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hawtlineblingz · 7 months ago

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My Thoughts on Zayne's Hidden Motive Discourse

pic : chibiayato (x)

Disclaimer : this post is made as a response and purely written by my understanding and opinion on recent discourse that happened on tiktok regarding the hate and mischaracterization on Zayne. This post isn't proof read and English is not my first spoken language so i appologize for bad grammar / spelling mistakes and i hope my points and arguments can came trough correcty.

! DO NOT REPOST TO OTHER PLATFORM (link shares are okay) !

Context :

I'd like to put out my arguments, as proof that i highly do not support the narration, the hate train from TikTok community has on zayne saying "they made him a pushover wattpad boy on this card" and said this card is Zayne being very OOC.

Before putting out my thoughts. I want to point out that i wrote this based on the game's JP Dub because i understood Japanese better and i just want to say that there are alot of contexts and implied language that unfortunatelly got lost on the EN translations.

[Proof media shown below]

Quick summary of the card and proofs :

At the beginning of this memory MC got injured on a mission and zayne suddenly was positioned as the helping medical staff for the area that MC we're working on though he lied about his reasoning during this moment.

Their interaction is highly implied that zayne communicates with her as Zayne the Doctor and Zayne as MC's romantic partner.

Its clear that zayne uses different words when talking with her as a Doctor and as a non platonic partner and so is his tone when speaking.

Proof 1 :

After treating her wound as a doctor, he put MC hair behind her ears and, told her that he's going back to work.

(Vid down below)

If u watch the JP dub u can clearly tell this is him playing 2 different figures at the same time.

Proof 2 :

When MC we're talking to the kid that she saved, Alfred, he told her that she was very strong, and she asked if he wants to see her solid abs. But then Zayne came in, while coughing, and said

Though on the JP dub he says "That's useless, a kid shouldn't be seeing that". In a teasing way, though his tone is very stoic and he said it with a poker face.

And after that he spoke to her switching being a doctor and a partner again, when he told her to wait in the treating room 5. He does this for litterally the whole menoria, but i think 2 examples are enough as a proof.

Proof 3 :

The mention of "fortune telling". A reference to Zayne's MYTH 2. It's not really important but i just wanna point this one out to argue that during this conversation Zayne n MC clearly have a healthy realtionship he mentions alot about her wellbeing as a very important part of his stress management, seeing her well and able to banter with him put his mind at ease, knowing MC's nature to be a little bit reckless and clumsy.

Proof 4 :

When Alfred told MC and Zayne that they we're invited to the farewell ceremony, and asked them if they could attend, she bargained Zayne for his time to appreciate the people on the area, calling him "医者のおじさん" or Uncle Doctor. And Zayne referes to himself as both Uncle Doctor and Brother Doctor or "医者のお兄さん" now this is very important. Because this shows a concrete proof that Zayne has been playing 2 person figures during his time at the local's hospital. As Dr. Zayne and 'just' Zayne.

On the JP dub he said "Uncle Doctor might be busy, but Brother Doctor might have some time to spare". This important context is basically not translated well on the EN dub. And he is not acting OOC.

Proof 5 :

At the farewell ceremony, MC and Zayne talked about life and death meaning and value, as a hunter and a doctor. On this part u can clearly hear Zayne is a little bit upset on how reckless MC is as if she doesn't value her life enough to help people. She told him about already having her last wishes but she stopped herself because he interupted her, Zayne is upset, again, u can hear him clearly not happy at the way she positioned herself and her life against danger and death.

He made his boundaried clear especially having to positioned himself as a cardiac surgeon on how it's hard when he had touched someone's naked beating heart on his own palm, doing an OC-CPR. Trying to save that person.

During this time MC fell silent as she think about everything and rechoose her words, reminding herself how difficult it is to prevent and save someone from death.

Proof 6 :

When the lanterns being released to the sky MC said that the lights is beautiful, he nods at her saying "yes, its beautiful" but he didn't even turn around to look at the lantern, his eyes are glued to her posing for the picture. A VERY IMPORTANT POINT, he admited that he IS talking about her, not the lantern. You can tell on how his yearning for her is growing here, It's not everyday Zayne can be this transparent with his intentions especially when being asked.

Proof 7 :

As MC fell asleep on his car after the flight he asked if she wants him to drop him off at her place, but then he asked again, gently, if she wants to just stay at his place. Again, hints for his yearning on his voice.

NOW. This one has been a point of hate on Zayne because on the EN translation he said this :

While on JP he said "if u can't answer it now, i'm assuming it's a okay". Now this sentence implying a hint of worryness on how tired and sleepy she was.

The people on tiktok pointed out that Zayne did not care about her consent while on the card, is clearly said that MC did KNEW and RECALL she went straight to Zayne's house. The situation isn't like as if Zayne took her somewhere shady without her consent. And he treated her with so much care by cooking her breakfast.

Proof 8 :

Now here Greyson exposes Zayne to MC that he insisted that he wanted to took the medical mission on a high risk quaranteened area, even though he was positioned on a less dangerous area beforehand. He even said Zayne acts like he doesn't care much trough his words but Zayne is actually CARES and WORRIES about her alot.

We can see trough out his latest cards, every emotions are drawn on his voice and body language.

Proof 9 :

During this part it stated that Zayne did gave MC permission to overstep his boundaries by pursing his lips, giving permission MC to touch his skin.

- every convo during this part is Zayne flirting with MC and the boombayah happened and they took a nice nap-

Proof 10 :

Post sex nap convo between Zayne n MC shows how Zayne has changed as a person, his tone is very gentle and witty, clearly he's comfortable with her, and another clear sign of a healthy relationship. On this moment, Zayne starts up a topic about being open, and straightforward is very important to him, but MC revoked Zayne by saying he also isn't being transparent with her, Zayne kisses her forehead and said that he hates hearing things about her wellbeing from other people, it made him feel like an outsider. And the rest of the conversations is MC and Zayne giving each other reassurance regarding keeping each other safe and sound.

Now i'd like to mention a few things from Zayne's previous card, Snowy Serenity, and a few things from Zayne's Find Tobias' (Abyssal Chaos) coversations with MC.

That the main 2 problems within Zayne and MC's relationship are :

1. Zayne is really bad at letting people hear what they wanted to hear even if it's to give the other person a sense of security, he sometimes a bit too blunt and too honest, but he's willing to work it out. This was also briefly mentioned on the Heartwork Routine Event.

2. Zayne and MC is struggling to be alot more open with each other because they don't want to worry their partner.

On Abyssal Chaos MC said that Zayne has changed by being more bold and flexible with her. Shown how much he's being alot more confident in engaging PDA.

The pattern with them is they both need something impactful and intimate to be able to open up. On Snowy Serenity Zayne was missing. And on Hidden Motive MC was injured. But after that theres an improvement between their relationship as the intimacy gave them a safe space to be open to one and another.

The Zayne hate on TikTok mainly focuses on how they said Zayne is turning into another wattpad boy and everything is OOC, but from the proofs i have stated above clearly i dont agree with that because i see it as Zayne and MC are both working out their relationship, and Zayne is constantly working himself up to be a better person who is willing to communicate.

The crowd on TikTok are blaming Infold and Sylus for "dragging" Zayne into another Wattpad based character while, again, I think Zayne character development is very well written, i don't feel like this card is fanservice-y, even though this whole game is a fanservice, i get it, it's one of the selling point of an otome game.

The thing with Zayne being bolder when it comes to intimacy shows on how much MC already trusts him, and how he has become very comfortable with her, Zayne is the type of person who has a habit of bottling his emotions, even though he got praised by almost everyone for his incredible self control. But Zayne on this timeline is a normal human being with physical - spiritual needs and emotions, not a demigod, not a mythical creature. Zayne himself has a breaking point considering how much restraint, yearning, has been closed of from affections he already been trough growing up. AND him letting loose his self control and lowering his guard down is not an incredibly OOC act, in fact most of the time initiated the intimate acts as shown on his previous cards, once MC flags up her green flag he took the lead.

Plus, this is a relationship is between two consenting adults. Everyone can tell this isn't the first time they engage in intimate / sexual activity.

As time goes by and the story progresses obviously we're going to see changes, and process within the characters. Zayne is not a block of wood and he is not an exception. Blaming Sylus and Infold writter for this is also not a solution, even Sylus himself is not a typical wattpad / booktok CEO. Though, again in otome games it's very common to have tropes between the love interest and the protagonist. I just hope the hate on Zayne stops, because i honestly enjoys his character writing. Same with the TikTok community hate on Xavier saying he gr00med MC, and saying Caleb is into inc3st relationship, i don't even understood how the mischaracterization on the boys are so severe on TikTok it's kind of sad.

Infold writers incorporates so many linguistics and cultural reference that's also a shame it's not translated well enough to the EN sub and dub so often times people missed their opportunity to understand why the card title is "Hidden Motive".

Ending statement from me is that i wish many players would do their own indepth reading and understanding before making a misleading scene on social media, this is why sometimes a certain fandom / community can't have nice things because of their own fandom and actions can lead to a train of hate and misconceptions regarding the game and our boys.

Proofs exhibit below

I highly suggest to watch the whole card on EN dub and other language dub (on this case its JP dub) as a comparison because the underlying contexts on some of the sentences are different.

#love and deepspace #lnds #zayne #l&ds #zayne love and deepspace #xavier #sylus #rafayel #zayne x mc #zayne x reader

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rpfshippingpolls · 4 months ago

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⚠️ DON’T START DISCOURSE ABOUT RPF IN THE NOTES!! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED IF YOU DO SO ⚠️

Do you ship it?

Reason:

“What if we were both revolutionaries and we kissed? (Read Che's farewell letter to Fidel)”

Submitted by @castroxche

#do you ship this rpf ship #rpf #real person fiction #rps #real person shipping #shipping #shipping poll #fidel castro #che guevara #chedel #revolutionaries #politicians

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friarmusings · 2 years ago

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Orphans

This coming Sunday is the 6th Sunday of Easter in Lectionary Cycle A. “I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.” The second promise of continuing presence is Jesus’ promise of his own return (vv. 18-20). “Orphan” (orphanos) was a common metaphor to describe disciples left without their master but the use of the metaphor here has a special poignancy in the light of the familial and…

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#Commandments #Farewell discourse

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verstappensrealwife · 1 year ago

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Just Friends - Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

[ lando norris masterlist / f1 masterlist]

ʚɞ in which... they go from friends to lover. ʚɞ fluff ⋆⭒˚.⋆ 2300 words ʚɞ warnings: drinking alcohol, mentions of drunkness, kissing.

-୨♡୧-

You have known Lando practically since the day you took your first breath—well, maybe not quite that early, but close enough. He was barely two when you entered the world, your mothers having been friends since their school days. So, it was only natural that he made an appearance at the hospital with his mother to welcome you into the world.

His first reaction upon meeting you was a mixture of surprise and disappointment, his innocent query about your gender met with tears when your mother revealed you were, indeed, a baby girl. It's a story you never fail to bring up whenever he expresses admiration for you.

"Y/N, you're such an amazing person," he mumbled, his words slightly slurred from the alcohol, as you practically carried him through the pulsating lights and booming music of the club. His arm draped heavily over your shoulders, you were on a mission to save him from humiliating himself with an ill-advised karaoke rendition of a Queen song.

"You didn't think I was this great when I was born," you quipped, your own sobriety a stark contrast to his inebriated state. In fact, you hadn't planned on being in the club at all. It was Lando who had insisted on your presence, summoning you to "rescue him from this esteemed establishment!"

Today, Lando, you and a few others found yourselves dining together. The evening air was balmy, with the soft glow of summer casting a golden hue through the windows, illuminating your face in a particularly enchanting manner.

He won’t deny looking at you a little longer sometimes, and quickly coming to his senses by stopping immediately. Just a friend.

You found yourselves amidst the lively celebration of a friend's engagement, nestled by a large window that framed the enchanting evening sky. The restaurant exuded a cosy ambiance, with lush greenery draping the walls and vibrant artwork adorning every corner. Across the room, the exposed brick walls added a touch of rustic charm to the eclectic space.

The table before you was a veritable feast, adorned with an array of delectable dishes and overflowing drinks—empty glasses serving as a testament to the spirited revelry that had unfolded. Amidst the cheerful chatter of your companions, you found yourself engaged in a spirited discourse with your friend beside you, passionately expounding on the intricacies of drink measurements, though your slightly slurred speech betrayed your less-than-sober state.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, ethereal glow over the scene, you settled your portion of the bill and rose from your seat, bidding farewell to each friend with warm hugs and heartfelt kisses. Exiting the restaurant alongside Lando, you were met with the cool night air and the anticipation of your awaiting ride.

With the Uber en route and a mere seven minutes away, you and Lando stood side by side in comfortable silence, the faint glow of his phone illuminating his features as he scrolled through Instagram. Occasionally, he would eagerly show you a post, finding amusement in the most obscure content, prompting an amused quirk of your eyebrow or an incredulous shake of your head.

When he insisted on the hilarity of yet another post, you regarded him with mock incredulity, your eyes silently questioning his sense of humour. His playful insistence only served to deepen your amusement, eliciting a hearty laugh that bubbled from deep within your chest.

The video showed himself as “Lando Norizz”.

"I do have ‘rizz’, you know," he declared with mock indignation.

“As if,” You snorted, “Prove it tough guy.”

Drawing closer to you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. The proximity of his body, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and the intensity of his gaze should have rendered you speechless—if only you were sober. Instead, you couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound ringing out into the night air.

Apologies tumbled from your lips between fits of laughter, though any offence Lando might have felt had quickly dissolved into shared amusement. Chuckling together, you settled into the Uber, the echoes of your laughter filling the night as you made your way home.

As you stumbled through the door of your apartment, Lando in tow, the weight of laughter and shared moments still lingering in the air, you tossed your keys onto the side table with a careless flick and collapsed onto the inviting embrace of the couch. Without missing a beat, Lando joined you, his presence a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of the night. With an affectionate eye roll, you nudged him playfully as he settled beside you, the warmth of his body a familiar presence against your own.

He reached for the remote, his fingers brushing against yours in a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down your spine. He flicked on the TV, the ambient murmur of the characters serving as a gentle backdrop to the two of you being occupied by other things. Despite the lure of the TV screen, your attention remained steadfastly on the book you were reading, Lando’s on his twitter feed.

"Was my charm really that terrible?" he queried out of the blue.

You glanced up, eyebrows knitting together in contemplation before offering a nonchalant shrug. "It wasn't horrendous," you admitted.

"So... any pointers? What went wrong?" he pressed, a hint of curiosity lacing his words.

"Because I was a tad more drunk thirty minutes ago, and besides, we're friends," you replied matter-of-factly, returning your attention to the book you had been engrossed in.

As the weight of your words settled between you, Lando felt a pang of realisation pierce through him like a dagger. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a truth he had been oblivious to until that moment. The casual dismissal of his attempts at charm stung deeper than he cared to admit, a stark reminder of the invisible barrier that separated them. With a heavy heart, he watched you return to your book, the distance between you feeling more pronounced than ever before. In that fleeting moment, Lando's gaze lingered on you, his heart aching with the silent acknowledgment of what could never be—a realisation that left him feeling more alone than he had ever felt before.

He coughed awkwardly, the sound breaking the tense atmosphere like a fragile thread snapping under pressure, and rose from his seat with uncharacteristic haste. "I- um- I'm gonna go to bed," he mumbled, his words stumbling over each other in a clumsy attempt to fill the silence.

"Alright," you replied, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched him retreat. "No funny business in my spare room!" you called after him, injecting a note of levity into the moment.

His laughter echoed in the hallway, a bittersweet melody that lingered long after he had disappeared from view, leaving behind a lingering ache in his chest as he wrestled with the realisation that his unspoken desires would forever remain unfulfilled.

The next morning, as you nursed your slight hangover with a steaming cup of coffee, you sought solace in scrolling through TikToks in the comfort of your kitchen. The first few videos passed by in a blur of mundane content, until your own face suddenly appeared on the screen.

You weren't a celebrity by any means, but being known as Lando's friend had its consequences, as evidenced by the video capturing the previous night's awkward encounter outside the restaurant. Your groan echoed in the quiet kitchen as you watched the clip unfold, realising with a sinking feeling that your innocent moment with Lando had been misconstrued by the watching world.

He was mere centimetres away from you in the video, his gaze unmistakably fixed on your lips with an intensity that made your cheeks flush with embarrassment. It was clear to anyone watching that his intentions had been misinterpreted, yet the damage had already been done. As the video looped, each replay serving as a painful reminder of the misunderstanding, you couldn't help but wonder how something so innocent had been twisted into something else entirely.

As you read through the comments, a curious mixture of amusement and surprise washed over you as you noticed a recurring theme emerging: shipping you and your friend, Lando. At first, you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all, scoffing at the playful speculation and fanciful theories concocted by strangers on the internet. But as you delved deeper into the comments, something shifted within you.

With each passing remark, you couldn't shake the nagging sense of recognition that began to take hold. You found yourself reflecting on the countless moments you and Lando had shared together— the inside jokes, the late-night conversations, the unwavering support through thick and thin. And as you considered the undeniable bond that existed between you, you couldn't help but acknowledge the striking parallels between your friendship and that of a romantic relationship

Suddenly, the playful banter and lighthearted teasing that had once been the hallmark of your friendship took on a new significance, leaving you grappling with the realisation that perhaps there was more to your connection with Lando than you had initially realised. With a newfound sense of introspection, you closed your phone, the words of the commenters lingering in your mind as you pondered the possibility of something more between you and your friend.

As the minutes ticked by and your thoughts swirled with newfound clarity, a profound realisation settled within you like a weight in your chest: you wanted him. Wanted him in a way that transcended the boundaries of friendship, in every conceivable sense. You wanted his laughter to be the melody that filled your days, his warmth to be the comfort that enveloped you in moments of doubt, his presence to be the anchor that grounded you amidst life's storms.

Yet, amidst the fervent desire that pulsed through your veins, a gnawing uncertainty gnawed at the edges of your newfound revelation. Did he feel the same? Did he see you as anything more than just a friend? The questions lingered, casting a shadow of doubt over your burgeoning feelings, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of apprehension at the prospect of laying your heart bare.

With a heavy sigh, you leaned back against the kitchen counter, the weight of your newfound realisation settling upon you like a mantle. The path ahead was uncertain, fraught with the potential for heartache and rejection, yet amidst the swirling tumult of emotions, one thing remained clear: you couldn't ignore the undeniable truth of your own heart any longer.

As he strolled into the kitchen, the sight of him shirtless and clad in joggers that seemed all too familiar sent a jolt of warmth coursing through you. Yet, as you met his gaze, the weight of your realisation pressed heavily upon you, urging you to confront the truth that had been swirling in your mind. "Did you know people shipped us?" you blurted out, unable to contain the urgency in your voice.

He shrugged nonchalantly, a flicker of something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he masked it with a casual indifference. But you knew better. You could see the subtle tension in the set of his jaw, the guardedness in his expression. He had known—had felt the weight of those speculative gazes just as keenly as you had. "I guess so," he replied with a noncommittal shrug, his tone carefully neutral. "Why?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications, and you found yourself grappling with the sudden urge to lay bare your heart before him, to confess the depth of your feelings and the tumultuous journey of self-discovery that had led you to this moment. But as you met his gaze, the uncertainty that clouded your mind held you back, leaving the words trapped on the tip of your tongue, unspoken yet pulsing with a fervency that threatened to consume you.

Without a word, he took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking until you could feel the heat of his body radiating against your skin.

In that charged moment, with the weight of unspoken words pressing down upon you, you felt something shift within you—a primal urge to seize the moment, to bridge the gap between friendship and something more. And so, fueled by the fire of your newfound realisation and the palpable tension that hung between you, you closed the whole distance between you in a single, daring move.

With a trembling hand, you reached up to cup his cheek, the warmth of his skin electrifying against your touch. And then, with a surge of courage that bordered on reckless abandon, you pressed your lips to his, the kiss a declaration of desire and longing that transcended words.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the intoxicating sweetness of the moment, the taste of him searing itself into your memory with every brush of his lips against yours. And in that fleeting instant, as the world fell away around you, you knew with a certainty that resonated deep within your soul: this was where you were meant to be.

As you pulled back, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you met his gaze with a newfound sense of clarity and certainty. And in the quiet understanding that passed between you, there was no need for words—just the simple, unspoken acknowledgment of the bond that had always been there, waiting to be embraced.

With a soft laugh and a tender squeeze of his hand, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, hand in hand, hearts entwined in a love that was as simple as it was profound. And as you leaned in to rest your head against his chest, basking in the warmth of his embrace, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement for the journey that lay ahead—a journey that promised to be filled with laughter, love, and countless moments of simple, unadulterated joy.

El fin.

this is the best thing i have ever written in my many years of life. thank you me.

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sinon36 · 11 months ago

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Husband!Ghost x teacher!reader HC

As I lay in bed, it's 5 am. My alarm is supposed to ring at 7 am. Insomnia hits again. So here we go! Enjoy the product of my foggy brain!

Warnings: fluff, some mentions of torture, curse words, insomnia, nightmares, threats, stalking but it's good natured, some mistakes ( grammar and spelling), interact at your own discretion.

When you first met it happened in the nonstop supermarket at the intersection a couple blocks from his apartment. It was 3 am. You were looking for coloured paper, he was looking for Kentucky burbon.

Both of you couldn't sleep for very different reasons. He just got back from a long mission, unable to sleep in his own bed, his own apartment, not as familiar as the base, always bustling with activity. The house was too quiet. Ears straining to hear something. An understimulated brain makes up sounds, that turn to memories, then night terrors. He was out in search of relief, getting so drunk he'd pass out and get some shut-eye.

You on the other hand were finishing up on materials for your little students. And then you needed coloured paper to finish. You huff and puff, and almost curse out but refrain from doing so, looking at your wristwatch you determine you have a few hours until the school day begins. Do you trudge to the intersection, hopping, begging for mercy and coloured paper.

You were the only ones there besides the half-asleep cashier. Your sound of triumph at having found what you're looking for travels to the liquor aisle. Simon's eyes point in your direction, not really sure he actually heard it or hallucinated it.

At the register, you cut him off not even noticing his dark-clad 6'3 body, whiskey bottle in hand. He let out a 'bloody hell', an almost whisper, but your teacher's instinct kicked in. 'Language' you'd said in a chastised voice eyes darting to fix him with a glare, the same you'd do to the children in class. But instead of a meager 'apologies, miss' you get a grunt out of him. You glare some more and turn away, making a barely audible comment directed at him. Naturally, he confronted you on that and you went on and gave him a lecture on how people like him make your work 10 times harder and how they are a bad example to future generations.

Both him and the cashier look at you like you've grown two heads. Honestly, the young guy behind the cash register, thought you might start a fight with the graveyard shift regular wearing a balaclava and buying alcohol well into the hours of morning.

But you didn't. After having said what you had to say you turned around on your heels, slapped the two packets of coloured paper in front of the young man, and then angrily put the money in his outstretched hand. You left in a flurry of murmurs, not even acknowledging the farewell words.

'feisty' he had commented eyes trailing on your departing figure. He chuckled at your interaction. That day he drank himself into unconsciousness thinking of you, and your plush lips spewing insults in his face, eyes alight with passion, face scrunched in barely contained annoyance.

You were a primary school teacher, that much he has gathered from your discourse. He wanted to see you again, and walking around aimlessly he came across the nearest school in the neighborhood. He started searching for your face behind closed windows. He had found you and waited for you, like the stalker that he'd turned into. He hoped you wouldn't call the cops on him.

As you near the gates, two rows of 3rd-year students behind you, loudly talking about how much fun they had with you. You laughed at their happy and springy attitude. They were the best students you've had so far.

And then your eyes met brown ones in a staring match. You'd walked closer starting to threaten him to go before you got him removed from the premises. He smiled under his balaclava, eyes watching in admiration. 'let's grab dinner...' he interrupted you. 'huh?' that was the most articulate answer you could muster. 'I owe you a proper apology. So dinner on me.' He explained in chopped sentences the voice deep and laced with a Manchester accent.

You forgot what you were saying and blushed hard, a cute smile plastered to your face. You were so easily swooned by this stranger and his interest in you. He could have been a killer or kidnapper. You threw caution to the wind. You said yes.

And now, now you were happily married, a couple years into it, actually. The house you bought is small but cosy. The living room table is always full of clippings of coloured paper and half finished materials strewn about. It's home for Simon.

He knows you're busy with schoolwork when he's deployed, so he doesn't worry about you missing him too much. But you do, and he misses you tenfold. So you make something for him, a little couloured origami frame that contains a picture of the two of you, for him to have. He carries it in his chest pocket, but only on base, where he knows it's safe to do so. Being captured with personal things like this in his possession could give the enemy leverage over him. He knows that, he's an expert in interrogation techniques. But he doesn't tell you all this, he knows you're sensitive to violence. So he instead promises that he will keep it close to his heart, all the time. His lucky charm. You're enamoured with him and he basks in your love without shame.

To be continued...

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

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darcytaylor · 8 months ago

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Luke Newton & social media/instagram

I've seen some people be pretty upset about Luke Newton's social media activity and his lack of posting/liking/commenting.

While I do think that he could be using his social media in a more productive way. I think that there are valid reasons as to why he is doing what he is doing.

Luke has mentioned that he wants to use his social media for work related things, rather than for his personal life. I think this is a good approach for any actor, they can showcase their work and passion, and I believe this would probably help with their mental health. Social media is not for the weak!

(there is a reason why so many influencers need to take time offline for their mental health, online environments can be toxic and just a downright scary place to be)

So when you have an actor, who is famous for their acting and not an influencer where you need to be online constantly for your job. I'd say making your online profile work related rather than personal makes complete sense.

(I think that when Luke decided to do it, it was a decision that was made a little too late. Making his profile more professional right before the promo tour didn't give the fans time to adapt to his new normal of posting)

Social media can be a stressful and an overwhelming place (even with my small amount of followers, I can be overwhelmed, I don't know how I would ever deal with millions of people).

This brings me to Luke consistently bringing up how overwhelming season 3 and him being the lead is.

It's actually somewhat sad to take a look at past interviews and see how many times he brings it up. He is already trying to cope with his rising fame, and it is obviously effecting him in a stressful way. Any normal person would try to take away any unnecessary areas in their life that would cause more stress. I think Luke is choosing social media.

Unlike Nicola, who I have commented on multiple occasions how good she is at her job, in all areas including social media. But not everybody has the ability to do that. Not everybody can fully take on millions of people, a career, a private life, a social life with the grace she does.

Nicola is not the standard of how most people can handle things. She is an anomaly. This is also why I think that comparing Luke and Nicola in regards to posting BTS and farewell posts is kind of cruel to Luke.

Luke is also credited as being empathetic, sensitive, introverted, and a people pleaser (all of which tie into his anxiety).

I think because of this it is normal that he would shield himself off from the world. Disconnect from the outside world to protect himself.

I also believe that this could make someone throw caution at every post and comment made on their socials. Anxiety makes you second guess every action, every thought. You want to make everybody happy, but you could be damned if you do and damned if you don't, so you just don't. It's not worth it.

Then there is the issue of Luke making those questionable PR moves a few weeks ago. I think Luke is trying to regroup and come to terms with the fact that he messed up in that regard. His career took a step back because of his actions that were brought forward through social media. I think he believes that the best way forward is to distance himself from it while he figures out his surroundings, especially since he had already mentioned that's what he was going to do.

(I know some people think he made zero mistakes, but this is an area I strongly believe some mistakes were made)

I also believe that because of the bad discourse going around about him online and through professionals, Luke must be scared to make the wrong move and/or the wrong choice.

Luke has wanted to be on stage/act at a very young age. I can see that he is very passionate about it. I think he saw that slipping away from him slightly. Especially since Bridgerton and being a lead was supposed to do the opposite. He's probably going to do most things with a bit more caution and social media is on that list.

Let's try not to hold much thought into how Luke's social media is presented.

Should he maybe hand his social media over to somebody else to manage? I think that could be a smart move.

Do I think that if he did post something completely endearing about Bridgerton and Nicola he would appease a lot of fans? Also yes, but like I stated above, I believe there are multiple things holding him back currently.

It's okay to be disappointed that Luke doesn't upload or comment regularly. You can also be disappointed in the content he is posting. But it's only social media. Most of the time social media is fake anyway.

#luke newton #nicola coughlan #bridgerton #bridgerton season 3

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sweetrululu · 29 days ago

Text

“A Call from the Unknown”Part 1/2 Helsa Fanfic

The ballroom gleamed with the glow of crystal chandeliers, their light dancing across the polished wood floors and the rich fabrics of the guests. The swaying of silk gowns and dress uniforms added an almost ethereal quality to the evening. The great hall’s doors were open, letting the crisp autumn breeze flow through the guests, whispering between laughter, murmurs, and the sweet sound of the string quartet.

Elsa, flawless in a lilac gown, listened politely to a count as he discoursed on the recent restorations in the capital. She nodded at the appropriate moments, smiled when expected, but her mind wandered in an entirely different direction.

A stray note, barely a whisper in the orchestra, sent a shiver down her spine.

It wasn’t the music. It wasn’t the conversation.

It was something else.

A voice. Distant. Calling to her.

She blinked, forcing herself to focus on the nobleman, who continued speaking, oblivious to her unease. This was not the time.

And yet, despite her efforts, the voice persisted.

Uneasy, she let her gaze drift across the room, searching without truly knowing what for. The guests laughed, conversed, raised their glasses in a toast to Arendelle’s prosperity. Anna passed by, arm in arm with Kristoff, her cheeks flushed with the warmth of the moment, laughter spilling effortlessly from her lips. Kristoff pulled her closer, whispering something in her ear, and the way they looked at each other—with absolute certainty, with shared devotion—made something in Elsa’s chest tighten.

She remembered another closeness.

She remembered the warmth of hands that should never have felt so natural against her skin.

She remembered the weight of a body against hers, the restrained desperation in a kiss, the broken promise in a whisper.

Hans.

It had been months since she let him go. Months since that night when, she had allowed her feelings to triumph over reason. Since, entwined in the darkness, she had told him yes. That she wanted him. That everything would change.

And at dawn, with the cold weight of duty pressing on her shoulders, she had bid him farewell.

For the good of Arendelle.

For her own good.

For his.

Or so she had wanted to believe.

Her breath grew heavier, her pulse unsteady.

And then, as if fate itself were mocking her torment, she saw him.

On the other side of the ballroom.

Air rushed from her lungs all at once, as if the entire room had plunged into an impossible silence. The music continued, laughter rippled around her, but for Elsa, everything faded except the figure standing before her.

It was him.

He looked impeccable, with the aristocratic bearing and calculated elegance of a man who knew how to navigate any court. There was no trace in his expression of the monster who had once raised a sword against her life, nor of the remorseful young man who had once confessed his love in a whisper. No. There stood the prince—the man he had always been—with a barely perceptible smile on his lips, a smile that had once captivated her and now only unsettled her.

No one had warned her of his presence. And the shock hit her with such intensity that it almost made her step back. But at the same time, as she looked at him, a warm sensation began to fill her chest. It had been so long since she had seen him, and she had missed him so much… It was a whirlwind of emotions that flooded her as her steps took her closer to him. The warmth in her chest was stronger than the fear or confusion, and for a moment, she felt an indescribable happiness at the sight of him.

She took a deep breath. This wasn’t the time for hesitation.

With the grace of a queen, she moved forward, each step a battle between the desire to run toward him and the dignity she had to uphold. When she finally stood before him, Hans made a flawless bow, his bearing impeccable.

“Your Majesty,” he said with polished courtesy, his deep voice controlled, betraying no emotion.

Elsa blinked, feeling her heart race. His name escaped her lips before she could stop herself:

“Hans.”

He raised an eyebrow. He didn’t flinch, but in the barely perceptible curve of his lips, there was something akin to irony.

“Prince Hans, if I may, Your Majesty. I am no longer the man who once worked in your palace.”

The correction was an unexpected blow. Elsa held his gaze, but conscious of the crowd surrounding them, she opted for a diplomatic smile.

“Of course,” she replied serenely. “My apologies, Prince Hans. What brings you here?”

Her tone was meant to sound casual, but even to her own ears, it wasn’t convincing.

“Well, I had the impression—from your letter—that you had invited me yourself,” he replied with a hint of amusement. “But now I see it was one of your vassals.”

Elsa let out a brief, nervous laugh, unsure of how to respond.

The silence that followed was thick, heavy with everything they hadn’t said since his departure. Their eyes met, and for a moment, Elsa felt time fold in on itself, pulling her back to that night—to the promises made in the darkness, to the certainty with which he had believed her words.

Hans averted his gaze for just a second, as if trying to read something in her expression, searching for an answer that never came. But before he could say anything, a soft, melodic voice interrupted the moment.

“Hans? Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Elsa turned, and the air around her seemed to grow colder.

The woman approaching had the elegance of a Renaissance painting—tall, slender, with dark hair cascading in perfect waves over her shoulders and eyes as enchantingly blue as the sky. Her apple-green gown highlighted her sun-kissed skin with an almost unreal charm.

Hans straightened.

“Your Majesty,” he said smoothly, “allow me to introduce Viscountess Clarisse of the Élysian Peninsula. Viscountess, Her Majesty Queen Elsa of Arendelle.”

The viscountess gave a small, graceful bow, executed with practiced perfection. Then, with effortless delicacy, she looped her arm through Hans’s.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty.”

Her voice was soft, charming, with a warmth Elsa hadn’t expected.

“Hans has told me so much about you.”

Elsa’s stomach tightened.

“Has he?”

“Oh, yes,” Clarisse replied with a sincere smile. “Of course, he could never quite capture your greatness with words, but now I understand what he meant.”

Elsa felt her throat constrict. Deep down, she had hoped to find something that would help her despise this woman—some flaw, some imperfection that would justify the discomfort tightening in her chest. But no.

“I must be honest, Your Majesty,” the viscountess continued, “your display of magic at this morning’s reception was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”

Elsa gave a small nod, unsure of how to respond.

“I have always admired what you and your sister have accomplished here in Arendelle,” Clarisse added naturally. “Perhaps I should consider acquiring a summer villa near the fjord.”

Hans let out a soft chuckle.

“Don’t do it, Clarisse,” he teased. “If you see snow in July, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Clarisse laughed sweetly and placed her hand on the young prince’s chest—an action that made Elsa’s stomach tighten even more.

“Oh, but that would only add to the charm of the experience. Besides, what is a touch of snow compared to the majesty of this kingdom?”

Hans tilted his head, wearing that smile Elsa knew all too well.

“You know exactly what to say to captivate an entire court, Viscountess.”

“Only those that deserve to be captivated” Clarisse replied, throwing a playful wink in Elsa’s direction.

Hans’s laughter rang out effortlessly, and it stung. Elsa, on the other hand, remained still. Something inside her tightened, coiled, like a rope on the verge of snapping.

“Yes, of course,” she murmured, summoning a monumental effort to maintain her composure.

But then, with the same effortless grace with which she had steered the conversation so far, Clarisse turned slightly toward her, a thoughtful expression on her face.

“Your Majesty, I must say, what Prince Hans is doing for the Southern Isles is truly admirable.”

Elsa blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected shift in conversation.

“Oh? Is that so?” she asked, keeping her tone measured.

Clarisse nodded enthusiastically, her words neither forced nor sycophantic.

“Since he returned to his role in the naval fleet, he has spearheaded significant improvements in the region’s maritime security. Constantly traveling, securing trade routes, overseeing infrastructure projects… On my last visit to the capital, there wasn’t a single port where people didn’t speak of his work with the utmost respect.”

Elsa felt a slight shiver, something unexpected rising in her chest.

Pride.

Against all odds, pride for him. For what he had achieved. For what he had become.

And at the same time, a pang of something darker.

She had kept herself busy, focused on her own responsibilities—on her duty as queen and sister. And yet, he… he had not been waiting.

He had moved on.

“Congratulations, Prince Hans,” was all she could say.

Hans inclined his head with a measured smile. Clarisse smiled too, satisfied.

“I believe we should take our leave. We’ve monopolized the Queen’s attention for far too long,” he said.

Clarisse offered him a warm smile before bowing slightly once more to Elsa.

“It has been an honor to meet you, Queen Elsa. I hope we have the chance to speak again later.”

Hans held Elsa’s gaze for a moment longer, as if the weight of unspoken words hung between them. Then, with a slight bow, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Elsa watched as he and Clarisse moved effortlessly through the crowd. With her spirits sinking, she too left the ballroom with measured steps.

Only when she was out of sight, alone in an empty corridor, she allowed the weight of the night to catch up with her.

And for the first time in a long while, she let the tears fall.

How could he be here, in Arendelle, with another woman? How could he walk by her side, arm in arm with that viscountess, as if it meant nothing?

The memory of their last night together surged through her mind with devastating force: their hands entwined, the whispered words of love they had shared, the way she had let down every defense—for him, and only for him.

“I love you,” Hans had told her that night, with an intensity she had never forgotten.

“And I love you,” she had answered, tears in her eyes, knowing that those words would change nothing.

That love—so real, so deep—had not vanished. Not for her.

And yet, there he was, laughing and conversing with a woman who looked like she had stepped out of a fairytale.

The conversation from mere moments ago echoed cruelly in her mind.

Clarisse.

Her elegance was undeniable, her intelligence evident. And worst of all, there had not been a hint of malice in her. Elsa couldn’t detest her. She couldn’t even console herself with the thought of some obvious flaw. No. She was charming and beautiful, the kind of woman who won over an entire court only with her smile. And Hans had her by his side.

A shiver ran down Elsa’s spine.

She had no right to feel betrayed. After all, it was she who had let him go. She who, with the same cold rationality with which she ruled, had drawn an unbreakable line between them.

And yet, here she was, tormented by the undeniable truth—Hans had not waited for her. While she had buried her feelings under the weight of duty, he had moved on.

But it wasn’t just that.

It wasn’t just him.

There was something else. Something pressing down on her, wrapping around her like an icy mist.

The voice.

A persistent whisper, an insidious plea that did not belong to this world—yet now, it followed her with an alarming determination.

Elsa stopped for a moment and shut her eyes tightly, as if that alone could silence the thing that haunted her.

Elsa didn’t want to reply, it wasn’t the time.

But the voice insisted, like a melody buried deep within her mind.

“No…” she whispered, barely audible.

And then, without realizing it, she collided head-on with someone.

“Oh! I’m sorry…” she murmured, startled, barely regaining her balance.

“Elsa!” Kristoff’s familiar, jovial voice rang out, his face bright with laughter. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you enjoying the party?”

She took a deep breath, struggling to maintain a calm façade, but the emotions welling in her chest weighed on her like a stone.

She smiled, but it was empty—a poor attempt to mask what she truly felt.

“I just… needed some air,” she replied, her voice softer than she wanted it to be. “It’s a bit overwhelming, you know?”

“Ugh, I know,” he replied somewhat gruffly, his voice slightly muffled by what sounded like chocolate in his mouth. “At least Anna seems to be in her element—she’s enjoying this more than anyone.”

For a moment, Elsa just stared at him, bewildered by the stark contrast between her own anguish and her brother-in-law’s carefree demeanor. The warmth in his face, the ease with which he smiled… it was as if he lived in a completely different world from hers.

“And where are you off to?” Elsa asked, searching for any excuse to avoid being trapped in her thoughts.

“I’m heading back to the ballroom. Anna wanted to keep dancing, but her feet are killing her, so I went to grab her slippers.”

There was something so genuine, so simple about the way he said it that, for an instant, Elsa felt the urge to smile. But the weight in her chest was too heavy.

“That’s nice, Kristoff. If you’ll excuse me, I’m not feeling well,” she said, her voice quieter than she intended. “I’m going to lie down for a bit.”

She saw how Kristoff’s expression shifted instantly, concern evident on his face. He stepped closer, as if wanting to offer some kind of support, and without hesitation, he asked:

“Are you okay, Elsa? If you need to rest, I can go with you. Or… would you like me to call Anna?”

Elsa felt her chest tighten even more at his concern. She didn’t want Anna to know what was really going on. She didn’t want to worry anyone.

“No, please… don’t tell Anna,” she answered quickly. “I just need to rest for a bit in my room. I’ll be back at the party in a few minutes, I promise.”

Kristoff looked at her with a mix of doubt and kindness, not entirely convinced it was the best idea, but he nodded.

“Well… if you’re sure. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

With a sigh, Elsa met his gaze, trying to offer him a more convincing smile.

“Thank you, Kristoff. Really.”

She turned and began walking toward the rooms, the weight of her thoughts still pressing on her heart. When she crossed into a random room, she shut the door softly behind her and leaned against it. Closing her eyes, she tried to steady her breathing—but the voice that had been whispering in her mind for days only grew louder.

The call surrounded her, a soft melody that seemed to rise from the unknown. Like a siren’s song.

She pressed her hands to her ears, trying to block it out.

Not now. Not now.

She couldn’t face that voice while everything she felt for Hans was already pulling her into the abyss.

No! Not now! she kept repeating to herself, though the pain of her anguish stabbed at her from the inside.

But the voice persisted. Stronger. More insistent. Twisting through her mind like a whisper she couldn’t ignore.

And then, as if the universe had decided to grant her a brief reprieve, the door creaked open.

Elsa, still with her eyes shut, didn’t notice until she saw a shadow cast in the doorway.

It was Hans.

“Elsa,” he said in a low, gentle tone, as if afraid to startle her.

She straightened up suddenly, her face flushed with rage and humiliation. “What are you doing here?” she demanded, though her voice cracked, stealing all the force she had tried to put into it.

“I saw you leave, suddenly,” he replied, closing the door behind him. “You seemed… disturbed.”

“Disturbed?” Elsa repeated with a bitter laugh as tears gathered in her eyes. “You dare say I seem disturbed? And how did you expect me to be, Hans, after… after… all this?” Her hands gestured awkwardly, as if words weren’t enough to express the chaos inside her.

Hans raised both hands in a calming gesture. “I don’t understand. Please, calm down.”

“No, I can’t calm down!” she exclaimed, tears falling again as her voice rose in a tone that oscillated between fury and pain. “You! How… how could you��!” Though she tried, the words came out broken and choked by sobs.

Hans looked at her with a mixture of concern and frustration. “Elsa, what are you saying?”

“You… she… and you… with her… and me here…!” Elsa babbled between sobs, waving her hands frantically as if that would help her words make any sense.

Hans raised an eyebrow, completely confused. “Excuse me? Is that supposed to be a sentence?”

“Don’t mock me!” Elsa yelled, though the dramatic effect was ruined by another bout of crying that barely allowed her to breathe.

Hans sighed, running a hand over the bridge of his nose. “Elsa, please, breathe. Take a moment and… I don’t know, try to say something coherent. Because right now, you sound like Olaf trying to explain a philosophical concept.”

“Don’t compare my… pain to Olaf!” she sobbed, now indignant, though she didn’t stop crying. “How dare you show up here, after everything, with another woman! Don’t you remember what we lived? Everything we shared? How dare you laugh and talk with her in front of me as if nothing ever happened!”

Hans furrowed his brow, visibly annoyed.

“A woman? How dare I? How dare you say this to me?” he retorted, his tone rising. “I was the one who risked everything to stay with you! I was the one who was willing to kneel before a kingdom that despised me to be by your side! And what did you do? And now you’re upset that I’m here, with someone else?”

“I…” she muttered, unable to articulate a coherent response.

“You were the one who decided it couldn’t be” Hans said, his voice lower but full of harshness. “. You forced me to leave.”

Hans’s words pierced her like knives. She felt the truth of his reproach, and her mind filled with shadows of regret.

“Because there was no other option!” Elsa replied, raising her voice, though it no longer had the same strength as before.

Hans let out a dry, almost bitter laugh.

“Really?” he said, incredulously. “There was no other option? Or were you just afraid to imagine a future with me?”

Elsa looked at him, feeling a mix of discomfort and wounded pride. She didn’t want to admit what he was implying, but deep down, her own insecurity had driven her to reject him, to flee from what she felt.

“It’s not that simple, Hans,” she replied, trying to cling to her dignity.

“No, of course not!” he said, with a laugh that was almost manic. “It wasn’t simple when what we felt consumed us, it wasn’t simple when we gave ourselves to each other without thinking about anything else. But now, suddenly, it’s simple for you to demand things from me.”

Elsa took a step back, stunned by his words, but finally murmured, her voice broken: “I told you to go, but not because I didn’t love you, Hans. I did it because I thought it was the best… for all of us.”

Hans looked at her in disbelief, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “The best? For whom? Because for me, it was hell.”

“And you think it was easy for me?” Elsa exclaimed, her eyes shining with emotion. “I’ve spent every day regretting letting you go.”

Hans stared at her intently, as if trying to discern the truth behind her words. He took a step toward her, his voice lower, laden with conflicting emotions. “Then, what do you want, Elsa? What do you expect from me? Do you want me to be with no one? Do you want me to leave? Do you want me to stay? Tell me, what do you want me to do?”

Hans looked at her intensely, waiting—demanding—a response. But Elsa said nothing. Her lips parted, as if she were going to speak, but not a single word came out. Only silence. Only the unbearable weight of her indecision.

Hans closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, trying to contain the wave of frustration that was overwhelming him. When he opened them again, his expression had changed. It was no longer just anger, but exhaustion and pain.

“You see? You don’t even know,” his voice sounded lower, more bitter. “Or rather, I think you do know, but you don’t want to admit it. You push me away, but when I try to leave, you pull me back. You can’t keep doing this, Elsa. Not with me.”

She swallowed, feeling her chest tighten. Her heart pounded like it was trapped in a cage too small. She wanted to tell him to stay, she wanted to ask him to hold her, and somehow, for everything to be resolved. But the consequences of those words terrified her. It wasn’t just admitting what she felt, it was facing what would come after. Anna, her kingdom, the people who would never accept Hans.

“Hans, I…” her voice trembled, but he shook his head.

“No. I don’t want to hear another excuse. Just tell me the truth. Do you want me to stay? Or do you want me to leave? Because if you ask me to stay this time, I’m not leaving again.”

The firmness of his words left her breathless. There was no turning back. There would be no “maybe” after this. What she decided now would mark everything. She felt her eyes burn, because the answer was clear in her chest, but saying it out loud terrified her.

Hans saw her internal struggle reflected on her face and let out a dry, incredulous laugh.

“For God’s sake, Elsa…” he took a step back, running a hand through his hair, desperate. “Do you love me or not? Is it that hard to say? Why are you doing all this jealousy theater if it’s not for that?”

“And what does it matter now, Hans, if you’re with someone else?”

Hans blinked, confused. Then let out an incredulous laugh at the situation.

“Is this about the viscountess?”

“I saw you when you were with her,” Elsa insisted, the annoyance tinting her voice. “How do you expect me to tell you how I feel if you came here with someone else?”

Hans shook his head, rubbing his face as if he were dealing with something absurd.

“Is that what you think? That I’m with Clarisse?”

Elsa didn’t answer, but her wounded look gave him the answer. Hans sighed, shaking his head.

“My God, you misunderstood everything. Clarisse isn’t my partner, Elsa. We’re not even remotely close to that.”

She frowned, unsure whether to believe him or not.

“Then why did she come with you?”

He took a deep breath, trying to contain his exasperation, and then said more calmly:

“She was sent by my brother. He thought she could help me improve my image after… well, after everything that happened here. She’s respected, beloved at court, and her presence lends me credibility. That’s all.”

“And…” Hans continued, taking another step closer. “She’s married. She has a wife and two daughters.”

Elsa felt the heat rise to her face.

“Really?”

“Yes. Clarisse has no interest in me, and I have no interest in her. So tell me, what other excuse are you going to cling to now?”

The silence between them became unbearable. Elsa felt the shame tighten her chest, but also the fear. Because now, she had nowhere to hide.

Hans looked at her intensely, his eyes locked on hers.

“I’m asking you one last time, Elsa. Do you love me or not?”

Elsa clenched her fists. Her fear was suffocating, but she couldn’t keep hiding behind it. Her eyes found Hans’s, and with a broken voice, she let out the words she had been holding in for so long.

“Hans, I love you.”

He seemed to be at a loss for words for a moment. Elsa felt the warmth in her chest, the relief and the fear intertwining. But before she could continue, he spoke again.

“But it’s complicated, right?” His tone was bitter, as if the words burned his tongue.

She lowered her head, biting her lip.

“It is,” she admitted.

Hans turned around and let out a long, tired sigh. Then, after a moment, he approached, not with anger this time, but with something deeper.

“You know what? I don’t care,” he whispered.

Elsa looked up, surprised.

“I don’t care how complicated it is. I don’t care what your sister thinks, or my family, or the kingdom, or anyone else. I only care about what you want. I don’t want you to lose everything you love, but I’ll try even harder to show everyone I’m worthy of your love. But… I can’t do it alone, Elsa. I’m tired of being a secret, of being something you feel the need to hide. If you really want this… then show it.”

Her heart stopped for a second, and in that instant, she knew. She had made her decision. No matter what came after, no matter the fear.

She took a step toward him, feeling for the first time in a long while that she could breathe.

“I don’t want you to feel that way, Hans. I’ll tell Anna. I’ll tell everyone.”

Hans looked at her, and for the first time throughout the conversation, he smiled genuinely.

The redhead cupped Elsa’s face in his hands, as if afraid she might disappear at any moment. Their gazes intertwined, a silent dance of contained emotions, unsaid words, and a love that had never disappeared. Elsa, with her heart beating wildly, couldn’t look away from his eyes.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice husky, almost a whisper, but with a determination that resonated through the walls of the small room.

Elsa trembled, not from fear, but from the intensity of her feelings. For months, she had suppressed the yearning, the desire, the love she felt for him, but now, in front of him, everything came crashing down. “I want to be with you, Hans. I’ve always wanted to,” she replied, her voice broken but filled with sincerity.

Then he didn’t need to hear anything else.

With a determined move, he closed the distance between them and captured her lips with his. There was no hesitation, no timid touch. It was a kiss born from the accumulated hunger, the rage for the lost time, and the relief of knowing there was nothing left to hide.

Elsa clung to his coat with force, pulling him closer, feeling the solidity of his body against hers. Hans slid one hand to her waist, the other tangling in her hair, tilting his face to deepen the kiss, to drink in every trembling sigh that escaped her.

The air grew thick, charged with something electric, almost dangerous. Elsa felt the heat rush through her skin, a fiery shiver running down her back when Hans pulled her tighter, his lips demanding, exploring, devouring as if they couldn’t be satisfied with each other.

She responded with the same desperation, the same contained fury. Her hands roamed the thick fabric of his jacket before slipping to his neck, her control over her powers beginning to slip away involuntarily, and a strange, cold yet pleasurable sensation seeped under Hans’s skin. Something only she could provoke, drawing moans from his throat.

When they finally separated, breaths ragged and lips reddened, Hans pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes half-closed, his voice rough from the unsatisfied desire.

“Say it again,” he murmured, with a crooked, dangerous smile.

“I want to be with you, Hans.”

Elsa barely managed to smile before she pulled him into another kiss.

Everything reminded her of the first night they had been together. Hans groaned against her lips as Elsa kissed him again, with the same hunger, the same desperation burning in her chest. Her hands traced his back, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her dress until her legs wrapped around his torso, pulling her closer to him.

Hans held her tightly, and between increasingly passionate kisses, he leaned toward a nearby table, gently positioning her on its surface. Elsa felt the heat rise from her feet to her face, but she didn’t pull away. Her breath became erratic as Hans’s hands, firm and sure, slid to find the clasp of her dress.

She no longer thought, no longer analyzed, she only felt. She felt the frantic beat of her heart, the warmth of his lips exploring hers with more intensity, the way every touch made her lose herself more in him. Her heart left her no other choice: she wanted him, needed him, had longed for him too much.

Hans slid his mouth down to her neck, taking a deep breath before pressing a kiss against her skin. Elsa shuddered, a sigh escaping her lips as she felt the warm moisture of his mouth, the brush of his breath burning against her exposed skin.

“Gods…” he murmured, his voice rough and filled with longing. “You have no idea how much I fantasized about this.”

Elsa clung to him, feeling how the tension of months of separation broke in that moment.

“I did too,” she whispered, letting her words sink into his thoughts. Hans closed his eyes for a moment. Then, without hesitation, he kissed her again, this time with more calm, more devotion, as if savoring each second, memorizing every detail.

Elsa knew then that there was no turning back. And for the first time… she didn’t want there to be.

•••

The dimness of the room was only interrupted by the flickering glow of the fireplace, whose dancing light cast long shadows across the walls.

Elsa lay on the living room rug, curled up against Hans, her breath synchronized with his, as if, at least for this fleeting moment, the world had ceased its relentless chaos. Her body, still warm from the passion that had consumed them, fit naturally into Hans’s embrace, in a way that almost frightened her.

He slept, exhausted, with an arm around her waist, a gesture that oscillated between possession and need. Elsa closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself be enveloped by the sense of security the contact brought. She allowed a sigh to escape her lips, not of regret, but something that dangerously resembled peace.

And then, she heard it.

The voice.

A shiver ran through her.

She stirred uneasily, without opening her eyes, trying to hold on to the warmth surrounding her. Hans, still half-asleep, tightened his grip on her and placed a sleepy kiss on her shoulder.

“Don’t think,” he murmured against her skin.

Elsa felt as if Hans could hear her thoughts. She unconsciously smiled, her body relaxing by instinct. She wanted to be there, in the safety of his embrace, in the warmth of the fireplace, in that moment when it was only the two of them, with no one else, no doubts, or voices calling her from a distance. But the voice returned, more insistent this time.

Her eyes snapped open.

Hans was still asleep beside her, unaware of the unease now twisting in her chest. Slowly, Elsa sat up, carefully freeing herself from Hans’s embrace. She slipped out of the warmth of his body and, in the dim light, searched for the time.

The party was already ended long ago. They were probably looking for her.

With hurried movements, she began to dress, adjusting the ties on her dress with trembling fingers. It wasn’t just the worry of having disappeared without explanation, but the persistent echo of that voice, calling her from some distant place.

When she was ready to leave, Hans noticed the cold that now occupied the space under his arm where she used to be. He groaned softly and frowned.

“Elsa? What are you doing?”

His voice, still drowsy, carried a hint of fatigue… but also something else. Something that stopped her dead in her tracks.

“Where are you going?”

Hans, still lying down, was watching her with a slightly furrowed brow, his voice tinged with concern.

Elsa hesitated for a moment.

“I have to go,” she finally said. “The party is over, they must be worried about me.”

A heavy silence followed.

Then, Hans sighed, and when he spoke again, his voice was no longer sleepy, but alert.

“Is that all?”

Elsa pressed her lips together.

Hans sat up, resting an arm on a small tea table as he studied her with an intensity that made her feel trapped.

“Because that didn’t seem important a few hours ago.”

Elsa closed her eyes for a moment, anticipating what he would say.

“The last time we did this, you disappeared without saying a word.”

She didn’t want to talk about that. Not now.

Hans let out a brief, humorless laugh, running his hand through his messy hair.

“And the next day, we signed a stupid document and you sent me back to the Southern Isles. End of story.”

“Hans…”

“No,” he interrupted her, his laugh brief and without humor. “Don’t do this to me again. Please”

His tone made her turn. Hans was looking at her with a furrowed brow, his jaw tense, his eyes reflecting something deeper than just anger: exhaustion.

“You said these games were over. You said you weren’t going to hide me anymore. That we were going to be together.”

Elsa felt his gaze on her, but she could barely focus on his words.

That siren.

At first, it was just a murmur, an almost imperceptible echo between the beats of her own heart. But it was there.

—And we will be —she answered, taking longer than she should have.

Hans raised an eyebrow.

—Oh, really? Then why does this feel just like last time? You say things, we make love, and then you leave. And when you come back, you act as if nothing ever happened. As if I don’t exist.

Elsa opened her mouth to respond, but the sound interrupted her again.

It was more insistent now, an invisible current pulling her toward the unknown. Her stomach tightened.

Hans frowned.

—Are you going to say something, or are you just going to stand there, staring at me like you’re in another world?

Elsa swallowed.

—This time it won’t be like that.

But she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even know what she was feeling.

Hans clenched his jaw and looked away.

“I don’t know if I can believe you, Elsa.”

His words were soft, but they stung like a knife.

“Hans…”

“I don’t want to wake up tomorrow and find out you’ve regretted it again.”

The harshness of his words hit her harder than she wanted to admit. She bit her lip, feeling her chest tighten with an anxiety she didn’t know how to handle.

Hans sighed again and shook his head. He stood up in frustration and began to button his shirt.

“Do you know what the worst part is?” he said with a bitter laugh. “I don’t know if I’d rather it be that… or that what we have is just a game to you.”

“It’s not. How can you say that?”

Hans shrugged, although his expression betrayed him.

“I don’t know, maybe because I notice you… distant. Even now.”

Elsa felt a lump in her throat.

“I’m not…”

“You’re not?” he interrupted her. “Because it seems like you’re not even here.”

She looked away, hearing the siren in the distance.

“It’s more complicated than that.”

Hans ran his tongue over his teeth, frustrated.

“Then tell me, Elsa. Make me understand.”

Elsa wanted to answer, she really did. But how could she explain something she didn’t even understand herself? How could she tell him there was something inside her that was calling her? That scared her. That made her feel so small and lost that, for the first time in a long time, she didn’t know what to do.

And that he, without meaning to, had become another piece of that chaos.

“I can’t.”

Hans clenched his jaw, looking away.

“Of course.”

Elsa felt the weight of his disappointment like a stone in her chest.

She approached him and, gently, took his face in her hands. Hans didn’t pull away, but he didn’t look at her either.

“It’s not what you think,” she whispered.

Hans let out a brief laugh.

“It never is.”

Elsa sighed and kissed him.

At first, Hans didn’t respond. Then, little by little, his body relaxed and his lips moved against hers with an unexpected sweetness. A kiss without haste. A kiss that only longed for him to trust in her love.

When they separated, Hans looked at her in silence, with an expression she couldn’t decipher.

“Will you talk to your sister?”

“I will,” she answered after a moment. “I just… need to think about what I’m going to say.”

Hans raised an eyebrow.

“Do you need help?”

“No, it’s better if I do it alone.”

“I must accompany Clarisse to the port tomorrow at noon. We have a ship that will take us back to the Southern Isles, you have until then, Elsa.”

“I will.”

Hans nodded slowly, though he studied her carefully, as if sensing that something else was troubling her. And it was. The voice echoed again in her head, louder this time. Elsa felt a chill run down her spine.

Hans noticed her tense expression.

“What’s wrong?”

She opened her mouth but didn’t know how to respond. Should she tell him that a voice was calling her from the unknown? That something greater than herself seemed to be waiting for her somewhere? No. No one would understand. Least of all him. He’d think it was just an excuse, a way to avoid facing the truth with Anna.

So she simply shook her head. And planted a fleeting kiss on his cheek.

“Nothing. Get dressed, we’ll talk tomorrow morning. I promise.”

She left the room before he could insist.

Hello!

I hope you liked this new story! It’s basically a prequel to Echoes of a Forgotten Past. It shows how Hans came back to Arendelle, and how the idea of him joining Elsa and Anna on their journey to the Enchanted Forest came about.

There’s still another part to come, so I hope you enjoy this one! Let me know what you think. This is my first time writing something this detailed—well, passionate might be the better word. I hope the story’s idea came across clearly! Since English isn’t my first language, I had to translate everything, but I really hope you like it!

I know I had mentioned thinking about leaving the community, but honestly, I really enjoy writing these stories. It’s something that actually helps me relax, so I’ve decided to keep sharing them here. I truly appreciate your comments, and I love reading your thoughts on my stories—no matter how short they are, they always make me happy!

I’m not sure if I’ll have time to post on other platforms, but I give you all permission to copy and share my posts elsewhere if you’d like!

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