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#i’m just in a completely different place in my life now compared to when i first started writing
seakicker · 9 months
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on a plane rn, get out of my head!!! (i miss you)
do not miss me anon, i’m always in ur heart… no matter where i go or what i do, we’ll always be friends… 🤗
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iicarused · 3 months
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##most desired
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y!vox x reader // y!alastor x reader // y!adam x reader
synopsis: two overlords and an angel who are insufferably in love with you. // she / her pronouns
beware: DARK THEMES // obsessive behaviour, heavy yandere aspects, stalking,
notes: the most y/n thing i ever made
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you were one of the first overlords of hell that remained in the same rank to this day. everyone knew of you and dared not whisper your name in fear that you would come for them. they saw you in the streets or at downtown bars, sometimes at a corner table of ozzie’s. you were a mystery that preferred bringing misery.
little to no people knew of your background. it was swept under the rug to never be looked at again, and maybe lucifer helped with that. you were an angel before, way back when the rules were more strict and heaven was nothing more than a guarded kingdom.
“just one chance, y/n!” adam urged. “one date — that is all i ask for!”
you scoffed at his antics, growing used to his advances of being asked for your hand. “how many times do i have to say i’m not interested? i have work. get going before sera is on my ass.”
sera. your old boss and best friend — everything you worked towards was being at her level — instead came crashing down when you disagreed with the exterminations. adam watched you fall, but sera was the cause.
downstairs, lucifer helped cover it up. it was big talk around hell for quite some time until it was thrown under the rug and you could live in peace. while your power cannot compare to the rulers of hell, it comes close. you’re just careful of not showing that.
the radio demon always shown great interest in you — not that he knew you personally — but enjoyed your story like an old tale. while he isn’t sure which story is the real one, he enjoys the theories that you were just a hellborn that came up.
it was rosie who connected you both. she was a friend of yours, and one of the best cooks you’ve ever known.
“oh my stars! alastor! you have to come meet one of my good friends, you are going to love her!” rosie beckoned. “she is such a pumpkin and the cutest thing! oh, there she is! y/n!, over here sweet pea!” she strides towards your seated area.
you watched your friend gleefully place a hand on the man’s arm, her signature grin tugging at her lips. “this is alastor. alastor, this is y/n.”
it was nice to finally place a face to the name! he had a fondness to you from the start: sat with you at the small of your booth and chatted until nightfall, completely in awe of your welcoming personality.
but why wouldn’t you be welcoming? you are one of the main overlords, what is there to fear when nearly everyone is below you? alastor felt a sort of connection, a relation that you are no different than him.
his admiration only begins to grow from here and continues the more you interact. slowly, he becomes a part of your daily life and starts showing you off to the world that you are an “acquaintance.”
now it was no lie that your name started to spread around hell like a wildfire, especially to know your hiatus is officially over. back to the present of downtown bars and corner table at ozzie’s for dinner — your face was back up to being recognizable — and it was a wonderful change
it would not be until recent years when you would finally meet vox at an overlord meeting: his personality nearly matched yours. if not, then you both had a click that had you both in deep conversation right after.
you could imagine alastors dislike towards that interaction
“so you’re the big talk of hell, huh?” the host approached you with confidence inside and out. “my, what a pretty face! it’s practically made for television, how about we do something about that?” the moment brought your hand to shake his, vox brought you to his side with an arm over your shoulder as he walked you to your seat.
“what do you have in mind?” now, normally you don’t condone this behaviour — but he really piqued your interest. “it’s not like my face isn’t already noticed on the streets, for what reason does it need to be on billboards?”
“stunning features like yours should be shown off, and not just for the streets,” he emphasized. “here’s my card, we could talk more later, dear.”
alastor had a full front view of this interaction and a perfect angle of vox’s smug expression when he watched you tuck the card in your pocket.
now don’t get me wrong, adam has been watching.
he couldn’t let his sweetheart just go to hell like that! littered with sinners and demons and— you get the point. it was hard to recognize him with the mask he now wore, especially since he never made the effort to show himself to you.
what if you were angry at him? he seen your face fall when the topic of exterminating these wretched souls came up. he made a point to his angels that they do not touch a strand of your hair.
he can’t keep himself away from you though, not when there’s no bastards that are getting too cozy with you. his plans of coming back into your life needing to take a charge and fast.
coming down as he pleases to just see you, often keeping his mask on so no demon can see how he looks like. whisking you into the sky so you won’t be able to get away from him
he has your wings on display in heaven, don’t worry about it.
vox and alastor coming to find out someone from the heavens is coming to see you? this is by far the first time in history they will ever come into an agreement of something: no angel hands should ever touch your skin.
alastor makes it a point to constantly whisk you to the hotel, or sometimes his radio station to hide. “they won’t find you here, sweetheart! i’ll keep you safe.”
the way all three of them would become more and more possessive the more time you are with one or the other. you can’t say no, there is denial when wanting to just stay home alone. someone is always at your hip.
there is only so much time where you either kill one of them or they take you and hide forever: but forever isn’t long when adam has his angels searching for you each year.
“c’mon babe! we could go back up to heaven, i’ll pull some strings!” adam often confides.
“we could rule over hell with no one to undermine our power if we took the chance!” vox would persuade.
“we could hide forever and live however you desire if you just take my hand.” alastor chimes.
having these 3 men after you is something you do not want, especially when their obsession levels keep rising. at this rate, murder is an option. it’s only the matter of time.
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satorusdiary · 11 months
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dilf!toji being your ex bf
fluff & angst + making up + cuddling + toji not being able to resist you when you look so fragile + toji forever loving you
part 2! - back in love !
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You sent 1:03 am
hey, r u awake?
toji places the cigarette back down on the ashtray, looking at his phone slightly shocked. it’s been months since you and him have had contact, the split up that has happened to your relationship has left a strain in his heart.
why did you text him at this hour? and most importantly, why aren’t you asleep? toji knows how well your sleep schedule usually was.
his friends look at him concerned, the look on toji’s face confusing them even more compared to when he stopped smoking repeatedly just a few seconds ago.
“fushiguro, you good?” satoru questions, patting his friends shoulder as he looks over at his friends phone. he wasn’t able to get a look at the message before toji pulls the phone into a direction that wasn’t able to be seen.
“yeah.. jus’ lemme call someone real quick.” before the rest of his friends could protest, toji is up and walking over to an empty room in the apartment. taking a seat on the bed.
Toji sent 1:09 am
thought i told you to lose my number
now that’s something he wouldn’t text you, he immediately starting regretting sending that message the second you immediately read the message.
you were his sweet little girl. the young woman who he swore he was gonna marry, the one he swore to have kids with.
things were different when he realized how much his life would have an impact on you if you stayed with him.
what’s good about a sweet girl who has a bright future getting with a older man selling illegal substances, that could send him to jail for years and years.
yeah not good at all.
toji knew what’s best for you, and if it meant him not being with you then it was worth it.
because he loved you, and would do physically anything in his power for you to have the best in life.
You sent 1:09 am
i know, i just need someone to talk to rn. i’m sorry
his heart weeps, you still want his comfort even after he has completely broke you, and your relationship with him.
he should be in jail for just breaking you in general.
toji sighs, not knowing how to reply. he wants to comfort you, yet he wants to push you away from his life. push you away from the trouble and the dangers that could happen to you.
he thinks you have given up until you text him 3 minutes later.
You sent 1:12 am
can i call you, please toji?
he couldnt deny it. he just couldnt. his love for you was simply unbreakable even if you weren’t together anymore.
his friends out in the living room are most likely concerned and worried for toji, but that’s the least of his problems. he needs to know if you’re okay, if you’re hurt.
‘incoming call from Toji’
he swears his heart skips a beat when the call goes through.
toji is not one to get nervous. especially with anything in general. but when it came to you, everything comes crashing down. when it comes to you, toji is willing to do anything for you, because you were his girl. his love.
“..hi” your voice is shaky, it seems you’re nervous as well. could he blame you though? this was the first time in months he has actually spoke to you.
“hey.” he replies, hoping you wouldn’t notice the weak tone in his voice as he spoke.
there’s a moment of silence, and soft breathing from your end before toji speaks up.
“are you ok? why’d you call me.”
it’s harsh, his tone is harsh. your eyes begin watering, and you hope he doesn’t notice.
“i-i am just having trouble sleeping, that’s all. ‘wanted your company atleast to calm me down.” your tone has a small strain, as if you were crying for hours before you called him.
it was as if he was able to see your puffy eyes through the screen, he could just imagine it now.
“there’s something else, hm? c’mon tell me, y’know i won’t judge.” especially with you. is what he wanted to say as-well, but he couldn’t get to soft with you now. he couldn’t.
he hears a sniffle from your end, feeling his heart clench once more. as if his heart is dropping to the bottom of his stomach.
“okay.. t-truth is i usually sleep better with you ‘round. but since you’re gone, ‘ts been kinda rough. i just wanted to call you for once, to see if it would help..” you confessed, voice breaking down in between sentences.
toji has an urge to put you down, and hang up. but he couldn’t, how could he resist you? especially after everything he has put you through.
the bracelet on his wrist that has your initials come into his vision. you had made this for him when he was sick, he has never took it off ever since.
“y’want me to come over? not gonna make contact, jus’ gonna be there til you sleep.” he says calmly, he swore he could’ve heard you sigh in relief.
“mhmm, yes please..” you’re still polite, his sweet girl is still sweet around him. that’s what he misses with you.
“alright’ be there in 10. jus know i’m never doin this shit again, kay?” he says harshly, too harsh.
you sniffle again, he could tell your frowning and having tears drop on your phone screen. his heart strings get tugged, and he calms his weeping heart.
he’s hurt you once again.
the call ends before you could say anything else, and he’s out of the bedroom quickly taking his keys. his friends look at him concerned.
“yo, you good?” suguru comments, looking up at his friend who was ready to leave the apartment.
“where you going?” satoru also questions.
toji shakes his head, letting out a deep sigh as he turns to look at his of friends once again.
“gonna be gone for a bit, see ya tomorrow?” he waves them off, and goes out the door before they could reply, or ask anymore questions.
he knows he said he would be at your place by 10 minutes, but he ends up arriving in 5 minutes. quickly at your door step, knocking on the door gently.
just as he predicted, you open the door almost immediately.
when he looks at you, he swears he could break down then and there. on your door step.
your eyes are puffy, you’re wearing his hoodie that he “accidentally” left at your home, and there were dried tear stains on your puffy cheeks.
he wanted to kiss your cheeks badly, and cradle you in his arms. but he resisted.
thats before you crash into his arms, immediately breaking down. hugging him tightly as if he was going to disappear again.
toji breaks, he can’t handle the cold act around you any longer.
“y/n? what’s wrong baby? speak to me..” toji coo’s, his harsh tone disappeared. you automatically feel comfort from his nice tone, something you missed.
there he is, the sweet older boyfriend you have always missed. the man who was your home, your protector, your everything.
“‘missed you s’much toji. miss being with you and megumi, i-i can’t sleep without thinking about how i could’ve been better for you.” you stutter repeatedly.
it was no lie that megumi missed you as well. the boy who is only 3 years old can not go a night without asking where you were, if you were coming back to him without breaking down. because you made the little boy feel loved.
toji’s heart breaks, now he notices how selfish he has been. yes he was protecting you, but he also broke you so much. regret seeps into his body, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly.
“‘s not your fault sweets, you were more than enough for me. c’mon, let’s go to bed.” he murmurs, picking you up bridal style and walks towards your bedroom. the door behind him shutting closed.
the photo of you both happily together was still on your night stand, toji’s heart breaks for the millionth time in the past hour.
his side of the bed was cold, as if you never slept on it. that’s because it felt wrong sleeping on that side, knowing it once belonged to him.
you continue crying as you’re placed on the bed, still in toji arms. he’s careful with you, placing kisses on your face and rubbing your body to give you his heat.
“i-i miss you.. s’much.” you repeat, looking up at him for the first time with clear sight. tears drying back on your cheeks.
he gives you a sad smile and kisses both of your cheeks, sticky with tears.
“i miss you more sweetheart, missed my little girl s’much.. ‘l’ll explain everythin to you tomorrow, kay?” he questions, caressing your cold cheek.
the smile you give him is sad, but could easily melt the coldness in his heart.
after you nod he places a kiss on your lips, before pulling you closer, your head on his chest while is head is rested on top of yours.
the night goes by, and your soft snores fill the room. toji’s eyes are still glued onto the photo of you both, looking so happy, so dumb and in love.
he is gonna make that happen again, only for you. he’d figure out everything else soon, his priority was now you.
“i love you, missed you more than anything. baby.” he whispers quietly, placing one last kiss to your temple before drifting off to sleep.
for the first time in months he is able to sleep with no bad feelings, or any nightmares.
that is because you’re by his side, by his side to push away all the bad thoughts. by his side to make him feel loved again.
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Jujutsu Kaisen masterlist
part 2 - back in love !
a/n: don’t mind typos pls, it’s like 3:47 am😭😭
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clockwayswrites · 2 months
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Masked in Amity
CW: Sam doesn't come off great in this, but not Sam bashing. She just has a lot of growing up to do still and knee jerk reacts badly. (I also don't want to listen to any Sam bashing please and ty.)
Sam’s room still looked the same as always. Danny supposed that’s what happened when someone moved out for college but still came home again— especially to a home like Sam’s. There were only a few posters, a few photos, and a knickknack or two that had changed between high school and now. Danny sat on the edge of the bed like always.
“So how’s school doing?” Danny asked into the awkward silence. Silences never used to be awkward between them, or was that just looking back with rose colored glasses?
“Ugh,” Sam gripped and flopped back onto her bed next to Danny. “Why would you even ask me that? You know I hate it.”
“Because it’s what you’re doing right now? It’s a huge part of your life, you can’t just… avoid it.”
“Watch me,” Sam said, bitterly. Her snarled lips looked weird without the dark purple lipstick. “I’m going to get my stupid law degree my parents are paying for and work at some stupid corporate firm Dad has connections at and when my trust fund has made enough in interest I’m going to quite and go open a non-profit and sue all those fuckers I was forced to work for over how they’ve fucked up the environment.”
“Okay,” Danny said. He didn’t want to argue about this. He just hoped this plan worked better than the last three Sam had had before her privilege knocked her down a peg.
“Can I ask about, I don’t know, your time in Chicago at least?”
“Chicago is amazing,” Sam said, wistfully. “Being in Chicago, I mean, I’m sure you know how it is, it really makes it clear how backwater Amity Park is. The things people worry about here are so small compared to what’s out there!”
Danny just hummed in response. He didn’t exactly know what to say to that. It didn’t feel completely wrong, but it wasn’t right either. Worries weren’t a competition like that.
“And the bands!” Sam continued, thankfully changing the topic. “I have got to see so many amazing bands. The local scene alone is amazing and no one knows about them so you can be right up close and a lot of times even talk to the band after. You should come for a show sometime.”
“I can try to,” Danny said. Sam’s music wasn’t usually his thing, but something like that might be fun. It would be different at least. Danny gave her a little smile. “Maybe Tucker could make it out too.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “You know he won’t. When was the last time you talked to him not on the computer or the phone? He’s only here at Christmas when you aren’t.”
“You know how I feel about Christmas, Sam,” Danny said, holding back a sigh. Sure Tucker had been busy lately and that had made him more distant, but he was still one of their trio. “And if we plan something then Tucker can schedule for it. Don’t count him out just because he’s busy.”
“Alright, fine, we can plan something for a bigger show with Tucker,” Sam agreed, “but you still need to come out to something local. They’re really better anyways. We’ll go out to eat first and hit up a bar or three after. I know some really great places— places like you’ve never seen.”
Sam reached up and wrapped her hands around Danny’s neck, pulling him down a little. “It can be a date.”
Something in Danny balked at that. It was an innocent enough comment. Sam and him had dated and then not and then dated again or just had fun together. They’d known each other so long that it was easy to just ebb and flow out of the different levels of a relationship like that.
This time, though, Danny found himself resisting the tide. “Or we can just hang out.”
The almost dreamy smile Sam had crumpled into a frown. “What? I mean, sure, it can, but why? Are you seeing someone?”
“Yes? No? I mean, I’ve been… sleeping with someone, but we’re not dating or anything.”
“That’s okay,” Sam said easily. “I’m not going to make you be exclusive. I don’t want to be either right now; we’re not around each other enough for that and You know that I’ve been sleeping with my roommate sometimes and I’ve met a cute person in study group now too with amazing fingers.”
“No, I know, just…” Danny gave a frustrated noise. Nightwing and him weren’t even close to being exclusive. Someone like Nightwing could have anyone they wanted and with how much he liked sex, Danny was pretty sure Nightwing did have whoever he wanted. Danny was just… convenient for the hero side and Danny didn’t begrudge the other that. It was convenient for Danny too. It was just…
Danny didn’t want to keep living the same cycle with Sam where he was her world for a few weeks or months and then just back to an occasional phone call. He didn’t want to keep being pulled back to Amity Park. Maybe meeting her in Chicago would be different enough, but Sam was still so tied to Amity and always would be by her parent’s money.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do this again,” Danny said slowly, feeling the words out as he said them. “Maybe it’s time just to leave us dating in the past?”
Sam dropped her hands and sat up. “Excuse me?”
Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just, we’ve tried being together in a lot of different ways and we always end up in the same place.”
“So you want to leave me in the past?”
“No!” Danny said quickly, trying to get ahead of this before Sam spiraled too badly from making assumptions. “I’d love to come to Chicago and see a band with you! Just… not as a date.”
“Because you want to leave that in the past,” Sam snapped and got up off the bed.
Danny scrambled off also.
“That’s not a bad thing. I enjoyed it and I know you did too. Just more, okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrase? I mean maybe we shouldn’t go down that road again when we know where it’s going to end.”
Sam crossed her arms. That was never a good sign. “Right, because I’m always going to be a dead end, is that it? Not like you who’s off playing hero with the big names?”
“What? What does me being a Titan have to do with this?”
“Don’t play dumb, Danny, we both know you’re not. You left to go be a famous hero and hardly looked back at Amity Park or me or Tucker or your parents. What if the town needed you?”
Danny threw his hands up in the air. “Why would they need me? I destroyed the portal, came to an agreement with Vlad, made sure my parents couldn’t build another working one— it fixed everything!”
“And then left.”
“So I could help other people!”
“Sure it wasn’t so that you could be famous?”
Danny closed his mouth with a clack.
Sam winced at her own words. “Danny…”
“No.” Danny backed up a few steps from her. “No. You don’t get to— you of all people don’t get to come at me like that! I never wanted to be a hero, Sam! You’re the one who said I needed to protect Amity and you were right, sure, but it’s never what I wanted! You wanted it!”
“Danny, no—” Sam reached out for him and Danny stepped back again, hitting the wall.
“Yes you did, Sam! You did or I never would have had to die a second time after your wish! I lost everything again! I don’t have a future like you and Tucker, I just have being a hero. I just have being dead.”
“Come on Danny,” Sam tried. She moved close again, slowly, like Danny was some sort of feral animal.
Maybe he really was just a caged beast.
“I’m just— I better go. I’m just going to go,” Danny said. In a flash of light he was back to being Phantom. He let himself tip back and phase through the wall.
As he left Amity Park behind, he couldn’t help but think it really said something that he was far more comfortable being Phantom these day than Danny.
--
AN: Here's yous all voted on treat for the day! This comes before Danny showing up at Dick's door, quite upset.
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heliza24 · 2 months
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I want to talk a little bit about Daniel in the Interview with the Vampire show, because the new trailer material has me stuck thinking about him, and also I’ve never written about how meaningful he is as disabled character to me before.
I don’t see many people thinking about show!Daniel in these terms, but he’s a canon disabled character. And I think the way he is written is just SO good. The acerbic wit, his relationship to doctors and his medication, his rueful acceptance of the way his disability has changed him. It is all so correct!! It’s really incredibly rare to have not only a disabled character written this well but specifically a chronically ill character written this well. His illness is always present; it doesn’t get forgotten about by the story. It gives Daniel insight into the vampires (more on this in a min), but it also gives Louis and Armand leverage over him. When Louis triggers his Parkinson’s symptoms? Deeply not ok. But that’s what made it such a great scene, and really made Louis feel dangerous and threateningin that moment. Armand and Louis arranging Daniel’s meds is a sign of great care and also great power over Daniel. It’s the perfect way to communicate the complicated power dynamic in their relationship.
I also just fucking love that this show takes place in 2022 and doesn’t erase the pandemic. Covid is a very present concern for Daniel and I cannot describe how validating that is for me as someone who is clinically vulnerable to Covid and who has had to really limit my life and take a lot of precautions because everyone else has decided to stop caring whether they pass on Covid or not. The fact that Daniel gets on a plane to Dubai is a BIG DEAL. He’s risking his life to talk to Louis and Armand before he’s even in the room with them. He really wants to be there. I have to make a similar calculation every time I travel, and trust me, getting on that plane knowing getting sick could spiral you into even worse health or kill you is really hard.
I think making Daniel disabled and including the pandemic is kind of a genius level decision on a thematic level. Of course Daniel is now facing down his mortality, which gives him a whole new lens on the vampires and the fact that he once asked them to turn him. And the pandemic further highlights his fragility, and is also possibly being used as a cover for drama that’s happening in the vampire world. But I think it also really sets Daniel up as a foil to Louis.
There’s a lot of analysis of the vampire chronicles that reads vampirism as a metaphor for queerness. But I would actually propose that it’s a much neater parallel for disability and illness in a lot of ways. So many of Louis’s initial experiences after being turned resonated with me, as someone who became chronically ill in my 20s. My appetite and relationship to food completely changed, much like Louis. My relationship with the outdoors and the sun changed, because of dysautonomia and allergy reasons. I was very mad, and very depressed, and I too have missed out on birthday parties and big life events like Louis did because I was too sick to go. Hell, you can even say that the way that Louis is treated as evil by his family, that the way vampires literally can’t be a part of society during the day, is reminiscent of ableist exclusion and ugly laws. (Ugly laws were laws that forbid disabled people, especially those with visible differences, from being out in public, and they were on the books in many American municipalities until the 1970s.) You can look at Lestat being an out and proud vampire in the first few episodes on the season and imploring Louis to leave his shame behind as a queer thing, but you can also view it as a disabled thing. Disabled people are portrayed as monstrous so often (and in a way that has gone relatively unexamined compared to say, the queer coded villain trope) that sometimes it’s just easier to embrace that label: I’m the monstrous Crip, but at least I’m not ashamed of or disgusted by who I am anymore.
I do think the real strength of this adaptation is that while you can find parallels between queerness or disability or other forms of marginalization with vampirism, ultimately it’s not a one-to-one parallel. It speaks to the real world but ultimately it is a gothic horror story about supernatural monsters. So I don’t mean to say that vampirism directly equals disability, because it does not. But I do think that making Daniel disabled was an intentional choice to help draw out some of those parallels, and I think the text is richer for it.
So Louis and Daniel have had these kind of parallel experiences of uncontrollable and difficult things happening to their bodies. It sets them up perfectly as foils, and even, I would argue, as the A plot and B Plot protagonists. This is one of my favorite ways of kind of examining the structure of a TV show (or maybe it’s that most of my favorite shows seem to be structured this way?). When TV was all episodic, it would be common to refer to the A plot (mystery of the week), B plot (interpersonal drama happening as the mystery gets solved) and C plot (any overarching plot tying the season together) in an episode. Now that stuff is serialized, there’s often a main protagonist, who has the main dramatic question and the most agency, and then there is often a secondary B plot that explores similar themes and mirrors the A plot, or presents a second main character who is the ldifferent side of the same coin” to the main protagonist. (My favorite example of this is Flint and Max in Black Sails, and I’ve also made the argument that Wilhelm and Sara fit this pattern in Young Royals.) In IwtV, Louis is obviously the main protagonist of the show, especially in the A Plot, which is the stuff taking place in New Orleans/Paris. But I would argue that Daniel is the protagonist of the B Plot set in Dubai. At the very least they’re intentionally set up as mirrors of each other:
They are both unreliable narrators, who are struggling with the way memory contorts (through memory erasure, illness, deliberate obfuscations, and just the passage of time). The most recent teaser trailer, where we hear Louis saying “I don’t remember that”, with panic in his voice, further underlined this similarity between Louis and Daniel to me. I don’t know if it means that Louis has also had his memory tampered with, as I’m assuming Daniel has, but I do think it means that Louis is going to be struggling with feeling out of control of his own narrative more in season 2, a thing that was already starting for Daniel in season 1.
They are also both locked into power struggles with people more powerful than they are. The fact that Louis is under Lestat in the flashbacks and above Daniel in the Dubai scenes in terms of power/status makes it all the more interesting. And, if we want to go ahead and assume that the Devils Minion’s years have happened in the past by the time we get to Dubai— it’s possible that both Daniel and Louis are united in being the less powerful partner in their own respective fucked up gothic romances.
They’re also both the audience’s entry point into their respective stories. Louis’s narration guides us into the world of vampires. Daniel’s questioning satisfies our human curiosity in Dubai.
I think one of the things that makes the show so special is the way that these two protagonists interact. In a lot of shows the a plot and the b plot stay pretty separate. I love talking about Black Sails for this because I think it’s such a good example; Flint and Max never exchange dialogue the entire show, even though they’re so clearly affecting each other the whole time. But the way that Louis and Daniel clash in Dubai is so exciting. We see them both wrestling for control of the narrative. It’s thrilling to watch and it just hammers home the theme of how complicated and changeable stories can be.
I am SO excited to see how the Dubai scenes play out in season 2 because of it. I really can’t wait. I’m really hoping we’ll see Daniel and Louis’s relationship evolve in surprising ways, and I’m holding my breath that we’ll get a lot of Armandaniel material to work with. (I have a whole other post drafted that’s much less smart than this one and is just me waxing poetic about Devil Minion’s theories which I may post at some point. You have been warned.)
I do have two wishes for Daniel in the new season, and they’re 1: that he gets to have romance/sex, because disabled (and older!) characters are so often seen as unworthy of being desired, and I would like to see that challenged and 2: that he continues to refuse to be turned/is not offered a vampiric cure for Parkinson’s. The magic cure for a disability or chronic illness is probably my least favorite disability trope, because it serves to erase disabled characters and representation from the narrative, and I want to see my experiences continue to be reflected in Daniel’s. That means that whatever ending Daniel’s story has will probably have at least a bit of tragedy baked into it, but I’m ok with that.
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rapunzelbro · 2 months
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Comforting Velvette as her S/O.
So tumblr broke, this request was vanished from my profile. So to the anon who requested I’m so sorry I hope you find this The prompts were “I don’t want to be alone right now” and another I forgot. Enjoy!
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It would take forever to establish a relationship with Velvette let's be honest here.
She doesn't want anyone to see her in a vulnerable state, she doesn't want anyone thinking she is weak and needed a partner
That was until she met you, something about you was just different to her.
You were soft spoken, minded your own business but wouldn't stay quiet when someone said something that set you off.
Like to piss you off? Man you'd set whoever pissed you off, straight and they wouldn't speak, or argue with you again.
And your designs were amazing decent.
Velvette rarely had to make any changes when it came to your sketches
And your stitch work? Fucking flawless compared to the others. Who just were you?
She would try to stalk you on social media to find out you had no account, or one she could find, with a little help from Vox she did eventually find it.
It was a completely anonymous account, with a rather decent following Like probably 10k?
Impressive but not compared to Velvette
Your account was hiding your identity by a random username that had no mention of you in the slightest, and no posts that involved photos of you. Just sketches, sheet music photos, and the occasional video of someone singing, which she assumed was you.
But what amused her more than anything, was seeing multiple sketches of her on your page.
You captured her beautifully, didn't make her look bad in any sort of way, it was so simple, but yet so beautiful.
Velvette definitely sereenshotted the sketeh
She never would have thought you admired her outside the work place. Let alone be a fucking singer too? What couldn't you do?
She'd call you into her office the next day and you'd be so fucking anxious that you fucked up somehow as you knocked on the door
"Yeah yeah come in"
You'd take a deep breath calming your nerves down before you went inside, closing the door behind you as you walked to her desk, she was still looking down at her phone
"You wanted to see me Miss?"
The second she heard your voice she looked up from her phone, placing it down and grabbing a piece of paper from the inside of her desk before placing it down
Shit
“Would you care to explain this?"
Your cheeks instantly flared red in embarrassment as you realized just what it was
The sketches of her that you drew
"I..I'm so sorry I promise it won't happen again I just well I-“
"Oh quit your yapping I'm not mad you idiot"
She instantly shuts you down slight irritation on her face, while confusion struck yours as you remained silent
"I'm promoting you to head designer, don't fuck this up. Shoo get back to it"
What the fuck? No literally, what the fuck?
You left as soon as she shooed you away, you were beyond confused as to why she did what she did, but you'd never question her.
Months after the promotion you and Velvette would become closer, considering how the two of you now worked closer together since you directly reported to her now.
Velvette wasn't as harsh as she usually was to you, she listened to your suggestions and took your thoughts seriously.
Velvette would ask you to go to a fashion show with her Saying it was to get another eye on the new trends, but you and her both indirectly knew it was her asking you in a date, which you obvious said yes.
After that point you were would date in private If anyone were to question you two?
They'd be instantly fired on spot or killed. She didn't need anyone peaking into her personal life
Would introduce you to the other Vee's later on
"She is mine don't try and start no fucking deals with her, shes off the market"
If she didn't say that Valentino would have snatched your ass for himself. And man did he want to. Fucking creep
You two often watched tv together in her room in private, or you would sketch her, she absolutely loved that she was your muse. She would always have sketch books and the highest quality of materials.
You stayed with her during the exterminations that happened for your protection too, she wouldn't let you not stay with her if you were killed she'd fucking lose her mind
It's been almost a year since the two of you have been together privately, with the exception of Vox and Val
You'd be working late at the office sewing a new design when you'd get a text from her
"Y/n doll. Can come back to our room whatever you're doing can wait"
"Be there in five"
Oh and you moved in with her. Per her request of course.
You finish up what you were doing before heading back, knocking on the door to your shared room
When you don’t hear a response you grow concerned, as you open the door.
You see Velvette on the bed on your shared bed on her side. She quickly sits up hearing the door open
"Vox I told you to fuck off! Wait Y/n"
Her hard glare softens, she can tell she was crying
"Velv.. are you okay? What happened?"
You quickly made your way over to her
"I don't want to be alone right now, doll"
She simply says before you instantly hug her.
Her returning the hug as you two just sit there, her quietly sobbing as you gently run your fingers through her soft curls, humming gently to her, trying to comfort her the best you can
You two are like that before she pulls away, keeping a hand in yours as you wipe the tears that remained trying your best to not smear her makeup anymore than it already was.
After a while she finally talks about what was causing her pain.
She might not be open to a lot of people
But damn do you help her a lot.
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my-love-is-sunlight · 2 months
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Full bloom
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Zoro x reader
Warnings: fem reader, swearing, reader is mad at Zoro, SFW
Word count: 1.7k
Summary: In which you overhear Zoro talking badly about you.
Notes: This is also my bird!reader but decided to take another rote with this one idk this is literally just my one piece self insert just wanted to write about them
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
PT2 ➜
You were not the kind to fall slow, you’ll fall completely flat, rough and knowing it’ll probably hurt badly, not even stretching your hands to stop the fall, pouring your whole heart and soul
You’ll fall hard
The moment you saw Zoro Roronoa you knew you were doomed, falling for someone like him was gonna be a huge problem not only because he so happened to be part of the pirate crew you were asked to join, but because you quickly picked up he wasn’t a feelings kind of guy, he was stoic and closed up like a big old book with a even bigger lock
But one day the feelings for the swordsman that had bloomed in your heart were quick to wither and rot, after overhearing a conversation between him a some other members of the crew
“I don’t know why you invited her Luffy” Zoro scoffed “An archer is useless we already have Usopp he’s a good shooter, and her powers are ridiculous”
Your heart sinked at every word that left Zoro’s mouth, after feeling rejected your whole life and thinking you had finally found a place where you belonged, you’re proven wrong once again
“Don’t say that Zoro!” Luffy defended which made you smile a little “She’s not only that! Y/n is this very powerful warrior and turning into a bird is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!” He sounded excited, at least your captain liked you
Zoro’s silence was like a dagger going through your poor heart, holding your breath in hopes he’ll answer and say that he was wrong, but instead your ears catch Sanji’s mischievous laugh
“Don’t tell me you feel threatened by such a gorgeous lady mosshead”
You were thorn between running away or pull yourself closer to the door to listen, but Zoro made that decision for you after hearing a muffled thud followed by his loud screaming
“Shut up! I’m going to be the world’s greatest swordsman I am never intimidated specifically by some stupid bird you dumb cook!” You stood outside the door, hurt and angry, you thought Zoro would be different from the men in your island, always overlooking you and judging your abilities for reasons you couldn’t control
After this incident you decided to avoid the green haired pirate completely, if he already was hard to talk to, whenever you were tasked to do something together you kept your mouth shut, always training opposite sides of the Merry and answering him coldly. Everyone picked up on your change in behavior, the contrast between how you treated literally everyone else, even strangers, compared to Zoro was palpable, your whole aura shifted at the sight of him
But as upset as you were, you two made perfect fighting partners. Those were the only times when you’ll put your pride aside, after all you were a professional and valued the place Luffy had offered you in the crew, and as much as you hated to admit it, Zoro was an exceptional swordsman.
After some time, the stoic man had warmed up to your presence, he now respected you since he saw you were not only capable but complemented him in battle like no one else in the crew. Everything he knew about you was only things he’ll pick up when you would chat with others or little antics and traits he’ll put attention to, but it was enough to trust you and have a real read into your character
“Why do you always avoid me?” Zoro asked one time while you both walked back to the Going Merry, he had gotten lost again, and you were the assigned Zoro’s compass since you were able to fly around and find him easily, which you didn’t quite enjoy especially now that he decided to instigate whatever had happened between you two
You scoffed “Where did you get that idea from?”
“Everyone notices how mean you are to me and I am not blind” mean, that word lingered like poison in your ears, you were the kind of person to always try be the best version of yourself, being patient and understanding, so hearing Zoro calling you mean felt unfair
“I have my reasons” the green haired pirate noticed your body language change completely, you stiffened and your breath quickened, fist clenching. This wasn’t exactly the direction he wanted this conversation to go but he wasn’t quite good at talking
“How dramatic” he whispered but loud enough so you’ll hear him, already giving up in a peaceful chat
You stopped in your tracks anger boiling up and reaching your tongue immediately “Oh fuck off” Zoro’s eyes widened, he had never heard you swear let alone seen you this angry before
“You can go ahead and call me whatever you want, but you don’t know me Zoro” there you stood in front of this man that doubled you in size, eyes that froze him in place, your face was red with fury and the tension could be seen from a mile away. The swordsman backed up slowly, was he feeling threatened?
“But if you did, you’ll know I know better than to talk shit behind my crewmates back” in a swift move you morphed into your bird form, not wanting to continue the conversation and soared the skies, high enough so he could still follow you back
No one had ever stood up to Zoro that way before, he silently walked under you a million thoughts going through his head at once, what did you meant about talking shit about another crewmate? I mean of course he would talk shit but nothing ever serious, but again, how could you know if he barely even said hi to you?, a little guilt settled on him, maybe he was the mean one after all
Curiosity tickled him as his mouth opened and without thinking twice he screamed your name in hopes you’ll fly back down, after a little thinking you did, perching on a nearby tree before chirping at him
“Can you like… not… be a bird?” You made what it seemed to be an angry sound before morphing back to your original form while soaring down, landing in front of him arms crossed brows furrowed
“I don’t talk to assholes” you had always been the bigger person your whole life, so acting petty maybe wasn’t your style but really you didn’t cared enough what Zoro would think of you, after all you still seemed to think he viewed you as useless
“You still haven’t answered my question” his tone shifted, you had started to annoy him, he hated people that aren’t straightforward “I don’t know you you’re right, but maybe if you allowed me to we wouldn’t be here in the first place”
“I know you didn’t wanted me in the strawhats” you blurted out, knowing he wouldn’t drop the matter before arriving back to the ship and wanted to avoid everyone hearing you “You think I’m ridiculous and useless” that came out way shakier than you wanted to, finally showing how hurt you actually felt “My whole life I’ve been underestimated, I’m a woman and my powers are always taken as a joke, my abilities never recognized just because of how I look and who I am, when I joined you guys I thought I could leave that behind…”
The swordsman felt a knot forming on his throat, feeling absolutely unequipped for this situation and mostly, guilty, guilty he had ever made you feel something remotely close to this. It was true, when you first joined he didn’t quite agreed on Luffys decision but after all he was the captain, but you had proven him wrong showing your hard work and talents. For a moment you reminded him of someone he had cared for long ago, which made this whole fiasco even worse, feeling terrible he couldn’t even mutter a response, only standing before you absolutely bare.
“I am not asking you to be my best friend in the world, just for respect and some trust, at least the same one you give everyone else” ouch, your words as soft as they left your lips felt sharp, cutting onto Zoro’s ears.
You search his features for a reaction, an expression, anything, but he was unreadable still a stranger to you. Regret simmered in your gut, maybe should’ve kept your thoughts to yourself
Before you could walk away any further from him, Zoro gripped your wrist forcing you to stay and look back at him
“I actually think you’re pretty skilled for a bird” he offered you a small lopsided smile to try and freshen the mood which you were thankful for “You’re a fearless fighter, and more capable than others in the crew, If I ever made you think any different I apologize”
A breath you didn’t know you were holding escaped your lips, grateful he wasn’t actually an ass like you had painted him to be
“You gotta watch your mouth Roronoa” you smirked back “Could’ve lost your perfect fighting partner” you pulled yourself out of his grip and walked towards the Merry
Zoros laugh ringed in your ears, something you never thought you’ll hear, at least between only you two “This means you’ll stop training by yourself and finally join me? Or are you too scared?”
A heavy weight lifted from swordsman’s shoulders, finally able to bond with you and solving the never ending mystery the haunted him because contrary to your beliefs, he always noticed the distance you drew between you and him, it ate him alive. But now, you could finally see yourselves in your true colors, enjoy your time together and grow closer
“Yeah like you scare me” you pushed him playfully a smile tugging on your lips “If you wanted to train with me so bad should’ve just asked”
Zoro rolled his eyes “Don’t get too cocky birdie, I could destroy you in a sparring session anytime”
Slowly but surely, the swordsman had once again found his way into your heart, the garden that once withered grew strong once again, and little did you knew that you had also made love bloom in his, but that was a problem to deal with another time
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
Gonna most likely make this a series ☝🏻 like always request are open and feel free to correct me English is not my first language
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kaleldobrev · 5 months
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A Big Ask
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Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Fem!Supe Reader
Summary: Ben has a big ask for you
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Cursing (7x), Implied past threesome, Canon divergence, Some fluff
Authors Note: Takes place in the 1970s (cause why not?) | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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When it came to everyone in Ben’s life, you were the only one that he would remotely listen to. Not only were you his best friend and more than occasional fuck buddy, but you were also his wrangler. The only person that could talk Ben down from beating someone into a bloody pulp for getting his coffee order wrong; the only person that could talk him into bringing you along for a team up so he didn’t get trigger happy.
You and Ben had been friends since first meeting at the inaugural Herogasm in ‘52. You were a bright eyed 18-year-old who wanted nothing more than to make a lasting impression on her two favorite Supes: Liberty and Soldier Boy; and boy did you, as the very next day, Vought called you and offered you a job.
You weren’t entirely sure as to why you were the only person Ben would remotely listen to; but, at this point, you had made the assumption that it was because you’ve been best friends with him for over 20 years — the longest friendship for both of you.
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It was a usual Sunday morning for you, as there was a hefty sounding knock at your apartment door. Stretching quickly, you jumped out of bed and grabbed your silk forest green robe, tying it at your waist before heading toward the front door.
Upon opening it, Ben appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the doorframe, holding a white Styrofoam cup in hand with your name written on the side in jet black Sharpie. “Special delivery,” Ben said, handing you the cup.
“My usual I’m assuming?” You questioned, taking the semi-hot cup from his hand. He simply looked at you dead in the eyes. “I’m kidding,” you said, playfully hitting him in the chest. “Come in,” you smiled, turning your back toward him as you walked inside.
Ben strolled right in, practically making himself at home as he shut the door behind him and kicked off his boots; not bothering to place them to the side next to the door where your boots were usually placed. Not even turning around you said, "I hope that's the sound of you putting your boots next to the door."
Ben rolled his eyes. "Yes ma'am," he said, his tone slightly annoyed. He picked up his boots, mentally cursing at you as he placed them next to the door where they originally should have gone when he walked through the door.
Taking a seat on the couch, you crossed your legs and took a good, long look at your friend. "So, what brings you here this morning?"
“Wanted to talk to you about something,” he said, taking a seat next to you on the couch.
“What is it?” You asked. The way he looked at you was different compared to all the other times he had ever looked at you. What was usually a look similar to that of longing, now looked similar to that of fearfulness. Placing a hand on his thigh, you looked him in the eyes, hoping to give him a slightly reassuring look. "Ben, you know you can tell me anything."
"I know, it's just...it's a big fucking ask Y/N," he said, his tone starting to scare you just a little. "But..." he sighed. "Hey, you still have some of that whiskey I gave you the other day?" He asked, abruptly getting up from his spot on the couch; his vocal tone completely changing of that of almost pure glee mixed with some nerves.
"Yeah...in the usual place," you replied, pointing over to your whiskey cabinet. "Ben, it's 7 in the morning."
He walked over to your whiskey cabinet and scoffed, as he took the almost full bottle from it. "Okay and? I'm Soldier Boy. I can do whatever the fuck I want."
You rolled your eyes at his comment. "Just pointing it out," you stated. And you don't do whatever the fuck you want cause I make damn sure you don't, you wanted to add. "So, what did you want to ask me? Because I'm sure it wasn't about the whiskey."
Ben grinned. "No, no. I actually do have to ask you something," he said, walking over to you. He stood over you for a second, unscrewing the bottle. "Make it Irish?" You looked up at him, not removing the lid from your coffee as you had no intention of having alcohol this early in the morning. "Give it to me." Sighing, you gave him your coffee and he removed the lid, throwing it halfway cross the room — you were never going to find that lid anytime soon — and poured a good shot and a half of whiskey into your coffee before handing it back to you.
"Wow, you shouldn't have," your voice monotone, taking back your coffee; the intense smell of whiskey now filling your nose.
"No problem Sugar," he winked before sitting back down next to you. Before he began talking, he took a giant sip. "So, Legend came up with this stupid fucking idea that I need some kind of romance storyline," he scoffed. You tried your best to prevent yourself from laughing, but you couldn't help yourself.
Ben rolled his eyes as he watched you laugh. "See? If you're fucking laughing, the world will be laughing too."
"It's...it's not the worst idea but...I feel like you're the last person that can rock that storyline, I hate to tell you," you admitted. "I'm honestly shocked that they didn't pitch that idea to me."
"The only reason Legend didn't pitch it to you is because you already have a known soft side, I apparently don't," he scoffed. "He says I need to be more relatable," he half chuckled. "Relatable my ass," he mumbled.
"You know, showing your soft side might not necessarily be a bad thing for you..." you said, slightly eyeing him.
The way he looked at you, you might of well as told him to go fuck himself. "I'm no pussy."
"Having a soft spot doesn't make you a pussy Ben," you told him. He just rolled his eyes and scoffed, taking a long swig. "Believe it or not, you already have a soft spot, and your soft spot is me."
"Huh," he half chuckled. "Who knew?" Of course he had a soft spot for you. Who wouldn't have one for you? "Then I guess I know you'll say yes to my ask then."
"If you're so confident I'll say yes, then ask me already. I swear I've gotten older since we started this conversation," you grinned.
"Alright, alright, Christ," he mumbled. "Y/N, would you do me the honor of being my fake PR girlfriend?"
You smiled. "Thought you'd never ask."
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Text
Gavin has been searching online for a long time for something that belongs to Rúben Dias. His ultimate soccer crush. Finding his way on a random auction site he stumbled across someone saying they were selling genuinely heavily worn clothes that belongs to the soccer stud himself. Immediately he bought the equipment. He was willing to take the risk. After all he needed it for the next phase of his plan.
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The box arrive quickly and with a warning and when he opened the box he could tell why. The box really did contain a heavy smell. The clothes were unwashed and they had Rúben’s smell still caked into them. A shirt. Short. Jock strap. Shoes and socks. He got a complete outfit that was previously worn by the soccer stud. Gavin wasted no time in putting the filthy clothes on. Taking extra time to smell the shoes of the soccer hunk while the crusty jock socks were placed on his feet.
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The clothes were huge compared to him. But he planned to change that. Now that he had the clothes and the smells of the jock he could his fantasies come true.
“I revoke ownership of my body I’m going for a win. Rúben Dias, make me his identical twin!”
Instantly pain shot through Gavin. He could feel his foot growing to fill the shoes. His towers widening and he could see them pushing against the fabric of the large soccer cleats. His legs began to bulk with muscle and hair just as if he had been kicking soccer balls his whole life. His waist pulled in his abs be an to form giving him a thin athletic frame. He was beginning to sweat from all the pain. He was smelling just like the real owner of the clothes he now possessed. Looking in the mirror he was watched as his face slowly shifted a beard began to grow on his jaw line as his teeth got slightly bigger. With a shudder of finality, his body went slack. Falling into his new permanent form. Her could beleive it !! He was now literally identical to the hot soccer player he listed after.
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Gavin got up and stretched his now muscular body. “Ahhh” he said in his new voice. Stretching every new muscle he would be working with for the rest of his life. Smelling the new smell he would now have. Looking through the eyes of a different viewpoint. He went to his room. He needs to see what it was like downstairs now. He felt a assocs weight in his crotch.
When he pulled his shorts down he gasped. He wasn’t disappointed. He knew Rúben was packing. But he didn’t expect to mention huge ! He began to leak pre on his dirty shoes and locks. Ot was dropped down his leg freely from his excitement. But now that he has the body of the soccer stud he needed to begin the next step of his plan.
Gravin was very familiar with the soccer studs training schedule. He waiting until late one night broke into the stadium when the star was on the field alone. He got the attention of the man who looked at him confused. Joe was he looking at homeland. This didn’t make sense !! He got closer and was in shock. And when the man was in hands reach he was so thrown off by what was going on that he didn’t he noticed the needle that was quickly plunged into his neck. Knocking out.
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Gavin wasted no time. The spell was meant to be permanent but there was a catch. And the real Rúben was going to help him fulfill it. He drug him to the locker rooms. Undressing his twin he couldn’t help but feel aroused seeing everything g he now had from his own viewpoint. The rush was intoxicating. But he had to act fast. Taking some clothes out of his back pack that smelled horribly he put them on Rúben. Chanting with excitement. “The man before me cannot be. The only twin can be me! Alter his body, give him a change. Give a look that makes him strange!” Right before Gavin the passed out Rúben began to morph into another man. His bones cracking and his look shifting to another. Now. Gavin was the only Rúben. The real Rúben. He called security and had them kick the homeless looking man out of the locker rooms.
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Every time Rúben goes to the stadium he sees the crazed homeless man with his sign. Begging for help. Pleading that people help him get his body back. He had to be kicked out of the stat room several times because he was trying to attack Rúben demanding to get his body back. But as the months passed the homeless became just another crazed man on the streets that no one beleive. This last time in the hospital he was given electroshock therapy. Now he was completely harmless. His old life finally gone and only leaving the life of the homeless man he now was.
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Gavin on the other hand took over Rúben’s life completely. He would wake up in the morning and do his workouts. He would flex his perfect body. He would bend those meaty toes. And enjoyed the smells that his new body had. And he definitely love the monster cock he was now blessed with. His life couldn’t be any better. And now that he had the perfect body. He took pride in showing it off. He loved breeding the men on his soccer team and making the worship his stinky jock feet. They would beg him to see his naked body and his massive cock and it always came with a price that his team was more than willing to pay. Everyone of them had been on their knees or bent over the locker room bench by the new and improved Rúben. And he did t plan on ever going back to “his” old ways.
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teabutmakeitazure · 1 year
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Exasperation Under The Covers
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>Yan! Chrollo x Fem! Reader
Word count: 1.2k
a/n: first time writing him. I tried making him as bastardly annoying as possible 🙏
Warning: touchy Chrollo
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You have always been in awe at how such little things can lead to such drastic outcomes. The butterfly effect, as it’s called, is something you had first found ridiculous but soon found in many places. You suppose your first encounter with it was that one singular comment from a middle school classmate which later led to more.
It’s been years, so the memory doesn’t resurface and bother you anymore, yet you remember how it tore you to shreds during your highschool years. With your parents belonging to humble backgrounds, you didn’t want to burden them more so you kept it to yourself.
Years passed, and you grew out of it. The urban city life had whisked you away and waltzed with you along the rhythm of the city folk, your parents also busy in their lives as you’ve grown up. Despite being in the same city, you did not see them frequently.
With how your job had always kept you busy, you went weeks without seeing them. What seemed like a time management issue has metamorphosed into a lifelong regret. Oftentimes, you wonder if you just fixed your timetable a bit and made the decision to exit the subway at a different stop, you wouldn’t have forgotten their faces.
That day… if you had just gotten off the damned train, you wouldn’t be scrounging up memories to complete the image of those who birthed and raised you. Perhaps you wouldn’t even be stuck like glue to his side like you are now.
One step. That is all it would have taken you. One step and you wouldn’t have been regretting it this much now.
“I thought we agreed on your full attention, [Name].”
The interruption doesn’t elicit any kind of physical reaction from you. If anything, you simply sigh and start to fidget with your hands under the cover. He takes the silence as an invitation to let his hand roam. An arm slithered around your torso, it moves from your hip and rests on your bare thigh. You can see the bump it makes in the blanket.
“You got lost. Mind telling me where?”
His question is accompanied with his fingers tapping your thigh before they settle down with a gentle squeeze. The action causes your insides to recoil. Because of how overwhelming Chrollo's touch is, you have to take a few deep breaths before you can muster up a reply.
“Nowhere,” you state. “I was simply zoning out.”
You can hear him close his book, the sound echoing in your mind. Like always, he returns your question with something that demands further explanation from you.
“Zoning out to where?”
“I was thinking that maybe I should’ve accepted wearing your shirt after all.”
Infuriatingly enough, you don’t have to look at him to know that he’s smiling.
“Oh? I thought you would do anything rather than wear what I own. You had said it yourself, dear, that you would fall sick if you smelled like me.”
“This is worse than that,” you deadpan. “Sickness is nothing when compared to irreparable emotional and psychological damage.”
“I don’t believe I dress you up that horribly.”
Horribly? This is absolutely outrageous! A single button down shirt of his would cover more skin than what this measly excuse of a dress does. Having to deal with the lingering smell of his cologne would have been nothing compared to this.
All this mental suffering just to deny one damn kiss.
“Though the idea of seeing you in my clothes instead is enticing, I’m afraid I must call out your lie first. Tell me what you were really thinking about.”
You scoff, “I was fantasising about you choking on dinner.”
“Fun, but sadly impossible. Last chance [Name].”
Another squeeze to your thigh and you almost shoot him a glare. However, you decide to not grace him with your eyes and instead keep your gaze fixed on where your hands should be under the cover. Head slowly falling back and hitting the headboard, you try your best to keep a neutral face. Chrollo is, after all, blatantly staring at you.
“I was just thinking about my parents.”
“Ah.” His ogling comes to a halt. With his other hand, he gently nudges your head to rest on his shoulder. You begrudgingly let him. Any sort of comfort is welcome for the time being.
“What brought about the reminiscence?”
You can feel his eyes on you now. Chrollo watches like a hawk, waiting for any sort of reaction to his comforting gesture. Unfortunately for him, you don’t give him any and instead answer his question.
“Tomorrow is their wedding anniversary.”
He hums. “Perhaps I should send them a gift. Their mingling did result in you after all.”
“That was a horrible joke.”
“I’ve been called the same.”
Did he just…? Nevermind. His existence is somewhat a joke in poor taste. Wait. He isn’t serious about the gift part, is he?
“You aren’t serious about that, are you?”
He rests his head on top of yours, and you internally gag.
“I’m afraid not,” he replies. “I’ve always had the feeling that my mother would have laughed after she found out she was pregnant with me.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Another squeeze and his hand travels further upwards. Goosebumps erupt on your skin as his thumb traces his initials on the inside of your thigh.
“Really? What do you mean then?”
Your heartbeat accelerates when his entire hand starts travelling up and down, the callouses on it creating uncomfortable friction. Fists clenched, all words die in your throat when he slips his hand under your thigh and lifts your leg up. With more skin accessible, his hand slithers under the hem of your dress, but you push yourself away from him immediately.
With how he easily let you go, you’re certain that he was testing your limits. Heart pounding in your ears, you scoot to the other end of the bed, pouting when you catch him staring at you again. Attempting to cover yourself to the shoulders with the blanket is unsuccessful, for he pulls the entire thing away.
“We agreed on your full attention, so you mustn't back away,” he smiles.
Ah. He’s not giving up on that, is he? But… he promised he'll return your pyjamas if you go along. He didn't say anything about your clothes as suspicious as it is. Nevertheless, a comfortable sleep is what you're after for the time being, so you must behave.
Hesitantly, you scoot back to him albeit with some distance between you both. Who knew stepping backwards when he was about to peck your cheek would lead to a silly bet like this?
Aaaand his hand is back again.
"Chrollo Lucilfer, do you not have any sort of self restraint or shame?"
He smiles, smugly tilting his head to look at you like he just won some sort of game. "A fine work of art should be admired to the fullest."
"No. You need to meditate in the forest or something. Now get your hand off me."
The smile remains and he doesn't move. Sighing, you grab his hand and remove it yourself. Before you could put it away from your person, he flicks his wrist and grabs your hand instead.
"You should know, [Name], that I typically revel in my spoils to my heart's extent. Whatever you do won't bother me. I'm a thief after all, and I always get what I want."
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seakicker · 9 months
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I’ve been writing for about ten years privately and publicly and across multiple different websites, fandoms, and eras of favorite characters. I first started writing fanfiction physically in notebooks I stashed under my bed since I didn’t own my own laptop until I was 18, lol. I had originally started writing as a means to cope with feeling like The Ugly Kid because I never had a serious relationship in my pre-teen and teenage years. I was always on the chubby side and, given fanfiction’s tendency to depict readers as extremely thin and physically much smaller than the character in question, I sought to make my own stuff that would, hopefully, alleviate some insecurities and give a place to people who felt similarly to me as a kid. Well, I also started writing because I was horny and hormonal and just wanted to fuck pixels, but that much goes without saying. 
I don’t think writing has much of a place in my current life for a variety of reasons and, despite what I said the other day, I don’t see it being a part of my future and I’m okay with that! It’s a hobby that has served me very, very well for nearly ten years (roughly half of my life now since I’m 22)— I’ve learned to like myself so much more than I ever thought I would have as a teenager, I’ve opened myself up to different ways to express myself and my sexuality, I’ve met a lot of really cool people, and I think I’ve been able to help other people out quite a bit, too. I always worry about coming off as overly pretentious or self-righteous when I talk about helping people through the power of porn fanfiction, but when I’ve received so many messages over the years about how I’ve helped other plus size people learn to feel a little more secure or how I’ve helped people feel less guilty about masturbating and enjoying sex, I think it’s a fair statement to make. I’ve had tons and tons and tons of good times as a writer, but I think reading these messages about helping other people are absolutely my favorite times to look back on. It makes me feel really good. 
I’m in a completely different stage of my life now compared to when I first started writing and I don’t think the hobby appeals to me much anymore. I do think the tumblr game of notes and numbers and interactions has stressed me out some, but it’s by no means my main motivation to hang up my hat and move on to a new era of my life. I don’t care about getting a bazillion notes or a million followers, I just like to be a slut online and help other people feel good about themselves in the process, but any person who makes content will be the first to tell you that it does hurt at least a little when you make something you’re insanely proud of and it gets an amount of likes/reblogs/kudos/comments/etc you find disproportionate to your follower count or subscriber count. Nevertheless, I try not to focus on numbers too much and, while I’m somewhat successful at that, I and many other writers and artists do feel that tumblr has a major problem with interaction, reblogs vs likes, and engagement and tumblr staff’s own decisions to introduce things like community labels certainly don’t help. 
As I said, numbers are not my main inspiration to quit. I’ve experienced near endless burnout since about January of this year where none of my ideas feel unique and original, none of them excite me, and nearly all of them make me worry that other people won’t enjoy them. It’s hard to want to write when you don’t feel like you’re making anything good, and, as I’m sure you all have noticed, I’ve taken a lot of breaks this year to hopefully get myself back in the swing of things, but I never return feeling refreshed and excited by new ideas, so that was the biggest indication to me that I’ve simply grown out of another hobby and I’m a changing person with changing interests and desires, and that’s okay! I’m emerging into a new stage of adulthood after graduating college and beginning to move out of my parents’ house, and so a shift in my hobbies and likes is to be expected. I had a conversation with another writing friend of mine who gave up writing publicly about six months ago, and my feelings sounded a lot like his, so that also suggested to me that I’m just ready to be done. 
I’m infinitely thankful to everyone who’s ever been a part of my writing journey, whether you reblogged a fic once or were a regular emoji anon who stopped in frequently. I really cherish the memories I’ve made and I was always insanely excited to see people claim new emojis, see regulars in my inbox talking to me, and read nice comments and messages. When I say that writing has been a pivotal part of my life for a decade now, I mean that in so many ways, especially in the way that it has brought so many cool and nice people to me. I’ve made mistakes and I’ve said and done things that hurt other people, and I’m grateful for the forgiveness and reconciliation others have given me just as I am thankful for all the people who have supported me throughout my online presence. 
I do feel guilty about leaving, but you guys deserve a proper goodbye instead of me putting my blog on hiatus again and just leaving it there to sit. I’d like to formally leave instead of just going dormant or disappearing, and this is that formal departure. I’ve had thoughts of quitting in the past, but those were when I was already feeling upset with other things in my life so I knew they weren’t real, but I’ve been thinking about this consistently for about four months now in clear mindsets and headspaces so I know it’s a little more real. I put myself on hiatus this last month to really think about it and, while it’s natural to go back and forth on such a decision and try to talk myself out of it, I really am ready and I don’t feel like I need to convince myself to stay when I’m not happy with my content. I owe you guys regularity and consistency, and I’ve failed to be a consistent writer or poster these past few months or so, and I’m sorry for that. I’ve talked about it a lot with my boyfriend and my close friends, and I feel it’s best for me to move on now and try some new things! I’m excited for this next stage of my life as I seek out a new career, look to move in with my boyfriend and get out of my parents’ place, and maybe get engaged too ☺️ 
My tumblr and AO3 will remain up with the same usernames and whatnot. I can’t even thank you guys enough for everything you’ve given me in the past years. I’m happy to call you guys friends and the “parasocial BAD!!!!!” debate that pops up in fandom circles needs to stfu because building a friendship with your audience and allowing yourself to be human with human feelings instead of some blank figure behind a screen is literally normal, lol. When people say nice things to you, it’s normal for it to feel good. When people say rude things to you, it’s normal for it to feel bad. 
Thank you for 10 years of love and thank you for reading! 
💛💛 Juju
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ps think of me whenever you see pregnancy
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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months
Text
Betrayal part 2:
Synopsis: Sam and Dean are at odds after what happened, and Sam tried to make up for his mistakes
Author’s note: not my best work, but I wanted to wrap up the fic a little more, so enjoy!
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Sam had never wanted to share a bed so badly in his life. In all the years that he and Dean had been responsible for you, it was always a good day when he got a motel bed to himself. He and Dean would trade on and off with who had to share a bed with you, and who got a bed to himself.
But now, it had been two weeks since the demon blood incident. Fourteen nights, and each and every one of them you slept in Dean’s bed, even after Sam had completely detoxed from demon blood.
Sam was beginning to wonder if it was you choosing this, too scared to be that close to Sam without Dean in between you, or if it was Dean, too angry at Sam to trust him near you.
Either way, each night was just a reminder of how completely and utterly he had screwed up. He couldn’t decide what was worse; his own guilt eating away at him, the way you seemed to gravitate towards Dean whenever Sam got too close, like you were looking for protection, or the way that Dean refused to let you anywhere alone with Sam. And Dean was barely speaking to him, which was also pretty bad. Dean wasn’t one to hold grudges, at least not against family. But this was different. If Sam had failed you somehow, that would’ve been one thing. But this was so much worse. Failing you as a big brother would’ve been letting you get hurt somehow. But what he did…
He didn’t let you get hurt. He hurt you.
That wasn’t something he was ever going to forgive himself for. But a little part of him was still holding out hope that Dean could forgive him. He wasn’t worried about you forgiving him, he was pretty sure you already had, which almost made him feel worse. The idea that you could forgive him so quickly, before you’d even stopped having nightmares about what he’d done to you, just made him feel even more like a monster for hurting you.
Dean, however, wasn’t about to let this slide. There was nothing Sam could do except try his best to make up for what he’d done, although he had no idea how.
“Hey, we gotta case,” Sam snapped out of his thoughts just in time to catch John’s journal that Dean had thrown at him.
“What is it?”
Dean shrugged into a jacket, “Not sure. Three mysterious deaths, only about an hour away. I’m gonna go talk to the families, you do some research.”
Sam noticed you putting your coat on and frowned.
“And she’s going with you?”
Dean turned, “Yeah, and?”
Sam scoffed.
“Well she’s a little young to pass for an agent.”
“So she’ll wait in the car.”
Sam glanced at you. You didn’t seem ready to jump into the conversation, so he kept going.
“Or she could stay here. Work on homework, help me with research. It’d be easier for everyone.”
Dean placed a hand on your back, leading you out the door.
“Nah, she’s fine. Have fun.”
The door slammed shut before Sam could protest.
Sam was ready and waiting with everyone’s favorite fast food order when you and Dean returned to the motel.
Dean gave him a gruff nod, but Sam grinned when you smiled at him. Any little thing that showed him you were coming around was basically Christmas morning. Well, not his definition of Christmas morning, but a normal person’s.
Sam and Dean compared notes on the case while you sat on one of the beds watching tv. By the time the boys were done, Sam looked over to see you fast asleep.
Dean stood, heading for the bed, but Sam grabbed his arm.
“You should get your own bed,” he insisted. “You need a good night’s rest, you did all the leg work today.”
Dean shrugged his hand off.
“I’m fine.”
Sam scoffed, “It’s more than that, Dean. You can trust me with her.”
Dean gritted his teeth.
“I would’ve thought so too, two weeks ago.”
“Dean, I’ve apologized for that a thousand different times, an-and I’m trying to make up for it! Let me do that.”
Dean stepped away from Sam and sat next to your sleeping form on the bed.
“No, Sam. You do what you think you should, try to make amends if it’ll make you feel better. But that won’t include asking me to trust you. Not after this, not until I say so. You don’t get to make that call.”
Sam dragged his hand over his face, dropping his head so he wouldn’t have to look Dean in the eye.
“Alright, yeah. Your call.”
Sam awoke to the jarring feeling of someone shaking his shoulder. He bolted up to a sitting position, eyes scanning for some kind of danger. Instead, he vaguely made out your figure in the darkness, standing beside his bed. He remained alert, unsure of why you would’ve come to him.
If you were in danger, surely you would’ve just woken Dean, who wasn’t even six inches away from you. The soft sound of your crying made him feel both relieved and hurt. If there was a danger, you’d be yelling, not crying, but he’d really prefer neither to be happening.
“Baby, what is it?” Sam kept his voice quiet, not wanting to wake Dean.
“The demons…the demons got you,” you were trying to whisper, but the lump in your throat made it hard to get the words out quietly. “And-and you wouldn’t wake up, and I-I thought…” you broke off, your whole body shaking as you tried to breathe through your sobbing.
“Hey, hey,” Sam pulled you into his arms, letting you climb up on the bed with him. “It was a dream, you were dreaming, honey. I’m ok, I’m just fine.”
“You wouldn’t wake up,” Sam felt you fisting his shirt in your hands, pulling him as close as possible.
“It’s ok, I’m awake. I’m sorry, N/N, I must’ve been sleeping pretty deeply.” Deep sleep was a pretty rare occurrence for him, and he was annoyed that now was the time for it to happen. How long had you been trying to wake him up, afraid that he was dead?
“It felt so real,” your tears had stopped, but you still clung to Sam with all your strength. He held you as though you were made of glass, too afraid to hold you tightly. Perhaps he was too used to being treated as dangerous.
“I know it did, I know,” Sam rested his chin on top of your head. “But it wasn’t. I’m ok. You should go back to sleep.”
You shifted in his arms, turning your head up to look at him.
“Can I stay here?”
If you weren’t so distressed, he would’ve grinned.
“Of course you can.”
He tried to lay back on the bed, and his stomach twisted when he noticed that you wouldn’t let go of him, not even for a second. He didn’t pull you away, instead he held you tighter and struggled a bit to lay down with you still in his arms. He didn’t want to scare you anymore than you already were, so if that meant letting you Velcro yourself to him, that was alright by him.
Once he was settled back on his pillows, he felt you shift so that your head was resting in the middle of his chest. He felt your whole body instantly relax, and he knew you must be listening to his heartbeat. He kept his arms around you, almost as comforted by your presence as you were by his.
To think that you were ok with being this vulnerable around him, even if it was because of your nightmare, made him think that maybe, just maybe, everything would be ok again.
Dean awoke with the sense that something was off, and it took him a moment to realize what. He was alone in the bed.
He forced himself to remain calm as he scanned the hotel room. Surely you were around here somewhere.
His brief look around gained him nothing, so he quickly stepped out of bed and did a thorough sweep of the room. Nothing; even the bathroom was empty. He was about to head out to see if you’d gone outside to stretch your legs, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
A flash of Y/H/C nestled under Sam’s chin, the lump under the blanket too big to be just him. When Dean stepped closer, he saw your face, leaning against Sam’s chest, the two of you breathing softly, almost in sync.
At first he was taken aback, then confused, then torn. He still didn’t trust Sam, he couldn’t, not after what he’d done to you. Dean was determined to keep you at arm’s length from Sam, and he was even more determined to keep you close to himself. He hadn’t been watching you closely enough, and that was why Sam was able to hurt you in the first place. He wouldn’t let that happen again.
But at the same time, there was only so much he could do if you were this determined to forgive Sam. If you were this ready to just hop into Sam’s bed and fall asleep next to him, without Dean’s protection between you and Sam, how was Dean supposed to protect you?
He didn’t have long to ponder his dilemma, however, because just then Sam started to stir, and you let out a soft whine when he sat up, dislodging you from your comfortable place using him as a pillow.
“Sorry,” Sam mumbled as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes, turning his head to look at Dean. “Hey. We got any new leads?”
Dean just shook his head, his eyes still trained on you as you sat up groggily, rubbing your face.
Sam followed Dean’s line of sight before turning back to his brother, shrugging and mouthing, ‘nightmare’.
Dean resisted the urge to grit his teeth. A nightmare? He should’ve expected that would be the reason, but lately your nightmares had been about Sam hurting you. So why had you gone to him?
“Can we get breakfast? I’m starving,” you mumbled, slipping off the bed and walking up to Dean. Dean couldn’t help the way his body relaxed when you were close to him, close enough so he could protect you if he had to. He was really starting to hate this part of him; somewhere, deep inside, he knew that Sammy wouldn’t hurt you, but Dean’s protective nature wouldn’t let him let go of the image in his head, the image of your blood running down Sam’s chin, seeing you cry out to your big brother to help you, only for him to hurt you.
He wanted to trust Sam again, he really did. But that image was seared into his brain, and as long as it remained there, so did Dean’s instinct to jump between you and Sam any chance he got.
“Dean?” Dean blinked as your hand waved in front of his face. “You ok?”
Dean cleared his throat, a light smile coming to his face.
“Yeah, I’m good. Look, we got some work to do here, so why don’t you grab us some stuff from the vending machine for breakfast, alright?”
Dean handed you a few dollars, and you shrugged and left to find some food.
“When did she…” Dean barely waited for the motel room door to close before he turned to Sam.
“I don’t know, middle of the night sometime. Look, I know you don’t want me near her, but she was really freaked. I wasn’t about to push her away.”
Dean shook his head, “No, and I wouldn’t want you to.”
“Ok,” Sam sighed. “So what do you want?”
“I don’t know. I know I want her to be safe.”
“She is,” Sam’s voice was resolute. “She’s safe with me, I promise. Look, I know how bad I screwed up. I know I hurt her. I would do anything, anything, to undo that, but I can’t. And I know you’re never going to forget this, and that’s fine, because neither am I. I can live with that. But what I can’t live with, is you keeping her away from me. I need to show her, and you, that I’m sorry. And that this is never gonna happen again. So, do what you have to do, hate me, keep me in the doghouse forever, but just…just don’t keep her away from me.”
“I wasn’t trying to take her away from you,” Dean stood, checking out the window to make sure you weren’t coming back yet. “I just needed…” Dean dropped his gaze from Sam’s penetrating stare. “I need to keep her close, Sam. You think you’re the only one who screwed up here? You were in detox, and I didn’t watch her close enough.”
“Dean, it’s not your-“
“Yes, yes it is my fault,” Dean interrupted Sam before he could finish the thought. “You were unhinged, and unpredictable, and I didn’t keep her close enough. And she got hurt. I can’t let that happen again, she won’t get hurt on my watch, never again.”
Sam nodded, “Ok. I mean, I don’t agree with you but I get what you mean. So what, you just can’t let her be alone with me, ever? Because you think that-“
“No!” Dean cleared his throat, trying to calm himself before he spoke again. “No. I’m just saying…I’m not trying to shun you from her life. Just know that…and if I start to get a bit overprotective, or if I don’t let you near her sometimes…I just wanted you to know that it’s not all you. It’s not just you that I don’t trust, it’s me.”
Sam gave Dean a melancholy smile.
“Ok then. I get it.”
Dean nodded.
“Ok. So…I’ll try to give you a little more room with her, but you gotta let me be protective sometimes.”
Sam’s smile turned real.
“Deal. Hey, I understand protecting her. I’m her big brother too.”
Dean returned the smile, “I suppose you are.”
The door to the motel room opened, and you entered with an armload of snacks.
“Sorry it took so long, the close one was busted to I had to walk all the way around.”
Dean ruffled your hair and snatched up a bag of pretzels.
“Thanks, squirt.”
You looked between the two brothers, and they knew that you were sensing the difference in atmosphere already.
“You guys good?”
Sam smiled at you and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, reaching over you to grab his own snack. He was happy to see that Dean didn’t tense in the slightest.
“Yeah. Yeah, we’re just fine.”
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arc-misadventures · 11 months
Text
An Answer That Leads to More Questions
Jeanne: Uhh… Wasn’t it just going to be the four of us?
Juniper: Yes, but your sisters caught wind of our conversation so they demanded they be involved, and considering your secrets have included them to some capacity, I have elected that they can, and should join us for this conversation. Is that okay.
JJ: Perfectly.
Juniper: Okay, you may now begin.
Jaune: Okay, but first: What we’re about to say doesn’t leave this family. Second, suspend your feelings of disbelief. And, thirdly, save all your questions for the end.
Angela: Why should we suspend our…?!
Jaune: Save your question for the end!
Angela: Sorry.
Jaune: Haa… Okay, I’ll go first, unless?
Jeanne: I’ll interject when it seems appropriate.
Jaune: That works. Alright… This is the second life I have lived. In my first life I had seven sisters, and two parents. The same nine individuals you see before you, bar, Jeanne. Jeanne was not one of my sisters in my past life.
Jeanne: This my second life; In my first life I had the same parents we all have, Juniper, and Archeius Arc, but I had seven brothers, instead of seven sisters. And, Jaune was not one of my brothers in my past life.
Jaune: We lived two separate lives in two separate worlds of, Remnant. The worlds were mostly the same, but there were differences that allowed us to tell the difference between the two. The main factor was that most people in my world were of the opposite gender compared to, Jeanne’s. And, more importantly everything didn’t go to hell in her world as my did in mine.
Jeanne: We only knew about the existence of these parallel worlds because the two of us would randomly swap places with each other with no warning.
Jaune: We simply called the times when we switched places, A Swap. We would spend an indeterminate of time there, then randomly we would appear in a room we called, The White Room. Because everything was white. There we would meet up, chat, and randomly swap back. The randomness of the swaps caused us most of the problems we had with the swaps…
Jeanne: Yeah, I could be laying in my bed one moment, then I’m sitting at a desk in the cafeteria the next.
Jaune: Or, being grabbed by a, Beringel one moment where you’re about to slam your sword through the damn thing’s skull, only to slash through a plate of mashed potatoes in the cafeteria, covering everyone in said mash potatoes.
Jeanne: Confessing how much you’re in love to girl of your dreams, only to say it to a completely different person. And, told that your confession was pathetic so you spend the rest of your time trying to come up with something better instead.
Jeanne: Coming out of the, White Room to suddenly seen your teammates head has been shoved through a wall… again.
Jaune: Getting pelted in the face with a cream pie nanoseconds as you come back from the, White Room.
Jeanne: I got decked in the face one time because of that.
Jaune: My personal favourite was when I was having a conversation with someone outside, only to scream at her that no I did not ask her alternative universes male counterpart how big his dick was. Only to realize I said that in the middle of a classroom full of people.
Jeanne: These were just some of the more… pleasant times we experienced during our, Swaps.
Jaune: Pleasant for you! During our first swap, I was attacked; I was punched in the chest, tied up, was thrown about with a semblance, had a 50. cal pointed at my head, punched in the gut again, and then I was thrown into a cell in the depths of, Beacon Academy! All because I had somehow kidnapped their precious, Angel…
Saphron: Angel?
Jeanne: That was just a nickname I got because of my semblance’s abilities.
Jaune: You know damn well it was because of that smile you use on people!
Jeanne: Shut up.
Jaune: Don’t you try, and deny it, you flashed them that angelic smile once, they gave you tea, and cookies while I got a black eye!
Jeanne: Hehe… Because of me, and my influence most people didn’t like, Jaune in my world.
Jaune: Or, in mine either. Well, I think most people tolerated me in my world. After meeting, Jeanne they gave up hiding it, and outright showed their hostility, and indifference towards me.
Jeanne: Even our… well, my parents didn’t like you…
Jaune: Not even my parents liked me! Well, they didn’t have faith in me, which is debatably the same thing if you ask me. They offered you all the proper training, and equipment to become a, Huntress. Mine gave me encouraging words that it will be okay when I come home when I fail. Notice how I said, when, not if.
Jeanne: Well at least your team at, Beacon believed in you.
Jaune: Aye, but your presence made everyone else who believed in me cast me to the side. Hell, those bitches outright said it to my face, and acted like I wasn’t even there!
Jeanne: Well you ruined my relationship with people too just by showing up too!
Jaune: And, was that a bad thing?!
Jaune: …
Jaune: No seriously; Was that a bad thing? You broke off all contact with them yourself. Hell, you even got your partner kicked off your team because of me.
Jeanne: …
Jeanne: Well… After you showed up, they did show their true colours, and show me that they were after me because they were in love with the image of, Jeanne Arc, and not the person who was, Jeanne Arc.
Jeanne: You don’t suppose their actions made me gay do you?
Jaune: No, you’re bisexual. Seeing, and dealing with their antics just tainted the possibility of you developing any kind of relationship with them; Platonic, or sexual.
Jeanne: I developed standards?
Jaune: Pretty much.
Jeanne: So my standards are you then~?
Jaune: …
Jaune: So, anyway the, Vytal Festival happened…
Jeanne: Coward.
Jaune: And, while the festival was ending, we were… I… I don’t think I should tell you what happened.
Juniper: Why not?
Jaune: Well… If I tell you something happened… Will it then happen?
Thiriana: Like in those stories where someone is told their fate, and they do everything they can to change their fate, but their attempt to change their fate they’ve sealed themselves to their fate?
Jaune: Precisely. I’m worried if I let something slip it could happen, and my life in my world was hell…
Jeanne: But, this isn’t my world, or your world at that, Jaune. There are already many differences in it, sure there are similarities, but they are not all the same. We can tell them, just not everything in extreme detail, okay?
Jaune: …
Jaune: We won’t tell them the names of people then. Otherwise things could get… difficult.
Jeanne: Good plan.
Angela: Soooo… What happened at the, Vytal Festival?
Jeanne: Well in my world my team competed in the Vytal Festival, and I managed to lead my team to victory! Even after we reformed our team a few weeks before!
Acheius: Impressive. You two will be in school when the next festival takes place; you two planning on entering?
Jeanne: We will destroy all those who stand before us!
Acheius: …
Acheius: Sweet.
Thiriana: I take it things weren’t as nice as that in your world, Jaune?
Jaune: We… We were attacked…
Angela: I don’t take it you’re talking about during a match?
Jaune: No… Vale was attacked… This shadow organization caused an attack that lead to the destruction of, Beacon Academy, and the deaths of hundreds.
Juniper: Oh gods…
Luna: Y-You were there when it happened…?!
Jaune: I was there… I fought during the, Fall. That’s… that’s what we called that day, The Fall. It was hell, Grimm roming the streets of, Vale, hordes of them pouring through, Beacon… So much, death, and destruction. I lost people there too, people I loved… People I was going to ask out on dates… But… They died that day too…
Angela: It was, Pyrrha… Pyrrha Nikos…
Jaune: What?
Angela: You said, “I don’t want to lose her again.” You said that when we talked about, Pyrrha Nikos.
Jaune: …
Jaune: It was, Pyrrha Nikos… She was my partner at, Beacon. We could have been more than that as well… but…
Luna: Oh, my god…
Janette: H-How did she die…? To the, Grimm?
Jaune: She was murdered… she sacrificed herself to defeat the villain who orchestrated the fall of, Beacon Academy. She failed though…
Juniper: Is this why you’re always training so harshly, and pushing, Jeanne to fight more smart, and honing her skills?
Jaune: Ehhh…?
Jeanne: That’s just playing smart. I wasn’t that good when I entered, Beacon. I was good enough to enter, but I was never that good. Besides, most of our training is us trying to get back into the same fighting shape we had in our primes.
Juniper: Then all the times you kissed the dirt… You were used to fighting as an adult, not a teenager. That’s why you kept falling!
Jeanne: Yep! That’s it! I’m no where near as tall, or as big as I was back then.
Saphron: How tall were you?
Jeanne: I’m about, 5’7” right now. I peaked at, 6’2”.
Thiriana: And, what do you mean by, big?
Jeanne: Double G Cup~!
Janette: What?! Bullshit!
Thiriana: Nice~!
Angela: Did you seriously become that big?
Jeanne: Don’t worry, I won’t be the biggest among us.
Luna: Who will be?
Jeanne: Thiri, Double H Cup.
Thiriana: FUCK YEAH!
Juniper: Oh my… She’ll be as big as me.
Jaune: Yeah, you lot can go to that store, and get those heavy duty support bra’s then.
Arc Sister’s: What bra store?
Jeanne: I’ll tell you later.
Juniper: What did you do after that, Jaune?
Jaune: Went to, Mistral, fought some guys, saved, Minstral. Then I went to, Atlas, became a licensed Huntsman, tried to save it, but then Atlas, and Mantle were destroyed. As I was trying to get everyone out of there, and get them to, Vaccuo, I fell off of this magical walk way, and fell into the, Ever After. Got stuck there for like… twenty years before I was reunited with my friends. Deaged back into my teenage self, and then I finally got out of there, and… And… I should stop… talking…
Arc Family: …
Jaune: …
Jeanne: …
Jeanne: They’re taking this better than I thought.
Acheius: Okay… Uhhh… W-What about you; What did you do, Jeanne?
Jeanne: Evading eh? Okay then. Well, I was still at, Beacon. But, my team was going through a major shift. You see one of my teammates his name was, Pyrros Nikos.
Angela: Pyrros? Was this your version of, Pyrrha Nikos?
Jeanne: Yep. He wasn’t as nice of a person as, Pyrrha is…
Juniper: What did he do…
Jeanne: Nothing to me! Though I wish he would have tried…
Juniper: What?!
Jeanne: H-H-He tried to force my friend/teammate to give him a kiss because he was, Pyrros Nikos! If he did it to me I would have decked him! That’s it! I swear!
Juniper: I see…
Jeanne: I would have broken his aura, and his face for doing that to my sister! But, Jaune beat me to it…
Acheius: Defending your sister’s honour? Good on you son!
Jaune: Ah-hahaaa… No… That’s not why I did that…
Acheius: Then why did you?
Jaune: Ohh… My, Beacon was a, Grimm infested hellhole, while hers was perfectly fine. Dealing with all the trauma I got from, The Fall. Pyrros, and a few other people who tormented me in, Jeanne’s world. Well… I just sorta snapped.
Jeanne: I’ll say; you broke their auras, broke their bones, shattered their egos, and were a huge turned on for, Rin!
Jaune: Jeanne?! No names!
Jeanne: Oh… Sorry…
Saphire: Rin; Who’s, Rin?
Jeanne: She’s is…! Was… my teammate in my previous life.
Juniper: What was she like?
Jeanne: I can’t talk about her… Whole alternative universe possibilities thingy.
Juniper: I understand. But, was she special?
Jeanne: Not in the way you think. But, yeah… she was…
Jaune: Don’t worry, Jeanne, we’ll see her again.
Jeanne: Hopefully… So, after that, I got a new partner, who I eventually married, hopefully you’ll get to meet her soon. I graduated, Beacon at the top of my class. And, I lived out a nice full life before I died at the age of one hundred, and three.
Jaune: Wait? You lived till you were a hundred, and three?! Wow… I didn’t know that.
Jeanne: I don’t like talking about my death. I have to bring up your death if I did, which I am still uncomfortable talking about.
Luna: Uhh… H-How did you die, Jaune?
Jaune: Murder suicide. I sacrificed myself to kill the bitch who murdered, Pyrrha.
Arc Family: YOU WHAT?!!
Jaune: So, that’s about it. The floors open for questions! Bar those about my death, there’s too much I would have to explain to explain that.
Juniper: You’re not getting out of it that easily young man.
Jaune: Watch me. Yes, Angela?
Angela: Okay, why should we believe you? I mean… This… thing, as ludicrous as it sounds. It explains… a lot about the oddities you two have done. But, why should we believe you? Everything you’ve said is about things that could happen, and that only happened to you two. Why should we believe you?
Jaune: Fair. I wouldn’t believe you either if I said that to you. So how about this… Saphron?
Saphron: Oh no…
Jaune: You have a secret girlfriend. Her name is, Terra Cotta, she has brown skin, brown eyes, and brown hair. She wears red glasses, and is as tall as you are. She lives in, Argus, and works as an, Atlassian Telecommunications Specialist. She was living in an apartment until recently because bought herself a nice little house at, 118th Street West, house number 3. As soon as she did this she sent you a message asking if you wanted to move in with her. You said yes almost immediately, but you scared to tell the rest of us that you are planning on moving out to be with your girlfriend.
Saphron: How the… How the fuck do you know all of that?! I haven’t told anyone that!
Jaune: You told me, but just not yet.
Juniper: Wait… Saphron… I-Is this true?
Saphron: I would have preferred to say this on my own terms, but yes… Yes this is all true… I was planning on moving out next month to be with her.
Juniper: Oh my… This is… Oh gods…
Acheius: Looks like they’re telling the truth, Juniper.
Juniper: Huw?! Oh yeah, they’re telling the truth… But, my baby wants to move out?! Oh gods…?!
Luna: She’s more concerned with the fact, Saphron wants to move out, then the fact the twins are reincarnaters…
Angela: This… This isn’t all that surprising honestly.
Saphron: Was she like this when I told her?
Jaune: More, or less.
Saphron: Ahh… Peachy… So, if you know about my girlfriend, what else do you know about her; any little hints you could give me?
Jeanne: Bar the fact I was super jealous of you for things I cannot explain. No.
Saphron: Why not?
Jeanne: Because if I did, it may not happen.
Saphron: Eh?
Saphire: Are you talking about how in stories people are given a prophecy of their future fate, and said fate is something they wish to prevent so they do everything in their power to ensure it, but that only makes it enviable?
Jeanne: Yeah, pretty much that.
Acheius: So that’s why you’ve been keeping secrets; you scared of what might happen.
Jaune: That, and we may be taken to a psych-ward, and locked up.
Acheius: Fair.
Juniper: What are the differences between this… universe, and yours.
Jeanne: Mostly small stuff. The Headmistress of Beacon is Selma, it was a guy in, Jaune’s world. In my world the, White Fang was a peaceful organization, or at least, it always was, instead of the radical race supremacists terrorist they are now.
Jaune: I didn’t have a uncle in my world, least, not that I know of. Uncle Roman wasn’t… Well actually bar the fact we’re related there is not much difference between the two.
Jeanne: I had an aunt in my world. I miss her.
Jaune: And, Winter Schnee isn’t our potential sister. So yeah, we have just as many similarities as differences in this life. So, we are refraining from telling what happened in our worlds because, well, we don’t know what may happen in this world.
Saphire: So then, in the book series I wanted you to read, Ninjas of Love. You said you didn’t want to read it, was that because you’ve already read it in your past life?
Jaune: Yes, you forced me to read it, and before you ask for my opinions, the entire series, eight books of nothing, but utter smutty trash!
Saphire: Eight books?! There’s only four out right now! It’s getting more; tell me when?!
Jaune: Oops…
Jeanne: Does that mean I have to read more of that trash?! Aww man…
Jaune: You’ve been reading that trash?!
Jeanne: She keeps using those puppy dog eyes on me, I have no resistance to it!
Jaune: Weak.
Jeanne: Shut up. Any questions?
Juniper: Yes; The reason you two are so well skilled with your chosen weapons, and in fact knew exactly what kind of weapons, and armour you wanted is because you had this gear in your previous life?
Jaune: Yep, I had all the same gear in my past life.
Jeanne: Same.
Acheius: And, the reason you’re so tactically minded, Jaune is because of all the battles you fought right.
Jaune: I’ve always had a tactical mind, I’ve just sharpened it over the years.
Angela: Have you made any plans on what you’re going to do in this life?
Jeanne: A few. Since we don’t know what’s going to happen in this life we’re mostly just waiting to see what happens, and go from there.
Angela: What do you have planned?
Jeanne: Mostly reuniting with our old friends, and having the relationships we didn’t get to have in that life.
Saphire: What kind of relationship?
Jaune: Some will be romantic if you must know.
Saphire: How many?
Jaune: Myself? More than one at the least, you, Jeanne?
Jeanne: You, and one other person. I’ll probably have a relationship with the other members of your inevitable harem.
Jaune: Well, considering who may be involved that should be a given.
Juniper: Do I get grandkids out of your harem?
Jeanne: Jaune gave you your first grandkid in my life! She was absolutely gorgeous!
Juniper: The other me’s male version of the other me’s Jeanne was the first one to give me a grandchild? What were those kids doing?!
Jeanne: That’s what I was thinking too! Jaune already had an adorable nephew in his world! I didn’t have shit until he knocked up my partner!
Angela: Wait, you knocked up her partner? Was this during a… You called it a, ‘Swap’ right?
Jaune: Yeah, I knocked her up during a, ‘Swap.’ It was consensual mind you! She saw me, and practically pounced me. It’s always the quiet ones… Whoo!
Thiriana: But, why did she do that?
Jaune: Uhh… Jeanne?
Jeanne: She was an orphan who lost her family at a young age like so many others. So, she confessed to always wanting to be a mother, and having a family of her own one day when she grew up. When the swaps started happened she was one of a few people that was always kind to, Jaune so the two managed to bound. But, what really caused her to fall for you was that time you saved her on a mission. We were dealing with a bunch of bandits, and Rin was captured. They were about to… do things to her, when we swapped. I was trying to negotiate with them to get her back, but when we met up in the, ‘White Room,’ Jaune was there covered in blood. He told me she was safe, she was fine. Her clothes were a little torn, but she was safe. When I came back, she was standing before me with a faint blush on her face. I teased her relentlessly about her crush on, Jaune for months, until one day, after another swap, and meeting in the, ‘White Room.’ Jaune confessed to knocking her up. After that, she dropped out of, Beacon, me, and my team went home, and left her with you to help raise their child. She eventually grew up to become a exemplary huntress, and proud mother in her own right. Haaa… I miss them…
Juniper: You’ll see them, again, Jeanne. I know you will.
Jeanne: I know. I just don’t want to wait longer.
Thiriana: So she fell for, Jaune because he was the whole, ‘knight in shining white armour?’
Jeanne: Yes, but the beard, and wolf tail certainly helped.
Acheius: You grew a beard; Was it any good?
Jaune: Better than yours; It may have been an unkempt mess because I couldn’t shave it in years, but the ladies certainly liked it.
Acheius: Well, the lady certainly liked mine! Right dear~?
Juniper: No I…?!
Jaune: No she didn’t! If mom had a son you had to shave it off, that was the bet you two made, and thank gods you lost it!
Jeanne: Yeah, that thing was hideous.
Acheius: Y-You remember that…?!
Jaune: I remember it.
Jeanne: We both remember it…
Juniper: You you two were just born?! How can you remember that?!
Jeanne: Hell if I know.
Jaune: The gods are a punch of dicks, what more can we say about why this all happened.
Angela: Gods, don’t you mean goddesses?
Jaune: No… wasn’t this world run by two brother gods…?
Angela: No, the legends say it was run by two sister goddesses.
Jaune: …
Jaune: Well the moon’s still broken; so instead of a punch of gods who are massive dicks, they’re a bunch of bitches.
Angela: They broke the moon?!
Jaune: And, they’re assholes, moving on!
Jeanne: Any questions?
Juniper: Does anyone…?
Arc Family: No. I’m good. Too much to think about to ask really.
Juniper: Okay… I guess that’s it. We’ll just ask you if there’s anything we think about.
Jeanne: Okay, that’s fine…
Jaune: I guess that’s it. We’ll talk later. Family meeting adjured.
Luna: Wait! One question?
Jaune: Haa… And, what’s that?
Luna: What’s the next winning lottery numbers?!
Jaune: …
Jeanne: …
Arc Family: …
Luna: What?
Jeanne: All these fascinating things could, and did happen to us, and you want to know lottery numbers?!
Luna: Yes…?
Jaune: Haaa…
Jaune: 40-21-588.
Luna: Fuck yeah! See you guys latter, momma’s gonna become rich! Hahahaha!!!
Acheius: A-Are those seriously the winning lottery numbers…?
Jaune: Nope. I just wanted to mess with her.
Jeanne: Nice~!
Acheius: Oh, okay then…
///
Ughhh… It’s done… It’s finally done!
I couldn’t finish this for weeks, but it’s finally done! Not my best, but it is done.
Enjoy~!
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hererafjastori · 5 months
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The movie Barbie in Princess and the Pauper is deeply misunderstood. In this essay I will…
No but like, seriously. I have come across too many people making fun of “I’m just like you” and fundamentally misunderstanding both the meaning of the song, and Annalise as a character, by acting like Annalise is a rich brat who doesn’t know to be grateful for what she has. So we are going to take an in-depth look at the song, Annalise, Erika, their situations and their character, and make a few things clear.
Let’s start with the above mentioned song, and the widespread opinion, that the girls and the movie act like there is no difference between Annelise living in constant luxury, and Erika suffering the life of an indentured servant. But what is happening has a lot more nuance.
First of: Annelise is not the instigator for this compare and contrast. Note how it’s Erika who starts comparing their lives, not Annelise, who reacts very perplexed. Annelise would have been fine with Erika never figuring out she was a princess, and only starts talking about the luxuries that being a princess grants her, after Erika prompts her. This is not Annalise bragging about her life, downplaying the privilege she enjoys or whining about how hard her situation is. This is her replying to Erikas enquire by both, acknowledging the vast difference there is between their lives, but also by underlining the ridiculousness that is such luxury. We can see later, in the movie, when Erika gets her breakfast, that there are no fucking minstrels. And Erika is totally on board with that, she even plays around with her, look at the way she interacts with the ‘omelet’ Analise presents her with. And later in the song, Erika acknowledges that the ‘married to a total stranger’ situation sucks.
But let’s take a look at the ways they recognize that they are the same. What are their similarities?
“I’m just like you, you’re just like me, there’s somewhere else we’d rather be. Somewhere that’s ours, somewhere that dreams come true, yes I am a girl like you. You’d never think, that it was so, but now I’ve met you and I know. […] ”
“I would never tell my mother. I wouldn’t wanna disappoint her.” “I completely understand.”
“[…]We take responsibility. We carry through, do what we need to do, yes I am a girl like you […] It’s something anyone can see. A heart that beats, a voice that speaks the truth”
So, what are their stated similarities:
They are in a situation they desperately want to escape. They see no option of realizing their dreams and fulfilling their desires or even have a perspective of leading a happy life.
Others lean, depend on and draw from their strength, so they have little to no opportunity of sharing that burden
They recognize that there is a reason they have these duties, and their conscience won’t allow them to even try and shirk said duties. They take up this responsibility that they never wanted, fully aware of the sacrifices that they will have to make.
Throughout it all, they make the active choice not to complain, to stay optimistic, to not loose hope and to carry their burden with dignity and integrity
Nobody disputes that they life very different lives. The first minute of their interaction makes that abundantly clear. Erika even sings “You’d never think that it was so”. Them coming from very different places was never up for debate. What they are comparing is the way they deal with it.
This willingness to endure under the pressure and expectations placed upon them without allowing to loose themselves, is the very core of both of these characters!
And we can see all of this throughout the movie, especially in ‘Free’.
[1] I don’t think I have to explain Erika. We see the direness of her situation in the way Mdm. Karp treats her the times she finds her singing, her threatening to use the excuse of interest to keep her prisoner for basically the rest of her life, the way she treats Annelise, thinking she is talking to Erika after she fled, the fact that she locks her seamstresses in often enough, that there is a routine in place to allow at least Wolfie an escape.
But Annalise is just as worked to the bone as Erika, if in a different way. Her day is planned through, down to the literal minute. Just listen to the start of Free. Her greatest wish is to have one day without work, because she hasn’t had that in living memory. And yes, most of it is studies and keeping up appearances, but in “to be a princess” we get an impression of how much thought and energy that takes. (“be charming, but detached and yet amused […] Never be confused”, “Never fall, don’t ever stray from protocol. All through the day, there’s just one way you must behave” “Never crack” “Never show a thing you feel inside. Glide.” “to be a princess is to never get to rest” “Never squirm […] Speak and be clever, never at a loss for words” “Never show dismay and be there when people call, be prepared whatever royal life may bring” “Never ever turn your back. There’s a time and place and way for everything”)
She has to be flawless, confident, and composed throughout the day without the  slightest hint of being imperfect. She has little to no privacy, she is constantly observed, perceived, judged by far more metrics than pretty much anyone else, and is she falls short of them and say, worsens relationships with another kingdom, makes a bad decision in ruling the kingdom, makes the kingdom appear weak in any way, her people will be the ones to pay the prize. And all that is without taking the marriage into consideration. She doesn’t know who Dominic is! We know that he is a great guy, but for all Annelise knows, he could be the kind of person Preminger reveals himself to be. Even if he is a decent guy, it would likely be a loveless marriage. That is a sacrifice (as we can see when her mother is forces into the very same position), especially if it means sacrificing her relationship with Julian, her childhood friend, who shares her interests, helps her through all that nonsense, and understands her better than anyone. On screen, he is the only person she truly opens up with, other than Serafina (who is a cat), and Erika (who she only met that day, and has little emotional investment in the whole thing). Erika and Dominic sing a whole duet about the importance of knowing each other in order to have a functioning relationship, and she has had that with Julian for years. They both (Julian is clearly just as devoted and self-sacrificing as she is) accept to let this unspoken thing between them slip through their fingers, with no hope of ever finding something comparable, and the prospect of drifting apart with time, all for the sake of the kingdom.
And in terms of hope for the future, Annelise is just as bad of, if not worse than Erika. Erika has been working continuously to escape her situation, and never given up hope (“My determination’s strong. People will gather around the world to hear my song! Soon I will forever be free). And in the meantime, she has found small ways to fight back against Mdm. Karp (She can never stop my schemes). How realistic it is to ever pay off Mdm. Karp is a different matter, but she still has a fighting spirit. Annelise meets Erika, while in the process of making peace with the fact, that this was it for her, and there will be no coming back from this (“Now I fear I’ll never be Free” “I’m savoring a first and last taste of freedom”).
[2] In terms of hope and determination, Erika is doing the emotional heavy lifting for both herself, and the other seamstress. And Annelise is putting up a strong façade for even her mother, because in the face of the lack of options, she doesn’t want to burden her mother with the knowledge that she is damning her daughter to an unhappy life.
[3] I already explained Annelise’s situation in detail. Because she was born in royalty, she is tasked with a lot of responsibility, and even though she had no choice in the matter, she still accepts her cross to bear, and does so silently knowing the great personal cost she’ll have to pay. For Erika, they kind of fumbled the ball with the duties she chooses to accept, seeing as pretty much the sole person to suffer from her just, running away and ignorin her 'duties' would be her active abuser. Even if she has yet to pay back all the money her parents borrowed from Mdm. Karp (something she had no say or choice in), she has more than done her time in emotional suffering, and saying that staying in this toxic environment is her duty is not a message I agree with. But in-universe she explicitly states such convictions, so any and all points on the matter of her dutiful behavior still stand. One might be able to twist her duty to be to not leave the other seamstress to suffer alone, but that has no textual evidence. But we see this willingness to sacrifice for the sake of duty and responsibility most strongly, when she agrees to help Julian out and take Annelise’s place. There are two ways this could play out: she get’s away with it, or she doesn’t. We see both, her options are being thrown into the royal dungeon for treason, or being locked away by Mdm. Karp for running away, and knowing those where her prospects, she still chose to do this for the sake of both Annelise and the kingdom.
[4] Just, listen to free, watch the movie. These two girls prove their inner strength and endurance time and time again. They always keep going, searching for solution after solution, no matter what obstacles lie in their way (Being sent away at the palace gates, escaping Mdm. Karp, escaping the mines, escaping the dungeon, etc.). Their drive, determination, endurance and unbendable spirit are admirable.
“I close my eyes, and feel myself fly a thousand miles away. I could take flight, but would it be right, my conscience tells me stay. I’ll remain forever royal. I’ll repay my parents debt. Duty means doing the things your heart may well regret. But I’ll never stop believing/ she can never stop my schemes. There’s more to living than gloves and gowns and thread and seams, in my dreams, I’ll be free”
This is the end of free, the core of them, and the thing they recognize in each other, and I will no longer allow any slander against either them!
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kingofbodyrolls · 17 days
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My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | fourteen
🐴Chapter summary: After breaking up with Jimin, you realize how much you love him, and that maybe that love should be enough to carry you through your new life— being a parent, for someone else’s child.
🐴Chapter title: I Wish the Past was Different
🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc
🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.
🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst
🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!
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🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
🐴Chapter warnings: angst (is this really a surprise?), mention of pregnancy (not oc!!!), a riding accident, a lot of thinking and overthinking, sadness and angst, jealousy, working through feelings.
🐴Status: completed (the epilogue is in the works!)
🐴Word count: 10.5k 
🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,
*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.
🐴Now playing 💿 “Time Turn Over” by Rebecca Lavelle. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]
🐴Author’s note: OC is being very Bella Swan in this chapter, I’m sorry again 😭 BUT!!! The angst goes away in this chapter too, because I just wouldn’t do it (I’m tired of the angst, lol). Because of said angst, it was tough for me to write and I actually ended up asking my husband for advice because I was stuck, not meeting my own word length deadline and because I just felt stuck in general 🥲 But alas, he gave me a good idea, and I went with that! There is very minimal angst going forward from this chapter, like it’s so minor compared to all the rest, so I hope you’ll enjoy mostly unicorns and rainbows after this chapter ☀️
You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*
*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue 💜
It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?
← previous | s.masterlist | m.masterlist |  next →
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“And oh, I wish the past was different And oh, I wish it wasn’t so But in the end, because I’m here now In the end, I think you know I can’t say it and you can’t feel it but I can not let it go And oh, I wish the past was different And oh, I wish it wasn’t so” ‘I Wish the Past Was Different’ by Rebecca Lavelle
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You’ve thrown yourself into your work with the wild horses, seeking solace in their untamed spirits. Yet, the bittersweet reality of having to work at Jimin’s place constantly tugs at your heartstrings. Each encounter with him reignites the longing to be wrapped in his arms, to find solace in his embrace, and to believe in a future together. But then you catch sight of Deiji, and the floodgates of jealousy and insecurity and self doubt burst open once more, drowning you in feelings of inadequacy and unpreparedness for the daunting prospect of motherhood, especially when it's someone else's child at the center of it all.
Why does life have to twist and turn in such cruel ways? The weight of this pain is crushing, dragging you down with each passing moment, threatening to shatter you into irreparable fragments.
You find yourself yearning for an alternate reality where Jimin never crossed paths with Deiji, where their relationship was just a figment of imagination rather than a painful reality. The ache in your chest resonates with the desire to assign blame, to point fingers at anything but your own heart for walking away. It’s easier to lay fault at the feet of Deiji and Jimin than to confront the agonizing truth of your own decision to part ways.
You scuff, a tempest of anger and sorrow swirling within you, each emotion battling for dominance, leaving your stomach tied in knots. Amidst this tumult, focusing on the wild horses becomes a difficult task, prompting Hoseok to step in and assist Yoongi more frequently while you remain perched atop the fence, a silent observer of the scene below.
The love between the two men is palpable, their synergy evident as they collaborate seamlessly. Yet, as you observe them coaxing a once-wild gray horse into submission, a bittersweet symphony plays in your heart. Their laughter, like tinkling bells, fills the air, but with each shared chuckle, a pang of longing grips your soul. You can’t help but notice the gentle caress of Hoseok's hand on Yoongi’s arm, the way their eyes meet with an unspoken understanding, and their voices, light and airy, carrying the melody of their affection.
Their effortless relationship is both heartwarming and gut-wrenching to witness. You adore them both and revel in their happiness, yet a pang of envy lingers as you yearn for a similar bliss with Jimin. The prospect of parenthood looms over you like a daunting storm cloud, and you're lost in a tempest of uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate the tumultuous waters ahead.
Hoseok’s hands caress the sleek coat of the gray horse, his touch a delicate dance of reassurance and patience. The majestic creature stands serene under his guidance, a testament to their bond of trust and understanding.
Yoongi pivots, his keen eyes catching the shadow of sorrow that’s cloaked you for days, casting a solemn hue over your features.
He strides over, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of your storm. Perching beside you on the fence, he offers a reassuring pat on your shoulder. “It’s going to be alright,” he assures, his voice a soothing balm to your troubled soul.
You highly doubt it. You replay the choices in your mind like a broken record, each decision leading you to this moment of heartache. You could have chosen to stay with Jimin, to endure the pain silently, but the weight of it all felt unbearable. A heavy sigh escapes your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the turmoil within.
You turn your gaze towards Yoongi, the question burning on your lips, a mixture of curiosity and longing swirling in your chest. Despite knowing you shouldn't pry, your heart yearns for a glimpse into Jimin’s world. “How’s Jimin holding up?” you inquire, your voice tinged with a fragile hope, betraying the emotions you've been grappling with.
Yoongi’s eyes meet yours, a silent plea evident in their depths, urging you to reconsider your question. His expression carries a weight of concern, as if he’s shielding you from the painful truth that might follow.
As the silence lingers, you press further, your voice a whisper weighted with apprehension. “Is he... back with Deiji?” The words hang heavy in the air, fraught with a mix of dread and longing for a truth you're not sure you're ready to confront.
Yoongi’s features contort into a mask of sorrow, his gaze drifting downward to the grains of sand within the pen, as if seeking solace in the mundane. “You shouldn’t hurt yourself with questions like this,” he murmurs, his tone heavy with empathy and resignation. “But no, Jimin is still very single.”
The revelation doesn’t exactly lift the weight from your heart, though it's a relief knowing he’s not rushing back into Deiji’s embrace. Still, a melancholic ache persists, knowing that things have unfolded this way.
Yoongi’s words land like a gentle breeze, stirring a mix of emotions within you. “You know,”  he confides, his tone carrying a thread of hope. “Jimin misses you a lot. He talks about you everyday. He wishes that you’ll change your mind and come back home.” As his gaze meets your weary eyes, a glimmer of optimism dances in his own.
Tears have become an unwelcome companion, tracing silent rivers down your cheeks, staining your pillow with the remnants of your sorrow. Night after night, you find solace in the lullaby of tears, until even your sister’s concern casts a shadow upon your weary soul. Your eyes, once bright with laughter, now betray the weight of your heartache, swollen and heavy with the burden of your grief. Yet, in the face of it all, you couldn’t summon the energy to care.
You draw in a shuddering breath, grappling with the tempest of emotions swirling within you. “I miss him too,” you admit, your voice quivering with raw honesty. “But I can’t bear the thought of being in a relationship with him, not with his child on the way with another woman.”
You release a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping under the weight of exhaustion and emotional turmoil. Every task seems monumental, even the simplest ones, and just coaxing yourself out of bed feels like an uphill battle. A tear teeters on the edge of your waterline, a silent testament to the inner turmoil gnawing at your soul. Desperate to divert your thoughts from Jimin's memory, you draw in a deep breath and pivot the conversation. “You and Hoseok seem really happy,” you remark, attempting to steer the dialogue towards a lighter topic.
A gentle chuckle ripples from Yoongi’s lips beside you, a soothing sound amidst the heaviness of your emotions. He senses your need for a reprieve and graciously allows the shift in conversation. “Was that a question or a statement?” he quips, his laughter like a beacon guiding you away from the shadows of sadness, urging your weary spirit back towards the light.
A soft chuckle escapes your lips, a brief respite from the weight of your thoughts. “Definitely a statement,” you reply with a hint of self-awareness, the sound of your laughter mingling with the breeze, carrying a fleeting moment of lightness through the heavy air.
“We are happy,” Yoongi affirms, a genuine smile spreading across his face, revealing the warmth in his eyes. Together, you observe Hoseok’s movements with the gray horse below, the sight of him successfully saddling the animal a testament to his skill and patience.
“That’s great. I’m so happy for you, Yoongi,” you express, mustering a smile, though it lacks the usual sparkle that once defined it.
“Thank you. But I can see it’s tough for you,” he starts, his gaze probing yours, seeking something elusive, something you're not quite sure of.
You brush off his concern with a casual flick of your hand. “I put myself in this situation,” you say, the weight of your words heavier than you intended.
You slump further against the fence, sinking into the sanctuary of your own fragile thoughts.
Hoseok remains focused on the horse, his movements fluid and purposeful, while Yoongi stands steadfast beside you, his arm enveloping you in a comforting embrace, a reassuring anchor amidst the tumult of your thoughts.
“Thank you Yoongi,” You express your gratitude to Yoongi with a heartfelt whisper, leaning into his comforting presence. His embrace is a sanctuary, enveloping you in warmth and the refreshing scent of mint, a soothing balm to your troubled soul.
“What for?” With a soft chuckle, Yoongi queries, his voice laced with genuine curiosity.
“For always being there for me,” You utter, your voice laced with profound gratitude. The weight of your words hangs in the air, a testament to the depth of your appreciation for his unwavering friendship.
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The relentless sun beats down upon you as you toil alongside Soo-ah, Ara, and Ha-rin, laboring to scrub clean the water trough for the cattle in a distant paddock. Beads of sweat form rivulets on your brow, and you futilely attempt to brush them away with the hem of your shirt, but the relentless heat refuses to relent.
The scorching heat bears down upon you relentlessly as you vigorously scrub away at the trough, determined to rid it of its slimy residue, accumulated grime, and encrusted grease. Each stroke of the brush is a testament to your commitment, knowing full well the vital importance of this cleaning ritual to ensure the cattle’s access to pristine water during their time in the paddock.
“Don’t you think it’s time to move on?” Ara’s words pierce through the haze of your thoughts, jolting you out of the cocoon of self-pity you’ve wrapped yourself in. 
Beside you, Soo-ah and Ha-rin exchange startled gasps, their synchronized reaction prompting you to arch an eyebrow in curiosity, silently urging Ara to continue.
“That’s so inconsiderate of you to say, Ara!” Soo-ah’s reprimand cuts through the air, her words laced with a protective edge, while Ha-rin’s support echoes her sentiment, amplifying the intensity of the moment.
“What? But she seems so miserable, Jimin too, why don’t you just work it out?” Ara’s voice carries genuine concern, wrapped in a gentle tone, yet it strikes a nerve within you. You sense her good intentions, but the thought of rehashing your struggles yet again feels draining. With a heavy exhale, you opt for silence, allowing your frustration to seep out in a weary sigh.
“Don’t you think she would work it out with him, if she wanted to?” Ha-rin’s words cut through the humid air, laced with a hint of frustration as she vigorously scrubs the steel trough. It’s a valid question, one that resonates with the unspoken doubts lingering in your mind. You ponder her inquiry, the rhythmic sound of metal against metal providing a backdrop to your internal turmoil.
It’s a surreal sensation, like eavesdropping on a conversation about your own life from a distance. Their words hang heavy in the air, echoing the unspoken complexities of your situation. You stand there, a silent observer to your own narrative, grappling with the strange disconnect between your presence and their discussion.
Ara’s voice rises, her words infused with a desperate plea for understanding. But like, last time they didn’t talk for months and it was just a stupid misunderstanding,” she insists, her eyes searching for empathy among her companions.
Soo-ah interjects with a firm tone, “Do you even comprehend the sheer effort it takes to raise a child?” she questions, her gaze piercing. “If she’s not prepared for that responsibility, then she’s simply not ready.”
It feels funny, how they are talking about you and Jimin, you might as well say something.
The scrubbing of the trough halts abruptly as you pivot towards Ara, your expression a mix of vulnerability and resolve. “It’s not that we aren’t talking,” you begin, your voice carrying the weight of your emotions. “We still communicate, but it’s the sight of Deiji that stings the most. Knowing they’re expecting a child together... it’s hard not to feel consumed by jealousy,” you confess, the words heavy with raw honesty.
Ara’s eyes soften with understanding, her nod a silent acknowledgment of the tumult of emotions you're navigating. “It sounds like you want a child of your own, with Jimin,” she ventures, her words carrying a gentle empathy that resonates with your innermost desires and fears.
Ha-rin’s reaction is a blend of admonishment and hushing as she playfully nudges Ara’s arm, silently urging her to tread carefully while also chiding her for broaching a sensitive topic.
“I’m not entirely certain about having children,” you start, your words measured and tinged with uncertainty, “but raising someone else’s child is certainly not what I imagined or wanted to do.”
Soo-ah and Ha-rin exchange understanding nods. “Do you think you might change your mind later?” Ha-rin inquires gently, her voice carrying a tone of empathy as she continues with her task.
You pause, mulling over her question for a moment, before responding thoughtfully, “I’m not entirely sure... perhaps. It’s just... I can’t quite envision how it would all come together, you know?”
“I just... when I envision Jimin embracing fatherhood, cherishing that little girl of his soon entering the world, it’s her child, not mine,” you sigh in frustration, yet oddly finding a glimmer of relief in the honesty of your words.
“So you’re jealous that it’s not going to be your child?” Ara teases beside you, prompting a scolding glare from Soo-ah.
“You just said you didn’t want kids, but now you say you do... make up your mind,” Ara adds, rolling her eyes in a playful yet challenging manner.
“She doesn’t want Deiji’s kid, can’t you get that?” Soo-ah says, coming to your defense once more, her voice firm with conviction.
“Guys! I’m just not sure I want kids, period. Why can’t I be undecided on this?” Your words hang heavy in the air, a plea for understanding, as you return to the task of scrubbing the trough with a vigor that betrays your inner turmoil.
“Yeah. Let’s not badger her, okay?” Ha-rin’s voice cuts through the tension like a soothing balm, her gentle plea for empathy echoing your own sentiments. You catch her soft gaze, a silent acknowledgment of her understanding, offering a momentary respite from the probing questions.
“But can I say something?” Her demeanor shifts with a mix of hesitance and determination, her gaze seeking reassurance before she speaks. You offer a nod, granting her the space to voice her thoughts, curious about what might follow.
“You still love Jimin and he still loves you— don’t you think you could focus on that, and just like, not focus on the kid?” Her words hang in the air, a delicate plea woven with threads of hope and uncertainty. You feel a pang of longing as she speaks, her sincerity piercing through the heaviness of the situation. Despite the weight of her suggestion, you can't help but consider the possibility buried within her question.
As her words sink in, you find yourself grappling with a newfound perspective. The idea of focusing on your enduring love for Jimin rather than fixating on the looming presence of a child is both liberating and daunting. It’s a notion you’ve never entertained before, a ray of light piercing through the clouds of uncertainty that have engulfed you. Could it be that the solution to your turmoil lies in embracing the love that binds you, rather than allowing fear to drive you apart?
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Each stroke of the brush across the canvas feels like a dance, a rhythmic movement driven by the whirlwind of thoughts swirling through your mind. Jimin’s presence looms large in your thoughts, refusing to be ignored or pushed aside. Ha-rin’s words echo in your ears, a gentle reminder to reconsider your perspective. As you ponder the notion of shifting your focus away from Jimin’s impending fatherhood, you can’t help but feel a glimmer of hope flicker within you. Could it be that amidst the chaos of uncertainty, there lies a path illuminated by the enduring flame of love?
You remain ensnared in the labyrinth of uncertainty, grappling with the weight of your emotions and the intricacies of your relationship. The truth is a bitter pill to swallow: Jimin’s impending fatherhood would inevitably redefine the contours of your relationship, demanding a portion of his time and attention that you would never begrudge. Yet, amidst the tangle of doubts and fears, a flicker of understanding begins to dawn. Perhaps, in the vast expanse of love, there exists room for compromise, for navigating the labyrinth together, hand in hand.
The question lingers in the depths of your soul, a haunting refrain echoing through the corridors of your mind: are you truly prepared for it all?
Ready to become someone’s mother. Step mother?
Ready to raise a child?
Yet, can you truly provide a nurturing environment for a child if one of the adults harbors resentment towards their presence?
You understand it’s not the child’s fault, but the mere thought of it being Deiji’s offspring churns your stomach. You harbor an intense dislike for her, and a nagging suspicion still lingers, whispering that she’s up to something.
You’ve never laid eyes on any proof of the paternity test, and the unsettling thought lingers: did Jimin even ask to see it? Perhaps it's time to broach that topic with him.
As you reminisce about the warmth and intimacy you once shared with Jimin, a wave of melancholy washes over you, leaving you adrift in a sea of longing. Doubts creep in, questioning the wisdom of your choices. Should you have held onto what you had with him, despite the challenges?
The canvas before you mirrors the tumult within, a chaotic blend of muddy hues—gray, brown, beige, and dark blue—an unexpected abstraction of your inner turmoil. It’s a reflection of your tangled thoughts, much like the surprise abstract painting that has emerged from your brush. Yet, beneath the layers of color, a longing persists. You ache to create something different, something infused with the joy of yesteryears—perhaps the serene landscapes that once graced your canvas. Yet, as you realize nearly a year has passed since your return to the ranch, a flood of memories rushes in, dominated by thoughts of Jimin.
Oh, how you wish things were different.
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On an unassuming day, bathed in sunlight, you find yourself quietly eating breakfast in the kitchen, lost in your own solemn musings. Suddenly, the tranquility is shattered as Jungkook steps into the room, jolting you out of your reverie.
You’re acutely aware that since parting ways with Jimin, you’ve been teetering on the brink of depression. It was a painful but necessary decision to safeguard your shattered heart. Yet, despite your efforts to protect yourself, you’re haunted by the gnawing realization that no matter what path you choose, your heart remains irreparably broken.
“Hey,” he greets you with a warm smile, but as you return the gesture, your own smile falls short of matching his infectious happiness. Your gaze lingers on him, curiosity piqued as you notice something clutched in his hand. Why is he carrying a letter?
“How are you doing?” he inquires, and you respond with a bitter chuckle. Can’t he see how you’re doing? You’re well aware of your appearance, having been reminded by your sister that you look like a mess. The truth is, you’re consumed by a constant sadness, and you’ve exhausted all your energy trying to conceal it.
“I feel like shit,” you admit, opting for raw honesty because pretending otherwise seems futile. Jungkook knows you well, understands the depth of your pain stemming from the breakup with his brother.
He offers you a reassuring smile, closing the distance between you as he gently places the white envelope on the table. Your eyes drift down to it, and you immediately recognize your name scrawled across it in familiar handwriting—it’s Jimin’s.
“This is from my brother,” he murmurs, his nerves palpable as he scratches the back of his head, causing you to shift your gaze between him and the letter, your mind racing with anticipation. What could possibly be contained within? Will it offer solace or inflict further pain? The uncertainty grips you tightly, leaving you on edge.
“Can’t he speak for himself?” You question, a hint of frustration seeping into your voice as your fingers hover over the letter, finally grasping it to inspect its contents.
“He’s torn about whether to give you space or not,” Jungkook confides, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “And he has no idea that I snatched the letter.”
Your eyes widen as you fix your gaze on him. “Are you sure I should read this then?” You inquire, a hint of apprehension creeping into your voice. “Maybe Jimin doesn’t want me to read it.”
Jungkook offers you a gentle smile. “It’s fine,” he reassures, his tone laced with determination. “If he gets mad, it’s on me. But you need to read it. I’m tired of seeing you both suffer like this.”
With those words, he leaves you to grapple with your thoughts and the letter, its edges slightly crumpled, a testament to the turmoil it contains. Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind weighed down by a heavy burden, and your eyes dry from the countless tears shed. You resolve to open the letter, sliding it out slowly; its handwritten contents are adorned with dried tears, each smudge a poignant reminder of the emotions woven into every word. Even before you begin to read, a lump forms in your throat, and your vision blurs with the tears welling up in your eyes.
Despite your trembling hands and the overwhelming emotions coursing through you, you summon every ounce of courage within you. With a determined resolve, you steady your gaze and immerse yourself in every heart-wrenching word penned by Jimin in his letter.
My love,
You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I love you more than words can express, and the ache of missing you is a constant companion. I’m deeply sorry for the pain I’ve caused you. No apology could ever capture the depth of my remorse for hurting you repeatedly. My heart weighs heavy with regret, and I want you to know how truly sorry I am. I wish I could undo the hurt I’ve caused. I understand that you may not be ready for motherhood, and I would never want to pressure you into anything. But I hold onto hope that we can find our way back to each other. I love you endlessly, and the thought of being apart is unbearable. I know I don’t deserve your kindness and forgiveness, but please, consider giving me another chance. You are my everything, and I long for us to be reunited. 
With all my love and remorse,
Jimin
As your tears mingle with Jimin’s on the page, your heart aches with a poignant mix of love and pain. Despite the hurt he’s caused, your love for him remains unwavering, yet it’s accompanied by the uncertainty of whether you’re prepared for motherhood. However, amidst the turmoil, a flicker of hope ignites within you—perhaps, just perhaps, you can find the strength to be ready for that journey with him.
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You sense the weight of your thoughts pressing down, suffocating you. There’s an urgency to clear your mind, to escape the labyrinth of your own making. And you know precisely what remedy awaits: a ride. Out onto the sprawling expanse of land surrounding your ranch, where the wind whispers secrets and the horizon stretches endlessly. It’s your sanctuary, your refuge from the turmoil within—a chance to lose yourself in the rhythm of hoofbeats and the vastness of the world beyond.
Typically, when you saddle up, the chaos in your mind settles, and you allow yourself to sink into the serenity of the natural world, letting the rhythm of hoofbeats replace the cacophony of thoughts.
That’s why you find yourself in the barn, carefully saddling Mikrokosmos, feeling the familiar weight of the leather in your hands, the comforting scent of hay and wood surrounding you. With each buckle tightened and each strap secured, a sense of anticipation builds within you. Leading Mikrokosmos out of the barn, you’re eager to immerse yourself in the healing embrace of nature, seeking solace in the rhythmic cadence of hoofbeats and the whispering winds.
With a steady breath, you slide your foot into the stirrup, feeling the familiar weight of your body settling into the saddle. As you swing your leg over, a surge of anticipation courses through you, mingling with the raw energy emanating from Mikrokosmos. With a gentle nudge of your heels, you coax her into motion, feeling the power of her muscles ripple beneath you as she eagerly responds to your command, propelling both of you forward into the boundless expanse of the open land.
With each rhythmic beat of Mikrokosmos’ hooves against the earth, you surrender to the wild abandon of the ride, seeking solace in the untamed beauty of the landscape unfurling before you. Away from the suffocating grip of memories and uncertainties, you allow the wind to carry away the weight of your burdens, embracing the freedom of the open horizon as you ride further into the unknown.
As the wind weaves through your hair, its gentle touch whispers a symphony of freedom, entwining with the rhythmic melody of Mikrokosmos’ hooves tearing through the earth. With each stride, she paints the landscape with her fervent dance, sending plumes of dust swirling into the air. In the harmony of nature’s cadence, your spirit soars, liberated from the weight of doubt and longing. Each thunderous beat of her hooves resonates with the pounding rhythm of your heart.
Surrendering to the rush of wind and the pounding of hooves, you relinquish the burdens that have tethered your soul, allowing them to scatter like leaves in the breeze, if only for a fleeting moment.
As the sky transforms from serene blue to ominous gray, then to the cloak of night pierced by flashes of lightning, you sense the electricity in the air mirrored by Mikrokosmos’ subtle twitch, a silent acknowledgment of nature’s impending fury.
As the thunderclouds gather with ominous intent, you’re acutely aware of the danger of being caught in the open during a storm. Lost in the vast expanse, you realize with a sinking feeling that you’ve ventured too far to return before the tempest strikes. Yet, the urgency to seek shelter pushes you onward, driven by the instinct to find safety amidst the approaching chaos.
Amidst the dense foliage, you urgently guide Mikrokosmos, a steadfast companion in the tumultuous terrain. Suddenly, a deafening rumble ruptures the air, and the heavens ignite with a blinding flash. Your loyal steed startles, veering sharply as a nearby tree becomes a target for the furious lightning. With lightning’s crackle still echoing, Mikrokosmos rears in panic, jolting you from the saddle. You plummet to the earth, pain searing through your body upon impact, a harsh reminder of nature's unforgiving power. Fuck it hurts.
Mikrokosmos, wide-eyed and trembling, lingers by your side, almost like she wants to make sure you’re okay. You extend a trembling hand in reassurance, craving the solace of her presence, but as another deafening thunderclap reverberates through the sky, she recoils in terror. With a swift and panicked motion, she breaks away, vanishing into the wilderness, leaving you alone amidst the storm’s fury.
“Mikrokosmos, come back!” Your voice echoes through the wilderness, a desperate plea swallowed by the roaring tempest. With each strained syllable, you feel the weight of your fear and frustration, your heart racing in sync with her retreating hoofbeats. As you struggle to rise, the sting of pain ignites along your spine, a harsh reminder of your vulnerability amidst nature's fury. Damn it - you should have prepared her for moments like these, should have been more vigilant in her training with sudden loud noises. Now, your failure looms large, a bitter taste of remorse in the storm's relentless assault.
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As the rain pours down in relentless sheets and the sky is intermittently illuminated by flashes of lightning, she finds herself lost in worry. Hours have slipped by since her sister embarked on her ride, and with each passing minute, concern gnaws at her like a persistent ache. In the midst of such tumultuous weather, her sister should have returned by now. 
Where could she be? What if something has gone wrong out there in the storm’s fury?
Anxious tendrils grip her as she leans in closer to Jungkook, her voice trembling with concern. “Kook, I’m really worried about my sister. She should have been back by now,” she confides, her words laced with a sense of urgency. Jungkook’s eyes widen in alarm, his grip tightening on the beer bottle as he absorbs her distress.
As she gazes out the window, her heart lurches at the sight of a panicked Mikrokosmos darting around the yard. “Mikrokosmos is running wild out there, but still no sign of my sister. This can’t be good,” she murmurs, urgency coloring her voice as she hastily slips into her boots and jacket. Sensing the gravity of the situation, Jungkook is right by her side, his expression mirroring her concern as they prepare to investigate.
Jessi manages to soothe Mikrokosmos, her fingers gently curling around the reins. “Easy, girl,” she murmurs, her voice a soft reassurance in the midst of the storm.
She strokes Mikrokosmos’ mane, her touch a comforting anchor in the chaos of the storm. “Easy, girl,” she whispers, her voice a soothing melody amidst the thunderous symphony. “Steady, now,” she repeats, her words a gentle plea for calmness.
She whirls around to face Jungkook, urgency etched across her features. “This isn’t good. Where’s my sister?” Her voice quivers with worry, each word punctuated by the pounding rain outside, echoing the frantic beat of her heart.
Jungkook pivots, his eyes widening at the sight of Soo-ah hurtling from her cottage. “What’s Mikrokosmos doing here alone?” His voice is laced with concern, mirroring the panic in Soo-ah’s expression.
Jessi relinquishes the reins to Soo-ah, her voice trembling with worry. “I think something has happened to my sister, otherwise Mikrokosmos wouldn’t be here alone. Can you please take her into the stables, calm her down, and we’ll search for my sister?”
Soo-ah seizes the reins with determination and offers Jessi a firm nod, leading Mikrokosmos over to the stables. Jessi’s expression is etched with concern as she turns to Jungkook, her brow furrowed in deep distress.
“Let’s go look for her, she shouldn’t be out in this weather,” With urgency etched in his voice, he clasps her hand firmly, a silent promise of support. Together, they hustle to his truck, determination fueling their actions as they race back to Bell Ranch, intent on rallying more help to find you.
They dash through the rain-drenched yard, urgency in each step as they burst into the house where Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi lounge in front of the TV, oblivious to the mounting concern etched on Jungkook and Jessi’s faces.
Urgency floods Jungkook’s voice as he interrupts their tranquility. “Guys, Jess’ sister is missing. We need your help to find her,” he implores, his words slicing through the calm of the room like a thunderbolt.
Jimin’s muscles tense, his expression darkening with concern as his heart quickens its pace. Yoongi springs from the couch with such urgency that he should feel lightheaded. In a synchronized rush, the trio leaps into action, snatching up their boots and jackets.
The weather outside is relentless, the midday darkness accentuated by the unyielding rain and gray skies, enveloping everything in a shroud of cold, damp chill.
Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension, his hand already reaching for the keys to his truck. “Should we split into groups of two or three?” he suggests, urgency lacing his words like a silent plea for swift action.
Jessi’s voice holds authority, her words cutting through the air like a command. “I think two are fine,” she concedes, her tone firm and resolute. “But you’re not driving.” Her finger jabs towards Jimin, swiftly snatching the keys from his grasp and passing them to Yoongi with an unyielding resolve.
Jimin’s expression shifts from disbelief to begrudging acceptance as he grapples with Jessi’s unexpected assertion. Despite his initial astonishment, a flicker of understanding ignites within him, and he obediently trails after his brother and Jessi, braving the torrential rain outside.
Yoongi and Hoseok climb into Jimin’s trusty blue truck, equipped with a walkie-talkie in hand, their fingers poised to establish a connection with Jungkook, Jimin, and Jessi in the other vehicle. As they settle in, the anticipation in the air is palpable, their shared determination driving them forward into the unknown.
Yoongi’s voice crackles over the walkie-talkie, edged with concern, as he asks, “Do we have any idea which direction she might have gone?” His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of uncertainty, echoing the urgency of their search.
Jessi’s voice crackles with determination over the line as she directs the plan, “We’re clueless about her direction. Let’s split up – you take the eastern side, we’ll cover the western.” Meanwhile, Jungkook twists the key in the ignition, setting the window wipers to a frantic rhythm. Jimin, gripped by worry, perches on the edge of his seat in the back, craning forward over the center console to scan the rain-soaked landscape ahead.
They embark on their respective routes, traversing the treacherous terrain of the rugged hills. The landscape is unyielding, but the sturdy trucks with four-wheel drive prove to be invaluable companions. Jungkook guides their vehicle with practiced precision, a stark contrast to the frantic urgency of their previous search when Jessi was missing. This time, he maneuvers cautiously, each movement deliberate, mindful of the perilous conditions and determined to avoid any mishaps.
Jimin’s voice cuts through the tension in the truck's cabin, his impatience palpable. “Can’t you drive faster?” he urges his brother from the back seat, his anxiety mounting with each passing moment.
Jungkook’s tone carries a hint of frustration as he scuffs, “No, this terrain isn’t really made for fast driving. And relax. We’ll find her,” his words a gentle reassurance amidst the mounting worry.
Jimin huffs impatiently in the back seat, realizing there’s nothing much to do but wait until they find you. Each passing moment heightens his concern, hoping against hope that you’re safe amidst the storm and uncertainty.
Jessi turns to Jimin, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere in the truck. “That ring you bought a while back, is it just collecting dust, or do you plan on giving it to her soon?” Her directness adds another layer of urgency to the situation, hinting at the unresolved emotions lingering between him and you.
Jungkook chuckles beside her, a brief moment of lightness amidst the tension, yet his gaze remains fixed on the rugged path ahead, emphasizing the gravity of the situation they’re in.
Jimin stumbles over his words, his voice strained with uncertainty. “I just don’t think now’s the right time,” he admits, his words tinged with the weight of recent events. “This whole thing with Deiji and then your sister breaking up with me, I don’t think it would be appropriate.” His voice trails off, the unfinished sentence hanging heavy with unspoken emotions.
She scoffs, her tone laced with incredulity. “Appropriate?” Her disbelief echoes through the cabin, challenging Jimin’s hesitation with a raw intensity.
She turns her whole body in her seat to face Jimin, her eyes ablaze with urgency. “I’m sorry, but this whole thing with Deiji is hella suspicious. And you love my sister, right? She loves you too. She’s almost sick, because she broke up with you, did you know that?” Her words hang heavy in the air, charged with a blend of concern and accusation, demanding a response from Jimin.
Jimin’s eyes widen at her words, a mix of surprise and guilt flashing across his face, but he remains silent, his thoughts swirling like a tempestuous sea, grappling with the weight of her accusations.
“She doesn’t eat properly anymore. She’s lost weight, she’s not sleeping— shall I keep going?” She crosses her arms, her voice edged with a mixture of concern and frustration. This whole thing just makes her mad. She hates seeing her favorite people hurt like this, consumed by a storm of emotions that threatens to engulf them both.
“Oh, did you know she cries herself to sleep every night?” she adds, her voice trembling with a mix of hurt and vulnerability, as if she’s revealing a secret that should have remained buried.
Jimin’s breath catches at her revelation, his eyes widening in shock. “I didn’t know,” he admits, his voice tinged with guilt and regret.
“Listen, I don’t know why she can’t talk to you,” Jessi continues, her tone a blend of frustration and concern. “But having Deiji around makes it incredibly tough for her— and I’m not suggesting you abandon her or your future child. However, finding a balance that allows space for my sister without causing her this kind of pain might be worth considering.”
“But she’s made it clear she’s not ready for kids,” Jimin murmurs, his voice barely audible over the increasingly rough terrain.
“It’s not just any kid, Jimin, it’s hers, for heaven’s sake! Can’t you see the weight of that?” she practically scolds him, her voice firm and resounding with frustration.
Jimin is rendered speechless—his mind swirling with conflicting emotions, leaving him utterly at a loss for words.
“You really hurt her when you started dating Deiji, you know. When you shut her out, assuming she was with Yoongi,” she adds, her voice laced with a raw intensity, fighting for you, voicing the unspoken turmoil you’re grappling with. “She loves you deeply, but I’m certain Deiji triggers memories she’d rather bury.” She pivots back, her tone searing with frustration. “And why the fuck would you do that? Why couldn’t you just talk to her?”
Jimin’s gaze locks onto hers, his eyes widening with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability, as if on the brink of tears. “I know I behaved poorly. I—I don’t know, I was just consumed by jealousy. I know I was petty.”
Jessi nods, her expression softening with empathy. “See, you were jealous and didn’t speak to her. Now she’s jealous and doesn’t speak to you. Do you see a pattern here?” Her words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of truth, urging Jimin to confront the echoes of his own actions.
Jimin nods, his heart heavy with a mix of gratitude and remorse, appreciating both the insight and the gentle reprimand from Jessi.
“Now. If you don’t get your shit together and talk to her, I’m going to ask your little brother to beat your ass up,”  she teases, a playful grin lighting up her face. Her hand finds its way to his thigh, a reassuring squeeze emphasizing her point. “But seriously, she’s going to be alright, and you’re going to talk to her.”
Jungkook’s laughter fills the truck cabin, and Jimin nervously bites his lip, but he nods in acknowledgment to your sister’s words. He’s well aware that he needs to have that conversation with you, even though attempts in the past have been met with avoidance on your part. It’s clear that seeing Deiji has been a trigger for you, and the realization hits him hard. He's caused you so much pain, put you through hell, and it's a weight he can't bear. This isn’t how it should be, and he knows he needs to find a way to make things right.
As the rain continues to pour relentlessly, the passage of time becomes a blur, lost in the rhythm of the storm pounding against the truck's windshield.
“Have you had any luck?” Jessi’s voice crackles through the walkie talkie, a lifeline in the storm, as she eagerly seeks any sign of hope or progress.
“Not yet.” Yoongi's voice cuts through the static, tinged with a hint of frustration, indicating the ongoing struggle and the uncertainty of the situation.
Suddenly, Jimin’s voice crackles with urgency, breaking the tension in the truck. “I think I see something—over there, by that bush!” His finger jabs towards a dark figure, barely discernible amidst the downpour, a beacon of hope in the relentless storm.
Jungkook steers the truck towards the figure, the engine growling with determination. As they draw nearer, their headlights cutting through the rain, the silhouette resolves into a familiar form—there you are, huddled against the elements, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, each tremble echoing their worry.
With a surge of relief, Jessi flips on the walkie talkie, her voice slicing through the storm like a beacon of hope. “We’ve found her!” Her words, charged with emotion, resonate through the static, breaking through the tension like a ray of sunlight through dark clouds.
Yoongi’s voice carries a wave of relief, cutting through the tension like a soothing melody. “Thank god,” he exhales, his words echoing the collective sentiment of the group, a chorus of gratitude amid the storm’s fury.
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Despite the lingering heat, your body trembles, a stark contrast to the relentless downpour that now subsides, replaced by a calm silence broken only by the soft patter of raindrops.
In the distance, headlights cut through the gloom, bouncing over the rugged landscape, gradually growing larger and clearer. As the familiar black truck draws near, a wave of relief floods your weary and trembling form, soothing your frayed nerves.
The truck grinds to a halt just a stone’s throw away, and in an instant, three figures spill out onto the rain-soaked earth: Jungkook, your steadfast sister, and Jimin, his urgency palpable in every stride.
Jimin sprints to your side with an urgency that echoes his concern, his strides propelled by an undeniable determination. His embrace envelops you, a reassuring anchor amidst the storm. “How are you holding up?” he implores, his voice a blend of worry and relief. You offer a nonchalant shrug, masking the turmoil within. “Could be worse,” you reply, your words betraying the weight of your ordeal.
Your sister’s gaze scans you intently, her eyes mapping every contour, searching for any sign of harm. “What happened?” she inquires, her voice edged with concern. “Mikrokosmos returned without you.” Her words hang in the air, punctuated by the gravity of the situation, each syllable laden with the weight of unanswered questions and looming danger.
“The thunder spooked her and I fell off,” you explain, feeling Jimin’s firm hand pulling you upright. The words spill from your lips, mingling with the pattering rain as you recount the moment of panic and disarray.
“Any injuries?” He inquires, his eyes scanning you with the same meticulous care as your sister had done moments before. Yet, to your relief, there isn’t a single scratch or bruise to be found on your body.
“I-I just feel sore,” you manage, your voice tinged with discomfort, the chill of the rain making your words stutter slightly. Jimin immediately envelops you in his arms once more, leading you gently towards his brother’s truck. Your sister, too, lends her support, her gaze fixed on you with concern. As you glance down, you catch a glimmer from her left hand, and there, amidst the rain, you spot something sparkling.
“What’s that?” You inquire, your voice a mixture of curiosity and exhaustion as they guide you back towards the truck, their arms offering steadying support.
“What?” your sister inquires, her brows furrowing slightly as she holds the door open for you to climb into the backseat.
“That ring on your finger,” you observe, noting the flush creeping up her cheeks. She attempts to conceal her hand, but it’s too late—you’ve already caught sight of it. With gentle insistence, you grasp her hand and bring it closer for inspection. A delicate gold band adorned with a simple white stone gleams in the dim light, its beauty striking you. Glancing at Jungkook, you’re met with a tender expression, silently affirming the significance of the moment.
“You proposed to her?” You inquire, your voice catching on the brink of tears, emotions swirling within you—a mix of overwhelming joy and heartfelt sentiment.
His laughter dances in the air as he admits, “I did,” his grin radiating warmth, all while your sister playfully attempts to wrest her hand from your firm grasp.
“When did this happen?” Inquisitively, you pivot between them, anticipation lacing your voice. Their eyes momentarily break contact, drawn down to the damp earth beneath them, as if searching for the right words amidst the glistening droplets.
“A week ago,” Her admission comes in a hushed tone, tinged with a hint of regret, the weight of secrecy palpable in the air. It's as though the words have been lodged in her throat for days, finally finding release, yet carrying with them the burden of silence she bore for an entire week.
“And you didn’t tell me?” You exhale a mix of disbelief and hurt, your incredulous gaze bouncing between them like a pinball in motion. Reluctantly, you yield to Jimin and your sister's gentle insistence, allowing them to guide you into the shelter of the backseat, away from the relentless downpour. With a comforting presence, Jimin settles beside you, while your sister and Jungkook join you in the truck, cocooning you in a blend of warmth and unspoken apologies.
“We wanted to tell you,” your sister starts, her voice carrying a blend of sincerity and hesitation, mingling with the hum of the engine as Jungkook maneuvers the truck down the hill, steering back towards home.“We just didn’t want to make you sad, so I didn’t wear the ring, until today…” she continues, her eyes betraying a sadness mirrored in your own conflicted emotions. You wrestle with the complexity of her consideration, torn between gratitude for her sensitivity and the ache of your own hidden sorrow. After all, shouldn’t you be thrilled for them? Yet, beneath the surface, your heart echoes with a quieter, more personal ache, one that whispers of your own unspoken battles with sadness and despair.
“Why would you make me sad? It makes me sad that you’ve been hiding it from me,” you lament, a tinge of frustration coloring your words as you grapple with the chill seeping through your sodden attire, clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Each droplet feels like a weight, echoing the heaviness of the withheld truth, leaving you to mire in a mix of emotions, neither warm nor settled.
Sensing your shivers, Jimin swiftly sheds his jacket, enfolding you in its warmth with a tender gesture, a shield against the biting cold that had crept beneath your skin.
“I only wanted to spare you from pain,” your sister’s voice softens, regret lacing each syllable as she meets your gaze, her words heavy with remorse. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”
You nod, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Despite the sadness clouding your heart, you grasp onto the flicker of happiness for your loved ones. It sucks that she didn’t tell you, but you do understand why she did it.
Your gaze shifts to Jimin, a whirlwind of unspoken words swirling within you, a thousand thoughts clamoring for attention. Each thought jostles for prominence, yet amidst the chaos, you find yourself lost in the labyrinth of your own mind, grappling with the weight of unsaid feelings, uncertain where to begin or how to articulate the storm raging within.
“Thank you for the jacket,” Gratitude tumbles from your lips for the jacket, a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm of silence that has grown between you, though its weight feels heavier with unspoken tension. There’s an unfamiliar air, thick with unresolved emotions, a palpable unease that lingers like an unwelcome guest. You’ve been avoiding him, grappling with the aftermath of your decision to end things, haunted by the specter of his past relationship and the fragility of your own heart, torn between the longing for reconciliation and the fear of further heartbreak.
“You’re welcome. And I’m sorry,” Jimin murmurs, his gaze a tender caress as he studies you intently, as if attempting to decipher the intricate layers of your being. You can’t help but wonder if he notices the shadows beneath your eyes, heavier now than before, or if he sees the telltale signs of your daily tears etched upon your swollen, puffy face. Does he perceive the subtle changes in your physique, the way your clothes hang looser, mirroring the weight of your burdened heart? In the depths of his gaze, you question if he glimpses the essence of your soul, the silent yearning for his touch, for the rekindling of his boundless love that once enveloped you in warmth and security.
“What for?” You inquire, a soft sniffle punctuating your words, yet your gaze remains unwavering, locked onto the depths of his captivating brown eyes. In that moment, a wave of longing washes over you, the realization of your own foolishness crashing against the shores of your consciousness. You’ve yearned for him in his absence, now understanding the foolishness of your pride. Love pulses within you, a beacon amidst the stormy seas of doubt, begging the question: shouldn't love be reason enough? Isn't it the only thing that truly matters in the end?
“For treating you so poorly. For every misstep, every hurtful word, every moment of silence that drove a wedge between us, for dating Deiji, for not realizing how much it all has hurt you,” he confesses, his voice a fragile whisper teetering on the edge of remorse. Tears glisten in his eyes, a testament to the depth of his regret. His trembling hand finds solace in the curve of your cheek, tenderly cupping it as if to anchor himself amidst the tempest of his emotions. You yield to his touch, the warmth and softness of his hand a balm to your wounded soul, melting away the barriers that had stood between you, allowing you to surrender to the familiar comfort of his embrace.
“I’ve been unbelievably foolish, and I’m utterly sorry,” his voice catches in his throat, the weight of his remorse evident as a tear breaks free from his lashes, tracing a silent path down his cheek. “I never meant to hurt you like this,” he confesses, each word heavy with regret. “I love you so much,” he whispers, the depth of his affection echoing in the tremor of his voice, a testament to the sincerity of his devotion.
“I know you broke up with me because you’re not ready to have kids, and I completely understand that,” his hand intertwines with yours, a lifeline in the tumult of emotions that swirl between you. His gaze searches yours, seeking understanding, seeking reassurance, perhaps seeking forgiveness. “But I can’t shake the feeling that we belong together— I want you back,” he confesses, his voice a soft plea tinged with hope. “I love you, and I believe in us. I never imagined this path for us, but I truly believe we can navigate it together,” he asserts, his grip on your hand tightening as if to anchor his resolve. “And the child, she’ll have her own home with Deiji,” he adds, a note of reassurance in his voice, as if to alleviate any concerns that lingered in your heart.
“I got your letter,” you murmur, your tone laden with emotion, observing the shock that washes over his face.
“How?” His voice quivers slightly, betraying the turmoil raging within him, and a pang of guilt washes over you as you realize you probably shouldn’t have read the letter, especially since he didn’t give it to you personally.
Your gaze shifts towards Jungkook, and Jimin instinctively follows the direction of your eyes, noting the scuffs, before returning his attention to you. “I meant every word I wrote in it,” he declares, his tone unwavering despite the vulnerability in his eyes.
As you nod, waves of his love wash over you, intertwining with your own affection and flooding your veins with a warmth that knits together the fragments of your once-scattered heart.
Your heart flutters within its cage of ribs, caught in a dance of uncertainty and longing. His words resonate with you, stirring a flicker of hope in the depths of your soul, yet doubt lingers like a shadow at dusk. You’re torn, teetering on the precipice of indecision, but amidst the turmoil, one truth remains steadfast: your love for him burns unwaveringly, an eternal flame that illuminates the darkness of doubt. And in that flicker of certainty, you find solace, trusting that love, in all its complexities, will guide you through the labyrinth of uncertainty.
“Okay.” The word escapes your lips like a fragile whisper, hanging in the air like the delicate balance of a teetering scale. In the ensuing silence that envelops the truck, you observe the shift in Jimin’s expression, his features morphing into a silent query, a question mark etched upon his face, seeking to decipher the weight of your response and the myriad emotions swirling within you.
“What do you mean?” Jimin’s voice breaks the silence, tinged with confusion, his brows furrowing in bewilderment at your curt response. His inquiry hangs in the air, an invitation to unravel the enigma of your brief words, beckoning you to delve deeper into the intricacies of your thoughts and feelings.
“I want us to be together again,” you confess, your gaze locked with his, the shimmer of tears mirroring the depth of his remorse. Yet amidst the regret, his love for you radiates like a beacon, casting aside the shadows of doubt. You can’t deny the intensity of your own affection, a love that courses through your veins, unwavering and undeniable. It’s as if destiny itself has woven your souls together, an unbreakable bond that transcends time and distance, a truth you've known since the moment your eyes first met after all those years apart.
Without hesitation, Jimin closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours in a fervent embrace. The kiss is hurried, tinged with the salt of his tears, yet you savor every moment, for his touch ignites a fire within you, reigniting the vibrant hues of your world. In the warmth of his embrace, you feel the dull ache of sadness dissipate, replaced by the kaleidoscope of emotions that accompany the return of his affection. It’s as if life’s dull monochrome has been replaced with a symphony of colors, painting your world anew.
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Rekindling your relationship with Jimin has been more than just good—it’s been a revival of your soul. With him by your side, you feel whole once more, the missing piece of your heart seamlessly slotting back into place. Despite the challenges that still loom on the horizon, you find solace in the simple truth that you have each other to rely on, to support and uplift in times of need. 
As two full moons have passed, the looming prospect of Deiji’s imminent labor hangs heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the complexities that have woven themselves into your life. Despite the passage of time, your disdain for her remains unyielding, fueled by a nagging sense of distrust that refuses to be quelled. You’ve voiced your suspicions to Jimin, laying bare the unsettling behaviors that gnaw at your conscience—her reluctance to reveal the results of the paternity test, the cryptic details surrounding her medical appointments, the sudden refusal to allow Jimin to accompany her, especially after your request to see the test results. With each revelation, Jimin’s eyes begin to open to the unsettling truth lurking beneath Deiji’s facade.
A creeping suspicion takes root within you, whispering the unsettling possibility that Deiji’s claims may be nothing more than elaborate fabrications. The thought lingers like a shadow in your mind, casting doubt upon the foundation of your reality. While a part of you entertains the notion that perhaps she never carried Jimin’s child at all, the implications of such deceit weigh heavily upon your conscience. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, the idea that unraveling her web of lies could potentially simplify your life, yet the thought of the devastation it would bring to Jimin is a sobering reminder of the delicate balance between truth and consequence.
In the face of adversity, you and Jimin are actively striving to strengthen your communication skills, recognizing the tendency to retreat into your own worlds when challenges arise. Both of you understand the paramount importance of articulating your thoughts and feelings openly and honestly, realizing that true connection and understanding can only flourish in the fertile soil of effective communication.
And so, you find yourself once more within the comforting confines of his home, the tantalizing aroma of dinner wafting through the air, stirring your appetite and igniting a sense of eager anticipation. As hungry as you were during your previous visit, this time the atmosphere is charged with a newfound warmth and intimacy, infusing the meal with an extra layer of significance. With each bite, you’re not only nourishing your body but also savoring the love and care that your boyfriend has poured into the culinary creation before you.
“Jimin, this looks absolutely mouthwatering,” you exclaim, your fork poised eagerly above the food, ready to indulge in the culinary masterpiece before you.
“Thanks, I hope it tastes as good as it looks,” he replies, a radiant smile gracing his features as he joins you in savoring the meal he's prepared with care.
The first bite is an explosion of flavors on your palate, a symphony of tastes that dance and mingle, leaving you craving more. It’s a culinary masterpiece, each ingredient harmonizing perfectly to create a sensation that delights every sense. This incredible man’s cooking never fails to amaze, leaving you in awe of his talent and grateful for the privilege of tasting his creations.
“I actually wanted to talk to you about something,” he interjects between bites, his expression thoughtful as he pauses to address the topic weighing on his thoughts.
Locked in a gaze brimming with boundless affection, you find yourself lost in the depths of his eyes, a silent exchange of love and understanding passing between you. With a gentle nod, you encourage him to continue, your heart swelling with anticipation for the words he’s about to share.
“I’ve been thinking about the arrival of the baby,” he begins, his eyes alight with curiosity, sparking a smile to bloom across your face in response. “Do you think we should prepare a special room for her? And where do you think she should be sleeping?”
“I believe she should start off in our room, close to us, but later she can get her own room” you propose, a smile gracing your lips as you envision the cozy arrangement.
“Hmm. Good idea. Thank you for being so cool about it and wanting to do it with me,” he expresses, his eyes shimmering with affection as he extends his hand across the table, silently inviting you to join him in this journey.
You cover his hand with yours, gently tracing circles on his skin as you speak softly, “I don’t know if I’d call it being cool, but I’m doing my best to navigate this new territory.” Despite the uncertainty looming ahead, you offer him a reassuring smile, knowing that embarking on this co-parenting journey will undoubtedly present challenges. Yet, with Jimin by your side, you feel a sense of strength and reassurance, a reminder that together, you can weather any storm.
“Well, thank you. It means everything to me,” he murmurs, his voice laden with gratitude as he leans across the table, closing the gap between you to plant a tender kiss on your lips.
You draw back slightly, your hands tenderly cradling his face, locking eyes with him as you whisper, “I love you, Jimin,” the words carrying the weight of your devotion and the promise of forever.
A warm smile graces his lips in response to your declaration, a silent acknowledgment of the deep love you share. Returning to your meal, a comfortable silence descends upon you both, enveloping you like a soft embrace, a tranquil refuge from the chaos of the world outside.
Raising your gaze, you wait patiently for his eyes to meet yours, the urgency of your words evident in your expression. “I truly believe you need to have a conversation with Deiji,” you urge, a sense of unease settling in your stomach. “There’s something off about all of this, something I can’t quite decipher,” you add, your voice laced with concern and the unspoken weight of intuition.
Jimin nods solemnly, his brows furrowing in concern. “You’re right. It’s been bothering me too. She’s been unresponsive to my texts lately,” he admits, his voice tinged with apprehension and a growing sense of unease.
“Perhaps it’s time to pay her a visit and have a heart-to-heart conversation,” you propose, a gentle smile gracing your lips.
“That sounds like a good idea,” he responds eagerly, his eyes alight with determination. With a renewed sense of purpose, you both continue to savor the meal, engaging in light-hearted conversation as you contemplate the impending discussion with Deiji.
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For an entire week, communication between you and Jimin has been scarce, lost amidst the whirlwind of chores and responsibilities that accompany life on your respective ranches. From dawn till dusk, your days blur together with the relentless tasks of sheep shearing, cattle herding, and countless other duties demanding your attention. Exhaustion seeps into your bones, leaving little energy for anything beyond the essential exchanges of ‘goodbye’ and ‘good morning’ shared over the phone, a stark reminder of the physical and emotional toll of your demanding lifestyles.
Tonight is one of those nights when every muscle in your body aches with weariness, longing for the soothing touch of Jimin’s hands to unravel the knots of tension and stress that cling stubbornly to your frame. The thought of sinking into the warm embrace of his oversized bathtub offers a glimmer of solace amidst the weariness, a sanctuary where the trials of ranch life can be temporarily forgotten. Despite feeling battered and bruised, the exhaustion of the day weighs heavy upon you, dragging you into the welcoming arms of sleep within mere minutes.
You’re unsure of how long you’ve been lost in slumber, but a peculiar scent and an eerie sound stir you from your rest. As consciousness slowly returns, your head feels heavy and your senses are muddled, the faint aroma of something resembling a campfire teasing your nostrils. The source of the scent eludes you, shrouded in the fog of fatigue that clouds your mind, as the haunting creak of wood contracting fills the air, sending a shiver down your spine.
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Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️
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writing-fanics · 11 months
Text
• when I’m with you •
Prince Eric x Reader
(Summary: you were from another island visiting and it seemed you’ve already stolen the princes heart)
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︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Eric watched as you walked around the marketplace, admiring it all as you took it all in. He couldn’t help but smile at your complete look of awestruck, seeing things you’ve never seen before.
He couldn’t help but chuckle, as your eyes widened at the new foods you tried. Flavors you’ve never tasted spices you weren’t familiar with that you now needed to bring back home to your home island. For everyone to try.
“Hot! Hot!” You exclaimed, at the spicy food your mouth on fire as the person behind the food stand quickly handed you a glass of water and you chugged it.
“Thank you,” you said, to the person behind the counter who chuckled and smiled. Your ears perked up, hearing music playing and a smile grew across your lips.
Eric had turned away for a moment and you were gone. Having made your way towards the music and started dancing along with everyone else.
A small child watched and you looked towards the child, and gestured for her to come dance with you. Her mother gave her a slight nudge and the girl shook her head. You frowned slightly and continued dancing, the child watching for a bit until she decided to join in.
You took the child’s hand and started dancing. Causing the child to laugh excitedly making everyone smile and clap along as you danced to the music.
Eric’s heart swelled, watching how you immediately won over people with your kindness and warm smile. Sadly, the child had to leave leaving you alone still dancing. Your eyes, glanced over at Eric and you immediately rushed over to him and pulled him in so the two of you could dance.
You’ve never had this much fun in your entire life. This island was much more lively, than your home island. More people were happy and kind, and cheerful when back at home. Everyone is struggling just to get by but here life seemed so much better.
You and Eric, danced until the music stopped the two of you becoming closer and closer as time went by. There is one last thing he had planned.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
Eric lead you to a little lake, where a rowboat was set up on the shore. You smiled, as he lead toward the rowboat. The two of you getting inside and the two of you placed your hands on the oars and started rowing. You smiled, at him and he smiled back at you.
“Your island, doesn’t compare to that of mine.” You said, looking at him, “Yours is just as beautiful as mine.” He said, and you shook your head.
“That’s a façade mine isn’t anything like yours. We’re struggling. My people are struggling and no matter how hard I try nothing seems to help.” You said, looking down at your hands.
Eric stopped rowing the boat for a bit, and placed his hand over yours. “You’re doing everything thing you can for your kingdom.” He said, and you looked up at him.
“You’re going to different islands to set up trades, to bring new foods and items. To improve the livelihood of your kingdom.” He said, and you couldn’t help but smile, “You’re doing what I wish my mother would let me do.” He said, and you couldn’t help but smile.
“My father was once the same, which is why we fell so behind.” You said, looking at Eric and remembered his hand was on yours causing you to blush slightly. He removed his hand and continued rowing the boat further out onto the lake.
You stared in wonder at the sky, seeing the man star constellations that the night sky had to offer. He smiled, and stopped rowing ocean again and laid back on the boat, taking notice you did the same.
And he started pointing out the star constellations, “Oh, that one is Leo.” He said, and you turned to look at him.
“That’s the one that’s shaped like a Lion right?” You asked, and he turned to look at you.
“Yep, thats the one.” He said, and you smiled listening intently as he talked about the star constellations. You couldn’t help but glance at him occasionally taking in all his features, something about him drew you closer. He was so compassionate and kind, and his yearning for exploration and the sea added to it.
“My favorite is Aries.” You said, pointing to the star constellation. “I named, my first cat after that constellation.” You said, and Eric looked at you.
“So you’re a cat person?” He asked, and you looked at him in shock, “Yes, don’t get me wrong I love dogs. But they aren’t my cup of tea. Max though he’s an exception.” You said, grinning at him.
The two of you looked eyes and stared at each other, something drawing you closer and you leaned into each other. Before you knew it, your lips pressed against each other in a passionate kiss. You’d never felt this way about anyone before so theses feelings were nothing but new.
You smiled, as he kissed back he placed his hand on your cheek deepening the kiss. and you placed to your hands on his chest. What felt like hours were only mere seconds, and the two of you pulled back from the kiss and stared each other in the eye before chuckling and heading back to shore.
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