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atomic--peach · 10 months

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Her Grace's Handmaiden. Pt3

(Cersei Lannister x Fem Reader x Jaime Lannister: SMUT threesome, voyerism, praise kink, oral (Male receiving) )

AO3 VERSION: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48276340

After the event with the mare, the queen saw fit that you would be given basic riding lessons.

"Right, now just do exactly as he says" Cersei emphasized. "No second guessing or backtalk. Treat him as you would me."

"Of course, Your Grace" You were wrapped in a thin wool cloak and worn leather boots, bracing against the chill of the coming autumn. The summer had to end sometime, you supposed.

"My brother is being very generous, offering to teach you." Cersei reminded you.

"I am very grateful for the help" You kept your eyes trained ahead, not wanted to see presumptuous by looking at the queen too much or talking too much.

It was bizarre, two high-borns taking such an interest in someone like you. It made you uneasy, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I certainly don't to embarrass myself more than I already have."

Jaime was waiting for you by the stables, dressed in sturdy riding leather. His blonde hair flopped into his eyes and was brushed back with a gloved hand before he spotted your approach and smiled charmingly.

"Sweet sister" he greeted Cersei before resting his pale green eyes on you "And your new plaything."

"Now Jaime" Cersei chided him, "Be nice, Y/N isn't used to your teasing like I am."

"She will be" Jaime smirked at you, watching the blush creep up your neck and across your face. "Come, let's get started."

"I'll be waiting with the party, my dear." Cersei touched your shoulder, quickening your pulse as you whipped around.

"Your Grace, you're leaving?"

"Rest assured, you are in good hands" The queen insisted, flashing you a cryptic smile. "Good luck"

"Charming, isn't she?" Jaime came from behind you, watching as his sister left you to your own devices. "Come now, the faster we start, the faster you can stop being bullied by Clegane and that rabid stallion of his."

Eager to stand (er, ride) on your own two feet, you followed him before realizing there was only one horse readied.

"Uh, Ser?"

"You didn't think I'd jump to letting you ride on your own that quickly, did you?" Jaime practically laughed in your face. "Here, you first."

"I..." you gawked at the saddle the horse was set with. "You mean riding astride?"

"Something wrong with it?"

You thought for a moment before embracing your mistress's request to trust the knight.

"No, not at all"

He hoisted you up onto the back of his sturdy mount before swinging his legs up behind you. You swallowed a gasp, suddenly finding yourself pressed between the pommel of the saddle and Ser Jaime's chest.

"Let's get into some open terrain so you have space to learn"

Before you could protest, the knight had set the beast off at a quick gallop, one hand gripping the reigns and the other arm wrapped firmly around your waist to keep you from falling off.

Once you were well away from the party and in a broad scope of field, Jaime stopped the horse.

"Now," He handed you the reigns and without preamble place two solid hands on your shoulders. "The first thing to know about proper horse riding is your posture. You want to guide the beast properly? You have to sit it properly."

He gently guided your shoulder back, straightening your spine in the process.

"Now there's a saying my riding master taught me as a boy. And while it may seem forward, I need you to trust me."

Your skin prickled at the near constant contact between your bodies but tried to push it down and focus on the lesson. "Her Grace insisted you were the best. You have my full trust, Ser."

"Good Girl" Jaime praised in a tone that almost melted into a purr. "Now the first thing you want to remember about riding a horse is; Shoulders like a Soldier..."His hands slid from your shoulders, down your arms, before coming to rest on your hips. "and Hips like a Whore."

"Ser!" You gasped but Jaime tutted you into submission.

"I warned you it was forward, but just trust me." He soothed, "Now I am going to drive the horse forward slowly, and I want you to just-" His grip on your hips tightened "Follow the motion."

The beast began to move forward at a gentle walk and as the they went; Jaime's hands slowly guided your hips to match the motion of the horse's gait.

"A little faster?" He asked and you nodded, growing in confidence.

The walk turned to a trot, and the trot to a brisk cantor, and finally to a full gallop which left you breathless, clinging to the horse with your thighs as if you might fall off at any moment.

"Very good" Jaime practically cooed in your ear, slowing the beast back down to a peaceful trop. "You are everything my sister promised."

You beamed at that, proud to have lived up to your mistress's praises.

As your breath returned to you, you began to notice something different. Something that hadn't been there when you started your ride.

A hardness pressed against your ass, brushing up against you with the motion of the beast below you.

"S-ser Jaime." You swallowed. "We should go-"

"Go back, so soon?" Jaime crooned, pulling you closer to him in the saddle and bringing the horse back to a quick trot. "It's a lovely day, we should take advantage of it"

The hardness grew, and you tried not to notice until you felt it twitch slightly and Jaime muffled a moan in his throat.

"I don't think Her Grace would-"

"Would what?" Jaime grinned knowingly at your confused tone. "Sweetling, why do you think she left you out here all alone with me?"

"Because she trusts you, you're her brother."

"Hm" Jaime's hands massaged your hips slowly, running over your soft thighs and even venturing around to the front to cup your sex through your skirt.

You gasped at the sudden touch, pulse pounding as his two fingers skillfully located your slit and began to rub gently through the fabric of your dress.

"Ser" You breathed, trying to organize your thoughts as Jaime pulled your hips back to him, your back flush against his chest, rubbing slow circles through your skirt with the tips of his fingers.

"Just relax, sweetling" He breathed into your ear, "If you get too excited, the horse will sense it. Then we're both in trouble."

"We shouldn't..."

"I don't see you stopping me." He pointed out, hips continuing to brush the length of his cock against your ass. "All I feel is your body heating up against mine. Are you getting excited?"

"Oh Gods." Without thinking, you scrambled off the horse, falling onto your back as you did so.

Jaime laughed out loud, dismounting skillfully and grabbing you by the ankle before you could run for camp.

"Easy, easy girl" He chuckled, batting off you attempts to kick him like they were nothing. "Just calm down."

"The Queen will know." You gasped, heart suddenly pounding. "Her Grace, she trusted me, she's done so much for me, and now I'm here with you and she'll be so angry."

Hot tears began to stream down your face as you began to panic. Jaime paled, not expecting this to go this badly as he attempted to shush your sobs.

"No, no, no, Darling. Just listen, just listen" He tried to grab your attention. "Look, we'll go back to camp. We'll see my sister. Everything will be okay; I swear to you."

Not quite believing him and half convinced your mistress would abandon you here in the wilderness as soon as she heard, you wiped your tears and nodded.

Jaime gathered you in his arms and guided you back to the horse and ferried you both back to the party. He did his best to hide your distress from everyone else as you approached the queen's royal caravan.

"Enter." Cersei turned eagerly as her brother entered, giddy to see how her plan unfolded before her face fell. "What happened?"

Jaime opened his mouth to explain but before he could, you fell to your knees and bowed lowly.

"Your Grace," You sobbed into the ground. "I'm so sorry, I have failed you and betrayed you. I am not worthy of your mercy, but I beg for it all the same."

"I-" Cersei starred at Jaime who shook his head, shrugging in a helpless fashion. "Jaime, what did you do?"

"Exactly what you told me to do, I swear." Jaime insisted,

"Oh" Cersei's mind clicked with understanding and an amused smile crept across her face. "Oh, Y/N. You stupid little thing. Get up."

You obeyed, wiping your tears as the Queen knelt down to look at you.

"Y/N, I sent you out with Jaime *hoping* he would seduce you."

"What?"

"Yes, sweetling." She laughed, "You've been so good for me these last few weeks, and I wanted to reward you. You foolish girl, look at you worked up over nothing. Don't you feel ridiculous?"

You did, ridiculous and embarrassed and ashamed.

"Ser Jaime, I owe you an apology." You couldn't meet his eye, "Her Grace told me to trust you and instead I took you for a villain. Please forgive me?"

"I suppose I can." The knight nodded. "Though you did leave me in quite the uncomfortable position."

"Oh" a blush flooded your face again. "I'm sorry."

"Sweetling" Cersei placed a hand on the top of your head, "You aren't thinking of denying my reward for you, are you?"

"I-" The words caught in your throated. "Your Grace, I-. But-"

"Jaime, come here." Cersei beckoned her brother closer, leaning in to whisper in your ear, "You haven't quite earned the privilege of my bed yet. Treat Ser Jaime as you would me."

Your instructions were clear, and if it pleased your mistress, you were more than happy to comply.

Cersei's nimble hands reached forward to undo the laces of Jaime's trousers, pushing you forward to do the rest as she returned to the chaise with an eager gleam in her eye.

"Have you ever bedded a man before?" Jaime asked and you nodded. It had only been once, but you remembered how everything worked.

Peeling through layers of fabric, you freed the knight's semi-hard cock from his small clothes and scooted closer to him on your knees. A deep rumble of a groan filled the caravan as you took the tip in your mouth, sucking gently before taking more and more length down your throat. Before long, the tip of your nose was buried in the patch of fine blond hair at the base.

"Gods" Jaime breathed, a hand reaching down to grasp at your hair. "Gently, darling gent-" His words caught in his throat as you drew your tongue up the length of him before swiftly taking it whole, gagging slightly to accommodate it. The taste of salty pre-cum coated your taste buds and you hummed with satisfaction.

"That's enough."

You paused your ministrations when your mistress cut in sharply.

"Jaime," she crooned lowly, "Don't be greedy."

Jaime sighed, his brow already shining with perspiration as he withdrew his cock from your throat, a thin strand of saliva hanging from your lips as you gazed up at him.

"The queen is right, sweetling." He sighed, guiding you up by the tip of your chin. "This is supposed to be your reward, not mine."

Eagerly, you allowed him to unlace your bodice and aided him in removing your skirt and small clothes.

"Excited little thing, aren't you?" He chuckled, pulling you in for a deep kiss. His tongue prodded at your lips pleadingly until you parted them, making sure to explore his mouth as much as he did yours. He growled at this, unaccustomed to not being the dominant one, but you responded by sharply nipping his lower lip and grinning. He pulled away with a challenged look, as if calculating his next move.

"Come here" He spat, spinning you around and pulling your back flush against his chest, one hand snaked to your throat as the other danced across your chest. His calloused fingers grazed over your nipples, which responded eagerly as he palmed the softness of your breasts.

"Look" He breathed in your ear, rubbing his hips against your ass as he had in the field. "If you'd been a good girl, we'd have had privacy. Now look at you, about to be fucked in front of your queen."

You moaned at this, biting your lower lip and closing your eyes as he chuckled against your shoulder.

"Or maybe you like this better? Tell me, how long has it been since you've been properly fucked, hm? Years, perhaps?" His hand wondered between your legs once more, locating the sensitive bundle of nerves he knew drove women wild.

"That's right sweet girl," He breathed, firmly pressing his fingers against your clit. Your body tensed and your hips didn't know if they should chase the pleasure of his fingers or flee the intensity of the electricity building between your legs. "Now now, you stay right there."

One hand tweaking your hard nipples and the other pressing your ass against the knight's cock as it circled your clit, you knew you wouldn't last long like this. Your thighs trembled and tried to tighten around his hand, which only made him tease you more.

"Look at this sister, only a few minutes and her body is begging for release. Is that what you want, sweetling? To cum in front of your mistress?"

"Gods, yes! Please, please, please." You begged, skin slick with sweat.

"What a sweet girl, begging so nicely for us." Jaime cooed, sucking on the crook of your neck with a humming laugh. "What do you think, sister?"

You looked up and saw your mistress's face alight with excitement, her own thighs squeezing together as she watched the show her brother put on for her.

"I think....not"

You whined when Jaime all at once withdrew his touch from your body.

"Take her to the bed. I want to watch her cum around you." Cersei requested and Jaime gladly obliged.

"Tell me, sweet sister," Jaime hummed, watching Cersei leave her chaise to meet him at the bed where he deposited your aching, desperate body. "How would you like your little slave fucked?"

"Bend her over" Cersei demanded without hesitation, cupping your face almost gently as Jaime flipped you on your stomach. "I want to watch your face when he fucks you."

Her words drove another spike of need between your legs as Jaime spread your thighs and thrust into your dripping cunt without preamble. The sudden intrusion made you instantly clench around him and claw at the bedding desperately as he drove into you over and over.

"Look at me." Cersei cooed, watching your eyes dart rapidly trying to find her, "Gods, you look so pretty like this. How does he feel inside of you? What I would give to fuck you like this." Her hands petted your hair, damp and clinging to your neck and forehead with sweat. When she spoke to you like this, it was like the whole world melted away and became an extension of her. Even Jaime, especially Jaime, was just an extension of her and her will. She was the one who was fucking you right now, and it was her who made the muscles in your core snap as waves of pleasure washed over you.

When your body began to spasm under him, Jaime could only hold back long enough to pull out as quickly as he possibly could, coating your ass and back with ropes of cum. His weight collapsed on top of you for a moment, both of you breathing heavy. Both of you feeling like you'd been fucked by someone who hadn't even touched you.

Cersei rose up off the bed and tossed a rag at Jaime before leaning over you again, peppering soft kisses over your still sensitive skin.

"Good girl, sweet girl, how wonderful you've been for me." she purred.

#cersei lannister x reader #cersei lannister imagine #jaime lannister imagine #jaime lannister x reader #game of thrones smut #jaime lannister smut #Cersei lannister smut #Her Grace's Handmaiden

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linmeiwei · 3 months

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Do you really think Darcy and Elizabeth would be happy together? It's one thing to not care if an insufferable aunt doesn't like your bride, but it's very different when friends and peers start treating him like an idiot for marrying an unimportant and "tolerable" country girl. Also when he realizes that Georgiana will not be getting the same suitors that he would expect.

That's why I think their marriage is not going to be all that. Don't get me wrong, I don't believe Darcy would start being cruel or disrespectful to Elizabeth like Mr Bennet was to his wife. But to continue happily married? I don't think so.

Oh I strongly disagree! I think Darcy and Elizabeth would be extremely happy in marriage.

As to the social consequences of his marrying a tolerable country girl, I'm not convinced that they would be so dire. The Bennets' ruin was averted through Lydia's marriage, I'm not sure it would be talked about much in the wider world. More to the point, he has a powerful family in whose interest it would be, once the Darcy/Elizabeth marriage happened, to make sure Elizabeth was accepted in all the right circles. They'd likely ensure that Lady C didn't do or say anything to spoil the family's standing. We know from some hints in the novel itself that, once push comes to shove, even those who don't like Elizabeth and may know something of the Wickham fiasco, are too afraid to lose the privilege of friendship with Darcy to continue being a nuisance about it (e.g. Caroline Bingley).

We also know that Elizabeth isn't really only tolerable. She's charming, attractive and clever. I genuinely think that she'd actually make quite a hit once let loose in Darcy's world.

Finally, there's Darcy himself. I'm conscious that people interpret his character very differently to me (e.g. they think he's shy or anxious or on the spectrum) so this is very much my interpretation but… going by some of the descriptions we have of his character, he just doesn't seem like the sort of guy to let himself be swayed much by popular opinion. E.g. in this bit, which takes place in Netherfield, when Darcy and Bingley discuss each other's character traits (paraphrasing):

Darcy: When you told Mrs. Bennet this morning, that if you ever resolved on quitting Netherfield you should be gone in five minutes, you meant it to be a sort of panegyric, of compliment to yourself […] but I am by no means convinced that you would be gone with such celerity. Your conduct would be quite as dependent on chance as that of any man I know; and if, as you were mounting your horse, a friend were to say, ‘Bingley, you had better stay till next week,’ you would probably do it—you would probably not go—and, at another word, might stay a month.

Elizabeth: You have only proved by this that Mr. Bingley did not do justice to his own disposition. You have shown him off now much more than he did himself.

Bingley: I am afraid you are giving it a turn which that gentleman did by no means intend; for he would certainly think the better of me if, under such a circumstance, I were to give a flat denial, and ride off as fast as I could.

In another conversation, he says himself that "[his] feelings are not puffed about with every attempt to move them."

He's just not a volatile sort of guy. He knows his own mind, he knows Elizabeth's merits, and (for all his faults) he's the sort of strong type A that would see it as his responsibiltiy to captain his ship out of any storm rather than abandon it or feel annoyed with it for having got into a storm.

I honestly struggle trying to imagine any set of events that would be at all likely, in which these two were anything other than deeply in love, delighted in each other’s company and devoted to one another.

#jane austen #pride and prejudice #mr darcy #elizabeth bennet

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ohbo-ohno · 6 months

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for ypur 1k game can i get a "lady of the house" + ghoap💋

1k game here - no more please!

you said lady so im assuming you meant ghoap x reader <3

2.5k of a kinda historical au ft. flirty stablehand johnny x kinda shy reader x very horny simon (cw for oral sex in a public place, though there's no audience except a few horses)

Your husband's staff seems to have no concept of propriety.

No, no, that's not fair to most of the servants. Your husband's stablehand has no concept of propriety.

You'd complain to Simon, but he's hardly around to find most days. While the two of you share a bedchamber, that's nearly the only time you see him. You're lucky to even share a meal with the man, these days. The housekeeper tells you he's holed up in his office more often than not, and that feels like a clear sign that he would rather not be bothered. You two aren't particularly close, so you're more than content to find other ways of amusing yourself.

You've spent most of your time since moving into the manor with your mare, a gift from husband on your wedding night. She's a lovely beast and you've found great joys on long rides with her, despite the persistent ache in your thighs recently.

But that stablehand... Johnny's too handsome for his own good and he knows it, more than willing to flirt with you even though his own master has a claim, and too skilled for you to really ignore.

You hate that you've become so endeared to him, but it's impossible to ignore his flirtatious remarks. You've been a bit starved for affection since your marriage, and Johnny really isn't bad company by any means.

In fact, as much as you know you shouldn't, you can't help but feel a bit excited as you venture down to the stables to go on your daily ride.

You're halfway there when you're joined by someone new, a large figure suddenly walking shoulder to shoulder with you. He nearly makes you jump out of you skin, but you calm a bit at the sight of your elusive husband.

"Oh!" You gasp, pressing a hand over your chest. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

He inclines his head a bit, wrapping one hand around your elbow as you continue to walk. "My apologies. I thought I might join you on your ride today."

You're not sure how he knew where you'd be, but you take the new company in stride. "I'd enjoy that."

You're silent for the rest of the walk, not entirely comfortable in this veritable stranger's presence quite yet. Your spouse is an intimidating man, and you've hardly spent any time with him, so there's very little comfort to be found in his presence. What little time you have spent together has been in the bedroom and well... if you think of that for too long you'll go red in the face.

"Ah, the lady of the house!" Johnny calls as you enter the stables, stepping away from your mare. "You're late, my lady."

You giggle a bit at his tease. "My apologies, Johnny, I didn't realize you were on a schedule."

His smile grows and he leans against the gate to one of the stalls. "I simply have certain expectations of you, my lady - you're quite the creature of habit."

"You two have gotten close, then?" Your husband asks, and you're swiftly reminded of his presence. Your face flames at how easily you'd shown your friendship with Johnny off in front of a man you're meant to marry.

"I'm sorry," you demure, glancing up at Simon and feeling relief when you find him looking merely curious, not angry. "Johnny's- Mr. MacTavish has been helping me learn to take care of the mare you gifted me, and we've... developed a bit of a friendship in our afternoons spent together."

Simon hums, nodding to himself as his eyes flick between you and the stablehand. The only sign that Johnny is even the slightest bit fazed is the way he straightens up from where he was leaning, back straight and shoulders rolled back.

"No disrespect meant, sir," he apologizes. "Your wife is a lovely creature, I couldn't resist getting to know her a bit better."

"Yes, she is quite enchanting," Simon says quietly, guiding you a bit closer to Johnny. "You're unmarried, aren't you Johnny?"

He nods, and the two of you share a slightly confused look.

"And do you have any prospects?"

Johnny clears his throat, a tinge of red lighting up his cheeks. "No, sir."

Simon hums again, his thumb stroking over the crook of your elbow.

"Have you been taking care of my wife in my absence, Johnny?"

Now he really does blush, and you feel the same heat race through your own face.

"Only..." he clears his throat again, shifting his weight. "Only in ways entirely appropriate, sir, I promise."

"Oh, I don't doubt that. You're a good worker, a good boy, I can tell."

You're not entirely sure what's going on. The tone of voice Simon has adopted is near salacious, a tone you recognize from the few times the two of you have preformed your marital duties together. The tone sets your heart racing, a slightly uncomfortable awareness settling over you.

"Thank- thank you, sir."

"Do you know how to properly take care of a woman?"

"Simon, I'm not sure-" you try to interrupt, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation seemed to be heading.

"Hush, darling, I'm only asking the boy a question. Well, Johnny?"

Poor Johnny's face is as red as a tomato, and you'd tease him if you weren't sure you looked the same.

"Well, sir, I've... I've never had a woman of my own to take care of, but I try my best."

"Oh I'm sure you do."

Simon's contemplative look is a little concerning, so you tug on his hand just a bit. "I'd like to ride today, Simon, if you're ready?"

"In a moment," he dismisses, giving you a soft pat on the shoulder with his free hand. "Would you like to learn how to take care of a woman, Johnny?"

"Simon," you hiss, sure that he's not implying what you think he is.

He looks down at you with an innocent if slightly confused face. "What, darling? The boy needs to learn at some point."

"Not-" you clear your throat, glancing at a very confused looking Johnny from the corner of your eye. "Simon, not here."

"Oh, come off it," he scoffs, a soft smile tilting up his lips. "Is that truly your only complaint? The location? My dear, no one will see us this far out but the trees and the horses. Well," he glances over to the stablehand. "And our Johnny, of course."

"I'm sure he's familiar with how to... take care of a woman."

"I'm not," Johnny blurts, then clamps his lips shut tightly together. His blush spreads down to his neck, and you worry the poor thing might just explode.

"See? So, Johnny, would you like to learn how to care for a woman? I'm sure my lovely wife would be more than happy to introduce you to the pleasures."

Your blush doesn't calm, but looking at Johnny... the idea isn't entirely off-putting.

Johnny's about as handsome as a man can be, and if Simon has no compunctions to sharing a bit of your pleasure... well, you've always been a bit of a glutton.

Johnny seems about as unbothered by the idea as you are.

"Really, sir? You'd let me... you'd let her teach me?"

Simon laughs a little, stepping closer to Johnny and turning you so you're shoulder to shoulder with him. "Oh, I'll be doing the teaching, boy. She's just out practice doll, yes?"

That makes your breath hitch, the idea of being just a thing between the two handsome men a bit more pleasing than it should be.

"Now," Simon says, gripping you suddenly by the waist and lifting without warning. He sets you onto a wooden table, then spreads your legs. "Women's clothing can be quite annoying to work around, but the end result is more than worth it. Hold your skirts for us, love, thattagirl."

You're silent as you take the layers of clothing from your husband, afraid that if you speak you'll simply burst into flames. Exposing yourself to a man like this is difficult enough in the dark of your bedchamber, it feels near impossible in front of Johnny and in broad daylight.

But you can feel the way your center grows slick, so you obey your husband.

"Now, Johnny, kneel here, in front of me."

Johnny nearly scrambles to where Simon gestures, almost throwing himself to his knees in front of you. He's left between your thighs and Simon's legs, your husband almost stradling his back.

Simon laughs a bit. "Eager, are we?"

"Yes- yes, sir." Johnny pants a bit, staring up at you from the floor. He can't seem to decide whether he'd like to look at your undergarments or your face, eyes flicking between the two.

"Good lad," Simon brushes a hand over the back of Johnny's head, palming it. "Now, you'll have to take off her undergarments before anything else."

You shift a little in your spot as Johnny reaches up tentatively, eyebrows slightly furrowed. His hands brush over your bottom half for several long seconds, and you start to shift a little more, near whining.

"Hurry now, Johnny, you'll drive the poor thing mad."

He adopts an almost determined expression, and a moment later you hear a rip and feel a breeze against your most sensitive parts.

"Johnny!" You scold, leaning far enough forward to glare down at the man.

He flinches a little, sinking away. "I'm sorry, my lady. I didn't know how else to get them off!"

"You never destroy a woman's clothing like that! You're not off to a very good start so far."

You regret the words a bit when Johnny's face drops, his lip poking out in a slight pout.

Simon laughs, shifting to rub a hand over your bared knee. "Let up on him, darling, he's inexperienced. Besides, it's rather easy to make up for a few ripped seams."

You glare lightly at Simon, just to make sure he knows you're unamused, then lean back to relax against the wall. "Well, then you'd better get started."

Johnny looks up at Simon, neck craning back. "How...?"

Another rough chuckle from your husband, and he shoves Johnny forward by the back of the head until his face is buried between your thighs.

"Oh!" You yelp.

"With your mouth, Johnny. Trust me, it's far easier to learn to use your tongue like this than it is to learn how a lady likes her apologies."

You shoot an unimpressed look up to Simon, but it quickly melts off your face when you feel Johnny's lips and nose press to your center. He doesn't really do anything, just sort of stays there.

You shift again, try to press forward.

"Lick her, Johnny," Simon explains, putting a bit more pressure on the back of the stablehand's head. A moment later, there's a tentative brush across your folds.

You jolt a bit at the first tough, then relax into the second. Johnny's clumsy but confident, and you spread your legs a bit wider so he can fully explore you.

"Lift your skirts a bit further, love, I can't see," Simon instructs, leaning over so he's hovering directly above Johnny. You obey, and your husband hums as the view.

"Do you see the little bud at the top there, Johnny? Focus in on that, it's what gives women pleasure."

Johnny's evidently a quick study, as he focuses his attentions onto your clitoris as soon as the instructions are out of Simon's mouth. "Oh!" You gasp, back shooting up from the wall.

It takes him several long minutes to figure out what keeps you moaning in pleasure rather than whining in frustration, but once he does he keeps his tongue stroking in just the right way to make you go boneless.

"Attaboy, there you go," Ghost praises, stroking over the stripe of hair on Johnny's head. "Hear her moanin'? That means you're making' her feel good, so keep going."

He's a good listener, Johnny, and you're nearly brought to a peak with just his tongue alone.

"Add a finger now," Simon says.

Johnny pulls back just far enough for you to see his confusion. "A finger, sir?"

Simon huffs out a laugh, reaching down to grab Johnny's right wrist and pull it to your bared core. "Yes, Johnny, a finger. You put one or two into her hole to stretch her out enough to take you. Now, you won't be fucking my wife today, but the stretch will still feel good for her."

The way he talks about you like you're not even there combined with the sudden slow stretch of Johnny's fingers has you moaning. If you were even slightly more aware of anything but the two men in front of you, you'd worry about being heard. As it is, the attention returning to your clit keeps you suitably distracted.

Simon scoffs in front of you, tugging Johnny's hair a bit in reprimand. "You have to move the finger, boy, you can't just set it in there and do nothing. C'mon, push it in and out a bit."

"Yes, sir," Johnny pants, glancing up at you past all the skirts. "Sorry, my lady."

"That's- that's alright," you excuse, trying to keep your voice steady. Judging by the smirk on your husband's face, you're not particularly successful.

You let yourself float off in the pleasure for a bit, smiling gently at the cautious movements of Johnny's finger - he almost seems scared to hurt you, and you can't help but be endeared to the stablehand all over again.

"Look at that," Simon sighs, his hand moving further up on your thigh. "Hear how wet she is? Means she's ready for another finger. Go on, Johnny. Stretch her out some more."

The two fingers are enough to get you off - all that attention focused right on your clit and just enough of a stretch for you to feel. You come with quiet moans, shifting your hips forward into Johnny's lips as much as you can.

He doesn't slow or change his motions at all, and you ride the orgasm to completion happily. After, though, you can't help but whine at the overstiumlation.

"Alright, pull off now, Johnny. You hear those noises? Those mean she doesn't feel good anymore."

Johnny almost jerks away from you, glancing up at you with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, my lady," he quickly apologizes, rising up on his knees to get closer as you drop your skirts. "I didn't meant to hurt you."

You smile softly at him, reaching down to cup his cheek. "You didn't, Johnny, it's alright. Just a bit too much."

He nods as he leans into your hold, and the three of you rest in silence for a few moments.

Eventually Simon tugs you off of the table, pulling both you and Johnny into his arms for a half-hug. It's nice - your husband isn't too much of a fan of physical contact, so you relish in it when you can.

Johnny coughs a bit with a blush when you all three finally seperate. "So... when's my next lesson?"

You smirk as you loop arms with Simon, both of you sharing an amused glance.

"Come to our chambers anytime, Johnny," you offer, patting him on the chest before stepping away. "I'm sure my husband wouldn't mind giving a longer demonstration on how to fully pleasure a woman."

You leave a red-faced Johnny in the stables with tented pants, both you and Simon chuckling to yourselves as you head back to the manor.

#first draft: you and your new husband johnny move into a house that turns out to be haunted. good news is the ghost seems to like you both #< aka pervy simon and very confused soap & reader #which is a cooler (more creative) idea than this but feels like it could be like 5k #and im trying to get better at writing shorter things lol #bo writes #ghoap x reader #1k celebration #i am so fucking sleepy #also sorry for the kinda wishy washy characterization here i wrote this across a 12 hour period between writing other things

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princeasimdiya12 · 1 month

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Bucchigiri Utena Parallel-Wannabe Heroes and the Illusion of Fairy Tales

Apart from the NNL segments, I've also had some thoughts on the Bucchigiri storyline and it's parallels to the themes of Revolutionary Girl Utena. And this time my focus as been on Matakara, who has often been hailed as being the true protagonist and hero of the story because of his honorable, kind-hearted and proactive qualities. Much like Utena herself.

And like Utena, the two share a somber backstory where they held on to fairy tale beliefs to help them overcome their hardships and grow into the heroic figures they wish to be. But what they don't know is that they naively followed these tales without realizing the misinterpretations of those beliefs that have been passed down for generations and would soon become victims of the fairy tale figures that once inspired them.

But before I can delve into that story, we need to talk about this story.

Note: This post will contain MAJOR SPOILERS from the Revolutionary Girl Utena anime. If you still haven't watched it and want to be unspoiled, then please refrain from reading this until you've seen it. If that doesn't bother you, then go on ahead. Also, I would strongly recommend speaking with a friend or a reliable user about the dark and trigger-worthy content featured in Utena before watching. It's a great show but it does get DARK.

Also, there's another user who's planning on making an analysis post comparing Matakara and Anthy Himemiya so keep an eye out for that if you're interested in more Bucchigiri-Utena parallels.

Part 1: Origins of an Orphan

To start, Matakara's backstory and his idolization of Arajin has multiple similarities to Utena's backstory. For the purpose of this section, I'll be using the version that was shown to us in Episode 1 and not the true version.

"Once upon a time, many years ago, there was a little princess and she was very sad. For her mother and father have died."

The first piece of info that Utena gives us is that she was an orphan and was in despair because of her parents' deaths. Though Matakara's own parents haven't been brought up nor has it been explained what became of them, it's clear that he lost them at an early age. And while he did have his older brother and his presumed relatives to watch over him, this did very little in helping Matakara overcome his grief or escape the shadows that haunted him since he was little.

"Before the princess appeared a traveling prince riding upon a white horse. He had a regal bearing and a kind smile. The prince wrapped the princess in a rose-scented embrace and gently wiped the tears from her eyes."

While lacking the regal bearing and white horse, Arajin was the traveling prince who came into Matakara's life and inspired hope and light within him. As shown in their flashbacks, he was always a friendly and cheerful boy who radiated confidence and spirit. A true hero that Matakara could look up to and help him overcome his sorrow.

"Little one, he said, growing up alone in such deep sorrow, never lose that strength and nobility. Even when you are a young lady. I give you this to remember this day, we will meet again. This ring will lead you to me one day."

The crux of Matakara and Arajin's friendship was their desire to train and grow into becoming true Honki people. Warriors with strong hearts and did not flee from battle. Arajin genuinely saw that Matakara had that potential and encouraged him to train alongside him.

And what's more noteworthy is that the two are given a token to immortalize the moment. Utena is given a rose ring to remember the prince and her own nobility while Matakara is given a friendship stone to remember their bond as future Honki People. Even as their fated princes leave, the two heroes carry those precious tokens well into their adolescence years, never forgetting their mission of becoming the people they want to be.

It could also be argued that Mitsukuni, his older brother, could qualify as the prince in this scenario as he inspired him to stay strong in the face of adversity. Such as in Episode 8 where he explained the creed of the Honki and how he inspired his little brother to be brave like them. He even brings up their creed to Matakara just before he's hauled away to the big house.

"Perhaps the ring the prince gave her was an engagement ring. This was all well and good but so impressed was she by him that that the princess vowed to become a prince herself one day."

So the cherished prince rides off into the world leaving Utena alone, much like Arajin and even Mitsukuni would leave Matakara alone because of their respective issues. But rather then succumbing to despair, the two heroes resolved to maintain the noble spirit that those heroic figures saw in them. Utena went on to become a prince herself while Matakara would become someone worthy of being a Honki person. Though Matakara struggled more on his journey given how he threw himself into bloody battles while being alone, he would eventually be adopted into the Minato Kai Gang and become closer on his path to becoming a Honki person.

And just before we can go straight to Utena's story in the present, the fairy tale closes with a question to the viewer.

"But was that really such a good idea?"

For first time viewers, it's easy to interpret this question about Utena, a girl, becoming a prince since it defies traditional gender roles and what is expected in classic fairy tales. But as the RGU story progresses, we see that the concern comes not from a girl becoming a prince but more on the problems that come with being one.

Two in particular stand out. The first is that men who become princes usually use those roles for the sake of superiority and having control over women. They lack the nobility a true prince should have and relish in the title because of it's power and privileges. The second problem, and the one that this analysis post will focus on, is how princes who live up to those roles are exploited by the people they try to protect.

Part 2: The Truth That is Twisted by Time

All fairy tales, legends, myths and stories which have been passed from one generation to the next. And as the years go by, those stories are often subject to adaptations based on the preferences of the storyteller or how society uses those tales to explain their respective beliefs. A common criticism is how most fairy tales have more imaginative elements in play and avoid the grittier elements that the tale originally used (Ex. Cinderella got her dresses from a tree instead of a fairy godmother and her stepsisters chopped off parts of their feet to get the slipper to fit, Aladdin used African slaves as part of his prince con).

And we see those changes in adaptations in the fairy tales Utena showcased that omit or warp the truth to the ones who hear of them.

Such as in Utena's origins, we're told that it was only a prince who inspired her to become one so she can reunite with him one day. But the truth was that her decision was because she met Anthy who was suffering from the hatred of humanity. And the only way to rescue her was to turn into a prince whom she could believe in.

We also see a new adaptation in the backstory of Anthy and Akio which is now known to the world as The Tale of the Rose. The world remembers their story involving a powerful and perfect prince who was stolen from them by his sister who turned into a wicked witch out of jealousy. But the truth was that Anthy sealed him away not out of spite but out of love and concern as her brother was being exploited and over exhausted by a massive, unsatisfied world who overly-depended on him.

So as Utena demonstrates, the fairy tales we start out learning about aren't exactly as true as their origins demonstrate. They often omit or do away with the more tragic and gray aspects of the characters in those stories. This is all well and good, but what does that say about the Honki People?

Right in Episode 1, we're told that they're courageous and valiant fighters who train nonstop and pour their heart and soul into battle. Despite being brushed off as a simple old story in the present day, their legends and battles prove worthy enough of recognition. They have a temple in their honor, Arajin and Mataraka trained to become like them, and even the city is named after them. The narrative does a decent job in explaining the concept of the Honki People, but what about the people that inspired those legends?

As we see in Episode 9, we learn that Senya and Ichiya actually started out as ordinary humans who dedicated their lives to training and fighting one another, hoping to become a true Honki Person. It's stated that Ichiya was training himself to be a Honki Person so the legend was already around when the two of them were only boys growing up in a Middle Eastern town. And fitting the Aladdin parallels, Senya started out as a simple street rat with no family or home to call his own. And after meeting someone as cool, powerful and inspiring as Ichiya, he decided to spend his life alongside someone he could call his friend.

A rather somber element is that while the whole world grew up learning and embracing the Legend of the Honki, none of them actually knew who those Honki People were or what their past lives were like. Would it even matter to them how they started as humble street urchins with no family or home to call their own? They knew what they turned into, but they never stop to think about who these legends started out as or what their backstories or even their names are.

But what's more tragic is what became of Ichiya, the one who inspired Senya. Though we still don't know the exact details for what Senya did that tarnished their friendship, it ultimately impacted his best friend for the worst, corrupting his heart and letting him be filled with hatred and contempt. He no longer valued friendship like he did when he was human and views it as a weakness that must be purged. Perhaps becoming a true Honki Person wasn't all it's cracked up to be given how they're bound to pistols and made to serve whoever finds him for thousands of years.

It's akin to the Rose Prince who's powers were sealed away by Anthy in a desperate act of love leaving him unable to save the world like he used to. Only because of his powerless state did the Prince lose his heart and became a cruel, manipulative and spiteful monster who longed to reclaim what once belonged to him. He would even resort to inflicting every form of abuse imaginable onto his sister as "punishment" for what she did to him. (And yes I do mean every form so please keep that in mind if you haven't seen Utena yet!)

The hero who was glorified and admired in their respective tales loses their nobility in real life, allowing themselves to be corrupted and be filled with new desires of revenge and power. Transforming into the opposite of what they represented in the generations that told their stories. Simply put, they become a villain.

A villain who is...

Part 3: The Virtuous Victim Turned Vile Villain

Bucchigiri and Revolutionary Girl Utena are shows that share the themes of fairy tales while deconstructing and subverting tropes associated with them. One of which that the two share is playing on the idea of a heroic or fairy tale archetype (the genie and the prince) becoming the villain of their respective shows. It's even more ironic that the true heroes of those series would start out being inspired by adaptations of them that portrayed them in a positive light only for to fall prey to their schemes when they meet them in real life. Bucchigiri has Ichiya, a true Honki Person that Matakara heavily looked up to, and Utena has Akio, the Fallen Prince Dios who led the sad princess on the path to becoming a noble prince.

Each of them started out as the ideal fairy tale figure that helped the heroes when they were only children who confronted sadness and loneliness at a young age. But now that they're older and are meeting with them, they end up falling victims to the fairy tales they initially admired and tried to become. And neither of them realize that they're being used as it happens.

Ichiya's goal is ultimately to merge with Matakara to take over his body and exact his revenge on Senya. As to what Ichiya's motives are after taking his revenge aren't clear, but what is clear is that Matakara will lose himself after being completely possessed. And because Matakara is suffering through his feelings of loneliness and his childhood friend's true nature, he doesn't even notice how Ichiya is manipulating him to improve the merge rate.

Akio's goal has been to groom Utena into producing a noble heart that can help him reclaim his original powers, even leading her in an intimate relationship to further manipulate her. Should he succeed, then he'll discard Utena and move with his life as Prince Dios once again. If not, then he'll discard her and find another person to groom. And Utena doesn't realize this as she's led to believe that he's the prince who once saved her from despair and she'll get the happily ever after she believed will make her content.

The scary part about this, is that they're not the first victims to fall prey to their wicked schemes.

Though it hasn't been confirmed on Ichiya's side, it's heavily implied that he's bonded with other people who found his magic pistol before taking full possession of them. Given how he's lived for thousands of years and initially resided in a public Honki temple, there's no way he would have not been found by some unlucky sap. His common knowledge of possession would suggest he's done this before and has seen the unfortunate results of the person he takes control of, which he mentions to Akutaro.

As for Akio, he also has lived for thousands of years and organized constant Rose Duels in the vain hope of choosing one lucky winner to steal their heart so he can break. Using his sister as a prize to be one, there have been countless tournaments held with the hopes of finding the right target that can help him regain his powers from the Rose Gate.

Alas, neither villain was successful with their attempts given that they've turned their sights on the new generation of heroes to continue their cursed wishes that have lasted for centuries.

And speaking of wishes, remember how I brought up in Part 2 how fairy tales were much darker compared to the more enchanting stories we grew up with?

Well thanks to a peculiar finding by @mahoromouse, I came to realize something about Ichiya and possibly Honki people in general. They're not even genies, they're djinn.

Contrary to the Western media's adaptation of genies as whimsical, playful, wish granting spirits who are voiced by beloved comedians, djinn were actually neutral spirits who were born from fire and were able to wander the Earth like humans do. That said, there are some djinn who grow stronger when interacting with negative emotions found in a human being. It's even said that they can inspire greater levels of negative emotions in a human that they target. Much like how Ichiya is cultivating Mataraka's anger towards Arajin and his fears of the shadows that haunt him.

And how fitting it is that from the moment Senya was introduced to us, Arajin and the audience interpreted him as a genie. Especially given that Senya even offers him a wish while proclaiming that "Honki" can also be spelled to make "Majin" 魔ま人 which in Japanese means "demon person" or "magical person". But have we actually seen Senya grant Arajin's wish of losing his virginity? While he does help the boy in getting stronger and boosting his image as a man, that doesn't mean it's gotten him very close to losing his virginity (thank goodness). And it can be inferred that Ichiya never granted Akutaro's wish despite having stayed by his side during his reign as the NG Emperor.

Given how the Western's portrayal of genies have been popularized and glamorized for years, we have easily forgotten the true origins of genies or djinn and the grittier aspects associated with their backstories.

Conclusions

The theme that the two shows share is how a child who was in a dark moment in their life was inspired by a fairy tale to help them find the light. And so touched were they by the heroes in the stories that they decided to become just like them. But as their respective shows demonstrated, that wasn't a very good idea. The Prince and the Honki Person they once admired turned out to be monsters who resolved to exploit them and reclaim something that was lost to them many years ago. And because they grew up with the romanticized and ideal versions of their idols, they never realized the truth about them which was lost in time mixed with ongoing adaptations that omitted their pasts making them more acceptable to the world.

As for whether Matakara will be saved from Ichiya's corruption while still gaining a heart that does not flee, I cannot say. But as it stands, it looks like Arajin will need to be the one to come in and save the boy he once inspired and who still holds dearly in his heart. And just like I mentioned in my last NNL segment, maybe their friendship won't be the same anymore despite defeating Ichiya. Maybe Matakara will still harbor negative feelings to his friend for how he was mistreated and abandoned for so many years. But much like how Utena ended on a hopeful ending, I believe the same thing can happen in Bucchigiri.

And those are my thoughts on the matter. It's been a great while since I wrote an analysis post this big so thank you if you committed to reading all of this. So what do you think of these themes? If you agree or disagree with anything I've written, please feel free to reblog and/or comment with your own ideas. Thank you and may you have a great day/night!

#bucchigiri #bucchigiri?!#revolutionary girl utena #rgu spoilers #matakara asamine #utena tenjou #arajin tomoshibi #mitsukuni asamine #ichiya #senya #akio ohtori #anthy himemiya #fairy tales #analysis #eddy's post #loving these parallels #anime #long post

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forgeofthenine · 4 months

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So let’s say the three tiefling bachelors s/o is a Drakewarden ranger and the Drake has taken a liking to them. What sort of shenanigans would the Drake and the bachelor tieflings get into? (My own head cannon is that the drake acts like a giant cat and doesn’t realize it’s too big for lap time now)

This was a fun little prompt to write, I just love these guys with various little pets tbh. Enjoy everyone, and expect some more headcanons tomorrow :)

The bachelors with their partners drake companion

Dammon

Dammon and the drake got on like a house on fire

He's the type of guy that every animal he meets just loves him, you know the type

As soon as you introduce the two Dammon is already treating the person sized, red drake as if it's his new puppy

You'll see him scratching it's chin or sneaking it food scraps from the table

It's hard keeping an eye on them both to make sure he isn't instilling any bad habits into your companion

After you've been out with your drake for the day you'll find it eagerly scrambles up the stairs to reach Dammons forge

Sometimes you even dare to think that Dammon might be more excited to see the drake than he is to see you

The both of them have their tails wagging in excitement at the reunion, and it would be endearing if your drake didn't knock over your lovers work equipment

These two can often be found snuggling on the couch, your drake dwarfing Dammon as he calls you over to join them

Zevlor

Zevlor is slightly unsure of your drake at first

It's a silver beast that towers over anyone, himself included, and he feels justified keeping it at arms length

He watches as the beast snuggles with you or happily letting you ride it's back as if it were a horse, and he starts to realise it isn't so bad

It's a slow process of getting them used to each other, your drake a bit too forward and Zevlor a bit overly cautious

You start with having Zevlor feeding your companion various treats, first having him throw them and working him up to hand feeding

Once he's a bit more comfortable the two actually get on quite well

If you're hanging around the house or otherwise occupied, you'll often find your drake trailing around behind Zevlor as he goes about his duties

The drake is quite the good helper, carrying buckets and equipment from place to place as Zevlor cares for all your other animals

Despite a slightly rocky start, the two end up being quite close friends

Rolan

Rolan and the drake have the worst start of the lot

He's very grumpy about having a 'big, bumbling beast' in his tower, but he bites his tongue because he loves you

The two generally try to avoid each other as much as possible to start with, they much prefer trying to find one on one time with you

Until you leave them both home alone one day

You get back to them having a truce and a budding friendship and neither will give you a clue how it happened

Rolan definitely takes advantage of having a new purple drake friend, afterall they're both scarier when together

He also thinks he's sneaky when he gives it quick forehead kisses if the drake is pouting and you look away

Definitely puts on a magic show or two for it if you leave the room entirely, he's always happy to show off to an adoring audience

And the best part is Rolan doesn't mind now every time your drake clambers onto the couch with you both and completely takes over any available lap space

#bri answers #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #baldurs gate 3 zevlor #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #baldurs gate 3 rolan #bg3 rolan #rolan x reader

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whitedarkmoonflower · 9 months

Text

Kidnapped Part 3

Sihtric x reader

Authors note: third and final part of the requested fic about Sihtric’s wife being kidnapped by Heasten while expecting a child. My warmest thanks for requesting this. I genuinely enjoyed writing it and I hope very much that you will like it.

Warnings: angst, despair and losing hope mixed with a great portion of heart-warming fluff

Word Count: 4,119

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @namelesslosers

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“Heastens camp is located at Beamfleot, near the river. He has amassed some ten ships there, and they are preparing to march," Rypere continued his account once the commotions after the fuss regarding Sihtric’s family news and him being a father of two children had calmed down. Sihtric sat at the table, his face wearing a dreamy expression as he got lost in his thoughts.

“Our plan remains unchanged, but we must act swiftly. I expect all of you to gather in the tavern for the next three days, pretending to be drunk and spreading the word to anyone who will listen that Edward, under pressure from his mother and the bishop, has once again banished me. Spread the news that I have grown weary of the Wessex kings' ingratitude, and we are setting off for Northumbria to reclaim Bebbanburg," Uhtred responded.

"Sihtric! Hey, Sihtric! Are you listening to me?" Uhtred's voice jolted Sihtric from his reverie, and he looked up in surprise at his Lord.

“Yes, Lord! No, Lord! What did you say?” Sihtric stammered.

"You will be pretending to be drunk," Uhtred emphasized the word 'pretending' unmistakably. "Is that clear? Finan, Osferth, keep a close eye on our newmade father." Sihtric blushed in embarrassment but did not protest.

Everybody stood up and started leaving the hall.

“Sihtric,” Uhtred called his friend to stay behind, “Your mind is filled with myriad thoughts, I can see it. Sihtric, no reckless rescue ideas on your own. If I were you, the first thing I would want to do after leaving this room is to run to the horses and ride to her. Don’t do that! Stick to the plan!”

Sihtric looked up at Uhtred surprise evident in his eyes at how well he understood the wild turmoil of emotions consuming him, and simply nodded in agreement.

The next two days were an agonizing torment, the hardest Sihtric had ever faced. The weight of uncertainty had already been unbearable while waiting in Winchester, but now, knowing your location and that you had given birth to his children only to be left alone in a Danish camp, it was as if his heart had been torn apart, leaving him on the brink of losing all composure. He tried to hold on, to stay strong for the plan they had painstakingly crafted and discussed with Uhtred countless times, but the agony of fear of what might be happening to you were almost overwhelming.

The nights were the cruellest as he lay in bed, restlessly tossing and turning, dreading to fall asleep. While awake, he managed, with enormous effort of will, to keep his emotions and anxiety under control, but he couldn't control his dreams. Each time he closed his eyes and sleep finally overtook him, he was haunted by the same dreadful dream. In the dream, he was always searching for you amidst the ruins of a devastated and half-burned camp. Torn tents and overthrown wagons surrounded him. Among the debris and lifeless bodies, he called out your name in despair, but there was no answer—only silence and the suffocating realization that he had come too late, that he had failed to reach you in time. The weight of his failure and helplessness consumed him, and he would wake up a scream clawing its way from his throat, his heart pounding in his chest, and his forehead drenched in sweat.

Sihtric was a warrior and no stranger to death. He had faced it time and again on the battlefield. He had killed men, seen the life drain from their eyes, and heard the chilling sounds of war echoing in his mind. He had endured nightmares, especially after the battles, when the sounds of swords and axes clashing, the battering of shields, and the cries of the wounded still echoed in his mind. Yet, nothing had ever filled him with such deep fear and despair as this. The pain of not knowing your fate, the torment of feeling powerless to protect you, this was an anguish unlike any other. It filled him with a sense of angst and despair that cut deeper than any blade ever could.

Finally, the day of departure came. Uhtred had gathered all his men in the bustling marketplace, strategically choosing this location so that as many people as possible could witness them leaving. He hoped that among the curious crowd there might be spies from Heasten’s camp who would deliver a message confirming that they were leaving Winchester and Wessex. Uhtred casted a worried glance at Sihtric, who sat in the saddle with a pale and tense face, dark rings around his eyes. He knew Sihtric was keeping himself up in the saddle with the last remnants of his strength. Finan and Osfert had positioned their horses on both sides of their friend ready to offer support and keep their fiend steady. And so, they set off.

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The camp had suddenly erupted into a state of frenzy, resembling a startled anthill. There was a palpable anxiety in the air, but no one bothered to inform you of what was happening. Preoccupied with your two babies, you had resigned yourself to the fate of being a prisoner. Escape had never been an option, not when you were pregnant, and certainly not now with two infants in your arms. You had your children; they were healthy and strong, and this was all that mattered at the moment. There was nothing more important than to take care of them and wait for Sihtric to find you. That was something you never once doubted. You firmly believed that nothing in the world could prevent your husband from finding you. So, you waited.

“There she is. Not the youngest anymore, but still pretty. She was a whore. Must have been a damn good one, as one of her clients married her,” the tent flaps were suddenly thrust open, and there stood Heasten, accompanied by another man.

“I don’t want money for the pups, consider them as a bonus. You can never know whether they will survive,” he continued, and your eyes grew wide as you suddenly understood what was going on.

“You, heartless bastard! You are not selling me!” you shouted at him, your voice filled with a potent mix of fury and fear.

“Of course, I am. What did you think?” Heasten callously replied, “We are marching to battle, and you are nothing but a burden. I would have sold you before, but no one is willing to pay for a slave who might die in childbirth within a couple of weeks,” Heasten’s narrow eyes gleamed with malicious light while his words only fuelled your desperation, and in a moment of rage, you lunged at him, attempting to scratch out his eyes with your nails. However, Heasten effortlessly overpowered you, seizing both your hands and ruthlessly throwing you to the ground.

“Look at the little bitch, how strong and fierce she is. She will last long,” he taunted, addressing the other man and pointing his finger at you, lying on the ground, suffocating with tears.

“Please don’t do it!” you begged, tiers rolling down your cheeks. “I am begging you, please have mercy. You don’t have to take us with you. Just leave us here in the woods.”

“And lose silver this man is ready to pay for you?” Heasten smirked, turning away. Both men left your tent, leaving you crying on the ground. A suffocating mix of helplessness, anger and fear overwhelmed you, curling in your stomach and spreading throughout your body. Your hands trembled as you pulled your hair and screamed, releasing all your despair. “Sihtric,” you whimpered through your sobs, “Where are you? Why haven’t you found us?”

A terrifying thought washed over you instantly. “Is he still alive?” You had never doubted it for a single moment before. You were so certain that nothing would prevent your husband from finding and rescuing you, whatever the cost, except for one single thing - his own death. The horrifying feeling that had found its way into your heart grew stronger with each moment you dwelled on it. More than half a year had passed since you last heard from Sihtric before you left to visit your sister, and another two months had gone by in Heasten's camp. What if you were never to see him again? What if the only person in this lonely world whom you loved more than your own life was gone?

It felt as if the light had been withdrawn from the world around you, leaving you in a cold, dark, eternal night. Shadows crept from the corners of the tent, enveloping you, embracing you, and swallowing you from all sides.

"No!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face. "It is not true! I would have felt it! The bond between us is too strong; if he were to die, I would have felt it," you shouted at yourself, refusing to believe the horrifying thought that had taken hold of you, but shadows seemed to tighten their grip, making it hard for you to shake off the dreadful fear that had engulfed your heart. You remained crouched on the ground, crying out your helplessness.

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They had ridden the whole night and the following day with maddening speed, pushing both horses and riders to the verge of exhaustion. The previous day, one of the boys spying in Heasten's camp had brought the devastating news that Heasten was almost ready to march and that a message had been sent to Beamfleot, inviting slavers to the camp. As the grim reality settled upon them, the men gathered around the flickering flames exchanged worried glances, their eyes eventually turning to Sihtric. Without a word spoken, he rose to his feet with a resolute look in his eyes and began packing his belongings. In that moment, there was no chaos or panic, not even a haste or commotion in his actions, only a steeliness and a firm determination.

The mere thought that his wife and children were about to be sold as slaves sent a sharp, physical pain coursing through Sihtric's body. It was unbearable. You had already endured enough suffering before he took you away from your life as a whore in a tavern. All Sihtric had ever wanted was to cherish and protect you, to surround you with a shield of his love and care like a soft, comforting blanket, helping you forget your painful past. To him, you were his missing piece, the one who completed him and gave a new purpose to his life. Thoughts of you, your image in his mind, were what fuelled him to survive battle after battle, fighting like a madman, all driven by the one single desire – to return home to you and sink into your arms, knowing that you loved and accepted him unconditionally, just as he loved and accepted you.

He had promised you that he would never let you suffer again, and yet he found himself unable to keep that promise. The weight of this failure, shame and embarrassment had consumed Sihtric’s mind all this time, but now in this very moment there was no room for such emotions, neither for the anxiety nor the fear that had haunted him in the past days. They were all gone, replaced by pure, seething anger that coursed through his vanes, bringing a frightening calmness and composure to him. It was a feeling he knew so well, one that came to him so often amid a battle, when chaos engulfed everything around him. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only one singular purpose in his mind—to fight, to survive. Only this time, there was another driving force propelling him, yet the empowering sensation of being capable of anything, of being unstoppable, remained unchanged.

No one attempted to speak to him or dissuade him. Words were unnecessary; everyone understood that if the captives at Heasten's camp were to be sold as slaves, the chances of ever finding them again would be close to non-existent. Determination etched on his face, Sihtric mounted his horse and cast one last look at the camp, searching for Uhtred with his eyes He didn't want a permission to leave; nothing Uhtred could say or do would stop him. He only hoped for a reassuring glance or nod from his Lord, signalling that the rest of the men would follow the plan as intended. To his astonishment, he saw ten mounted warriors ready to depart, their expressions mirroring his own stern determination.

“Lord?” Sihtric’s voice was hoarse as he looked at Uhtred, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

“Did you really think we’d let you leave without us?” Uhtred responded with a smirk, spurring his horse.

With not enough horses for everyone, the other men would follow on foot, without rest. This was a desperate race against time. They knew they would be tired and hungry when they reached Heasten's camp, likely unfit for battle. The only advantage they could hope for was the element of surprise if the news of Uhtred's pretended departure to Bebbanburg had reached Heasten. Despite the odds stacked against them, not a single man objected to the mad plan.

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As the evening started approaching, you were packed onto wagons with other women and children, bound for a clearing somewhere between the camp and the next city, rumoured to be Beamfleot, as you had overheard from the conversations of other women in the camp. It took a few hours before reaching the clearing, where you were forced to leave the wagons and herded into a small paddock. In the distance, you could see wagons with metal cages, an ominous sight that sent a chill down your spine.

The captives around you were mostly women and children from nearby villages, taken by the Danes during the latest raids. A kind young woman offered to help you carry one of your children and reluctantly you agreed. Exhausted and emotionally drained, you had no more tears left to cry. You were ready to embrace the unknown fate whatever it will bring with a stern determination not to allow it to break you. You will survive, and you will endure. Your children depended on you, and you were determined to be strong for them. There was no room left for self-pity. As you looked around at the other girls, children and women torn away from their homes and families, your heart ached for them. Some were crying, while others wore a stoic, indifferent expression, concealing their inner terror. The atmosphere was heavy with fear and uncertainty as everyone grappled with the terrifying prospect of what awaited them. And deep inside you knew that you were better prepared for this ordeal than any of them.

You watched as several men arrived with Heasten, engaged in a heated argument. Their wild gestures and animated discussions pointed towards the paddock, and it became clear they were bargaining over the captives. After a short moment Heasten nodded to his warriors, and the wooden gate creaked open. The captives were dragged out one by one, forced before the slavers, and then herded towards the waiting wagons. The scene was a nightmare of angst and desperation, with women and children crying, some attempting to resist, only to be met with merciless force and being knocked to the ground and dragged further, their pleas for mercy falling on deaf ears. Tears welled up in your eyes as you felt a mixture of fury and helplessness, witnessing the depths of human cruelty and being unable to do anything about it. You felt sick and dizzy, reduced to a mere commodity, traded and sold as an object.

“Don’t hit them in the face, you idiots!” one of the slavers shouted. “I will not pay for a single bitch with a broken nose!”

The warrior, who had just knocked down a screaming and crying mess of a young woman, casted an annoyed look at the slaver, seized her by her hair and began to drag her along the ground. He managed to do just a few steps before he suddenly froze with a look of complete bewilderment in his eyes that instantly changed to a grimace of pure fear as he released the woman’s hair, fell to his knees, and collapsed face-first into the mud, an axe protruding from his back. The woman sensing the grip on her hair loosen scrambled to her feet, letting out a piercing scream of terror at the sight of the dead warrior behind her.

In that very moment an absolute chaos engulfed the scene. Women and children cried out in fear, slavers run to their wagons and tried to jump onto them, frantic commands filling the air. Heasten and his warriors yelled at each other, attempting to form a makeshift shield wall to protect themselves from the sudden threat that had appeared out of nowhere. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make sense of the unbelievable scene unfolding before your eyes. Who were these attackers? Was it the long-awaited rescue you had desperately hoped for? The thought filled you with a mixture of hope and trepidation. Your gaze darted around, searching for familiar faces in this chaotic turmoil.

Your eyes widened in a mix of hope and disbelief as you recognized Uhtred and Finan charging into the fray. With swords drawn, they, along with a handful of other men, smashed into the small shield wall that Heasten's warriors had desperately attempted to build. They broke through it with little effort. The suddenness of the assault had left Heasten and his men stunned and almost paralyzed, catching them off guard, with waves of fear rippling through their ranks.

As the battle raged around you, your heart pounded in your chest, and your breath came in shallow gasps. You frantically scanned the clearing, desperately searching for the one man you wanted to see most, the man who meant everything to you. Your heart almost froze in your breast as you couldn’t find him and you felt the dark shadows of doubt seizing you with their cold hands, threatening to suffocate you. All those evil whispers that had found their way into your thoughts this morning and that you had tried to ban, were back again, taunting you, telling you that your hopes were in vain, that he was gone, that he couldn't possibly be there to rescue you. The weight of uncertainty threatened to overwhelm you, and you felt your strength faltering. You sank to your knees, holding your child close, feeling the world collapsing around you and then you saw him. You saw Sihtric – your husband, your love – amidst the chaos and the battle. Relief washed over you like a tidal wave, and tears of joy streamed down your cheeks as you realized that he was alive, and he had come for you. In that moment, everything else faded away. The battle still raged around you, but all that mattered was the sight of your husband, the man who had promised to protect you, who had vowed to be by your side always. He was here, and nothing else in the world could compare to the overwhelming feeling of love and gratitude that filled your heart.

Your eyes remained fixed on Sihtric, and what you saw left you breathless. His face contorted with primal fury, he screamed incomprehensibly as he moved with a deadly precision, swinging his battle axe like a force of nature, leaping from one warrior to another. It seemed as if the god of war himself had descended upon that small clearing, delighting in each death he dealt to those who dared to challenge him and threaten what he cherished most.

The efficiency of his movements was awe-inspiring, driven by a mixture of raw power and madness that you had never witnessed before. You had always known that Sihtric was a warrior, that he was killing people if it came to a battle, but this had always been far away from you. It was just a distant knowledge with no real substance. Now, it was all too real, and you couldn't tear your eyes away from the terrifying, yet captivating sight of your husband in his element. His eyes glinted with the thrill of killing, a side of him you had never experienced, that you had never known it even existed.

As the battle gradually subsided, Uhtred's men swiftly seized the few surviving and surrendering warriors, including Heasten himself.

With a loud groan, Sihtric yanked his axe free from the fallen enemy's back. His gaze swept the area, searching for any remaining threat. Sihtric's breath were ragged and uneven, his body tense with adrenaline as he stood amidst the aftermath of the short battle, blood and mud covering his handsome face, his hair matted and dishevelled. His hands, gripping the handle of his war axe, trembled slightly, the knuckles turning white from the strain. In this very moment he was a predator seeking for his next prey, his eyes shining with anticipation and deadly precision, but there was nobody left in the small clearing, so his war axe remained lowered near his side as his eyes finally found you on your knees in the paddock pressing your daughter to your chest, while the woman holding your son stood next to you with absolute terror in her gaze.

As his eyes fell upon you, everything shifted. Sihtric’s face turned pale as he instantly recognised you. The layers of battle-hardened resolve melted away, revealing the raw emotion of a man who had feared the worst and now found the love of his life before him. The mad enraged look in his eyes faded instantly and turned into painful mixture of fear, anxiety, unending love and tenderness, his hands letting loose the handle of his war axe as he run towards you. His eyes never leaving you, he rushed to your side and dropped to his knees, taking hold of your face in his trembling hands and lifting your head to meet his eyes, his dirt-covered hand gently caressing your cheek, wiping away the tears that had mingled with the dirt on your face. Cupping your face gently, he showered you with tender kisses, tracing every inch of your cheeks, nose, and forehead as if reassuring himself that you were real and unharmed.

"I found you, my love, I finally found you," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion, “I am so sorry that you had to endure this. I was so afraid that I have lost you. I …” his voice broke and for a moment he was unable to say anything, emotions overwhelming him and tears welling up in his eyes as he looked down at the small bundle in your hands.

“Gods, … is it true? Is it … ?,” he managed to whisper, “May I? …Would you let me? Please…” his words were a fragile plea, his voice trembling in anticipation and fear you might refuse him, deny him this simple happiness of holding his child. You smiled, your heart swelling with love for the man before you, as you gently extended your arms toward him, giving your silent consent and placing the fragile frame of your daughter into Sihtric’s arms. His eyes lit up with an indescribable happiness, his trembling hands carefully accepting the small bundle, cradling your daughter against his chest as if she were the most precious treasure in the world.

“Gods… I don’t deserve this,” he murmured, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathed barely audible looking into your eyes. There was no need for words, as his eyes were speaking for themselves. The fear of losing you, the happiness of being allowed to hold his new-born child in his arms, the endless love and tenderness, the uncertainly of the future and the silent plea for forgiveness mixed with pure bliss, an overwhelming sense of gratitude and wonder at this moment all mirrored in his gaze as you leaned in to kiss him, dismissing all his doubts, all his fears and insecurities. Your kiss gently brushed against his lips like a fresh breath of the wind, it conveyed more than words ever could—a profound reassurance that you loved him unconditionally, and that he was deserving of your love and all the happiness in this world.

“I love you so much,” Sihtric whispered, holding your daughter tightly, every breath in his body radiating a promise to protect and cherish you, knowing that he had found his true purpose in life—to love and be loved by you.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

#sihtric #sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric fic #tlk #the last kingdom #tlk fic #sihtric x you

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

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hi! So I was wondering if you do requests could I request Ghost x Horse Rider Reader? Thank you so much!!!

Yes! I love this idea, thanks for sending this over!! :)

I hope this is what you were looking for!

A/N: If anyone has any requests, please don't hesitate to send them over! I'll do my best to fulfill the request properly :)

Teach Me How To Ride?

Warnings: swearing, sexual references

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You had always loved horses, ever since you were little. When you were young, you constantly found yourself at your local ranch, getting riding lessons, and spending time with the stable hands.

When you were in your late teens, and your parents realized that this was no longer just a fleeting childhood hobby, they had gotten you your own horse. He was a beautiful, young thoroughbred, and you named him Roach.

Through your early to middle 20’s, as you were finding your footing in life, Roach had followed you everywhere. Every location you ended up, Roach was at a stable just down the road from you.. Every new job, every relationship, every move, Roach was there with you. The bond between the two of you was unbreakable.

Very few people in your life got to meet your horse. It wasn’t something that you were always forthcoming with, as Roach was too special to you, to share with just anyone. That was, until you met Simon.

The two of you had met a few months back at your local bar in Manchester. Simon was home from deployment for a few months, and just so happened to stumble across the same bar you and your friends were at one night. You were walking to your friend's table with a handful of drinks, when you bumped into him, thus spilling your drinks all over him.

“Oh! Oh my god I’m so sorry! I am such a clutz!” You exclaimed, quickly grabbing a roll of paper towels from the bartender, and awkwardly trying to dry this handsome stranger's shirt.

“ ‘S fine, don’t worry about it. I needed an excuse to throw this old shirt out anyways.” He smiled back at you, waiving away your attempts to assist the clean up.

“Well at least let me buy you a drink, I owe you that much.” You offered, meeting his eyes. They were gorgeous. A deep brown, that had your cheeks burning from how intense his eye contact was.

“Fair enough, I’m Simon by the way.” He reached his hand out for you to shake.

“Y/N.” You replied, moving your hand to grasp his. The minute your skin made contact with his, you knew this man would work his way into your heart.

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A couple of months into your relationship, you knew you were ready for Simon to meet Roach. Simon had just gotten back from a short deployment, and you couldn’t have been more excited for the meeting.

“Okay, so he loves carrots, absolutely adores them. He also has this little spot right under his chin that if you scratch just right, gets him all riled up and playful, and honestly it’s the most adorable thing ever.” You were rambling anxiously as you and Simon were walking toward Roach’s stall.

Simon found it adorable, the way you were so excited talking about your horse. He smiled down at you, as the two of you approached the horse’s stall.

“I’m sure he’s going to love you, I mean I do.. And I’m sure you’ll like him, he's really quite great- “ You started before Simon cut you off.

”Love, I can’t wait to meet him. I’ve not seen you this nervous since our first date. Aren’t I the one that’s supposed to be nervous here?” He joked softly.

“Oh hush. I just want my two best boys to like each other. Not everyday I get to introduce Roach to anyone. Especially not a loved one.” You admitted sheepishly, as you opened the stall door slowly, to not spook the horse.

“He’s quite a fine looking horse. I’ve not seen one like him before.” Simon said, as he studied the horse from the entrance of the stall.

“He's a pure thoroughbred, and he’s healthy as…well.. A horse.” You laughed at your own terrible joke.

“Now that one was bad, and that’s coming from me.” Simon said playfully.

You walked up to Roach, and pet his muzzle, earning a snort of appreciation from the animal.

“Come on over, he won’t bite.” You encouraged, waving Simon over to you. “Just place your hand slowly on his muzzle like I just did.”

Simon walked over, matching your movements, and the moment he started to stretch his hand out to touch Roach, the horse had met him halfway and threw his muzzle into the palm of Simon’s hand.

“Oh! I have never seen him do that! It seems he already likes you!” You exclaimed, a smile growing on your face.

Simon had a matching smile on his face, as he started to stroke the horse softly, who continued to snort in appreciation “ I didn’t expect him to be so..gentle.”

“If you treat them right, horses are incredibly gentle creatures.” You said, moving to stand next to Simon.

You both stood there petting the horse for a few minutes, before you threw out an offer to Simon, “After I take him for a warm-up ride, would you like to try?”

“I can think of something else you can ride later.” Simon replied with a cheeky grin.

“Oh heavens, Simon. I swear sometimes, the things I want to do to you.” You groaned sarcastically.

“Want to do what, exactly? Ride me?.” He shoved you playfully, the cheeky grin only growing on his face.

“Simon Riley I swear you will be the death of me one day!” You exclaimed, as you went to go grab your riding gear.

“What do you think, huh?Think I’ll be the death of her bud?” Simon asked Roach, who gave another snort in response. This caused Simon to chuckle, he could see why you enjoyed this guy so much.

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

Simon watched with you in awe, as you rode around a small paddock outside the stable. You looked so graceful on top of the animal, so free. The sight alone had made him fall in love with you even harder.

You rode up to him with a giant grin on your face, and jumped down from the saddle. “Are you ready to try?” You asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose. I’ve only ridden a few times before when I was younger.”

“He’s a great riding partner, he obeys every command. Trained him myself!” You declared proudly.

“Oh you trained him yourself? Crap, is it too late to request another horse?” He joked, dodging your playful attempt to smack his arm.

“Hush, you! Now get on before I change my mind and leave you here.” You laughed.

You helped Simon mount Roach, and assisted in adjusting the straps to make Simon more comfortable.

“How does it feel?” You asked, checking to make sure everything was in good order.

“Feels like I am on a horse.”

This time, he couldn’t dodge the playfully slap on his thigh. “What ever am I going to do with you?” You asked, huffing a small chuckle.

“Teach me how to ride?” He suggested with a wink.

“Heavens! You are on a roll today aren’t you! Alright, to refresh your memory, use the reins to steer, move them in the direction you want to go. Pull them toward you to move backward. Kick with your heels to his side to get him to move. Click your tongue to get to trot, make a kissing noise to get him to gallop. Got it?” You asked.

“Got it ma’am.” Simon replied. He took heed of your instructions and instructed Roach to move forward.

It took a few tries, but Simon soon found himself galloping across the paddock. He felt as free as you had looked when he watched you ride earlier. He didn't want to get down anytime soon, and ended up riding for what felt like hours.

Once he decided he’d had enough on his own, he rode over to you and held out his hand to you. “M’lady.”

You grabbed onto his hand, and he was quick to pull you up and over, placing you in the saddle right in front of him, causing a surprised gasp to fall from your lips. The seating arrangement wasn’t exactly comfortable, as Simon was 6’4 and pure muscle, but you didn’t complain, his gesture alone had your heart melting.

“This is nice, love. I’m glad you brought me here today.” He said, kissing the back of your head.

“I’m glad too, I couldn’t have imagined this going any better. I love you, Simon.” You said, turning your head to kiss him.

“I love you too, y/n.” He replied into the kiss.

You both had gotten lost in each other, the kiss deepening as time went on, only to be interrupted by a whinny from Roach.

“Ahh, it seems he’s eager for another ride. And NO jokes at what I just said.” You said giggling softly.

“He’s not the only one.” Simon replied, unable to help himself.

“SIMON RILEY!” You scolded, the two of you laughing as Roach started to move.

Simon understood why you enjoyed riding so much, he got why it was so addicting. The experience was thrilling and something he knew he'd want to do again and again. He was the happiest he had been in some time and wished for nothing more than for this moment to last forever. Just you, him, and Roach in the setting sun, riding around for hours, and that’s exactly what you did.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #ghost cod #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #cod imagine #ghost mw2

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uslessnoahtall · 5 months

Text

Book Genre Legacy Challenge

Hello! I've been playing the Sims for what feels like forever at this point, and the only way I ever manage to keep myself invested in the game is by playing legacy challenges. I kinda wanted to try my hand at making my own legacy challenge, so here it is!

The Sims 4 Book Genre Legacy Challenge!

Basic Rules: - Reach the end of each aspiration. - Reach level ten of career unless specified otherwise. - Cheats are allowed but try not to use them (only because they make gameplay less fun). - Reach level 10 of each set of skills given for each generation - Heir can be any gender unless specified.

I did my best to make this as Base Game compatible as possible, if you’re missing some packs and I didn’t offer an alternative just pick your own or skip it.

Gen 1: Classics

Colours: Blue and Brown Traits: Family Oriented, Dog Lover (BG: Neat), Art Lover Aspiration: Lord or Lady of the Knits (BG: Successful Lineage) Career: Start as Business but quit once you have kids Skills: Knitting and Parenting

You’ve been called an old soul all your life. Everyone always laughed at you for your simplistic dreams. You’ve always wanted a simple life. White picket fence, perfect partner, two kids, and a dog, maybe even a rocking chair to knit on. Who cares if you don’t have big career plans, at least you’ve got a family.

Rules: - Must have at least two kids - Quit your job once you have your kids. - Have a good relationship with all children. - Adopt a dog once your kids are toddlers. - Only have one romantic relationship and marry them before you’re an adult.

Gen 2: Western

Colours: Brown and White Traits: Bro, Rancher (BG: Hates Children), Loner Aspiration: Championship Rider (BG: Bodybuilder) Career: Athlete or no Job (Horse Ranch) Skills: Fitness, Horse Riding, and Guitar

You grew up in a picture perfect home. You were adored by your parents and lived the perfect life. But not everything was as great as it seemed. You learnt very quickly how mean children could be, as you were the youngest of the family and constantly picked on by your sibling(s). You moved out as soon as your were able to and bought the biggest piece of land you could find. Anything to get away from other people.

Rules: - Have a bad relationship with your sibling(s) - Move out as soon as you’re a young adult onto a plot of land - Buy a horse (if you have HR) as soon as you can - Have an unexpected child (one only) - Don’t move in with your partner until you know you’re having a child - Have a high relationship with partner and parents, no one else

Gen 3: Science Fiction

Colours: White and Green Traits: Geek, Socially Awkward (BG: Clumsy), Genius Aspiration: Computer Whiz Career: Astronaut Skills: Programming, Rocket Science, and Robotics

As an only child, you were taught to entertain yourself. Your parents had never enjoyed company, and hadn’t payed much attention to you growing up. You kept yourself busy, ignoring their silly western ideals and searching for a more captivating life in the stars. You found a passion in technology, and found numbers far easier to understand than people. Maybe there’s life out there better than the people you’ve met on earth.

Rules: - Build a rocket ship - Travel to Sixam and bring an alien back to earth with you (if you have GTW) - Marry the alien and have a kid - Never make friends - Don’t talk to your parents after you move out

Gen 4: Comedy

Colours: Green and Yellow Traits: Goofball, Self Absorbed (BG: Noncommittal), Outgoing Aspiration: Joke Star Career: Entertainer (Comedian Branch) Skills: Comedy and Charisma

Your parents always had their head in the stars, and being half alien you felt like an outcast as a child. You hated how hard it was to make friends and only wanted to be like everyone else. Once you reached a teenager however, you realized that if you tried hard enough and got everyone to like you, no one would even realize you were a little odd.

Rules: - Make a bunch of friends as a teenager, but never stay close with any of them - Host house parties once a week - Have at least three kids and have a good relationship with them all - Sever all connection to your alien parent after you move out

Gen 5: Contemporary

Colours: Yellow and Pink Traits: Ambitious, Snob, Materialistic Aspiration: Fabulously Wealthy Career: Doctor (BG: Business) Skills: Logic and Painting

You grew up in a very loud family. Everyone was always laughing and there were parties almost every week. As a child you loved it, but as you got older you realized there were more important things in life than laughter. You decided to take a different route than the rest of your family. To you, there was nothing more important than success, other than money of course.

Rules: - Marry someone in the same career field as you. - Have a large house and hire a maid/butler as soon as you can afford it. - While your children are young, hire a nanny for them instead of sending them to daycare. - Have an over-the-top wedding. - Decorate your house with your own art (no one else makes art that is good enough for you)

Gen 6: Romance

Colours: Pink and Red Traits: Romantic, Good, Music Lover Aspiration: Soulmate Career: Entertainer (Actor Branch) or Acting (GF) Skills: Charisma, Acting, Piano or Violin

As a kid, you always felt like the outcast of the family. Your sibling(s) were super smart and seemed likely to follow in your parents successful footsteps, while you were always a little behind, more interested in making friends than success. You feel in love with romantic stories and tv shows at a young age, as everything always seemed to work out for the main characters. Your parents were a little cold and you barely saw them be affectionate with each other. As you got older you decided that the world needed a little more love.

Rules: - Must be a woman - Date as many sims as you want but don’t woohoo until married - Have at least two close friends and one best friend - Adopt a dog - Have a music room in your house

Gen 7: Horror

Colours: Red and Black Occult option: Vampire Traits: Gloomy, Perfectionist. Unflirty (BG: Hot-Headed) Aspiration: Villainous Valentine Career: Secret Agent (Villain Branch) Skills: Vampire Lore, Pipe organ or Piano, Mischief

Your mom drove you crazy growing up. Her insanely positive outlook on life made you laugh. You believed she’d just gotten lucky in her love life, there’s no way anyone else could achieve that sort of perfect romance. All that being said, you do love her with all your heart. But as the only official black sheep of the family, you made it your goal to make your family the complete opposite of the one you grew up in, staring with the worst career you could think of.

Rules: - Have a good relationship with your parents and invite them over for weekly dinners - Adopt a black cat -Partner should match your values - Don’t settle down until aspiration is complete

Gen 8: Fantasy

Colours: Black and Purple Traits: Loves Outdoors, Jealous, Creative Aspiration: Freelance Botanist Career: Gardener (BG: No Job) Skills: Gardening, Flower Arranging, Baking

You loved the whimsicalness of your grandmother when you were a child. If you had the choice you would’ve had her raise you instead of your own parents. Growing up in such a dark environment made you want to fill your own house colours. The one thing you and your parent do have in common however, is your twisted outlook on love, as you are constantly convinced that your partner is cheating on you.

Rules: - Have a good relationship with your grandmother - Have at least three partners before you find the one, and be the one to break up with them all - Have a greenhouse - Don’t have any kids until your grandmother dies - Have a rocky relationship with your spouse

Gen 9: Mystery

Colours: Purple and Grey Traits: Paranoid (BG: Loner), Loyal, Slob Aspiration: Master Mixologist Career: Detective (BG: Secret Agent, Diamond Agent Branch) Skills: Mixology, Photography, Charisma

You had a pretty normal childhood, aside from the occasional screaming match between your parents. Unfortunately you inherited one of your parents tendency for paranoia, and constantly think somethings out to get you. Instead of taking it out on your partner however, you take it out on the criminals in town, and the occasional drink. And hey you never know, maybe some criminals can be trusted.

Rules: - Have at least one drink a night after work (either at a bar or at home) - Marry someone in the criminal career branch (can be cheated) - Move houses at least three times (best to never stay in one place too long) - Never hire a repair service, fix everything yourself

Gen 10: Memoir

Colours: Grey and Blue Traits: Perfectionist, Ambitious, High Maintenance (BG: Creative) Aspiration: Best-selling Author Career: Writer (Author Branch) Skills: Writing

Growing up you loved your parents, but something about how much they drank always rubbed you the wrong way. You always liked things to be set up in specific ways and you hated the fact that your parents always left a mess. You spent a lot of time reading as your parents were too preoccupied to take much care of you. One day you find a bunch of dusty old books that appear to be about the older generations of your family, but it’s hard to make out. Annoyed by the lack of information about your family lineage, you decide you should be the one to write it all down.

Rules: - Have a complicated relationship with your parents - Publish 10 books, each named after a different generation. - Read 9 books prior to starting your writing (as research). - Have a library in your home

I think that's everything! I hope you guys enjoy this challenge! Please tag me in any posts about this challenge or post it with the hashtag #bookgenrelegacy

Happy Simming!

#sims 4 #sims 4 generations #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 legacy #bookgenrelegacy #sims 4 challenge #the sims community #thesims4 #sims 4 cc

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xx-thedarklord-xx · 4 months

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saw your name on the erised particpant post and i'm so excited to read what you wrote! it's like seeing authors in the wild when they do fests and stuff. can't wait

Ahh thank you! I've participated three times in Erised and unfortunately, this year will be my last time for that particular fest, but I am glad you are looking forward to it! There's another fest I participated in as well that will get revealed in the next couple weeks. If you are interested in my past fest fics, I'll link them.

-Dear Cousin, Love Regulus [Harry/Draco Big Bang 2018] As the sole Malfoy heir, Draco understood that his path was set long before his birth; who to be, how to act and what his choices should be. What he had not counted on was the power of outside influences. Letters from his deceased cousin caused him to realize that he did have choices, starting with the choice to be someone else, to be who he wanted to be. The road to self-discovery was difficult and navigating that path in the shadow of Harry Potter was its own challenge but maybe, just maybe, his friends would help him along the way. And he would owe it all to Regulus Black.

-Ardour of Karma [H/D Erised 2019] “Malfoy knows something is going on with you and unless you both want to go back to fighting and death glares, you should fix it.”

“How do I do that? Just waltz up to him and say, ‘I know I’ve been a prat but your scent makes my dick swell. How’s your day?’”

“Mind repeating that?”

The familiar drawl had Harry’s throat clamming up as his blood ran cold. Oh no.

-The Forsaken [Harry/Draco OwlPost 2019] When Draco imagined his future as a child he thought he'd be a Potion Master, get married and maybe have a kid. But the reality was he was a retired Assassin, bitten by a Vampire and mated to a reckless, idiotic, foolish ex-Auror now turned Veela—Harry Potter.

-Borrowing Courage [H/D Erised 2018] After years of being a Magical Artist and painting for other people, Draco decides it’s time to paint for himself for once. The secrets pile up as he tries to unravel the mystery of his relatives but the only thing he didn’t count on was having to go to Potter of all people for approval.

-Save a Horse, Ride a Malfoy [HP Kinkfest 2020] Riddles are woven throughout life, some never answered and many lost in frustration. Whatever riddle it was that defined what Harry and Draco had was a mess of a riddle that worked for them, despite what everyone else thought, even if there was no answer—yet. Sex was another riddle, only that was one they had solved many, many times over.

-Still Standing [H/D Fan Fair 2019] Not many know the evil origins of a Philosopher's Stone. When Draco discovers that the Goblins found one and kept it, he'll stop at nothing to see it taken care of. Even if that means having to deal with Gringotts' very own resident twat: Harry Potter.

-Augury Forecast [HP Drizzle Fest 2018] Draco had always known that teaching at Hogwarts would be an experience, he just didn’t think that meant a flash flood in the kitchens, a windstorm in the Great Hall, or a sandstorm in the Quidditch pitch. Months of extreme weather would grate on anyone’s nerves, but to have Potter, the ever annoying Divination Professor, around every corner was even worse. So much for a quiet life at Hogwarts.

-Teach Me [HP Contest Fest 2018] "If you can’t learn Occlumency, then you can’t become an Auror.”

No. All of this couldn’t be for nothing. Harry hadn’t spent so much time proving himself, proving that he was more than just a famous name for all of this to go to shite. “This can’t be the end.”

"I have someone in mind that could teach you if you are willing, but I can't guarantee he will help, especially considering your... past."

"You don't mean Malfoy, do you?"

-Worth Betting On [HP Joggers Fest 2018] The easy way Malfoy breezed into the arena in an unprofessional attire—grey joggers that outlined far too much, and a white dress shirt open with nothing underneath—which showed off his chest, his sweaty sweaty chest—had Harry sitting up straighter. It wasn't unusual to see Malfoy in such a state of undress, it was a signature move that he refused to change.

Not that Harry wanted him to change.

Or the one where Draco is a professional Duelist, and Harry can't stay away from the matches.

#drarry #my stuff #XxTheDarkLordxX Writes #my fest stuff #didn't realize I was in so many of them over the years #i would like to participate in more this upcoming year #we shall see what life throws at me

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magnusbae · 10 months

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tfw u have a Complicated™️ Relationship With An Otherworldly Creature

First of all, I would like to point out that I DID NOT REALIZE WE HAD THAT DISCUSSION ON APRIL FOOL'S DAY.

All I remember is being delirious from lack of sleep and you indulging me by listening to my ravings about a Venom AU for dreamling aND THEN MAKING AN ACTUAL MEME FOR IT!!!

While I don't remember much of what we said that morning, and this meme being perfect for Canon AU also, I will focus my efforts on elaborating on this Venom AU no one had asked for but everybody will be getting!

◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

"It's not human, but it's given me things no girlfriend ever could."

Hob Gadling is by no means a man who lacks options. He had fucked, and he had fucked a lot. He dated, he had even married once. He did all there is to be done, from casual to serious and yet... nothing comes close to this, to this bond he shares, to this otherworldly creature living within him, sustaining him, enveloping him, devouring him.

"Beloved," Hob says, feeling the instantaneous warming of his chest. Dream, (That is his name.) (Oh, what a lovely name it is.) often responds in such a manner to terms of endearment. He enjoys them more than he would ever care to admit. All the more incentive for Hob to use them as frequently as humanly possible. Which is to say, a lot.

The low frequency rumbling inside of his chest cavity lets him know that Dream is very much aware and chooses to remain silent on the matter. He is so sweet, actually the sweetest creature in the entirety of existence. It's hard to remember a time when he had thought otherwise, a time in which he was actually terrified of the creature that had decided to use his body as a free-ride.

Yes? Dream finally speaks, tired of waiting for Hob to verbalize his thoughts. His voice is a deep thunder inside of Hob's mind, closer to a loud thought than an actual audible sound. An intrusive thought he would never wish to get rid of. Hob. Strict, impatient, amused. He feels like Dream cannot decide if he's more irritated or amused by Hob's wandering thoughts. Speak.

Hob huffs out a laughter, shaking his head and opening his fist in an invitation. The empty spaces between his fingers are soon filled with claw-like ink black fingers. Dream's hand, firm and strong.

"I was just thinking," Hob closes his hand, squeezing Dream's hand in his, feeling the tightening of Dream's hand in turn. "how it's our anniversary tonight" he closes his eyes, thinking of a year ago, miserable and lost and terrified, with nothing in this world left, running into an alien that by all means was supposed to devour him long ago.

Expect for the miraculous part of them being so perfectly matched that Dream decided to preserve him instead. Tend his body, strengthen it, keep it safe. The only price being that he also gets to live in it. See humanity, learn of it, understand it. It's what he told him, however Hob suspects, knows really, that it was something far more personal.

Dream had filled spaces Hob didn't even know he had. Voids so small you don't know them but you ache them. And if Hob does even a fraction of what Dream does to him— well then, there's the reason.

Yes. Dream rambles, pleased. Anniversary, like marriage. the last word is purred so quietly it's almost like it's Hob's own thought.

"Hold your horses," Hob laughs again, cheeks warming up, he's smiling wide enough to ache "I expect to get properly proposed to, who do you think I am? I ain't cheap, you know" he feels a hand brushing his hip bone, an intimate, possessive gesture that sets a shiver down his groin.

Yes, of course. Dream's finger trace's down the 'V' lines, claw gentle but ever present. Not cheap. Proposal. Indeed. Dream is amused again, the cheeky creature is making fun of him, and that, is damn hot.

Whatever response Hob was about to give is swallowed down with a yelp when Dream takes him into his hand. Hob breathes out, mind blanking as the decidedly inhuman hand starts working on him.

Conversations about propriety can wait. After all, this is so much more interesting. Whatever else you can say about dating a formless alien who resides inside of your body, there's undeniable benefits to them literally sharing your own pleasure. Makes for a very good partner indeed.

◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘ ◘

Written in one go without editing because if I allow myself even a single more hour of thinking how it needs to be PERFECT I will die LMAO.

Brief explanation of Venom for those who didn't watch it! >> under the cut.

Generally speaking, I would imagine that Dream's initial reason was to study, understand, experience a different existence than his own. He had no regard for human life (still doesn't, not in the way a human would) he was perfectly fine with riding human bodies and living their lives until they expired.

Expect Dream had found Hob, a perfect match, a human body that accepted every single cell of him with open arms, way before Hob even realized he loved Dream, his body had already accepted him.

This can have over-complicated plot, and it could be a simply fun-little au. It can have a "fish-bowl" rescue of reported Hob breaking into the Lab where Dream was being experimented on, and it could be Hob's homeless era when on top of everything else going wrong with his life, he also gotten jumped by an alien symbiote in an alley.

It can be anything you wish to imagine, but bottom line is— imagine the intimacy, the bond, the tenderness of sharing a body with a creature that envelopes you whole, who loves you whole, who cares and wants you whole. Body and Soul and Mind, literally, figuratively, everything.

A bond so close you feel like a single being, bond so close you feel you would die if separated. Hob didn't even know he needed it. Hob thought his life was complete, even if shitty at times, he didn't feel any lackings, and yet..... when Dream came into his life, he realized it was an empty shell compared to what it is.

And Dream, who had never felt a connection, only felt rejection after rejection, and then in the case of the lab-trab, the experiments and cruelty. Being loved and accepted and wanted so fully he betrays his entire species to be with Hob.

-----

Essentially, Venom is one specimen of a symbiotic life form that finds a host and bonds with it. It's not easy to find a proper host, if the host is not right, the symbiote would slowly devour the body and eventually kill the human. In the comics canon, a human named Eddie and Venom form a bond, eventually fall in love, and share a very intimate relationship. It's a VERY half-assed explanation, but basically, the symbiote literally lives inside of the human host, and it makes for some......fun dynamics. considering it's a literal alien.

#I will NOT be rereading it so unless I made some horrid mistake it IS WHAT IT IS #it's been in my inbox longer than it should have gavregbaet but i couldn't just 'post it' with a LOL and that's it! I haD TO ELABORARE.#thanks for the MEME it's pefECT !!!#dreamling #the sandman #dreamling venom au #I GUESs?#buns.w #buns.all #cuubism #msg

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kingofbodyrolls · 14 days

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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | fourteen

🐴Chapter summary: After breaking up with Jimin, you realize how much you love him, and that maybe that love should be enough to carry you through your new life— being a parent, for someone else’s child.

🐴Chapter title: I Wish the Past was Different

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: angst (is this really a surprise?), mention of pregnancy (not oc!!!), a riding accident, a lot of thinking and overthinking, sadness and angst, jealousy, working through feelings.

🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!)

🐴Word count: 10.5k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Time Turn Over” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: OC is being very Bella Swan in this chapter, I’m sorry again 😭 BUT!!! The angst goes away in this chapter too, because I just wouldn’t do it (I’m tired of the angst, lol). Because of said angst, it was tough for me to write and I actually ended up asking my husband for advice because I was stuck, not meeting my own word length deadline and because I just felt stuck in general 🥲 But alas, he gave me a good idea, and I went with that! There is very minimal angst going forward from this chapter, like it’s so minor compared to all the rest, so I hope you’ll enjoy mostly unicorns and rainbows after this chapter ☀️

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue 💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?

← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist | next →

“And oh, I wish the past was different And oh, I wish it wasn’t so But in the end, because I’m here now In the end, I think you know I can’t say it and you can’t feel it but I can not let it go And oh, I wish the past was different And oh, I wish it wasn’t so” ‘I Wish the Past Was Different’ by Rebecca Lavelle

You’ve thrown yourself into your work with the wild horses, seeking solace in their untamed spirits. Yet, the bittersweet reality of having to work at Jimin’s place constantly tugs at your heartstrings. Each encounter with him reignites the longing to be wrapped in his arms, to find solace in his embrace, and to believe in a future together. But then you catch sight of Deiji, and the floodgates of jealousy and insecurity and self doubt burst open once more, drowning you in feelings of inadequacy and unpreparedness for the daunting prospect of motherhood, especially when it's someone else's child at the center of it all.

Why does life have to twist and turn in such cruel ways? The weight of this pain is crushing, dragging you down with each passing moment, threatening to shatter you into irreparable fragments.

You find yourself yearning for an alternate reality where Jimin never crossed paths with Deiji, where their relationship was just a figment of imagination rather than a painful reality. The ache in your chest resonates with the desire to assign blame, to point fingers at anything but your own heart for walking away. It’s easier to lay fault at the feet of Deiji and Jimin than to confront the agonizing truth of your own decision to part ways.

You scuff, a tempest of anger and sorrow swirling within you, each emotion battling for dominance, leaving your stomach tied in knots. Amidst this tumult, focusing on the wild horses becomes a difficult task, prompting Hoseok to step in and assist Yoongi more frequently while you remain perched atop the fence, a silent observer of the scene below.

The love between the two men is palpable, their synergy evident as they collaborate seamlessly. Yet, as you observe them coaxing a once-wild gray horse into submission, a bittersweet symphony plays in your heart. Their laughter, like tinkling bells, fills the air, but with each shared chuckle, a pang of longing grips your soul. You can’t help but notice the gentle caress of Hoseok's hand on Yoongi’s arm, the way their eyes meet with an unspoken understanding, and their voices, light and airy, carrying the melody of their affection.

Their effortless relationship is both heartwarming and gut-wrenching to witness. You adore them both and revel in their happiness, yet a pang of envy lingers as you yearn for a similar bliss with Jimin. The prospect of parenthood looms over you like a daunting storm cloud, and you're lost in a tempest of uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate the tumultuous waters ahead.

Hoseok’s hands caress the sleek coat of the gray horse, his touch a delicate dance of reassurance and patience. The majestic creature stands serene under his guidance, a testament to their bond of trust and understanding.

Yoongi pivots, his keen eyes catching the shadow of sorrow that’s cloaked you for days, casting a solemn hue over your features.

He strides over, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of your storm. Perching beside you on the fence, he offers a reassuring pat on your shoulder. “It’s going to be alright,” he assures, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

You highly doubt it. You replay the choices in your mind like a broken record, each decision leading you to this moment of heartache. You could have chosen to stay with Jimin, to endure the pain silently, but the weight of it all felt unbearable. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil within.

You turn your gaze towards Yoongi, the question burning on your lips, a mixture of curiosity and longing swirling in your chest. Despite knowing you shouldn't pry, your heart yearns for a glimpse into Jimin’s world. “How’s Jimin holding up?” you inquire, your voice tinged with a fragile hope, betraying the emotions you've been grappling with.

Yoongi’s eyes meet yours, a silent plea evident in their depths, urging you to reconsider your question. His expression carries a weight of concern, as if he’s shielding you from the painful truth that might follow.

As the silence lingers, you press further, your voice a whisper weighted with apprehension. “Is he... back with Deiji?” The words hang heavy in the air, fraught with a mix of dread and longing for a truth you're not sure you're ready to confront.

Yoongi’s features contort into a mask of sorrow, his gaze drifting downward to the grains of sand within the pen, as if seeking solace in the mundane. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself with questions like this,” he murmurs, his tone heavy with empathy and resignation. “But no, Jimin is still very single.”

The revelation doesn’t exactly lift the weight from your heart, though it's a relief knowing he’s not rushing back into Deiji’s embrace. Still, a melancholic ache persists, knowing that things have unfolded this way.

Yoongi’s words land like a gentle breeze, stirring a mix of emotions within you. “You know,” he confides, his tone carrying a thread of hope. “Jimin misses you a lot. He talks about you everyday. He wishes that you’ll change your mind and come back home.” As his gaze meets your weary eyes, a glimmer of optimism dances in his own.

Tears have become an unwelcome companion, tracing silent rivers down your cheeks, staining your pillow with the remnants of your sorrow. Night after night, you find solace in the lullaby of tears, until even your sister’s concern casts a shadow upon your weary soul. Your eyes, once bright with laughter, now betray the weight of your heartache, swollen and heavy with the burden of your grief. Yet, in the face of it all, you couldn’t summon the energy to care.

You draw in a shuddering breath, grappling with the tempest of emotions swirling within you. “I miss him too,” you admit, your voice quivering with raw honesty. “But I can’t bear the thought of being in a relationship with him, not with his child on the way with another woman.”

You release a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of exhaustion and emotional turmoil. Every task seems monumental, even the simplest ones, and just coaxing yourself out of bed feels like an uphill battle. A tear teeters on the edge of your waterline, a silent testament to the inner turmoil gnawing at your soul. Desperate to divert your thoughts from Jimin's memory, you draw in a deep breath and pivot the conversation. “You and Hoseok seem really happy,” you remark, attempting to steer the dialogue towards a lighter topic.

A gentle chuckle ripples from Yoongi’s lips beside you, a soothing sound amidst the heaviness of your emotions. He senses your need for a reprieve and graciously allows the shift in conversation. “Was that a question or a statement?” he quips, his laughter like a beacon guiding you away from the shadows of sadness, urging your weary spirit back towards the light.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, a brief respite from the weight of your thoughts. “Definitely a statement,” you reply with a hint of self-awareness, the sound of your laughter mingling with the breeze, carrying a fleeting moment of lightness through the heavy air.

“We are happy,” Yoongi affirms, a genuine smile spreading across his face, revealing the warmth in his eyes. Together, you observe Hoseok’s movements with the gray horse below, the sight of him successfully saddling the animal a testament to his skill and patience.

“That’s great. I’m so happy for you, Yoongi,” you express, mustering a smile, though it lacks the usual sparkle that once defined it.

“Thank you. But I can see it’s tough for you,” he starts, his gaze probing yours, seeking something elusive, something you're not quite sure of.

You brush off his concern with a casual flick of your hand. “I put myself in this situation,” you say, the weight of your words heavier than you intended.

You slump further against the fence, sinking into the sanctuary of your own fragile thoughts.

Hoseok remains focused on the horse, his movements fluid and purposeful, while Yoongi stands steadfast beside you, his arm enveloping you in a comforting embrace, a reassuring anchor amidst the tumult of your thoughts.

“Thank you Yoongi,” You express your gratitude to Yoongi with a heartfelt whisper, leaning into his comforting presence. His embrace is a sanctuary, enveloping you in warmth and the refreshing scent of mint, a soothing balm to your troubled soul.

“What for?” With a soft chuckle, Yoongi queries, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.

“For always being there for me,” You utter, your voice laced with profound gratitude. The weight of your words hangs in the air, a testament to the depth of your appreciation for his unwavering friendship.

The relentless sun beats down upon you as you toil alongside Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin, laboring to scrub clean the water trough for the cattle in a distant paddock. Beads of sweat form rivulets on your brow, and you futilely attempt to brush them away with the hem of your shirt, but the relentless heat refuses to relent.

The scorching heat bears down upon you relentlessly as you vigorously scrub away at the trough, determined to rid it of its slimy residue, accumulated grime, and encrusted grease. Each stroke of the brush is a testament to your commitment, knowing full well the vital importance of this cleaning ritual to ensure the cattle’s access to pristine water during their time in the paddock.

“Don’t you think it’s time to move on?” Ara’s words pierce through the haze of your thoughts, jolting you out of the cocoon of self-pity you’ve wrapped yourself in.

Beside you, Soo-ah and Ha-rin exchange startled gasps, their synchronized reaction prompting you to arch an eyebrow in curiosity, silently urging Ara to continue.

“That’s so inconsiderate of you to say, Ara!” Soo-ah’s reprimand cuts through the air, her words laced with a protective edge, while Ha-rin’s support echoes her sentiment, amplifying the intensity of the moment.

“What? But she seems so miserable, Jimin too, why don’t you just work it out?” Ara’s voice carries genuine concern, wrapped in a gentle tone, yet it strikes a nerve within you. You sense her good intentions, but the thought of rehashing your struggles yet again feels draining. With a heavy exhale, you opt for silence, allowing your frustration to seep out in a weary sigh.

“Don’t you think she would work it out with him, if she wanted to?” Ha-rin’s words cut through the humid air, laced with a hint of frustration as she vigorously scrubs the steel trough. It’s a valid question, one that resonates with the unspoken doubts lingering in your mind. You ponder her inquiry, the rhythmic sound of metal against metal providing a backdrop to your internal turmoil.

It’s a surreal sensation, like eavesdropping on a conversation about your own life from a distance. Their words hang heavy in the air, echoing the unspoken complexities of your situation. You stand there, a silent observer to your own narrative, grappling with the strange disconnect between your presence and their discussion.

Ara’s voice rises, her words infused with a desperate plea for understanding. But like, last time they didn’t talk for months and it was just a stupid misunderstanding,” she insists, her eyes searching for empathy among her companions.

Soo-ah interjects with a firm tone, “Do you even comprehend the sheer effort it takes to raise a child?” she questions, her gaze piercing. “If she’s not prepared for that responsibility, then she’s simply not ready.”

It feels funny, how they are talking about you and Jimin, you might as well say something.

The scrubbing of the trough halts abruptly as you pivot towards Ara, your expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve. “It’s not that we aren’t talking,” you begin, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions. “We still communicate, but it’s the sight of Deiji that stings the most. Knowing they’re expecting a child together... it’s hard not to feel consumed by jealousy,” you confess, the words heavy with raw honesty.

Ara’s eyes soften with understanding, her nod a silent acknowledgment of the tumult of emotions you're navigating. “It sounds like you want a child of your own, with Jimin,” she ventures, her words carrying a gentle empathy that resonates with your innermost desires and fears.

Ha-rin’s reaction is a blend of admonishment and hushing as she playfully nudges Ara’s arm, silently urging her to tread carefully while also chiding her for broaching a sensitive topic.

“I’m not entirely certain about having children,” you start, your words measured and tinged with uncertainty, “but raising someone else’s child is certainly not what I imagined or wanted to do.”

Soo-ah and Ha-rin exchange understanding nods. “Do you think you might change your mind later?” Ha-rin inquires gently, her voice carrying a tone of empathy as she continues with her task.

You pause, mulling over her question for a moment, before responding thoughtfully, “I’m not entirely sure... perhaps. It’s just... I can’t quite envision how it would all come together, you know?”

“I just... when I envision Jimin embracing fatherhood, cherishing that little girl of his soon entering the world, it’s her child, not mine,” you sigh in frustration, yet oddly finding a glimmer of relief in the honesty of your words.

“So you’re jealous that it’s not going to be your child?” Ara teases beside you, prompting a scolding glare from Soo-ah.

“You just said you didn’t want kids, but now you say you do... make up your mind,” Ara adds, rolling her eyes in a playful yet challenging manner.

“She doesn’t want Deiji’s kid, can’t you get that?” Soo-ah says, coming to your defense once more, her voice firm with conviction.

“Guys! I’m just not sure I want kids, period. Why can’t I be undecided on this?” Your words hang heavy in the air, a plea for understanding, as you return to the task of scrubbing the trough with a vigor that betrays your inner turmoil.

“Yeah. Let’s not badger her, okay?” Ha-rin’s voice cuts through the tension like a soothing balm, her gentle plea for empathy echoing your own sentiments. You catch her soft gaze, a silent acknowledgment of her understanding, offering a momentary respite from the probing questions.

“But can I say something?” Her demeanor shifts with a mix of hesitance and determination, her gaze seeking reassurance before she speaks. You offer a nod, granting her the space to voice her thoughts, curious about what might follow.

“You still love Jimin and he still loves you— don’t you think you could focus on that, and just like, not focus on the kid?” Her words hang in the air, a delicate plea woven with threads of hope and uncertainty. You feel a pang of longing as she speaks, her sincerity piercing through the heaviness of the situation. Despite the weight of her suggestion, you can't help but consider the possibility buried within her question.

As her words sink in, you find yourself grappling with a newfound perspective. The idea of focusing on your enduring love for Jimin rather than fixating on the looming presence of a child is both liberating and daunting. It’s a notion you’ve never entertained before, a ray of light piercing through the clouds of uncertainty that have engulfed you. Could it be that the solution to your turmoil lies in embracing the love that binds you, rather than allowing fear to drive you apart?

Each stroke of the brush across the canvas feels like a dance, a rhythmic movement driven by the whirlwind of thoughts swirling through your mind. Jimin’s presence looms large in your thoughts, refusing to be ignored or pushed aside. Ha-rin’s words echo in your ears, a gentle reminder to reconsider your perspective. As you ponder the notion of shifting your focus away from Jimin’s impending fatherhood, you can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope flicker within you. Could it be that amidst the chaos of uncertainty, there lies a path illuminated by the enduring flame of love?

You remain ensnared in the labyrinth of uncertainty, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the intricacies of your relationship. The truth is a bitter pill to swallow: Jimin’s impending fatherhood would inevitably redefine the contours of your relationship, demanding a portion of his time and attention that you would never begrudge. Yet, amidst the tangle of doubts and fears, a flicker of understanding begins to dawn. Perhaps, in the vast expanse of love, there exists room for compromise, for navigating the labyrinth together, hand in hand.

The question lingers in the depths of your soul, a haunting refrain echoing through the corridors of your mind: are you truly prepared for it all?

Ready to become someone’s mother. Step mother?

Ready to raise a child?

Yet, can you truly provide a nurturing environment for a child if one of the adults harbors resentment towards their presence?

You understand it’s not the child’s fault, but the mere thought of it being Deiji’s offspring churns your stomach. You harbor an intense dislike for her, and a nagging suspicion still lingers, whispering that she’s up to something.

You’ve never laid eyes on any proof of the paternity test, and the unsettling thought lingers: did Jimin even ask to see it? Perhaps it's time to broach that topic with him.

As you reminisce about the warmth and intimacy you once shared with Jimin, a wave of melancholy washes over you, leaving you adrift in a sea of longing. Doubts creep in, questioning the wisdom of your choices. Should you have held onto what you had with him, despite the challenges?

The canvas before you mirrors the tumult within, a chaotic blend of muddy hues—gray, brown, beige, and dark blue—an unexpected abstraction of your inner turmoil. It’s a reflection of your tangled thoughts, much like the surprise abstract painting that has emerged from your brush. Yet, beneath the layers of color, a longing persists. You ache to create something different, something infused with the joy of yesteryears—perhaps the serene landscapes that once graced your canvas. Yet, as you realize nearly a year has passed since your return to the ranch, a flood of memories rushes in, dominated by thoughts of Jimin.

Oh, how you wish things were different.

On an unassuming day, bathed in sunlight, you find yourself quietly eating breakfast in the kitchen, lost in your own solemn musings. Suddenly, the tranquility is shattered as Jungkook steps into the room, jolting you out of your reverie.

You’re acutely aware that since parting ways with Jimin, you’ve been teetering on the brink of depression. It was a painful but necessary decision to safeguard your shattered heart. Yet, despite your efforts to protect yourself, you’re haunted by the gnawing realization that no matter what path you choose, your heart remains irreparably broken.

“Hey,” he greets you with a warm smile, but as you return the gesture, your own smile falls short of matching his infectious happiness. Your gaze lingers on him, curiosity piqued as you notice something clutched in his hand. Why is he carrying a letter?

“How are you doing?” he inquires, and you respond with a bitter chuckle. Can’t he see how you’re doing? You’re well aware of your appearance, having been reminded by your sister that you look like a mess. The truth is, you’re consumed by a constant sadness, and you’ve exhausted all your energy trying to conceal it.

“I feel like shit,” you admit, opting for raw honesty because pretending otherwise seems futile. Jungkook knows you well, understands the depth of your pain stemming from the breakup with his brother.

He offers you a reassuring smile, closing the distance between you as he gently places the white envelope on the table. Your eyes drift down to it, and you immediately recognize your name scrawled across it in familiar handwriting—it’s Jimin’s.

“This is from my brother,” he murmurs, his nerves palpable as he scratches the back of his head, causing you to shift your gaze between him and the letter, your mind racing with anticipation. What could possibly be contained within? Will it offer solace or inflict further pain? The uncertainty grips you tightly, leaving you on edge.

“Can’t he speak for himself?” You question, a hint of frustration seeping into your voice as your fingers hover over the letter, finally grasping it to inspect its contents.

“He’s torn about whether to give you space or not,” Jungkook confides, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “And he has no idea that I snatched the letter.”

Your eyes widen as you fix your gaze on him. “Are you sure I should read this then?” You inquire, a hint of apprehension creeping into your voice. “Maybe Jimin doesn’t want me to read it.”

Jungkook offers you a gentle smile. “It’s fine,” he reassures, his tone laced with determination. “If he gets mad, it’s on me. But you need to read it. I’m tired of seeing you both suffer like this.”

With those words, he leaves you to grapple with your thoughts and the letter, its edges slightly crumpled, a testament to the turmoil it contains. Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind weighed down by a heavy burden, and your eyes dry from the countless tears shed. You resolve to open the letter, sliding it out slowly; its handwritten contents are adorned with dried tears, each smudge a poignant reminder of the emotions woven into every word. Even before you begin to read, a lump forms in your throat, and your vision blurs with the tears welling up in your eyes.

Despite your trembling hands and the overwhelming emotions coursing through you, you summon every ounce of courage within you. With a determined resolve, you steady your gaze and immerse yourself in every heart-wrenching word penned by Jimin in his letter.

My love,

You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you more than words can express, and the ache of missing you is a constant companion. I’m deeply sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. No apology could ever capture the depth of my remorse for hurting you repeatedly. My heart weighs heavy with regret, and I want you to know how truly sorry I am. I wish I could undo the hurt I’ve caused. I understand that you may not be ready for motherhood, and I would never want to pressure you into anything. But I hold onto hope that we can find our way back to each other. I love you endlessly, and the thought of being apart is unbearable. I know I don’t deserve your kindness and forgiveness, but please, consider giving me another chance. You are my everything, and I long for us to be reunited.

With all my love and remorse,

Jimin

As your tears mingle with Jimin’s on the page, your heart aches with a poignant mix of love and pain. Despite the hurt he’s caused, your love for him remains unwavering, yet it’s accompanied by the uncertainty of whether you’re prepared for motherhood. However, amidst the turmoil, a flicker of hope ignites within you—perhaps, just perhaps, you can find the strength to be ready for that journey with him.

You sense the weight of your thoughts pressing down, suffocating you. There’s an urgency to clear your mind, to escape the labyrinth of your own making. And you know precisely what remedy awaits: a ride. Out onto the sprawling expanse of land surrounding your ranch, where the wind whispers secrets and the horizon stretches endlessly. It’s your sanctuary, your refuge from the turmoil within—a chance to lose yourself in the rhythm of hoofbeats and the vastness of the world beyond.

Typically, when you saddle up, the chaos in your mind settles, and you allow yourself to sink into the serenity of the natural world, letting the rhythm of hoofbeats replace the cacophony of thoughts.

That’s why you find yourself in the barn, carefully saddling Mikrokosmos, feeling the familiar weight of the leather in your hands, the comforting scent of hay and wood surrounding you. With each buckle tightened and each strap secured, a sense of anticipation builds within you. Leading Mikrokosmos out of the barn, you’re eager to immerse yourself in the healing embrace of nature, seeking solace in the rhythmic cadence of hoofbeats and the whispering winds.

With a steady breath, you slide your foot into the stirrup, feeling the familiar weight of your body settling into the saddle. As you swing your leg over, a surge of anticipation courses through you, mingling with the raw energy emanating from Mikrokosmos. With a gentle nudge of your heels, you coax her into motion, feeling the power of her muscles ripple beneath you as she eagerly responds to your command, propelling both of you forward into the boundless expanse of the open land.

With each rhythmic beat of Mikrokosmos’ hooves against the earth, you surrender to the wild abandon of the ride, seeking solace in the untamed beauty of the landscape unfurling before you. Away from the suffocating grip of memories and uncertainties, you allow the wind to carry away the weight of your burdens, embracing the freedom of the open horizon as you ride further into the unknown.

As the wind weaves through your hair, its gentle touch whispers a symphony of freedom, entwining with the rhythmic melody of Mikrokosmos’ hooves tearing through the earth. With each stride, she paints the landscape with her fervent dance, sending plumes of dust swirling into the air. In the harmony of nature’s cadence, your spirit soars, liberated from the weight of doubt and longing. Each thunderous beat of her hooves resonates with the pounding rhythm of your heart.

Surrendering to the rush of wind and the pounding of hooves, you relinquish the burdens that have tethered your soul, allowing them to scatter like leaves in the breeze, if only for a fleeting moment.

As the sky transforms from serene blue to ominous gray, then to the cloak of night pierced by flashes of lightning, you sense the electricity in the air mirrored by Mikrokosmos’ subtle twitch, a silent acknowledgment of nature’s impending fury.

As the thunderclouds gather with ominous intent, you’re acutely aware of the danger of being caught in the open during a storm. Lost in the vast expanse, you realize with a sinking feeling that you’ve ventured too far to return before the tempest strikes. Yet, the urgency to seek shelter pushes you onward, driven by the instinct to find safety amidst the approaching chaos.

Amidst the dense foliage, you urgently guide Mikrokosmos, a steadfast companion in the tumultuous terrain. Suddenly, a deafening rumble ruptures the air, and the heavens ignite with a blinding flash. Your loyal steed startles, veering sharply as a nearby tree becomes a target for the furious lightning. With lightning’s crackle still echoing, Mikrokosmos rears in panic, jolting you from the saddle. You plummet to the earth, pain searing through your body upon impact, a harsh reminder of nature's unforgiving power. Fuck it hurts.

Mikrokosmos, wide-eyed and trembling, lingers by your side, almost like she wants to make sure you’re okay. You extend a trembling hand in reassurance, craving the solace of her presence, but as another deafening thunderclap reverberates through the sky, she recoils in terror. With a swift and panicked motion, she breaks away, vanishing into the wilderness, leaving you alone amidst the storm’s fury.

“Mikrokosmos, come back!” Your voice echoes through the wilderness, a desperate plea swallowed by the roaring tempest. With each strained syllable, you feel the weight of your fear and frustration, your heart racing in sync with her retreating hoofbeats. As you struggle to rise, the sting of pain ignites along your spine, a harsh reminder of your vulnerability amidst nature's fury. Damn it - you should have prepared her for moments like these, should have been more vigilant in her training with sudden loud noises. Now, your failure looms large, a bitter taste of remorse in the storm's relentless assault.

As the rain pours down in relentless sheets and the sky is intermittently illuminated by flashes of lightning, she finds herself lost in worry. Hours have slipped by since her sister embarked on her ride, and with each passing minute, concern gnaws at her like a persistent ache. In the midst of such tumultuous weather, her sister should have returned by now.

Where could she be? What if something has gone wrong out there in the storm’s fury?

Anxious tendrils grip her as she leans in closer to Jungkook, her voice trembling with concern. “Kook, I’m really worried about my sister. She should have been back by now,” she confides, her words laced with a sense of urgency. Jungkook’s eyes widen in alarm, his grip tightening on the beer bottle as he absorbs her distress.

As she gazes out the window, her heart lurches at the sight of a panicked Mikrokosmos darting around the yard. “Mikrokosmos is running wild out there, but still no sign of my sister. This can’t be good,” she murmurs, urgency coloring her voice as she hastily slips into her boots and jacket. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Jungkook is right by her side, his expression mirroring her concern as they prepare to investigate.

Jessi manages to soothe Mikrokosmos, her fingers gently curling around the reins. “Easy, girl,” she murmurs, her voice a soft reassurance in the midst of the storm.

She strokes Mikrokosmos’ mane, her touch a comforting anchor in the chaos of the storm. “Easy, girl,” she whispers, her voice a soothing melody amidst the thunderous symphony. “Steady, now,” she repeats, her words a gentle plea for calmness.

She whirls around to face Jungkook, urgency etched across her features. “This isn’t good. Where’s my sister?” Her voice quivers with worry, each word punctuated by the pounding rain outside, echoing the frantic beat of her heart.

Jungkook pivots, his eyes widening at the sight of Soo-ah hurtling from her cottage. “What’s Mikrokosmos doing here alone?” His voice is laced with concern, mirroring the panic in Soo-ah’s expression.

Jessi relinquishes the reins to Soo-ah, her voice trembling with worry. “I think something has happened to my sister, otherwise Mikrokosmos wouldn’t be here alone. Can you please take her into the stables, calm her down, and we’ll search for my sister?”

Soo-ah seizes the reins with determination and offers Jessi a firm nod, leading Mikrokosmos over to the stables. Jessi’s expression is etched with concern as she turns to Jungkook, her brow furrowed in deep distress.

“Let’s go look for her, she shouldn’t be out in this weather,” With urgency etched in his voice, he clasps her hand firmly, a silent promise of support. Together, they hustle to his truck, determination fueling their actions as they race back to Bell Ranch, intent on rallying more help to find you.

They dash through the rain-drenched yard, urgency in each step as they burst into the house where Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi lounge in front of the TV, oblivious to the mounting concern etched on Jungkook and Jessi’s faces.

Urgency floods Jungkook’s voice as he interrupts their tranquility. “Guys, Jess’ sister is missing. We need your help to find her,” he implores, his words slicing through the calm of the room like a thunderbolt.

Jimin’s muscles tense, his expression darkening with concern as his heart quickens its pace. Yoongi springs from the couch with such urgency that he should feel lightheaded. In a synchronized rush, the trio leaps into action, snatching up their boots and jackets.

The weather outside is relentless, the midday darkness accentuated by the unyielding rain and gray skies, enveloping everything in a shroud of cold, damp chill.

Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension, his hand already reaching for the keys to his truck. “Should we split into groups of two or three?” he suggests, urgency lacing his words like a silent plea for swift action.

Jessi’s voice holds authority, her words cutting through the air like a command. “I think two are fine,” she concedes, her tone firm and resolute. “But you’re not driving.” Her finger jabs towards Jimin, swiftly snatching the keys from his grasp and passing them to Yoongi with an unyielding resolve.

Jimin’s expression shifts from disbelief to begrudging acceptance as he grapples with Jessi’s unexpected assertion. Despite his initial astonishment, a flicker of understanding ignites within him, and he obediently trails after his brother and Jessi, braving the torrential rain outside.

Yoongi and Hoseok climb into Jimin’s trusty blue truck, equipped with a walkie-talkie in hand, their fingers poised to establish a connection with Jungkook, Jimin, and Jessi in the other vehicle. As they settle in, the anticipation in the air is palpable, their shared determination driving them forward into the unknown.

Yoongi’s voice crackles over the walkie-talkie, edged with concern, as he asks, “Do we have any idea which direction she might have gone?” His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of uncertainty, echoing the urgency of their search.

Jessi’s voice crackles with determination over the line as she directs the plan, “We’re clueless about her direction. Let’s split up – you take the eastern side, we’ll cover the western.” Meanwhile, Jungkook twists the key in the ignition, setting the window wipers to a frantic rhythm. Jimin, gripped by worry, perches on the edge of his seat in the back, craning forward over the center console to scan the rain-soaked landscape ahead.

They embark on their respective routes, traversing the treacherous terrain of the rugged hills. The landscape is unyielding, but the sturdy trucks with four-wheel drive prove to be invaluable companions. Jungkook guides their vehicle with practiced precision, a stark contrast to the frantic urgency of their previous search when Jessi was missing. This time, he maneuvers cautiously, each movement deliberate, mindful of the perilous conditions and determined to avoid any mishaps.

Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension in the truck's cabin, his impatience palpable. “Can’t you drive faster?” he urges his brother from the back seat, his anxiety mounting with each passing moment.

Jungkook’s tone carries a hint of frustration as he scuffs, “No, this terrain isn’t really made for fast driving. And relax. We’ll find her,” his words a gentle reassurance amidst the mounting worry.

Jimin huffs impatiently in the back seat, realizing there’s nothing much to do but wait until they find you. Each passing moment heightens his concern, hoping against hope that you’re safe amidst the storm and uncertainty.

Jessi turns to Jimin, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere in the truck. “That ring you bought a while back, is it just collecting dust, or do you plan on giving it to her soon?” Her directness adds another layer of urgency to the situation, hinting at the unresolved emotions lingering between him and you.

Jungkook chuckles beside her, a brief moment of lightness amidst the tension, yet his gaze remains fixed on the rugged path ahead, emphasizing the gravity of the situation they’re in.

Jimin stumbles over his words, his voice strained with uncertainty. “I just don’t think now’s the right time,” he admits, his words tinged with the weight of recent events. “This whole thing with Deiji and then your sister breaking up with me, I don’t think it would be appropriate.” His voice trails off, the unfinished sentence hanging heavy with unspoken emotions.

She scoffs, her tone laced with incredulity. “Appropriate?” Her disbelief echoes through the cabin, challenging Jimin’s hesitation with a raw intensity.

She turns her whole body in her seat to face Jimin, her eyes ablaze with urgency. “I’m sorry, but this whole thing with Deiji is hella suspicious. And you love my sister, right? She loves you too. She’s almost sick, because she broke up with you, did you know that?” Her words hang heavy in the air, charged with a blend of concern and accusation, demanding a response from Jimin.

Jimin’s eyes widen at her words, a mix of surprise and guilt flashing across his face, but he remains silent, his thoughts swirling like a tempestuous sea, grappling with the weight of her accusations.

“She doesn’t eat properly anymore. She’s lost weight, she’s not sleeping— shall I keep going?” She crosses her arms, her voice edged with a mixture of concern and frustration. This whole thing just makes her mad. She hates seeing her favorite people hurt like this, consumed by a storm of emotions that threatens to engulf them both.

“Oh, did you know she cries herself to sleep every night?” she adds, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and vulnerability, as if she’s revealing a secret that should have remained buried.

Jimin’s breath catches at her revelation, his eyes widening in shock. “I didn’t know,” he admits, his voice tinged with guilt and regret.

“Listen, I don’t know why she can’t talk to you,” Jessi continues, her tone a blend of frustration and concern. “But having Deiji around makes it incredibly tough for her— and I’m not suggesting you abandon her or your future child. However, finding a balance that allows space for my sister without causing her this kind of pain might be worth considering.”

“But she’s made it clear she’s not ready for kids,” Jimin murmurs, his voice barely audible over the increasingly rough terrain.

“It’s not just any kid, Jimin, it’s hers, for heaven’s sake! Can’t you see the weight of that?” she practically scolds him, her voice firm and resounding with frustration.

Jimin is rendered speechless—his mind swirling with conflicting emotions, leaving him utterly at a loss for words.

“You really hurt her when you started dating Deiji, you know. When you shut her out, assuming she was with Yoongi,” she adds, her voice laced with a raw intensity, fighting for you, voicing the unspoken turmoil you’re grappling with. “She loves you deeply, but I’m certain Deiji triggers memories she’d rather bury.” She pivots back, her tone searing with frustration. “And why the fuck would you do that? Why couldn’t you just talk to her?”

Jimin’s gaze locks onto hers, his eyes widening with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability, as if on the brink of tears. “I know I behaved poorly. I—I don’t know, I was just consumed by jealousy. I know I was petty.”

Jessi nods, her expression softening with empathy. “See, you were jealous and didn’t speak to her. Now she’s jealous and doesn’t speak to you. Do you see a pattern here?” Her words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of truth, urging Jimin to confront the echoes of his own actions.

Jimin nods, his heart heavy with a mix of gratitude and remorse, appreciating both the insight and the gentle reprimand from Jessi.

“Now. If you don’t get your shit together and talk to her, I’m going to ask your little brother to beat your ass up,” she teases, a playful grin lighting up her face. Her hand finds its way to his thigh, a reassuring squeeze emphasizing her point. “But seriously, she’s going to be alright, and you’re going to talk to her.”

Jungkook’s laughter fills the truck cabin, and Jimin nervously bites his lip, but he nods in acknowledgment to your sister’s words. He’s well aware that he needs to have that conversation with you, even though attempts in the past have been met with avoidance on your part. It’s clear that seeing Deiji has been a trigger for you, and the realization hits him hard. He's caused you so much pain, put you through hell, and it's a weight he can't bear. This isn’t how it should be, and he knows he needs to find a way to make things right.

As the rain continues to pour relentlessly, the passage of time becomes a blur, lost in the rhythm of the storm pounding against the truck's windshield.

“Have you had any luck?” Jessi’s voice crackles through the walkie talkie, a lifeline in the storm, as she eagerly seeks any sign of hope or progress.

“Not yet.” Yoongi's voice cuts through the static, tinged with a hint of frustration, indicating the ongoing struggle and the uncertainty of the situation.

Suddenly, Jimin’s voice crackles with urgency, breaking the tension in the truck. “I think I see something—over there, by that bush!” His finger jabs towards a dark figure, barely discernible amidst the downpour, a beacon of hope in the relentless storm.

Jungkook steers the truck towards the figure, the engine growling with determination. As they draw nearer, their headlights cutting through the rain, the silhouette resolves into a familiar form—there you are, huddled against the elements, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, each tremble echoing their worry.

With a surge of relief, Jessi flips on the walkie talkie, her voice slicing through the storm like a beacon of hope. “We’ve found her!” Her words, charged with emotion, resonate through the static, breaking through the tension like a ray of sunlight through dark clouds.

Yoongi’s voice carries a wave of relief, cutting through the tension like a soothing melody. “Thank god,” he exhales, his words echoing the collective sentiment of the group, a chorus of gratitude amid the storm’s fury.

Despite the lingering heat, your body trembles, a stark contrast to the relentless downpour that now subsides, replaced by a calm silence broken only by the soft patter of raindrops.

In the distance, headlights cut through the gloom, bouncing over the rugged landscape, gradually growing larger and clearer. As the familiar black truck draws near, a wave of relief floods your weary and trembling form, soothing your frayed nerves.

The truck grinds to a halt just a stone’s throw away, and in an instant, three figures spill out onto the rain-soaked earth: Jungkook, your steadfast sister, and Jimin, his urgency palpable in every stride.

Jimin sprints to your side with an urgency that echoes his concern, his strides propelled by an undeniable determination. His embrace envelops you, a reassuring anchor amidst the storm. “How are you holding up?” he implores, his voice a blend of worry and relief. You offer a nonchalant shrug, masking the turmoil within. “Could be worse,” you reply, your words betraying the weight of your ordeal.

Your sister’s gaze scans you intently, her eyes mapping every contour, searching for any sign of harm. “What happened?” she inquires, her voice edged with concern. “Mikrokosmos returned without you.” Her words hang in the air, punctuated by the gravity of the situation, each syllable laden with the weight of unanswered questions and looming danger.

“The thunder spooked her and I fell off,” you explain, feeling Jimin’s firm hand pulling you upright. The words spill from your lips, mingling with the pattering rain as you recount the moment of panic and disarray.

“Any injuries?” He inquires, his eyes scanning you with the same meticulous care as your sister had done moments before. Yet, to your relief, there isn’t a single scratch or bruise to be found on your body.

“I-I just feel sore,” you manage, your voice tinged with discomfort, the chill of the rain making your words stutter slightly. Jimin immediately envelops you in his arms once more, leading you gently towards his brother’s truck. Your sister, too, lends her support, her gaze fixed on you with concern. As you glance down, you catch a glimmer from her left hand, and there, amidst the rain, you spot something sparkling.

“What’s that?” You inquire, your voice a mixture of curiosity and exhaustion as they guide you back towards the truck, their arms offering steadying support.

“What?” your sister inquires, her brows furrowing slightly as she holds the door open for you to climb into the backseat.

“That ring on your finger,” you observe, noting the flush creeping up her cheeks. She attempts to conceal her hand, but it’s too late—you’ve already caught sight of it. With gentle insistence, you grasp her hand and bring it closer for inspection. A delicate gold band adorned with a simple white stone gleams in the dim light, its beauty striking you. Glancing at Jungkook, you’re met with a tender expression, silently affirming the significance of the moment.

“You proposed to her?” You inquire, your voice catching on the brink of tears, emotions swirling within you—a mix of overwhelming joy and heartfelt sentiment.

His laughter dances in the air as he admits, “I did,” his grin radiating warmth, all while your sister playfully attempts to wrest her hand from your firm grasp.

“When did this happen?” Inquisitively, you pivot between them, anticipation lacing your voice. Their eyes momentarily break contact, drawn down to the damp earth beneath them, as if searching for the right words amidst the glistening droplets.

“A week ago,” Her admission comes in a hushed tone, tinged with a hint of regret, the weight of secrecy palpable in the air. It's as though the words have been lodged in her throat for days, finally finding release, yet carrying with them the burden of silence she bore for an entire week.

“And you didn’t tell me?” You exhale a mix of disbelief and hurt, your incredulous gaze bouncing between them like a pinball in motion. Reluctantly, you yield to Jimin and your sister's gentle insistence, allowing them to guide you into the shelter of the backseat, away from the relentless downpour. With a comforting presence, Jimin settles beside you, while your sister and Jungkook join you in the truck, cocooning you in a blend of warmth and unspoken apologies.

“We wanted to tell you,” your sister starts, her voice carrying a blend of sincerity and hesitation, mingling with the hum of the engine as Jungkook maneuvers the truck down the hill, steering back towards home.“We just didn’t want to make you sad, so I didn’t wear the ring, until today…” she continues, her eyes betraying a sadness mirrored in your own conflicted emotions. You wrestle with the complexity of her consideration, torn between gratitude for her sensitivity and the ache of your own hidden sorrow. After all, shouldn’t you be thrilled for them? Yet, beneath the surface, your heart echoes with a quieter, more personal ache, one that whispers of your own unspoken battles with sadness and despair.

“Why would you make me sad? It makes me sad that you’ve been hiding it from me,” you lament, a tinge of frustration coloring your words as you grapple with the chill seeping through your sodden attire, clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Each droplet feels like a weight, echoing the heaviness of the withheld truth, leaving you to mire in a mix of emotions, neither warm nor settled.

Sensing your shivers, Jimin swiftly sheds his jacket, enfolding you in its warmth with a tender gesture, a shield against the biting cold that had crept beneath your skin.

“I only wanted to spare you from pain,” your sister’s voice softens, regret lacing each syllable as she meets your gaze, her words heavy with remorse. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

You nod, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Despite the sadness clouding your heart, you grasp onto the flicker of happiness for your loved ones. It sucks that she didn’t tell you, but you do understand why she did it.

Your gaze shifts to Jimin, a whirlwind of unspoken words swirling within you, a thousand thoughts clamoring for attention. Each thought jostles for prominence, yet amidst the chaos, you find yourself lost in the labyrinth of your own mind, grappling with the weight of unsaid feelings, uncertain where to begin or how to articulate the storm raging within.

“Thank you for the jacket,” Gratitude tumbles from your lips for the jacket, a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm of silence that has grown between you, though its weight feels heavier with unspoken tension. There’s an unfamiliar air, thick with unresolved emotions, a palpable unease that lingers like an unwelcome guest. You’ve been avoiding him, grappling with the aftermath of your decision to end things, haunted by the specter of his past relationship and the fragility of your own heart, torn between the longing for reconciliation and the fear of further heartbreak.

“You’re welcome. And I’m sorry,” Jimin murmurs, his gaze a tender caress as he studies you intently, as if attempting to decipher the intricate layers of your being. You can’t help but wonder if he notices the shadows beneath your eyes, heavier now than before, or if he sees the telltale signs of your daily tears etched upon your swollen, puffy face. Does he perceive the subtle changes in your physique, the way your clothes hang looser, mirroring the weight of your burdened heart? In the depths of his gaze, you question if he glimpses the essence of your soul, the silent yearning for his touch, for the rekindling of his boundless love that once enveloped you in warmth and security.

“What for?” You inquire, a soft sniffle punctuating your words, yet your gaze remains unwavering, locked onto the depths of his captivating brown eyes. In that moment, a wave of longing washes over you, the realization of your own foolishness crashing against the shores of your consciousness. You’ve yearned for him in his absence, now understanding the foolishness of your pride. Love pulses within you, a beacon amidst the stormy seas of doubt, begging the question: shouldn't love be reason enough? Isn't it the only thing that truly matters in the end?

“For treating you so poorly. For every misstep, every hurtful word, every moment of silence that drove a wedge between us, for dating Deiji, for not realizing how much it all has hurt you,” he confesses, his voice a fragile whisper teetering on the edge of remorse. Tears glisten in his eyes, a testament to the depth of his regret. His trembling hand finds solace in the curve of your cheek, tenderly cupping it as if to anchor himself amidst the tempest of his emotions. You yield to his touch, the warmth and softness of his hand a balm to your wounded soul, melting away the barriers that had stood between you, allowing you to surrender to the familiar comfort of his embrace.

“I’ve been unbelievably foolish, and I’m utterly sorry,” his voice catches in his throat, the weight of his remorse evident as a tear breaks free from his lashes, tracing a silent path down his cheek. “I never meant to hurt you like this,” he confesses, each word heavy with regret. “I love you so much,” he whispers, the depth of his affection echoing in the tremor of his voice, a testament to the sincerity of his devotion.

“I know you broke up with me because you’re not ready to have kids, and I completely understand that,” his hand intertwines with yours, a lifeline in the tumult of emotions that swirl between you. His gaze searches yours, seeking understanding, seeking reassurance, perhaps seeking forgiveness. “But I can’t shake the feeling that we belong together— I want you back,” he confesses, his voice a soft plea tinged with hope. “I love you, and I believe in us. I never imagined this path for us, but I truly believe we can navigate it together,” he asserts, his grip on your hand tightening as if to anchor his resolve. “And the child, she’ll have her own home with Deiji,” he adds, a note of reassurance in his voice, as if to alleviate any concerns that lingered in your heart.

“I got your letter,” you murmur, your tone laden with emotion, observing the shock that washes over his face.

“How?” His voice quivers slightly, betraying the turmoil raging within him, and a pang of guilt washes over you as you realize you probably shouldn’t have read the letter, especially since he didn’t give it to you personally.

Your gaze shifts towards Jungkook, and Jimin instinctively follows the direction of your eyes, noting the scuffs, before returning his attention to you. “I meant every word I wrote in it,” he declares, his tone unwavering despite the vulnerability in his eyes.

As you nod, waves of his love wash over you, intertwining with your own affection and flooding your veins with a warmth that knits together the fragments of your once-scattered heart.

Your heart flutters within its cage of ribs, caught in a dance of uncertainty and longing. His words resonate with you, stirring a flicker of hope in the depths of your soul, yet doubt lingers like a shadow at dusk. You’re torn, teetering on the precipice of indecision, but amidst the turmoil, one truth remains steadfast: your love for him burns unwaveringly, an eternal flame that illuminates the darkness of doubt. And in that flicker of certainty, you find solace, trusting that love, in all its complexities, will guide you through the labyrinth of uncertainty.

“Okay.” The word escapes your lips like a fragile whisper, hanging in the air like the delicate balance of a teetering scale. In the ensuing silence that envelops the truck, you observe the shift in Jimin’s expression, his features morphing into a silent query, a question mark etched upon his face, seeking to decipher the weight of your response and the myriad emotions swirling within you.

“What do you mean?” Jimin’s voice breaks the silence, tinged with confusion, his brows furrowing in bewilderment at your curt response. His inquiry hangs in the air, an invitation to unravel the enigma of your brief words, beckoning you to delve deeper into the intricacies of your thoughts and feelings.

“I want us to be together again,” you confess, your gaze locked with his, the shimmer of tears mirroring the depth of his remorse. Yet amidst the regret, his love for you radiates like a beacon, casting aside the shadows of doubt. You can’t deny the intensity of your own affection, a love that courses through your veins, unwavering and undeniable. It’s as if destiny itself has woven your souls together, an unbreakable bond that transcends time and distance, a truth you've known since the moment your eyes first met after all those years apart.

Without hesitation, Jimin closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a fervent embrace. The kiss is hurried, tinged with the salt of his tears, yet you savor every moment, for his touch ignites a fire within you, reigniting the vibrant hues of your world. In the warmth of his embrace, you feel the dull ache of sadness dissipate, replaced by the kaleidoscope of emotions that accompany the return of his affection. It’s as if life’s dull monochrome has been replaced with a symphony of colors, painting your world anew.

Rekindling your relationship with Jimin has been more than just good—it’s been a revival of your soul. With him by your side, you feel whole once more, the missing piece of your heart seamlessly slotting back into place. Despite the challenges that still loom on the horizon, you find solace in the simple truth that you have each other to rely on, to support and uplift in times of need.

As two full moons have passed, the looming prospect of Deiji’s imminent labor hangs heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the complexities that have woven themselves into your life. Despite the passage of time, your disdain for her remains unyielding, fueled by a nagging sense of distrust that refuses to be quelled. You’ve voiced your suspicions to Jimin, laying bare the unsettling behaviors that gnaw at your conscience—her reluctance to reveal the results of the paternity test, the cryptic details surrounding her medical appointments, the sudden refusal to allow Jimin to accompany her, especially after your request to see the test results. With each revelation, Jimin’s eyes begin to open to the unsettling truth lurking beneath Deiji’s facade.

A creeping suspicion takes root within you, whispering the unsettling possibility that Deiji’s claims may be nothing more than elaborate fabrications. The thought lingers like a shadow in your mind, casting doubt upon the foundation of your reality. While a part of you entertains the notion that perhaps she never carried Jimin’s child at all, the implications of such deceit weigh heavily upon your conscience. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, the idea that unraveling her web of lies could potentially simplify your life, yet the thought of the devastation it would bring to Jimin is a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between truth and consequence.

In the face of adversity, you and Jimin are actively striving to strengthen your communication skills, recognizing the tendency to retreat into your own worlds when challenges arise. Both of you understand the paramount importance of articulating your thoughts and feelings openly and honestly, realizing that true connection and understanding can only flourish in the fertile soil of effective communication.

And so, you find yourself once more within the comforting confines of his home, the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafting through the air, stirring your appetite and igniting a sense of eager anticipation. As hungry as you were during your previous visit, this time the atmosphere is charged with a newfound warmth and intimacy, infusing the meal with an extra layer of significance. With each bite, you’re not only nourishing your body but also savoring the love and care that your boyfriend has poured into the culinary creation before you.

“Jimin, this looks absolutely mouthwatering,” you exclaim, your fork poised eagerly above the food, ready to indulge in the culinary masterpiece before you.

“Thanks, I hope it tastes as good as it looks,” he replies, a radiant smile gracing his features as he joins you in savoring the meal he's prepared with care.

The first bite is an explosion of flavors on your palate, a symphony of tastes that dance and mingle, leaving you craving more. It’s a culinary masterpiece, each ingredient harmonizing perfectly to create a sensation that delights every sense. This incredible man’s cooking never fails to amaze, leaving you in awe of his talent and grateful for the privilege of tasting his creations.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” he interjects between bites, his expression thoughtful as he pauses to address the topic weighing on his thoughts.

Locked in a gaze brimming with boundless affection, you find yourself lost in the depths of his eyes, a silent exchange of love and understanding passing between you. With a gentle nod, you encourage him to continue, your heart swelling with anticipation for the words he’s about to share.

“I’ve been thinking about the arrival of the baby,” he begins, his eyes alight with curiosity, sparking a smile to bloom across your face in response. “Do you think we should prepare a special room for her? And where do you think she should be sleeping?”

“I believe she should start off in our room, close to us, but later she can get her own room” you propose, a smile gracing your lips as you envision the cozy arrangement.

“Hmm. Good idea. Thank you for being so cool about it and wanting to do it with me,” he expresses, his eyes shimmering with affection as he extends his hand across the table, silently inviting you to join him in this journey.

You cover his hand with yours, gently tracing circles on his skin as you speak softly, “I don’t know if I’d call it being cool, but I’m doing my best to navigate this new territory.” Despite the uncertainty looming ahead, you offer him a reassuring smile, knowing that embarking on this co-parenting journey will undoubtedly present challenges. Yet, with Jimin by your side, you feel a sense of strength and reassurance, a reminder that together, you can weather any storm.

“Well, thank you. It means everything to me,” he murmurs, his voice laden with gratitude as he leans across the table, closing the gap between you to plant a tender kiss on your lips.

You draw back slightly, your hands tenderly cradling his face, locking eyes with him as you whisper, “I love you, Jimin,” the words carrying the weight of your devotion and the promise of forever.

A warm smile graces his lips in response to your declaration, a silent acknowledgment of the deep love you share. Returning to your meal, a comfortable silence descends upon you both, enveloping you like a soft embrace, a tranquil refuge from the chaos of the world outside.

Raising your gaze, you wait patiently for his eyes to meet yours, the urgency of your words evident in your expression. “I truly believe you need to have a conversation with Deiji,” you urge, a sense of unease settling in your stomach. “There’s something off about all of this, something I can’t quite decipher,” you add, your voice laced with concern and the unspoken weight of intuition.

Jimin nods solemnly, his brows furrowing in concern. “You’re right. It’s been bothering me too. She’s been unresponsive to my texts lately,” he admits, his voice tinged with apprehension and a growing sense of unease.

“Perhaps it’s time to pay her a visit and have a heart-to-heart conversation,” you propose, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

“That sounds like a good idea,” he responds eagerly, his eyes alight with determination. With a renewed sense of purpose, you both continue to savor the meal, engaging in light-hearted conversation as you contemplate the impending discussion with Deiji.

For an entire week, communication between you and Jimin has been scarce, lost amidst the whirlwind of chores and responsibilities that accompany life on your respective ranches. From dawn till dusk, your days blur together with the relentless tasks of sheep shearing, cattle herding, and countless other duties demanding your attention. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, leaving little energy for anything beyond the essential exchanges of ‘goodbye’ and ‘good morning’ shared over the phone, a stark reminder of the physical and emotional toll of your demanding lifestyles.

Tonight is one of those nights when every muscle in your body aches with weariness, longing for the soothing touch of Jimin’s hands to unravel the knots of tension and stress that cling stubbornly to your frame. The thought of sinking into the warm embrace of his oversized bathtub offers a glimmer of solace amidst the weariness, a sanctuary where the trials of ranch life can be temporarily forgotten. Despite feeling battered and bruised, the exhaustion of the day weighs heavy upon you, dragging you into the welcoming arms of sleep within mere minutes.

You’re unsure of how long you’ve been lost in slumber, but a peculiar scent and an eerie sound stir you from your rest. As consciousness slowly returns, your head feels heavy and your senses are muddled, the faint aroma of something resembling a campfire teasing your nostrils. The source of the scent eludes you, shrouded in the fog of fatigue that clouds your mind, as the haunting creak of wood contracting fills the air, sending a shiver down your spine.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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