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#IT IS ANGER AND IT IS FEAR AND IT IS CONSUMPTION AND IT IS DESIRES MOST PRIMITIVE AND IT'S SO INFLUENCED BY MEMORY

ahundredtimesover · 1 year

Text

Belong (01) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.2k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: Boston by Augustana; Shelter by Luca Fogale || Playlist 🎶

A/N: Posting this today to celebrate People pt.2 and D-Day! Here’s a little piece I’ve had for a while. It felt fitting to write something about dreams and finding your purpose through Yoongi and at a time when I’m going through something similar. There’s nothing like his wisdom and his warmth so I hope this could mean something to you somehow. 💕 Please enjoy! And 🫡 to NBA Ambassador Suga! Now that’s his 🏀 dream in another form.

Present Day

There’s always something magical whenever you watch yourself on screen.

It’s not due to some narcissistic reason or an insatiable desire for the spotlight; it’s not even because you think you’re really talented. Sure, you like the attention and just like anyone who’s spent years of their lives perfecting their craft, you want to be pretty great at it, but all those thoughts become suspended whenever it’s your scene.

During these instances, it’s only about your character and her emotions, and that’s what you think is remarkable about it - watching yourself is just like being there, in that moment, on that set, feeling it all.

Most actors would say they love acting because it gives them a variety of roles and personalities to play. You like that bit, too, but it’s the character’s emotions that you commit yourself to the most; it’s being able to immerse yourself in the feelings of joy and anger, of contempt and fear, of envy and admiration, of guilt and love. You like the finiteness of it, that with acting comes the feeling, and you know at some point, it’s going to end.

Once the scene is over, so is the emotion; you’re able to let go of it right away with one breath. You’re good at that, you think - holding onto something for as long as it’s yours, and then letting it go when it no longer is.

The collective gasp of the people around you breaks your bubble only a little; you release a breath yourself as the last scene unfolds. And with the final shot and the succeeding transition to the end credits, you let go of the sadness.

“I can’t believe that only took one shot,” your best friend, Taehyung, says in awe. “I would’ve been crying already knowing how it ends.”

“Jin and I challenged each other,” you proudly say. “We said we’d do our absolute best for that first try and the director thought it was that good. Seriously, not crying until that last second was so hard; I didn’t think I could do it.”

The Kim Seokjin, your co-actor and good friend, looks at you from the other side of the couch with that soft and proud look that you only ever get from him once a project is over. You return the sentiment, knowing that you wouldn’t have survived your first lead role in a drama series if he wasn’t acting alongside you.

He’d been your senior at university where you both took your major in acting. He was already modeling then and snagged a major role in a movie right after graduation; he became a household name after that.

You watched from the sidelines as he achieved his dreams while you took the occasional 30-second roles given to the students, but he didn’t forget you. He called regularly to know how you were doing, gave tips when you asked, and informed you of upcoming auditions.

It was the type of friendship that challenged you, given that you both wanted to one day star in a series or movie together, a culmination of all the long hours of rehearsals and line-reading and classes that you both did. He had already made a name for himself; you wanted to be good enough to have yours be opposite his.

It would take a few years, but after a supporting role in a romcom movie that saw people wanting more of you, you and Jin finally got cast in a series about a mortal woman falling in love with a celestial being, which, at the beginning, reflected your respective statuses in the industry. You expected the show to do well - everything that Kim Seokjin touches turns to gold, as the saying goes - but you didn’t expect for the public to love you both as a pair as much as they do, given that they want you to star in another show right away.

“I cried as I turned around,” Jin says of the scene where he had to go back to his world and leave you behind. “That was heavy and even I’m impressed we did it in one shot.”

“Well, the sadness and grief would have dwindled by the third or fourth time,” you chuckle. “I’m not good enough yet to maintain all the emotions after so many takes.”

“Not that you aren’t good enough,” Jin counters. “You just haven’t been in the industry that long yet. That kind of experience makes a difference. I’d say I wouldn’t have been able to sustain the same emotion for long, too. It was a difficult one. I mean, what goodbye scene isn’t?”

It’s a rhetorical question, of course, but much of why it was difficult for you to keep the emotions in was because it was your first goodbye scene. You have a feeling that the succeeding ones wouldn’t be any easier, though. You’d like to think you’re okay with goodbyes and that says a lot, but then again, you don’t know anyone who’s actually good at it.

Or maybe you do. But you’d rather not think about it.

It’s silent for a few more seconds. You suppose that the rest of your co-actors who are here with you are still processing the end of a series that’s been their source of comfort for the past few months, too. It had been your weekly routine to watch the episode together in Jin’s house, not wanting to let go of each other just yet after filming wrapped up a few weeks ago.

“Well, that was amazing, wasn’t it?” He finally speaks up. “It was a good run and thank god that ___ insisted on these watch parties. Or else I’d be crying by myself in my room after the finale,” he laughs. “This better not be the last time we see each other.”

“Because it isn’t,” you reply. “We still have that cast and crew dinner and a couple more filming stuff for promo. That’s easily another 3 more weeks of being together. Which is really 3 weeks too short.”

“So… does anyone want to go on a trip after that?” Hyun-seung, one of the actors, excitedly suggests. “It’d be a good way to unwind and use up what we’ll earn.”

You laugh along with everyone but you’re the only one who passes up on it.

“I can’t,” you sigh. “I have a trip to Daegu at the end of the month and I can’t move it.”

Disappointed sighs echo throughout the living room, and you insist that they should continue with the trip without you. Most of them don’t want to, but you eye Jin so that he would make the call to push through with it even if you won’t be around, so he does. It’s rare to find such good company with other actors, and you truly want them to maintain the friendships they built here way beyond the series.

Your friends make general plans as you listen in, wishing you could be there instead of home, which is where you’ll be for the next 2 months as you promised your family. Or more like, as they guiltripped you into doing.

You haven’t been home in years and for good reason. After your parents separated and you were the lone child who didn’t harbor anger towards your mother who wanted to pursue her dreams elsewhere, you promised yourself you’d leave that place, too.

Visits during summer had been fine. But after the most painful goodbye you ever made, you’d stopped going back altogether, reasoning that your up and coming career required all your time. You doubt that your family knew the truth, and despite their remarks of you following in the footsteps of your mother, those weren’t enough for you to open up about something so heartbreaking, knowing it hit too close to home. Their bitterness wasn’t a reason for you to keep going back either.

“Daegu, really?” Jin asks after everyone else has left, save for Taehyung and Jimin, your personal assistant whose glassy eyes say he’s not yet over the season finale. “You haven’t been home in 6 years.”

“Four, actually,” you correct him. “I had a filming there sometime ago.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t actually go home,” he clarifies. “You went to the shoot then back to your hotel. I remember that; I kept asking Tae how you were doing.”

“I was fine,” you shrug. “How was I supposed to be? I was good, just couldn’t wait to get back here. I had a boyfriend, remember?”

“Andrew was a fling, not a boyfriend,” Jin rolls his eyes, and you confirm that the model is his least favorite of your exes. “And if I remember correctly, you broke it off days later.”

“Well, it stops being good when it stops being fun,” Taehyung says, mocking your usual statement whenever your friends ask why you broke things off with your partners. “She shut down when she came back. I guess going home does that to her.”

“You know how places just naturally comfort you? Daegu isn’t that place,” you try to explain. “I had to get it off my system for the one week I was there and Andrew acted out. I just didn’t want the drama.”

Everyone nods, knowing it’s how you usually are. You always viewed relationships as a complement to your job. Being an actor is tough work with its own complications and you definitely don’t want it from your partner. It was always easy for you to fall into that honeymoon hole with someone, but you always walked away from it just as quick once the rainbows and butterflies had subsided. Whether it’s jealousy over your leading men or not having enough time, or just wanting to be by yourself to regroup, your exes always found a reason to argue. And you were always good at walking away when you needed to.

It was like that with every person. Except one. Your friends don’t know if he’s the reason why, or if he’s the exception.

“So what made you decide to go home? And for how long?” Jin queries, feeling a little worried because of what he knows is out there for you. He’s always been a little protective like that.

“About 2 months?” You respond, to the surprise of the older man. “My dad wants me to celebrate his wedding anniversary with them. And spend time with my sisters’ kids and my grandparents and shit.”

“And spend time with my parents,” Taehyung adds, knowing it’s probably the only thing you’re excited about, given how much they adore you and vice versa. “They can’t wait to see you.”

“Same here,” you finally smile. “We’re definitely seeing them first.”

“Anyone else you’re going to see there?” Jin asks some more.

“You can say his name, you know?” You nudge your friend’s knee. “I know he’s who you mean.”

“Well then. Are you going to see Yoongi?”

“I don’t plan on seeing him but I probably will. It’s a big city but it’s a small town. Plus, I’m with Daegu’s Prince right here,” you say, pointing to your best friend who’s made a name for himself as a ballad singer. “Tae will be dragging me around so I won’t be surprised if I encounter Yoongi somehow, somewhere.”

“And what happens when you see him?” Jimin now asks, wanting to know if he’d need to drive to you in case you decide to come home early.

“Then I see him. We’re… fine,” you state, earning you an eye roll from each man, so you clarify. “I mean, I’m perfectly fine living my dream in Seoul. And he’s a college basketball coach in Daegu, which is the closest to his dream he could get, and I heard his team’s doing really well. It’s been 6 years. He let me go. And I’ve moved on. Who knows how it’s gonna be like? But I’m civil with each one of my exes and it won’t be any different with him.”

“He’s different, though,” Jimin points out. “You actually loved him; you can’t say the same for all your exes. And you can’t argue that,” he adds, seeing your shaking head and disagreeing face. “Drunk and hungover you told me all that more than once and I trust that version of you over the sober one when it comes to your love life.”

“Okay, Mr. Know-It-All,” you frown at him. “I wasn’t going to deny that but it was the naive, impulsive, hopeless romantic version of me who loved him. That’s not me anymore. I’ve grown up. I know what I want from my partner, and Yoongi is just the small town boy who’ll always think that his broken dreams will keep him from loving me the way I deserve. And maybe he’s right.”

It’s quiet for a while, as your friends take in your words since you rarely ever talk about the man unless you’re in an inebriated state or recovering from it. But it’s the first time that the possibility of seeing him looms over you, knowing that within those 2 months, you’re bound to run into him somehow.

Now it’s too quiet, and you realize that none of you know what to say since you’re all sober. Truth be told, you don’t remember anything that Jimin’s ever told you during those times that you opened up, and Jin never really said much, knowing how hard that breakup hit you. And Taehyung, well… the man was there before, during, and after it all, yet he never really said much, always choosing to let the silence engulf both of you.

“Look, I’m touched you all seem to be worried,” you finally speak up. “But I’m going to be fine. I found a house I’m renting that’s nice and private. I’m actually excited to eat at my favorite restaurants and visit places I’ve missed. I can’t do anything about my family but at least Tae will be with me the whole time and save me from their madness if he needs to. And Yoongi, well… he’s a closed chapter in my book. There’s no reason to revisit that. Hi, goodbye - that’ll be it, just like before.”

You sigh to yourself, hoping that your friends would take your word for it, though you don’t really blame them if they don’t. They’ve seen you barely bat an eye after calling it quits with your exes but they’ve heard of how broken you were because of that breakup; seeing Yoongi again might just bring up old memories that you might not be ready for. And they won’t all be there to lift you up like they’d want to.

“Okay then, if you say so,” Jin finally smiles. “But if something comes up… you know I can always drive there and bring you back here.”

“And add to the already existing rumors about us being a thing?” You laugh, referring to all the social media fodder about your chemistry that’s too good, it might be real.

“So? Then we let it,” he shrugs.

“Does the Kim Seokjin not care about dating rumors?” You gasp. “You always complained about it. Don’t tell me you like me.”

Jin sits next to you and cups your face in his hands. “I… love you. The way a dear friend who dreamed with you and who gets to live that out with you does. We all love you. We’d do anything for you. You know that, right?”

“I do,” you say, humming once he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, just like all the times he’d done before - when you graduated university, when you didn’t get callbacks, and when you landed your first major role. “Thank you.”

You decide to head out after a long evening. Jimin lists your activities for the next day before he’s dropped off at his apartment. Taehyung lets you listen to his new single for his upcoming album, and you get emotional over his soulful sound and the fact that he gets to live out his dream with you, too.

He walks you to your front door and hugs you tightly, just like all the times he’d done before - when you cried about your family, when Yoongi broke up with you, and when you found out he was dating someone new.

“I love you, okay?” Your best friend whispers.

He says it in that soft, comforting voice of his. The one that always told you that things were gonna be fine, as if love solves all things, and at one point, you believed it did.

Your hometown of Daegu looks very different from the last time you were really here. It changes a lot. And it changes pretty quickly.

But some things about it stay the same - family-run restaurants, streets lined with little shops passed down from generations, the parks and the temples, the playground in your old neighborhood with the basketball court that you know all too well.

They make the place home, Mrs. Kim says. That doesn’t change no matter how far or how long you’ve been away.

You want to disagree. This place was never home. It felt like bits of it during the times you used to watch ballet performances at the Opera House with your mom or when your dad used to grill makchang on Friday nights.

But when she decided to leave and then he remarried, you had just memories of home left. Your sisters’ resentment over your happiness for your mother as she achieved her dreams took all that was remaining, and coming here reminds you more than what you lost; it reminds you of what you can never have - that space to dream, the place of safety, the love that would endure time and distance.

You enjoy the best short ribs dish over Mr. Kim’s recordings of his saxophone performances. Mrs. Kim dotes on you like her own daughter, and Taehyung announces all the things you’ll be doing now that you’re both back home, taking your respective breaks that you deserve, and spending the money that you worked hard for.

You eventually leave for some rest. The house you’re staying at is far from the buzz of the city. It’s private and secure, a little too spacious for one, and boasts of the views of the mountains. Jimin had found it, knowing you’d need the peace and quiet amidst all that would be taking place during your short time here.

Taehyung will be staying over at his parents’ place, but they insist that it’s open for you to visit anytime you want. You think you need the time for yourself, though. Your job often requires you to be around people, and you’re thankful for the choice you have now to be away from them. For some time, at least.

[From: Manager Jung] Are you settled? I’ve got a script for you to go through. Sending it now

Your agent-slash-manager’s message disrupts your moment of tranquility as you sit out at the garden, watching the sun set. You’d arrived from Seoul in time for lunch and spent the rest of the afternoon at Taehyung’s parents’ house before heading to yours.

[To: Manager Jung] Yeah, all good. But give me a week until I read the script. Don’t want to think much about work yet

[From: Manager Jung] Fine. Just don’t take too long

You sigh, knowing that though you promised Jin and Jimin that you won’t be thinking about work while you’re here - you need a break from it all, they told you - your manager won’t really let you. And much as you want to complain about him pushing you real hard, you’re thankful that Jung Hoseok always does.

He was the one who saw your talent and insisted you’ve got a bright future after one casting call that you were almost late for. He was strategic in which roles to pitch you for as a rookie actor, and which ones would get you ahead of the game, no matter how challenging it was. During the times you wondered if you were meant for this industry, he always assured you that you were. There was always going to be a bigger break after the last, he believed, and he promised you he’d go searching for that role until you got the biggest break of your career.

And every time you think he’ll cross the line of pressuring you too much, he says something sweet, brotherly, friendly.

[From: Manager Jung] But take care of yourself there, ok? Don’t let them talk down on you. Don’t let them crush your dreams

You’d cry if his words came with a hug.

[From: Manager Jung] And guard your heart. Don’t let him hurt you again

You pretend he means your father; he let your sisters’ resentment of you go on after all, and his inaction made you feel unloved in your own home.

You don’t want to think that Hoseok means someone else because it would mean that for all the times you questioned if everything you gave up to chase your dream was worth it, then he knew it was because of the man who broke your heart 6 years ago. You don’t want to think that all these years, Hoseok knew that your buzz-worthy dating life, whose aftermath he always had to manage, was just your futile attempt at getting over the first and only man you ever loved.

Being in any sports facility unsettles you. You always claim that the buzz of sporting events just isn’t your cup of tea - you prefer the noise of a film or television set, or of a theater right before the movie starts. It wasn’t always like that, of course. You used to enjoy the screams and heckles of sports fans; you used to be one of them.

But you found out the hard way that losing someone means you lose the parts of you that you’d adopted because of them, that you fall out of love with the things you used to love because of them.

Basketball is one of those things. It’s why Taehyung used to not invite you whenever there were Thunders games at Jamsil despite the free tickets always available for you; he knew you’d say no and he hates rejection.

But Mr. Song is a man you can’t say no to. Not only is he the city’s mayor, he’s also a good friend of your father’s, which is how the chief official got wind of your return.

Your trip isn’t meant to be publicized. Actors take breaks and visit their hometowns regularly without attracting the media, and oftentimes, that’s thanks to the local government, who employs their political will and own security to ensure that celebrities aren’t disturbed while they’re on vacation or just visiting family. It’s good for them, of course, but it also sometimes comes with small favors, like a private dinner with some of their close friends and some photos or autographs. You don’t really mind, especially since the same is extended to Taehyung, hence why the lunch earlier at the mayor’s residence wasn’t all that bad. It was only slightly awkward with your father because you chose to meet up with Taehyung’s family first before yours, but your dad didn’t dwell on it.

Other than privacy, one other thing you get are free courtside Korean Basketball League tickets. The Pegasus just recently moved to Daegu from Incheon and there’d been a lot of promotion to get the city to give their full support to their new hometown team. Mr. Song thinks that photos of you and Taehyung attending the game will be the publicity that the team needs, and while your best friend genuinely agrees to the arrangement, you only do so half-heartedly. You’ll at least see your friends who are playing for the other team, but even the thought of Jungkook and Namjoon being back home and the party they’ll throw after is making you even more unsettled.

“Hmm, number 16 was pretty cute,” you whisper to Taehyung as you head out of the locker room after some photos with the home team. “I wonder if he’ll be at the party tonight.”

“No, he won’t,” your best friend responds.

“Why not? Because he’s from the other team? I’m sure that Jungkook won’t mind, right? I mean, yeah it’s his house but—”

“Tonight is for college friends only.”

“We didn’t even go to their university,” you point out, given that you and Taehyung studied in Seoul and had met there, instantly clicking after finding out you both hailed from the same city. “Why are we going?”

“We are honorary members,” he replies. “I went to high school with them and you…” he trails, trying to figure out how to phrase how you became an honorary member of their group of friends without bringing him up.

“Are the ex of one of their friends,” you finish for him. “You can say it, you know?”

“I don’t know, can I?” He arches a brow.

“Yes. I don’t deny the fact that Yoongi and I dated.”

“You just deny how much it affected you.”

“You mistake my amazing ability of moving on for denial,” you groan. “But oh shit. Wait. Does this mean that he’ll be there at the party?”

Taehyung huffs as he settles in his seat and looks at your worried eyes. “For someone who doesn’t seem to be in denial, you sure look a bit anxious that he might be there tonight. Didn’t you say you can be civil with your exes?”

“Yeah, I can,” you reply defensively. “I don’t know about him. But then again, he moved on first, so I doubt seeing me would affect him much.”

Your best friend lets out a breath, not wanting to argue. He’s learned long ago that when it comes to Yoongi, you’re dead set on many things - like the narrative that he moved on first, that he was so much happier without you, that dreams were always more important for him, whether it was yours or his. Taehyung tried to help you process that whole experience, especially the aftermath, as you went on dating one man after another after you found out about Yoongi dating some local musician.

But you always had a default answer, that you’ve always been that way - quick to fall in love and quick to fall out of it, and Yoongi was no exception. You met, fell in love, and while you technically didn’t fall out of love, the breakup left you no choice but to do just that; he was the one who insisted that you leave, after all, and you’d been the one too heartbroken that he didn’t love you enough to make you stay.

“Well then let’s just see what happens,” Taehyung shrugs. “We’ve got a game to watch, a party to go to, and friends to catch up with.”

“And a nice, peaceful home to retire to after tonight. I’ll need all the good energy before I see the rest of my family tomorrow,” you sigh.

Right, there’s that, Taehyung frowns. Your family’s too complicated that you insist you don’t want him to get sucked into the drama, hence why you don’t want him to go with you. But between that and the possibility of seeing your ex, he could only hope that during this trip, you won’t get your heart broken too early, too quickly, or too hard.

“How is it that the Pegasus have been playing here for months but it’s the first time we’re watching their game live?” Geumjae asks incredulously as he sips his beer.

“Because it’s the first home game of the season against the Thunders when I’m home and when Jungkook and Namjoon don’t have girlfriends to give their tickets to,” Yoongi explains to his older brother. “And well, I never asked before.”

“Well, good on us that you’re here and your friends currently don’t have girlfriends,” Geumjae laughs. “Also, you could totally ask. They’re your friends; I don’t think it would be that hard for them to get extra seats for us.”

“I’m not their only friend here. I’m sure a bunch of the guys from college would ask,” Yoongi shrugs.

“You’re not just their friend, Yoon,” his brother groans. “You played with them, you captained them, and led them to college championships.”

“Yeah, yet I’m the one hustling it out as a college coach while they’re playing pro,” the younger man huffs.

He doesn’t mean to be bitter. He loves those guys, hustled it out with them until the late evenings just to get the proper training and workout in almost a decade ago. He couldn't be any prouder when Jungkook and Namjoon got drafted to professional teams and then reunited as teammates with the Seoul Samsung Thunders just 2 years ago. Yoongi had been the encouraging senior who messaged them right away, happy for his peers for being together again just like old times. He won’t lie and say it didn’t sting a bit to be left out from the life they all dreamed of having, with him being the only one who didn’t get to achieve it alongside them.

“Well, if it matters at all, you’re doing amazing,” Geumjae tries to cheer his brother up. “I read online that many are calling your team to win it all this year. Imagine being the only person in your school’s history to be a champion player and coach? Not just anyone can say that.”

Yoongi hums, trying to let the thought comfort him. It doesn’t do much; coaching a college basketball team is leagues away from playing professionally. The energy is different, so is the hustle. Shooting hoops with the kids during training isn’t the same. The lights and the cheers as he sits on the bench calling plays isn’t the same either. He can at least say that with coaching, he’s able to shape and mentor the young ones, direct them to better paths, encourage them to reach their dreams, and to not settle for a life they’re not happy with or proud of. He’s got a bunch of players who got drafted last year and dedicated their first professional game to him, and that’s an indescribable feeling he’ll always hold onto. It reminds him that even if it wasn’t him, it was at least someone he cared about.

He watches as the players do their warmups on court before the start of the game. This isn’t the first time he’s watched live, but it’s the first time with Jungkook and Namjoon as teammates, so seeing them goof around and do the handshake that they used to do warms his heart a little. Maybe it’s this bit of joy that he needs to remind him that it’s okay, that even if life turned out differently for him, at least basketball is still part of his life. There’s more he wants, of course, but this is way better than nothing. He reminds himself at one point, he didn’t think he could ever set foot on a basketball court again.

The game finally starts and though he’s usually quiet whenever he watches games, he can’t help the small small cheer he makes whenever Jungkook or Namjoon scores or makes crucial plays. He still knows their moves, can still read Jungkook’s pump-fake, and can still tell by Namjoon’s stance if he’s gonna make that rare three. Though he was a shooting guard during his glory days, Yoongi still prides himself in his playmaking skills and knowing his teammates well, something that scouts used to rave about.

Yoongi sips his beer, no doubt enjoying the exciting match. He obviously wants the Thunders to win, but the Pegasus aren’t backing down, not letting themselves trail by more than 8 points. He’s in a bit of a trance, as he lets himself drown in the cheers of the crowd, imagining that it’s him leaving it all out on the court.

But as he looks up on the big screen during timeout, he feels like the air is being sucked out of him. His ears don’t betray them either, as the announcer calls on your name and Taehyung’s - “celebrity sightings,” he says, while you and your best friend wave to the camera and smile like the superstars that you both are. The cheers get louder and Geumjae joins them until he realizes.

“Shit, that’s your ex-girlfriend,” he whisper-shouts. He laughs at the scene of his brother practically choking on his drink. “Wow, she still has that effect on you, huh?”

“No, she doesn’t,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, desperately forcing his heart to slow its beating.

“Did you know she’s gonna be here?”

“I don’t keep tabs on her whereabouts, Geumjae,” he replies, suddenly sounding hard, defensive.

“Do you think she’s gonna be at the party?”

Fuck, the party, Yoongi slightly panics. Jungkook talked about the sort of reunion he’s throwing at his house after the game. Their old teammates will be there, as well as some other friends from college who are still in the city. You and Taehyung were honorary members of that group and Yoongi knows that you’re both invited, too.

“I guess,” he merely shrugs, looking like it doesn’t bother him much.

It shouldn’t. It’s been 6 years, and while he’d been the one to break it off, you’re the one who’s dated a lot since then, something he can’t fault you for. You’d obviously catch a lot of attention - you did catch his - not just for your charm and unbelievable beauty but for your talent as well. He’s not surprised that you’re rumored to be dating Kim Seokjin, said to be this decade’s most desired leading man and who also happens to be your good friend, the one who’d helped you out a lot during your years in university. Yoongi used to be a little jealous then, something he never told you, and well, he guesses it’s meant to be with you and Seokjin now, a man he could probably never live up to.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Geumjae breaks through his thoughts.

“Yeah. Why won’t I be?” Yoongi huffs, sinking back to his seat to watch the game that suddenly isn’t so interesting anymore.

His question is left unanswered and his brother resumes his cheers, no doubt invested in this match that’s now tied. But Yoongi drifts in and out, his eyes following the players up and down the court then mindlessly landing on you. You’re seated in a relaxed manner, the opposite to how you used to watch his games. He sees you silently cheer for the Thunders, too, and you giggle at Taehyung when you scream louder than you intended, your hand covering your mouth as you lean on your friend and he laughs along.

He could hear the sound of your laughter from across the gymnasium, as if the way the dulcet tone of your voice used to send shivers down his spine whenever you giggled in his ears was just yesterday. He shakes off the goosebumps he feels and tries to sit comfortably on the chair.

“Are you nervous?” Geumjae asks. “You’re awfully quiet.”

“Since when was I ever loud during a basketball game?” He shoots his brother an incredulous look.

“You may not make a sound but your body does,” the older man points out. “I could feel you buzzing earlier and cheering in that Yoongi way of yours but now,” he eyes him up and down, “your legs are just bouncing. And you're biting your nails again.”

Yoongi catches himself. He forces his leg to be still and tucks his hand under it. It’s a tell he has, and he has no doubt that his brother has caught on. Still, he lies. “The game’s close. I want the Thunders to win.”

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

“Yes, now can we just focus on the game?” Yoongi chides, not wanting to confirm whatever his brother’s suspicions are.

“Fine, but for the record, I know exactly why you’re nervous.”

“I don’t really care.”

Geumjae sighs as he watches his brother’s gaze go to you once more, unknowingly, perhaps, as Yoongi seems to shake himself off after every time he realizes that his eyes were locked on your direction. But he can’t blame the younger man. You entered his life and he fell, extremely hard, and letting you go was the most difficult thing he ever had to do. Yoongi doesn’t need to tell him though, but there’s enough of his younger brother’s broken pieces lying around for Geumjae to know that it was also something he regretted doing, and he wishes his brother was at least brave enough to admit all that.

The Thunders win by 5 points. It was nail-biting until the very end. It was Namjoon’s crucial offensive rebound and Jungkook’s 3-point shot that sealed the game for them, and Yoongi was present enough to witness those last few plays. He decides to enjoy this moment with his friends, knowing they’d be asking him about it later. If he’ll still go to the party. Somehow, seeing you again made him a little dizzy. It was still on the screen, but now he’s not sure he’ll know what to do when he sees you in person.

He and his brother let the crowds go before heading out separately. Geumjae’s car is parked elsewhere, and Yoongi decides to head to the washroom and pace his walk to the parking lot. Hands on his pockets and eyes glued to the floor, he hears a gasp, and he releases one himself when he sees you, hiding behind one of the vending machines as a group of fans at the end of the hallways starts walking towards your direction, wondering aloud where you went.

He sees the panicked look in your eyes and decides to stop the crowd before they come any closer.

“She headed that way,” he announces, pointing to the right. “There’s an exit there. She probably left already.”

You hear the disappointed sighs, and much as you don’t want to let your fans down - you’re not one to deny them autographs - there have been too many of them this afternoon and you weren’t mentally prepared to accommodate each one of them. The footsteps disappear not long after and you let out a sigh of relief. That was close, but you didn’t expect Yoongi, of all people, to be the one to stir them away.

You turn to him, about to say your thanks, but somehow the words get stuck in your throat. You recall being a giddy mess the very first time you saw him, with nibbled lips and palpitating heart as you watched him shoot baskets and dribble the ball like no one’s business, and you’d been a goner since then. But he was a lot thinner during that time. His hair was cut short and his eyes had this sharp, confident gaze that usually intimidated people. You eventually saw how they softened only for you, though, but you’ll always remember that summer and how he had you wanting him at first glance.

This man before you isn’t all that different. He still has the same sharp eyes, with his look penetrating right through your soul like he knows you and well, he does, which is also why he was quick to misdirect the crowd after he perhaps saw the look of worry on your face. His tiny nose is the same, so is his pale skin. But his hair is now long, pushed back in the middle as it softly reaches close to his shoulders. He’s a lot leaner; you can easily tell from what’s hiding behind his thin white shirt underneath his blue jacket. You recall him dressing mostly in monotone colors, so seeing him in something a little more striking is new. He’s gorgeous just like before, and you don’t really know why you expected that he wouldn’t render you speechless this time around.

“___,” he calls out. “Were they bothering you?”

“No, uh…” you stutter, hating yourself for suddenly being nervous. “There were just too many of them and they were getting quite close, I kind of panicked. Stupid, really. I should be used to it by now. More of them came and I just…”

“If they were invading your personal space then that’s not right,” he says, his tone so serious you mistake it for worry. “Did they touch you or anything?”

“Oh no! Nothing like that. I just got a bit overwhelmed.”

“Where’s Taehyung?” He asks, as you watch him walk to the vending machine where you’re hiding, tap his card, and then get the bottled water that falls out. He opens it and hands it to you as if he’d done this so many times before, and well, he actually has.

“He met up with a couple of friends,” you explain. “The crowd got to me right after and I kinda lost him, but I told him I’ll meet him outside, somewhere near where the players come out.”

“Hmm, okay,” Yoongi hums, looking away.

He should’ve expected you to look way more beautiful up close but he tends to overestimate his ability to be entranced by you. He’s surprised he even got any word out, but the worry crept in the moment he saw you look a little winded and he just wanted to make sure you were alright. You’re a celebrity, after all, and the city’s “Princess,” as they claim.

You look a little nervous though, and a part of him just wants to scold Taehyung for leaving you behind, seeing as neither of you looked like you had security with you earlier. But that shouldn’t be his responsibility anymore, he reminds himself.

“Thanks for the water, by the way,” you speak up. “How much was it?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks again,” you smile shyly. “So, uhm, do you know where the other exit is? I’m kind of lost.”

“Oh, uh… the one close to where the players go out is there,” he cocks his head to the left, towards a hallway behind swinging doors. “I can uh, I can show you where.”

“Ah, that would be great. Did you park close there, too?”

No.

“Yeah,” he lies. “Let’s go before more people see you.”

He opens the door and walks after you. It doesn’t help that the hallway suddenly feels much smaller and closed off because now, Yoongi has to listen to your footsteps and nothing else, since neither one of you chooses to talk.

What does he say to the woman he broke up with 6 years ago? Maybe he can say something about your recently concluded series. He thought it was really good. Is it weird to ask what your next project is? Perhaps. You probably can’t even tell him. How was it like being the leading lady this time? Fuck, he’s not a talk show host or anything like that.

He sees the end of the hallway before his mind can come up with another stupid question, and he rushes to the door before you do, catching you by surprise.

“Just wanted to make sure there’s no one to bother you,” he explains, as you exit the building with questioning eyes.

“Oh, thanks,” you smile shyly again.

He’s not used to it. He remembers the way your eyes used to gaze at him constantly, how your smile and laughter were all cheeky and flirty, how the tone of your voice was always so confident, so charming. He thinks that maybe like him, you’re just as surprised and unsure about seeing each other after so long. He doesn’t know what to make of things beyond that.

“Do you have someone to pick you up?” he asks, needing to prepare himself if, as a last resort, he’d need to drive you somewhere.

“Yeah, Tae and I were supposed to ride together but,” you pause, checking your phone for your best friend’s text message, “he rode off with his friends and said he’d meet me at Jungkook’s instead so I’m just waiting for the guys. There’s the—”

Party, Yoongi says in his head.

“___!” Jungkook’s loud voice cuts you off. He jogs up to you and puts an arm around your shoulders, unaware of the man in front of you who’s being blocked by a wall. “You ready to go? Tae said he went ahead.”

Yoongi makes his presence known with a low grunt, his eyes pacing from his friend to you. You both look a lot closer than he remembers, and Yoongi’s mind goes to that first time you all met, how Jungkook had announced during their team celebration that the “girl with the yellow scarf on her hair is so pretty” and that he’d wanted to ask you out. Of course, things turned out differently - you weren’t interested in the younger man. But that was years ago. Jungkook has had an impressive professional career and he lives in Seoul. Maybe things have changed for you.

You follow Yoongi’s eyes. Despite many people claiming that he’s difficult to read because of the default unconcerned, almost detached look he has for every situation, you think he’s actually pretty transparent.

Or maybe that’s just you. You’ve spent enough time with him to know his sound of annoyance and the meaning of his body language. You’ve memorized that pretty face of his at one point that you can tell the slightest parting of his lips and the tiniest drop of his eyes, which could mean that he’s confused, sad, or disappointed. Maybe all.

“Oh, we’re not…” you exclaim, surprising yourself, to the amusement of Namjoon, who suddenly appears next to you. “I mean, Jungkook and I aren’t… a thing.”

You promptly remove the man’s arm from your shoulder and try to decipher Yoongi’s look now. Is it relief? Does he believe you? Does he think it’s silly that you had to clarify that, which you’re wondering why you did?

“Okay,” Yoongi says.

Perhaps you’re wrong. You can’t tell right now what he’s feeling.

“We just… got to hanging out when I got drafted by the Thunders,” Jungkook now clarifies, which he quickly realizes is maybe making this awkward situation a lot worse.

You’re Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend after all, and Jungkook had been the one to reach out to you when he moved to Seoul, but not once did he try to pursue you all these years. He respects his captain too much and cares for what you both had, which is why he maintained his friendship with you even after the breakup.

“That’s nice to know,” Yoongi replies, his tone nonchalant like always.

He’s glad he can keep his cool that well, even if his heart was just about to explode at the thought of you possibly dating his friend. He doesn’t know why he cares, though, as he never really thought much about the so-called code that stated that exes were off-limits to friends.

He’s just about to turn around when Namjoon calls out. “Min, you’re still going to the party, right?”

Yoongi looks at you, who promptly looks away. Up until 10 minutes ago, he was about 80% sure he would. He didn’t think that being in close proximity to you would make him remember all sorts of things, and that itself is enough for him to run for the hills and avoid you. He won’t claim he did his best to forget about you - he at least tried, and that still counts - but he didn’t expect he’d ever get a chance to be near you, much less talk to you and be in the same place as you. Again.

But he looks at his friends’ eyes, both pairs unsure yet practically begging him to still go. He remembers these looks, and he swears it’s because he doesn’t want to let both of them down that he battles with the inner part of himself and decides to still go. It definitely doesn’t have anything to do with somehow finding out for how long you’re staying, and why you’re here in the first place.

“Yeah. I’ll see you guys there,” he replies, turning around now and heading towards his car on the opposite side of the parking lot.

You watch Yoongi walk away, unsure of why your heart is beating as fast as it is. It had been like that since you saw him after hiding from the fans, and even more so when you walked silently in the hallway to head outside.

You knew you were gonna see him, maybe even at the party, but not in the way you did. And all your confidence at not being bothered or affected with seeing him again melts away.

You weren’t prepared for how good he’d look, for how concerned he’d be over your safety, and for that hint of disappointment on his face at the thought of you being with Jungkook. Neither were you prepared for that incredibly tiny part of you that wants to know how he’s doing and if he’d managed to piece together the broken parts of himself and his dream that he so adamantly chose over you.

You survive the car ride by glaring at Namjoon every time he starts teasing you about panicking over Yoongi thinking that you were dating Jungkook, while the latter curses as he drives, claiming he survived one of the scariest moments of his life.

You arrive in Jungkook’s house in half an hour, a nice place he bought for himself because he said that Daegu will always be home for him. The sliding doors to the patio give it a spacious feel, and you see that a couple of his friends had already prepped the space, complete with beer kegs and beer pong tables, the way you remember they always used to party.

The 3 of you spot Taehyung who greets you, and the 2 men next to you proceed to narrate what happened, to your best friend’s shock and amusement. You also fill all of them in with the first part of the story about Yoongi finding you as you hid away from the crowd.

“How… symbolic,” Namjoon hums. “You meet at a basketball court in Daegu after a game while you were hiding from fans because you’re such a bigtime actress now. I mean, it’s quite ironic. The universe is out to tease you or something.”

You agree, it is. It’s times like this when you wish you didn’t believe in fate and destiny because doing so would just give you false hope that you and Yoongi may be meant for more than just those 2 years together. And you absolutely hate it because you can’t fall into that trap of thinking that you’re meant for a happy ending that includes him. That ship sailed a long time ago - 6 years and about 5 partners later.

But as Yoongi enters the house, his bowed head turning up to search the area before daintily tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, you start to think that maybe that ship decided to turn back around and sail towards you once again. He briefly meets your eyes before someone calls out to him, and you’re left to admire him from afar, cute button nose and impeccable side profile and all.

Taehyung pulls you by the arm and whispers in your ear. “Okay, so what’s our plan?”

“What do you mean, our plan?” You ask, realizing you’ve lost Yoongi as you glance in the direction of where he was, no longer finding him there. “Plan for what?”

“Yoongi, obviously,” Taehyung rolls his eyes. “Do we avoid him, be civil, pretend you don’t think about him anymore, or act like the past 8 years didn’t happen and we don’t actually know him?”

“None of the above,” you groan. “What kinds of options are those?”

“Decent ones?”

“Nope. You’ve already had a lot to drink and I don’t trust you when you’re drunk.”

“Except you should. This is when I don’t hold back when it comes to you,” Taehyung answers.

“And you hold back otherwise?” You frown.

“Just when it’s about him. It was tough for a long time. I know sometimes it still is.”

You don’t have the heart to disagree. This man has been your best friend for a decade and he knows how you are, knows which pains of yours you’re willing to talk about and which ones you’d rather hide away. Your acting skills may be good but you know that Taehyung can see behind all the smiles and the detachment and the effort to look okay, and whatever it is he’s thinking, there’s a good chance he might be right. You’ve just never been brave enough to admit them.

The look of understanding you both share gets disrupted when cheers erupt in the middle of the living room, seeing that Seungkwan had just beaten Jungkook in beer pong. The pro player demands a rematch and the entire house cheers in agreement. Jungkook takes the next game but Seungkwan won’t back down.

“Let’s do it in pairs,” he challenges. “I take Joon.”

“Fine,” Jungkook says, his game face on, knowing there’s one other person he knows could win this with him. “I take the Captain.”

Cheers erupt once more as people push Yoongi to the center where the rest of the guys are. He shakes his head, seemingly uninterested in partaking in tonight’s festivities but goes anyway after much coaxing from everyone. He then does his handshake with Jungkook to the younger man’s insistence, and you watch Yoongi’s soft, shy smile appear.

And just like the very first time you saw that, you feel your heart thrum in excitement. There was always something special about it, and back then it was because he rarely did it, but he did it a lot when he was with you. It’s nice to see it during a moment like this - surrounded by his old friends while having fun with them. You’re glad he shows more of it now, and you wonder how many people fell harder for him because of it.

You watch from the sideline as the Jungkook-Yoongi pair score 4 straight. Seungkwan complains that Namjoon isn’t making any shots, prompting the older man to claim that he’s way better at dunking than shooting tiny balls like they’re jumpers. They eventually lose after all the theatrics but it’s enough to get the guests going, as you find yourself teasing both men as well.

You remember their house parties being this rowdy and this loud, given all the energy and testosterone that these athletes had so much of. That obviously hasn’t changed, and despite all of them having grown up, looking all mature and much more respectable, the naughtiness remains, especially once they’ve had too much to drink.

It’s why you find yourself surrounded by a bunch of the guys, asking for a photo with you to show off to their friends and families.

“I’m showing this to the guys at the office,” Seungkwan announces as he gets your approval over the selfie picture he took of you both. “They’re not gonna believe I went to college with an actress.”

“Uh, I didn’t go to college with you,” you laugh along with the others. “I studied in Seoul.”

“Then how the fuck do we know you?” He exclaims, no doubt drunk out of his mind at this point. You remember him having a short-term memory every time.

“He’s the Captain’s ex, dumbo!” Soon-young reminds him, another one of the younger guys who hasn’t drank as much but was never good at knowing what not to say. “Remember the summer before his final year? She was with us all the time.”

“Oh right. They were inseparable and looked so in love,” Seungkwan giggles, and at this point, the rest of the people just go with what he’s saying.

Not you though, neither does Yoongi, and neither does Namjoon, who slaps the back of Seungkwan’s head to loud-whisper that the ex-couple in question is right there.

“Shit, did they hear me?” Seungkwan wonders out loud and looks around before sipping his beer. “I meant it though.”

He laughs drunkenly, so do many others. There’s really only a handful of you who aren’t intoxicated, but right now you wish you were.

“Wait, they’re both here?” Seungkwan recovers, eyes now glassy.

He gasps when his gaze turns to you and then Yoongi, and he puts his arm over your shoulder and slightly drags you to the right so he could put his arm over Yoongi, too.

“I found them!” Seungkwan squeals, pushing both of you to face him. “Shit, you still look good together.”

“Alright, dude, that’s enough,” Namjoon finally steps in, pulling the inebriated man away. “Sorry,” he turns to you. “Don’t mind anything he said.”

Too late, you want to say, but you release an awkward laugh instead.

“They haven’t changed since college, huh,” Yoongi says, surprising you. “They still put us on the spot then leave us to deal with the aftermath,” he continues, watching as the group disperses to go drink and chat again.

You turn towards him and sigh in relief over the small smile he has on. You swear the tension was so thick earlier that you could cut it with a knife, but Yoongi doesn’t seem bothered. He looks calm like he always does, and just like those first few times, you take your cue from him. You try to release the tension from your body and smile.

“They should be banned from drinking when there are ex-lovers in the building,” you chuckle. “But I’m pretty sure he’ll be apologizing to you like crazy once he’s sober. Wish I could see that.”

“I can’t wait for that, too,” Yoongi hums.

A wave of silence envelopes you both. The sounds of your friends seem like white noise now, and with the background music on and the man next to you just sipping his drink, it’s oddly comforting.

You learned long ago that he has this amazing ability to do that - make people around them feel calm. There’s something so reassuring about him that remarks about your past don’t faze him, and now that’s rubbing off on you, as you feel the awkwardness slowly melt away.

You and Yoongi stand by the couch while the world around you continues. You’d stay in this bubble with him if it wasn’t so familiar, only because the familiarity scares you a little. You don’t want to know if anything else feels the same.

“I’m gonna look for Tae,” you say, breaking the silence.

You only need to look to your left at the sound of someone hooting to find your best friend downing another cup of some concoction, and by the sound of his laugh, you know this is the one that will do it for him. This is his point of no return. Anything he does after is not meant for many people to see; he has an image to protect, after all.

“Alright, that’s my cue,” you say, walking towards him.

You cup Taehyung’s face in your hands and tell him that the party’s over and you’ll take him home. He argues, but you remind him that he’s a celebrity and that he can’t have drunk pictures of him circulating online. His inebriated mind sort of gets it, and you take him in your arms and start looking around, trying to see which of the guys are the most stable one to drive.

“How are you going home?”

“Uh…” you turn to face Yoongi. “One of… them? Jungkook, Wooz, Soon-young all offered.”

“And they’ve all had a lot to drink,” he replies.

“Who here hasn’t?” You chuckle, eyes still searching the room. You don’t want to ask your safest option, which is the man in front of you. You’re not quite sure how your heart can handle that.

“Me,” he says so casually. “I just had one bottle.”

You know what he means, even more when he goes to Taehyung’s side to help you assist your drunk best friend. Yoongi doesn’t say anything else though; he just stands there while waiting for your reply. This is about safety, you remind yourself, and it has nothing to do with suddenly wanting to be in his presence just a little longer.

“Okay,” you reply, knowing he knows what you mean, too.

“Okay.”

All three of you say goodbye to your friends, all of whom give you smug looks, passing up on the teasing now given Yoongi’s displeased face after someone remarks that “mom and dad are taking care of their kid again.” This isn’t a new scene for them, either. Taehyung just tends to have a lot of genuine fun when he’s with his friends; it’s something you relate with after being in the industry you’re in.

You and Yoongi help Taehyung in the backseat where you sit, with your best friend’s head securely on your lap because he’s now complaining of a migraine. Your designated driver starts the car shortly after he checks on both of you.

“Neither of you took your cars?” He asks.

“Tae did but passed up on driving tonight,” you say. “I would’ve driven, had I known he won’t be able to control himself. I’m still waiting for my requested rental car.”

Yoongi merely hums and focuses on the road while you… well, while you sort of focus on him. Your position behind the passenger seat allows you a view from the side - from how his fingers drum the steering wheel to how he nibbles his lips. His eyes are focused on the road but you can tell he’s focused on both of you, too, with the way he turns to the back whenever Taehyung makes some garbled sound or just to ask you if you’re okay.

You watched him do this so many times before with you next to him, holding his hand and kissing his cheek at every stoplight. For someone who loves music, he never put the radio on when he drove you. He said it allowed him to focus on you, and that memory isn’t one that you really want to think of right now, especially since it’s silent in the car. You don’t know which ones you’d rather remember, though - the good ones or the bad. You suppose either would hurt regardless, and this wasn’t something that you prepared for.

You make it to your best friend’s house as you and Yoongi assist him to the gate to Mrs. Kim’s shock. She scolds a barely-awake Taehyung and apologizes profusely to Yoongi, who says she’s happy to see him in their home once again. As Mr. Kim takes his son up to his room, Yoongi turns to you and asks if you need a ride home.

“I’m sleeping over,” you say in a panic. “Someone’s got to take care of his drunk ass.”

“Okay,” Yoongi says, briefly meeting your eyes before nodding towards his car. “I’ll go ahead. It was nice seeing you again, ___.”

They’re simple words that any old friend would tell another after seeing them in years, but somehow they hit you differently. This entire evening hasn’t been a dream or some made up scenario in your head where you meet the man you loved after so long.

He’s here. With you. Looking at you in a way you’re very unfamiliar with - with a calmness in his eyes and a hint of care and acceptance, as if he’s glad you’re here but that he’s well aware of the years between you, of the years that passed by, of the years that changed you both.

You don’t respond fast enough because before you know it, he’s turning around, ready to head out the door.

“It was nice seeing you, too, Yoongi,” you say softly.

But he hears it, stops walking for a while, and then opens the door and walks out.

You wonder if he’d said something the day you left, would you have stopped and turned around? Or would you have kept walking?

But thinking about that won’t do you any good, so you turn away as well and head upstairs.

Outside, Yoongi steps on the gas, turns to the next corner, and then stops the car. He clasps his hands together so they’d stop shaking, and he lets himself breathe for the first time tonight. He’s kept his cool long enough, but after everything - the party, the teasing, the car ride - he doesn’t think he can hold the emotions in any longer, and he doesn’t even know what they are.

Longing? Sadness? Regret? Is it the unspeakable feeling of fear at the thought of you dating one of his friends who might actually be good for you? Is it relief at the idea that letting you go was the best thing that he could’ve ever done for you? Is it confusion over wanting so badly to take you in his arms but not wanting to feel your touch, knowing it would remind him of everything he’s tried to forget?

Yoongi lays his head on the headrest and takes a breath. You’re so beautiful, as if some light shines on you wherever you go. It’s probably the glow you emit; he’s told you that before but you always said he was just teasing. He sees it even more now.

But it’s also the crinkle of your eyes when you smile that sweet smile of yours that makes things feel familiar, and because of that, uneasy. It’s that honey sound of your voice; he heard it as you laughed during the party and joked around with everyone. It’s that captivating look you have, the one that says you know something but you want to know more; he felt that look when he entered the house and as he drove you earlier.

He wonders if you saw past him, past his nonchalance and calm demeanor. You were always so good at that - knowing there was more behind his passiveness, knowing how to get a reaction from him, knowing which buttons to push so he’d open up and let you in.

He doesn’t know if he should be afraid that you still know how to do it, or if he should revel in it because he’s missed you, more than he could ever say and more than he’d ever care to admit.

But beyond all that, he’s sure that one of his emotions is happiness. Every time you talked about work and being able to watch yourself on screen - he swears he didn’t eavesdrop but that he just happened to be there - there was that excitement that felt like the continuation from when you used to talk about your big dreams with him.

You got what you wanted and you worked hard to get to where you are and he knows you’re proud of yourself and that’s all he’s ever wanted. Seeing that smile - he knows. Letting you go was the best thing he’s ever done for you.

“What are you doing here?”

Taehyung’s hoarse voice forces your eyes off the ceiling onto your side where he’s currently hugging his pillow, messy hair and pouty lips on display.

“Trying to get some rest after I saved your drunk ass last night,” you bitterly respond. “I got to you before any compromising photos or videos were taken. You’re welcome.”

“Hmm, thanks,” he groans. “But uh, why are you here? Didn’t you say you wanted proper rest in your house before seeing your family today?”

“Right, uh… you see. Yoongi drove us here, and then he asked if I wanted a ride home but I kinda panicked and said I’m sleeping over so… Here I am!” You laugh, unconvincingly. “My rental car’s on the way here. I’ll drive to my house and then go to my dad’s.”

“Ugh, you’re so dumb,” he says, sinking into his comforter. You gasp in response. “That was your chance to be alone with him but you didn’t take the offer. We both know you wanted to.”

“Tae, being drunk and not holding anything back doesn’t mean you can just assume things like that,” you respond, sitting up and frowning at him. “I didn’t want to be alone with him, that’s why I’m here!”

“Why didn’t you want to be alone with him?” He answers back.

“Uhm, why would I want to?” You ask incredulously. “Since when was getting in a car alone with an ex ever a good idea?”

“Why? You’re afraid you’d kiss him if you did?”

You scowl at your best friend. “I should’ve left you there drunk with possible penis drawings on your face.”

“Just being honest. It’s not like you’ve never done that with him before,” he shrugs.

“I hate you.”

“I know. But you’ll love me later on. At least I’m still half asleep.”

You push him awake, the stress heightening now as the previous night plays in your head.

“Tae! What happened to my hi, goodbye plan?!” You groan. “I was literally just supposed to say hi and then be civil, like, acknowledge his presence but not be affected by it. But then we had some small talk and he drove us home.”

“We all know it was a denial plan,” he huffs. “It was bound to fail.”

“Gee, thanks. You’re being incredibly helpful right now,” you frown again.

“Fine,” he grumbles, sitting now. “You had small talk, he drove you here. How are those affecting you and why are you making it a big deal?”

“I’m not making it a big deal,” you point out.

“You kinda are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You are because that’s how things started before. And you’re afraid that one small misstep will cause you to fall for him all over again, fast and hard, because that’s how you are when it comes to him.”

“You’re hungover and tired so your judgment is impaired,” you say, crossing your arms. “You remember what happened after all that. I’ll be perpetually grateful that you never pushed me to talk about it unless I was drunk and couldn’t remember things but I was heartbroken, Tae. And then I was numb. It took a while before I started to feel again.”

“I know,” he says, taking you in his arms now as he holds you like a baby - a rare occurrence, as this often happens the other way around. “And I can never fault you for it because even if it was like that summer fling that only happened in the movies, I know you loved him, genuinely and intensely, and a love like that stays with you. But he’s got a good life here, ___, and you’ve got an amazing one in Seoul. You just have to remember why it didn’t work out in the first place and make sure you don’t fall into that trap again. Just… acknowledge that. For your sake. And then do what you need to do so you don’t make the same mistakes again.”

Enveloped in his warmth, you take in your best friend’s words. He may still be hungover and may also be confused but his comfort never seizes, and it’s one of the reasons why you love him dearly.

“So yeah, good on you I guess for not taking that ride with him. Maybe staying away and keeping your distance might be good,” he adds.

Your silence somehow alarms him, so he nudges you. “It’s a good idea, right?”

“I don’t know. Suddenly I feel like staying away and keeping my distance will let him know that it still affects me. He’ll always know me like that,” you sigh, hugging him tightly for more comfort. “And there’s this part of me that wants to show him that I’m fine, you know? That even with everything that happened between us, I walked away from it knowing what I deserve, and that’s someone who’ll fight through life with me. He didn’t and that’s on him but he had his reasons, and looking back, maybe he was right. Maybe he had to let me go, and maybe - because I loved him genuinely and intensely - I want to show him that it wasn’t all in vain. And that I’m happy. Even without him.”

“You don’t need to prove anything to him, you know?”

Maybe I want to prove it to myself, you don’t say. There’s a stubbornness in you that doesn’t go away.

“This isn’t about him, is it?” Taehyung levels his head with you.

For someone hungover, he still knows you pretty well.

You just sigh and fall back in his arms. He doesn’t push you. He just hugs you again until you both fall back in bed and he can comfortably curl his body all over you because it’s Taehyung and he likes to do this.

“Just be careful, alright?” He pleads.

“You know I also kinda don’t have a choice,” you reply. “It’s a small town and we’re bound to see each other. Jungkook and Namjoon have a game here again in a few weeks and that means another get together.”

“Yeah, but you know what I mean.”

You hum. “Promise me you’ll be by my side whatever happens?”

“Always, you stubborn woman. I’m the one person who’ll never leave you even if you push me away.”

The lunch with your family is how you expect it to go - with your older sisters making some backhanded comments about your fame and how you’ve been “too busy” to even visit, and your father trying to dissolve the tension. He’s at least genuinely curious about how you’ve been, asking if you’re eating well and getting enough rest. Your stepmom raves about your drama series and shares that she cried during the finale.

“Why did he have to go back to his planet?” Garam’s 7-year old asks after your stepmom narrates what happened.

“His time on earth was up,” you explain. “He finished his mission and he had to leave.”

“But why didn’t he stay if he was happy?”

“Because he had a responsibility in his home,” you smile. “He wasn’t made for this world.”

“He didn’t have a choice, sweetie,” Garam adds after her daughter comments that it was sad. “That’s understandable. Some people leave because they’re no longer happy with those around them. Or because their dreams are more important than those they supposedly love. Isn’t that sadder?”

“It is. Don’t leave me, Mama,” the little one pouts.

“Oh sweetie, I never will. I don’t leave people that I love,” Garam responds, glancing at you to make a statement.

You zone out after that, not wanting to engage with your sisters anymore. You play with their kids, though, who get excited when they see you on TV. You don’t want to treat them like you hold a grudge against them even if you do so with their mothers. Your sisters continue to do that with you - resent you when it’s your mom they’re really angry at for leaving your already unhappy family after she got her dream job in Paris. You were never angry though but you did sort of follow in her footsteps, and your sisters hated you even more because of that.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Your father asks, the hope in his eyes hurting you.

Things weren’t going well with your parents for a while, giving your mom more reason to leave, but you always wished that he had done more for you to feel loved in the home that started to become toxic after it fell apart, but you suppose he was just trying to heal his own broken heart after his wife left. It felt like your sisters weren’t going to forgive you when you decided to leave yourself, and he just let you walk away without making sure you knew he still loved you despite your decision.

He’s moved on now, though, and happy with someone who prioritizes him and his needs. But too much time and distance can pull people apart - you can see them without the desire of being with them. That’s the reality with you and him now and there’s not much you can do about it.

“No, I’ve got other plans,” you respond, glancing at your sisters who return your look with bitterness. “I’ll see you at grandpa’s tomorrow.”

You drive around for half an hour with no destination in mind. It’s nice to see how much this place has changed and discover which parts of it still feel the same.

You pass by an antique shop - the antique shop, a generations-old family-run store that used to be the hub of imported furniture that the townspeople once flocked to. It’s now a speciality store that still sells one-of-a-kind items but it also refurbishes old pieces. You see a poster on the window that’s promoting woodworking workshops. You won’t be surprised to find out whose idea that was.

A man briefly exits, and you stop near the front, wanting to just take it in. He’s got more gray hair now and walks a little slower but he looks just like you remembered - soft crinkled eyes, comforting smile, a look that you know all too well. You decide to enter, as you’re desperate for something - anything - that feels more like home than the one you just came from.

“May I help you?” The man asks.

“A greeting and a hug would do,” you look up at him and smile.

“___?!” He gasps, walking outside the counter to get closer to you. “Is that really you, my dear?”

“Yes it is, Mr. Min,” you smile, returning the hug that you requested. “Just passing by my favorite antique shop in town. How are you doing?”

“Great! Business is stable and I’ve still got a lot of fight in me to continue,” he chuckles. “How about you? The big city treating you good?”

“It is,” you reply. “I think I’m doing quite okay there.”

“Ah, well it should be treating you amazingly. That’s what you deserve.”

You continue the conversation, with you asking about his latest projects and him, talking about his furniture and wood like his children, pride laced in his voice every time. He asks you about your latest series and if you’ve met his favorite actors and you indulge him. His laughter is music to your ears. You remember spending time here where he worked on his pieces while you talked about your favorite movies.

“Does my son know you’re here?” He asks after a beat of silence.

“He does. I saw him last night. He looks well.”

“He does, doesn’t he? It took a while but he’s doing much better than before - smiling, joking around, helping me at the shop, talking about basketball again. It’s nice to see.”

The words hit you in ways you didn’t expect. Breaking up with Yoongi was tough to get over. Those last few months had been incredibly hard and so many times you thought that maybe if you’d been more patient, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.

But you remember how during those last days with him, he’d lost the glimmer in his eyes and the softness of his smile. Not even you could bring those back. His passion for things just dwindled; he stopped wanting more, stopped wanting you, stopped thinking that things could still work out for him after what he suffered through.

You’d kept in touch with Namjoon and Jungkook at their insistence, and they’d been the one to update you on how Yoongi was doing. Not a lot of details but just general things like the jobs he took and that he was keeping himself busy and that he was trying to get back on the court. It wasn’t with unpleasant stories, though - you learned about his new girlfriend from them, and that he didn’t play basketball for awhile, and that during the toughest days, he considered giving it up altogether.

You knew he’d done well. You learned that from the guys, too. But hearing it from his father is different; you can’t imagine how it must’ve been like for Mr. Min to see his son start to change from what he used to be. But you know that as the good father that he is, he made sure that Yoongi knew he wasn’t alone.

“And that’s good to hear,” you say. “Yoongi deserves all the happiness this world can give. I’m glad that he’s found his joy in basketball again it seems. And that he found it here.”

“He has, but I guess something will always be missing. He’s a lot better but he’s not the same. A parent would know, you know? The flame doesn’t shine as bright,” Mr. Min answers, the tinge of sadness in his eyes hurting you a little.

But you just nod. His words seem to mean more but you don’t want to know what it is.

“Dad, what did you want me to look at?”

Yoongi’s voice echoes in the shop and you can’t help but turn to him who’s just entered and looks as shocked as his father was earlier.

You have a soft smile on, and Mr. Min knows not to intervene.

“Oh, nothing,” he says, thinking that the new wood he acquired could wait. “Just watch over the counter for me while I check something inside, alright Son?”

He doesn’t let the younger man answer and just heads to the back, leaving you and Yoongi alone. He walks closer but keeps his distance. It’s enough for you to appreciate the softness of his face, though. His presence had always been reassuring; you see him twice and you’ve felt more comfort with him than you have in months. You don’t know how he does it, but that shouldn’t surprise you anymore. This isn’t the first time anyway.

“Is Taehyung alright?” He breaks the silence.

“Recovering, but more from his parents giving him shit for drinking too much,” you chuckle. “He got an earful and Mrs. Kim said she won’t let him in the house next time he gets that drunk. He’s doing chores as punishment.”

“Ah, well it’s been a while. It was nice to spend time with everyone again.”

“It was,” you smile now.

“And you? Are you okay?” He asks, sincerity laced in his low voice.

“Yeah, of course.”

It’s the hesitant nod and the way your eyes look at anything but him, and he knows that whatever happened after last night is something you want to forget or seek comfort for. So he asks.

“So what made you come here? To the shop, I mean.”

“I was driving around. It didn’t register to me right away that I was in the area,” you respond. “And this place was always so calming for me, you know? The smell of wood, your dad’s stories…”

You.

“So I thought I’d come in”, you continue. “He hasn’t changed. It’s nice to see him.”

Yoongi always wondered what parts of you remained the same and which parts didn’t.

Perhaps the playfulness tempered a bit. You seem a little more anxious than he remembers, too. There’s this sophistication about you that was always too good for this small town, and he sees that even more now. Your smile is still soft but it isn’t as bright. He won’t deny that it still makes his heart race, though.

You have a habit of going somewhere familiar to seek comfort. You always looked for it in places, he noticed - in that dingy convenience store near your school, in your town’s secondhand bookstore even if you don’t like reading, in the Opera House where you and your mom used to go to. Yoongi learns now that that hasn’t changed at all. You’re in his dad’s store, a place you always wanted to go to after spending time with your family, and he supposes that’s where you came from.

He doesn’t know if he’s still someone you find comfort in and he doesn’t know if you even want to spend time with him after all these years, but he doesn’t have the heart to just let you walk out of here not knowing if you’re truly okay.

He hated leaving you alone then when things weren’t good. You didn’t always want to talk but you said once that just hearing him breathing on the other end of the phone or just having his hand over yours made you feel better. He may not be the right person now but he’s still someone, and that’s always better than no one.

You eye the door, ready to leave, but his call of your name prompts you to look back at him.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” He asks.

“No, not really,” you reply.

“Would you like to grab some coffee?”

The words are familiar. You hate that you remember everything about it.

“Just coffee?” You ask, almost teasingly.

He chuckles softly and meets your eyes, and somehow a part of you thinks that you shouldn’t do this. But you’re glad he asked in the first place.

“Yes, ___. Just coffee.”

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notyour-valentine · 2 years

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Dragon's Blood II ~ Aemond Targaryen x Rhaenyras!daughter

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All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption. I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Summary: Once in King's Landing, she has a score to settle with Prince Aegon and Aemond has a toast to make( ~ 1x09)

Note: Loosely connected to this moonboard of mine. There will be a Part IV

Warning: sword fighting, mention of blood and injuries, smut, mention of war and death. Expect canon conforming tone and language. (18/21+)

Wordcount: 5539 words

Part I ~ Part II ~ Part III ~ Part IV

Part II

Previously

She did not share Jace’s or Luke’s memory from those bygone days and so she did not join them as they ran around the courtyard in excitement, retracing the sights of their old adventures.

Instead, her eyes were focussed on something else, or rather someone else. At least, until the sun darkened when his tall frame let shadow fall over her.

“Where’s Syraxes?”, he asked as he leaned against the wall beside her.

He smelled of sweat and leather, and a little bit of dragon. It was a scent she was all too familiar with.

“We came on ships.”, she explained, unable to hide her disapproval.

Her confession made his eyebrow rise.

“Preparing for your wifely duties?”, Aemond wanted to know.

That again, she thought as she fought the desire to roll her eyes.

“Daemon is still negotiating.”

“For which price to whore you out?”, he asked under his breath.

If he had meant it to sting, he shouldn’t have struck with a dulled blade.

“The fate of a Princess.”, she retorted. It was hardly anything new to her, nor was she oblivious to the duty her position required.

His hand found her waist as she tried to move away, holding her back.

“There is an armoury room,”, he mused, his lips coming dangerously close to her ear. “It’s deserted this time of day.”

She hummed softly before turning to meet his piercing gaze.

“I’m afraid, it will remain that way a little while longer.”

With that, she twisted out of his arm and reached for a practice sword, swishing it through the air to check the balance and weight.

“You want to spar?”, Aemond asked curiously, crossing his arms over his chest. "Here?"

“Oh indeed.”, she said with a smirk, taking a few steps back before turning her back to him, pointing her sword at someone else.

“Uncle!”, she called out to Aegon, who had only just arrived, offering her brightest smile.

“Would you do me the honour?”

Usually the laughter from the men at arms, the knights and squires would have set her blood to boil but now it only ever made her smirk.

The more, the merrier. After all, why put on a show if there was no one to watch?

“You?”, Aegon asked, laughing squires at his back.

“What are you doing?”, Aemond hissed.

She let him hold her practice blade as she reached into her pocket to fish out a ribbon to toe her hair back.

“Funny thing, Aemond.”, she told him, “one of your serving girls asked my mother’s maid if they have to fear Prince Jacaerys the same way they have to fear Prince Aegon.”

She turned to face him to be able to see his every reaction.

He gave her nothing. No confusion. No surprise.

So she knew all she had to know.

Tasting venom on her tongue, she nodded before taking the sword from him and facing Aegon with the sweetest of smiles.

He had been joking with his men, she knew, and strode towards her with nothing but confidence, looking her up and down.

“You want me to teach you about swordplay?”, he asked, “Well, who could say no to that? I am an expert in that regard."

More laughter rang out, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Jace flush with anger.

Don’t worry, she thought, we’ll be the ones laughing soon.

He took his own practice sword and positioned himself.

“The key,”, he began, explaining loudly, “is not to give away when you will strike.”

The emphasis he put on his hip as well as how low he held his sword made a mockery of the practice yard, earning roaring laughter from his men.

“Like this?”, she asked, leaping towards him.

He brought his blade up just in time to deflect her strike to his shoulder, but the unanticipated force sent him stumbling back.

This time, she let him catch his balance.

“You are a good teacher, Uncle.”, she mused as she stepped back, smiling. “Why don’t you attack? I hear you’re quite good at it.”

His lip twitched as he tried to strike.

She blocked it with ease, ducked away and struck the back of his leg, forcing him to take a knee.

Lucerys’ laughter rang out through the yard, cutting through the stunned silence.

She had her back turned to Aegon, but in the shiny armour of Ser Harrold she could see his every movement, and even the flashing anger in his eyes.

He ran at her, sword in hand, while Jace cried out to warn her. Now it was her that took a knee, making him strike air. Since he had passed her, it was all to easy for the flat of her blade to crack over his backside, making him crash to the floor.

Lucerys howled, while the rest of the courtyard was reduced to shocked gasps and murmurs.

Aegon scrambled back up again and charged. She jumped away and grabbed his arm, twisting it and pushing him away.

Even more enraged, he came at her again, she blocked, parried and struck, her sword cracking against his hip with such force the onlookers groaned in sympathetic suffering.

His face was as red as his backside promised to be as he charged at her again,, but an angry fighter was never a good one.

Three more strikes did she block while she made sure to strike his hips and thighs at any given chance. Which was every chance.

Aemond really hadn't lied when he told her he was a poor swordsman.

Another blow sent him to the ground again, as she, after a clinch, rammed her elbow into him and pushed him off with ease.

“Enough!”, a voice cut through the yard.

She saw Ser Criston Cole soldiering towards her, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back.

“I had thought you had a master at arms on Dragonstone, not a racketeer who never heard of honour to teach you the art of fighting!”, he snarled, his face mere inches from hers.

His grip tightened until he cut off her blood flow, but she only ever met his gaze.

“They teach fighting. In battle, there is little art to it. You ought to know that, Ser Criston.”

From the corner of her eye, she could see her brother’s bemused faces.

The knight looked down at her with nothing but blatant disgust.

“It is unseemly for a woman to spar!”, he snarled.

“I am not just a woman, Ser.”, she reminded him with the sweetest smile as she reached out to pluck a piece of dust from his beard. “I am a dragon. Those measly rules don’t apply to me.”

His fingers closed around her wrist as if her mere touch burned him and brought it down with such force, she feared he might break it.

“Oh they do, girl!”, he snarled through clenched teeth. “And I will make you will subject yourself to them!”

The disrespect made her laugh in shock.

“Ah you will make me?”, she hissed. “Would you like to try at where your Princeling had failed?”

“A woman has no place on the sparring yard.”, he snarled and pushed her away.

Oh I’ll show you your place.

She was twisting her wrist to free itself from the pain as she closed her fingers around the practice sword a second time.

Only this time another, gentler hand closed around hers.

“Don’t.”, Jacaerys whispered. “He’s not worth it.”

Lucerys ran at them with wide, sparkling eyes.

“You destroyed him!”, he insisted. “How did you know to do that?”

“Yes, how?”, Jace asked, suspicion in his eyes.

“Practice.”, she said, making a point of not searching for Aemond who had watched their every move.

“As much as I enjoyed that, now we will look like fools compared to you.”, Luke said with a sigh.

“Aegon won’t be able to pick up another sword today. I wonder if he will even be able to sit. And Aemond won’t spar you.”, she insisted. “Train with Ser Harrold.”

She sent them off with a slight shove and put her own practice sword down.

“Won’t I?”, mused a word from the shadows.

“No you won’t.”, she said sharply, earning an amused hum.

“Aemond, they are just boys.”

“Jacaerys is your elder.”, he reminded her.

“They can't match you with the blade.”, she said. "You know that."

"And you knew Aegon was no match for you and yet you sought to humiliate him in turn."

She huffed as she met his gaze, wondering if it was a hint of anger or a flash of pride she saw in it.

"He deserved it."

There was something soothing about watching the steam rise from the bathtub.

The maids had warned her that it might be too hot, but what was mere heat for a dragon like her?

Either her bath water had to be scalding or icy cold like the salty sea on the shores of Dragonstone.

And so she had asked the serving girls to keep preparing hot water. By the time they had carried it to her rooms to add to her bath in intervals to prevent a drop in heat.

So it was no surprise when she heard the door open and close again.

Only then, she didn’t hear any further steps and so she turned, water splashing as she moved.

Aemond was leaning against the door, a slight smirk on his lips as his gaze travelled from her surprised face to her chest.

Rolling her eyes she settled back down again, letting the water come up to her collarbone.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”, she remarked dryly.

“Well you are in my home.”, he argued.

She could hear his heels drop to the cold ground one by one as he made his way over to her.

“If they saw you, you’d cause a scandal.”, she sneered, but she knew he wouldn’t care about that, so she added a little extra just to rile him up. “What would your poor mother think? And your darling High Septon? Since you’ve practically turned this place into a sept, would fucking me here make it even more sinful than it already is?”

He hummed as he sat down on the edge of the tub, letting his hand trail through the water.

“No one saw me.”, he simply said, not giving her the anger she wanted. “There are a thousand secret passageways in the Red Keep.”

“Thank Aegon.”, she mused, and the hundreds of architects, workmen and builders whom he fed to Balerion once they were done.

She leaned forward and inhaled, smelling soap and clean clothes.

“You’ve already bathed.”, she remarked.

“Would you rather I come to you reeking of the sparring yard?”, he asked.

She didn’t respond directly, but he still smirked.

“You could have joined me. In warm water for once.”

Aemond hummed the way only he could hum, as he began to undo his buttons.

She bit her lip to keep herself from smiling.

Occupied with her own thoughts, she took her eyes off him (and because she didn’t want him getting too full of himself) and so was caught unaware when he grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled her forward until she crashed into his leg, but he only ever dragged her up further until her lips were inches from his.

It left her startled and breathless and she had to clutch his thigh for support as not to fall.

“I should cut it all off.”, he sneered almost angrily.

His breath was as hot on her lips as the steam of the water was, but she was focussed on the fire in his gaze.

“I’ll cut it off before I let some grubby Essosi fingers touch it.”

It made her laugh and although his grip still kept her head in place, she traced her fingers up the inside of his thigh.

“Do that,”, she warned him under her breath, “and I will cut something off that won’t grow back.”

He inhaled sharply as she began to stroke him through his trousers, knowing they were growing tighter by the second.

His grip on her hair loosened slightly and she moved down in the tub, resting her head against his knee while her hand kept moving up and down on the wrong side of his trousers.

“Besides,”, she mused, batting her eyelashes at him. “No one would miss it more than you.”

He'd pull it, clutch it, bury his face in it, wrap it around his hand and hold her close, only to then brush it out and braid it for her with more patience than she ever had.

With that, she moved away, leaning against the back of the tub feeling pleased at the sight of her handiwork.

Aemond inhaled sharply, as if weighing his options.

His pride or her body.

He gave her a glare as if she had insulted him and stood, but his hands moved to the laces of his trousers and she knew she had won.

Aemond had made her so late that her hair was still wet by the time they had dressed her, in a black gown bejewelled with rubies to match those decorating her hair.

She looked beautiful, yes, like a proper princess, or a prized cow, both at court and at dinner.

By now, King Viserys had become a stranger to her, but when he smiled at her, she smiled back. She loved him for her mother’s sake.

But nothing made her smile more than seeing Aegon’s limp.

Jace proved every bit the King he would one day become as he responded with nothing but courtesy, to them, and then when Aegon thought to bother Baela, a far better man when he asked Helaena to dance.

Aegon drank and drank, unable to lift his gaze, while Aemond watched them like a hawk.

“I know a place from where you’d get an even closer look at my brother.”, she teased, making him glare at her.

“Or are you too afraid we’ll embarrass you in this kind of spar too?”, she asked, nodding to Aegon.

Without another word, he got up, pushing his chair back with a screech as he grabbed her hand.

“If you want something,”, he hissed into her ear as they took their positions not far away from Jace and Helaena, “ask!”

But where would be the fun in that?, she thought.

The song they played, a four-step, which meant that it could be danced by two couples as well as one. It was Helaena that initiated it. They stood across from each other, moving to one side, then the other, a step forward, two steps back.

Then it was time for the men to release them as Helaena and her met in the centre, their palms touching as they circled around each other.

She was beaming from ear to ear, as her skirts swirled with their turn for the other direction.With that, they returned to their respective partners, stopping in front of them.

“She seems to enjoy herself.”, she told Aemond.

“She likes to dance.”, was the only reply she got as their hands touched in the space between them.

“So here we are.”, she mused as he spun her under his arm before dropping his hands to her waist and lifting her up at the same time Jace lifted Helaena. “Us two, the only spinsters.”

He glanced down at her.

“Until you are sold off.”, he snarled.

“For the high price of a fleet and prosperous trade. I can live with that.”, she insisted. Either she’d marry Jace, or she’d be married off for the security of Jace’s kingdom.

“Dragons are worth more than ships.”, he reminded her as they swayed from side to side again.

“But worth more than peace?”, she asked, so close she could smell him, his rough, calloused hand holding her own and his lips - Suddenly her throat felt thick and she glanced down. “Let’s not talk of things we cannot change.”

“You’re not married yet.”, he reminded her as his hands went to her waist once more.

“Do you plan on stealing me away?”, she asked just as she took her place at his side, ready to approach Jace and Helaena once more.

“Can’t steal something that already belongs to you.”, he argued, not minding that they were so close both of their siblings could hear.

Her answer had to wait until they stepped back once more.

“I don’t belong to you. Or anyone, but if it were up to me-”

“Uncle!”

Lucerys voice cut through the music as he stood, his eyes locked on Aemond.

“They’ve brought something for you.”

She followed his pointed finger to the tray that had just been brought in and her heart sank.

“Aemond!”, she hissed under her breath but he left her standing as he strode towards the desk.

His eyes meeting Luke’s, he seemed to consider for a moment, before taking his goblet in his hand, but when he spoke up, his voice was calm.

Yet she knew better than to trust it.

“A final tribute-”, he said, his gaze locked on Luke. “To my nephews.”

The music stopped completely to let him speak, as he made sure to look at each in turn.”

“Jace, Luke and Joffrey - each of them handsome, wise…”

He lingered, as they all held their breaths, as if he savoured the taste.

“Strong.”

“Aemond!”, his mother hissed, but she inhaled sharply, feeling her hands clench into fists but he ignored them both.

“Let us drain our cups,”, he announced loudly, “to these three Strong boys!”

Aegon was only too eager to lift his, but her head snapped around as she heard Jace’s voice crack like a whip.

“I dare you to say that again!”, he demanded, squaring up to Aemond without a trace of fear or intimidation in his eyes.

“Why? Twas only a compliment!”, the taller man insisted with a smirk.

How she wanted to strike it right off his face.

“Do you not consider yourself Strong?”

Jace beat her too it, his fist colliding with his jaw and snapping his head around. She was already halfway there when out of the corner of her eye she saw Aegon grab Luke by the back of the neck and slam his face into the table.

In the blink of an eye, she felt a fistful of his icy blond hair in her grasp and tore him away, spinning him around and burying her knee in his stomach.

“Pick on someone your own size!”, she snarled at him as he groaned in pain, more than happy to continue what she had begun in the sparring yard.

“Enough!”, she heard someone cry as she saw Jace fall back, Aemond towering over him, his goblet still in hand.

His mother grabbed his sleeve.

“Why would you say that? In front of these people?”, she insisted.

In front of me.

She missed the first part of his response as Daemon grabbed her by the back of the dress like a cat picking up an unruly kitten, pulling her before the guards could.

He pushed her away from Aegon without much effort, shoving her in the space between Luce and Jace.

“Although my nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs!”, Aemond finished, making Jace’s cheeks flush in anger as he was ready to lunge at him once more.

“Ah!”, Daemon said, his finger raised, stopping him before he could reach Aemong.

He was first staring at Jace, then her, and finally Luke.

They understood but he made sure, staring them down until they had all taken a step back, his finger still raised before he turned.

“Go to your quarters!”, her mother ordered, “all of you! Now.”

She looked to Jace, who only began to turn when Rhaena, holding Baela’s arm in one hand and Joff’s hand in the other.

Her still waited at the door, seeing first the girls and Joff out, the Luke, who glared over his shoulder and finally her.

She could feel his silent rage, burning to match her own.

They shared that, the anger, the desire to fight, to fight him if need be.

But he did not share her betrayal.

There were yet marks on her body he had made, the grip on her hips, the mark of his kisses. And now the sweet sting of passion felt like bite marks from a venomous snake and it was from them, that she could feel the poison seeping into her with every step.

It made her want to scream, to claw at them, to cut every memory from him out of her mind and body, to burn it away with Syraxes’ fire or to drown it in the Narrow Sea.

Fire, blood and the salty water would wash her clean of him.

And yet her anger was drowned in her pain, in the piercing ache she felt in her chest with every breath she took.

Jace's hand found the small of her back as he inhaled sharply.

"And to think Mother was considering to give you to him.", he whispered, his voice so low only she could hear.

Jace, Luke and her had received a scolding from their mother until their ears rang.

Today of all days.

It was to make peace. Why did you have to fight?

But it was disappointment more than anger.

They should have stood above it, their ambivalence would have made him look the fool and now they had given him just what he wanted.

If only her mother knew the truth of the words she had spoken.

In her mind, they were both toying with each other in equal measure, but what if she had been dancing to his tune along? What if she was lost on this path he had led her on?

You gave him just what he wanted.

She had done so, over and over again. Here, on Dragonstone, on their little island.

So her defeat was a heavier to carry as she made her way back to her bedroom, sending away the serving girls and staring into the darkness of the room, illuminated only by a crackling fire.

The girls hadn’t gotten to lighting the candles yet.

For how long she just stood there, she did not know, but she spun as soon as she sensed movement from the darkness, pulling out the dagger that was hidden in her sleeve.

“You can put the blade away.”, said the last voice she wanted to hear. “It’s only me.”

“Only reason to keep it drawn!”, she snarled. “Get out!”

He stepped out from the darkness, his hands at his sides and said her name as if he hoped it were a spell he could enchant her with.

“I said get out!”

“I know you’re angry-”

She grabbed one of those idiotic seven pointed candle sticks and flung it at him with full force, candle and all.

He ducked and it crashed to the floor behind him and Aemond turned to see whether it had shattered or not.

So he barely saw the second candlestick coming in time.

Cursing under his breath, he crossed the distance between them and grabbed her wrist before she could hurl a third in his direction.

Pushing her up against the wall, he twisted both candle and knife from her hands, kicking them away, as he said her name once more.

“Get out!”, she snarled, trying to kick him, but he stood so close she couldn’t gather momentum.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

She turned her head away until her cheek was pressed to the cold stone to be away from him.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”, he admitted, taking a step back.

She almost laughed at him.

“You knew exactly what you were doing!”, she snapped, using her newly reached freedom of movement to slap him.

He let her.

But once his head was facing her again, he seemed unmoved.

“Lucerys -”

“Lucerys is a boy!”, she snapped, not letting him finish. “It has been years, Aemond. Let it go!”

He always had such a keen memory when it came to that joke, except the fact that it had been his own brother who had had the idea.

Aemond scoffed and shook his head.

“You always take his side.”, he spat as if stating a crime she had committed.

“Of course I do. He is my brother. My little brother!”

She could see his jaw muscles working in silent rage and shook her head in disbelief.

How could he ask for loyalty now? After what he had done? After Aegon had attacked him? A man twice his size?

“One minute you wish to steal me away from marriage, the next you call me a bastard-”

His hand grabbed her arm, stopping her pacing.

“I didn’t call anyone anything!”, he reminded her, as if a technicality would absolve him.

She faced him headon, glaring at him with nothing but rage and disgust in her eyes and her voice trembled with suppressed anger.

“If they are bastards,”, she hissed through clenched teeth, “So am I.”

Aemond swallowed hard as he weighed his words. Still, he refused to relent.

“You are not a thief.”, he argued.

“A thief?”, she demanded to know, his words only ever stoking her rage. “And pray tell, how are Jacaerys and Lucerys thieves? They are my mother’s sons!”

“They aren’t trueborn!”, Aemond argued. “You know it too, I know you do!”

She had bit back a chuckle while he had acted so prim and proper at the dinner, praying, but it wasn’t funny anymore.

Someone must’ve had a better aim with those stupid seven-pointed star candleholders than I did.

“They won’t inherit the Iron Throne because of Laenor Velaryon.”, she reminded him. “They inherit it because of my mother. Your future Queen!”

Aemond chuckled, shaking his head and making her want to strike him.

Mocking her brothers and now insulting her mother?

She felt like she would explode with rage, when she heard the door handle click.

Giving Aemond a shove, half in the hope that he would fall, hit his head or break his arm, she rushed towards the door before it could fully open.

She imagined the guards, some servants, her mother, Daemon or Jace - but it was neither and so she fell to her knees.

“Aegon!”, she gasped, all traces of anger disappearing as she saw the tears on his cheeks.

“Sweetling, what’s wrong?”

He was in his nightclothes, clutching the blanket in his hand.

Instead of responding, he buried his face in her lap and sobbed.

“Oh my love!”, she whispered as she reached for him and lifted him up, her hand on the back of his head as she began to walk back and forth with him in her arms, as his tears began to soak her dress.

With one glance, she made sure that Aemond was hidden from view, before sitting down on the edge of her bed and placing him in her lap.

He only ever let go of her reluctantly and she began to wipe his tears away as his fingers grabbed her dress for good measure.

“What happened?”, she asked.

His lip began to tremble.

“I couldn’t find anyone.”, he whimpered, unable to meet her eyes. “You were all gone! All of you!”

With that, he flung himself at her again, his head hitting her chest at full force.

“Sweetling, we were at the feast. You know that.”

“You were gone!”, he insisted. “I was looking for you and you were gone. You were all gone and you left me alone!”

She held him until his sobs had turned to hiccups and whimpers before trying to meet his eyes again.

“Come now, Aegon!”, she asked softly, “look at me now.”

He tried to avoid her eyes and so she lifted him off her lap and crouched down in front of him, looking up at his violent eyes as she cupped his face.

“It’s alright.”, she assured him, her thumb stroking over his damp face.

“It’s not.”, he argued. “I want to go home.”

“We’re going home!”, she promised. “

“Now?”

There was such hope in his voice, it hurt her to shatter it.

“Not now, no. But tomorrow. Just one more sleep.”

He sniffled before laying down on the blanket.

“Can I stay with you?”

She smiled softly as she ran her hand over his hair. So soft. So pale.

“You can’t.”, she said softly. “I’ll take you back to your nursery.”

“I don’t like it there! The walls…they are wrong. They’re scary.”, he confessed.

For a moment she considered, but then she lifted him up in her arms.

“I know, Aegon.”, she promised. “And that’s alright. Everyone is scared sometimes.”

“Everyone?”

She nodded.

“But you can be brave too, can’t you? My little dragon.”

That made his lip twitch into the hint of a smile.

“And besides, you’ve got Viserys with you. Even you are a bit scared, you two can be brave together.”

She leaned her forehead against his.

“I promise.”

“I’ll be braver with you!”, Aegon argued, his hand clinging to her dress once more.

She kissed the top of his head as she opened the door once more, carrying him back to the nursery.

It was nearly half an hour before he was settled, only falling asleep after she had sung him a Valyrian hymn, and she returned to her chambers.

Aemond was sitting just where she had placed Aegon to sooth him.

“You’re good with him.”, he said softly.

“He is my little brother.”, she said, too exhausted to fight.

Nothing was as draining as watching her little brother’s sorrow.

“Yes, I know.”, he said defeat in his voice.

He stretched out his hand and lifted his eyes, both violet and blue, in a silent plea as he stretched out his hand.

“I’m sorry.”, he said.

She hesitated for three heartbeats before swallowing hard and crossing the room.

Leaving his hand where it hung, she stopped to stand right between his legs and cupped his face, letting her thumb brush over the scar on his cheek.

“Do you want to hear the truth, Aemond?”, she asked, though why she did not know.

Perhaps the hour was too late or too early, perhaps Aegon’s tears had softened her resolve, perhaps the blow he had dealt her at dinner made her bleed out to the point of delusion.

Perhaps she was just too tired or perhaps this game they played had gotten too complicated for her.

Perhaps she was ready to end it, even if it meant losing.

He looked almost frightened.

“If there is a choice, or even the hope of a choice, I would always choose you.”, she confessed, letting her thumb trace down to his lips.

Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena would hate her for saying that, and she could only guess what her mother and Daemon would think.

His hand found her waist as he leaned his head against her chest, holding her tight.

She allowed him, and let her hand find the back of his head as it had found Aegon’s earlier, stroking over it.

It would have been easy to stay like that, to hold him and let him hold her, to melt into his arms, his embrace, his body, to have his lips coax away the pain they had dealt her earlier.

No, she reminded herself, not just her, but Jace and Luke and Joff, and her mother too.

“But when it comes to my brothers, there is no choice.”

End

Part III

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear what you think!

Tagging a few people who I think might be interested in the sequel:

@sanzyfavbitch @luthientinu @unnamedm @janelongxox @crazylokonugget @sarcasticsweetlara @anditsmywholeheart @tinydramatist @sleepy0nez @words-way-of-life @redpool @c-chann

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cod-z · 1 month

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[NSFW 18+] Stupid Colonel (Anon Reveal)

Your media consumption isn't my responsibility | TW: NSFW 18+, Gay Sex

Pairing(s): Alejandro Vargas x Rodolfo 'Rudy' Parra

| One-shots | A/N: My anon reveal and brain-rot. For those who knows said story, yes, I am THAT anon from said blog

Once the doors closed Rudy walked off, Ale still waving till he saw his friend was missing by his side, his eyes catching Rudy heading towards their shared bedroom, quickly he pursued.

Standing at the doorway, he saw that Rudy had sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, troubled by something, though he knew what troubled the man.

Ale's hand automatically places itself onto Rudy's back, rubbing it slowly as he tries to comfort him. Sure that two close calls were... intense but it was handled.

"Mi amigo estoy bien," is all Ale could say to Rudy. "Cómo puedo ayudar?"

Rudy's breath hitched, Ale's words... it didn't ease the fire that burned with him. The memories still fresh but it made that flame inside him roar, the fear, the anger, the worry that he felt for his 'friend' had something fierce gripping onto him. He needed to relinquish it. His eyes trailing to the man that he yearned for, his heart rapidly pacing against his chest, that desire to submit but at the same time, take control of... something.

"Tumbado en la cama."

Ale didn't expect this to happen, he didn't expect the man he love all his life to top him, and fuck did it make his cock weep. His body being appreciated at the beginning, torture as Rudy caress his skin so delicately as if he was made out of the fragilest material on Earth. To be later folded in half as Rudy mercilessly snaps his forwards against his has, his cock buried to the hilt making him make unholy noises that echoed around their room.

Rudy's body presses against Ale's, leaning towards his ear. "Estúpido idiota, estúpido. Tiene que tener más cuidado, Coronel."

"Me tenía tan preocupado," his groan nearly comes out as a whimper as he releases all the emotions he felt during those moments. During all those times his Colonel made stupid decisions for the cause, still admiring his bravery but cursing at the stupidity he put himself in, his hips slamming down harder at the thought that he couldn't stop him, doesn't want to stop Ale.

"Hacemos esto juntos amigo, te lo meteré en la cabeza."

oop-

#cod z #los vaqueros #rudy parra #rudy cod #alejandro #cod fanfic #cod #call of duty fanfiction #rudy x alejandro #alejandro x rodolfo #alejandro vargas #alejandro cod #rodolfo parra #rodolfo cod #rodolfo x alejandro

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normalonline · 1 month

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All too just like me

Here go I to die and you to live, which is better? Only God knows. What do I believe in? Creation. Recently I've spent much time asking myself why God created the world. Answers range from pure nihilism to egomaniacal. He created the world so that I might be here and I enjoy life ergo it was good. It was good because by definition the wielder of that power can create good. He did it because he could, because he was bored, because when the power exists to create one does. As we so often do. When it is in our power to improve or to reach out to the stars we do this. Our reason for landing on the Moon carries the same human spirit as procreation. To create is to further the pursuit of mass, of taking up space and being known. To send up a flare on a desert island in the hope of something more. To exist here in a different moment through the particles of ink of a page or perhaps even the stone of a statue or the small chemicals that run through a persons brain that remember you. To die is to uncreate. Conversely this is the only way in which we can meet our maker. To know why we're here. Do we create for the same reason as Him? Man made in the image of God must after all be endowed with His wills just as a child might be possessed by the same impulses of their parents. What then of our weaknesses? Are these purely a result of powerlessness? It is implicit in the word one could guess. Our God is not in the image an animal or some ethereal celestial form.

What is the fantasy of artificial intelligence? In movies and tv it is a robot that looks as we do. That through some fault or mistake of programming becomes far too human. That it might imbue itself with our lower tendencies. I've always scoffed at the idea that a robot need look human but I realize now the nature behind this prediction. God didn't make animals in his image because an animal doesn't look upon the world with knowing eyes. It is ecstasy through which it sees, desire and satisfaction. Some of these scientists and intellectuals you might hear will "inform" you that our wishes are simply an extrapolation of biological necessity, this is false. A true artificial intelligence could look upon us and know its own creator. While fully unable to alter this. Mans departure from the intended state was the consumption of knowledge. What knowledge could this have been? Was Adam before this but an ensouled animal? Clearly not. This angered God because it made man all too Godlike. Our fear of a Matrix-style world of robot domination is the same disgust God felt at the initial defiance. Humans with the power of creation and knowledge. This is the essence of God. That a creation could resent its creator but still be completely powerless against it. This is the dream of a robot appearing human in form. A creation that could act but with a helpless knowledge that it's own will would pale in comparison to the force of its creator. Perhaps this is the state of things, that creation is a slope downwards into nothingness. To realize we are in our world the greatest there will ever be. This is no vice but the highest virtue. This is the end of death and the triumph of creation.

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wallacejwriting · 4 months

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Fundamental Magical Essences (aka all the ingredients in spellcasting):

Lumen: light, fire, growth, breath, purification. Dragon fire is made of lumen.

Tenebrae: shadow, destruction, entropy, darkness, consumption.

Vis: magic, creation, the spark of ingenuity. -> Contains 9 sub-essences: Thorn, Wild, Craft, Hedge, Tinker, Scribe, Heart, Dust, Veil (the 9 witch houses).

Anima: life, animation, motion, invigoration. Used primarily in magibots & healing.

Cognita: knowledge, understanding, curiosity. Used in magibots and complex spellcraft.

Sensum: emotion, connection, feeling. -> Contains 9 sub-essences: Fear, Anger, Disgust, Compassion, Hope, Sorrow, Joy, Courage, Desire (the 9 primary emotions).

Tempus: time, and the passage thereof, progress.

Malum: pain, anguish, suffering, torment. Gathers in people who are ill or in pain and must be removed for healing to be effective. Used in combat spells.

Elementus: the physical elements of the world. -> Contains 9 sub-essences: Fire, Water, Wood, Stone, Wind, Ice, Thunder, Gravity, Disease (the 9 primary elements).

Through a combination of the essences above, all spellcraft is possible. Witches tend to stockpile the ones they need in crystals, jewellery, themselves, or their taelismera, and use them as required. Witches can draw essences out of themselves, as well, but overdraw can be dangerous, and humans can only naturally create Anima, Cognita, Sensum, and Malum. Humans can draw Vis, but it comes from the world around them.

The system is Vis centric, so most spells require Vis, or mostly Vis, and the rest are found in more specialized spells, like combat casting or magibot creation.

#starkyda #worldbuilding #writeblr #amwriting #am writing

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radical-revolution · 1 year

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All you need

is less

drama

conflict

anger

guilt

worry

blame

fear

desire

judgment

expectation

obsession

anxiety

clutter

complexity

distraction

reaction

consumption

technology

greed

wealth

status

pride

hatred..

And more

honesty

connection

creativity

community

integrity

laughter

wisdom

understanding

balance

kindness

generosity

courage

mindfulness

patience

simplicity

serenity

openness

gratefulness

peace

and

love..

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nobuverse · 9 months

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@miraruinada ( Plotted )

Loyalty. That was the principle she was raised under. The part of the shinsengumi she took the most seriously. To serve all orders absolutely and without question.

It something that induced comfort rather than fear in her; as Okita was not one who liked to get lost in complex moral conflicts. At all times, she'd developed the habit of avoiding the process of making her own decisions altogether; lost with her childhood self. To be trapped in her own mind, unable to speak of the horrors she'd witnessed for fear of shaming her murdered father, had been too terrible a fate to endure. So instead, she had emptied it. Her goals were never again her own, her own desires ignored.

This part of her - the ability to follow a leader so unconditionally - was unsurprisingly brought with her as a servant. She would never betray her master. Lay down her life to protect them. Such was the way of the noble samurai.

Even if she was summoned outside of a grail war - she would serve. Even if he had no intention of letting her enter the battlefield she had made her home in, she would listen. Even if he commanded her to never leave this laboratory, full of men and women with soulless eyes, she would obey. The fairly nervous man seemed ready to use the first of his command seals when someone asks her to stay still for the first time. She barely flinches, however. Though the feeling of the needles and electric wires is far from pleasant.

But it it's fine- she tells herself. She's been through worse. Nothing can be as bad as the last year of her life, when consumption had taken every nerve and joint in her body hostage. Leaving her in crippling agony, taking her ability to move bit by bit.

Never once did the thought of betrayal cross her mind. Even when it started to become obvious her presence here was for nothing more than the advancement of science's marriage with magecraft and heroic spirits.

I must endure it if it's what my master wishes.

She doesn't ask questions, even if she has some vague idea of what's happening. Instead, she keeps that though running her head as her mantra, as her mana circuits are fried and reconstructed, again, again ...and again.

Now, her will is as strong as that of any other Wolf of Mibu - but weeks into it, it starts to become too much for her to want to endure. Maybe it's these white, empty walls that are driving her mad, the pain wracking her body, or her solidarity with her own thoughts but she begins to have her own selfish thoughts.

I don't want to be here.

It's not a thought consumed by anger, an emotion she was occasionally privy to in the past, but rather a painful longing she's not familiar with.

I want this to stop.

But the thought of turning against them - it's not in her capacity to think of such things. So she endures. She lives and continues to endure it.

Time starts to blur in on itself - and Okita attempts to continue and empty her thoughts to rid herself of the knots growing in her stomach at the start of every new day. ( Was this what fear felt like? She'd not felt it in so long ). She almost forgets who and what she is - so when her duties as a servant are requested, she can barely remember how to hold her sword.

( Defend us. Kill the outsider. )

It feels strange to be on her own two feet - to move forward of her own free will. She does so slowly, despite their protests, her arms and legs filled with too many scorches and pinpricks to care about the shove she gets.

She doesn't give acknowledgement to the servant as she steps outside, eyes instead focused far away over his shoulder.

"I don't think I've ever noticed how beautiful the sun is before now..."

#small little detail but consumption is another older term for Tuberculosis if you didnt know #and yes it can both attack your joints and paralyze you which i did not know until yesterday tbh #yeah gonna be honest just distracting myself with that one bc im gonna be honest #i did not think it was possible for me to write her this thoroughly broken #but hey i said you were gonna get a novel and i delivered i hope everything in this works out??? let me know !#miraruinada #cherry blossom saber [ okita ]#servant manifestations [ threads ]#v; undetermined #long reply //#ask to tag //

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araekniarchive · 2 years

Note

hi, emily! do you have a list of all the tags you use to categorise your posts?

Right, so. I theoretically have a google doc with all of these on, but honestly, I'm kind of rubbish at updating it and I'm not entirely I’ve got them all on there anymore. So I did the super normal and chill thing and went to the mega-editor, looked at my blog's source code, found the record of all the tags I've ever used on this blog, and then Ctrl+F searched for 'theme'.

Suffice to say, I now have a pretty comprehensive list of all my theme tags, which I will put below the cut, because there's... quite a few.

Now, going through you might be thinking ‘that’s odd, why do you have multiple tags for the same thing’, and the answer is that I’m a very disorganised person, and despite my best intentions I have carried this over into my theme categories. I’ve had this blog for over a year now (which, what the fuck) and that’s long enough for my tiny brain to forget I already had a tag for something and make a new one a couple times over. Along those same lines, there some webs or quotes I probably should’ve tagged as one thing and didn’t (likely because I forgot I had that theme already), and while I’ll try and go back and correct that where possible, it might be worth checking in multiple theme tags just in case, as if you can’t find something in ‘monsters’ it might well be in ‘monstrosity’, and vice versa.

A HOLE IN THE WORLD [LINK]

ABRAHAM AND ISAAC [LINK]

ABSENCE [LINK]

ABSTRACT [LINK]

ADDICTION [LINK]

ADULTHOOD [LINK]

AGE [LINK]

ANGER [LINK]

ANGUISH [LINK]

ANIMALS [LINK]

APATHY [LINK]

APOCALYPSE [LINK]

ART [LINK]

BEAUTY [LINK]

BEGIN AGAIN [LINK]

BEGINNING [LINK]

BETRAYAL [LINK]

BLOOD [LINK]

CAIN AND ABEL [LINK]

CHANGE [LINK]

CHILDHOOD [LINK]

CHILDREN [LINK]

CHOICE [LINK]

CLEAN [LINK]

COLOUR [LINK]

COME BACK [LINK]

CONFESSION [LINK]

CONNECTION [LINK]

CONSUMPTION [LINK]

CONTRADICTION [LINK]

CORRUPTION [LINK]

CREATION [LINK]

DARK [LINK]

DAUGHTERS [LINK]

DEATH [LINK]

DEPENDENCE [LINK]

DESIRE [LINK]

DISAPPOINTMENT [LINK]

DISCONNECTION [LINK]

DISCRIMINATION [LINK]

DISEASE [LINK]

DISTANCE [LINK]

DREAMS [LINK]

DYSFUNCTION [LINK]

EDEN [LINK]

EGO [LINK]

ENDING [LINK]

ESCAPE [LINK]

EYES [LINK]

FABLE [LINK]

FAILURE [LINK]

FAMILY [LINK]

FATHERS [LINK]

FEAR [LINK]

FERAL [LINK]

FIRE [LINK]

FLIGHT [LINK]

FLORA AND FAUNA [LINK]

FLOWERS [LINK]

FOOD [LINK]

FORGIVENESS [LINK]

FREEDOM [LINK]

FRIENDSHIP [LINK]

FRUIT [LINK]

GENDER [LINK]

GHOSTS [LINK]

GO AWAY CLOSER [LINK]

GRIEF [LINK]

GROWING UP [LINK]

GROWTH [LINK]

GUILT [LINK]

HANDS [LINK]

HAPPINESS [LINK]

HATE THAT I LOVE YOU [LINK]

HATRED [LINK]

HAUNTING [LINK]

HEAT [LINK]

HIDING ALL AWAY [LINK]

HISTORY [LINK]

HOME [LINK]

HOPE [LINK]

HUMANITY [LINK]

HUNGER [LINK]

HUNGRY BUT NOT FOR FOOD [LINK]

I DON'T KNOW WHERE TO PUT IT [LINK]

I HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO LIVE WITH THIS [LINK]

I KNOW YOU [LINK]

I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME [LINK]

I WILL SEE YOUR BODY BARE [LINK]

I'LL TRY AGAIN. LET ME TRY AGAIN [LINK]

ICARUS [LINK]

IMPERMANENCE [LINK]

INEVITABILITY [LINK]

JUDAS [LINK]

KINDNESS [LINK]

LAIKA [LINK]

LANGUAGE [LINK]

LEFT BEHIND [LINK]

LETTING GO [LINK]

LGBT [LINK]

LIGHT [LINK]

LINGUISTICS [LINK]

LONELINESS [LINK]

LOOK AT ME [LINK]

LOSS [LINK]

LOVE [LINK]

MADNESS [LINK]

MAN HANDS MISERY ONTO MAN [LINK]

MEMORY [LINK]

MENTAL ILLNESS [LINK]

MONSTERS [LINK]

MONSTROSITY [LINK]

MONTHS [LINK]

MORALITY [LINK]

MUSIC [LINK]

NAMING [LINK]

NATURE [LINK]

NIGHT [LINK]

NOSTALGIA [LINK]

OBJECTIFICATION [LINK]

OF COURSE WE WILL HURT EACH OTHER [LINK]

ONCE UPON A TIME [LINK]

OPHELIA [LINK]

OTHERNESS [LINK]

PARENTS [LINK]

PEACE [LINK]

PERSEVERANCE [LINK]

PINING [LINK]

POISON [LINK]

POLITICS [LINK]

PRETENSE [LINK]

QUESTIONING [LINK]

REBELLION [LINK]

REBIRTH [LINK]

RECOVERY [LINK]

REFLECTION [LINK]

REFUSAL [LINK]

REJECTION [LINK]

RELAPSE [LINK]

RELIGION [LINK]

RENEWAL [LINK]

REPETITION [LINK]

REVENGE [LINK]

ROMEO AND JULIET [LINK]

SACRIFICE [LINK]

SADNESS [LINK]

SAMSON AND DELILAH [LINK]

SCARS [LINK]

SEASONS [LINK]

SELF DISCOVERY [LINK]

SHAME [LINK]

SIBLINGS [LINK]

SICKNESS [LINK]

SISTERS [LINK]

SLEEP [LINK]

SONS [LINK]

STAY WITH ME [LINK]

SUBJECTIVITY [LINK]

SURREALISM [LINK]

TEETH [LINK]

THE BODY [LINK]

THE GREAT WOUND [LINK]

THE HEART [LINK]

THE HERO OF THE STORY [LINK]

THE MOON [LINK]

THE PAST IS A FOREIGN COUNTRY [LINK]

THE SUN [LINK]

THE WRITTEN WORD [LINK]

THEFT [LINK]

THEOLOGY [LINK]

THIS I CHOOSE TO DO [LINK]

THIS IS ME TRYING [LINK]

TIME [LINK]

TOUCH [LINK]

TRAGEDY [LINK]

TRAVEL [LINK]

TRUST [LINK]

TRUTH [LINK]

UNMAKING [LINK]

VIOLENCE [LINK]

VULNERABILITY [LINK]

WAIT FOR ME; I'M COMING [LINK]

WANTING TO BE WANTED [LINK]

WAR [LINK]

WATER [LINK]

WEATHER [LINK]

WEREWOLVES [LINK]

WHEN WORDS ARE NOT ENOUGH [LINK]

WHEREVER I GO THERE I AM [LINK]

WOMANHOOD [LINK]

YEARNING [LINK]

YOU KNEW WHAT I WAS WHEN YOU PICKED ME UP [LINK]

#asks and answers #housekeeping #navigation #or my best attempt at it #please let me know if i've fucked up the tag links

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jotatetsuken · 2 years

Text

everybody falls in love somehow

submission for: mailcarrier may server collab organized by @burnthoneymint @leydileyla and @scandalous-chaos (y'all should check out the works here for sureeee <33)

features: steve rogers x f! reader

type of writing: oneshot

trope: mail carrier au, strangers to lovers but with major angst

synopsis: when steve rogers didn’t feel that he did enough when it came to connecting with people that he swore to protect, he decided to be a mailman and interact with people to forge connections, until an interaction with a certain someone (you), changes him.

warnings: reader’s husband’s passed away, so has peggy carter, so angst (coping with grief), mentions of alcohol consumption (in one line), anger, fear of commitment, visitation of grave, character deaths, overall fluffy, not proofread I guess, lol, setting is after the 2012 avengers movie and before the winter soldier movie, a popular superhero makes a cameo appearance hehe

song: this playlist, especially everybody loves somebody - dean martin

number of words: 2.1k

(taglist form / library account, turn on notifications to be updated)

a/n: tbh, i didn't know if i was going to get this done on time haha, but i did. i know not many people think high of steve rogers, but i love him. so when @leydileyla suggested to write postman angst, this brainchild came into my head, and while i’d thought of doing an entirely new story with him, but this story just flew haha, and i hope y'all like this <33 likes, comments and reblogs, especially reblogs are appreciated. also, yes, my crush on steve rogers is back and HOW!!

Cold. That’s how Steve Rogers first felt after being frozen in the Arctic for nearly seventy years and then revived in the 21st century. Worthless. That’s how he felt when he was trying to come to terms with the world that moved on without him. Broken. That’s how his heart felt for a moment when he learned that Peggy Carter, the love of his life, had passed away in her sleep. Dejected, that’s how he felt when he couldn’t save his best friend, Bucky Barnes.

However, after he, along with the rest of the Avengers, defended and protected New York City from the invasion of the Chitauri, he still felt hopeful in a certain way. He felt relieved that people would now remember him differently, in a good way. Nevertheless, he felt that that wasn’t enough. He felt a strong urge to be in touch with the generation in front of him, that was deeply engrossed in new inventions, newer mentalities, and newer environments. He felt the need to practically reach out to the people of modern America and connect with them.

He calls Nick Fury, the man who brought them all together, and says, "Hey, I am retiring temporarily from superhero action. Following the events of the last few months, I need time to rest and recover.”

Fury nodded, replying, “I understand. You should take some time off for yourself. However, we’ll need you. So, come back soon.”

Having then hopped on his Harley-Davidson, a 1942 WLA “Liberator,” he donned his sunglasses and drove to Washington, DC. As soon as he arrived, he shook hands with the manager of the United States Postal Service (USPS). In the office, Steve expressed his desire to work as a mailman, and the manager was astonished.

“What for, Mr. Rogers?” the manager cried. “You are a hero to many of us. You shouldn’t be involved in a blue-collar job like this.”

Steve shook his head, and stated plainly, “ I understand that. However, saving the world isn’t enough for me. I want to connect with them, make children smile, help families reconcile, and I want to move around and be in touch with what the world looks like today.”

As he leaned towards the table, he continued, “Look, when I can protect America as a superhero, I can most certainly strive to connect with Americans that I’d sworn to protect by delivering mail.”

The very next day, in New York City, he completed his orientation program and wore a powder blue half sleeve shirt with the logo, dark blue trousers, and a black leather jacket. He painted the motorcycle in the country's colors and attached a box for carrying letters, money orders, and small packages. Over the next couple of weeks, he started going house to house, door to door, delivering mail, and this caught everyone off-guard.

He was glad that he could still draw well, so he used that to his advantage by drawing portraits of children with their pets, toys, and parents. This helped people feel more connected to him and his work and image as a superhero. Kids took pictures with him, parents thanked him, many were jealous of him, and many fawned over him. Well, except for you. You were looking at him from afar with ragged breath as your contempt for the Avengers, especially him, surfaced again.

One day, he’d walked over to your house to deliver mail, and he knocked on the door.

“I’m coming,” you cried out as your scuttling footsteps approached the door. When you opened the door with a smile, only for Steven to smile back, he was then met with a frown and a closed door. You then closed your ears with your hands, shrieking.

“Are you okay?” He inquired politely, continuing to knock on the door as he was curious about what had just happened. Is this Mr. (L/N)'s house? I've got mail for him.”

Suddenly, you felt the world turn red around you, as you screamed, “Yes, but he is no longer living here, and will never live forever because of you, so, please, leave!”

Perplexed, he walks out of the house and calls Tony Stark for help. He earned a deep sigh from Tony, who answered, saying, “What do you need, Capsicle?” Rolling his eyes, Steve inquired, “Listen, I need your help, specifically JARVIS’.”

Tony shook his head in surprise, rolled his eyes, and questioned, “What, why? I’m pretty helpful too, thank you very much.”

After Steve chuckled and explained everything, Tony replied, “So you basically want me to be your wingman.”

Scoffing, Tony continued, “Not interested.”

This causes Steve to take deep breaths and respond, “Look, Tony. I need help, okay? She seems to have a problem with me, and I want to know what happened that led to her harboring resentment against us.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony replied, “Fine. I’ll call you in a couple of minutes, old man.”

After a few minutes, Tony called Steve and said, "Oldie, this does not look good. The woman's name is (Y/N) (L/N). Remember how many buildings were near Stark Tower when Chitauri invaded the Earth? Her husband held a white-collar job around that time, and one of the enemies caused his death, and we fought those who came toward us, failing to save him. I can actually understand why she's upset.”

An hour later, Steve, racked with guilt, hung up the phone and slipped an envelope through the tear in your door. You opened the envelope to find a sketch of you and your husband, along with a letter in which Steve mentioned: “So, I just found out why you were angry with me. My heart breaks at the loss of your husband, and I wish I could have saved him. As a gesture of apology, I drew a sketch of you and your husband. In return, I would like to be able to provide you with closure if you could allow me to open the door.”

When you opened the door, puffy-eyed, you saw that Steve had gloves on his hands and gave you a small box. When you opened the box, you found a locket inside that you gave to your husband for your birthday. The locket was in the shape of a concentric circle, symbolizing a vinyl record. Having been big fans of vinyl records, you two always bought something related to it, including a locket. As you held the locket close to you, tears streamed down your cheeks. The burden on your shoulders eventually lightened, and you broke down in what felt like ages, with Steve consoling you by splaying his hand on your shoulder.

As Steve continued to go door to door, and encounter different groups of people while giving people their letters, they invited him to different homes, and he had barbecues at a couple of them, some of them even encouraging and praising him. That’s when you started going out more often, wishing everyone a good morning. One of the ladies even commented that you’d started becoming more cheerful, and that gave you a sense of relief. Then you had an encounter with Steve and thanked him for everything.

He then made sure to visit you now and then whenever he was done delivering letters, and you two would bond over glasses of Chateau Cheval Blanc and watch a couple of movies together, while you two shared stories of your upbringing. While he shared stories of his time with his family, Peggy, Howard Stark, Bucky, and Tony and the Avengers, you mentioned how you came to New York to work as a budding graphic designer and that you met your late husband at a success party in the company both of you were working on, and after you, two got married, you two moved to live in the suburbs while your husband went to work in the city. Over time, you two had gotten closer, something you didn’t imagine would happen.

One night, when Steve came to meet you, clad in a blue t-shirt, a brown leather jacket, and denim jeans, and with a serious look on his face, as you opened the door, he muttered, “(Y/N), we need to talk.”

You nodded and asked him to enter, with your gramophone playing a collection of songs that you’d curated. As he entered, he sighed, saying, “I hope you know that I still miss Peggy, right?”

You tilt your head in confusion, replying, “Yes, I do, the same way I miss my husband.”

He nods, continuing, “Okay, so we’re on the same page then. I’m also scared to commit to someone again. You know that, right?”

Raising an eyebrow, you inquire, “It is the same for me, but where are you going with this, Steve?”

With his arms around your neck and your arms on his side, you could hear both of your hearts beating faster. As you two draw into a kiss, with your eyes closed, and lips brushing against each other, Steve suddenly opens his eyes and takes a step back.

He then replies, “I have to go,” and walks out of the house, leaving you feeling restless, and impatient. What you were unaware of was that Steve had gone to see Peggy’s grave and visited her grave.

He then squatted and whispered, “Hey there, girlie. There’s this girl that I like, and I want to take it forward, but, Peggy, I’m,” his voice quivers.

Then he continues, “I’m scared. What if I lose her, the way I lost you? It would hurt all over again. If you could just give me a sign, your blessing, somehow, I shall go ahead and wait for you in alternate timeline. However, if you want me to wait for you, I can also do so, but just give me a sign.”

Someone faintly humming a song from afar caught his attention, the lyrics of which he recognized as “Everybody loves somebody, And although my dream was overdue, Your love made it well worth waiting, For someone like you…”

When his breathing relaxed, he felt that this was the sign he needed to continue. Looking at her resting place, he said, “thank you, girlie.”

An hour later, while you were pacing around in the living room, you hear a rustling sound, causing you to turn your attention to the door. An envelope slid from under the door again and this time when you picked it up and opened it, it looked like an invitation to come to a park.

Biting your lower lip in nervousness, you freshen up, get ready, and you get to the car to start it, taking you to the park. As you were told to walk to a certain area, your mouth gaped wide in shock to see a picnic blanket, some of your favorite snacks, hanging lights, and a couple of letters. However, you don’t see anyone. As you inspect the whole area, you hear someone asking you something.

“Do you like it?”

You then turn in the direction of the voice to find Steve walk to you with a smile on his face. With his eyes looking at you clad in your pink frilly long skirt, and white t-shirt, you run to him and hug him.

He then releases you from the hug, saying, “ I’m sorry that I got cold feet, (Y/N). I had to make sure that I could move on to start something anew with you. Truth be told, after everything that’s happened, I don’t ever want to take life for granted anymore and I don’t even know what would happen should I go back to becoming a superhero, but-”

to which you then interrupt him with a kiss on his lips, and you release yourself from it with your arms around his neck, then saying, “I know, Steve. I was upset that you walked out on me, ” causing them both to chuckle, and then you continue, “but, for what it’s worth, I’m glad that for now, you aren’t Captain America, but you’re Steve Rogers, a normal guy that went around delivering mail, and that way, you found your way to my heart.”

You then close the gap between your faces, your lips pressing onto each other, your arms around his neck and his arms on the sides of your waist, slowly dancing, with the moon bearing witness to a new love story blossoming. Who would’ve thought that both of you would get second chances at love again, all by the means of articulating words on a piece of paper? It thus felt true that everyone falls in love again and again, and when life gives you a second chance, you should never let it go.

tagging: @saintlike78 @beware-of-the-rogue @wakatshi @hyeque @akaashi-todorki @ceo-of-daichi @ambieux @thesecretwriter @moonbcrry

#.mailcarrier may!#steve rogers #steve rogers x female reader #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #tw alcohol mention #tw death mention #steve rogers fluff #shyna angst #mcu angst #mcu x reader #mcu x y/n #mcu x you #marvel cinematic universe #marvel x reader #musings of an extrovert #shyna muses

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madamlaydebug · 2 years

Text

All you need

is LESS

drama

conflict

anger

guilt

worry

blame

fear

desire

judgment

expectation

obsession

anxiety

clutter

complexity

distraction

reaction

consumption

technology

greed

wealth

status

pride

hatred..

And MORE

honesty

connection

creativity

community

integrity

laughter

wisdom

understanding

balance

kindness

generosity

courage

mindfulness

patience

simplicity

serenity

openness

gratefulness

peace

and

love..

Choose wisely.

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heliaeva · 2 years

Text

If you ask today what people actually consider happiness, it will be unlimited consumption. I could write hackneyed phrases like “this is the 21st century”, but Erich Fromm, a German philosopher, also argued on this topic in the 20th century.

And I am sure that this "malignant tumor" existed on the flesh of society long before Fromm himself.

If you ask a honest person what paradise looks like as for him, somehow he will reduce everything to consumption.

Paradise is a place to receive free goods: products, services — everything that only the heart desires.

In fact, in my opinion, paradise exists on earth, and it exists in moments of peak feelings. If we feel something at the maximum, it means that we are alive.

Feelings don't have to be positive. Pain, resentment, anger, jealousy, fear — these feelings are no worse than positive ones.

Sometimes they even express themselves more vividly than their alternatives (trust and jealousy are a vivid example of this).

In general, it's sad, of course, but that's the point. Paradise is where we are now, at this moment.

#thinkin thots #quoteoftheday #just thinkin

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planet-duckling · 1 year

Text

Profile

Name: Ana S. aka Manticore aka A.

Age: late 20s

Origin: North Blue

Residence: The Island of Chryseus (Island Made of Gold)

Star sign: Scorpio

MBTI: ENTJ, 8w9

Significant relationships: Eustass Kidd (lover), Killer (friend and confidant)

Devil Fruit: Mythical Zoan, Model: Manticore

Backstory and Motivation

As a young linguist and translator, Ana went on her first expedition as a part of a crew searching for a mythical island of Chryseus replete with fertile soils, ambrosial fruit and fairy tale treasures.

By a stroke of luck, the island finds the expeditionists, and the research begins. To the crew’s bewilderment, their safely berthed ship disappears without a trace.

In the heart of the forest, the crew is met with a guardian spirit of a Manticore that defends the island from invaders that have come to pillage the land and drain it of its rich resources, slaying the crewmen who began the excavation process on the island. However, for better or for worse, the manticore leaves the linguist untouched, vanishing instead and leaving a mysterious devil fruit behind.

Entranced by the Manticore, she consumes the fruit forever uniting with the spirit and accepting the duty of guarding the island and its inhabitants.

Together with the surviving crew, she joins Chryseus commune, scatters the fields with seeds and vineyards, produces wine and does all in her power to sustain the island’s flourishment. In several years it turns from an arguably fictional patch of land into a small but robust cradle of prosperity governed by a close-knit community. The island continues to find the tired souls and welcomes them to stay for as long as they find necessary.

A. keeps her gift and connection with the Manticore a secret, disclosed only to a few closest confidants, for the sake of the safety of the islanders and herself. Like the rest of them, she worships the ruthless spirit that executes the wrongdoers and those who disrespect the island’s folkway. However, she keeps an eye out for transgressors who intend to devastate the island or harm its inhabitants, and swiftly carries out the punishment under the guise of Manticore.

Personality

Before the fateful expedition, Ana led a peaceful but unremarkable life: she had a job that she didn’t despise but wasn’t quite passionate about; was friendly with her peers but never formed more meaningful relationships. A feeling that she can achieve more significant things in life gnawed her heart relentlessly.

She held back her fiery and passionate personality out of fear of being misunderstood or ridiculed, her desire to create and nourish her little world started dissipating until she was invited to the expedition to the mythical island as a translator. Finally, her prayers for a shift in her life have been answered.

Following the consumption of the possessed devil fruit and merging with the Manticore, she mustered courage to throw off the shackles of fear, taking initiative in building and enriching Chryseus pouring her soul into securing the well-being of the community and announcing that the island is the force to be reckoned with in trading world.

Despite Manticore-fueled ferocity she brings when dealing with traders, pirates and breakers of island’s folkway, Ana needs a lot of time to recover from the instability of being its de-facto leader. She restores her strength by making wine or painting and lounging in her garden.

At her worst, she allows her anger take over and runs off people who try to get closer to her. Several times, she transformed into Manticore’s monster point, abandoning her humanity and regretting it as soon as she’d realised what she’d done. Her intensity and tenacious drive can come across as intimidating, if not malignant and aggressive.

Appearance

Height and physique: The young leader of Chryseus is a petite woman, around 5’2’’ in height. She cannot brag she’s got voluptuous forms either.

Facial description: Fair skin tone; oval face; hooded blue eyes; straight nose; sultry lips. Wears natural eye makeup, but likes to accentuate her lips with red lipstick .

Hair: Since her arrival to Chryseus, Ana grew out her golden blond hair and started wearing it in a braid or side ponytail. For special occasions she embellishes her hairstyles with flowers.

Preferred clothing: Ana comes to town meetings and greets guests dressed modestly, not exposing her skin. For formal events, her gowns have a velvet veil cascading from her shoulder. Casually, she opts for a flowing maxi skirt with a slit and a top that exposes her clavicles and shoulders. She prefers clothing in burgundy or wine red shades with golden accessories, traditional to Chryseus.

Relationship w/ Kidd

When attacks on Chryseus trading ships became increased, Ana decided to seek help from all sailors to strengthen the defence of her people in the open sea. Alas, despite the generous reward she promised, nobody responded to her call for help.

At the brink of despair, she and de-jure mayor of the island summon the most feared pirate captains in an attempt to form an alliance with anyone willing to run protection for the island’s traders in exchange for an extravagant baksheesh. Among the captains, towers Eustass Kid, upon glancing at him Ana feels the spirit of the Manticore itself slightly roused. In his turn, Kid finds something strange yet familiar in her icy gaze. Ana does most of the talking with the pirates, although the supposed mayor is right there and the observant Kid infers who is the real decision-maker.

Negotiations go awry when one of the captains starts poking fun at the island’s fear of Manticore which results in a verbal altercation between Ana and him, the former daring him to steal something from the premises to check for himself if the legends are true. Frustrated, she adjourns the meeting, making plans to summon another batch of captains to try her luck with.

Late in the evening, she goes to the island fair to unwind and taste fresh cherry wine, when one of the vendors gifts her an adorned bottle of the most expensive nectar on the shelf. Confused, she replies she didn’t buy it, when the vendor points at the familiar towering figure enveloped in a lavish fur coat. She scoffs and approaches Kid, treating him to a glass of nectar.

One shared bottle of wine turned into two, the distance between them shortened with each joke and each laugh, soon they found themselves in her garden, feeling each other’s warmth, cheek to cheek. All of the sudden, he stares at her with the most serious expression in his eyes, telling her that he’s willing to defend her and her people no matter what happens. He’ll personally announce to everyone in the sea and on the land that anyone who attacks Chryseus' ships or the attempts to invade will have to deal with his wrath.

Touched by his words and the blood moon glimmering above their heads, Ana gave in to Kid’s persistent touch, spending the night with him, no regrets could dare to sneak into her heart. He kept his promise, mercilessly punishing the fools who attacked Manticore’s traders, and she kept hers, rewarding him tenfold for his protection.

The fact that the couple has stuck together for years remains a surprise to anyone aware of their relationship. Reckless and constantly chasing thrills, Kidd can never be bound to a singular place unlike Manticore who must guard Chryseus till the day she passes on. A shadow of fear pushed through in her soul that her attachment to the Captain of Victoria Punk might prevent her from fully bonding with the spirit, but little does she know that her lover could finally feel at home only next to her.

Thank you for reading! This is an old concept of Manticore, my first One Piece s/i that I expanded a little bit. I’m going to dedicate a separate post to her DF and Chryseus lore.

Artwork of Manticore is by my beloved wife @gojirarara 💜

#manticore #mantikidd #one piece self insert #one piece self-ship #one piece oc

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collectionoftulips · 2 years

Note

Edwina definitely changed the way she perceived her sister, when A started to show his interest, Kate became something she was embarrassed of -see the Pall Mall scene or the soiree one, for example. Something that still irks me (among the many things) is the way E was flattered by A' scheme with Dorset, unfazed even by the way the viscount umiliated Kate. Or the glove scene. At some point Kate became a nuisance then a personal maid. The half sister comment, considering E's character as a whole, I fear was something that she actually was convinced of, something that she thought even in non anger driven moments.

Your comment is really interesting because I can see where you're coming from, but I also think I read some of those scenes slightly differently (I'm not saying you're inherently wrong or anything like that, but I will offer my take).

With the Pall Mall scene, I always read Edwina being awkward in that scene as her sensing (quite accurately) that she wasn't fitting in, that she was falling short somehow of the expectations that the stay at Aubrey Hall entailed. Everyone expects her and Anthony to make a charming match and be the It couple of the season, but Edwina is feeling that she isn't measuring up to that. She's not 'vibing' the way Kate is with the Bridgertons and she doesn't have the same competitive edge that all of the Bridgertons and her sister has. Additionally, Edwina was basically raised from very young to blend into every social situation, to know and say the right thing at the right time, and here she is constantly making missteps and not feeling that she is charming everyone the way she has been taut. So when everyone let's loose and get to be themselves a bit during Pall Mall, Edwina is thrown for a loop because she's still in 'work mode' aka 'bag that man' mode that she knows she has to do. So when Edwina is puzzled by Kate in that scene, I took it more as her not really understanding the competitveness and everything. Or maybe you're thinking of a specific thing with regards to that scene?

As to being flattered by Anthony's attentions even though it embarrassed Kate at the races, I took that as due to her heavy consumption of romance novels 😉 Considering we still get the 'look at how much effort this man went into to trick you - how romantic!' vibes in romance media these days, I would assume Regency versions would be littered with them as well. Considering Anthony is the catch of the season, the fact that he seems to single Edwina out for special attention is flattering to her because Edwina knows also that her future is dependent on being charming and desirable among men of nobility. She doesn't know about the Sheffield scheme but the fundamental economics of the time for women is generally the same: they need to marry well. Should she have paid more attention to how it affected Kate and check in with how she was feeling? Probably, but she's also quite young (do they ever say her exact age?) and she's allowed (like every character) not to make every decision correctly.

I'm blanking on what the glove scene is right now, if I'm completely honest. Which one is that?

I think one of the major arcs for Edwina's character in the entire s2 is that so much of her existence was reliant on a lot of invisible labour of her family, she didn't see all the sacrifices Kate (for example) was making on her behalf and she was therefore quite sheltered. As she also points out at the end, she was never allowed to utter an opinion about those sacrifices and whether she was OK with Kate doing so much on her behalf without checking in with her. Which I personally think is a legitimate critique (I might have issues with how it was phrased on the show but that's a separate thing). Also, because Kate was so guarded, she did so much for her family without them knowing generally, and I think them not realising it could lead to a situation where it feels like Kate got a 'personal servant' vibe, so if I'm understanding you correctly, I don't think you're necessarily wrong in your feelings, but to me, I took that as part of the arc of where Edwina's character was supposed to grow.

I think similarly to my reflections on the half-sister comment and accidental arcs, I think that the show could have done with one additional scene after the girlboss moment in the church where after Edwina goes 'I've made up my mind', she actually has a conversation with Kate. I think that would have gone a long way to resolving some of those issues. But I don't know if you agree or not, but those are just some of my thoughts.

Sorry for the dissertation, this became quite long apparently? I guess in summary, I think my reading of the whole thing seems a little bit less harsh in some regards (but I obviously don't wanna speak for you and if I misunderstood I apologise), but I hope my thinking around it makes sense. Thank you so much for your ask ❤️

#bridgerton #kathony #kanthony

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sobercentre · 7 months

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How Alcohol Use Disorder Destroys Relationships

Misuse of alcohol does not only affect the physical being but also the emotional and social nature of the user. Although not all alcohol consumers graduate into addicts, frequent consumption develops a toll on one’s social and personal life. It is estimated that around 1.4 % of the global population struggles with alcohol use disorder. This translates to just as many families, friends, and colleagues who are affected, that is, second-hand effects of alcohol. People turn to alcohol for various reasons; some take alcohol to numb stressful situations, others due to peer pressure or source confidence while others just do it for fun. Whichever the reason, when your drinking habits become a problem to you and those around you then it is harmful drinking. Alternatively, when you feel the need to increase your drinking frequency then you have begun the long road down alcohol dependency which may progress to full-blown addiction. In this light, this article will look into how alcohol use disorder destroys relationships; from romantic relationships to friendships and even professional relations with others.

Mistrust

Alcoholism may change a person’s behavior making them secretive, promiscuous, and also a manipulator. It is not uncommon for an alcoholic to lie about their drinking escapades may be due to shame, fear, or the guilt of disappointing their loved ones yet again. They may also be secretive as to whom they were with or where they spent their day and this can potentially lead to broken trust in romantic relationships. What their significant other hears are just excuses and as they say, broken trust is like a broken mirror – you can never get all the pieces back together. In addition, alcohol increases testosterone levels and sexual desire which can be a motivation for unfaithfulness in relationships or unwanted pregnancies. According to the Epidemiological Catchment Area (ECA), 40% of individuals who have experienced a divorce and separation report it to be associated with alcohol use disorder (AUD).

Unavailability

Alcoholics tend to be emotionally and physically detached from their loved ones and colleagues alike. This is because alcohol affects the cognitive functioning of an individual which may make them neglect their duties and responsibilities. A lot of time is spent drinking and when they are not, they are either recovering from a blackout, hangover, or other short-term effects of alcohol or seeking out their next drink. Such routines are unhealthy and could lead to marital dissolutions, lay-offs at the place of work due to low productivity, or even abandonment by close friends. Ordinarily, if one parent suffers alcohol use disorder, they may lose touch with their children as they are barely and when they are home, they do not actively bond with the kids. Physical unavailability may extend to intimacy. Sex is an important factor in a healthy relationship. Lack of it may lead a relationship to dwindle and leave one party sexually neglected. Moreover, a drinking problem may carry with it sexual dysfunction and hence a major cause of a breakup.

Violence

Research from the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism shows that alcohol impairs the brain mechanisms which restrain impulsive behaviors. As a result, it is common to misjudge social cues and easily feel threatened or provoked. Arguments, random outbursts, and domestic violence are prime examples of how alcohol destroys relationships. The World Health Organization reports that 55% of domestic violence cases involve alcohol abuse by the perpetrator. In the US alone, there are over 500,000 cases of reported alcohol abuse every year. Alcoholics may develop aggravated anger issues as a defense mechanism, especially when their drinking temperament is in question, creating a toxic environment for their loved ones.

Assault

As mentioned earlier, excessive drinking not only increases sexual desire but also causes emotional instability. More often than not, many sexual assaults occur in bars and at parties compared to one’s home. But this does not eliminate the possibility. Heavy drinking can exacerbate misperceptions and lead to incidences of rape, physical violation, and molestation. At times, alcohol abuse assaults may have nothing to do with sex but everything to do with power. Research has shown that the majority of the incarcerated men charged with rape perform the heinous act in desperation for power which compels them to rape, defile or molest their counterparts.

Financial burden

Families with an alcoholic often experience a big financial burden as most of their income goes down the drain. Due to alcohol dependency, the addict goes to immeasurable extents to get purchase a drink, from stealing money to embezzling the family’s accounts and borrowing from friends and relatives. Such habits lead to spiraling debts that the individual, or family at large, may be unable to pay. This may, in turn, lead to unfriendliness between them and their creditors. Furthermore, alcoholics often land into legal problems, such as fights, driving under the influence, and disorderly conduct in public places. A lot of funds are wasted on settling fines and paying legal attorneys to get them out of trouble. In one way or another, living with an alcoholic may be one tough emotional and financial rollercoaster that many may back out of. Is there an intervention? (Alcohol Use Disorder) Absolutely yes. No matter what you or your loved ones have been through, there is redemption for people struggling with alcoholism. Maintaining a relationship with an alcoholic may be strenuous, tedious, and seem like a waste of resources. As they fall deeper and deeper into dependency, the situation only gets worse. However, it is possible to help them break free from the all-consuming addictive substance. But only if they are willing to accept help to break free from the physical dependence. They might have tried to break free on their own but relapsed due to their surrounding environment. It is, therefore, crucial that we provide recovering alcoholics with a conducive environment to get back on their feet; this may things as meager as not exposing them to temptation by refilling your home bars or a change of friends if they encourage them towards drinking sprees. Getting your loved one attached to a rehabilitation center, A community, or professional counseling can help them overcome addiction and gradually rebuild broken relationships. Read the full article

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The Hidden Shadow of Game Day: Understanding the Rise in Domestic Violence during Football Season

Introduction: Football season, with its exciting games, tailgate parties, and enthusiastic fan base, is a time of joy and camaraderie for many. However, beneath the surface, there’s a concerning trend that often goes unnoticed – an increase in domestic violence incidents during football season. In this blog post, we’ll explore the factors contributing to this issue, its impact on families, and what we can do to address it.

Elevated Emotions and Stress: Football can evoke strong emotions, from euphoria to frustration, and even anger. When a fan’s team is losing or a game doesn’t go their way, these emotions can escalate. This heightened emotional state can spill over into homes and relationships, leading to conflicts and sometimes violence. It is crucial for fans to recognize and manage their emotions in a healthy manner, remembering that football is just a game and that resorting to violence or abusive behavior is never acceptable.

Alcohol and Substance Abuse: Football and alcohol often go hand in hand. Many fans enjoy a few drinks while watching games, and excessive alcohol consumption can impair judgment and lead to aggressive behavior. Substance abuse can exacerbate existing conflicts and contribute to domestic violence incidents. It is important for individuals to be mindful of their alcohol consumption and to seek help if they or someone they know is struggling with substance abuse. Creating a supportive environment that encourages responsible drinking can help mitigate the negative effects of alcohol on relationships.

Competitive Spirit: Football fosters a competitive spirit, which can be positive in the context of sports but harmful when it carries over into personal relationships. The desire to win or prove one’s point can lead to arguments that escalate into physical altercations. It is essential to separate the competitive nature of the game from personal interactions. Practicing good sportsmanship and respectful communication can help prevent conflicts from escalating into violence.

Cultural Norms and Gender Expectations: Society often associates masculinity with toughness and aggression, which can create a dangerous environment when combined with heightened emotions during football games. Men may feel pressured to display dominance, leading to abusive behavior. It is crucial to challenge harmful cultural norms and promote healthier expressions of masculinity. Encouraging open dialogue about gender expectations and fostering an environment that values respect and empathy can help create a safer and more inclusive football culture.

Isolation and Lack of Support: Domestic violence can thrive in isolation. Victims may hesitate to seek help during football season because they fear disrupting the game day experience or facing backlash from their partners. This isolation can make it even more challenging for them to escape abusive situations. It is essential to create a network of support for victims, providing resources, and encouraging open conversation about domestic violence. Friends, family members, and community organizations can play a crucial role in breaking the cycle of abuse by offering a safe space and assistance for those in need.

Raising Awareness and Prevention: To address the increase in domestic violence during football season, we must first acknowledge its existence. Friends and family members can play a crucial role in recognizing signs of abuse and offering support to victims. Community organizations and sports clubs can also promote awareness campaigns to educate fans about the issue and provide resources for those in need. Additionally, integrating initiatives to address domestic violence into football events and broadcasts can help spread the message of respect and non-violence, and encourage fans to take a stand against abusive behavior. By working together, we can create a football culture that celebrates the game while ensuring the safety and well-being of all involved.

Conclusion: Football season should be a time of enjoyment and celebration, not one marred by domestic violence. By understanding the factors contributing to this problem, raising awareness, and fostering a culture of support and respect, we can work together to ensure that the shadow of domestic violence doesn’t loom over the game we love. Remember, it’s not just about winning on the field; it’s about fostering healthy relationships off the field as well.

Remember, if you or a loved one is facing an arrest related to domestic violence and requires prompt bail assistance, please reach out to Premium Bail Bonds at 863-593-2245. We specialize in helping individuals in difficult situations like this. Our priority is to expedite the bail process and support you during this challenging time. Your peace of mind is important to us.

Reference:

Card D, Dahl GB. Family violence and football: the effect of unexpected emotional cues on violent behavior. Q J Econ. 2011;126(1):103-43. doi: 10.1093/qje/qjr001. PMID: 21853617; PMCID: PMC3712874.

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