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#I wish they never got back together in season 2 because I really feel like Gyrus fucked Kodya over
mrsbsmooth · 5 hours
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I don't know if this is a safe space for me to share my opinion on S8 but I disagree with your take on WLW relationships in S8. As someone who is exclusively WLW, I've got to say that Season 8 is the worst season that I have ever played. It's not worth it. I regret every second that I have spent on it. I wish I never played it. I feel like I have wasted my time. Watching Claudia grind on Theo made me feel physically sick. If you're bi, you're automatically locked out of the WLW route and Bea dances for Claudia instead. If you're doing a WLW route, the two female LIs are merged together. There are only two female LIs and they're hidden behind a gem wall. You can't couple up with them until the final week. The male characters are forced on MC no matter how many times you reject them. Being LGBT is treated like a fun side mission. It's something you're only allowed to do behind closed doors. You can pay to make out with a girl in every episode and the other characters will keep pushing the OG guy and CA guy on you either way. If you're romancing a girl, you're made to feel like a cheater. The WLW routes in S8 are written to be a bonus thing for bi women to do once they finish the good routes. They are not written to be the main course. The S8 WLW routes  are something to play around with but not something to commit to. S5 was no fun but at least we could be in an unofficial relationship with Dana and we could choose to befriend Alfie. We could couple up with Vicky in S7. S8 is like S6 but somehow even worse. The openly homophobic and racist comments that I have seen some straight players make about Bea and Hari are only making it harder to feel accepted. What hurts the most is that MC was a bombshell and she was not coupled up with her OG LI before the Casa. They could have let us pick a female LI the moment MC walked into the Villa. There was no better way to justify a WLW main route. The way they waste Luna and Felicity is unbelievable. I wouldn't recommend S8 to anyone who isn't super into the male LIs
Hi lovely, of course!! Always happy to hear a different opinion as long as they're respectfully put, which yours absolutely is, and as long as you don't mind me disagreeing back!
[Note: Sarah's just pointed out to me that you asked for a safe space and my response doesn't really do that and just disagrees with you. She's right, and I apologise for not being clearer about the fact I was planning to do so when I hit post. But you are always welcome to share your opinion here. I can't guarantee a safe space, but I can guarantee an open mind.] Because I do genuinely believe that the WLW routes in S8 are better than they have been previously.
I'm not going to be addressing homophobic and racist comments about Bea and Hari. My advice for those? Stay the hell off Reddit. I'm not getting into the way this fandom talks about race, especially for Asian islanders. I just want to talk about the WLW routes as that was the main point of your ask.
I want to make sure I've acknowledged and responded to everything you said, so please see below.
[This got long AF. TL;DR at the end.]
Locked out of routes, and Male LIs being forced on you
This isn't new to this season, and in my opinion it's been done dramatically better than previous seasons. I've played all of them, and almost every single season holds the female LI back until the end. Marisol, Elisa, Najuma, Angie, Dana, Lulu, Bella, Chloe, Flo, Bonnie, I don't think you could couple up with a single one of them until the final recoupling. The only exceptions were S1 and S3, I think? I believe you could get with Talia slightly earlier (and have Sammi come in later as a LI for the guy who otherwise would be dumped), and AJ/Yasmin you could couple up with and make Tai and Ciaran get together. But that's only 2 seasons from 8.
(Note: I see you said you could couple up with Vicky in S7, and I'll be honest, I barely played S7 as I found the writing itself extremely lacklustre. So I'll have to take your word for it that they somehow made that work.)
I get that it's frustrating to be separated from a female LI until late game. It's a sentiment I've heard every single season since I started playing alongside the releases. But realistically, this is how the game is structured. Love Island, as a premise, is based on heterosexual relationships. Pairing off and being in heterosexual couples, etc. Same as something like 'the Bachelor'. Two female contestants could be together, sure. But that's not how the show is structured. The only real solutions have been in S1 and S3, both of which I've already mentioned. I'd love to see more MLM couples made canon, or creative ways of letting us couple with women earlier, but I don't think there's one simple solution. This particular show is aimed at het couples. As unfair as it may seem, that's how the game is structured. (Crossing my fingers for canon MLM couples. PLEASE!)
I also disagree that WLW routes are written to be a bonus thing for bi women to do once they finish the good routes. Claudia's route has been a main route since day one in the villa. The fact that you can only have a relationship with either Theo OR Claudia means they intended from the very beginning to have whichever one of that couple you choose be the slow burn route- the route that you can't get on until the very end.
To say that 'Watching Claudia grind on Theo made me physically sick'-- Congratulations and welcome to the slowburn route 😂 I feel exactly the same way when Theo REJECTS ME OUTRIGHT and says he's only interested in Claudia, or when Suresh's heartrate gets raised the most by Lulu, or when I finally couple with Jake and he tells me I should pursue Levi. Don't you think the fact that it's had such an impact on you shows how well-written she is as a female LI? Claudia is AMAZING. But she's also bisexual. She's allowed to be torn between a male and a female LI and want to explore relationships with both, and I don't think it's fair to be angry that she's playing out all her options. That just means she's a well-written bisexual character. (Side note may I remind you that you've been able to take Claudia to the hideaway, and sleep in a bed with her, whereas Theo girls were only able to KISS the dude for the first time within the last week!!!! 😭) I think the only canonical lesbian routes are Angie from S4 and A.J. from S3. But even so, they're both questioning while in-villa and only come out either towards the end or in the post-season. You can watch AJ's route on Youtube if you didn't get a chance to play. Also, you're not locked out of the WLW route if you're bi/into men. Only if you're interested in Theo specifically. This is definitely somewhere they could improve-- I wanted Theo and Claudia, but eventually went back to play a straight route for Theo. However, I DESPERATELY wanted to flirt with Bea. It would've been wonderful if we'd been able to flirt with her separately. (I think I did get this option, but I believe it may have been a glitch). An option early in the game when the female LI asks you could be:
Yes, I'm into you!
No, I'm not into you, but I might be into other women
No, I'm not into women.
The Female LIs are merging together
Welcome to Love Island the Game by Fusebox games, where all the love interests merge and the personalities don't matter. You're not alone here, and it's not NEARLY as bad as previous seasons. Watch Najuma, Bruno, and JAMES have exactly the same dialogue in S4 despite being wildly different personalities. Watch Lewie, Jamal and Ryan be completely interchangeable. This isn't exclusive to WLW routes.
The female LIs are hidden behind a gem wall.
Again, this is the same for everyone, even players on a straight route. FB are greedy.
Being LGBT is treated like a side mission
It's something you're only allowed to do behind closed doors. You can pay to make out with a girl in every episode
This is hard. I get why you feel like this, anon, I really do. But I genuinely do think that this is the devs trying to give you something. They know it's frustrating to have to wait so long to couple with a female LI, so they try and give you bonus opportunities along the way to connect with your love interest. Almost every single smut scene written in the scripts has a female alternative. Again, I'm not saying that it's perfect, but having looked at and manipulated the scripts for four seasons now, I can absolutely assure you that this has not always been the case. They ARE improving and giving you more opportunities to spend time with your female LI than you had in previous seasons.
TL;DR
I'm not saying S8 is a perfect season for WLW routes.
The part I'm disagreeing with is where you said it's the worst season.
I absolutely disagree with that. There are far worse seasons. Even the golden child Season 2 didn't let you couple up with a woman until right at the end, watching her graft and grind on everyone BUT you. We also don't even know for sure that we can't couple up with a girl until the last week. The game's still being released. (I won't be surprised if that's the case though.)
I think Claudia and Bea are EXCELLENT female love interests in comparison with what we've had previously. They're both beautiful, they have unique personalities, they have very different routes (Claudia's confused between you and Theo, Bea's your bestie to lover and she's got terrible taste in men, dear god please save her).
I understand WANTING more WLW routes, but from a development point of view, there are simply not enough opportunities in the real-life structure of LITG to have fully blown out WLW routes. They can't even get through the hetero routes without the characters merging personalities. There are other games doing this well, including fan-made games, which I'd recommend checking out. I don't have the link handy to the game pages, but check out @thatwheelchairchick, I believe she's working on an alternative game?
Anyway, I hope that clarifies my position on why I think they're worth playing. Sorry that it turned into an essay.
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My heart hurts so bad for Aziraphale because I can honestly just relate to him so, so, so much.
(not putting this one under a cut so warning season 2 ahead, I'll tag it at the bottom too)
Aziraphale says, "Nothing lasts forever," but I don't believe for a second he doesn't wish that it did.
He WANTS things to go back to how they used to be. He WANTS the seraphic Crowley squealing with joy as he cranks up the universal machine and sets the stars aflame. He WANTS there to be no sides, he WANTS to believe in the idea of the host united, he WANTS to go back before Crowley got himself in trouble by asking questions. He wants, I think, to be in that moment of creation and adoration forever.
Change seems to frighten him. There's an aspect of uncertainty. There's an element of chaos, the loss of control. I understand this deeply. And what the Metatron offered him was just that: certainty, control, the ability to dictate his own narrative.
I used to be in a toxic job. On top of it, I had intense anxiety and other undiagnosed neurodivergencies that made it even harder to fit in and understand the untold rules I was supposed to follow to get along. When I first got there, it wasn't so bad -- perhaps I was, like Aziraphale, also a bit idealistic. Then there were some changes that brought instability, significant more anxiety, and a lot of nights spent agonizing over my lack of control over it all.
My friends and significant other tried to convince me to leave, but I didn't want to. I didn't know what else was out there. I didn't know if it would be worse. I didn't know what kind of stability it would have.
Then my manager left, so that spot opened up. I had worked there for a long time, and honestly, I never saw myself going into management. I didn't think I could. I wasn't sure I even wanted to. All of that extra stress, on me? Not to mention, getting FURTHER into the job that was taking a massive toll on me? But then...
Then I would have control. Then I could run things the way *I* had always thought they should run. I wouldn't need to worry about who would replace my manager and whether my life would be a living hell -- I would make it what I wanted it to be. Upper management was really pushing for it, so I applied.
To make a long story short: I don't think it went very well. I didn't have the support I needed. I didn't have the emotional skills I needed. I think I did my best, but I'm not fond of those times. At the time, I was SURE that I wanted to move up even more, I was SURE this would make it all better. I thought this was what I REALLY wanted.
But that's not what I needed. What I needed was to get out, and eventually I did. Even as ready as I was to leave, it was absolutely agonizing. I could barely stand to handle the unknown. I was going to work together with my spouse, actually, and I was so excited for that, but I still... I still was upset and worried sick over the dramatic change that would befall my life, after I had made the decision to leave.
That's where I can relate to Aziraphale. I wonder what would've happened if, before I had actually left for good, the head honchos had come up to me and said, "We want to keep you -- how about we offer you (an even higher position)?" -- would I have said no, or would I have wanted to make a difference?
Funny, I said exactly that, too. That's almost why I didn't change jobs in the first place. I said, "But I feel like I'm really making a difference with what I'm doing now." But what pushed me over the edge was realizing that none of that mattered to them, it was all about THEIR control of ME, not the other way around.
I'm so intensely curious to see what happens with Aziraphale next, but I'm sure he will learn what Crowley understands: nothing lasts forever, and sometimes it's good that it doesn't -- even if sometimes we wish it did.
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moonstruckme · 7 months
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On Thin Ice
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
This was requested by anon, but I'm not including the request because I'm going to write at least one more part and I don't want to spoil anything. But thanks so much for requesting, anon my love! I'm really having fun with it :) Also, just a disclaimer that I know next to nothing about figure skating, so while I tried to look most things up, there may be some inaccuracies
summary: when your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change
cw: mention of injury (no details), Sirius Black is a relentless flirt
Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 3.3k words
You want to be kinder to your friend, but you’re a bit angry with him. You’re not great at hiding it, either.
“It’s not like I can fucking help it.” Regulus rolls his eyes, and you do your best to undo the petulant pout of your lips. 
“I know,” you sigh. “I know that. I’m sorry, it’s just, seriously? Why can’t Coach give me someone else?”
“You know why.” 
You blow out another huffy breath, because you do know, but that doesn’t make you like it any better. Sirius is our best bet, your coach had told you, firm and impassive to your protests. He’s great on the ice, he always scores well, and Reg can teach him the routine while they’re at home. If we used anyone else, we’d lose time while they learned it. You’d sulked, and he’d given you a stern look. So suck it up. 
And you’re trying. Kind of. You wouldn’t ordinarily consider yourself an ill-tempered person, but Sirius Black brings out the worst in you. Always has. He’s Regulus’ irritating older brother, always around to pull your pigtails when you were little and make fun of everything you and Reg enjoyed as you got older. And in everything you love about your best friend, Sirius is the opposite. Where Regulus is restrained, Sirius is brash; where Regulus is content with a few close friends, Sirius needs an entire posse around him at all times; where Regulus has a quick, quiet wit, Sirius seems to feel a joke isn’t worth telling if everyone can’t hear it. He’s loud and facetious and insufferable, and now he’s your partner in the most intimate routine you’ve ever done.
“I know,” you groan again, falling back onto Regulus’ bed. “I just wish I could change it. Who do I have to bribe to get you a miracle recovery?”
Regulus scoffs, but he lies down beside you sympathetically. “The doctor said it should be better by next season, but a fractured ankle doesn’t fix itself in a couple weeks.” His voice turns bitter. “Trust me, I asked.” 
You wince guiltily. You’re not the only one suffering from Regulus’ incapacity. You’d both been practicing this routine for weeks. It was one of the most challenging and showy either of you have ever done. You were both supposed to have the chance to really shine, showing off your skills with complicated jumps and throws, some of which you’d never attempted before. But now Reg wouldn’t get the change.
Ironically, it had been a fairly simple routine that had taken him down. One of your go-tos. You’d been performing it together for years, but maybe that sense of security was dangerous too. It’s too easy to land wrong, and one tiny slip had fractured Regulus’ ankle right in the middle of competition, forcing your coach to come help you get him off the ice. 
You’d cried more than he had as the on-site medics had inspected it, completely unhelpful but unable to bear seeing your best friend’s features twisted in agony. It turned out that was nothing compared to the look on his face when they’d told him he wouldn’t be able to skate on it for months. 
“How does it feel?” you ask, more gently now, and Regulus’ scowl softens in response. “Does it still hurt all of the time?”
“Not really, only when I walk on it. And they said I should be able to do that without much pain soon, just no jumping or anything.” 
Your heart aches with sympathy, and you have to resist the urge to reach over and touch his hand, his hair. Regulus has never much liked being touched, which you understand, but it makes him a difficult person to comfort. You resort to your method with the highest success rate: distraction. 
“Well, at least the cast is a fun accessory,” you say, forcing levity into your voice. “We could draw on it, it’ll be like having tattoos.” 
“Pass,” Reg replies disinterestedly. “Tattoos are more my brother’s aesthetic than mine.”  
“Ugh.” You roll your eyes, unable to stopper your irritation at the return of the conversation to Sirius. “Do you think Coach will let me have a new partner if I kneecap him?”
“If you’re going to kneecap someone,” comes a cool voice from the open doorway, “it’s probably best not to ponder your scheme so loudly in their house.” 
You raise your head to find Sirius leaning against the door frame, arms crossed insouciantly in front of his chest. He looks at you with the eyes he shares with his brother, but where Regulus’ tend towards cool grayness, Sirius’ always seem to waver between gray and blue, like the sky during a storm. They’re flashing now, amusement mingled with cunning, as you meet them with a glare. 
“Maybe I’m just giving you a red herring,” you say smoothly, “so you’ll never see my actual plan coming.” 
“I wouldn’t put it past you, shortcake,” Sirius replies, grinning when your face goes hot at the nickname, “but I think I’ll start wearing protective gear just in case. Reg, think you could revoke this one’s key until after the competition?”
Regulus pretends to contemplate this, staring up at the ceiling. “No, she’ll only start coming in through my window again.” You grin at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches in response, remembering all the cuts and bruises you used to have when you were younger from climbing the old tree outside his window, late at night when you were both supposed to be asleep. The first few times you’d tried, rotting branches had broken and fallen from beneath you, but you’d kept at it until you’d plotted a safe course. You’re sure Reg would have snuck downstairs to let you in the front door if you’d ask him, but better you get in trouble than him. “Anyway, it’ll be entertaining to watch.” 
“Whatever happened to brotherly loyalty?” Sirius feigns hurt, but gets past it quickly. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to keep in mind that if I can’t perform, there won’t be a performance. I’ve already learnt half the routine, and I think you might struggle to find someone else skilled enough to catch up in time.” He winks at you, and you scoff, pointedly unaffected. “So I’ll see you at practice on Monday, sunshine,” he gloats, and disappears down the hallway. 
You wait until you hear the click of his door to lay back down, passing a hand over your face exhaustedly. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with that all of the time,” you moan. 
Regulus chuckles wryly. “Welcome to my world.” 
☆ ☆ ☆
“Y/N,” Coach calls frustratedly. “You have to let him throw you, not jump.” 
You’ve almost just followed in Regulus’ footsteps for the upteenth time today, which isn’t exactly in line with your plan of getting Sirius injured, but you figure will do in a pinch. The truth is, your focus has been off all day. Switching to a new partner is always hard; you’re used to Regulus, you’ve spent years learning how to skate together, to anticipate the other’s movements, and finding that rhythm with another person takes work. But learning how to skate with Sirius is more challenging than even you had expected. He’s distracting, for one thing. He keeps smiling at you, making faces when you mess up, and whispering obnoxious little pointers when you’re in the middle of a complicated move. And his own movements are bigger and more elaborate than you’re used to, lacking Regulus’ control. You can see, objectively, how it works for him. It gives his performance that extra bit of artistry that Regulus has often been accused of needing, but it makes him more difficult to anticipate. He’s stronger than Reg, too, so he throws you higher, flings you farther, grips you tighter. It’s a lot to learn, but your coach doesn’t seem very sympathetic to your plight. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve wasted almost an entire day of practice and are undoing weeks of hard work learning the choreography with your repeated mistakes. 
You nod at him again, moving to reset, but Sirius slides in front of you. 
“Hey,” he says, “I can feel you tensing when I go to throw you. Is something wrong?”
You cross your arms in front of your chest, breath still puffing into the air between you from the exertion of your leap. “No,” you reply shortly. “I’ll fix it.” 
And really, you should have been able to fix it a dozen tries ago. You’ve practiced throws with Regulus for years now. You’re supposed to push down on Sirius’ shoulders, use the momentum of your spin to give you a little boost, and let him do the rest. But you can’t seem to manage the last part. Sirius’ hands on your waist had discomposed you from the first try, and you keep finding yourself trying to jump off the ground before he has a chance to lift you. It doesn’t work, you know it’s never going to work, but it’s like some fight-or-flight instinct takes over every time Sirius’ hands get close to you. You suspect it’s because you’re so used to Regulus’ touch aversion; this routine is meant to seem romantic, but between the two of you, it had always felt chaste, more about the mechanics of the movements than the meanings behind them. Sirius loves to be touched, though, probably too much. He teases you about how cold your hand is in his, the tentative way you touch his shoulder when you’re supposed to grip it, how you jolt a little when he rests his hand on the small of your back. You’re on edge every second he’s around you, which by the very nature of the routine, is often. 
And so you keep jumping, which causes Sirius’s throw to be stunted when he can’t get a good grip on you, which causes you to fumble your landing. Every. Time. 
“You can trust me, you know,” Sirius persists, looking half earnest for once in his life. “I’m not going to launch you too high or anything. Just let me do the work.” 
“I’ve got it,” you growl, and Sirius raises his hands in mocking surrender, moving out of your way. You glide back into position, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You don’t need his advice, you’ve been doing just fine without it for years. You’ll get it on your own. 
☆ ☆ ☆
“Why is it,” Regulus drawls, coming into your room, “that when you mess up at practice, it’s still my problem to solve?” He sits on the edge of your bed, careful not to disturb the open bottle of nail polish you’re using. “I’m not even your partner right now, but both Coach and Sirius are complaining to me that you can’t sync up with him.” 
You keep your eyes on your fingertips, sweeping the brush across your nails in careful, measured strokes. “I’m working on it.” 
“What’s the problem?” He sounds more puzzled than frustrated. “Sirius is annoying, but he’s not actually an asshole. He won’t sabotage you.” 
“I’m not accusing him of anything,” you say. “I just…I can’t get it right. I don’t know. He’s so different to you, and I can’t figure out how to make it work.” 
“Well, you’d better figure it out soon,” Regulus replies, not without sympathy. “There’s only a couple of weeks until comp, and it seems like the both of you will need all the practice you can get together.”
You know he’s right, and that’s exactly what you’re dreading.
☆ ☆ ☆
The next practice goes about the same, the only difference being your coach’s mounting exasperation. Actually, no, there is one other change: Sirius’ movements become smoother, more sure, as he grows increasingly familiar with the choreography. 
So basically, he’s getting better while you’re getting worse. 
Though you all know there’s no time to waste with the competition coming up, Coach ends practice early in his irritation, letting you go with strict instructions to get your shit together before you meet again tomorrow. You promise him you’ll try, though you’re both coming to know that won’t be enough. 
You take your time unlacing your skates, shrugging on your jacket and stopping to buy a hot chocolate from the vendor up front before going out into the brisk autumn air. You’d started this new routine after your first practice with Sirius, stalling so that he’d have a head start and you wouldn’t have to walk home in the same direction, but you take two steps outside before you realize your plan has been foiled. 
“Coach will kill you if he catches you with one of those,” you say, and the cherry of Sirius’ cigarette burns orange as he takes a drag, eyes lighting with playful defiance. 
He blows the smoke away from you. “You won’t tattle on me though, will you, sunshine?”
“Reg won’t like it either.” 
“He knows,” Sirius says, as though Regulus’ opinion is of little concern to him. “You took your time in there. Ready to go?”
You don’t try to keep the suspicion from your face. “You were waiting on me?”
“I figure we could use some extra practice.” He drops his cigarette, stamping it out half smoked. “If you’re not too tired, I mean.” You give him an indignant look, and Sirius grins. “C’mon, it’s too cold out here for those leggings.” 
You follow him reluctantly, sipping at your hot chocolate because damn it, he’s right. The wind had been cool when you’d gone into practice, but nightfall has stolen the little bit of warmth the sun provided. You wouldn’t be surprised if you woke tomorrow to find the trees prematurely bare of their leaves. 
The Blacks’ house isn’t far, and your eager pace gets you there in a hurry. You’re thinking you’ll go to Regulus’ room as soon as you get inside, ditching Sirius and whatever humiliation he has planned for you, but when you approach the house, every window is dark. 
“They’re at my aunt’s for dinner,” Sirius answers your unasked question, unlocking the door. “I begged off because of practice.” He laughs as you follow him inside. “Try not to look so happy about it, shortcake.” 
You roll your eyes, starting up the stairs that go to the bedrooms. “When will Reg be home?”
“Late.” Sirius’ voice is close behind you. “You’re welcome to wait for him, of course, but we may as well make use of the time.” On the top step, you whirl, relishing the opportunity to look down on him for once. 
“Fine. What are we doing here?”
You don’t know if you’d hoped he’d be intimidated, but Sirius appears as unbothered as always. “Like I said. Practice.” He brushes past you, leading the way into his bedroom. After a moment, you follow grudgingly.
Like everything about Sirius, his room is loud. Almost every inch of wall space is covered in band posters, medals from competitions, pictures of his friends. There are clothes strewn across the bed and shoes scattered about the floor, but if Sirius is even conscious of the mess, he doesn’t mention it. 
“What did you have in mind?” you ask.
Sirius turns, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re surprisingly determined. “We need to figure out whatever it is that’s been holding you up,” he says. “We’ve gotta get past it.”  
You feel like stomping your foot, but very maturely refrain. You’re about done with the subject of your failures for the day. “I don’t know what it is.” 
“I think you do,” Sirius says cooly. “Wanna know how I know?”
“How?”
He grins. “Because you just admitted it.” 
“You—I just asked how,” you splutter angrily. 
Sirius gives you a knowing look. “Right, so it has nothing to do with you being afraid of me touching you?”
Your face heats. How could he know that? You look at him for a moment, and he looks back at you with that cool, even gaze, like he thinks he’s got you all figured out. As much as you resent him for it, he’s right. You’ve got no shot at a decent score in this competition if you can’t get past your mental block around Sirius. “I’m not afraid.” You roll your eyes, downplaying the admission. “I’m just not used to it, okay? I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but you’re not exactly a carbon copy of my usual partner.” 
Sirius grins again, and for the first time you get the sense that he’s laughing with you instead of at you. “I have been made aware of that a few times over our lives, yes. But okay, you’re not used to it. Let’s get you used to it.” 
You cross your arms over your chest, not sure where he’s going with this but fairly sure you won’t like it. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, I’m going to throw you until you can handle it without flinching. Sound good?”
You look at him like he’s stupid. “The rink is closed, and there’s nowhere for me to land here.” 
“Sure there is.” Sirius pats his bed cheerfully. You stay right where you are. Something changes in his expression, and you think you might detect a bit of kindness behind his teasing tone. “C’mon, sweetheart. I don’t know what Reggie’s told you, but I don’t actually bite.” 
You huff, but go to stand in front of him. He’s shed his coat, revealing the plain black shirt underneath, and the sleeves grip his biceps. Even in the poor lamplight, you can see his eyes changing colors like schools of fish as they swim. Now blue, now gray. 
“Alright.” Sirius sets his hands on your waist, and you tense automatically. “See, that’s the habit we have to break. Relax for me, shortcake.” 
His words certainly don’t help, but you do your best, unclenching the muscles in your stomach and legs. 
“Perfect,” he says, then launches you into the air. You barely have time to gasp before you’re landing on his bed, springs squealing in protest. “Okay, next time, try to spin or something.” 
“I wasn’t ready,” you protest. 
Sirius laughs. “I know. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let’s try to do it like practice this time, yeah? So you go over there,” he motions to the door, “and run towards me. When I throw you, try to spin if you can, but don’t try to stick the landing or anything. Just land on your butt.” 
You roll your eyes, moving to the door. “Yeah, I’m in no hurry to break my ankle like Reg, thanks.” 
He winks. “Just making sure.” He spreads his feet a bit, bracing himself. “Alright, let’s give it a try.” 
It’s easy to remember Sirius is an older brother when he gets all bossy like this, but you comply, gaining as much speed as you can on the way to him before he’s gripping you around the waist, tossing you into the air. You manage a half-turn before your back end hits the bed. 
“Better!” Sirius exclaims, beaming at you. “You still seemed a bit tense, but at least you didn’t try to jump by yourself. Again?”
You can’t help a little smile of your own as you nod, pushing up off the bed and repositioning yourself at the door. 
☆ ☆ ☆
When Regulus gets home, he finds you sprawled on Sirius’ bed with his brother sitting beside you, both thoroughly worn out. 
“Did you fix it?” he asks.
You grin at the ceiling, wondering if it’s your pride or Sirius’ you’re feeling in the air, or both. “I think so.” 
“Coach might get the chance to be mad at me instead, tomorrow,” Sirius laments. “My arms are fucking dead. Too many throws and I might drop you on the ice.” 
“Don’t break my partner,” Regulus says warningly. 
“Yeah,” you second, hauling yourself into a sitting position and going to meet Regulus at the door, “please don’t.” 
You can hear Sirius’ eyes rolling as he says, “I won’t. See you at practice tomorrow, shortcake?”
It’s harder than usual to muster up annoyance for the teasing nickname. “See you tomorrow.” 
415 notes · View notes
phenomenal1500 · 1 year
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~In The Gods' Favor~
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A/N: This is a combined request asked by three anons on Tumblr. I felt like these requests could fit together perfectly and I hope you all like it!
Summary: Reader is stuck in an arranged marriage with Harald and sees his scars by the Pechenegs for the first time.
Timeline: Season 2, after the Pechenegs.
Pairing: Harald Sigurdsson x Fem!Reader Warning: Smut, breeding kink, arranged marriage.
Sitting in the gorgeously decorated great hall in Kattegat, Y/N was watching the Norsemen feasting and celebrating because of her marriage with the new king of Norway. However, everything didn't sit right with her.
How could other people be happy at such a time but her?
She knew who she married. King Harald had made sure to meet and spend time with her before their marriage so she wouldn't feel overwhelmed marrying a stranger, but happiness? That she couldn't express at this hour.
Perhaps it was because she was closed off to new opportunities or perhaps because she had built a wall so she didn't have to let him in, but she simply couldn't be excited even though she had to admit the norseman was besides attractive also very lovely and caring.
"You're doing alright, sæta?" King Harald slowly dropped himself beside her on the small bench that she had been sitting on all evening now.
"I think I'm doing fairly well." She nodded and looked back at the exciting and hopeful crowd again.
"We're giving them hope." He whispered, laying his large hand on her lower back. "We must think about that."
"I've never been much of a leader." She admitted, for the first time not backing away or pushing his hand away either. Sooner or later things had to get more heated between the two so a simple loving touch didn't bother her so much anymore. "These people.. they aren't my people."
"After today they are, love." He slowly rubbed her back and tried to make her look at him. "They're as much my people as they are yours."
"Out of everyone, why me?" She finally pulled her eyes off the crowd and back to her husband.
"You seemed sweet and very quick-witted." He smiled. "And from the moment they introduced you, I knew you would stand by me proudly."
"I'm not standing anywhere yet." She may have already been royal before they married, but since she was the youngest of her sisters, she had never been taught how to be a proper queen. She didn't trust herself to lead a country yet.
"You will soon." He gently lifted her hand to his lips and gave the back of it a soft kiss. "Trust me when I say you were born for this."
"I trust you." She slowly nodded and had a slight blush on her cheeks.
"That's all that matters." He gently lifted her chin with his index finger before he closed the gap between them, catching her lips with his as he pulled her in for a slow passionate kiss.
"King Harald." She panted softly after she pulled away, cheeks even redder.
"Not the right moment?" He stroked her hair, letting her decide for herself if she wanted to continue the kiss. He wasn't going to force her into anything. That wasn't like him. If the kiss wasn't what she wanted, Harald would apologize right away.
"No, it's not that." She cleared her throat nervously, but instantly relaxed in his touch. "However, perhaps we should go somewhere more private?"
"Is that really what you wish for, Y/N?" He whispered, cupping her face with his hands.
"I think so." She was a bit uncertain, but she preferred some alone time with the man anyway. The crowd only made her feel more pressured to show forced love to him, and if the traditions were true, after the wedding celebrations six people would accompany them to their bridal bed and she would rather experience things alone with him before that.
"Come on then, sæta." He got up and held out his hand which she took without any hesitation.
She wanted to be out of there badly and especially if it meant exploring her feelings with him before anyone would witness it.
She couldn't imagine how forced and hurried that would be like.
The king brought her to their now shared bedroom, helping her inside before he closed and locked the door so no one could get in and harm them. "You're certain about this my queen?" He questioned again, just to reassure himself that she wanted this too and he wasn't forcing her into anything. He had been raised to respect and care for his women, no matter if it was an arranged marriage and they had to by tradition.
For him and a lot of other Norsemen, unlike the men from England, it was important both sides wanted this.
"Yes, I'm sure of my decision, Harald." She smiled a little, feeling soothed by the way he made sure she was okay with such a thing at all times.
"Come over here, gorgeous~." He returned the sweet smile and watched the woman obey him, carefully closing the gap between them herself now.
Right when she took the last step towards him, she could feel his warm lips on hers again. Tongue playfully exploring her mouth, he sneaked his arms around her thighs and picked her up that way, holding her close to him.
She had to admit it made her feel feelings she never thought she was capable of feeling and here she was, experiencing them with a man she actually started to desire.
"My king~?" She blushed and cupped his face, staring deeply into his darkened eyes filled with lust.
"You're allowed to only say my name, Ketta. You are my wife, not an unknown person to me." He spoke against her lips softly and she nodded.
"Harald~?" She licked her lips slowly to taste more of him when he carefully laid her down on her back.
"What is it?" He made sure to caress every inch of her body, starting with kissing her shoulders as he unlaced the laces of her dress located between her breasts. It instantly made her feel flustered, but didn't stop him and he didn't stop either.
Lust was slowly taking over~ they needed each other badly.
"I desire you." She felt her heart speed up a bit when he took off her dress more with every kiss. It even doubled its speed when his hands and lips finally found her breasts, fingers trailing up and down her breasts before rolling her hardened nipples between his fingers and kissing the valley between them. It instantly caused a strange sensation in her body and she suddenly felt the wet heat worsen between her legs.
"I desire you too, ketta." He muttered against her soft skin, hands moving down to her sides and down to her hips as he pushed the fabric further down.
There she was, bare and open to him.
He had to admit it made his cock grow solid in his trousers right away when he saw her gorgeous body, but he was holding himself back and keeping himself calm.
He wasn't a quick-fuck type of guy, he wanted to treat her like the queen she was.
Despite how he felt about how beautiful she was, she herself was slightly anxious. Nobody had ever seen her without clothes, let alone this vulnerable too, and especially after he slowly spread her legs.
"All I'm asking of you is to loosen up and let me take care of her, sæta, that way it'll feel the best."  He ran his fingers over her wet pussy lips to worship it gently and pulled his hand back again. He knew he had to be careful with her and that's why he needed her to relax for him.
"I'll try my best, Harald." She mumbled, nibbling on her lower lip as he suddenly got on his knees in front of her. "What~ what are you doing?"
"It's okay, my love~." He reassured her as his lips touched her inner thigh, giving it sloppy wet kisses as he trailed his way up to the place that needed to be touched the most.... The place that was aching and begging for nobody but his touch.
"Please." She panted softly, letting the small beg roll of her tongue before she could stop herself. She honestly didn't really know what she was begging for, but it made him chuckle and before she knew it he was giving her clit a loving kiss too. Her chest immediately went up and down faster because of it and the pleasure that shocked through her body increased especially when he wrapped his lips around it and gently started to suck.
That brought her to Valhalla right away.
"Mmhmm~." Y/N arched her back, loving the new delightful feelings as he licked her up, giving her wet pussy long and slow licks before going back to sucking. "Harald~."
"I know, ketta." Harald growled, his hands stroking her inner thighs as he dove right back into her ocean. "I know it feels good." He spoke straight into her core, her whole body shivering because of it.
He needed her ready for him.
He needed this to feel good for her.
Lifting her legs and resting them over his shoulders, he licked her insides a little faster. He wanted her pretty pink pussy more than soaked and ready to take all of him and in no time her legs were already shaking.
He knew she was close, but unfortunately for his beautiful wife he wasn't going to make her cum so soon.
Harald pulled back, his beard covered in her juices, but he didn't care. His eyes landed on his wife again, her pretty eyes filled with lust and her cheeks having this cute red tone, she was so precious to him. "You prefer to have all of me?"
"Yes. I would love to have all of you." She smiled after she managed to get out of her stunned embarrassed state. This was all new to her and seeing him this shameless was unusual so of course it was normal she had to get used to the barefaced activities.
She slowly sat up though and actually managed to help her husband take off his armor before her eyes suddenly landed on the horrifying scars on his chest.
"What happened...?" She raised her hand and carefully outlined them with her fingers.
"It happened before I was crowned king of Norway. A man named Vitomir promised to pay me and my friend Leif a lot of treasure if we could deliver something to the emperor in Constantinople." He proudly explained while he unlaced his trousers. "But there were many Pecheneg camps settled along the shores we sailed."
"Pechenegs...?" Her eyes shot up to his deep hazel ones, staring at him with a slightly dropped jaw.
If there was anything she heard about Pechenegs, it was that they were extremely violent, well, they loved giving their enemies a tough time.
It was a wonder Harald was still alive.
"Yes, Pechenegs." He nodded and crawled on top of her in a hot way, his hands resting on either side of her head to keep his body weight off of her. "The cowards pierced my skin and string me up by my chest to see how much it would take for me to beg for mercy, but I never did."
Y/N listened closely to the king, but actually focused more on the ugly scars.
"Do they still hurt..?" She pushed herself up on her elbows to kiss each scar.
"No, neither do my muscles." He kissed her forehead. "So do not worry about me. We're not here together and bare to worry about my injuries."
"I know." She suddenly blushed again when she felt his hard cock pressing against her thigh. She then wrapped her arms around his neck while her legs spread some more on their own to make room for him between them. "I can feel that we aren't here for that."
"You want it~?" He teased playfully, rubbing his tip between her wet folds which got her body squirming with need.
"Yes, please Harald." She begged, her eyes never leaving his as he grabbed her hand and brought it down to touch his perfectly curved cock.
God, he would be able to hit every spot so well.
"Guide him, love." He let her feel around his already rock hard cock, jerking him a little, and he loved the way she was too embarrassed to look down at what she was doing. It was adorable.
"Guide him...? I don't know how." She whispered, glaring down for a second as he gave her a hint, pressing his tip softly against her tight entrance.
It made her bite her lip, nervous at the sight of him so close to her dripping pussy.
"Right there, guide him in ketta." He whispered in her ear, kissing her neck afterwards while she slowly guided him inside of her tight entrance.
Harald could feel her body protest by the unfamiliar stretch, but he could also tell she wanted this so badly by the way her walls were clenching and throbbing around his big cock.
Slowly, he moved his hips forward into hers, feeling her pussy trying to adjust to just his thick tip as she closed her eyes.
"How are you feeling, love?"
"Wonderful, strange, a slight sting as well perhaps?" She named everything she was experiencing so he could understand what she was feeling and his large hands rubbed her hips to help her body relax again.
"It'll feel like Valhalla soon." He groaned deeply, his cock sinking deeper inside of her while she nuzzled his neck. "And the more we do this, sæta, the better it'll feel for her."
"Really~?" She smiled and gasped when Harald repositioned her hips to a different angle that made his cock go deeper.
"Yes~ and if the gods are in our favor, we might be granted lots of children as well." He wrapped one of his arms around her arched back to keep her that way while he thrusted a bit faster, the curve of his cock brushing against her spot perfectly over and over again.
"I'd love to have your children one day." She moaned softly, tightening her walls around him.
"I know you do." He smirked and reached down between their sweating bodies, fingertips stroking that small bundle of nerves to help send her over the edge. "It's alright, ketta~ let it go and give me what I want so I can give you my seed and have you bear my children."
Her body began to shake by his words and she couldn't suppress her loud moans anymore. This feeling, the feeling that was so right and wrong at the same time was just too enjoyable.
She and her body couldn't take much more of it honestly.
Inhaling deeply, the woman gave into the strange yet delightful feeling and finally the knot of pleasure exploded, the wonderful feelings coursing through her entire body as she clung to her husband.
"Harald~ oh gods." She smiled and panted, feeling his cock twitch against her spot before he came deep inside of her and coated her tight walls with his seed.
"You felt so perfect, my queen." He buried his face on the crook of her neck, leaving short loving kisses there while he slowly thrusted his cum deeper into her.
"So what now, my king?" She spoke softly not to interrupt the peace they both felt and he carefully pulled out.
"We go back to the feast and make sure we do this again at the end of our wedding~ hoping my seed will take soon." He smiled and gently helped her stand up so he could redress her.
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martinsluvr · 2 months
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coffee and basketball
pairing: kate martin x fem reader! 2022-2023 season!
warnings: fluff! friends to lovers trope!? small mention of drinking! mentions of anxiety/fear of love!
authors note: pls be gentle this is my first fic
dec 5th 2022 ~ post iowa win against iowa state (dec 4th). score 70-57. kate martin with 13 points.
reader’s pov
the energy in iowa city was booming after last night’s win. i’ve been working at this coffee shop in iowa city since my freshman year of college and i’ve become accustomed to talking “game talk” my entire shift the day after a game, and if any of the players decide to stop in to do homework or for a quick drink, i sympathize as i watch them get trapped into nonstop conversations about basketball. iowa city is extremely proud of and cherishes our women’s basketball team, and quite frankly you never hear the end of it when you’re living here.
our coffee shop gets quite busy everyday, and my shift passes by with ease. as i’m finishing making the last order i took before clocking out, i see two familiar blondes walk in.
“hiiii!!! great game you guys!! your usuals today?”
“hey y/n thank you, yes please! how are you? when are you actually going to come to a game in person!” monika exclaimed. after working here for so long, we’ve developed a genuine friendship, sometimes catching up for a drink or just enjoying each other’s company in our apartments.
“i know, i know.. i promise i will before the season ends!” i laughed as i made their drinks. “kate, you did really good last night, i really wish i could’ve been there”.
i could see kate blushing out of the corner of my eye as I finished making their drinks, and monika nudging her. “y/n i am going to drag you to the next home game myself, kate always looks around and hopes you’re the-“ monika was interrupted by kate obnoxiously faking a cough attack. i laughed, blushing and handed them their drinks. as i handed kate her drink, our fingertips slightly touched and we made eye contact.
“in the meantime maybe we can go to open gym tonight? i can rebound for you and give you time to reenact some of your moves from the game for me” i said as i smiled up at kate with my eyebrows raised. although i was NOT short, yet kate disagrees, she was still 8 inches taller than me as I stood at 5’4. “we can meet at my apartment at 6 if you’re up for it”.
kate knew what i was doing. i knew what i was doing.
kate’s pov
my palms were immediately sweating. i looked down at her and honestly just forgot every single thing she’s said since i walked in because i cannot stop looking at her eyes and how well they compliment her dark hair, she just dyed it - i can tell. My eyes scan over her exposed tattoos on her arm and i quickly look back into her eyes so i don’t look like more of a creep than i already do.
“6pm is good. i’ll be there. at 6”, i tried playing it cool. she laughed, shaking her head and saying her quick goodbyes as she had to rush to her 2 o’clock class.
“you know you said 6 twice. i think she knew what time considering SHE asked YOU” monika explained while almost tumbling over laughing. “i mean kate, you should’ve seen your face. you two have been doing this for a year now. why have you not made a move on her? she’s clearly interested in you”
i sighed, “monika I don’t know. i really do like her but it’s just scary. i don’t know if i can commit to something, especially right now. basketball is our life and how will someone ever be able to fall in love with me if i can only see them for a few hours a week?” monika rubbed my shoulder and brought me in for a hug.
“just because you are a D1 athlete does not mean this is your entire life. you still deserve to have a life outside of basketball, and if anyone, she would be the most understanding” monika said, “you’ve got to make a move before she gives up. i know she’s into you kate. you deserve to feel and be loved”.
she really always was right.
we spent the rest of the day doing homework together and making lunch. as it got closer to 6, i could feel the knots in my stomach getting worse. luckily, we lived in the same apartment complex so it was a quick walk to her apartment.
5:55pm and i’m already at her door. is that too early? too desperate?
i knock a few times to let her know i’m here. i could just say i came early so i could see her cats
i looked down twiddling my thumbs, patiently waiting.
“coming!” i heard faintly from her apartment. she opened the door and quickly embraced me.
“kate hi! i just have to feed my cats before we leave so just come in for a minute” she said while frantically trying to feed her cats before they tried jumping into the food. i stepped into her apartment and patiently waited, laughing as her cats were jumping up her legs and meowing.
“you know, i’ve always been a dog person but i love your cats. they are just so adorable and have such a personality” i remarked.
“hah yeah, you can take them whenever. they are the best for cuddling but feeding them is still terrifying” she laughed.
she collected her bag, which i offered to hold, her water bottle and keys. we locked up her apartment and walked down to her car.
“midnights?” we asked in unison, both laughing after realizing we jinxed each other. i adore that she loves taylor swift almost as much as i do. i plugged in my phone to her aux and shuffled the album. as we started driving to our practice gym, i couldn’t help but steal glances at her, imagining what it would be like if we were more than friends, if i wasn’t so scared, i thought. i wouldn’t be afraid to hold her hand or her thigh while one of us drives. i wouldn’t be afraid to kiss her at every red light. i wouldn’t be afraid of love with her.
we pulled into the parking lot and i quickly grabbed both of our bags, and we made our way inside. no one had the practice gym booked for tonight, so it was just us. i put in my code to enter the gym, and we settled our stuff down.
“so.. what are we doing today coach kate” she smiled widely at me. i grinned and grabbed the rack of basketballs, pulling it next to the free throw line.
“well, let’s work on some free throw shots first”.
reader’s pov
after an hour of rebounding for kate and even taking some shots for myself, i decided to line myself up at the free throw line. i was never one to play sports, but i’ve always loved watching them. i’ve always been so jealous of people’s hand-eye coordination, as it never seemed to work for me which led to me burying myself in studies and clubs for years.
i try to fix my form like kate taught me, then launched it.
miss.
again, i grabbed another ball and launched it.
miss.
and again, and again. miss. miss. miss.
kate stifled a laugh watching me, and as i turned to glare at her she put her arms up in surrender.
“here, let me help you. we’ve already gone over this y/n, are you missing on purpose?” she questioned. i shook my head, my breath getting faster the closer she got to me. i faced the basket with the ball in my hands hoping to hide my blush.
“here, move over a little” kate said as she put her hands on my waist, moving me to the right a little. “now put your right hand here, and your left hand here” she said as she guided my hands from behind. all i could focus on was her breath on my neck and how close our bodies were without touching. “now shoot”
straight net.
“see! you can do it! but, can you guard me?” she questioned as she quickly knocked the new ball out of my hands, dribbling away from me.
“kate, of course i can guard you” i laughed chasing after her. we played 1 on 1 for a few minutes, her scoring on me multiple times and me not even able to keep the ball in my hands for more than a minute. as i jumped up to block her shot, i tumbled over her as we both fell to the ground. her arms were quick to grab my waist to ensure i fell on her instead of the hard wood court.
“kate!” i exclaimed laughing, “you could’ve hurt yourself and lisa would have actually hunted me down and killed me!”
we were both laughing as i rolled off of her and laid next to her on the ground. she turned over to look at me with a wide smile. we grabbed each other’s hands as we helped each other up, yet i stumbled into her again.
“a little clumsy tonight aren’t we?” she teased. her hands hesitant to continue holding my waist as we stood centimeters apart.
“i guess you just make me a little nervous” i confidently stated. our eyes stayed locked in for a minute, and for a split second i swore i saw her look at my lips, until she quickly pulled away almost breaking out in a sprint to our bags.
“we should get going, the janitors will be here soon to start locking up” she hurriedly said.
with a heavy sigh, i walked towards the exit grabbing my keys and water bottle as we made our way to the exit.
-
the car ride to the apartment complex was silent. i felt uneasy. is it me? is she just not into me? i thought. as i pulled in to my spot, kate offered to walk me back up to my apartment. the walk was long,
and silent. as i got to my door, i pulled out my key as fast as i could to unlock the door. “thank you for walking me kate, goodnight” i said as i tried rushing into my apartment. before i could shut my door, she put her hand out to hold it open”
“wait y/n,” she hesitated, “there’s been something i’ve been meaning to do for a while now”. kate strides towards me, reaching out to put one hand on my hip and one hand on my check, quickly pulling me up towards her and before i knew it, she kissed me.
she really kissed me.
her lips were soft. i could feel our smiles through the kiss and my heart nearly beating out of my chest, i wonder if she felt it too. kate pulled away first, looking down at me smiling, moving both hands to my cheeks.
“goodnight y/n” she said as she kissed my forehead. she backed away towards the door, and left before i could say a word.
i sheepishly slid my back down the cold wooden front door and made my way down to the floor. between the heat on my cheeks, tingling sensation on my lips, and the sound of my heartbeat thumping through my chest, nothing else in the world mattered in that moment. i delicately brought my finger to my lips, trying to relive the feeling through the sensations. my cheeks were hot and hurting. 'have I ever smiled this big in my life?', I thought. my legs slightly shaking as i slowly got up, making my way through my apartment to my bedroom. everything was bright even with all of my lights off. i sat down at my vanity, staring at myself in the mirror. through the slight shine of the exposed moonlight, i could see the red and pink flush all over my face. my phone buzzed in my sweater pocket. 
i had a great time, the text read, see you tmrw for my usual? :)
i held the phone to my chest tightly, feeling the coldness of the screen through my clothes, but nothing else was cold. everything was warm because she kissed me.
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Let's talk about Zutara
WARNING NOT KATAANG AND MAIKO FRIENDLY
CONTINUE WITH PRECAUTION
I thought I should finally use this second blog of mine for the reason I made it.
To scream into the void and find mutals.
So let's talk about one Ship which people to this day fight over.
The fanon ship (at it pains me to write this) made out of Zuko and Katara from Avatar the Last Airbender aka. Zutara.
I read a lot of analyses, arguments and so on about this ship.
It probably all has been said about Zutara, but since I'm writing an AangXOC story which will include Zutara, I felt like I should give my stance on it.
Back when Avatar first aired in the country I lived in the time I was like 11-12 years old.
I had an instant crush on Aang since he was so funny, kind and gentle.
I never saw Aang's crush on Katara as a problem, because it always seemed to me, till season 3, that Katara was just motherly to Aang.
Giving a friend a cheek kiss in thanks doesn't automatically mean that you like-like them.
At this time I only really shipped Sokka and Yue and cried my eyes out how it ended.
And then the famous scene from book 2 in the crystal catacombs under Ba Sing Se happened.
Short recap, in that season Zuko goes through a lot of chances and I root for, wishing him the best.
Now back to the scene, I said.
The scene turned me into a Zutara shipper in one instant.
Zuko and Katara opening up to each other, sharing their traumas and feelings about the Fire Nation, Katara offering to heal his scare...it was poetic cinema.
I was shivering all over and was like kiss, kiss, kiss!
Let's not forget that before this scene I didn't even see them as a potential couple...but this scene, this beautiful moment they shared with each other, opened my eyes.
I was like, yeah this is it, this is something one should want from a partner. Mutual understanding.
Then Zuko decided to betray Katara for a chance to go home and I cried right there with our favourite waterbender.
I felt also betrayed.
The scene they shared made me feel things, which I experienced as a young girl for the first time, I felt the connection between Zuko and Katara like it was my own.
I was Katara at this moment and couldn't believe that the boy who opened up to me, who understood what it was like to have their mother taken away from the Fire Nation, who said that he wanted to change, that he turned his back on me.
Didn't I/Katara mean nothing to him?
Didn't he feel how special our/their moment was?
I was devasted.
When Zuko then joined the Gaang in the middle of season 3 I could understand Katara's anger towards him.
Katara and I trusted him first and he betrayed our trust.
We had a right to be angry.
As the Southern Raiders came on, as I saw how flawlessly they worked as a team, I felt my own heart heal.
I swerve to this day, that I thought they would kiss at the end of the episode, but we got a hug.
However, this hug, made me feel all giddy and mushy inside.
I felt it was something special.
Maybe even more than a kiss.
It was a huge of forgiveness and the start of a new bond.
And then the last episode comes on.
Zuko sacrificed himself to save Katara from Azula lighting, she healed him then...I thought, yes this is it, now comes the kiss...but nothing.
Then suddenly Zuko is back together with Mai and I was like WTF?!
And Aang and Katara share this really intense kiss at the end.
I was literally like:
youtube
It came out of nowhere for me.
That Aang wasn't over his crush on Katara we all know, but when did Katara decide she liked Aang?
When did this realisation happen, when in the Ember Island Player, which was like a few days before Sozin's Comet Katara made clear that she didn't want to have a romance or get kissed by Aang, which he didn't respect.
Did he ever actually apologise for the unwanted kiss? I don't think so.
Remember I had a crush on Aang, but through the seasons I became a Zutara Shipper and literally felt all their moments like they were my own.
I was Katara and Aang wasn't on my radar anymore.
I really doubted my interpretation skill, did all these lovely, mushy, heartful moments have been really romantic or did I project?
I felt like Zuko and Katara had broken up with me.
Yeah, so much inpact had their "friendly" moments at me!
To this day, the hug Katara and Zuko shared on the Southern Raiders is one of the most lovely moments of any of my ships.
Not even kissing made me feel, what this hug made me feel.
Think about how powerful this is!
If Zutara had kissed, I would have probably passed out or cried like a baby in happiness.
I don't know and I will never know since it's a fanon ship.
Uurgh.
Anyway, years passed and as I mention before I read a lot of analysis and so on.
What shocked me most was that Byrke originally planned to have Zuko and Katara together but then changed their minds.
It did reassure me, how I wasn't imagining things between them, however reading then how the Souther Raider Episode changed a lot of times because Bryke found it too shippy, tells you a lot.
They wanted to make Kataang canon and better, than the natural flow Zutara had going on.
I want to repeat again, a HUG was MORE ROMANTIC and INTENSE than the crappy kiss Kataang shared.
Like what?!
How is this possible?
Well, yeah, if you don't force things and actually make people interact in a wholesome way it can be.
Zuko and Katara felt never forced because they just clicked. They were different, but the same in many things, that it was so natural to understand the other.
Aang and Katara felt always more like a mother-and-son duo, than real lovers.
And Maiko was kinda lame too.
Sorry.
I have this theory they just wanted to pair Zuko with a Fire Nation girl and be done with it.
I don't know why they chose Mai when it could have been worked with Ty Lee too, if it was only to pair Zuko with someone who doesn't understand him or doesn't want to try.
Excuse me, maybe Ty Lee would have been better since she seemed to care for her friends, in contrast to Mai who just tried her hardest to be goth and hate everything.
Sorry.
What I'm trying to say with this rant?
I think, as someone who had liked Aang and then felt more connected to Zuko and Katara, I can clearly say that if Katara had been a real girl and not a fictional character controlled by men, she would be together with Zuko.
Why would I/Katara choose someone who I need to mother, who is younger than me, who can't relate to me, if there is an older handsome boy who is kinda dorky and awkward and tries his best, understands my feelings and helps me to parent the Gaang?
Yeah, no, Katara would have smooched Zuko if she had been a real girl.
Now, who of you who knows me, can say, but Empress some of your OCs are older than their canon partner, how can you say that Kataang can't work if you do this in your stories?!
I want to make clear I don't have general a problem if the girl is older than the guy or taller.
It's just that their supposed age gap is when they are together makes it creepy.
Look at an example.
My parents have a three-year age gap.
Nothing much.
They are both in their 60, mid 60, so it's not weird.
They are in the same mature stage in life and understand the struggles of the other.
Now think if my parents meet at 12 and 15.
My dad is the older one.
Are you going to say with a straight face that it wouldn't have been creepy if my parents started to date at this age?
What does a teenager want with a pre-puperty child?
Also, they live in completely different worlds, how can they relate to each other?
The same goes for Katara and Aang, what does a 14-year-old want from a 12-year-old?
I bet if it was the other way around, we would all give Aang shit for preying on a 12-year-old girl.
The gender shouldn't decide if we find a couple creepy or not, even if it's so sadly.
What I want to say, Kataang would have worked better if let's say season 3 ended with no pairing, just all being friends and happy and then in the comics when they age, when Katara is 22 and Aang is 20 they got together.
They would have matured, been on the same level, probably dated other people and had experience.
It would have been okay.
Even if I still think Zutara is superior in anything.
Anyway, I hope I could explain myself and no hate to the canon ships and their shippers.
Ship and let ship.
I just wanted to explain my reason why I will be always a Zutara Shipper and don't reconsider the ending of Avatar as the end and Legend of Korra.
I will forever be Team-Season-Four-Where-Aang-Finds-Hiding-Airbenders-And-Falls-in-Love-With-A-Airbender Girl-His-Age-And-Zuko-And-Katara-Marry-Eachother-And-Katara-Becomes-The-Most-Beloved-And-Badass-Fire Lady-In-History!
And they find also Zuko mom ^^
So for now this is it for me.
If you want my take on an Aang and OC story, where Zutara will be canon, go to my other Tumblr profile empressofthesunwriter and read Yin and Yang.
Here is the link to the Index
I wish you all a nice day/night!
Till next time!
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tkwrites · 4 months
Text
Private Lessons - Quinn Hughes x Sarah (ofc)
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Photo from Pinterest
Title: Private Lessons
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah (OFC) 
Warnings: None? If I should add any, please let me know. 
Summary: As requested by @eyesthatroll, Quinn teaches Sarah to skate.
Word Count: 3,300
Comments: After taking a bit of a breather, I’m back with a requested fic. 2 months after you requested it, your wish is my command, Mari. I hope you enjoy it!
This was an interesting exercise for me to write something requested by someone else that wasn’t necessarily my own idea. I wrestled with it and got in my head a lot about it, but ultimately, I like the result I finally came to. 
Thanks for your patience and support. Please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to see in their universe! I can’t guarantee I’ll write it, but I love the inspiration and challenge these requests bring! 
eyesthatroll asked: tory!! i absolutely adore your writing 🥹 maybe if it’s in your wheelhouse, you could write quinn teaching sarah to skate (or them going skating together) for the first time. i think that would be very adorable 😭 it’s totally fine if that’s not in the cards for the series though, don’t feel pressured! love ya! 🫶🏽
Private Lessons
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
At the end of every season we have a family skate. It's on the 15th. I'd like to bring you if you can come. 
Sarah knew this was a bigger deal than his crafted to be casual text was letting on. If it really was casual, he would have mentioned it before he left for the three game road trip.
She also knew dating a hockey player meant she would have to face her fear and past failure eventually. Even if a team event wasn't involved, it was such a big part of Quinns life. She wouldn't be able to avoid it forever. 
Does everyone skate? 
Usually yeah. Not all of the partners do, but most. 
I've never skated before. 
Really? 
Desert flower, remember? she sent with a picture of a blooming cactus. 
He laughed. There are lots of different skill levels there. People bring their kids and stuff.
Meaning what? That I'll be the only adult with training wheels? 
No wheels ;) 
She sent a gif of someone rolling their eyes. I'd love to go with you, but I really don't want to be the only one who doesn't know what they're doing. Could I persuade you to give me some private lessons? 
I guess that depends on what you’re willing to give me. ;) 
I mean, there’s not much I wouldn’t give you. What do you want? 
A long pause passed in their conversation. When she finally read his response on her way home, her cheeks pinked so much, she had to put her phone in her bag for fear of giving herself away on the train. 
That’s how they ended up at a mostly empty training rink the Wednesday night after he got home. 
She found him waiting for her in the lobby, surrounded by a swarm of kids all jockeying for his attention. It looked like a whole little league team was getting out of practice or a game right as he arrived. They were so excited, acting as if he came in just to see them. 
Sarah waited off to the side, watching him sign autographs and give advice, and talk to each of them. She was tired and hungry, but seeing Quinn in this element gave her a new side of him to admire. He was patient and kind, and invested. She remembered him telling her how he always liked to talk to kids because he remembered how much it meant to him when his favorite players were willing to stop and talk. Seeing that quite literally come full circle was a gift she hadn’t expected to see.  
When he finally looked up and met her gaze, he flashed her a grin and mouthed, thank you. 
Smiling in return, she nodded to an empty room off to the side before settling in with her laptop to work on her publication. 
A big sigh announced his presence a while later, as Quinn slid down the wall to sit next to her on the floor. “Sorry about that,” he said, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. 
“It’s fine. I always have stuff to work on, and seeing you with the kids is sweet.” 
“Winning me some brownie points?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows. 
“Like you even need them.”
Sarah closed her laptop and turned her head so they could finally say hello properly. 
He pulled her close to deepen the kiss. Even though he'd gotten back in town after midnight the night before, they hadn’t seen each other until now. He'd debated going to the aquarium after practice, but remembered they wouldn't let him back without a pass the last time he’d tried. Besides, he didn’t want to interrupt her work so close to finals. 
The urge to climb into his lap was so strong, Sarah had to pull back from the kiss before she made a public spectacle of herself. 
“I missed you,” he said, trailing a finger from her cheekbone to her jaw. It felt like the road trip was finally over now that she was back in his arms.
“I missed you, too.” 
“I have to confess something,” Sarah blurted, nerves eating her from the inside out as he showed her how to tie her skates.
Quinn looked up from pulling her laces tight.
“I’ve been skating before.” 
One of his eyebrows cocked up, “you have, have you?” 
“It was terrible. It was on a first date with this guy when I was a freshman, and I’m pretty certain the only reason he suggested it was so he could get his hands on me.” 
Quinn wrapped his hand around her calf and joked, “I guess it’s a good thing I’ve already had my hands on you, then.” 
“You’re not mad?” she said, surprised.
“About what? That I’m not popping your ice skating cherry?” 
Laughter barked out of her mouth before she explained, “no, that I lied. I mean, I didn’t really lie. We went on ice, on skates, but no real skating was involved.”
“Now I feel like you’re lying,” his voice was teasing. 
“After half a wobbly, too touchy lap, I fell and broke my wrist.” 
The bemused smile dropped off his lips, “oh my god, Sarah, why didn’t you tell me before?” 
Her bottom jaw moved as she worried the inside of her lower lip. “I didn't know when it would come up.” she said. “I mean, if anyone can teach me to skate, you can. But that's why I wanted it to be just us first.” 
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve broken lots of bones skating,” he said, stroking her leg. 
She smiled tightly. “I bet none of those were from you falling down.” 
“I don’t know, maybe? You’d have to ask my mom, but I fell plenty when I was learning, that’s really normal.” 
“It just feels like one of those things that I'll never live down, you know?”
“Well, you and I are the only ones that know now.” 
“Yeah and Josh Jackson and all those people at the Reno rec rink.” 
“You keep in touch with everyone who was there that night?” he joked, hoping she would see how ridiculous her worry was. 
A hand flew up to cover her face as she blushed. “I guess it just lives in my head every time I think about ice skating.” 
“I know the feeling, but it was one time seven years ago, right? And you’ve got a better teacher, now.” 
She dropped her hands so she could meet his gaze, giving him a hopeful smile. 
He changed the subject. “Are these too tight? Can you move your toes?”
“Yeah. I mean, no they're not too tight.”
He smiled, stood and held out a hand, “come on. I can't promise you won't fall, but I'll do my best.” 
As they walked through the tunnel to the rink, she said, “This is the weirdest feeling.”
“It can't be worse than wearing heels.”
“Have you ever worn heels?”
“Well, no,” he admitted. 
“Then you can't say a damn thing about it. At least in heels, the ball of your foot is on the ground. With this, it's like my feet are suddenly half an inch wide.”
“You're thinking too much.”
“What am I supposed to do, not think?”
“Don't think so much,” he said, stopping at the boards and turning around. “Okay, I'm going to get on and help you on, okay?”
She nodded. 
He bit back his smile at the determination on her face. “It's slippery, so be prepared.”
“Gee, thanks, Hughes,” she said, flatly. “I had no idea ice is slippery.”
He laughed. She’d never called him by his last name. Of course it would come out when she was nervous. 
“I'll have you the whole time. I won't let you go until you tell me to,” he promised, reaching to help her through. 
She stepped on and immediately over corrected, jerking back. 
He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against him to keep them upright. “Calm down,” he said, trying to sound soothing. “I know it's a weird feeling.” 
In all actuality, he didn't know. He'd been skating so long it sometimes felt easier than walking.
 “Just hold on and let me pull you.” 
Skating backwards, he took her on a lap. Her fingers were hooked around his elbows, so he was forced to awkwardly hold the backs of her arms.
“Can you relax? I’ve got you.” 
She glanced down and felt her legs wobble. Visions of the ice rushing up to kiss her on the temple made her dizzy. 
“Look at me,” he said in a voice that couldn’t be ignored. 
Sarah met his eyes. The dim lights over the rink made them a sort of muddy green she’d never seen before. 
“If you keep looking down, you’re going to fall,” he said. “You go toward what you look at.” 
“I just want to make sure my feet are right.”
“Do you have to watch your feet when you’re walking?” 
“Well, no, but this is new.” 
“Sure, but once you get over the fact that you’re on the ice and used to your skates, it’ll start to feel more natural.”
“Yeah, I’ll just get over that.” 
He shook his head, and moved on. “Okay, start picking your feet up like you’re walking.” 
“Like I’m walking?” she repeated. “That seems really counterintuitive.” 
“It’s not that different from walking, you're just gliding instead.”
She leveled him with a deadpan, sarcastic look.
She was about to ask him how she was supposed to walk when she couldn’t lift her heel or push off with the ball of her foot, when she realized arguing his syntax wasn't going to get her anywhere. This was a case where she had to swallow her pride and ask for what she needed. 
“Can you break it down, like the physics of it, for me?” she asked. “It helps me to see all the steps before I do something.”
As he talked her through the mechanics of skating forward, she held onto his arm. She had so many questions he’d never considered, like how he used his edges to push off. 
Skating was so automatic on his part, he didn’t even have to think about it. He’d never had to break down what he was doing like this. 
Seeing how his legs worked up close and in slower motion helped her envision doing the same things herself. 
“Okay, come back here.” 
He moved in front of her again. 
“You make that look so easy,” she said, a bit of a whine in her voice. 
“Sarah,” he said, swallowing the bite in his tone, “I've been doing this for twenty years. I do this for a living. I'd hope I make It look easy. I couldn't take over writing one of your papers, or come into the aquarium and start taking care of Walter.”
“Yeah,” she said, resigned. 
“I know it's frustrating that you can't pick this up right away, but no one can. You can’t read your way into skating well.”
That touched a nerve and she glared at him. 
He let go of one of her hands so he could hold his up in surrender. “All I mean is that you just have to physically get used to it. How long did it take you to perfect your golf swing?” 
“That’s different.” 
“How is that different?” 
“I started that as a kid.”
“So? You can learn things now. You learn new things all the time.” 
“Yeah. It just feels so daunting. I really don’t want to look like an idiot in front of all your teammates.”
“No one will care. They’re just excited to meet you. We can come back every night I’m in town if you want. Or you can just not skate.” 
That caused distress to fly over her face. “No. I can’t do that.” 
“Why not?” He glanced behind him out of habit, even though there was no one else on the ice. It was a clean sheet too, freshly zambonied after the pee-wee hockey game that ended right before they arrived. Perfect learning conditions. 
Sarah recentered herself by pulling a breath down her spine, “this is such a big part of your life. I want to be able to participate.” 
“Yeah?” he asked, a half smile lifting the right side of his mouth. 
“Yeah, and like you said, I have a better teacher now.” 
“Tell me about your day,” he said.  
“Okay,” she answered, dubious of his intentions. 
“It’ll help you to stop thinking about what your body’s doing. I think you’ll find it will sort itself out if you let it.” 
He could tell she didn’t really believe him, but went ahead anyway, telling him about the little boy at the aquarium that afternoon who had insisted he’d caught an octopus as big as Walter and thrown it back the last time he and his mom had gone fishing. 
“I mean, maybe he did,” she said, shrugging. “But his teacher gave me this look like, ‘don’t believe a single word he says’. I felt bad, She just looked so tired of him.” 
Quinn laughed and decided not to point out that she was skating perfectly naturally now that she was out of her head about it. “What happened in class?” 
“Well, even if I get a C on my comparative physiology final, I’ll still pass the class.” 
“That’s huge, Sarah,” he said. 
“Yeah, it's such a relief, but then, Paul dropped that he's adding a test on top of our publication. Thankfully it’s not a huge part of my grade, but still, more on the pile. He’s calling it a review, but that just means it’ll cover everything we’ve studied this term.” 
“That doesn’t seem fair for him to add that at the last second.” 
“Well, he can do what he wants, so,” she shrugged. “He said he thinks we need it. I think he's just being a controlling jackass.” 
“Can't you report him or something?”
“For what?”
“For changing the syllabus so late.”
“Well, he's the head of the program, so I can't complain to him, plus if I went to the dean, I'm pretty certain she'd tell me ‘this is graduate school, and you should grow up.’” 
Quinn winced. 
“Yeah. He's just a dick because he can be. He’s the lord over this little kingdom and he wants us all to know it.” 
She shook her head, “I’m sorry, we can be done talking about him.”
“You can keep complaining if you want.”
“No, it's okay. It just makes me more mad, which makes me not want to study, which only shoots me in the foot.” 
“Okay,” Quinn said, “I think you’re ready for me to be next to you.”
“What?” 
“Yeah, you’ve been skating fine for the last five minutes.” 
She looked down as if to confirm, “I have?” 
“It’s not like you were standing still.” 
“But you’ve been pulling me.” 
“I was, but I’ve mostly just been holding your hand, keeping distance. You've been moving yourself forward.”
“Really?” Shaking her head, Sarah laughed a little to herself, “you really are a better teacher.”
He gave her a wink and spun to stand next to her. 
“Keep talking,” he encouraged. 
“About what?” 
She didn’t know what to look at now. There were empty stands, and scratched glass, and the whole smooth sheet of ice, lines etching a curving lacey pattern around the perimeter. 
“Whatever you want.”
“I don't -” glancing down, she remembered his advice and jerked up. The sudden movement caused her to promptly fall on her rear with a frustrated grunt.
Her hands fell to her sides in a gesture that said, why is this so hard for me? 
“You're doing great.”
“I just fell down.”
“So? I fall all the time. You just need to learn to get back up.”
He did fall, and she was always so impressed with his ability to just pop back up and continue playing as if nothing happened. 
He coached her back onto her feet, and they continued around the rink as he told her about the road trip he’d just come home from. Only five days away, but the comeback overtime loss and two wins made it a huge confidence builder. 
He admitted that though some of the strain was lessened for the next month with their guaranteed spot in the finals, he still felt so much pressure to perform. 
“There was this moment on Friday, though, where we were just gelling, you know, and it felt like ‘we deserve this now.’” 
“Of course you deserve it. You work your ass off for that team, Quinn.” 
Throwing her a thankful smile, he said, “I mean we all do it together.”
“And you’re a big reason everyone is buying in.” 
“Look at you, learning hockey talk.” 
“That is something I can read my way into.” she joked. “Plus your mom explained a bunch of the idioms to me.” 
He laughed. 
She fell twice more, but got up each time. The last time, she even managed to do it without his help. 
“You’re doing great,” he praised, moving in front of her again, “you’ll be a natural in no time.” 
Pulling herself to him with their clasped hands she winked, “it's because I have the best teacher.” 
She was close enough now that he would just have to lean in to kiss her. He did, because he could. They were apart so much, it only made sense to take advantage when they were together. 
Whenever people kissed on ice rinks in movies, Sarah was always struck with what a dumb idea it was. It seemed incredibly stupid to not pay attention to what you were doing on such a volatile surface. 
In reality, when Quinn kissed her, she melted. It felt so romantic. Cold, but cozy with his warm body pressed against hers, and the confidence in knowing he wouldn’t let her fall. The only sound was the pleasant scrape of their skates on the ice. 
Suddenly, everything she’d stopped herself from saying over the past few weeks came bubbling up into her mouth. 
Just the night before, she’d felt on the cusp of saying something other than “I miss you,” at the end of their goodnight phone call. She had bit it back, not wanting that first time to happen over the phone. She felt like the moment had to be perfect. 
Fuck that, she thought, now. She didn’t want to hold it in anymore. Plus, wasn’t this moment perfect enough? 
Pulling away, she waited for him to open his eyes.
After a moment or two, Quinn realized she wasn’t teasing, and met her gaze, “what’s wrong?” 
“Nothings wrong.” 
Suddenly, it felt too formal. They weren’t in the Elizabethan era where one declared their feelings in some kind of a grand speech, but she couldn’t not say it. It felt too disingenuous to keep holding it in. 
“I just…” she brushed her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck as she ran over a few possibilities in her mind rapid fire, dismissing them all for being too much. Honesty, it seemed, was proving to be the best policy. “I just really love you.”
Quinn could feel his eyes crinkling closed as his face melted into a goofy smile, one reserved only for family and people close to him.  
It felt like something broke open in his chest, finally set free. “I love you too.”
Sarah giggled and it came out a little watery. She never expected to cry when she told him, but her body always did like to cry over big emotions. 
Quinn wiped her tears away with his thumbs before tilting her face up to his. 
This kiss was softer, not as hurried. Desire giving way to something deeper – less fickle, and more settled. 
As they walked back to the locker room, Quinn realized, suddenly, that he'd left something unsaid. He tugged on her hand, and she turned. 
“I’m really proud of you,” he said. “I know you were really nervous.”
She leaned up to kiss him. “Thank you for being a very patient teacher.”
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist
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pedge-stuff · 8 months
Note
God I just thought about an idea for pedro and reader, reading your last post...
They are in a relationship and live together. The reader is also an actress. She asks pedro to practice her lines with her. In the play, she is having a really long line, breaking up with the person ans leaving them... pedro can't continue... at night in bed they are cuddling and pedro talks about how he hated the feeling or the thought of the reader ever leaving
(changed this slightly, hope that is OK...)
bad acting (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)
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a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.
thanks, as always, for everything.
(also I did that thing where I didn't save this on drafts fast enough and the whole fucking thing deleted so you could say im LIVID sorry if this rewrite felt rushed.)
summary: things get a little... too real.
—————————————————————————
"You can't laugh."
"I'm not gonna laugh!"
Pedro hands you his iPad, script loaded on the screen. "I'm serious," you warn him, "you had to stop last time, the acting was so bad."
"Just read the sides, baby."
You know he isn't nervous about the audition— if he was, he sure as shit wouldn't be practicing with you. Those rehearsals are reserved for his coach, or someone who can actually talk him through the scene. This was just a formality, a quick read-through for some anthological TV show about people in failing marriages. Season 2 of Oscar's old Amazon thing. With the audition being on Zoom tomorrow, the whole process feels fairly relaxed.
"Should I read it in a lady voice? Will that set the scene?"
"Please don't."
"Scottish accent?"
"Babe."
"Hmm." You clear your throat loudly, for dramatic effect. Across the room, feet propped on the desk, Pedro rolls his eyes. He's got his cheaters on, but no script— the audition's supposed to be off-book. "From the first page?"
"You're stalling."
"Ugh. Ok. Here we go." Leaning forward, you scroll to the highlighted text on the iPad. "Stop, David. You don't know what you're talking about."
Pedro's posture straightens; ever the professional, it's like watching a switch flip. The humored lines beside his eyes, little crows feet that crinkle when he looks at you, disappear completely. His brow furrows, gaze darkens.
"Of course I do, dammit. I'm done with this, all of this. It's like living in a mausoleum, Emma. I'd rather. Do you remember what love even feels like? Because I look at you, and I just... don't, anymore."
"You don't mean that."
"I do! I'm so tired of this. Life with you is joyless. Every day, I come home from work and just sit in the goddamn driveway because I don't want to come in the house. It's hard to be in the same room as you. I can't bring her back, Emma, and I miss her and I'm sorry she's dead. But it isn't my fucking fault and I wish you'd stop pretending it was."
His voice cracks, just a little. You frown as he grabs the glass of water beside him, pausing to wait, but he motions for you to continue.
"That's cruel," you read, "and you know it. That's not fair."
"None of this is fair!" Pedro exclaims. "That's the whole point. It's not fair that our daughter is dead while the girl who was driving got to walk away clean. Life isn't fucking fair. But it's life. And you've sucked all the light out of mine. I can't stand you, anymore, I'm sorry. I just can't. It's not that we can't make it work, it's that I don't want to make it work. If I never see you again, it'll be too soon. Jesus christ, I hate every part of this."
"Are you done? Have you gotten it all off your chest?"
"Don't placate me! This isn't one of your stupid therapy sessions, Emma, you can't fix this with a breathing worksheet and a roleplaying exercise. Be fucking serious. Every day I wake up and I wish I'd never met you. At least then, she wouldn't be dead, because she'd never have existed. And maybe I'd known some goddamn peace."
The page ends there, and you glance up. Pedro has his head in his hands, eyes closed.
"That was good," you offer tentatively, searching for some kind of sign as to what his next move is. He's gracious about work stuff, but you're always a little afraid of mucking up his process.
When he looks up, his eyes are glossy. "Yeah," Pedro says, croakily, clearing his throat quietly before rising from the chair. He takes the iPad back, wordlessly, shuttering the case over the screen.
"Wanna do it again? You were spot-on, Pedge, but we can go over it again if you want to."
"No," he says quickly. "No, I'm good. I'm fine. It's on Zoom, it'll be easy. I'm fine."
Weird. Just a little. Before you can dwell on his sudden cageyness, he's up, headed for the door.
"I'm gonna walk the dogs. We can catch up on Bake-Off, when I get back?"
Pedro leaves before you can answer.
— — — 
No sooner have the leashes been hung back by the door, than Pedro is beside you on the couch, all hands and light touches. It's as if he can't bear to lost contact. You allow him to reposition you, reaching a hand around your waist as you reach for the remote.
"Good walk?"
He hums, tugging you against him. Settles, finally, once you're half-reclined, back against his chest, arm around your middle. You fiddle with the edge of his sleeve as the bakers fumble their way through the signature challenge.
It's not that the clinginess bothers you— he's like this sometimes, when he's just returned home, or you've arrived in LA, or met somewhere in the middle. Every separation leaves him want for touch. It's the one thing you can't give him, while you're apart.
But he's been home a couple weeks now, in between reshoots for a new project. Been home all day, in fact, in an orbit around you while you attempted to work from home. (A little too close, frankly, but you can't really complain.)
"You okay?" You whisper, as the timer runs down on the technical bake.
No answer. Just a tightened grip on your waist, and a firm kiss to the top of your head.
— — — 
It isn't until later, in bed and half-asleep, that you pinpoint the source of the tension.
You'd have thought he was already asleep, save for the soft carding of his fingers through the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. Deep, even breaths tickle your forehead; he's curled around you, arm draped over your back. Had positioned himself this way silently, looking a little silly brooding in his Muppet-patterned pj pants.
"We're never reading lines again," Pedro whispers into the darkness.
"Was the acting that bad?"
Your attempt for levity falls flat. He is quiet, long enough for you roll backwards slightly, to get a better look at his face. A deep-set frown has taken root.
"No, it..." He tugs you closer again, tucking your head beneath his chin. If he weren't so sad, you'd call uncle for claustrophobia; your nose is squished into his jugular. But you lay still, waiting for him to continue.
"It felt too real," Pedro concedes. He inhales sharply, and you can feel it against your own chest.
The kiss you press to the hollow of his throat, doesn't feel good enough. You wiggle, tilting your head to press one against his toothpaste-tasting lips. Whiskers tickle the corner of your mouth.
"Baby, I know you were... pretending." A thin line between placating him and treading on his professionalism. "If our pretend daughter died in a car crash, I know you wouldn't divorce me for being too sad."
"It's not funny." With a groan, he kisses you again, resting his forehead against yours. "I hated saying that stuff to you. Felt too real."
The bone-crushing spooning is making a little more sense, now.
"I love you, but you're a sap."
"Hmph."
You smile into the next kiss. "A very sweet sap, though."
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newtthetranswriter · 9 months
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'Ello, 'ello, 'ello! I just saw your post about making GO2 x readers. I was wondering if you can make an Aziraphale x reader? The reader is a rank lower than Aziraphale, but more chaotic when they got on earth. Reader's a freaking simp to Aziraphale and tells everything they like about him to Crowley.
Bonus if Crowley literally yeets the reader to Aziraphale for swooning too much.
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Word count: 1335
Paring: Aziraphale x reader
A/n: Thank you for requesting I hope you enjoy it. It was nice dipping into the Good Omens fandom for writing. Requests are currently open, just make sure to check my rules and character list before requesting thanks, and enjoy. Also very small season 2 spoilers so read at your own discretion. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
  Having been on earth for the past 6000 years has been wild. I have witnessed and maybe participated in multiple wars, seen the rise and fall of empires, but the best thing I have witnessed on earth is my fellow angel, Aziraphale. I just love his fascination with books, and the workings of human society. The fact that he even is so kind as to help the demon Crowley with tasks that they both happen to be assigned to is amazing, he is such a kind individual and needs to be protected.
   Over the years I have noticed that whenever I’m around him my brain goes fuzzy, like it becomes impossible to think of anything other than him. I have no idea how to tell him this, I mean it’s not like he would feel the same about me. After all that we have been through together I think it’s best if i just keep these feelings to myself, as I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship.
    Well keeping it to myself is far easier said than done as I was currently pestering my favorite fallen angel, and some things may have slipped out.
    “I don’t know when I started feeling this way, I just think he’s so sweet. And the look on his face when he thought his books were destroyed in that church back in ww2, he was so sad and then he realized you saved them he was so happy. I love how he takes care of his books like they are the most important things in this world.” I said, talking the demon's ear off as he just rolled his eyes at me.
    He just continued to sit on the park bench while we were waiting for Aziraphale, watching me pass in front of him. “Why are you telling me this, I don’t care.” He said hoping I would just sit down and shut up.
    I just rolled my eyes and continued knowing it would probably still be a few minutes before the angle showed up. “I just wish I knew what he was thinking in that pretty little brain of his.” I sighed as I sat next to Crowley. “Who am I kidding, he would never like me like that. I’m one misstep from being a demon, he’s so straight laced while I like to cause trouble. He wouldn’t even look my way if we weren’t both angels.” I said exasperated.
  The demon next to me just sighed before hoping the other angel would show up already. “Just because you are more of a morally gray angel doesn't mean he wouldn’t look at you. I mean look at me, I’m a demon and he talks to me.” Crowley said, jestering to himself. “ And trust me he does like you, talks about you whenever you aren’t around.” He said, trying to cheer me up.
   “Yeah right, there is no way Aziraphale, the perfect angel who runs a book shop that is really just a cover for his hoarding problem,  would like me. But it’s whatever, I've resigned myself to watching from afar. I’m fine watching him light up every time he finds a rare book, or finds a new food he likes.” I said in a dreamy voice. “Anyway I’m done talking about it, he should be here soon.”
    Just as I finished the sentence, said angel walked up to us. We both greeted him before checking in on whether any of us have heard from hell or heaven recently, thankfully not. After about ten minutes of quick catch up, Aziraphale stood up and turned to us. “Would either of you care to join me for lunch?” He asked with a bright smile.
   I was about to decline when Crowley spoke up with a wicked smirk. “Oh I’m not in the mood to eat right now but our dear Y/n would gladly join you.” He then pushed me off the bench towards the angel ignoring my glare.
   “Well then, shall be off than Y/n.” Aziraphale said as he reached for my hand. I hesitantly accepted it, not missing the thumbs up Crowley shot my way as me and the angel walked away. 
   As we approached the small dinner we had picked for lunch Aziraphale took notice of me being more quiet than usual. “Is everything alright? You’ve been oddly quiet.” I could hear the concern in his voice as we took our sets.
   I gave him a small smile before responding,”Everything is fine just feeling a little under the weather I guess.” I said hoping he would accept the answer and leave it at that.
   “Oh, are you sure you are up to getting food then, we could go back to the bookshop and I could make you a nice cup of tea?” The angel asked, making my heart swell and blush rush to my checks. “You do look a bit warm.”
   I silently cursed myself of course he would notice me blushing. I tried to think of an excuse. “I’m fine really, it’s just a little warm. Let’s just order.” I watched as he let out a sigh before waving down the waitress and placed our order. I relaxed slightly hoping he finally let it go.
   After about thirty minutes, we had finished eating and were now walking back to Aziraphale’s bookshop. It was an awkward silence, I could tell he wanted to ask me about something but I wasn’t sure what. As we turned a corner on to a less crowded street he stopped suddenly, I turned and looked at him confused. We were only a couple blocks from the bookshop, why did he stop all of a sudden.
   “You’re hiding something from me.” He said out of nowhere, his tone wasn’t angry but more concerned. “I heard you talking with Crowley before. I didn’t hear everything but I could tell it was something about me because you ended the conversation saying ‘he should be here soon.’. And I don’t want to over step but if there is something you need to tell me please just tell me, I promise to listen. I’m really good at Listening.” I could tell he was worried that it was something bad.
   I froze for a second before walking up to him. “It’s nothing bad, I just don’t know how to tell you this.” I said, looking away slightly. “Look, you don’t have to respond now or ever actually, but I like you, a lot. And I know you probably don’t feel the same but I just needed to get it off my chest. I love how much you love books, and helping people.” I finally got the words off my chest hoping to at least still have one of my best friends.
   There was a pause before he smiled at me and grabbed my hands. “How could I possibly not feel the same way? Yes you tend to go about things in a less than angelic way but that’s part of what makes you so amazing. I love that about you, I love that I can talk to you about my rare books and you will listen, I love that you get along with Crowley cause let’s be honest he’s not the easiest to talk with. It’s amazing to have you here. So I do feel the same, and never be scared to tell me your feelings. I am here to listen.”
    I just looked at him in shock. Crowley was right, Aziraphale does feel the same. I was at a loss for words but I settled on giving him the biggest smile I could before pulling him in for a hug. As I pulled from the hug, he placed a hand on my cheek and smiled. I knew that whatever came next, we would have each other's back. Little did I know that what came next was a very naked Gabriel who had no clue who he was or why he was here. This was gonna be fun.
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mvltixcc · 2 months
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Girls Like Girls - Robin Buckley X Cheerleader!Reader
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Summary: Robin has a crush on the new girl in town. Y/N is also a new member of the cheer squad, which means Robin sees her all the time at games and other school events. Unfortunately, Robin is put in a tough situation. She's scared to talk to her because the cheerleaders have a reputation of being mean girls and she fears that Y/N may not feel the same. Little does Robin know that Y/N does not appear as she seems. Y/N becomes best friends with Eddie, which seems unlikely at the surface due to different social circles. This leads to rumors of course and word spreads like wildfire here at Hawkins, which then makes Robin's feelings even more confusing. After hanging out with Steve and the gang, Robin starts to see a different side to Y/N. Will they end up together or will they just remain friends?
Word Count: 2.7k
Pinterest board for inspiration
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
Chapter 3
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After that night Robin couldn’t stop thinking about you. Every time she thought about how sweet you were to her, she couldn’t help but get butterflies in her stomach. She liked the warm fuzzy feeling you gave her. Had she really misjudged you? Deep down Robin knew that Steve was right when he said that you weren’t mean and scary. But she would never tell Steve that though, he’d never live it down. 
Some time had passed since Robin and Y/N’s last interaction with one another. They saw each other in the halls and would exchange waves and smiles. It was unfortunate, but they both became super busy with practice as it was football season. At least Robin got to see you there and she took what she could get. In her mind she felt like you weren’t just cheering for the guys, but also for her too and that alone brought her comfort. 
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“Have you talked with her yet?” Steve asked as he was cleaning the front windows. He had been nagging about Robin talking to Y/N for weeks since their moment in the store. 
“No, now will you stop asking me that! There have been more important things happening in my life, like the football games!” Robin states.
“Yeah, which she’s also been at, might I add!”. Steve added. 
“Not helping!” Robin responded.
“You know to me it seems like you’re avoiding her.” Steve said sarcastically. Robin rolled her eyes and went back to work. Maybe she was avoiding you, she feared you would reject her and that terrified her. “Well good thing for you, now is your chance.” Steve stated as he pointed to the door. Robin looked in that direction and saw you about to walk in.
“Oh god, how do I look?” Robin said as she began to frantically fix her hair and brush off her clothes. She wanted to look nice for you, she didn’t want to appear to be a mess, even if she was one half of the time. 
“You look fine, don’t be nervous.” Steve remarked as he tapped his friend on the shoulder. 
“Wow I’m totally cured and not even more nervous at all!” Robin exclaimed sarcastically. 
“Hey stranger! It’s been a minute since you’ve been by, thought you might have forgotten us or something.” Steve joked as you walked in. 
“No no no, I could never forget you guys!” Y/N chuckled and gave Robin a wink. That sent her into overdrive. If her face wasn’t looking like a tomato before, it surely was now. 
“What do you need? That sounded rude, oh god I'm sorry!  I just mean do you need uh- help with finding a movie or something.” Robin rambled as you headed toward the counter. 
“It’s okay!” Y/N giggled. “I’m actually here for a job interview! With football season coming to an end, I need something to do so I figured I’d look around for a job.” She smiled. The thought of you working there with Robin was enough to make her pass out. She would be able to see you everyday and she had no idea how to handle that. 
“That’s um- neato.” Robin stated awkwardly. There was a brief moment of silence before Keith had called you in the back to be interviewed. “Well I’ll see you guys in a bit, wish me luck!” You said walking away from the pair of friends. 
“Neato? What the hell is wrong with you Buckley, get it together!” Steve proclaimed.
“I don’t know I got nervous and you know what happens when I get nervous!” Robin said, panicking. 
“Yeah I’m well aware of what happens.” Steve joked.
“Oh god what am I gonna do if she gets the job?” Robin stated, still panicking. 
“Oh I don���t know, maybe talk to her and tell her how you feel?” He remarked.
“You’re not helping Harrington!” She replied, now pacing back and forth. 
Some time had passed before you had walked out from being interviewed. “Alright fine you want my help? Watch this.” Steve said, setting down the items in his hand. “Hey you, how did the interview go?” Steve asked as you made your way back to the two of them.
“I think it went well considering I got the job!” Y/N cheered.
“That's great! So listen, I’m having a little Halloween party at my place next Friday and Robin here was wondering if you'd like to go with her?” Steve conveyed as he pointed to Robin, who looked like a deer in the headlights. 
“Wait really, you want me to go with you?” You questioned. Robin gulped hard. It was now or never and she had to face it head on. ‘Thanks a lot Harrington.’ She thought to herself.
“Oh um yeah yeah totally, it’d be super fun if we went to this party together.” She said with nervousness seeping into her voice. Robin hated how hard this was for her. “I totally understand if you don’t want to-” 
“I'd love to go with you!” You interrupted. “Are we dressing up? Ooooo maybe we could dress up together or something, that would be so cool!” You said with excitement. Your eyes lit up as you continued on, which caused Robin’s cheeks to flush once again. 
“That would be great! We’ll see you then!” Steve said with pride. You all waved your goodbyes and as soon as you had left, Robin gave a smack to the back of Steve’s head.
“Ow! Is that any way to thank your friend after scoring you a date?!” Steve exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head. 
“You could have at least given me a heads up that you were gonna do that dingus!” Robin groaned. 
“Well excuse me for trying to help a friend. Maybe a little thank you would be nice.” He said. 
“Yeah I’m not thanking you just yet Harrington.” She chuckled. What had Steve gotten her into?
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It was finally the day of the party and to say that Robin was a mess would be an understatement. She had so many thoughts running through her head and all she could really feel was fear. Robin had thought about canceling because it would be better than the alternative. As she got lost in her nervousness, she saw that Y/N was approaching you with a slight skip in your step. “Hey hey hey, I’m so excited for tonight! We’re gonna look so amazing! You have your costume right?” You asked. 
“Yeah yeah I uh have it.” Robin assured, clearing her throat. Y/N let out a sigh of relief. They finished planning out any last minute details and departed as the bell rang for first period. “Well I’ll see you later Robin!” And with that you walked away with that same cute little skip in your step. 
Robin made her way to her first class and sat in her seat. She felt a little at ease after the conversation she had had with you. She started to daydream of how the night would go, but was soon interrupted. 
“So, Y/N tells me that you and her are going to Harrington’s party tonight?” Eddie inquired, leaning over to her. 
“Hello to you too Munson, and for your information yes we are going together. What about it?” Robin stated with a rather blunt tone. She didn’t want anyone, not even Eddie to ruin this night for her. He looked taken aback from her comment.
“Hey hey, I come in peace!” He said, raising his arms up. “I just want you to look out for her is all. She doesn’t usually go to parties like this and is only going because you invited her. It’s also her favorite holiday and I don't want it to be ruined for her.” Eddie stated sincerely. 
Robin just stared at him for a moment before speaking. “Oh yeah sure, I’ll make sure she’s okay.” She had no idea you were only going because she invited you. Well Steve asked, but that's besides the point. Eddie nodded to Robin and went back to his seat. She was now determined to make sure you both had a good time tonight.
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Robin had waited out front for Y/N to arrive at the party, she had already been there helping Steve set up. She could see Eddie’s van coming down the road and soon pulled up to the front yard. Robin stood from where she sat on the steps and made her way toward the van. You excitedly opened the door and jumped out to hug Robin. She was so caught off guard she almost forgot to hug you back. 
“Robin, look at you, you look so pretty!” Y/N said, pulling away from the hug and getting a good look at the girl in front of her. Robin could feel herself turning crimson. She wasn’t expecting to hear that from you. “I um, oh thank you.” She replied nervously. “You also look uh pretty.” She couldn’t help but stare at you in awe. You wore a simple black slip dress with some knee high socks and tall boots. She thought you looked beautiful. You thanked her for the compliment. Robin could see the blush creep upon your cheeks, which caused her stomach to do flips.
“I almost forgot!” Y/N said, turning back to the van and grabbing something from the front seat. “Our hats!” You said with excitement. You both had decided on being witches, it was super easy to find everything considering this was all last minute for the both of you. You put your hat on and helped Robin with hers shortly after. While you began to move bits of hair out of Robin’s face, she couldn't help but stare into your eyes. The way your (Y/E/C) eyes sparkled into the moonlight, she was mesmerized. You were so beautiful. 
“There, all better!” You said. You turned to Eddie and waved goodbye and soon he was off. “Ready to party?” You asked. Robin nodded and you both made your way inside. There was a good amount of people there already, the music was going and people seemed to be having a good time. The both of you had been dancing and laughing. Robin really enjoyed your company. She was happy that she didn’t cancel. Steve had pulled you both aside and took a picture with his polaroid. Soon after the picture was taken you had excused yourself to use the restroom. 
“Soooo are you having a good time or what?” Steve joked. 
“Okay okay, I’m having a good time. You were right or whatever.” Robin had rolled her eyes and chuckled.
“See I told you you would!” He was happy for his friend, she deserved this after everything she had gone through months prior. 
Their conversation was soon interrupted by the jocks making their arrival known and Chrissy coming up to the two of them. 
“Wow Buckley, I’m surprised to see you here!” She said with her usual sarcasm. 
“Why is that a surprise? Steve is my friend, you know.” Robin replied with annoyance.
“Oh well because you're at the bottom of the food chain. You really think you can hang out with people like us? Ha, that’s pathetic.” By this point people had been watching this spectacle go down, which only made it worse as it fuels Chrissy’s behavior. 
“Why do you care so much?” Robin questioned. She didn’t understand why it bothered her so much what she did. Robin never did anything to the cheerleader, at least to her knowledge. 
“Because there’s an order at this school and you my dear, need to be put in your place!” Chrissy said as she threw her drink onto Robin. The party grew silent. 
“What the shit Chrissy?! Robin, are you okay??” You asked standing in front of her trying to block people from looking at the scene ahead of them. Chrissy laughed as you attended to Robin. Robin with tears in her eyes, shook her head. “Let's go upstairs and get you cleaned up.” Y/N suggested. The party continued on as you brought her up to the bathroom to get washed up.
“I’m so sorry about her.” Y/N apologized, helping her clean off of her dress. 
“It’s fine, I should be used to this right?” Robin sniffled. 
“Hey look at me.” You said, putting your hand to Robin’s face so she could look at you. “It’s not fine. What she did was awful, you don't deserve to be treated that way by her or anyone else for that matter. You’re so special and kind Robin, don’t you ever forget that okay?” You said with sincerity, rubbing your thumb on her cheek. You flashed her a warm smile and she smiled back. Still holding her face, you gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. 
“Stay right here for me okay?” You requested and Robin nodded. Y/N had left the bathroom for a moment and Robin was unsure why. Before she knew it, Y/N had returned from whatever you were doing. “Alright, let’s get you out of here.” Y/N stated grabbing Robin’s hand and heading downstairs. 
“Oh god now what is this mess?!” Chrissy exclaimed as you and Robin made it back to the crowd of people. You turned around to face her.
“Just drop it okay, we’re going.” You said, trying not to make the situation worse. By this point there was nothing but silence. The music had stopped and everyone was looking on at the disaster before them.
Chrissy chuckled. “You think you’re so special huh? Befriending the losers of this town? Well let me tell you something, you’re not! First it was the town satanist freak, I mean I thought that maybe it would be a little phase because he was the first person you met here. But now this, the dorky band girl? I mean come one how low can you go at this point?! You really need to-”
“You know Chrissy, you of all people you should know not to judge a person before getting to know them. I’m also only going to say this once so you better listen well, don’t you EVER talk about my friends like that again. And quite frankly the only thing I need to do is take my friend home and get the hell away from you! Come on Robin, let's go.” Still holding onto Robin, you both make your way to the front door.
“If you walk out that door, then you’re off the team!” Chrissy yelled over the crowd. You stopped in your tracks, Robin giving you a sympathetic look letting go of your hand. She knew how this was gonna go down. ‘It was fun while it lasted’ she thought.
“You can’t kick me off the squad.” You say turning to face the head cheerleader. 
“Oh yeah and why is that?” Chrissy humored the girl. 
��Because I quit.” Y/N announced as she took Robin’s hand again and walked out the front door. Eddie had pulled up with his van just in time. You both climbed into the van and soon you were off. “Let’s get you home.” You said, still holding onto her hand.
Next Chapter
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theerurishipper · 7 months
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Hey I have a question I read some takes that Adrien is a supposedly good liar? How though are there any examples..I always just assumed people never put two and two together with his identity is because he doesn't connect much with the class nor does Gabriel so it made sense in my head. I'm sorry if I don't actually make sense I just assumed that if even one of the classmates kept getting closer with him maybe he'll open up. I thought that'd be Nino but like I feel that he's so much more closer to his girlfriend and with Kagami that scene where she backed him into the wall and she said that wasn't the real him when he did goofy poses made me uncomfortable and sad for him. Marinette kind of disappoints me as a love interest like that time he was in the park on the bench and she decided that this was the perfect time to give him a present made me annoyed like I understood she has such a huge admiration for the guy and will climb mountains for him but I thought she'd get past that and they'd have like a one on one you know a talk. Usually the love interest would start to bond and grow closer but like I feel she's more into the relationship for herself because of this whole fantasy she builds up in her head it's why their relationship kind of a bummer.
I don't think Adrien that hard to get him to open up to but again this is my own opinion. I don't know really I just feel if someone like a teacher, classmate or even Master Fu get him to open up more and more and they start to bond. I feel like all he wants is a relationship to not be so conditional if someone kind enough allowed him a shoulder to cry on or even acknowlege his habits or when he's in a bad mood I think it'd work I ain't sure though. I wish the dude had more male friends.
I don't really get why the classmates just think Gabriel a strict dude when he seems pretty abusive. Marinette especially she knows how strict he is especially in season 5 and the whole adrigami thing and even with Chloe mom lol I think abuse or parental abuse just doesn't register an actual thing in her mind which is weird lol.
I don't watch Miraculous religiously lol I just watch it sometimes so if my takes and memories are wrong please forgive me. I am so sorry for this being a long ask I ramble way to much.
No need to apologize anon! Feel free to ask me anything.
Personally, when I say that Adrien is a good liar, I don't mean lying in the traditional sense. He doesn't do a lot of actual lying (except when it comes to his secret identity), but it's more than he doesn't really reveal his true self to anybody. He doesn't fake his personality per se, but he only shows people the parts of himself that he thinks they will like because he's been conditioned to believe that he has to conform to everybody's expectations of him and be perfect for them. It's why Chat Noir is so different from Adrien Agreste™, because he's always performing in every part of his life. And putting on a mask at all times isn't the best way to connect on a deeper and intimate level with the people around him. I think Adrien's friendships with Nino and Kagami and everyone else is real, and whatever he shows them is genuine, but it's still not all of him, and he still feels the need to hide the parts of him that he feels they won't like. His relationship with Ladybug is an exception (obligatory until Season 4 disclaimer) because while he's still putting on a performance, it's not for the sake of pleasing her.
You mentioned his closeness with Nino, and I always felt that Adrien was more at ease with Nino than anyone save Plagg. He was more relaxed and at ease with Nino in like, Seasons 1 and 2, enough to show a little more of himself, and I got the sense that he was a little more open with Nino. Then Rocketear happened and Adrien pretty much shut down on that front and started to put on the mask even more, and their friendship never was the same after that.
The thing with Kagami is that she was right about Adrien. Chat Noir isn't his "true self," it's a persona based on him acting out in the way he's never allowed to as Adrien. And the model Adrien is a persona crafted based on the demands from his abusive father who expects him to be perfect. Kagami isn't able to see under Adrien's mask, but she's able to understand that he's putting on a front, and she wants him to quit it.
Marinette kind of disappoints me as a love interest like that time he was in the park on the bench and she decided that this was the perfect time to give him a present made me annoyed like I understood she has such a huge admiration for the guy and will climb mountains for him but I thought she'd get past that and they'd have like a one on one you know a talk. Usually the love interest would start to bond and grow closer but like I feel she's more into the relationship for herself because of this whole fantasy she builds up in her head it's why their relationship kind of a bummer.
This is exactly the problem I have with canon Adrienette. Marinette literally doesn't even know that Adrien is putting on an act, and she literally thinks he's perfect. It was so funny to me when Pretension made Gabe out to be so wrong and evil when he accused Marinette of falling wholesale for Adrien's performance, because Gabe was fucking right, damn it.
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The problem is that the show never challenges Marinette's view of Adrien. She doesn't have to learn to look past his masks and see him for who he really is, he just up and tells her thanks to an Akuma's influence, and then he spends the rest of the time in Season 5 pursuing her, so she just gets handed her trophy boyfriend without having to put in the effort of getting to know him as a person. The show never wants Marinette to be inconvenienced by *checks notes* learning to see Adrien as a person, and it just wants her to get her dream relationship without an effort on her part to truly understand him. She's not much different from the rest of her class or any of Adrien's fans, because they all just see what they want to see and what he shows them. By virtue of them being the endgame, Marinette should have been special in that she tried to look past the masks to understand the real Adrien once she realized his "perfection" was a front and an act, but she didn't. She remained as delusional about him as she always was and got the relationship dropped in her lap. Thanks, I hate it.
I don't think Adrien that hard to get him to open up to but again this is my own opinion. I don't know really I just feel if someone like a teacher, classmate or even Master Fu get him to open up more and more and they start to bond. I feel like all he wants is a relationship to not be so conditional if someone kind enough allowed him a shoulder to cry on or even acknowlege his habits or when he's in a bad mood I think it'd work I ain't sure though. I wish the dude had more male friends.
I don't think it's that simple for him to break out years of being conditioned to conform to other people's needs, but the fact remains that, you know, no one even cares. Kagami was literally the only one who cared enough to try and understand him, and even she was made to spend Season 4 as Adrien's bitter ex (not Kagami salt, I love Kagami, this is just writing salt). The rest of the class admits in Felix that they don't really know him, and they never really seem to try to get to know him either. They do care about him, but not that much, you know? Everyone is honestly content to keep seeing him as the perfect guy, and no one tries to see the real him. Like I said, I feel like he was a little more open with Nino in the earlier seasons, and he's more open with Plagg, but that's about it. He was a little more open with Ladybug, but that also went down the drain in Season 4 because of the Ladynoir conflict. It took an Akuma for him to open up to Marinette. I don't blame anyone for falling for his act, but they clearly don't really care to get to know him either. I think you're right in a way, that he would be a little more willing to drop the act if someone tried to understand him, like Nino and Plagg. But no one cares, unfortunately.
I don't really get why the classmates just think Gabriel a strict dude when he seems pretty abusive. Marinette especially she knows how strict he is especially in season 5 and the whole adrigami thing and even with Chloe mom lol I think abuse or parental abuse just doesn't register an actual thing in her mind which is weird lol.
Tbf they don't know much about what goes on inside the Agreste household, and they are just kids, so I understand that they wouldn't be able to completely recognize what's going on with Adrien. But the show itself doesn't think Audrey and Gabriel are abusive, and Marinette is basically the mouthpiece for all that, hence the solution is that apparently Chloe and Audrey should just bond, and Adrien should be fed a lie that Gabriel is not a bad guy actually. Marinette seems to have a pretty black and white view of the matter, and since she comes from a loving home, it doesn't really register to her that parents can be so awful. But the show frames Marinette as in the right to push Chloe and Audrey together when what Chloe needs is to get the hell away from that abusive person. It tries to frame her as right for gaslighting Adrien into loving his abuser. It's pretty nasty stuff.
But that's just my opinion. Honestly, I think the best meta on this subject is this excellent post by @fearlessinger. It's a wonderful analysis, I highly recommend it.
Thank you for your ask!
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musical-shit-show · 7 months
Text
dancing is a dangerous game
Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader
Inspiration: Prompts #2 (“apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”) from Prompt List 1 and #15 (“would you ever consider going on a date with me?”) from Prompt List 2 requested by @animetattoochick
Warnings: mentions of drinking, strong language, suggestive dialogue, anxiety, mutual pining
Word Count: 2,305
Author's Note: We’re back baby! Thank you so much to @animetattoochick for this request and so sorry for the delay. I’m working through my other requests now and have more time this coming month to catch up. And very fitting since it’s spooky season and I have some more BJ requests in the pipeline ;) As always, check out my Masterlist, About Me page, and Prompt Lists if you’d like to submit a request! Happy reading!
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“Do you want to go? I feel like it’s getting a bit crowded in here and the door’s right there—”
“Are you drunk?” Dewey asked incredulously, “We just got here!”
You groaned, wishing you were more drunk than you were. Dewey had a natural charm that allowed him to get away with way too much, including convincing you to go out. This time, it was a birthday party for one of Ned’s friends, and the degrees of separation barely warranted you being there.
The party was in the back room of the Roadhouse, and you nodded at some familiar faces as you still tried to formulate an escape plan. You weren’t the biggest partier, and would much rather be hanging out with your best friend on his couch.
You didn’t know when you first became friends with Dewey. You occasionally moonlighted as a substitute teacher, and after a few instances of bumping into Ned, he introduced you to his girlfriend, Patty, and Dewey.
The rest was history.
And although he was one of the only people you could truly rely on, you still found yourself cursing him for pushing you out of your comfort zone.
“Come on, I thought you liked the Roadhouse,” he egged, noticing your arms crossed over your chest in protest, “And they’re actually taking requests tonight! Maybe they’ll play some of that pop bullshit you like.”
Your mouth fell open slightly, then lilted upwards in an indignant smile. Dewey was also a master of getting under your skin.
“Excuse me, Finn,” you responded, “Just because you listen to metal and classic rock 24/7 doesn’t make your music taste any more superior to mine.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart,” he joked, pressing the bottle of beer he was nursing to his lips.
You scanned the room, and relaxed your shoulders as you noticed some familiar faces. Dewey was always the more adventurous one, the one who lit up a room. You didn’t mind fading into the background.
“I’ll uh, go find Patty,” you said, and Dewey’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. He really thought you’d put up more of a fight, “I’ll stay. For now. If you buy me a drink.”
He flashed a toothy smile, glad he could keep you around for a little while longer. “A fair trade. I’ll get right on it.” He gave a small salute, causing you to break into a grin of your own.
You made your way over to the other side of the bar to greet Patty, who was furrowing her brow at her phone. Never a good sign with her.
“Hey!”
“Hey, sorry, just finishing up this email,” she droned, rolling her eyes.
“Work?” She nodded wordlessly, and after a few silent moments, she locked her phone with a click and breathed a sigh of relief.
“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job…” she affirmed, rubbing her temples. You sat down at a stool next to her.
“Hey, well, at least it’s done, right?”
“Right, and I don’t have to think about the mayor’s schedule for another 48 hours, so I’m gonna get wasted,” you laughed at her directness as Ned sat on the other side of her, “You in?”
“Oh, uh, maybe?” you were still on the fence about staying too late, and the thought of a hangover did not sound enticing. “Dewey’s grabbing me a drink now, so—”
“Ugh, Dewey,” Patty said, earning an eye roll from Ned. You guessed he wasn’t thrilled about his best friend and girlfriend constantly warring, “When are you two going to hook up already, anyways?”
Your felt your face get hot with blush at the question. You and Dewey? The thought hadn’t crossed your mind. Not for a while, that is.
“What?”
“Oh my god, you’ve already hooked up, haven’t you?” she said, pulling you closer. You could feel sweat forming on the back of your neck, “Tell me everything.”
“Patty—”
“Ned, I swear to god—”
“No!” you said over their bickering, “I mean, sorry, no. Dewey and I, we’re not, I mean, we’re just friends.”
Patty looked at Ned, who quirked an eyebrow. Suddenly you felt very out of the loop.
“Does he know that?” she asked, a devious smirk spread across her face. You loved Patty, but sometimes her gossiping was beyond dangerous.
Before you could answer, Dewey arrived, a drink in each hand. “Jack and Coke, per usual,” he smiled, handing you the glass. You grabbed it, and immediately took a long swig.
“Whoa, killer, slow your roll,” he laughed. Patty and Ned both shifted on their stools. Dewey eyed the three of you suspiciously, “Why do I feel like I missed something?”
“Don’t worry about it, Dew,” Ned replied. For all of his nervous tendencies, he was pretty good at deflecting, “Wanna play some pool?”
You breathed a small sigh of relief as the two men headed towards the billiards tables, leaving you to finish off your drink and work quickly to order another.
***
“Why do you think me and Dewey hooked up?” you asked Patty, several hours and drinks later. Though you hadn’t crossed the threshold into full drunkenness, you were just tipsy enough to gain some courage.
She sighed, twirling the straw in her gin and tonic. “Because, my love, I see the way he looks at you,” she said, not an ounce of irony or sarcasm in her voice, “And don’t act like you don’t spend every waking moment together—”
“Because we’re friends!” you shot back defensively, “I mean, I’ve never even…I didn’t think he’d like me that way.”
Patty quirked an eyebrow. “Well, do you like him that way?”
A pit formed in your stomach almost instantly as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. The alcohol in your veins was making you particularly honest.
“I guess, I don’t know…yes. I think. It’s complicated, okay?” you finally spat out, your voice hushed in fear that someone else would hear you, “He’s my best friend, and I didn’t want to ruin what we have so…I never did anything about it.”
For once, she shot you an empathetic look. Her and Dewey were reluctant roommates on the best of days, but even she was heartened by your babbling. “Well, no time but the present,” she said with a smirk.
Patty grabbed your shoulders to turn you ninety degrees, and you saw Dewey standing next to Ned, also a few beers in and clearly having a good time. You gulped, a slower pop song blaring in your ears as the weathered disco ball spun languidly.
“Move along now,” Patty taunted in your ear, “Ned and I have a little bet going about you two.”
“What?!”
“Just for fun,” she said, giving you a little nudge forward, “we have to entertain ourselves somehow, don’t we?”
You walked away from her, and before you had time to think, you heard yourself asking “Wanna dance?” to Dewey, who looked genuinely surprised by your proposition. Ned snuck off without a word, leaving the two of you alone.
A small smirk played on Dewey’s face as the two of you stepped towards the dance floor; there were several other couples dancing near you, and despite your liquid courage, you were praying you wouldn’t be the center of attention.
There was a brief moment of awkwardness as you placed your arms around his neck. It wasn’t like you and Dewey had never danced with each other before; he always had a way of dragging you to the dance floor when one of his favorite classics was played.
But now, you were acutely aware of the way his hands rested on your hips, and how your breath smelled like vodka, and the thin veil of sweat that was making his usually unruly hair stick to his forehead.
“Oh, come on,” he teased, his eyes flickering to your stance, “I think we can do better than the ‘leave room for Jesus’ bullshit, don’t you?” You laughed, realizing how far you were standing from him. It was as if you had been transported back to your 8th grade school dance.
Dewey grabbed one of your hands and laced his fingers with your own. You couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as he pulled your body flush to his, while his other palm gripped your waist tightly.
“That’s better,” he smiled, giving you another once over. Clearly the booze had made him more daring as well. You grinned back, doing your best to hide your newfound nerves.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“I don’t know, I’m just having a good night,” he shrugged, the two of you swaying in sync as the song continued, “You should try it sometime.”
Your mouth fell open slightly at his jab, “Hey, I’m the one who asked you to dance, remember?” you fired back, “Or are you drunker than I thought?” He shook his head in denial. “Quick,” you mocked, removing your hand from his and flashing three digits, “How many fingers am I holding up?” Dewey barked a laugh, gently grabbing your hand again. You smiled nervously at the gesture, your heart beating faster in your chest.
“Why did you ask me, by the way?” his voice uncharacteristically soft, “Not that I mind, but you know I’m used to more headbanging while I dance.”
You smiled, glancing over at Patty and Ned. They were watching you intently, drinks in hand. Of course.
“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together,” you tried to say nonchalantly, “Or more accurately, that we’ll sleep together. Or, have slept together. I don’t know—”
“Breathe,” Dewey stopped you, “It was Patty, wasn’t it?” You nodded sheepishly, and he shook his head in disbelief, “I swear that woman knows exactly how to drive me insane…I told her nothing is going on between us.” You couldn’t help but notice that his voice had a slight tinge of sadness.
Now was your chance. You said a silent prayer that your nerves wouldn’t get the best of you.
“I mean…it’s not that crazy of an idea, is it?” you probed, doing your best to not shift your eye contact away from Dewey’s brown ones, “We do spend a ton of time together…honestly thinking about it, I kinda get why everyone thinks we’ve…”
Dewey’s eyes widened in mild surprise as you trailed off, the implication clearly hanging in the air. He never would’ve thought he’d be the cautious one when it came to this topic.
“Yeah, sure,” he conceded, “But wouldn’t that, ya know…change things?”
He always had feelings for you, but he didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship. You were too important to him, and an amazing friend, so he had silently resigned himself to hold those feelings close to his chest.
You swallowed your fear and shoved it down your throat. “Of course,” you became acutely aware of your palms growing sweatier by the second and hoped he didn’t notice, “But is it bad that I don’t care? Maybe we could give it a try. It could be good. Really good, even.”
“Goddamn, what has gotten into you tonight?” he threw your own question back at you as you felt your face getting flush.
“Maybe I don’t want to be a wuss anymore,” you smiled, “You should take notes, Finn.” He barked a laugh at your teasing.
Your stomach flipped as a completely new expression came over Dewey’s face. Well, at least completely new to you; who knows how he looked at you when you weren’t paying attention.
But you could tell from the way he eyed you that something finally shifted. “So,” he said coyly, “Since I’m a gentleman, I’m just going to make sure I do this the right way: Would you ever consider going on a date with me?”
Before you could answer, he spun you around and dipped you playfully, a giggle bubbling out of you as the song came to a close.
“Duh, you idiot,” you laughed, heart swelling in your chest now that the pent-up feelings you held onto for years were finally released. How could you have missed what was right in front of you for so long? You were almost embarrassed that Patty had to spell it out for you.
“Or maybe we could skip the date and go back to your place instead?” Dewey couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow suggestively. He certainly didn’t wait to start the blatant flirting, and you weren’t exactly complaining.
Still, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Why, so you can avoid Patty for the rest of the night?”
“…Maybe.”
“No.”
“Can you blame me? She’s a nightmare.”
“She’s fine, Dew,” you said as you both walked away from the dance floor, “And you have to admit, she clocked us pretty well.”
“I am not drunk enough to pay that woman a compliment,” he retorted, crossing his arms across his chest. You knew he was only partially kidding but still laughed anyways, “And she wasn’t right about everything. We haven’t hooked up. Again, we can definitely change that—”
“Don’t make me punch you, Finn,” you threatened, a playful smile dancing on your lips. You couldn’t believe how easily you both slipped into casual flirting; then again, you wondered if you had always been doing it without even realizing.
It was clear everyone else noticed, not that it mattered anymore.
“Kidding,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender, “Kind of.”
“How about this,” you proposed, reaching the bar again. Luckily none of your friends were around to grill you just yet, “You buy me another drink, we dance some more, and see where the night takes us?”
Dewey’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal.”
*****
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Winter pt. 2 | JJK
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Hello darlings!!!
Pairing: royal guard!Jungkook x princess!Reader, prince!Jimin x princess!Reader (ft. Yoongi & Hoseok)
Summary: In which you, princess of the Gyeongdong Dynasty, were in the middle of wedding plans. An arranged marriage that would guarantee your father's bloodline to stay on the throne.
Or in which you are assigned a new royal guard that swore to protect you with his life. Jeon Jungkook. That's his name. A name you could never forget. A name that, slowly but surely got engraved not only on your memories but also in your heart.
Love, politics, betrayal and desire. All in ancient history. A love that never should have happened, two souls that wouldn't be allowed to be together.
Warnings: angst, fluff, implied smut, pregnancy, descriptions of delivery, pregnancy complications, arranged marriage, blood, character death, heartache, yearning, forbidden love, more angst, Jimin is a sweetheart, heartbreak, fainting, heart disease, Jungkook writes poetry, funeral, mentions of reincarnation, ANGST (WARNINGS APPLY TO BOTH PARTS!) (Let me know if I missed anything!)
Word Count: 13, 152k words
A/N Hi, darlings! It's been so long since I posted Autumn for you guys and I am so terribly sorry for the months wait. I really hope you will like this third part of "Four Seasons"!
I've been working on this for months now but lately I've found new inspiration to finally finish this and trust me, it will be a total roller coaster! Thank you so much to the people who commented on the other two parts as they all gave me such motivation to return to this story!
A/N I had to divide Winter into two parts because apparently Tumblr doesn't like to have too much paragraphs in one post! The two parts of this long chapter are linked on the masterpost of this series! Please let me know what you thought of this part, I really hope you will like it and it leaves you yearning for more! Without entertaining you further, happy reading, everyone!
💜 Boraghae ARMY 💜
~Taglist for Four Season: @valhallawhispers @lovingkoalaface @seokout @ackercute @jksusawife
Isn't it beautiful how the seasons change?
Isn't it beautiful how you never do?
For you are that summer flower I once saw.
Dressed in delicate petals of love.
You are the snow that freezes my heart.
You are the soft breeze on an autumn day.
My sun during summer and my flower during spring.
But I cannot touch you. I cannot hold you like my soul wishes to do.
My darling. My love. My woman. My soul.
What did I do to not have you by my side?
Is love a crime?
Then I am a criminal, even when it was you who stole my heart.
I miss you. I want you. I need you.
I cannot breathe without you near me.
I prefer death than a fate where we can't be together.
My moon. My sun. My Queen. Owner of my being.
Jungkook jumped in his seat when the door to his room slid open. He placed his brush aside before standing up to face Hoseok.
"The Queen requests your presence in her chambers, Jungkook."
The younger man nodded and placed his papers in order before he left his room following Hoseok through the large corridors of the palace.
It has been three days since you gave birth to Prince Ha-joon. Three agonising days in which he hadn't seen a glimpse of your existence. And it was killing him. His memories of you were too far to grasp and take console in them.
Jungkook didn't recall having to walk all the way from his room to your personal chambers. He didn't remember when Hoseok announced his presence, for he was brought to reality when you spoke his name. Your voice being the only thing that could bring him back from his thoughts.
His eyes met your own in a dance of emotions that he had to clasp his hands in front of him to stop them from shaking.
"You called for me, Your Majesty."
He bowed down at you and you sighed, realising how much you hated when he bowed at you when you'd go on your knees with only a word falling from his lips. He had that power over you. That way to command you. To make you feel.
"Jungkook."
The man before you lifted his gaze and your eyes met his once more. Had it been within any other circumstances, you'd have smiled and ran toward him. How you wish you could embrace him, how you wish you could kiss him and declare your love for him. How you wish you could love him freely.
You were sitting between blankets and cushions, taking rest after the hard labour. The prince lied next to you as he slept soundly while being wrapped up in luxurious fabric.
"I haven't seen you in a while."
He smiled. Not that smile that reached his eyes or that warmed your insides. It made you shiver with the sadness within it. Like a cold breeze on a winter day.
"I was told you were to rest, my Queen. Captain Min ordered me to give you some space, at least until you are feeling better."
You smiled, gesturing for him to sit in front of you, which he did. A moment of silence passed between you both. Your gaze lingered on his handsome features, drawing a map of him in your mind.
"I missed you."
He sighed at your whispered confession. Those words clawed at his heart with nothing but a heavy guilt that existed within him.
"My Queen... please."
You took a deep breath at his pleading, his begging. You looked aside as your heart constricted in your chest.
"Forgive me."
He looked at you with eyes full of emotions you weren't quick enough to grasp. Why must love hurt so much? Jungkook shifted his gaze from your figure, focusing on the little bundle where the prince, your son, slept peacefully.
"Congratulations on your baby. May prince Ha-joon live a long and happy life with his family."
His words weren't cruel, you should have thanked him for his blessings but it only caused you bitterness. Because Jungkook wasn't a part of that family. You had made your life without him and that realisation sank within the caves of your soul in that moment.
All those times you had dreamed, wished, pleaded and imagined your future, Jungkook was always in the picture. He always stood next to you. But fate was a cruel force. That was only a dream. Your reality was different from what you had once wished and still desired deep in your heart.
A life with him. An opportunity to love. For him. For you. To love Jungkook.
"Thank you."
Those words left your lips in a soft whisper. Afraid of speaking any louder, afraid of facing reality once more. There existed enough pain in your life, you didn't want to add salt to the wound but it kept happening. Every time you saw Jungkook you were reminded of your love for him and that distant dream of the future you once saw yourself dancing in.
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Life in the palace continued. The days passed, weeks turned into months, months turned into years as the seasons changed. Time was frozen while it escaped at the same time. It made you remember, it made you forget. It made Jungkook let go, it made him yearn.
He guarded you, protected you like he had vowed to. You smiled in your solitude, dreamed in your agony.
Petal of a yielding flower.
Host of my mind.
Lover of a taken heart.
Queen of my life.
I see my universe in your eyes.
Life is not fair,
but neither is death.
For I live in a world of lies.
I own you my smiles,
my tears are yours to be held.
And when I wish my time would end,
I remember what it was to love such beauty on this earth.
My sunrise. My light. My dusk. My night.
Cradle me in your embrace.
Let me live in your heart.
Grant this wish to this poor man.
Or end my life;
for in death shall I find peace from this cruel destiny.
Jungkook sat against a tree, watching you from afar. Your baby boy just turned two years old this summer. Now it was autumn. The leaves were dying, the air was cooler but his love for you still existed in his heart.
You were with Jimin, the both of you were in the garden playing with Ha-joon. Jungkook saw you smile and laugh from where he stood. The jealousy and bitterness he once felt toward the king had melted like ice on a summer day. His soul was filled with the remnants of his feelings. A melancholy lived inside him about the "what if's" of his life, of what had happened.
Jimin had taken some time from his busy schedule to spend it with his little family. He loved seeing you smile, he was happy at that moment. Everything was perfect. Everything was like he had once imagined it to be. His son was already walking around, a bit clumsy but he was too cute to not stare at the little prince.
Ha-joon had your eyes, he had his father's lips as well. He was a really cute combination of his parents who loved the little boy too much.
You watched as Jimin lifted Ha-joon before the both of them fell into a pile of dry leaves. You chuckled, crouching down on the ground after having been running around the place. You panted with a soft smile on your face, printing the image in front of you into your mind forever.
Your husband picked up the little boy in his arms before walking back to where you were. He offered you his hand and you took it as you stood up from the ground.
"Are you fairing, My Queen?"
He asked, a bit of concern behind his words. You nodded, brushing your skirt with delicate movements.
"Yes, I'm just tired of running all around the garden."
Jimin chuckled, looking down at Ha-joon who clung to his neck, also tired after playing for some time now.
"Let's get back then."
His hand grabbed yours as he began to lead you back to the small tent in the garden where a table with fruits and tea rested. It was near a large tree where Jungkook stood writing his poems with words carried by the wind. He saw how the king began to approach and put down his papers and brush before standing up.
He bowed when you and Jimin entered the tent. Your husband handed Ha-joon to one of the damsels with care and soft delicacy.
"Put him to sleep, he's tired."
The young woman nodded, taking the little prince from the king's hold before she left with your son in her arms. You sat down on the soft cushions with Jimin by your side, he poured you a cup of tea with elegance. Just like he had done many moons ago when he was only your fiance.
You thanked him with a soft smile, taking the cup as your fingers brushed his with the motion. Jungkook watched as you took a sip of the hot beverage, his eyes travelled down your profile, taking in how beautiful you looked at that exact moment. Not that you had ever looked ugly to his eyes, but in that precise fragment of time, you looked ethereal. Mesmerizingly beautiful. He didn't have enough words to describe your beauty at that moment.
Jimin was about to take a sip from his own cup of tea when Captain Yoongi came jogging toward the tent. He bowed down at you two before speaking, his voice laced with urgency.
"My king, may I have a quick word with you?"
Your husband sighed silently, putting his cup down on the table before standing up. He glanced down at you for a second only to then walk away with Yoongi by his side. You saw how they discussed something in the distance but you couldn't tell what it was as they were both out of earshot.
You let out a deep breath, putting your own cup next to Jimin's before you looked up at Jungkook.
"Do you want some tea, Jungkook?"
Your question brought him back to reality as he savoured the way his name sounded on your lips. It was the sweetest melody he had ever heard.
But he shook his head. Not allowed to show any emotion on his features.
"No, thank you, My Queen."
The response he gave you sounded dry and it made your heart clench with desire.
"Are you alright? You've been... distant as of lately."
He looked down at you but this time, you didn't see the storms of emotions hidden in his doe eyes. You didn't see anything. And it pained you to know that perhaps he didn't love you anymore. Because you still did. With all your heart.
"I am merely doing my job, Your Majesty."
You wanted so bad to reach up to him and hold his hand, to feel him. For him to ease your chaotic heart.
"Then don't. Please, Jungkook, do not distance yourself from me."
He sighed. It didn't matter how much distance he put between you both, if it were in words or even an ocean in the middle of you two. You always managed to pull him back.
"I have to, My Queen. Otherwise, I won't be able to resist the temptation. I could harm you. I could burn you with the flames of my love. I could destroy the life you have now. I could taint you with my carnal desires. I could do things... unforgivable things and the only wish I have in this life is for you to not be harmed. And for that to happen, I must put distance between us, even when my heart screams your name."
Your eyes filled with tears at his confession. At the revelation of his heart, his desires, his yearning for you. He still loved you, he still wanted you. He would always be yours.
"My heart is yours as well. Do not deny me the pleasure of existing next to you. Your existence is more than enough to soothe my wounded soul, Jungkook."
He bowed at you softly, eyes glazed with his own tears as emotions swirled once more in his dark orbs.
Jimin began walking back and you had to blink back the tears in your eyes. You distracted yourself with your cup of tea as he sat down next to you again.
"What happened? Captain Min looked serious while talking to you."
He smiled at you, eyes closing with the action before answering. His voice was soft and calm, like a summer breeze.
"Nothing to worry you about, Queen of my heart."
You sent him a tight smile, placing the cup on the table. Not feeling in the mood of drinking more tea.
"(y/n), you're bleeding."
Jimin said, causing Jungkook to look at you alarmed as you felt something trailing down your nose. You wiped it only to see that your fingers were painted in crimson. You wiped again and again but the blood continued to flow.
Your husband grabbed a soft handkerchief and pressed it to your nose.
"It's nothing. I probably ran too fast while playing in the garden.
But the king wasn't tranquil with your response. He felt something, as if words were whispered in his ear to not let it be unattended.
"I'll call for a physician."
Your hand grabbed his, something Jungkook didn't miss from where he stood. He watched your tangled hands with your marriage rings on your finger as you stopped your husband from getting up.
"I'm fine, Jimin. I promise. This has happened to me since I was a child. Don't worry, please."
That seemed to calm him down a bit as he settled back on his seat next to you. Holding his handkerchief below your nose as the bleeding began to stop gradually.
"Be careful, alright?"
You nodded at his words, your eyes shifted momentarily to Jungkook's wide gaze and you tried to reassure him as best as you could without a word leaving your lips.
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The days were colder with the arrival of winter. Such beauty fell from the grey skies, a beauty that burns with ice.
Jungkook was reminded of your wedding day as he strolled down one of the corridors. The weather, such coldness invaded his mind, his thoughts, his heart; just like that day. When he witnessed you become the wife of another man. When he watched you lose your freedom and your life changed forever.
A feeling of melancholy suddenly invaded his heart, squeezing it with the cold claws of fate.
He took a turn, his mind lost in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the voices in the hallway. Jungkook felt how something suddenly crashed into his legs and he was quick to react and grab the hand of the little boy who was running absentmindedly. The little boy who was your son. The prince of the dynasty.
Ha-joon looked up and Jungkook saw his resemblance to you. He had your eyes. He smiled softly to the boy until Hoseok came jogging to where they stood.
"My prince, come on. Don't run away like that again."
Hoseok said, his eyes trained on the little prince who looked at him and then shifted his gaze back to Jungkook. The younger man let go of the kid's hand and Hoseok was quick to pick him up.
"He's a handful sometimes."
Jungkook chuckled, remembering those summer days when you walked in freedom through the gardens. He saw you in your son as memories swam in his hand.
"I can imagine. Kids at his age are always curious and full of energy."
Hoseok let out a soft laugh, looking at Ha-joon in his arms and also seeing the resemblance of you in him.
"Thanks, Jungkook. He suddenly ran away from me."
"It's no problem. Take care of him, Hoseok."
The older man nodded before he turned around and walked back down the corridor.
"Kook!"
The little prince exclaimed with a wide smile, his lips were plump like his father's and his cheeks puffed out cutely with the motion. Jungkook smiled and waved at the prince who waved back with his little hand before disappearing around the corner in the arms of Hoseok.
He sighed. Once more being left alone with his cold thoughts on a winter day. With frozen hopes and a blurred future.
You were in your room watching how the snowflakes fell slowly to the gardens. Your embroidery was left forgotten on your lap as your mind got lost in your memories.
A knock in your door interrupted your train of thought. You cleared your throat and straightened your posture before saying in a steady voice.
"Come in"
The door slid open and Hoseok entered with Ha-joon in his arms. You smiled at the sight of your child and your best friend set the toddler down as he ran clumsily towards you.
"Mummy!"
You hugged the little prince when he crashed into you and you couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. He was too cute to resist. He began playing with your embroidery as if it were the most interesting thing in the world, tracing his little fingers over the drawings.
"My Queen, the little prince is very eager to explore the palace. Do you want to take him to the gardens and let him play in the snow? Maybe that'd tire him out a bit so that he can sleep soundly tonight."
Your hand caressed your son's dark hair, taking in its softness before you turned your focus back to Hoseok.
"I'm tired, Hobi. I don't think I'd be able to run around in the gardens."
He nodded, eyes shifting to Ha-joon whose world now rotated around your elegant embroidery.
"Do you allow me to speak freely, Your Majesty?"
You nodded at him.
"Of course, I've told you many times that you do not need to ask for such a thing. You are my best friend."
He smiled lovingly.
"Those words are simple formalities, my Queen, but what I wanted to say was that maybe you could accompany us to the gardens. Have some fresh air. I can play with the little prince, but he misses his mother."
You smiled, looking down at Ha-joon who returned your gaze with big eyes.
"Alright then, hand me my coat please and tell one of the damsels to dress the prince warmly."
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You stood under the palace roof, a heavy coat over your shoulders as you sipped on some hot tea while watching Hoseok play in the snow with little Ha-joon. A soft smile graced your lips at the sight and the sound of your little boy's giggles.
A shiver ran down your spine when a cold breeze blew your way, strands of hair flying with the wind. Hobi let himself fall on the snow with a dramatic yell, making you laugh as Ha-joon went to lay on his chest.
"Up, up."
The prince said, trying to get Hoseok to stand up and pick him up but the man layed there panting softly.
"I'm tired, my prince. Hold on."
You watched them both fondly, your eyes lowered to the tea in your cup until you felt how your heart skipped a beat.
"Kook!"
Ha-joon had said. Your hands felt cold against the warm cup, your soul froze when you looked up. There he was. Jeon Jungkook. You hadn't seen him in days. And before today there were only small peaks here and there followed by short greetings.
Jungkook turned to look at you, your eyes met his from across the garden. You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the mere sight of him. Your hands trembled around the cup, forcing you to put it away.
He bowed down at you slowly yet his eyes never left yours. Emotions invaded your body as you stood up from your chair. Hoseok noticed your actions and sat up, Ha-joon left his side and ran with his little legs where Jungkook was.
Your royal guard smiled down at your son and Hoseok stood up from the ground, walking the steps to where you stood.
"Your Majesty, are you alright? You look pale, should I walk you to your chambers?"
But you shook your head, your eyes following Jungkook's figure as he approached you with Ha-joon by his side. The little prince was telling him something that you couldn't hear and he smiled widely. Flashed him that bunny smile you loved so much and had missed just as fiercely.
Jungkook bowed down at you once he stood in front of you. Ha-joon looked up at the man next to him and mimicked his actions. Your heart clenched at the sight. Having the man you loved and your child who was your husband's son before you was too much for your heart.
It clenched inside you, it burned, it ached.
"Your Majesty."
Jungkook acknowledged you. You nodded softly at him and he rose to his full height. Ha-joon doing the same.
"Kook! Play, together."
Hoseok watched the interaction from where he stood. His own heart clenched at the sight of your hidden pain. You have always been an open book for your best friend. You had been able to hide your love from your father, even from your husband but not from Hoseok. He had known you for his entire life. He knew you, he knew the core of your heart. He knew your unspoken words. He knew.
"Only if the queen allows it, my prince."
Jungkook's eyes found yours once more. A sad smile painted his lips. Ha-joon was a clear resemblance of you but also of his father and Jungkook was reminded once more of what he had lost the day you married Jimin. Of that dream that he wished would become his reality was instead a mountain of ashes. Of burnt dreams and wishes.
You smiled tightly at the pair in front of you, not wanting to deny sweet Ha-joon of his free days and innocent happiness.
"You may play, but please be careful."
Jungkook bowed down and your little son once more mimicked him with a sweet giggle that would have made you smile had you been in another circumstance. Ha-joon's small hand curled around Jungkook's fingers as he "dragged" him further into the garden. The man clearly gives in to the desires of the child. Not without glancing your way one more time.
You took a deep breath when they were both far away from you. As if you were suddenly able to breathe when he was not near you but playing in the snow as the giggles of your prince were heard. You blinked back the tears that had gathered in your eyes, you wouldn't cry now. It was not the time for that.
"My Queen, please take a seat."
You refused Hoseok's suggestion with a shake of your head. Even if you wanted to move, you couldn't tear your gaze away from Jungkook and Ha-joon playing together.
If only fate had been different.
If only you hadn't been a princess.
If only your story was written with another ending.
Then the scene before you would have been a happy one. But Jungkook was not the father of your child and you didn't want to question your fate with Jimin. It wouldn't be fair to him when he loves you just as ardently as you love Jungkook.
Time slipped from your fingers like water from a river. Cold to the touch. Liquid to the memory. You watched them play and laugh while your heart teared apart within you.
Soft footsteps were heard from your left but you didn't shift your gaze from your giggling little prince.
"My Queen,"
The voice of one of your damsels spoke and you didn't have to look at her to know she was bowing down at you.
"His Majesty requests your presence in the Main Hall."
You took a deep breath, the cold air of winter burned your lungs with the motion but despite the action, you still felt as if you were being suffocated.
"Queen (y/n)."
Your eyes met the worried gazed of Hoseok as uncertainty painted his dark orbs.
"It's alright, take care of Ha-joon for me."
Hoseok bowed down at you as you straightened up your posture and looked at Ha-joon and Jungkook for a moment before you forced yourself to walk away. You weren't aware of the concerned look your best friend gave you nor the longing gaze Jungkook sent your way.
He watched you walk away and despite all the times he had witnessed the same sight, his heart still clenched upon seeing you leaving him behind.
You didn't look back. You couldn't. Your heart wouldn't be able to take it. Each step you took forward hurt like an arrow piercing your heart over and over again. You closed your eyes, taking in the pain in your chest.
Fate gave you the cruellest gift you had ever received. A glimpse of your dream life only to be shattered by reality like ice against a wall. It hurt. Your hands trembled even when you clasped them in front of you to keep them warm. It was useless.
You lived in an eternal winter. Your heart was frozen, your soul had crumbled to a pile of white snow tainted with the ashes of your dreams. It was fair. But life has never been fair to you. To anyone, actually.
But you weren't a victim here. Not anymore. If fate didn't want you and Jungkook together, you'd fight in each and every lifetime to meet with him again and complete your story next to him. You owned it to him, to his love, his devotion. His innocent heart that carried the purest love within him.
Tears clouded your vision and a lump grew in your throat. You weren't a victim, but that didn't mean you couldn't cry about your misfortunes.
The tears began rolling down your cheeks, feeling how your heart ached for a man who would never be yours and a future you couldn't live.
You had to cover your mouth to quiet the sobs that threatened to spill from your lips. For it had been too much for your soul to endure. You had gotten to your breaking point, the point of no-return. It hurt. The mere thought of Jungkook was enough to make your heart clench in your chest.
You took a deep breath, tried to calm yourself as you walked down the large corridors. Your hands wiped your cheeks but the lump in your throat stayed, the pain in your chest didn't fade. Almost as if it had found its home within you.
You were about to meet your husband in the main hall of the royal palace. You couldn't be seen crying and less for another man you yearned so fiercely for. You were the Queen. Mother of the Crown Prince. Wife to the King of Gyeongdong. Daughter of the dynasty.
You had to be strong.
You could cry in private later. But not now. It wasn't your place to do so. A Queen doesn't cry. A Queen is strong. A Queen fights. You sighed, taking strength from your own aching heart to continue walking, to face your reality. To live in this written fate.
Even when your mind was elsewhere, even when your hands trembled and your feet itched to turn back and run into the arms of your lover. Even when your chest didn't stop hurting, you held on. Just like every other time before.
You just held on.
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The king sat on his throne, the ministers had just left the large room after their council and he had a deep desire to see his wife. Jimin let out a sigh, his mind going back in the seasons, remembering. Going back in time in his mind.
He remembered your wedding day, he remembered the cool autumn day when he saw you for the first time. He had heard the princess was beautiful but no words were enough to describe your beauty in front of him.
The sound of your voice was forever engraved in his memories, your smile was sweeter than any candy in the world. He had fallen in love with you. He loved you, all of you. There was nothing in this world he wanted more than to spend his life with you. His queen. The mother of his child. The owner of his heart.
Maybe he loved too quickly. Maybe he trusted too soon. But he didn't regret it. Jimin was happy. He was living the life that was planned for him since birth yet he was happy with the fate painted before him. He wanted it. He craved it.
"You're wearing it."
Jimin's voice brought you out of your thoughts. Looking up at him with a confused look, he elaborated while a chuckle escaped his lips.
"The hairpin. You are wearing it. I'm glad you like it."
You nodded at him with a small smile.
"It's really beautiful."
You weren't going to lie about that. It was truly one of the best jewellery pieces you'd ever seen. The Prince's cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink, a shy smile over his lips. He stopped out of a sudden and you halted in your steps. Looking up at him with curiosity, Jimin grabbed one of your hands between his and said while his eyes were glued to your joined hands.
"I'll speak without formalities for once as this is something I need you to know not as a Prince but as your fiancé."
You nodded and he continued.
"(y/n)..."
Your name in his lips was sweet, said with such delicacy and devotion. A sweetness similar to your favourite fruit.
"... I'm so glad it is you who I am going to marry. After we get married and the coronation ceremony is completed, I want you to know that you will always be my equal as the Queen of Gyeongdong. I know we were arranged but I sincerely hope we can grow something from this.
You will always be treated fairly, I promise. And I'm so lucky to have such a beautiful fianceé."
You couldn't help the smile that graced your lips. It was a grateful smile. You knew he wouldn't force you to do anything, he would always respect you and give you your place. The Prince of the Park family was a good man with a noble soul; a gentleman who was going to become a great ruler.
"Thank you, Jimin. I really appreciate that."
He smiled. His eyes closed with the action and you couldn't help but think it was cute. He had a pretty smile, you had to admit that.
The memory flashed in front of his eyes in a second. You still wore that hairpin he had given you. You liked it, he had watched you admire it and it fueled his pride as your husband.
“What are you all doing standing here? Don´t you know she could get sick with this?”
Growled the prince at a nearby royal guard who cowered at the imposing tone of the man. Jimin was seen among the palace staff as a sweet and loving personality who was made to receive and give love in each of his lifetimes. That’s why the guard felt suddenly so intimidated as the prince had never acted nor spoken in such a way. 
“We are aware, Your Royal Highness. But the Princess ordered us to not interfere. She said she'll kneel until the counsellor's son is safe. There was no way of persuading her!”
Jimin cursed under his breath as his feet carried him towards you. He didn’t care about the rain, about the stares of the maids and staff, he didn’t care about anything else other than you. 
You were kneeling on the cold stone floor. The palace was in front of you in all its glory but you could only care about your best friend. Why was life so complicated? When has your life tangled itself up with these kinds of problems? 
Why did summer end so suddenly? 
Your tears rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the pouring rain that fell from the greying skies. A chilly breeze made a shiver run up your spine but you weren’t going to leave. You weren’t going to surrender that easily so you stood firmly, ignoring the pain in your knees, ignoring the coldness in your skin. Ignoring the sadness in your heart and not minding the tears that escaped your eyes. 
But suddenly, you didn’t feel the rain any longer. The chilly air didn’t attack your back any more and you had to look up to find the source of such a blessing only to be met by the profile of the Prince of the Park family, he was looking forward not seeming to mind the cold rain that was quick to drench him. His right arm extended his outer robe over you, keeping the rain from cooling you any further.
He looked down, feeling your gaze on him only to be met with your drenched figure. Your eyes were red and puffy, filled with tears. And he felt his heart clench at the sight of your pain. If he was able to take it away he would do it in a heartbeat. You didn’t deserve such a burden. Such pain. 
And he made a silent promise to himself that once you both got married, he would move mountains for him to see you smile. 
You deserved it, after all. 
Everyone deserves happiness. Even you, the beautiful Princess everyone thought had it all but in the end, you were just lonely. Broken by the mends of society. 
Jimin took a deep breath, memories of you began to flash in front of his eyes like raindrops. Unstoppable. He felt a sudden need to see you, be with you, hear your voice. So he stood up from his throne and walked out of the main hall in hopes of meeting you in one of the main corridors.
Urgency carried his steps, feeling a darkness enclose his heart in cold ice of desperation. He needed to see you. Jimin didn't know why such urgency had taken control of him but he couldn't fight it. He walked and rounded a corner, seeing you standing on the other end.
He smiled.
A window was behind you, the white gardens stood in the background as he took in the image of you. You just stood there, not even looking at him but lost in your mind. At least that was what he saw, he began to approach you.
He saw you frown and he halted in his steps for a second. But that second dictated his fate once more as he submerged in a cold river, surrounded by water of fear that froze his bones.
Your hand went up to your chest as you pressed onto it. You gasped, feeling how your heart ached within you. But this time it was worse, worse than the subtle pain you felt there every time your thoughts drifted to Jungkook and that lost future living in the land of dreams. This pain was different.
Your hand clutched the silk of your dress as you took a step forward, your other hand grabbing a table resting against the wall with a vase on it to try and find your balance once more.
You heard footsteps from your right and you turned only to see Jimin walking down to where you stood with worry on his face. Tears gathered in your eyes due to the pain.
"Jimin..."
He could barely hear his whispered name leave your lips before he saw you take a step towards him but you tumbled, hitting the table and making the vase fall and crash against the wooden floor as you collapsed before him.
He rushed to you in panic as fear wrapped around his heart. Jimin cradled you in his arms as he checked for a pulse, tears gathered in his eyes at the sight of you but he couldn't help but sigh upon noticing you were still alive.
"My darling... (y/n), open your eyes. Please..."
Yoongi was rounding the corner when he gasped at the image in front of him. He was quick to approach the desperate king with fast steps.
"Your Majesty, what happened? Is she alright?"
Jimin didn't turn to look at the slightly older man, one of his hands caressed your face delicately, as if you were a soft summer flower.
"I don't know, call the physician. I'll take her to my quarters."
Your husband felt his heart clench at the sight of you so vulnerable and weak in his hold. Captain Min bowed down at the king before he stood up and ran in the opposite direction.
Jimin picked you up in his arms, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes as he held you tightly against him. The scene he had just witnessed was something he'd never forget, for it had been horrible to see you in what he could guess was pain. He hated to see you like that and now, as you were being cradled in his embrace, a fire burned within him.
Flames of fear combined with fuel of anger at your state. He pressed an almost harsh kiss against your temple, murmuring in your hair words only meant for you to hear.
"Hold on, My Queen. You'll be alright. I promise."
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Jimin laid next to you, supporting your body in his strong hold. The royal physician was examining you. He could feel his heart squeezing in his chest. Worry fueled his soul and fear set it aflame.
Time tickled by slowly, everything was moving too slow. Everything felt too hollow. Everything was colourless. The royal physician held her breath as she took your pulse. The room stilled. No-one dared to move, let alone breathe.
She let out a sigh and retrieved her touch from your soft skin. Jimin looked up in anxiety. Waiting, expecting, needing to know what the elderly woman had to say.
"What is it? Is she alright? Speak, woman!"
She didn't flinch at the king's desperate tone as she kept her gaze low while clasping her hands in her lap.
"Your Majesty... it's a heart disease. I think the Queen has always had it but since her rather difficult birth... it came alive, so to speak."
Jimin didn't know what to say, his soul ached at the sight of you in his arms as endless possibilities came rushing to his mind like lightning during a storm.
"Can you cure her?"
He already knew the answer to that question. A hand of his came to caress your cheek softly while tears gathered in his brown eyes that gazed lovingly down at you. He knew the answer to his own question yet your husband held onto that last sliver of hope his soul refused to let go.
"I can give her something for the pain, My King."
Was the physician's answer. Her voice delicate, words being carefully selected.
"Yes, but can you cure her?"
Her eyes met the intense gaze of the king as he turned to look at the woman dressed in a blue hanbok. A tear escaped his eye as it rolled down his cheek slowly while his heart was beating wildly in his ribcage.
"I'm sorry, Your Majesty."
If someone had stabbed him with a thousand arrows Jimin was sure would have hurt less than those four words that left the woman's lips. He cradled you against him, pressing your limp form to him as if he could prevent the horrid fate that awaited you from taking you from his side.
"Leave. I want to be alone."
The royal physician stood up and bowed down at the broken man along with the maids and guards in the room at the whispered command of their king.
The door slid shut and silence drowned the room. He was left alone with you but this wasn't a joyous moment. Jimin lied you down on the bedding beneath you as tears rolled down his cheeks. His hand held yours with a delicate touch as his eyes roamed over your figure.
"You cannot leave me, (y/n). You can't. You belong here, with me, with Ha-joon. You cannot leave me alone."
But those words didn't reach your ears. You didn't hear his begging, his pleading. And he only held you tighter. Wishing that this was just a sick nightmare of his.
"Please... Queen of my heart. Do not leave us behind."
One of Jimin's hands fisted the soft fabric of your dress, needing to ground his thoughts, to be in the present and stop his mind from picturing all the horrible scenarios in his head.
"Do not abandon me in a world without you by my side."
Fate was cruel. Jimin loved you but now you were going to be robbed from him. He didn't know when, he didn't know how much time he had left with you, he didn't know how much pain you'd have to endure. He didn't know he'd have so little time next to you and that fact pained him beyond words.
"I need you, Queen of mine. I love you."
Words weren't enough to change fate. He knew it. He knew everything yet he still tried. He pleaded to the heavens to not take you, to not rob you in such a cruel way.
"I love you, (y/n)."
But love wasn't enough to save you from death. Love wasn't strong enough to keep you next to your husband. To watch your son grow into a fine prince that would rule the kingdom one day. Love wasn't enough. It had never been.
Jimin knew that but he still cried. He still pleaded, he still hoped.
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Snow fell wildly outside, the wind could be heard when you opened your eyes and found yourself in Jimin's room, rather than your own. You had been resting in his bedroom for some days now, not really sure how many.
Hoseok was by your side the next second as he helped you sit up, he didn't speak a word and your heart shook within you at the sight of your distressed friend. You watched as he prepared your medicine, silence fell into the room as the candles flickered in the middle of the night.
"Please take your medicine, My Queen."
He spoke, holding the spook with the tonic you had been taking for so long, it seemed.
"Don't make me take it again, Hobi. It's too sour."
He sighed, eyes lowering onto his lap but still holding out the spoon to you.
"Please, Your Majesty. It'll help you get better."
You took a deep breath as you leaned forward and opened your mouth, taking the medicine like your friend wanted you too. Even when you shut your eyes shut and scrunched your nose at the taste, you managed to swallow it.
"I won't get better, Hobi. You know it too."
You weren't a stranger to your disease, Jimin told you himself about your predicament. You remember how your heart broke at the sight of his distress, his eyes were red and puffy, shining with new tears that he refused to let go. His hands shook as they held yours.
Hoseok sighed and the soft noise brought you out of your thoughts. He put the spoon and bottle aside as his eyes locked with your own and you were able to see the sorrow in his usually cheerful gaze.
"I know. I'm sorry, My Queen."
Your hand rested atop his as a soft yet sad smile was painted over your lips.
"Don't apologise. Don't be sad. Don't cry. Why don't you bring me some fish-shaped pastries and you tell me what Ha-joon did today?"
He nodded with a smile that didn't reach his eyes before standing up without saying a word. Hoseok walked down the corridors back to the king's chamber where you were resting with a round container in his hands where the pastries rested. He couldn't help but let his mind wander back to those summer days when you were still a princess and your worries revolved around what silk to choose for your next dress.
He wanted to go back to those golden days when the sun shone brightly and warmth filled the palace.
"Princess!"
You turned around at the sound of the voice of one of your closest people in the palace. The royal counsellor's son and a dear friend of yours, Jung Hoseok.
When he arrived next to you a smile was painted over his lips, he bowed down at you making you frown a bit.
"Stop it, I've told you many times before that you don't have to bow in front of me."
He chuckled, his hands behind his back as he straightened back up.
"Yes, I have. There are so many guards and court ladies that could see and that wouldn't be good for me, princess."
You sighed at his answer. He had said it time and time again but you just wanted to have a normal friendship, was that too much to ask? Maybe it was. At least for now.
"I'm sorry, you are right. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble because of me."
Hoseok smiled and that made a small smile paint over your own lips. That was a power only he had, he would smile and it would make you smile too.
"It's alright, I can be sneaky when I want. Especially to the kitchen. They never knew when I was there."
That made you let out a snort before laughing completely. Forgetting about proper manners or who could be watching you at that moment, you just lived that fragment of time. Enjoy it how it should be enjoyed.
"Speaking of..."
He continued, bringing his hands in front of him only for you to notice the small package covered with white fabric. You smiled widely at him.
"...I managed to sneak out some fish-shaped pastries."
You let out a squeal while Hoseok unwrapped the package and opened the lid for you to see he had bought your favourite dessert.
"Thank you, Hobi! I've been craving this since last week!"
With that, you took one and immediately began eating it, savouring the sweet flavour inside your mouth as you closed your eyes for a moment.
"Why didn't you just order for the maids to bring some pastries to your room, your highness?"
You sighed, swallowing the sweet treat only for then to say, your joyous face turning slightly sombre when the bubble of happiness was suddenly popped with reality.
"I am not allowed to eat anything like this, at least not until my wedding day. King's orders."
Hoseok's eyes widened in surprise at your words. Panic flared through his features as he came to the sudden realisation that he was disobeying the king's direct order. He looked around frantically, searching for people nearby that had witnessed him giving you the pastries while you continued to munch on another bite of the sweet treat.
The next thing he did, however, made your eyes widen as the remainder of the fish-shaped sweet was taken from your hand rather abruptly only for Hoseok to throw it in his mouth at the end. It all happened too fast you were left staring at your best with a dumbfounded face.
"Yah! Why did you d-"
You cut your sentence when you spotted one of the court ladies followed by a group of maids appearing in your peripheral vision. You quickly straightened your back while Hoseok hid the package he was holding behind his back, swallowing the remains of the pastry he took from your hands.
The court lady bowed when she stood in front of you, the other maids mirroring her actions. When she stood back up, she said, her voice cold and her attitude as strict as always.
"My Lady, His Majesty; The King, has requested your presence at the main hall."
You curtsided softly, a soft smile on your face.
"Thank you, I shall go there immediately."
And with that, you turned around and began walking along the large gardens with Hobi following you at a proper distance. When you rounded a corner and were out of the court lady's sight, you sighed. Hoseok caught up to you and you smiled at him.
"Thanks, Hobi."
Those whispered words made him smile, he looked back before saying.
"I should probably go back, I'll see you later, princess."
You nodded at him with a soft smile over your beautiful features and he bowed slightly at you only for then to fast-walk to the opposite direction from where you stood. You were left alone again and took a deep breath before you continued on your way to the throne room where your presence was requested.
The memory flashed in front of his eyes in an instant. His heart filled with melancholy at the lost memory in the past before he slid open the bedroom door and found you asleep on the bedding.
Hoseok sighed, putting the pastries aside as he went to blow away some of the candles to let you sleep peacefully.
If only he could take away your pain, your disease, he would. For he remembered how you saved him from death when he was falsely accused of treason, he remembered your desperation. Hoseok was your best and only friend in the palace and he only wished he could repay the favour of saving his life with now saving your own, even if he knew that was not possible.
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"The Queen hasn't left the King's chambers for a while."
"I wonder if she's alright."
"I've seen the royal physician go in and out a couple of times."
Jungkook had heard this and more rumours around the palace. He wasn't going to lie, he was worried about you. He hasn't seen you since that day when he was playing with the little prince in the white gardens.
Maybe she's pregnant again.
That was his main thought and final conclusion. Not wanting to ponder on the idea that much to save himself the heartache. He entered the guard's palace, going straight to his room. Dusk had already settled and the night was cold.
"Yah! Jungkook! Do you know what happened to Her Majesty?"
He stopped in his tracks and turned around, seeing a bunch of younger guards eating some ramen in the corner of the common hall.
"What do you mean?"
He asked. A frown adorning his handsome features. One of the guards stood up from the small table and walked over to Jungkook.
"Do you know why the Queen has not been seen around anymore? Rumours said she is pregnant again."
Jungkook looked past him at the bundle of men gathered in silence to listen to what he had to say.
"Why would I know? I've been taking care of His Highness as of lately."
The man in front of him scoffed, looking back at his peers before glancing back at Jungkook.
"Aren't you the Queen's royal guard? Shouldn't you be with her at all times?"
Jungkook sighed, feeling his patience leave his body quickly. He turned around, waving a hand to the man who wished to pester him with his questions.
"I don't have time for this."
"Why? Are you the prince's babysitter now?"
Jungkook closed his eyes, wanting to disappear from that exact second.
"What's going on here?"
Captain Min's voice boomed around the common room, making everyone go silent, even the men who were only watching and snickering in the corners.
"Nothing, Captain."
"Nothing."
Jungkook and the man in front of him answered at the same time. Yoongi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Go back to your table, Kwon. Jeon, come with me."
The latter nodded, sending a final glare to the man whose surname was now to his knowledge. Yoongi dragged Jungkook to another room with more privacy. He turned around, eyes softening at the sight of his friend.
"What is it?"
Yoongi's question was delicate, a soft tone only certain people had heard of the stoic man.
"I haven't seen her in days, Yoongi. I don't know what is going on and it's killing me on the inside."
The older man let out a sigh, pondering if he should tell Jungkook about your condition or if that information would only stress him further.
"You know, don't you?"
Yoongi looked up only to meet Jungkook's big and sad eyes.
"Yes. But I do not know if you should be aware of her situation or if it will cause you more harm."
Jungkook's heart constricted in his chest with those words. A part of him didn't want to know. He didn't want to risk the heartache, so many possibilities swarmed his head that it made him dizzy.
"Tell me. Please."
He whispered and Yoongi sighed once more. He knew of Jungkook's innocent yet strong feelings for you and he'd hate to break his precious heart but his wish was his right.
"She's sick, Jungkook. The physician examined her a couple of days ago and she said the Queen was born with a weak heart and her long labour worsened her condition. She said there was no cure."
A tear escaped his eye slowly, his heart ached deep within him at the information. You were sick? If you had had it since birth, why weren't you more careful? But all those thoughts did nothing to alleviate his pain.
"I'm sorry, Kook."
Said Yoongi with a heavy voice. In sympathy for his friend for he knew this kind of pain. He was no stranger to heartache. He understood.
"Would you like me to stay or do you want to be alone?"
"I want to be alone, hyung."
His response was empty. Colourless. Cold. Yoongi nodded without saying another word. He quietly walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.
Jungkook closed his eyes as silent tears rolled down his cheeks. He took it all in. The pain. The heartache. The distress. The despair. He welcomed it all and allowed himself to cry in his solitude as snow fell from the sky on a cold winter night with no apparent morning sun to warm his soul.
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A couple of days later you were still in Jimin's room. Hoseok was playing with Ha-joon as you watched them fondly. You didn't have the energy to stand anymore. The disease was deteriorating you, killing you. A part of you believed it was due to the heartache you had gone through that now you were being punished with a heart disease.
How ironic, isn't it?"
Ha-joon laughed, distracting you from your sombre thoughts. You looked at your son, watching as he laughed and enjoyed his time. The little prince hadn't seen you for weeks since you fell sick and he missed you immensely.
"My prince, come here."
You spoke, opening your arms for the little boy. His eyes lit up as he left his toys on the ground and ran towards you. The impact of his little body against yours was enough to leave you breathless.
Hoseok watched as you embraced your son with pain, as if he were to leave and you didn't want to let go.
"I love you so much, you know that, right?"
Ha-joon nodded in your chest before he gazed up at you with a cute smile. You smiled as well, trying to blink the tears that began to moisture your eyes.
"You'll be a worthy Crown Prince one day and the most respected king of Gyeongdong when you grow up. I love you so much, my little prince."
"Mummy..."
Ha-joon put his little hand on your cheeks, lovingly gazing into your eyes as your heart broke into a million pieces realising you weren't going to see him grow and become a great man. Your time in this place was slipping through your fingers like water in your hands.
"I love you too, mummy."
You hugged Ha-joon as your eyes met with Hoseok's sad gaze. He offered you a smile and you did your best to return the gesture, even when your heart was aching, from the disease or from your own pain you couldn't tell anymore.
It had always been a similar pain.
Always there, always cold. Always present in your life.
That night was cold. Hoseok had taken Ha-joon to his own room and verified he was sleeping before returning to tend to you. Jimin hadn't arrived yet as he was busy tending to some ministers and political matters you were no longer aware of.
"The prince fell asleep quickly, Your Majesty. I left Eun-ah to watch him during the night."
You nodded with a smile. Feeling your eyes drop with tiredness. You were already settled for the night, ready to close your eyes and sleep even when your exhaustion wouldn't leave your body.
"Thank you, Hobi. You should go and rest too, you look tired."
For he did. His skin was paler than usual and bags rested under his eyes. You could see it and it pained you to see your best friend so tired and sad all the time.
But he shook his head, a melancholic feeling swam in his warm eyes as he looked at you.
"I would like to wait until His Majesty is with you, My Queen. I do not wish for you to be alone."
Your hand rested over his and he turned to look at you meeting your eyes filled with tears.
"Hobi... what would I do without you?"
He only smiled, not saying a word. Not wanting to break the soft moment so you continued.
"Thank you for being my friend all these years. Thank you for always being by my side and for giving me your friendship."
A tear left his eye and rolled down his honeyed skin at your words. Realising that this was your goodbye to him.
"Please take care of Ha-joon for me. He is really fond of you, Hobi."
He nodded, feeling how his emotions choked him. It pained him to even think of you leaving his side. You, his best friend. His only companion, his princess since childhood.
"I promise, sweet Queen of mine."
You smiled at his whispered promise, squeezing his hand softly. The door slipped open and entered your husband. Hoseok let go of your hand as he stood up in a swift movement. He bowed down at the king before he left the bedroom in silence.
"How are you feeling, Queen of my heart?"
Jimin asked as he knelt in front of you. You smiled. Feeling how your heart ached in the cage that was your body.
"I'm fine, my King."
He knew you were lying. He knew your words weren't true to your reality. He knew it all. He knew you. But he chose to not mind your lies for he didn't know how much time he'd be gifted by your side. He smiled, allowing his hand to cradle the side of your face as he looked at you with pure adoration in his dark eyes.
"Say it. Let me hear my name on your lips. Grant me that wish, grant me that honour."
You swallowed, knowing how much your condition was killing your sweet husband from the inside.
"King of my existence. My Jimin. My sweet husband."
He smiled sadly. His hand left your cheek and took your hand instead, feeling how you gripped weakly onto it.
"I love you, (y/n)."
You could only smile fondly at his declaration of love. His eyes twinkled at your reaction.
"Do you also share my sentiment?"
He asked almost shyly, looking down at his hand that covered yours.
"Of course. How couldn't I?"
Jimin's eyes met yours as he smiled. His gesture was priceless for your words of affirmation was the only thing he cherished to hear, the only melody he wished to always remember and a verse of a poem that would never end.
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"Didn't you have an important meeting with some ministers?"
Your voice broke the silence that hung in the room. You sat facing a large mirror, staring at your own reflection while Jimin was behind you brushing your hair with a golden comb. Your back rested against his chest, your hair rested over your shoulder as he brushed it with delicacy.
"I have more important things to attend to right now. Do not bother yourself with such thoughts, Queen of my heart."
You blushed softly at his words, looking down at your hands resting on your lap. It wasn't snowing outside but the room was cold, shivers ran through your body from time to time despite the closeness of your husband and the many blankets around you two.
"Jimin, can you promise me something?"
He didn't allow the frown that threatened to appear between his brows mark his soft features. He nodded, eyes searching your own through the mirror despite you having your gaze down.
"I'd give you the moon and stars in a golden tray if they were mine to possess in the first place."
You smiled softly, hating to break his heart with your next words. Hating your own fate and feeling your heart constrict within you at the mere thought of his pain the next moment you were to speak. 
“Please don’t lose your smile after I’m gone.”
His eyes lost their spark. The softness in his features disappeared like a burning flame splashed with the water of reality. Your hand grabbed his and at his silence, you continued. 
“Tell Ha-joon that his mother loved him so much.”
Tears gathered in your husband’s eyes, his mind realising this was your goodbye to him but his heart refused to believe his time with you was this short. He didn’t accept that he’d have to let go this sudden. 
“And live every day as if it's your last.”
The crystalline pearls of sadness rolled down his cheeks, his hands squeezed yours as his eyes locked with your own. 
“I’ll find you in my next lifetime, Queen of my heart.”
Jimin brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your skin. As if wanting to seal his love with that small gesture. 
“Thank you, Jimin. For your love and your respect. Don’t lose your spark, don’t cry those precious tears and allow your heart to heal if I broke it without wanting to. Forgive me.”
He sobbed, not wanting to let go of your hand as if that could prevent you from leaving his side. The sound of his sobs and cries shattered your heart and tears of your own began leaking down your cheeks in silence while you witnessed him mourn your fate.
"There's nothing to forgive. I could never be mad at you, not even if you were to kill me with your own hands."
His hands pressed you against him. Needing to feel you close to him. Needing this moment, this memory to be engraved in mis mind and soul so that he could seek solace in it when his heart cried in the darkness. 
You closed your eyes, leaning back against your husband who cried his heart out, whose world was going to be taken away from him. You mourned his sadness while your heart broke at the thought of leaving your little family behind. Leaving your life, your love in a cruel world. 
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The apple of my eyes.
Woman of my heart.
Enchantress of love.
Mistress of my soul.
The days are longer.
I miss you. I need you.
My love gets stronger.
I cry over my solitude.
Did we ever have a chance?
Do I deserve the happiness you bring to this world?
Am I worthy of your hand?
Am I enough to a jewel like you?
Do I deserve your devotion?
Is it cruel of me to want you?
Ever so fiercely. So fully.
My darling. My Queen. My lover. My everything.
Live in my heart forever.
Stick in my mind to eternity.
Don't leave this man to suffer with your absence.
Don't leave me to burn in my own ashes.
A sudden knock on his door made Jungkook break out of his trance, he put the brush down and stood up as the door slid open and he was met with Hoseok. His eyes were casted down, not meeting the soft gaze of the royal guard.
“Jungkook, the Queen requests your presence in His Majesty’s chambers.”
The younger man’s heart sped up at the thought of seeing you. He hadn’t been able to even get a glimpse of you since that day in the gardens. His soul was desperate to see you, his heart screamed at him to go and search for you. It was torture, to separate two lovers, that is. 
Jungkook nodded, not missing the way Hoseok’s demeanour was different. He looked sad, worried. Cold. He wished he could ask him what was wrong but feared he’d be overstepping a line with the slightly older male who was a dear friend of yours. 
 "Thank you, I'll go there immediately."
Hoseok nodded with a soft movement before he stepped out of the room. Jungkook sighed, arranging his papers correctly before heading out the door.
His feet carried him along the large and cold corridors of the palace. His heart was in his throat as nerves bubbled in his stomach. 
Jungkook was a brave soldier. He has fought many battles as scars adorned his body. He has been on the verge of death several times before but ironically, right now was when he felt more nervous than when he was holding a sword in his hand. 
He took a deep breath, standing in front of the King's chambers. He hesitated for a second, not knowing what he'd hear from your lips at the other side of that door. He didn't know how he would react after not having seen you in so many days he has already lost count of. 
He knocked only to hear your command for him to come in. Your voice was soft, weak even. But that didn't matter when butterflies erupted in his stomach at the mere sweet sound of your voice.
Jungkook entered the room the next second, he slid the door closed behind him while he kept his eyes trained on the dark wood below his feet. 
"Jungkook."
His name coming from your lips was the sweetest melody he has ever heard. He had missed it. He had missed you. His eyes locked with yours and he nearly gasped at the sight of you laying on the soft bedding, your skin was paler than usual, your eyes were tired and your body was beyond weakened.
"Your Majesty."
He acknowledged you. Bowing softly at you without tearing his gaze from you. He saw you shift in your position, laying on your left side so you could see him properly. You smiled and in an instant his dark world was lightened by your existence. 
"Come closer, Jungkook. Come here."
Your hand extended towards him as if trying to reach him. He couldn't hold himself back any longer upon your innocent request as his legs moved with a mind of their own. Nearly jumping until he was kneeling by your side, his hand holding yours ever so softly.
“I heard… I heard that you are sick, my Queen. Is it true?”
Jungkook asked almost shyly. Not meeting your eyes as his own gaze was fixed on your joined hands. 
“It is.”
He sighed at your response. Feeling how his heart clenched within him. Tears watered his dark eyes and a lump grew in your throat at the sight of his sadness. 
“Don’t cry, Jungkook. Don’t waste your tears over me.”
He looked up at you, his expression hurt with your words. A frown was between his brows, eyes watered with his materialised sadness and a soul that he could no longer carry on his own. 
“How can you say that to me? I am dying with you, my Queen. Only you are capable of causing me the greatest pain yet it is you who eradicates it as well.”
You squeezed his hand, feeling your chest aching. Your mind was shutting down as you gazed at the man you loved with your entire being. 
“Forgive me.”
He shook his head, refusing to let his tears roll down his cheeks as his eyes roamed over your face as if trying to memorise all your little details in his mind. 
“It is I who should beg for forgiveness. I cannot protect you from this, I have failed you. I cannot prevent you from leaving me.”
A tear left the corner of your eye as you looked at him with so many unsaid things and raging emotions you were never able to pour out. It was too much. Too much love. Too much longing. Too much sadness. Too much anger. Your heart couldn’t take it any more.
“Maybe you can’t make me stay, but you gave me the opportunity of knowing what it was to love. Even when we couldn’t be together in the end, I still love you. I will always love you, Jungkook. In each… in each lifetime.”
Both of his hands squeezed your own, feeling your grip on them weaken by the second. What kind of punishment is this? To love you so fiercely, so wholeheartedly only to be snatched from him like this? What did he do in his past life to deserve such pain, such misfortune, such punishment? 
Is love a crime?
“You still wear it, huh?”
He asked, sniffling softly while his eyes locked with the small red braided bracelet he had given you that autumn day. When life was kinder. When it wasn’t as cold as winter. When he still held hope for happiness. When life was simpler...
 “I never took it off.”
You whispered, smiling up at him as your eyes traced his features. 
“I love you, Jungkook.”
Tears rolled down his cheeks, not being able to stop them any longer. He smiled through his tears, needing to say the words back to you. 
“And I love you, (y/n). I’ll love you in every lifetime, in every form, in any timeline. I will always love you.”
You chuckled softly, squeezing his hand with all the strength you had left in your body. 
“You’ve said it. Thank you.”
He smiled down at you. Remembering how you once pleaded to him to speak your name, to hear it come from his lips. He could no longer deny you such pleasure. He wished he had said it that time. 
“I’ll see you again. I’ll see you in my next lifetime.”
Jungkook nodded, taking a deep breath while not being able to look away from you. He wouldn’t dare to. 
“I’ll find you. I promise.”
You smiled. Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Your eyes closed as you relished on the feeling of his lips against your skin. 
“I love you, my Queen.”
That was the last thing you heard before darkness fully enveloped you. The smile from your lips disappeared as your hand fell limp in Jungkook’s grasp. He sobbed, pressing your hand against his cheek only to feel your skin already cooling down. His other hand caressed your cheek with delicacy, his lips trembled and his tears couldn’t stop from leaving his waterline. 
A pain in his chest settled forever. Dying would have been more merciful than living like this. Jungkook lived in an eternal winter. The coldness was taking everything from him. Freezing his heart, leaving his memories covered with frost. Everything was cold. Your hand, his heart, his life. Everything was cold. That was the only thing he could feel. Only the coldness of his reality was covered in a deep and thick layer of white snow; the colour of sorrow. The colour of nothing. 
All in an eternal winter of pain with no spring in sight. His hopes died with you, he had died with you. Only his heart was still beating. But death had claimed him as well, cursed him with the coldness of sorrow and a lost love for eternity. 
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The funeral was held three days later. Ministers and people from the village were all mourning their Queen. They all dressed in white robes, standing in the large palace gardens as they knelt on the cold ground. 
The king walked in the middle of the golden path with Ha-joon by his side. His small hand in his own as the both of them walked toward where your casket was. Some of the people were crying, others were praying as they all shared the king’s sorrow. 
Hoseok, Yoongi, Jungkook and your father were guarding your casket, waiting for your husband to arrive and complete the ceremony. Their hearts were heavy, the skies were grey as little snowflakes fell down from the thick clouds. 
Ha-joon ran to where Hoseok stood, burning his face in his robes as he began to cry silently. Jimin’s heart clenched at the sight of his son mourning the death of his mother. He placed a red rose in between your hands, accommodating your red bracelet on your wrist. He had seen you wear it everyday so it should stay with you in your final resting place. He turned to look at the people, his face cold, missing your warmth next to him. He could no longer cry, his tears were gone only leaving a deep hole in his heart.
“Let’s give the Queen the goodbye she deserves.”
Jimin spoke to his people who all rose to their feet. Yoongi and Jungkook along with two more guards began carrying your casket made of crystal with golden details down the palace entrance. A tear rolled down Jungkook’s cheek when he spotted the bracelet he made for you still attached to your wrist. 
The king was walking in front of them while Hoseok walked with Ha-joon behind them. The slightly older man was crying silently while holding your son’s hand in his. 
“I miss mummy.”
Jungkook closed his eyes at the prince’s words. Hoseok sighed and picked the child up in his arms, hugging him to his chest while continuing to walk down the frozen path. 
“We all do, my prince. We all do.”
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That night, Jimin found solace in the darkness of his room. He sighed at the empty feeling of the place he once shared with you. Ha-joon was sleeping in his bedding, neither of them wanting to be alone after your passing. A lone tear left his eyes, rolling down his cheek slowly.
He looked to where Ha-joon was sleeping soundly and let out a deep sigh. Jimin knew facing this new reality was going to be tough for him as a husband who lost his wife and for Ha-joon who lost his mother while the kingdom lost their Queen. 
He felt his heart freeze with the remnants of your love. No other woman would ever be in your place while he lived. No other woman would ever sit next to him in the throne and Ha-joon won’t call another woman “mother”. He couldn’t betray you like that. He couldn’t discard his love for you that easily. 
Winter settled in his heart, frost covered his heart and memories. There were no more summer days and spring was never going to arrive in Jimin. For he was also cursed by the coldness of sorrow forever.
The moon rose high in the sky that night, being the only source of light for Jungkook as he left the palace grounds in silence. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. He was going to leave that place of golden memories for they were now shattered in fragments of ice. You were no longer there to warm his days in the palace. You were no longer there to smile at him from a distance. Your absence killed him. Froze him. 
His footsteps got covered by the snow falling from the skies, his silhouette was soon lost to the eye as he walked among the snow and the darkness of the night. 
I’ll find you, I promise.
His own words resonated in his mind. With each step he took, he felt how another layer of ice covered his heart. No other woman would ever enter his heart for he was sealing it with the chains of his sorrow. 
No-one ever saw Jungkook after that night. Some people said he went to a little village to live between his solitude and his poems. Others said he married a woman with great semblance to the late Queen. Others said he died, either by his own hand or by a heart disease. 
No-one exactly knew what happened to First Officer Jeon Jungkook after the Queen’s funeral. Not even Yoongi, who found his friend’s room empty the next morning. Everything was placed neatly and only a single sheet of paper laid on his wooden desk with a poem written on it. 
Yoongi folded the paper and put it in his pocket, feeling loneliness creep up into his heart at Jungkook’s leaving. Yet his friend’s heartache was stronger, he had to leave and Yoongi understood. He knew he’d never see Jungkook again so he could only wish him luck in whatever he may venture in next. His love poem was kept in his possession for all his life. Reading it from time to time and feeling Jungkook’s pain through the only thing he left behind, his words. His heart poured out on a sheet of paper. 
You have poisoned me with your love.
Like a drug.
An addiction only you can control.
And now you are gone, taking my life with your own.
I am dead in ever sense of the word,
yet my heart still beats inside me.
What kind of punishment is this?
I prefer a thousand times to die by your hand than to live a life without you by my side.
You exist now only in my memories.
My most precious treasure.
My love will be known through centuries;
because meeting you was my biggest pleasure.
Queen of mine,
wait for me in your next life.
Maybe you had left this world
but you still live in my heart.
Forever shall I remember you,
may this letter be a proof of my devotion to you.
Sultana of my mind.
Owner of my heart.
Lover of mine.
October/28/2023
~Masterpost
**I do NOT give my consent for this or any of my works to be posted or translated into any other platforms or languages. 
45 notes · View notes
karahalloway · 7 months
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(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 15 - Not Without Obligation
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Fandom: TRR
Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)
Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.
Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions
Chapter Summary: Harper gets a surprise visit from Christian... but are his intentions sincere?
Word Count: 2,800 (short for me, I know enjoy it while you can 😆)
Rating/Warnings: M (swearing, angst, possible ulterior motives)
Chapter theme song:
A/N: I know it's been more than a hot minute since I've updated this series! 😅 This is in part because I got sidetracked by Sleepless in New York also on my list to finish, I know, and then I took most of the summer off from writing. But also in part because I kinda got stuck on how to actually continue with this series... but, I now have a plan! *rubs hands together gleefully* and you ain't gonna like it, sorry, not sorry. So, with this long-awaited installment, I hope to be back in my usual groove and will be posting with some semblance of regularity again. Thanks so much for bearing with me!
A/N2: This is also my submission for @choicesseptemberchallenge2023 Day 25 Prompt - Secret, Surprise I’m only 2 days late
Chapter 15 - Not Without Obligation
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Making my way back to my room, I try to push down the conflicting emotions that are roiling inside of me.
On one hand, I get where Drake is coming from, and why he shut the door in my face. We are no longer alone in Applewood and even the faintest whiff of impropriety could implode the carefully strategised work that the royal PR team has put in to try and resuscitate my public image.
And me getting caught outside of the room of a guy who not only is not Christian, but who I have no justifiable reason for seeking out at the butt-crack of dawn in the first place, would definitely scupper the assertion that I'm not a two-timing hussy. Especially since I rushed out of my room earlier wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and panties.
Mitigating factors, they are not.
But while the rational part of my brain knows that Drake is only trying to look out for me, I can't help but feel a pang of dejection at the abruptness with which he — very literally — shut me out, even though he promised yesterday that he wouldn't do something like that to me again.
Because God knows that it had been hard enough to get him to open up the first time!
And even though I'm not expecting him to have completely reversed his habitudes overnight, I guess I'd been hoping that our conversation in the barn would've prompted some kind of step in the desired direction.
Because it's clear that the bruises on my neck unnerved him. The turmoil on his face had made that clear. As the marks are not just some haphazard side-effect of our frantic love-making. They are a very real and visible reminder of the tangible strength of his feelings — and the fact that he lost control of them.
And as much as I understand the knee-jerk cause of his reaction, the last thing I want — or need — right now is for Drake to distance himself from me because he's scared of hurting me again.
That, I could not cope with.
"Demoiselle," nods Allard as I arrive back at my room.
I flash him a distracted smile on auto-pilot. He saw and heard what happened. There is no point rehashing anything. Especially since this isn't something he or Schweitzer can help with.
The weight of my Guard's concerned gaze flick over me as I shuffle past, but they both remain silent, no doubt sensing that I'm not in the mood for conversation.
Shutting the door behind me, I close my eyes as I lean back against the solidness of the wood.
Why are things never simple 'round here?
I really wish Drake and I could've taken a moment to talk things through. Because today's Apple Harvest Festival is expected to see hundreds of people descend onto Applewood to not only celebrate this year's bountiful crop of Cordonian Rubies, but to also catch a glimpse of the new King and his future Queen.
And if I thought that cornering Drake at the apple pick had been hard, the chances of being able to do so today are going to be slim to none.
But the rest of the week doesn't offer any better options because tomorrow we're off to Italy, where we'll likely have even less opportunity for privacy given the high-profile and international nature of the coming engagements.
My eyes snap open. I have to talk to him now.
As much as Drake may be concerned about protecting what's left of my image, I'm not going to let him use the inconvenience of our circumstances as an excuse to hide behind his insecurities or erect walls between us. Because the hard truth is that there's never going to be a good time to talk unless we make time.
Which is exactly what I am going to do, possible scandal be damned. I cannot let a tenuous fear borne out of a possible public backlash hold me back. My relationship with Drake is worth infinitely more to me than whatever garbage the paps may decide to print because some aristo decided to tattle on me if I get caught sneaking back into his room.
Because, let's face it. Even if I do end up on the front pages tomorrow (for all the wrong reasons), the fact of the matter is that any photo, any situation — no matter how sordid or innocent — can be spun any which way.
I've learnt that the hard way. So, I may as well use it to my own advantage for once.
Pushing myself away from the door, I march into my walk-in closet with renewed determination. Pulling the t-shirt that I'd slept in over my head, I quickly throw on a bra, some jean shorts and a black tank top.
Slotting my bare feet into my well-worn Sketchers, I make my way over to the French doors that lead out onto balcony so I can try to figure out the best way to scamper over to Drake's room without killing myself, given that I stand a better chance of slipping under the aristo's nosy radar via the balcony than going back through the corridor.
Hopefully, I can—
Tap, tap tap.
I stop mid-stride at the sound of knocking coming from the other side of my door.
Turning around, I contemplate whether I should respond, or pretend that I hadn't heard.
I have precious little time if I want to catch Drake before he disappears on me to do... whatever it is that he does in the mornings before the start of a royal event.
So, if I want to make it to his room, I need to go now before he finishes getting dressed.
But, then again, there is only a very small number of people at court who'd come directly to my room to talk to me. Especially at this time in the morning.
So, it could be important. It could be about Tariq...
...it could be Drake.
The latch clicks open.
I glance anxiously back towards the balcony, trying to decide if I should—
"May I come in?"
I whirl around in surprise at the sound of the unexpected voice. "Christian!"
He pokes his head 'round the door. "I... I didn't catch you in a state of undress, did I?"
"No! No... I was already dressed," I admit, trying to be as casual as possible as I quickly brush my hair over my shoulders in a haphazard attempt to try and cover up the bruises, given that I hadn't thought to slather any cover-up over myself yet.
Christian definitely doesn’t need to be asking questions about those!
"Ah, good!" he responds, stepping fully into the room and closing the door behind him. "You're an early riser, like myself."
"You can thank the Beaumonts," I mutter under my breath, glancing guiltily back toward the balcony.
So much for stealing a much-needed moment with Drake...
"I apologise for the intrusion," Christian continues, crossing the space between us, "especially at such an early hour. But I was hoping to catch you alone before the start of the Apple Harvest Festival."
One word catches my attention. "A-Alone...?"
He comes to a stop in front of me. "Very much so."
Anxiety flares in the pit of my stomach as Drake's words from yesterday swirl through my mind.
...he's trying to win you back.
And it suddenly hits me that I haven't been alone — truly alone — with Christian since the day of the Jamboree. When he took me into the hedge maze and offered me a duchy.
My mind starts to whirl.
Had that been the start of this... crusade? The fact that I turned him down? Does he still think he can change my mind? Is he simply incapable of accepting 'no' as an answer?
I force my gaze up to meet his.
His emerald green eyes behold me calmly, with maybe a hint of excitement. But I cannot read his intention.
"Wh-why?" I finally blurt out.
A smile spreads across his face. "To bestow upon you your letters patent, of course!"
I gape at him. "My letters of what?"
He chuckles good-naturedly at my evident confusion. "Letters patent. Itis a type of royal decree that formally confers some manner of privilege onto the names designee — an office of state, a coat of arms, a commercial monopoly... or, in this case, your new title as Duchess of Valtoria."
With a flourish, he pulls out a small, leather-bound box that he's been hiding behind his back.
I stare at it mutely.
"It won't bite, I promise," he assures me wryly.
Reaching up with a tepid smile, I accept the box, which is a lot heavier than it looks.
Opening it up, I find a medieval-looking document nestled in the lid, complete with densely-packed Chancery script and and a historiated initial C embossed with the stylised image of the Cordonian royal crest.
Peering at the text — which I can only assume is an archaic form of French — I can just about make out the odd word, like my name, Christian's name, and Valtoria. But the rest remains completely incomprehensible.
Presumably some grand declarations about the bestowal...
In the bottom part of the box rests a cream-coloured envelope also bearing the Cordonian royal crest, along with my name, though this time written in delicate cursive lettering.
"What's this?" I ask Christian, lifting the letter up.
"Your papers of naturalisation," he informs me. "Along with your new passport and ID card."
I glance up at him in surprise. "I am now a Cordonian citizen?"
"It would not have been possible to issue the letters patent otherwise," he says. "Even a king must abide by the diktats of the law."
"I... don't need to sign anything?"
"The US Consulate was very accommodating, given the unique nature of the circumstances."
My stomach twists unexpectedly. "Oh..."
Dual citizenship is a good thing, right?
Returning my attention to the box, I see that the envelope has been concealing a large, intricate-looking seal bearing what appears to be the stylised outline of a rampant phoenix, next to which sits a signet ring with the same image.
"Does it meet expectations?" asks Christian.
"I'm not sure I know what I'd been expecting..." I admit, running a finger over the lines of the mythical bird, marvelling at the level of detail that's been put into creating such a realistic rendering, complete with individual licks of flame spouting from the tail feathers.
"Any egregious spelling errors?"
"Not that I can see," I admit, glancing up at him. "But—"
"Excellent!" he declares, reaching over the lid of the box to deftly pluck the signet ring out from its nest of blue silk.
Before I have a chance to react, he's clasped my hand in his to poise the heavy circlet of gold at the tip of my ring finger.
"Wait!" I gasp in the face of the unexpectedly intimate turn of events. "What are you—?"
"It would be remiss of me if I did not verify the correctness of the sizing," he advises, meeting my panicked gaze calmly.
"You don't need t—"
"It would be my pleasure," he insists, slipping the ring onto the digit before I can protest further.
As he withdraws his hand, my eyes fall onto the spot where the cool metal's unfamiliar weight now encircles the base of my finger.
"Perfect," Christian declares with a satisfied smile, brushing his thumb over the phoenix insignia.
I stare at the band with an uneasily mix of feelings swirling in my chest. "Christian, I—"
"Let's celebrate, shall we?" he announces, pulling back to click his fingers with a decisive snap.
On cue, the door behind Christian swings open to admit a veritable procession of servants bearing ice buckets, champagne, crystal flutes and tiny servings of finger food.
"Wait..." I stammer in the face of organised onslaught. "They were waiting outside this whole time?"
"I may have take a page out of your party planning book," he admits with a grin while the industrious staff set about transforming my bedroom into a first-class tea room. "Seeing the success you had with Drake on his birthday, I thought I would try my hand at surprising you on this important day."
"And that's great, but I never agreed—"
"Didn't you?" Christian asks with a level look as he nabs a miniature scone from the tray of a passing server.
I shake my head. "No, I—"
"Because I specifically recall you giving your unambiguous consent at yesterday's apple pick to proceed with finalising your new status," he states, taking a bite out of the pastry.
I open my mouth, but promptly shut it as the conversation from the orchard floats back into my consciousness.
"...having the paperwork squared away before our departure would grant significant boon for your image."
"Oh. Okay..."
"Oh, fuck..." I mutter as the cold hand of hindsight clamps down on the nape of my neck.
Christian had obviously mischaracterised my somewhat dazed reaction as some kind of explicit affirmation.
And since Drake's appearance yesterday had interrupted the conversation at that key moment, I never had a chance to correct the misunderstanding.
But I need to. Because once again, Christian has taken matters into his own hands and acted without my my prior agreement or approval t. Just like he had done when he decided to send me away during the Coronation Ball, only to then bring me back to court as his mistress, not to mention spring an actual duchy on me without any warning.
And while his heart's probably been in the right place each and every time, I'm not sure that I can cope with any more bolts from the blue.
Especially when they so drastically upend my life.
Heaving a breath, I look back up at the King of Cordonia again. "Look, Christian, I really appreciate all of this, but I think there's been a major—"
The loud bang! of the champagne bottle shooting its cork across the room makes me jump.
Turning around, I can see that the gold-coloured liquid is already in the process of being dispensed into a pair of waiting crystal flutes.
"I hope you like this Moët & Chandon Imperial Vintage 1946 that I had picked out," Christian murmurs, brushing a hand over the small of my back. "It is an exceptional cuvée with notes of citrus, apple and pear — an apt combination, I thought, given the occasion."
"Because of the pear trees in Valtoria..." I surmise heavily, watching a footman bring over a pair of freshly-filled champagne flutes with a foreboding note of finality.
"Exactly," confirms Christian, grabbing a glass from the tray. "A beautifully complimentary pairing. One that hope we can both enjoy for many years to come."
"Yes, but—"
"Let's toast, shall we?" prompts Christian, cutting me off yet again as the footman proffers me the other serving of expensive bubbly.
I stare at it like a poison pill.
This is what Drake had warned me about, isn't it? That Christian would seek to manoeuvre me into a corner like a chess piece... By giving with one hand, only to take with the other when the time came for the chips to fall due. Because what better way to create an unimpeachable sense of obligation than by making me into a duchess? A literal vassal to the Crown? Required to do the King's bidding, no matter the cost?
And if that really is his aim, then he has certainly been succeeding.
But at the same time, I am not sure I can trust my assessment. Christian has given no indication, one way or another, as to where his goals lay. And even if the misunderstanding had been genuine, to turn him down now would not only be inexplicably rude, but maybe also dangerous?
Would I be jeopardising Christian's support in the hunt for Tariq and my quest to set the record straight if I offend him by throwing all his heartfelt effort back in his face? Especially when I don't know for certain what Christian's motives are?
Because what if Drake is wrong? What if there is no hidden agenda and I'm just massively overthinking this entire thing because I've been burned once already and now everyone looks suspect... Even — and especially — when I'm being offered help?
"Harper?" queries Christian. "Everything alright?"
I shake myself out of my stupor and grab the crystal flute. "I'm fine. Just... Trying to come to grips with it all."
"There will be plenty of time for that," he assures me with a grin, raising his glass. "To the new Duchess of Valtoria!"
I clink the delicate crystal in my hand against his with a leaden feeling in my stomach.
There's no going back now...
For better or for worse, I have just become an aristo.
The story continues in Chapter 16 - Snakes in the Garden
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7grandmel · 1 month
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Todays rip: 21/03/2024
Poké Village
Season 5 Featured on: SiIvaGunner's Highest Quality Rips: Volume C
Ripped by XxFemBu55yL0V3RxX
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I've yapped on and on before on here about what the true core of SiIvaGunner is, be it comedy, emotion, shitposting, community, lore, what have you. There obviously isn't one true answer to that question: it's all subjective, not just based on your own reading of the channel, but your own experiences with it. As an aspiring writer, I love digging deep into its narrative and theming, the stuff found in Nice, Slick, Blackness and NIGHTMARESCAPE 〜Unrestrained HyperCam 2〜 (Final Boss Phase 2) - but other people are far more invested in the act of ripping itself, the people who go the mile beyond that even I do and keep up with all the various fan channels, or even make rips themselves. But no matter your angle, there's one thing that binds everything together, the thing that Poké Village and so many other rips represent. To share what you love, and love what others share.
I'm sure that at this point, Violet Snow Memories is one of my most-linked posts on this blog, but that's exactly because it represents that theme so well. Kyle Hyde's duology of DS Adventure games aren't exactly worldwide phenomenons, yet there are still people out there - people like Uncle Fill - who wish to share their love for the games in any way they can. And in turn, I myself have enjoyed hundreds of rips representing games and franchises I've never really engaged with much, franchises like Touhou with Imperial Touwer or Sable with Sable's Stickerbush. But it doesn't really matter whether or not I'M a fan of these series, when its ever-so-evident just how much the people making these rips love them, the love you can see in the rips themselves. And hell, I've said it before and I'll say it again: It was Chaze the Chat's love for Maroon 5 as a band, its early history and distinct style highlighted in the rips on SiIvaGunner, rips like As Miku Collides, that got ME invested in the band in return. Each ripper on SiIvaGunner, each contributor and fan submitter, wishes to share a piece of themselves with SiIva's audience, and it's truly heartwarming to see how many of us are able to look beyond the boundaries of fandom to appreciate real quality.
Which, then, brings us back to Poké Village - a rip featuring the Pokke Village theme from the Monster Hunter series. First appearing when the series was still primarily on the PlayStation Portable, and only reappearing on the core-fan installment Monster Hunter Generations. The franchise is far from niche, the song far from obscure - but it still isn't exactly a theme known to those *outside* of the Monster Hunter sphere, in the way that we for instance all know the tune of Green Hill Zone without having played a Sonic game. SiIvaGunner isn't exactly a gathering spot for the Monster Hunter community (the games themselves have a pitiful amount of rips on the channel), but by just Poké Village alone, you may be fooled into thinking otherwise.
What XxFemBu55yL0V3RxX's created here is a beautiful 7-minute arrangement of the aforementioned Pokke Village theme, initially led by the very same nostalgic Game Boy hum that leads much of the Johto Pokémon games' soundtracks. The extensiveness of the arrangement alone speaks volumes - it reminds me of rips like Jesus of the Underground right off the bat - but its hardly where the rip stops to impress. For one, I think the choice in game to use for this "bait-and-switch" arrangement is incredibly smart and quite deliberate. As an outsider, I need not have played a Monster Hunter game to get a sense for what Pokke Village is like, due purely to my associations with Ecruteak City and how those feelings are leveraged in the rip. I have no nostalgia nor attachment to any Monster Hunter game, yet the emotion present in just the rip's first half alone, the way the theme swells and settles, it conveys the rural village atmosphere pitch-perfectly. And all of it is, of course, elevated by the rip's unexpected twist - the remarkably seamless switch from the Pokémon GSC sound, to something far closer to a ground-up arrangement.
At first, I drew the conclusion that it was directly based on the Ecruteak City or Cianwood City theme of Pokémon HeartGold/SoulSilver, the 2009 remakes of the Johto Pokémon games for Nintendo DS. And while the arrangement feels incredibly similar to the sound of the DS, from the samples used to their quality, I can't directly connect the instruments used to either of the two city themes (which share a melody but with differing arranges). Yet the vibe is what truly matters, XxFemBu55yL0V3RxX is able to harness the warmth and comfort of those familiar DS-era samples to further bring home the sheer vibe of the Pokke Village theme that elevates the rip beyond its starting point, beyond its initial concept. I love pleasant surprise escalations like this, like I covered back in Plantasia 2, and much like that rip itself - I love how Poké Village is using it purely to further push a message of affection for a piece of media XxFemBu55yL0V3RxX seemingly holds very close to him.
Melody swaps between themes with such similar atmosphere are always some of the most surefire hits on SiIva, I'm reminded of just how quickly Aquadial enchanted me to name just one. And Poké Village certainly fits that mold, but I'm enamored by just how far XxFemBu55yL0V3RxX went to celebrate this theme that many of us are likely still rather unfamiliar with, to champion a franchise otherwise so underrepresented on SiIvaGunner with a seven-minute tribute covering two entirely different styles of arrangement. And it makes me so happy that it all worked, that the rip was able to hit the way it does without me having ever played a Monster Hunter game. Or in other words, that I was able to love the piece of himself that he shared in this rip.
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kotias · 9 months
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Good Omens season 2 is a coming out fable.
Especially when you consider that all the relationships we see are queer:
- Aziraphale and Crowley
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- Maggie and Nina
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- Gabriel and Beelzebub
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- the two punks in the graveyard with the phone only having Twitter and Grindr
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- the shopkeeper and his spouse
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Both Crowley and Aziraphale got recently liberated from Hell and Heaven respectively, from any responsibility towards them, and even from hiding their relationship, because both sides know by now, and tried (and failed) to punish them for it.
We have the two "young adults" who just left their toxic families and can finally taste the freedom of being themselves and together. One immediately embraces it, and goes fullblown DRAMATIC GAY about it (Crowley of course), while the other is still sheltered and shy and has had the family's sayings drilled so deeply in him that even considering whatever is happening would feel an impossible step for him (Aziraphale)
And then... two other gays in a similar situation (angel x demon) appear (Gabriel and Beelzebub, making a representation for our angel of "oh my goodness, that was an option???"
But, because it's such new information, that he has literally no time to take in because The Metatron pops in right after to shut that down real quick, he can't give his own angry little snake husband what he WISHES he could give him.
I’m not good on analysing queer representation in media, but this really feels like a love story to the community and a representation of their struggles to truly find themselves.
In this season, while Gabriel and Beelzebub were the fullblown representation that our little gay immortal beings needed, Maggie and Nina are the “experienced” people of the community, helping the little sheltered boys out of their shells, practically giving Crowley an instruction manual that he tries really hard to follow.
But it doesn’t work... does it?
Because, one of the issues that one can face is: family clawing their way back into your brain, and destroying everything you’ve worked on to heal from their influence.
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The Metatron is walzing into Aziraphale’s life, offering a warm coffee and a fawning voice, while at the same time staring daggers at Crowley who is just sprawling in his favourite chair, and bringing the angel outside for The Talk.
This feels like a family member who “doesn’t understand why you’ve changed so much my dear, it must be the influence of this darn friend of yours”, but instead of saying that... he goes in more slyly, offering Aziraphale something that cannot be refused: an esteemed place in a “family” who he never truly felt a part of. But Metatron knows, he knows very well that Crowley would never accept going back to Heaven. He knows that he’s given Aziraphale too much hope to abandon that dream of being accepted by his “family”.
This series is so good, I’m being so emotional right now.
So thank you @neil-gaiman​
Given what I wrote here, I am therefore expecting Aziraphale to wear that FABULOUS coat that Gabriel found in his closet (HUMHUM YES YES GABRIEL FINDING CLOSETED GAY CLOTHES) in season 3, when he is ready for the coming out dance of the millenium.
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Crowley deserves at least that as an apology (not that he needs to forgive anything to Aziraphale, the second he sees him he’ll have forgiven everything, but he still wants that dance in a dramatic coat).
And I also expect their next kiss to literally rewrite the world after it was brought to destruction by the Second Coming.
Because if their joint “tiniest miracle we can do, so that even Heaven can’t pick up on it, we’re so stealthy” ended up conjuring a power that could raise 25 people back from the dead, I cannot be told that their real kiss, and their putting their all in a joint miracle, wouldn’t reboot the universe.
And I think that’s exactly why Metatron is trying to separate them: as angels from creation (since demons are former angels), they weren’t supposed to love one another, and angelic love could be incredibly dangerous to the “Ineffable Plan”, if it indeed has the ability to rewrite everything.
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