desert is a dangerous place. You have no idea how scared I was when I noticed your disappearance” his eyes sad. “When I saw you among those eremites… I have never felt such anger. I had no choice but to eliminate them. Those who try to take you away from me deserves punishment. I did the right thing with ridding the world of such people” his hands was trembling in anger.
“I will make sure no one tries to take you away from me again. I will always be by your side” he kissed your tears away with a soft smile.
Dainsleif
Dainsleif had long lost his sanity. At least when it came to you. That much was clear.
You had just managed to escape him while he slept. The ruin you had chosen for your resting place for the night was eerie quite. Even the monsters were gone. You would have found it weird had you not been on the run. You manoeuvred through the dark ruins as fast as you could. After a while you made it out.
Your relived expression fell as you took in your surroundings. The monsters you had disappeared were now standing in front of you. You slowly backed away as you thought up an escaped plan. Just as you were about to make a run for it, dark blue power lit up the area in front of you. With movements faster then what your eyes could see, the monsters were slain.
The blond traveler looked at you with a look that sent shivers down your spine. He flicked off the blood that coated his blade as he made his way towards you.
“I expected more from you. To believe you so ignorantly took the bait is truly disappointing” he shook his head. “But on the plus side, I have now proved to you that you will never make it without me. Let me be your protector. Let me take care of you” he kneeled in front of you as he took your small hand in his and kissed it gently.
You could only cry silent as the Twilight Sword led you inside the ruins. Dainsleif was a man of his word and you knew very well that he would never break his promise to himself.
Diluc
The winery was a beautiful place. When you first arrived you thought it looked like something straight out from a fairytale. You could not be more wrong as you soon learned.
Diluc was a desperate man. He had tricked himself into believing he was your saviour and he would do anything in order to protect you. If he had to kill someone in order to do so he would not bat an eye.
You had escaped through the cellar door and out the cellar window. You had been unsure if you fitted through the window, but to your surprise you fitted like a glove. The moon casted a pale light against the manor and it made you pause in your steps by its beauty.
The stables were empty just as you had expected. You tacked up the chestnut mare Diluc had gifted you. You kissed her forehead as you collected yourself. He would come after you.
As the mare galloped through the dense forest you could hear the distant shouts from Diluc. You gritted your teeth as you made your horse run faster.
Just as you thought you had made it, you heard the dreaded screams of his hawk. You had lost.
Your eyes were heavy as you slowly gained consciousness. You were tied to the desk chair inside his bedroom. Your bindings was of the finest red silk. You shivered at the similarities between you and a neatly wrapped present. In front of you were a highly distressed red haired man. He was walking back and forth, muttering something to himself.
“How could I be so careless as to not look better after her… I am a fool” he hissed to himself.
After a few minutes he stopped and turned to you. His expression softened as he cupped your face. “I apologise for the bindings, but it is necessary. You could be hurt you know?” his voice soft, but serious. “I will never let any harm happen to you. Ever.”
Dottore
The doctor’s blood red eyes always sent shivers down your spine. Even though he was human, he seemed like anything but. His embraces felt like a cage and his sweet words like poison. It didn’t take you long to understand why he was the most feared man in the entirety of Teyvat.
Dottore held you within his estate and refused to let you leave. Heavily armed guards guarded your chambers. You had tried to convince them to let you go and the next day you were delivered their served head on a platter. Dottore was cruel that much was obvious.
You knew you could never outsmart Dottore. He was one of the smartest beings on the plant and he never pretended not to be. If you couldn’t trick Dottore, you would trick the servants.
The long hallways in Dottore’s mansion were dark and empty. You sneaked through the manor as quietly as possible. With the key you had stolen clutched in your hand you made your way to the garden door. You twisted the key in the keyhole and pushed the door open. Cold air filled your lungs. Your eyes lit up at the sight of the snow filled landscape.
Your freedom was however short lived.
“If you take a step outside of that door I will behead this woman” a deep voice reached your ears.
You froze and slowly turned. There in the doorway stood the Harbinger. His raven-like mask were nowhere to be found. His hand was wrapped around the neck of the maid who you had stolen the key from. Her face was filled with fear and she looked at you pleadingly.
As much as you longed for freedom, you could not bear to have the blood from someone else on your hands. You walked back in and locked the door with a lowered head. You placed the key in Dottore’s waiting hand.
He slipped the key onto his pocket with a smile. “Good girl.”
“However…. I cannot let such an action go unpunished” he tck-ed. He threw the maid across the room. Her back hit the wall with a loud thud.
“I have given you all a specific rule you all must follow. I have made what would happen if you would ever break it quite clear, have I not?” his voice as cold as the unforgiving landscape that surrounded the estate. The maid muttered a “yes lord Harbinger”.
The blue haired man scoffed and turned to you. “I suppose I should teach you a lesson” his eyes held nothing but cold determination.
With three long strides he stopped in front of the maid. Her eyes filled with horror. He pulled out a sharp and sleek scalpel and slight her throat in a precise motion. “You deserve much more suffering, but I don’t want me darling to be witness to that so this would have to do” he sneered at the maid as she gurgled on her own blood.
He threw the scalpel and wiped his hands on his pants. “Let’s get you back to your chambers shall we.”
He snaked his arm around your waist and led you out of the hallway. “I trust that you will stop your escape attempts and accept that you belong here with me” his voice smooth like honey.
Gorou
The general of the resistance was a generous man. He always looked after his soldiers and treated them with respect and you were no different. He loved you with his entire being, that much was certain.
He never brought you to the frontlines. You were to stay at the base with a few trusted soldiers that looked after you. They all knew about your situation, but no one cared. They all were just glad that the general had someone who brought him comfort through the tough times.
As the soldiers exchanged posts you were able to sneak out of the cabin. You did not get far before a certain brunette had tracked you down.
His big cerulean eyes wide as his whole body tensed. “Why are you out here?” his big eyes not blinking once. His ears alert.
“You didn’t try to leave right? It must be something else? Right?” his voice raised. His fangs visible as he sneered.
He gripped your hand tightly as he dragged you back to the camp. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but I need to keep you safe” he looked at you with a sad expression as he hurried back to the camp.
The hybrid had always been extremely overprotective to the point it suffocated you. He always told he did what he did for your own good.
The next nights he held you tightly in his arms as he slept. His fluffy tail wrapping around your leg in a protective manner.
Heizou
The detective had locked you up in his own home, claiming it was a way to protect you. Every door and every window (and some drawers) had complicated locks on. Only a few doors and drawers were unlocked.
Heizou was out on a detective job so you were left all alone. This was your chance to get out. You knew all to well that the detective most likely would track you down, but you could not let such an opportunity pass.
The puzzle that was the lock-mechanism on the front door seemed different. Heizou did have the habit of changing them so you didn’t think too much of it. The puzzle was tricky, but after a while you were able to figure it out. The door unlocked and you squealed in joy.
You hadn’t come far before someone wrapped their arms around your shoulders. “Boo” he whispered into your ears causing you to yelp.
“Aww… Did I scare you now?” his tone mocking. He leaned his entire body weight onto you causing you to stumble. He chuckled at your shuffling and poked your cheek. “I’m glad you passed my little test sweetheart” he purred.
You regained your senses and pushed him off. You glared at him as he laughed.
“You really are entertaining aren’t you? You thought that I would ever let you go… Now that’s just too funny!” he wiped his tears as he laughed.
“With your naivety, you are better of with me” he grabbed your arm and pulled you close. Your noses almost touching. He cupped your cheeks and smiled at you gently. “I will take care of you, darling.”
Itto
The brutish oni was really clingy and always felt the need to have you glued to his side. Getting alone time was nearly impossible, but you managed when he was out organising a onikabuto match.
While the white haired man was busy making posters with his gang, you snuck out of the house. Which was surprisingly easy when he wasn’t home. The city was lively and the lit lanterns flickering in the wind. Stars littering the clear night sky. You sneaked among the multiple food stalls. The smell of fried fish filling the air.
The sound of a booming laughter made your limbs freeze to the ground. You could recognise that laughter everywhere. You turned your head and your eyes widened in fear at your confirmed suspicion. Before a dessert stall stood Itto with Mamoru. “We gotta get something for the gang. You brought money right?” the oni nudged Mamoru who muttered a “yes boss”.
You quickly hid behind a small group of someone who stood before the boba shop. Luckily you where shorter than the group and you were able to stay hidden.
“Wait… Why does it smell like [Name]?”
“I don’t know boss. Isn’t she home?”
Your heartbeat hammered against your ribs. You carefully peaked through the group. Itto was sniffing in the air, the action almost comical, had it not been for your predicament. His closed eyes snapped open. His red slit eyes met yours. His body tense like a hunting dog. His expression filled with shock. “Doll?” he called out.
Your feet moved before you even registered it. You sprinted down the street. Your sandals clicking against the ground. You didn’t need to look back to know that Itto was right behind you.
You jumped down the railing and you were thankful that the jumps wasn’t too high as you landed on the soft grass. Just as you made it behind a small building, a big hand grabbed your arm. You lost your balanced and was pulled flushed against a broad chest.
“Why are you outside?” his voice eerily quiet. “I thought I made it clear that it’s dangerous, you are not a big strong oni. Humans are so fragile and weak” he pulled you into a tight hug. His face pressed against your soft hair. “You better listen to me next time… or I would have to tie you up” he pressed a kiss on top of your head followed by a soft “I love you”.
Kaeya
The Calvary Captain’s office was quite save from the sound of the captain’s pen scribbling. He hadn’t acknowledged you since he brought you inside his spacious office. His silence was scarier than his anger. He continued to write his report about some mission. The grandfather clock in the corner ticking.
After what felt like an eternity Kaeya looked up at you. He folded his hands and leaned his chin on them. His lone eye looking straight at you, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You broke my trust did you not?” his honeyed voice terrifying. He tck-ed. “I am disappointed, but not surprised” he sighed. “I should punish you” he unfolded his hands and drummed two fingers across the rim of his empty glass.
“Why would I want to be locked up in some apartment?” you spat at the smug knight. His lips stretched up into a uncanny smile.
“Oh my…. You are more naive than what I gave you credit for” he chuckled. He stood up suddenly, causing the chair legs to scrap against the hardwood floor. He walked towards you like a stalking wolf. His eyes hungry and brimming with madness.
He stopped before you and leaned down on the arms of your chair. His face close to yours. Too close. His crystal blue eye scanned yours. You felt completely naked underneath his gaze. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know how you so foolishly conceived the knights guarding the house?” he laughed. His laughter sickening. “I dealt with them as soon as they reported back to me. It was a pain cleaning of the blood from my new boots, but some sacrifices must be made” he sighed.
He grasped your chin and leaned closer “I will never ever let you go.”
He straightened up. His expression lighthearted. “Now let’s get something to eat shall we?” he pulled you up with a tight grip. You looked down on his boots as he dragged you out of his office, noticing the few blood speckles he had missed.
Kaveh
The house Kaveh had constructed for you two was like a maze. With many corridors and doors, it was easy to get lost. He had built you both a home where he could play out his fantasy. He had kept you locked away in the mansion for months. Kaveh said it was to keep you safe and away from prying eyes.
You tried to force the window open for the 10th time, but to no avail. The window was still only a few centimetres open. Kaveh had proudly showed you the windows he had constructed that would not open more than a few centimetres. You had hoped that the design of the master architect had failed, but to your disappointment they had not.
Your eyes scanned the room till the landed on the doors to the winter garden. The glass were delicate and beautiful. You studied it closely till you came to the conclusion that they might be fragile enough to shatter. You picked up a stool that were standing in the corner. You lifted the furniture over your head and smashed the windows with all your might. The glass doors shattered into million pieces, looking like glittering diamonds. You dropped the stool and climbed through the window. You hissed as you cut yourself on the jagged pieces of glass that were still standing.
The winter garden was cozily decorated and it almost made you sad to leave it. The door out to the garden was locked which wasn’t a surprise. To your luck one of the miniature stone statues that resembled birds of all sizes, was perfect for shattering windows. It almost broke your heart at the thought of shattering the beautiful stained glass walls, but you had no choice. With all your might you managed to break it.
You ran as fast as you could through the garden. You had to find the exit before Kaveh came home from his meeting with his new client. As you were about to climb the tall fence that surrounded the property, a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down. You back hit the soft grass and straddling you were Kaveh. His eyes filled with betrayal and anger.
“How could you?!” his voice loud. His grip on your shoulders tightened. “After all that I have done for you?!” his features twisted into rage and hurt.
You tried to defend yourself, but your words died on you tongue. You had never seen Kaveh that angry. Fear filled you entire being and you felt sick. You casted a last look at the flush forest behind the fence. You knew that this would be your last time outside for a very long time.
Kazuha
With your breath ragged you ran through the dense forest. You had finally managed to escape the white haired samurai. You just needed to reach the beach and board one of the fishing boats that were docked at the dock.
You finally made it to the clearing that lead down to the beach. You waved at the fishermen and they turned to greet you. The dock was old and badly maintained. Splinters poking out and threatening to stab your feet. Just as you were about to ask the captain on the rather small boat, a gust of wind nearly knocked you down.
Red maple leaves fell gently down form the sky. The man in front of you moved quickly and elegantly. His movements like a dance, completely ensnaring you with his beauty. Crimson rain littered the air before it splattered your face. The warm liquid brought you quickly to your senses. Kazuha swiftly slashed his katana, slitting the throat of the captain. The red eyed man landed gently and wiped his blade with a handkerchief. The white fabric staining red in an instant.
He turned his gaze to you. His lips bore a gentle smile. In a blink of an eye he was right in front of you. He lifted his hand and gently wiped the bloodstains of your skin. “What is my delicate flower doing here?” his voice soft.
You swallowed. You had yet to let you eyes wander to the slaughtered boat crew. Kazuha’s eyes scanned yours. His long eyelashes fluttered. Tears ran down your cheeks in crystal clear rivers. You shoved him away as hard as you could. He stumbled back, but you knew he held back his strength. He had let you push him. “Get away from me!” your voice weak and trembling. You choked out a cry as your fell down to the wooden floor. The wood was soaked with red blood. You let your eyes wander. You wanted to throw up at the sight of the dead boatmen.
“You know I can’t do that. Without me you’re lost. I need to protect you. You are the only light in my life and I know we will live happily ever after” his voice was pained and vulnerable. His calloused hands gripped your shoulders in desperation. “I am never going to let you leave me” his smile crazed and not fitting his saddened eyes.
He wrapped his arms around you in an embrace that reminded you of a cage. His face nestled into your soft hair. “I will make you happy, just you wait and see.”
Lyney
A swarm of cards flew over your face, momentarily blinding you. You ducked your head, but lost balance as something caught your leg. It was a makeshift snare made of multiple colourful handkerchiefs. Playful giggles reached your ears.
“The surprised look on your face is to die for! So adorable!” his voice gleeful.
You quickly got back on your feet and was about to make a run for it when Lyney tackled you. You landed with a groan, the cobblestone hard against your back. Lyney pinned your hands to the ground as he sat on top of your midriff. He grinned as he looked down on you.
“It’s no fun in you escaping you know?” he tilted his head. He kissed your nose before he jumped off you. “You could at least be a little more creative” he shook his head in faux disappointment.
“Asshole” you sneered at him.
His cat like eyes crinkled in amusement at your remark. “How rude” he snickered.
Just as sudden as he had jumped you, his expression changed. His eyes colder than ice and his mouth a thin line. He grabbed your wrist and dragged you after him.
He unlocked the house he, his siblings and you resided in. He quickly locked the door after him and dragged you into your bedroom. He let go of your hand. You quickly stumbled as far away from him as you could.
“Why can’t you let me have nice things? Why [Name]?” his eyes narrowed. It was in moments like this that you remembered his role in The Fatui. His eyes held a dangerous glint that dared you to cross him.
Your eyes widened in horror. “No, no, no… Please Lyney!” you begged. Tears trialing down your cheeks and pooling down onto the soft carpet.
“You gave me no choice. This is the consequences of your own actions” he shushed you as he clasped the chain onto your left ankle. He gently kissed your tears away. “It’s only temporary, okay?” he gently stroked your cheekbone. “I love you darling, don’t forget that.”
Neuvillette
Even though the judge bore aesthetically similarities with the sea otters that lived in the Fontanian waters, he was not like them at all. They were sweet playful creatures, and the judge a selfish cruel man. His good reputation made you sick. If only the citizens of Fontaine knew him like you did.
He had kept you hidden and locked up in his beautiful home. That was until you had managed to convince the Melusine that was in charge of looking after you that day. At first she refused to let you out, but when you told her that you were going to buy a present for Neuvillette she yielded. If it was under other circumstances you would have felt bad for tricking her.
The bustling streets of The Court of Fontaine a familiar sight. You breathed in the air. Oh how you had missed the smell of new baked goods and the music of street musicians.
You knew it would not take long before Neuvillette would notice your disappearance. You had to get out of the city and onto an aqua bus before he sent the Gardes after you.
You bought a ticket with the money you had managed to steal from Neuvillette. You quickly made it up the stairs to the aqua bus station. The aqua bus was just about to depart when a group of Gardes blocked the exit behind you. You leaped for the bus only to collide with a broad chest. You could recognise that scent no matter where in Teyvat you found yourself.
You slowly raised your head. Neuvillette looked down at you with a furious expression. You had only seen that expression when he had caught you chatting with other men (it didn’t matter to him that your conversation was only friendly and nothing more). His lilac eyes bored into yours, stripping your soul naked.
“I told you to never leave the residence” his voice low and lazed with anger.
His horns glowing light blue. His hands balled into fists by his sides, clearly trying to ground himself. You lowered your head.
“We are going back at once and you better not make any commotions” his hand turned you around and firmly guided you to the lift. One of the Gardes reached out his hand in order to size you properly. “Get your filthy hand away from her” Neuvillette’s voice boomed.
The Garde tried to defend himself but was cut short by Neuvillette. “Leave at once or you will regret it” his teeth bared. His sharp fangs fully visible. The Garde bowed and quickly left.
Neuvillette’s hand tightened its hold on your shoulder. “When we get home I demanded an explanation as to why you left your home” he whispered into your ear.
Pantalone
Pantalone was sitting on a expensive leather chair. His shoes polished in a way you could see your own reflection in the black leather. In his gloved hands was a black pistol with details in white gold.
In front of him on the cold polished hardwood floor knelt a man. His hands were bound behind his back. His eyes were looking pleadingly up at the Harbinger. He was a guard whom you had befriended. He had so kindly helped you escape before you both were caught red handed by the ninth Harbinger.
The black haired Harbinger turned his face towards you. “This is what he gets for taking what’s mine” his voice as smooth as velvet. His eyes dark and his smile cunning. He turned towards the bound man. “I must admit that I am a rather greedy man. I really hate when people try to take what’s mine” he sighed and clicked his tongue. He flicked the safety and pointed the pistol at the guards head.
“No!” you screamed as you desperately tried to get lose from your silk bindings.
Pantalone shushed you gently. “He asked for it my love” his voice sweet as sugar.
“Any last words?” he smiled. “Hmm… I don’t think you deserve any” he fired the pistol before the poor guard had the time to open his mouth. Pantalone’s smile stretched into a sickening grin. The man’s brain splatters onto the expansive rug.
You screamed as you tried to swallow the bile. “How could you?! You disgusting monster! I hate you!” you screamed while thick tears ran down your cheeks.
“Don’t cry my dear. He’s not worth shedding your lovely tears over” Pantalone kneeled in front of you. His eyes gentle. “I will make sure that no other men like that ever gets between us. You are mine and nothing will ever change that” his voice low.
Pierro
The sorcerer had forced you to your knees with his magic. You could feel the power tugging at your mind and it hurt. His pale eyes boring into yours. “Have you forgotten your place?” his gruff voice echoed inside the ballroom.
You glared up at him unable to do anything else. He kneeled before you and harshly lifted your chin. His expression harsher than the unforgiving climate outside. “I must say I’m utterly disappointed in your behaviour. You should be ashamed.”
You tried to get control over your limbs, but to no avail. Your words died on your tongue and you were unable to make any sound.
The white haired man scoffed and released his hold on you. His magic released you completely and you crawled backwards and away from him. Creating as much distance as possible.
The Jester rose to his feet and dusted off invisible dust from his elegant robe. “If you were anyone else I would have executed you for your crime. Do not forget that our relationship was blessed directly blessed from Her Majesty Herself” he sneered.
He hauled you up to your feet, his iron grip bruising. He dragged you down the corridors and up the many stairs to your chambers. He slammed the door open and dragged you inside.
“Think over what you have done. I don’t take such humiliation lightly” his eyes narrow as he looked down on you. “Don’t think you will ever get away. You belong to me and that’s final” with that he closed the door and locked it making you all alone.
Sethos
You ran over the dunes as fast as you could. You had to be fast. Behind you you could hear Sethos voice as he called for you. To your misfortune the free spirited man was fast. Extremely fast. Your sandals were filled with sand, but you couldn’t care less.
Suddenly it became quiet. Too quiet. You hid behind a rock formation and listened. Suddenly a figure slid down the dune to your left and leaped on top of you. He was precise enough that make sure you landed on the sand and not the rock behind you. His wild hair rustling in the wind.
The sight in front of you reminded you of the time when he swept you away and locked you away inside the temple. He had first gotten to know you when he visited Sumeru City. He had told you it was love at first sight and he asked you to come and visit the desert with him. You were taken aback by his impulsiveness, but you soon grew accustom to it.
“If you wanted to play hide and seek you could have just said so” his entire weight on you. He was silent for a few moments. His crystal green eyes scanning yours. You could see his gears turning. “Don’t tell me you tried to run away from me…? You would never do something like that? Right?” his voice lazed with disbelief and desperation.
In a swift movement you were brought to you feet. His hold on you right and you wondered if he thought you would fly away if he let go. “Let’s get back to the temple” his voice back to its jovial self, but his eyes clouded with obsession and desperation.
Thoma
The white mop mopped over the hardwood floor in a fast motion. The white colour quickly staining red. A crimson red pool of blood was spilled across the floor. The sight made you sick. Bile raising up in your throat. You were sitting in the coroner of the room , hugging your knees. The blonde man stopped his mopping and raised his head and looked at you. His face splattered with blood. He sighed and leaned the mop against the wall.
“I am so sorry you had to see that, my angle” his green eyes pleading. He crouched in front of your trembling form. He gently caressed your cheek.
The friendly and kind housekeeper was gone and replaced by a green eyed monster that slaughtered anything in its path. He had beheaded the kind men that helped you escape from the Kamisato estate.
“I am wounded that you tried to leave me. What did I do wrong?” his eyes glossy.
You locked me away you wanted to say, but you kept your mouth shut.
“My master has been kind and let us stay here together and this is your gratitude?” his voice slightly raised. His eyes scanned over your form and landed on your bloodied nightdress. “I have to get that off” he muttered as he quickly rose. His movements frantic as he looked for a washcloth.
“My gratitude?” your voice shaky, but loud. “You have taken everything away from me!” you stood up. Your legs shaky.
Thoma’s eyes narrowed. “Watch your tongue” his voice cold.
You swallowed. You understood now better than anyone why so many feared the “fixer”.
His hold on the washcloth tight. His knuckles whiter than snow. “Go to your room and change. I will wash your nightdress later” he spoke through gritted teeth.
Your colour drained from your face as you hurried to your room. Your bedroom seemed more like a prison than anything else.
Tighnari
The forest watcher had always lectured you about various plants and their effects and benefits. At first you thought it was boring, but after awhile you learned to use it to your advantage. Taking herbs from Tighnari’s beloved collection was tricky, but not impossible. You had read through every single book he had on botany. Your plan was bulletproof.
Tighnari had gently sipped on the cup of tea you had brewed for him while he read through some reposts. He had then fallen limp over the kitchen table. You checked his pulse and breathes out in relief when you felt his pulse against your fingers. You wanted to escape from the obsessed fox, not kill him.
You rummage through his pocket for his key. The key was heavy in your hand and it was almost a surreal feeling when you twisted it in the lock. The air fresh and welcoming. With a last look at the unconscious man you began your journey.
The rainforest was tricky to navigate in, but luckily you had stolen both a map and a compass from Tighnari. Yet again you were glad you paid attention to his boring lectures. The sound of branches snapping made you stop in your tracks. The hair on the back of your neck rose.
“Poisoning me…” his voice echoed through the treetops. “Your audacity is truly something” he sneered. “Look at me when I’m talking to you” his voice nearer.
You slowly turned around and were met with a angry hazel eyes. His long ears pinned back in anger. His arms folded over his chest.
“The rainforest is dangerous. Let’s get back” you could see he was holding back his fury. His jaw clenched. He groaned and dragged a hand over his face. “I guess I have no choice…” he sighed as he stalked towards you.
Quicker thank you could register he had trapped you within his arms. “I will never let you go. I’m just trying to protect you” he whispered against your ear.
Something pricked your neck. Your eyes widened and darted to Tighnari’s. “It had to be down. Consider it… pay back” he supported your body as you lost consciousness.
Venti
The anemo archon was an eerie man. He was all smiles and friendly laughter among the crowd disguised as Venti the bard, but with you he was like a completely different person. Sure he was still easygoing, but his obsession and possession overshadowing anything else. He had told you many times with a playful smirk that he was undoubtedly the weakest archon. You never believed him. You had seen with your very own eyes what he was capable of doing to those he thought was undeserving of your attention, but you had yet to see his full potential. Though you must admit that you rather did not wish to witness that.
He kept you in the ruins of Stormterror’s lair. He had made the ruin as liveable as possible and even quite cozy. He treated you like royalty and gave you everything except freedom. You thought it was rather stupid considering he was the god of freedom.
Escaping the ruin was almost completely impossible considering the wind shields that surrounded it and the dragon that acted as a guard. When you finally managed to escape and run over the grassy meadows you were so happy you cried.
Your tears clouded your vision causing you to become less aware of your surroundings.
Strong wind slammed against causing you to lose balance. There in front of you were Barbados. He was not in his usual clothing, but rather in a godly outfit. White big wings flapping behind him. His cerulean eyes glowing intensely in the night. He was completely silent, but you felt the anger oozing out from him.
You were completely frozen to the ground and you were unsure if it was his doing or your fear taking over. You wanted to explain yourself, but your voice failed you completely.
With a gust of wind you were swept up into his arms. His arms strong and squeezed you flushed against him. His wings flapped silently as he soared through the air. High up in the air you were able to see Mondstadt City and you quickly came to the realisation that you would probably never step a foot inside its gates again.
Wanderer/Scara
In front off you was a raging man. His eyes wide and filled with fury. His hands held anemo power which he sliced through the merchants that had guided you through the tick rainforest. Wanderer’s hair was slicked back with blood. He delivered the last strike to the merchant before he landed. He slowly turned around to face you. His hands shaking with anger.
You opened your mouth, but quickly shut your mouth at his raised hand. “Those lowlife who think they can take you away from me” he laughed manically. “How dumb can you be?” Wanderer sneered through laughter. “Because you would never leave me right? After all I have been through? Right?” his eyes crazed as he continued to spew nonsense. “We are destined to be together. It’s my right. How dare they to take that away from me?! I should revive them just so that I could kill them again” his laughter sounded almost forced.
He wrapped his arms around you. You could feel tears against your neck as he wept. You were astonished by his vulnerability. It almost made you pity him. Just almost.
He quickly regained his composure and roughly wiped his tears on his sleeve. “Let’s go home…” his voice distant.
The journey back had been quite. When you finally arrived back he shoved you inside. His eyes wide and intense. “You have no idea how much I wanna lock you up in a cage right now” he muttered. His porcelain white hand tightly gripping yours. “I will make sure so that you never leave me. I need you. I need you so much it hurts. So don’t ever try and get away.”
Wriothesley
You had long planned your escape from The Fortress of Meropide. Unlike the other inmates you were completely innocent. You had been wrongfully imprisoned on the request of Wriothesley. You had gained the trust of some of you fellow inmates and they promised to help you escape. You had chose the pipe cleaning day as your day of escaping. All went smoothly and exactly as planned.
The only step left in your plan was descend into the waters that the pipes were connected too and swim out to freedom. After that you had to avoid the detectors, but you were confident in your diving abilities.
As you were saying your thanks to the kind inmates, the sound of heavy boots against metal echoed in the pipes. In the opening of the pipe were Wriothesley. His imposing figure sending shivers down you spine.
The metal decorations on his outfit clattering with each step. The handcuffs on his hip catching the light. His icy eyes held an unreadable emotion. “Well well… What might this ruckus be?” he tilted his head and placed his hands on his hips. His tone held a dangerous edge to it. Wriothesley eyes glued onto yours and completely ignoring the others.
A bottomless pit formed in your stomach and you almost threw up. You swallowed the taste of vomit. Your freedom was so close, yes so very far.
“Are you aware your sentences are going to be so much longer?” his lips curled up into a little smirk. “I thought you were smarter than this” with two steps he reached you. He hooked off his cuffs and cuffed your wrists. “It seems you need a more secure cell… Luckily I know just the one” he leaned closer to your ear “I will make sure you always stick to my side”.
You had never regretted something more than your little escape attempt. The new so called cell was a bedroom connected to the Duke’s living quarters. Your freedom had never been so distant as it was now.
Xiao
You ran as fast as you could. The landscape blurring together as you navigated through the forest. You had to escape him. Or at least try. Tue bamboo forest was dense and dark. Your human eyes struggled to see clearly. You could hear birds fleeing in the distance. He was close.
You had ran away when you learned that he had slaughtered the man who had so kindly gifted you sun pork buns. The adepti had let you run first, which surprised you. Even though you didn’t understand why, you were grateful for your head start.
Suddenly a green black cloud appeared in front off you. You tried to turn in your heel to flow, but was stopped when a hand grabbed your collar. You were momentarily unable to breath. It was only when he loosened his grip that you were able to gasp for air.
“I don’t understand you mortals. I only do what I have to protect you. I give you everything you need and more” he sounded confused and annoyed.
“Without me you would not have managed to survive. At all” he spun you around so you could face him. “Did me killing that man hurt you that much? I have killed many of you near acquaintances and you never batted an eye…” his voice trailed off as he was lost in thought. “Could it be that you never realised? Never mind. It doesn’t matter now” he sighed.
At the thought of him killing your near friends without you knowing made you sob helplessly. He only started at you in confusion.
He clicked his tongue before he hauled you over his shoulder. “I need to ask Madame Ping for a tea pot it seems…” his voice a frustrated groan.
Zhongli
You had sought shelter at a kind older couple. You needed to regain your energy before you fled the city. The woman was kind and gladly cooked for you. She completely denied your help. You stayed at their house for two weeks before the older woman knocked at your bedroom door and told you a friend of her husband was coming to visit.
The atmosphere in the living room was as tense as it could get. In front of you were Zhongli. He was the friend the couple had spoken so warmly about. The brunette was sitting in the sofa besides the woman, one of his legs over the other. His hand elegantly holding a cup of tea. His reptile eyes staring you down intensely.
You felt like sinking into the floor. Your hands trembling as you took a sip of the tea. The bitter taste doing nothing to soothe your nerves.
“I don’t know if you are aware, but I and miss [Name] know each other’s very well” his smile sharp. To hear your husband speaking in such manner made your heart beat against your chest.
You knew it was unwise to go against Morax and his contracts, but you had no choice. He had tricked you into signing the contract that would imprison. Zhongli had terrified you before you knew of his identity as the Geo Archon, but when you found out about his identity you were absolutely petrified.
Zhongli hummed at a joke the man had told. His golden eyes never leaving yours. His lips twisted up into a grin which revealed his sharp fangs. With the golden light from the sunset outside he looked even more inhuman than ever before. You felt small and utterly helpless before him. You dreaded his punishment that you knew would income when he brought you back.
After an hour and an half had past Zhongli excused himself. “I must take my leave now. [Name] you should come with” his order clear as day. He smiled to the couple and bowed in courtesy.
You swallowed and nodded. You thanked the couple for their hospitality and left with Zhongli.
When you were out of earshot he turned to you. “A broken contract is no laughing matter my dear” his hand gripping yours. “I will make it clear to you when we get back who you belong to” his voice deep and determined.
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