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#friends were going to die young here and i was going to keep living a whole lifetime. and i didnt like either of those points. not at all
emma-d-klutz · 3 months
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When you have a story idea that you really like but its premise has a problematic point that has, like, implications that are cruel and unfair to its target audience, and like this could easily be fixed by just changing one detail about the main character that wouldn't even affect the plot much like it could be done so easily BUT that one detail is really important to you because the MC is based entirely on personal experience and the horror iw based around some of your own childhood fears pertaining to the setting, so taking away this element of the character would make you not love the idea anymore and not want to write it BUT how fucking arrogant can you be to think it's more important that you get to creatively express yourself than it is to not hurt a child who reads it what kind of argument is that? if you don't want to write it without the implications then how about you just don't write it not like you finish anything anyways EXCEPT -hurt who???- motherfucker no one is going to read this no one is ever going to read this you think this is going to demoralize some hospitalized kid with cancer how would it it's not like it's going to be published no one reads your original work and no one cares but you so you might as well write it the way it means most to you AND LASTLY well if no one is ever going to read it why would I bother writing it
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thenightwolf51 · 9 months
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"Danny was born a Wayne" AU except he's Bruce's grand uncle. The result of a one time drunken affair, shortly before Kenneth Wayne's death, to a young unmarried woman who gave the baby up for adoption.
(Whether the Fenton's, and therefore Amity, were just ahead of their times or the DC timeline is shifted a bit so that DP happens in its cannon era is up to you. Dealers choice, though now that i know about her i just love badass widowed prohibition leader Laura Elizabeth Wayne)
Danny grows up knowing hes adopted and loved by the Fentons but something (dealer's choice) happens and he loses his family and friends (maybe the whole town goes too?). In an attempt to avoid a Dan situation he flees into the Infinite Realm and doesn't stop.
He just wanders, time passes in its weird Realms way, not that Danny truly notices. A protector spirit thats lossed everything it protected. Its a wonder he doesn't fade and he actually might've if it wasn't for his human side.
But its a tug at his core that brings him from his near catatonic wandering. Gone before he can even understand it but enough to shake him back to himself. Enough to know that hes nowhere near ready to go anywhere familiar so he continues on, his wandering no less pointless but at least he's aware again.
What feels like a relatively short time later he gets another tug, and this time he manages to follow it.
He follows it invisibly through a natural portal that drops him somewhere in New Jersey and all the way to a fancy hospital room in the gloomiest city he's ever seen.
In there he sees his half brother Patrick Wayne, though he wont figure out their connection for a few more years, holding little Agatha. She's adorable in her little dress and pigtails and her sweet face causes that familiar tug he recognizes from what must have been six years ago given the girls age.
Then a nurse comes in and hands a little bundle to what must be the mother (whos name i cant find) and Danny takes one look at the little core tugger who brought him here and just melts. Even without knowing yet that this is his last remaining family, his instincts latch on and he vows to protect and care for the Waynes.
And he does.
He finds his forgetful brother's documents and keeps Aggy company when everyone else is busy and soothes baby Thomas so his poor sister-in-law can get some more sleep. He ices fevers and bruised knees and helps on later games of hide and seek.
He very rarely becomes visible and only to the children. His grief over the Fenton's convinces him its better to protect his new family from the shadows.
Danny explores every inch of the manor, including secret passages and an underground cave system. He claims a forgotten room in the back of the attic as his own, which over the years fill up with knickknacks, heirlooms, and pictures of the family. Even a gift or two from Agatha, who hadn't stopped believing in their shadowy guardian like her brother did when Danny felt they were too old to see him without drawing suspicion.
The manor becomes his haunt and he always knows where each family member is within it. And when any guests have some no good intentions.
And when baby Bruce is born tugging at his core and with the bluest little eyes, he welcomes the fussy little thing. And makes sure dear Martha never knows just how fussy baby Bruce really is, otherwise she might've never had a full nights sleep.
Danny blames himself for not being there when Thomas and Martha die, and promises to never leave Bruces side, practically becoming the boy's living shadow. Watching over him as he gets older, secretly aiding him in his training. Danny feels a bit of pride when Bruce takes some inspiration from the old stories Thomas told him of the shadowy Wayne family protector when creating his Batman identity, glad his nephew still remembers him even if he hasn't shown himself since the now young man was six.
Danny continues to protect and care for the family in a variety of ways over the years even as the family grows.
Lightening Alfred's workload, softening Dick's falls, calming Jason's temper both pre and post pit, hiding Tim's coffee when the boy hasn't slept in far too long, providing plenty of shadows and hiding nooks for Cass, helping Damian hide the litter of kittens he found.
And no one seems to know he's there, except maybe Cass and he's pretty sure Alfred has been know since he first started working for the family. No one knows, that is, until Duke Thomas moves in and lookes right at him watching invisibly from the sidelines.
(@omnicrafts @dcxdpdabbles @hdgnj @ailithnight @nelkcats @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 i dont know, the main point of all this is that Danny's been protecting the Wayne family for decades and no one, except maybe Alfred, knew until Duke moved in)
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neil-gaiman · 3 months
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Hi Mr Gaiman, I hope your day is going well.
I can't say I'm looking for anything other than the comfort of talking to someone I don't know, and I apologize that for some unknown reason you are the only 'wiser older being' I can think of other than God. I'm 16, and because of forces outside of my control, I don't know if i can continue living normally. My family is loving, I am safe in my home, I currently have it better than most of the people in my country, I am not suicidal, but I'm terribly scared. Every time I watch the news or see my parents/teachers talk to each other, I feel this unexplained sensation that my life is getting shorter and shorter.
Mr. gaiman, I feel like I'll never get to finish high school. I'll never get to visit my grandparents' old house since the town evacuated. My aunt and her family are still up in the north, they send us videos every time they see rockets in the sky, and I debate sending 'goodbye' and 'I love you' one more time just incase. I'm terrified for them, for the people under the rubbles of their homes, for the people in foreign places that still don't know if they'll live, for the kids with no parents, for parents with no kids. I remember being nervous to talk to my friends about what we'll do when we go to the army in a few years, but as long as we keep in touch we're sure we'll be alright. I remember what I wanted to be when I'll grow up, I wanted to move, get an apartment in Porto Fino or go to meet my uncles in Viana, and translate books.
I remember it was the last few days of holiday vacation before it started, I remember it was still warm outside, and I still possessed the privilege to live.
Mr. gaiman, these days I'm learning that while I get to be luckier than most by simply being alive, I will always feel just one alarm sound away from sharing the same fate of my great-grandparents. From a young age I've seen black and white pictures of them, and so many others, and was told: 'they were here, they were alive, and you get to live the dream they died for'. I don't want to die on unfulfilled dreams.
I apologize for making you deal with this, but I want to be remembered by someone from outside who will get to live longer than me, or so I hope.
I'm 16 and a half. My brother just turned 11. I'm about to fail the test I have tomorrow. My tattoo just fully healed - the flowers symbolize undying love. I learned English on my own. I collect records with my dad. I study American history. I love your books. I bake when I feel down. I am alive. I if I die I hope it will be in a bomb shelter.
All I can wish you now is luck, good fortune, and the hope that you and your loved ones survive and that the world heals. I hope your generation helps heal the mess that previous generations have left you in.
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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months
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Widower Astarion Headcanons
Ok, we wanted pain - I bring you pain. @astarionsbeloved @wickedwitchofthewilds @sleepykitty21 @starlight-ipomoea
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion isn't an idiot; he knows you are mortal, a topic you've discussed before.
Jokingly, he suggested you find a vampire lord, but even if one were found, Astarion would never allow you to turn into a vampire.
"It hurts, it's painful. The existence of a vampire is miserable. I will never do this to you."
The price of mortality is death.
You made him promise not to step into the sunlight and to keep living, carrying memories of you into the future.
You die as you always wanted: in a glorious battle, or safe and comfy in your bed, or brought home by Astarion to a place you grew up in.
You die with no regrets, sorrows, or complaints.
Astarion is numb; all the feelings he learned how to express are gone with your last breath.
He dissociates; it's not him, not now, not real—he is somewhere else.
He hides in the shadows, safe in the darkness and lonely.
Unfortunately, Astarion has never learned how to be alone; you never left him on his own for a long time.
He realizes he can't meditate; there is a mental block preventing him from doing so in your absence.
It's even worse since he can't give himself a break.
Eventually, some friends of yours give him a Potion of Angelic Slumber. He sleeps for a few days in a row, without dreams and nightmares.
When he wakes up, the first thing he does is look for you, and then he realizes you're gone.
In this moment, Astarion breaks down, crying and cursing in Elven and Common.
His back hurts as if there are flesh wounds; the cold grip of darkness holds his undead heart. The tears burn the crimson eyes.
He mourns, grieves, wishes to be dead, but the given promise and the innate desire to survive prevent him from going into the sun.
For the first few years, he lives as a hermit in your shared house, starving himself by not hunting and spending months on your side of the bed without moving at all.
It's not life; it's an existence, miserable and hopeless when he imagines you alive.
A wake-up call is sudden but almost divine.
Deep in his thoughts, he finds himself in his own grave in Baldur's Gate, seeing you six feet above him as young as you were back during the tadpole adventure.
"I didn't get you out of this grave to let you bury yourself. Come on, you promised to me to live! Then, live! This is my last gift."
He wakes up, starving and cold, goes up and leaves for hunting. He hunts for a few days, satiating himself with animal and sentient beings' blood.
As his mind returns to him, Astarion washes and repairs his clothes, brushes his hair, makes himself look decent.
He ravages through your things, collecting them carefully in one place. You wouldn't want a shrine, so he sells the things he won't be able to use anymore.
He puts on your wedding ring (now he has two identical rings) and also a necklace you always liked.
He re-sews one of your gowns into a shirt; now, it feels like you are still with him.
Astarion leaves his first forever home and starts his own journey, taking the role of a sole adventurer - a monster hunter, a protector of the weak. He has always had this heroic side in him, just never admitted.
The most difficult thing is to stay alone; people praise him for saving someone from a monster, but they fear mingling with a vampire.
Sometimes, Astarion cries in his tent, cursing the evil gods for taking the only good thing he ever had.
He constantly talks to himself, imagining you standing beside him.
He actually enjoys these one-sided monologues because he can pretend you are still here.
Years pass, memories of the happy life fade. Astarion joins groups of adventurers here and there but always feels off.
Eventually, he finds the strength to live up to his promise, to enjoy what he has.
He explores places he has never been to, does things he has never done, and hears stories he has never heard.
He makes friends, mostly among long-living creatures. "Oh, my young vampire friend! It's been a while!" A wizard elf greets him with open arms. "I am 400 years older than you, idiot," Astarion chuckles and returns a hug.
Most importantly, he preserves the memory about you, paying bards and storytellers, talking about you at campfires, and putting you as an example of kindness and bravery.
Once, Astarion hears a song, "The One Who Saved Baldur's Gate." The motive and words are nice, but the more he listens to it, the more in shock he is.
This song known to every decent bard in Swords Coast is about you, a distant memory, a long-forgotten story.
He has fulfilled your promise, made sure you live in people's hearts. This day is bittersweet; he cries his eyes out, listening to that song over and over again.
But he feels happy, the first time in years.
With decades to pass, Astarion creates the Blood Guild - a union of vampires and dhampirs who prefer to hunt monsters rather than be ones. They also keep an eye on other vampires who are a danger to mortals, especially those who make spawns and thralls out of innocent victims.
Having immortal undead friends feels nice; having friends who understand his issues, too.
He finds himself in the position of a mentor; vampires come to him for advice and emotional support.
Then he meets a person, a runaway spawn, angry with what happened to them, determined to do whatever it takes to break their chains. Astarion agrees to help; they constantly bicker about every single thing—views on life, personal experiences, shared interests.
This new person is annoying, obnoxious, brave, and lovable. Suddenly Astarion realizes he doesn't want to stay in his tent alone; he doesn't want to speak to himself anymore.
The long-forgotten feeling of loving someone aches in his undead heart, but now it's not his turn to confess.
"You know, I've been manipulating you into helping me. I am sorry. if you want, I will go away."
"You are a good person, Astarion. No one is like you. But you deserve honesty and something real."
Astarion smiles back and hugs this person.
This relationship is different; the runaway spawn is nothing like you, different in every way possible—personality, appearance, behavior, views on life, everything.
At first, there is profound guilt, as if he betrays your memory by having another romantic relationship.
They talk, sharing the darkest and saddest parts of their immortal lives—crimes they had to commit, lives they lost.
Eventually, Astarion tells them about you—how wonderful you were, how kind, how brave, how much you meant to him. His new love smiles and takes away a strand curl from his face.
"So, this is the person I must thank for you?".
He helps his new love to break the chains by killing the vampire lord.
Returning back, Astarion starts talking about the future.
Adventures? Of course! His partner is also a spawn, they need healing and freedom the same way he needed many years ago.
And then - who knows? Life is full of cruel wonders. Especially, for immortals.
--
Tag list
@tragedybunny @caitlincat-95 @tallymonster @astarionsbeloved @lumienyx @fayeriess @elora-the-slutty-songstress @veillsar @astarion-imagine-archive @micropoe10 @starlight-ipomoea @herstxrgirl @theearthsfinalconfession @ashrio20 @not-so-lost-after-all @vixstarria @wintersire @marcynomercy
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pathetichimbos · 8 months
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I wanna eat Thomas up like he my LAST MEAL 😫😫
Shawtyyy like I’m beating up his guts like I die TOMORROW!! 💖💖
Honestly if I saw him with my (dumbass) group of friends I would turn to them and be like “hol’ on i’ma try to wife up this super model ova here, go on without me cuz this town is my new home as long as he here.” While LOUDLY pointing to Thomas and trying to be suave AF but lookin dumb in the process. Lowkey though I feel like realistically he would think I’m making fun of him and kill me first 😭😭.
What’s your take on it?? How would our (hot-sexy-mouthwatering) Thomas Hewitt take a very bold flirtatious reader?? Thanks and bye!! ✌️💖💖
I am having thoughts and feelings about this thank you very much
So, we all know Thomas is a very shy and reserved man. He isn't bold or confident by any means. He does as he's told, and sticks to himself, pretty much never leaving his comfort zone.
But, Luda Mae's getting older, and despite her head-strong and strong-willed demeanor, Thomas worries about her.
So, he starts spending more time at the old country store, if for no reason other than to serve as a deterrent for the off-handed biker or degenerate looking for an excuse to try and rob a poor old station clerk.
It works, and Luda Mae enjoys spending more time with her son.
There's not much to do out at the shop, and so more often than not Thomas finds himself resting out in the old rocker to escape the hot smoky air wafting from the patron's and his mother's cigarettes.
It's a cool October afternoon, a nice breeze keeping the hot sun at bay as he gently pushes himself back and forth with his foot, eyes closed as he rests.
He hears you before he sees you, the loud, excited yells of a group of young women fading in from the distance as a jeep kicks up dirt, pulling up to one of the old, rusty pumps.
He squints his eyes open, watching as the four of you sing along to the radio, no one concerned with how off-key y'all may be.
He sighs, closing his eyes again, not moving from his seat in the old rocker as your group continues having the time of your lives.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," A clear voice suddenly emerges from the chaos, the music lowering to a quiet hum, "Who is that?"
He opens his eyes again, seeing that you have set your eyes on him from your place in the backseat, sunglasses lowered to take in a better look.
He frowns behind his mask, face scrunching in expectancy, waiting to hear the barrage of rude comments and hideous bullying.
The rest of your friends glance over his way as he shuffles in his seat, shoulders tensing as he looks away, uncomfortable with the attention.
"Goddamn." You start again, letting out a low whistle, "If this is what this town has to offer y'all can just leave me here."
A large eruption of playful teasing, groans, and eye rolls come from your friend group as you wiggle your eyebrows at him with a large, flirtatious grin.
He looks back, caught off guard by the terrible pick up line, frozen in place as you blow him a kiss.
"Are you for sale, pumpkin, 'cause I could just eat you up!"
"Oh, my god, leave the poor man alone." One of your friends tease you, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you further into the car.
He can't help but stare, left in shock by the sudden and unexpected flirting.
You couldn't be serious, right...?
There's no way you could actually be flirting with him right now... Right?
His thought process is broken as you ungracefully climb out of the truck, pulling yourself over the door and almost busting your face in the process.
Brown eyes stay glued to you as you walk over to him, hips swaying in what he was sure to be a much more suave and appealing way than the dorky saunter you were pulling now.
...This was definitely a joke.
"Hey." You barely stifle through your amused giggling to speak, "Do you have a name or can I just call you mine?"
"Y/N!" Your friends groan loudly from the car, watching you attempt to work your magic.
He looks you up and down, trying to figure out if this was some strange attempt to mock him or if you were actually coming onto him, the latter making his face flush pink at the idea.
"Thomas!" His mother steps out of the shop, poking her head out to look at the two of you, "Come help me put this stuff up."
He isn't sure if she really needs help or if it's a feeble attempt to get him out of the situation, and to be completely honest, he's not really sure he wants to leave.
But his mother says she needs help, so he stands from his chair, rising to his full height, something that would cause most people to take at least a small step back, but your smile only seems to grow as you stand in place, clearly checking him out as you look him up and down.
He starts to ignore you, heading back inside, only to hear the wooden floorboards creak behind him as he reaches the counter.
He looks back, a confused look on his face as he sees you following behind like a lost duckling.
"Don't mind me," You wink, "My mama just always told me to follow my dreams."
He huffs in amusement at that, shaking his head.
Maybe your pickup lines weren't all that bad.
...
As time goes on, and the more he gets to know you, the more he's going to find your flirtatious advances amusing and endearing, but if you don't make it very clear from the beginning that there's actual feelings behind your remarks, he's going to assume that they're just jokes and you're not actually into him.
He's a big romantic, he'll catch feelings rather easily the more you flirt and tease him, and if he isn't 100% sure that they're more than just jokes, he'll eventually grow to resent them because he feels like he's being teased, even if you have no idea he has feelings for you at all, so communication (while a big deal in every relationship) will be especially important if you're a flirtatious person.
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pamsimmer · 4 months
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LUNAR PHASES CHALLENGE
My very first challenge and I'm excited? haha
When I was looking for occults challenge to play I found a lot of witches and vampire type of things, but I don't quite remember seeing a werewolf one.
These three occults are my favorites (unfortunately I kind of ignore the others because you know... meh, not as fun to play with them. But maybe one day I'll try to make a mermaid challenge)
Down here you're gonna find the rules and guidelines for each gen. You don't have to follow strictly the rules if you don't want to, I know it can be annoying sometimes. And also I made it short for those who prefer shorter challenges (like me).
I just hope you have fun!
[edit: a friend made the graphic rules and it looks amazing. if you prefer it like this: HERE]
Rules:
You must reside only in the occults’s worlds, but preferably in Moonwood Mill (You can always kick your family out and pretend you’re living in another place hehe)
Start as YA, any gender
You can use cheats if you want.
Heir must be a werewolf
Normal or Long Lifespan
You don’t have to max all these skills, but it would be nice if you at least worked on them all your sims lives
When I put ( / ) is because you can choose what you prefer or if you don’t have said pack you can choose the base game one.
Requirements: Werewolves, Snowy Scape, Get Together, Get To Work
GENERATION 1: Waxing Crescent
You grew up close to the Moonwood Collective, they are basically your family and you learned how to be a good sim and not hurt others. You prefer to lock yourself up than to behave like an animal in front of others. You always loved art/writing and your hobby is to play piano. You don’t like the spotlight because of your werewolf tendencies, so you chose a more “reclusive” career.
Traits: Proper/Snob, Bookworm, Good
Aspiration: The Emissary of the Collective
Skills: Charisma, Piano/Painting, Writing
Career: Painter or Writer (It can be the freelance career if you prefer)
Volunteer with family (or alone) at least once a week
Your partner can be any gender, can be human or even another type of occult, as long as the heir is a werewof.
Get married to your partner and never divorce. You two were made for each other
GENERATION 2: Waning Gibbous
Your parents wanted you to be as perfect as they are, but you’re not them. You have your own personality and your own desires. You’re a rebel. You love being a werewolf and you feel powerful when you show others who you are. The only thing you got from your parent was the love for music, but you are more of a guitar type of sim. And you want to be the leader of your own pack.
Traits: Mean, Active, Kleptomaniac
Aspiration: Wildfang Renegade
Skills: Mischief, Fitness, Guitar
Career: Criminal or perform only odd jobs and have a part time job
Meet your friends at the bar every weekend
Have a “fight club” club
Get pregnant/get your girlfriend pregnant as a teen (if your sim is a boy: don’t assume the responsability / if your sim is a girl: give the baby to someone else. you can keep the child close to you if you want to play with them later, in case it’s a werewolf)
Get married as a Young Adult and divorce before become an Adult. You can find love again, but if you don’t, that’s okay. (preferably die alone :)
One day your sims is gonna teach their teen kid (the heir) how to fight. You’re take them to Greg and let them fight Greg… alone.
GENERATION 3: Full Moon
You never got along with your parent. You actually hate them. You prefer to be alone, you’re like a hurt puppy that attacks others who tries to come closer to you. But you’re very sweet on the inside. And finally one day you find the love of your life and you have a beautiful family together.
Traits: Loner, Gloomy, Hot-Headed
Aspiration: Lone Wolf
Skills: Gardening, Handiness, Fishing
Career: Gardner or Fisherman (and perform odd jobs)
If you chose gardner: go fishing every weekend, if you chose fisherman: have a garden
Live off the grid, at least until you get married (after that you can go back to society again if you want to. But it’s not mandatory)
Have at least two kids
GENERATION 4: New Moon
You grew up in a loving family. You have so many plans for your life, but you don’t want to be a werewolf forever. You spent your teenager years reading werewolf books and you got the Lunar Epiphany and learned how to make the cure. Maybe you’re the one who breaks the family’s curse, right? and you want to be a super parent because your own parent inspired you.
Traits: Genius, Family-Oriented, Loyal
Aspiration: Cure Seeker
Skills: Logic, Parenting, Baking/Gourmet Cooking
Career: Doctor/Astrounaut
Find love when you are already a human and be the best parent you can be!
Go out on dates at least once a week with your partner, and when you have a child go out at least once a week with your family.
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atxxzist · 9 months
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the crown prince | c.s
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summary: with the fall of the king, the kingdom of utopia rest on prince san's hand. but when bounties are put on his head as the consequence of his ancestors' actions, he realize there's a backlog of history to undo and a lot more to prove that he's deserving of being the rightful ruler
pairing: choi san x f!reader
genre: prince!san, commoner!y/n, medieval au, angst, fluff, suggestive
word count: 19k
(ao3) if you don't like lapslock
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age 8:
you live in the fifth district, the poorest and most rundown of all districts, sitting at the bottom of the kingdom with a large body of water surrounding it.
the only remarkable thing about the place is the port that's often used for traveling in and out of the kingdom. other than that, rarely anyone from other districts would come down unless they want to be at risk of a flood--which always striked the district the hardest out of any others.
but even then, despite the limited portions of food your family has to survive on each day, or the hardrock wood mattress you guys have to sleep on that frequently gives your aging father back pain, life doesn't seem all that bad.
you still have your family and a roof over your head, and a mind too young and optimistic.
age 10:
just two years after, you soon find out how hard it really is for a kid living in the fifth district, and especially one without parents or someone to love and care for them.
the fishermen had said your parents fell overboard and their bodies couldn't be recovered.
you couldn't believe it at first that no one looked even the least concerned or urgent to search for your parents, but you soon learn that their lives are meaningless, and the people that threw you out after their death made sure you knew so is yours.
"ay, kid, we could leave you out here to die if we really want to," one of the tall, scary looking man says after your episode of protesting and crying starts to annoy him.
and easily like that, they both leave you in the orphanage that's already overcrowded with other children of similar circumstances.
you lose everything in one day; the house your father built from scratch, along with anything that's ever been handmade by your mother, it's all gone. they're both gone, and you feel yourself withering away with all the loss.
before the age of eleven, you become nothing more than a ward of the district and the responsibility to a bunch of strangers who probably doesn't care whether you live or die.
age 11:
it only takes a year for you to become almost nothing like the person you were once before who was cheerful and optimistic.
all of it beat out of you, watching every day as some of the children gets yelled at or punished for doing something so trivial, it desensitized you to the point you're no longer surprise to hear someone get told no one else would want them outside of the orphanage.
you don't talk to anyone or attempt to make any friends. you keep to yourself and would often read any books you could find or hunt for any sewing materials during the few time of the day they let you guys out.
age 12:
during dinner, you hear the group of kids sitting at the nearby table talk about the upcoming coronation of the prince.
"it's not even like we're gonna get to see it," one of the girls squeak, seemingly uninterested in the topic as she pokes her food because it's true.
events like that, especially any celebrations or gatherings are only reserved for those in the second and first districts, who are usually of noble and royal status. not nobodies like you guys down here living off of scraps and remnants.
"i want to see how the prince looks like," another boy adds with a mischievous tone.
you, too, want to see what the prince looks like, but you most likely never will. he won't come here and the chances of you going up there is damn near impossible, it might as well be good as a dream.
but all of the children agrees that he's the luckiest kid in the kingdom, and for that, they hate him for it.
age 13:
through the years, you've been watching as kids go and new ones would come in.
those that left were lucky to have gotten moved or adopted into a household that were willing to take them in, and you, like all the other kids in here, tired of the overcrowding and deteriorating state of the orphanage, hope that a kind family will one day swoop you away.
but it doesn't happen at age thirteen, and you continue to share a bunk with the same girl from three years ago who's been here longer than you.
age 14:
the states of the lower districts only seems to decline as you get older with the corrupted hierarchy and the rich taking all the resources for themselves.
for hundreds of years--you've learned, that it's always been bad, but everything's looking far worse than it has even four years ago.
but with the conditions in the lower three districts deteriorating, the citizens are growing more vocal, bitter, and resentful of those that resides in peace while everyone else is suffering.
the disparity not only made everyone despite the higher ups, but also each other as the stresses of the poor states get to them. and with you living in one of the three's, it made you harbor a hatred toward the top two districts as well, unable to see them past anything but greedy and power-hungry.
slanders of the royal family increased then. talks of overthrowing the king or starting a war for equal resources for all districts, and some even saying they'd rather swim across the ocean to reach kingdom aurora than to live in this "hellhole". but at the time, they were nothing but empty threats to make one feel better.
age 15:
you were so scared at first, hearing of all the horror stories told by the older, taunting kids who's gonna get moved into a family soon, that you're gonna be unlucky for the rest of your life and not get chosen like them.
that you're just gonna stay here until some lowly men decides to buy you off, or probably meet a worse fate.
but one sudden day when the director of the orphanage comes running into the dining hall and announces to all the kids to be on their best behaviors because someone from the second district is going to be coming down the next day, your life changes for the better at the age of fifteen.
you didn't think you had a chance at all, but you still wanted to try because no matter the intense dislike you hold for the two higher districts, if there's an opportunity for a better life, you're going to take it.
it's better than staying here and suffering. everyone else is becoming desperate and you're not any different.
the lady comes the following day as expected, her carriage alerting the entire place of her arrival as all the kids are on their knees with desperation in their eyes.
you guys have never had any visitors from a district so high up before, so this is very crucial.
when she walks in, everyone bows to welcome her, the sight as equally mesmerizing to others as it is to you. never in your life have you seen anyone with so many pearls and jewels, the gown she's wearing made of only the best materials.
it then hits you harder that however this lady decides to take you in, you're going to be living a comfortable life no matter what.
she takes one look around the room, all the children secretly crossing their fingers and it's when her eyes land on you and her lips turn up into a smile.
the director tells her you're a good kid. often guarded and doesn't really get along with the others, but well behaved nonetheless.
it feels weird to be the one everyone's envious of when you were usually on the opposite spectrum, but now passing all the kids as you make way to the front door, all their burning gazes planting a seed of guilt because you understand the feeling all too well.
but with the nation in this state, all anyone can do is look out for themselves. eventually, their time will come, and this just so happens to be yours.
the lady sits you down in the carriage next to her while the coachman leads the way back. she informs you will be working under the family as a servant but will be provided housing, food, and even freedom from time to time.
"i heard you like sewing."
you nod shyly at her words.
"i learned it from my mother."
"good. then you will have the opportunity to hone the skill."
the trip to the second district takes a total of three days, the only times you guys stopped was for food or toilet breaks. when the coachman announces the arrival, your first time seeing the scenery is that to of a fish fresh out of water.
you didn't even know trees or grass could be that green. or that it's not always supposed to feel like a sense of dread that takes the smiles off people's faces until they just look straight miserable.
it's as if you've entered a completely different nation, unable to comprehend the huge difference already, even in comparison to the third district.
the lady is quick to disappear into the house almost the size of the orphanage itself, calling for someone else to escort you around and show what the next couple of years (and possibly, the rest of your life) has in store for you.
you're to wake up at 5am everyday to prepare food for the noble family, and will be sharing a chamber with three other female servants: the main cook, the main cleaner, and another young girl about your age.
you're only allowed to wander during weekends with authorization and is only to go out for groceries or other necessities. other than that, any rule breaking will have consequences.
for the next couple of days, you practice the routine.
waking up in the early morning and prepping breakfast, then cleaning, and repeat for lunch and dinner. sometimes, you'd get to do different tasks like helping the noble daughter pick out a dress or shoes for the day, but that's only if you get called.
you pick up the cooking and cleaning quite fast because you used to help your parents a lot. and though the work hours can be tiring, the food you're eating and the place you sleep in is a lot better.
you also get the occasional freedom and access to improve your seamstress skills, and it's not the ideal life, but it is the best one for someone like you.
--
you hear a grunting sound close by one morning when you decide to wake up earlier than usual.
turning to the source, you see a figure far away near the tall gates, prancing around in his heavy armors with a sword in his hand. the sight definitely amazes you as you're only able to stare in awe before accidentally creating a ruckus that catches the attention of the stranger as he turns around.
it's still dark and you can't see his face very well, only until he starts walking toward you.
"can i help you?" he asks, voice a type of husky but innocent.
"oh, no." you shake your head, "i was just uhm... watching."
he chuckles and looks to the ground, your eyes trained on the way his dark hair ruffles along with his movements until he's staring at you again, finally out of the poor lighting.
he's cute and has childlike features. definitely not an appearance that gives away he could probably slice you dead right now if he wants to.
"you're the new worker," he vocalize, and it takes you a second to figure how he knew, following his gaze to the door of the chamber behind you.
"ah, yes i am." you nod.
"cool. well, i'm the gatekeeper. jongho."
"gatekeeper?" you crank an eyebrow, so far behind on rich people terminology, you have no idea what that means.
"i just protect and patrol the place in case of any intruders. it sounds fancy but it's really not. you don't have to keep it formal, though. we're all servants here."
"i see." you smile tight-lipped.
he also does look a little too young to be manhandling weapons or putting his life on the line, but you too, are also too young to be losing your parents and getting sold off as a servant.
for anyone in the lower three districts, it is all for survival.
you soon learn that jongho was born in the fourth district but he's been living and training here for so long, he can barely recall his time there.
and you're not sure what it is about him that makes you open up given the fact you've been closed off for so long ever since your parents death and the comprehension of the cruel world you're living in, but through the year and before you turn sixteen, you find your first true friend in choi jongho.
age 16:
you get acquainted with hongjoong, a friend of jongho and a messenger who travels in and out of the districts to deliver any important information.
you're not sure how he keeps his identity on the low in spite of the growing tension between all the districts, but jongho assures you he has his ways.
jongho spends his days training with many kinds of weapons; swords, spears, daggers, crossbows, and just about everything when he's not guarding the house--which he usually isn't because the second district is still relatively safe at this time.
but if there is any outside attackers, it would be jongho's and the other men's responsibilities to protect the noble family. it's what they've all been trained for.
you still cook and clean, and your sewing skills have gotten increasingly better that you also started picking up embroidery.
on the occasion, jongho would teach you how to use a dagger just so you'd have some knowledge of self defense and protection considering the alarming state of the nation.
and now that you're living under people of noble status, royal parties and balls were the standards. not that you'll ever get to attend them for yourself, always hearing about it for an alternative or watching the noble family dress up in pretty attires that cost hefty coins before they waddle off in their carriage into the first district.
hongjoong returns a week later, informing you and jongho that the conditions, especially in the fifth district, is really bad that some citizens have decided to risk their lives in hope of reaching the kingdom of aurora since ships and boats cannot be sailed without approval from the royal family.
"it's basically a death sentence to be living in any of the lower districts at this point. i fear if the king doesn't do anything about it, a civil war may be on the horizon."
age 17:
not much changes and hongjoong has said that the king, along with other royal and noble families, refused to take actions since the dividing of resources for all the other districts would cause the first and second to falter because they do not have enough for everyone.
it's better to keep some afloat than to put the entire nation at risk.
"but sir, that's only going to keep running the citizens out of the nation, and the ones that do stay are becoming angry. the first organization against the royal family already formed, calling themselves outlaws. and they're not just ordinary citizens. they could infiltrate the two higher districts if they want to. a solution is not to only keep them happy, but to also prevent a war."
"then strengthen the security. we also have equally skilled men, if not, more. send any able-bodied men to the gates of the first and second district and don't let anybody from the lower threes enter."
age 18:
things only get worse. nobody is allowed to travel freely between the districts anymore and anyone from the first two were strongly advised not to go down because the chances of getting robbed or assaulted are high.
the four working men in the house dwindled down to two because the other two, including jongho, would be sent to guard the entrance. but during rotation when he gets to come back to sleep and eat, he'd tell you that it's eerily quiet, but that all the lower districts know the higher ones are blocking off entrance and might retaliate soon.
"we should be prepared for the worst. hongjoong said the fact they're quiet might mean the organization is planning something."
age 19:
for a while, security at the entrance decreases when it looks like the lower districts weren't gonna try to do anything about it.
jongho and the other men in the house were able to stay around longer, sometimes even for a few days straight without going back, and the outrage did feel like it was just a false alarm.
no one in the higher districts, even hongjoong, were prepared for the storm that is after the calm.
"y/n! wake up!"
you groggily groan at the voice, sounding both hushed but eager as it jolts you from sleep.
it's jongho and he looks absolutely terrified, his figure hovering over your body still in bed.
"come on, y/n! we have to get going!"
you don't have the time to take in anything, jongho already pulling you up harshly to stand on your feet as you hurl out more groans and complaints.
"what's going on? i was sleeping, you know."
"the king is dead."
it's those words that makes you more awake than ever, unable to believe as you just stare dumbfoundedly while he ravages the drawers for more appropriate clothings.
"w-what? h-how?" you can barely form anything coherent at this point, your heart racing so fast.
"he was assasinated," jongho reveals, throwing a loose, oversized shirt at you. "we're not sure how they managed to get that far up the first district, but all this time, that must've been what they were preparing for--you need to get changed."
he throws you a pair of pants and continues speaking, at the same time going through almost the entire perimeter for anything that will prove useful.
you don't even care he's in the same room, your body going into shock and quickly pulling the night gown off before putting on what he gave you.
"hongjoong thinks they're planning a raid, starting from the second district and working their way up. if we stay here, we could get captured, held hostage, or whatever those outlaws want to do with us--here."
he finds the dagger he had given you sitting in the last drawer, pulling the extra sheath out of his pouch and running to tie it around your waist.
"keep this with you at all time, and remember what i taught you. just in case we ever get separated, you need to protect yourself," he demands, passing the dagger to you with an extremely serious look on his face along with the statement just now, making you queasy in the stomach.
you can't imagine having to part from jongho for whatever reason. you wouldn't know what to do.
he gestures to your shoes and you wear it quickly.
"now come on, let's go!" he grabs your wrist and your body flings forward, only managing to grab the pouch on top the dresser before your feet's following his steps out the door despite the lingering sleepiness and that you could be forgetting something else, but it's all happening so fast, your mind struggling to keep up.
you're about to ask him about the other servants, or the noble family, but as he whisk you into the nightly air, the breeze pushing past your skin, you realize that before jongho came, you were alone.
they all left you.
"where are we going?" you ask.
"down to the third district. hongjoong lended me a map and said to go through the forest, we'll catch less attention that way. he said we can stay at one of his hideouts for now."
for the next hours, you don't see anything but trees and branches in your way, and the moon high above the dark sky as it follows both you and jongho.
your feet tired and sore at this point, asking jongho to find a place to sit even for just a few minutes because you might just pass out.
"if we keep at this pace, we'll be able to make it to the third district by morning," he informs, handing over the costrel and telling you to drink.
you nod, passing it back after finishing, observing for a few seconds as jongho takes a couple sips.
"so where did everyone else go?" you finally bring up the question bothering you.
"to the lower districts. i heard some are hoping to reach the port so they'll get the chance to sail to aurora or dune, now that the royal family is in a crisis, people don't care anymore. but as you already know, we have limited ships and boats and it's going to be a bloodbath all around."
he goes on, "we only found out the king was dead when people from the first district started migrating, and then everyone in the second started panicking, and i honestly did too initially. i was about to start heading down until i remembered you."
you smile and nudge the boy with your elbow affectionately.
"if not for you, i probably would've turned into a corpse by tomorrow."
"pfft," he scoffs, "not a corpse but a captive maybe. their target is still the royal family, and now that the king is dead, they'll most likely go after the prince. the raid is just to scare people off so they can bask in the lavish that the first and second district has to offer. but still, it's better to be safe than sorry. they did killed the king, after all."
you take in the information, asking one last question.
"and where is hongjoong?"
"he was also in the second district at the time, but after lending me the map and instructions, he said he's gonna go up in order to get more details; hopefully talk to the prince and will report back in a few days."
"do you think he's going to be okay?"
jongho nods and stands up from the log, reaching his hand out to help you.
"he should be. he wouldn't be able to survive for this long if he isn't competent. but we should get going or else the trip will be delayed."
--
the hideout is a small shack in the corner of the wood, blending into the surroundings so perfectly, you and jongho almost missed it.
it's essentially a square with a single wooden bed, one chair, and a small table with an ewer sitting on top. jongho said the water in there should still be good to use, and that he brought enough breads to survive on for a few days.
"i can take the floor," he says, taking off the crossbow and sword that's been stuck to his body for an entire night and settling them down.
"we can take turns," you offer an alternative, pitying the boy because he's the one who's been doing most of the works.
"alright."
he nods it off. he wasn't gonna fight you on it.
you and jongho passes time by training for the majority of time. sometimes, you'd just watch, but when he isn't worn out by his own routine, he'd tell you the basics of a crossbow and a knightly sword and would proceed to watch you practice with the dagger.
"you're holding it like a coward who's never fought in their life," is his usual criticism.
"well maybe cause i am a coward who has never fought before," you will retort.
"when facing an enemy, you can't show that you're afraid. you have to believe in yourself."
"easy for you to say."
but regardless of his yapping that sometimes make you roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head, he's a good teacher and even complimented you. if saying that you're a lot less awful than when you started, counts.
three days later from when you both settled, the light, passive knock at the door alerts you and jongho, you almost wishing it was one of the outlaws, preferably a weaker member just so you can put what you've learned to use.
but it's hongjoong.
"so what did the prince say?" jongho asks, quick and eager.
"he's recruiting. said he'll take in anyone still willing to stand by his side while he figure things out. he needs time."
"what about the guards and men that were in the castle? isn't it their duty to protect the royal family?"
"more than half of them ran to the lower districts. the outlaws probably won't do much to a normal citizen, but they will be vile to anyone on the prince's side."
"and he didn't try to stop them?" you join, hongjoong turning his head to you and shaking.
"he said he wasn't gonna force anyone who didn't want to stay. but for those willing to fight by his side, he'll take them."
you don't mean to come off hypercritical, but you can't help but think that the prince is being careless.
"but the outlaws want him dead, no? he shouldn't be taking in just anybody. that's too dangerous."
hongjoong just shrugs.
"that was his order."
a silence hangs between the three of you after, and one glance at jongho, you see that conflicted look in his eyes and know that he's about to say something you won't like.
"i'll go."
you snap your neck to him so fast, there must've been a pop.
"what--jongho, no," you object, worry in your tone. hongjoong just standing by and watching the incoming dispute unfold.
"it's better than standing around and waiting for something to happen."
"but putting your life on the line? for all you know, there might not even be a solution at all. look at the state of the kingdom. people are running away, everyone fearing for their own safety. in the end, you could be dying for nothing. did you forget it's because of these people that us born in the lower districts have to live a shit life?"
by now, you're both facing each other and fuming through your noses.
"and did you forget that we haven't been to the lower districts in years? ever since we got the opportunity to move into one of the top two? even if we were just servants, we were living better than a normal family in the fifth district. i was guarding and blocking off an entrance because i was so much better than the people trying to get through. you think i enjoyed doing that shit? no. but it was my job. in some ways, we betrayed our roots, y/n. and you're right. the prince could be lying and stalling out of his ass, but you know... i'm hoping that he's not. because for once, i want to feel like i'm doing something worthy. i didn't train all my life just to guard gates where nothing ever fucking happens nine out of ten times."
you watch in disbelief as he turns to pick up his crossbow and sword.
"so whether you like it or not, i'm going."
he gives hongjoong a stern look, to which the older man returns one, but is soon carried away by your voice again.
"then i'm going with you."
and jongho knows he's going to sound like a hypocrite; the fact he cares for you as much as you care for him so he doesn't want you to put yourself in the face of danger.
he also understands that you share the same sentiment in regard to him, which is why you don't want him to go.
"no. it's safest for you to stay here. you don't have the same training and combat that i do. you can barely hold a dagger the right way and it's one of the most light and basic weapon. those outlaws will pummel you like a bug."
you roll your eyes and you can see hongjoong trying to hold in his laughter.
"well geez, thanks, master. but boohoo. all i know is that i need to stab," you snark, managing to pull a small smile from jongho before switching tone. "i'm serious, though. i know i'm not gonna be pounding anyone, but i'd still like to come with. it would put a lot of my worries to rest knowing you're alive and okay."
"i'll be fine, y/n," he assures, one hand on your shoulder, "and if it'll make you feel better, if hongjoong doesn't mind, he can come once in a while to inform you of what's going on."
you meet hongjoong's gaze at that and he nods with a thin smile.
but that's still not good enough for you because how can you possibly be okay with the only person you can call family, going off and risking his life?
you're not.
which is why when they both finally depart, you wait until they're a good distance away yet still visible to the eye, tying the sheath the way jongho did and sticking your dagger in before taking the costrel he left for you along with the remaining breads and following right behind them.
hongjoong used to travel on horseback but he has to be more discreet this time around, especially going up the higher districts.
you're somewhat thankful for that because you're not sure you can keep up if that was the case.
you stop when they stop, and rest when they rest. you would try listening in on their conversations but it's always inaudible from where you're at.
you put aside the pain of an aching feet or fear of the nightly forest, afraid you would give yourself out.
two days later, you're sure you guys are close. a part of you somewhat curiously pumped because you've never wander up the first district before.
with the sun setting and the stars soon to come out, you're hoping to arrive before it gets too dark because you really are dreading the idea of spending another night hidden behind itchy bushes.
dragging yourself up the steep hill, you can't help but to admire the scenery, the air of utopia still fresh and the birds still chirp like the nation is whole, resuming your steps only to see that you've lost sighting of jongho and hongjoong, and if you're any quicker, they will catch on.
you don't panic just yet, although you're getting nervous, but carrying on because the castle shouldn't be too far from here. as soon as you can spot it, it should be easy to trace it back to the two.
the only problem is how you're gonna get in once you reach it.
as you get closer to the top, you can spot the castle's head peaking, and once finally on flat land, you're able to see the entire thing, and the dazzling white architecture is hard to miss.
the heart and soul of utopia planted right in the center of the first district, and you've never seen anything more sophisticated in your entire life. but as you sneak closer, you're sure that you're not even gonna make it past the portcullis.
if you don't find jongho, you'd be coming all this way for nothing.
--
you've been watching the guards at the gate and their patterns of behavior for the last hour, every time inching closer to the entrance with the least amount of noise as possible.
but you should've known. you've overestimated your ability (by a large margin) thinking you can outsmart people who does this for a living, and of all places, it had to be royal family's. stupid.
you barely take a step when the pressure of a sharp object against your back make your eyes go wide in horror.
you're thinking this is it. you should've listened to jongho and should have not acted like such a know-it-all, because the next time he sees you, it will be in corspe form.
the beating of your heart is loud along with the stranger's breathing, their hand going retrieve your dagger from the sheath, and if they attack, you will have no other way to defend yourself.
"who the hell are you and why are you sneaking around my castle?" the deep, masculine tone drowns your ears.
my castle?
you foolishly turn around like an idiot, feeling the pressure of the object move to your neck instead, looking up at this mysterious stranger but unable to make anything out.
the running of footsteps and commotion can be heard from behind you, a series of voices and better lighting approaching with all the torches in the guards hands, and when you're finally able to make out the pair of eyes staring back, it feels as if you forgot how to breathe.
because if it isn't the most beautiful man you've ever seen, dark locks, sly and sharp eyes to that of a fox that looks disapproving of your choices before it turns slightly softer when he sees how harmless you actually look, the weapon in his hand lowering with a clear of his throat.
"what part of 'it's safest if you stay here' did you not understand?"
jongho's loud and frustrated voice echoes through the entire hall, pacing back and forth in place as he reprimands you in front of hongjoong, the prince, and his other royal companions.
the prince (who you have to make a point one more time that he's devastingly beautiful) was unexpectedly casual when you explained to him you were looking for your friends, even returning your dagger.
"i only came because i was worried about you. i know you would do the same for me."
"yes, but something could've happened to you. you could've gotten lost, or worse."
"as you can see, i'm fine. the most life threatening thing was the prince putting a knife to my back and neck."
"because you were limping around the castle like an idiot."
"well, what was he doing outside of it anyways?"
"why are you talking about the prince like that!" he yells, and the both of you having an awakening at the same time, registers how embarrassing and inappropriate it actually is to be having a screaming match in the royal family's hall, turns to the prince and bow in apology.
"sorry," you both mutter.
"it's fine," the prince dismisses.
when you were still living at the orphanage, some of the kids would often play guessing games about the prince just because the chances of ever meeting him were close to none, everyone might as well get creative.
some assumed he's a snob because kids being kids, they were all jealous of the fact he was living better, and so it's only natural he would think he's better than everyone else.
then some thought he looked like a troll, which was why the king and queen kept him inside most of the time.
none of you guys knew a lot about the prince, but there were words on the street that he almost never went out of the castle; some even using that as confirmation for why he's a stuck-up.
but after meeting him, he's nothing like the kids have predicted.
he definitely does not look like a troll or sound like a snob, at least so far. he's actually rather soft-spoken, though a bit aloof and stoic. but you suppose one isn't gonna be jolly after the death of their father.
--
jongho had insisted that you go back immediately, and you were considerate of the castle's deities enough to pull him outside just to object.
but you only got another line in the quarrel before the prince intervened and much to jongho's dismay, said you could stay for the night since it was getting late and traveling would be difficult.
"but you're leaving as soon as the sun comes up!" he proceeds to nag the entire time you tuck yourself to bed, the prince kindly offering a spare chamber for you to stay in.
"yes. i know," you reply, all snarky tone and turning to face the other way because he's getting on your nerves.
there's a quick silence before the edge of the bed creaks with his weight.
"look, i know you only came because you were worried about me, and you're right, i would do the same for you."
you toss slowly to look him up in the eyes from your position.
he goes on, now locking you in his gaze, "but it's way too dangerous for you to stay here, and we don't know when they're going to attack. and worse, if they see you're in alliance with the prince, who knows what they'll do? i'll be fine. this is what i've trained my whole life for. you just have to believe in me."
you sigh and frown, finally deciding to cave because you do know that jongho is capable. you've never doubted him. it's the opponents that you're unsure of, their next moves could be anything.
"i'll go back, but hongjoong still needs to follow the end of the deal."
jongho smiles warmly, relieved you're no longer trying to fight him on this.
"he'd be happy to."
you nod, figuring that since you're already here, you might as well ask.
"so how many men volunteered?"
"for now, three. me, someone named yunho from the third district, and another guy named minjun. but more might wind up later, who knows."
"i still don't think it's smart of the prince to be taking in just anyone. it's way too risky. you have good intentions, but what about the two other?" you voice concernedly, your forehead starting to crease from the distress.
you just met the prince, but you know that the idea is ridiculous and you don't want him meeting the same fate as his father.
"optimism maybe? i don't know. more than half of the royal family's protections are gone so he probably can't be too picky. but i'd like to think he knows what he's doing."
but he's also still young and is currently in a worse position than his father, the king, who couldn't even save utopia. you don't think anybody is ready to be in his place, let alone lead an entire kingdom that's falling apart.
"alright. then you should return to the others; help them look after the prince. he's going to need it."
"actually, he ordered us to stay with the queen and princess."
you shoot up from position, incredulity written all over your face.
"what--why? all of you guys? then who's going to look after him?"
jongho shrugs.
"i disagree as well, but after all, he's the prince. we can't disobey orders."
"you guys should be allowed to if it's foolish. what is going on in his head?" you shake your own, unable to believe it.
you just know that something bad is gonna happen, and it would be due to the prince's own incompetence.
jongho has no idea either given he only just met him as well, but he's crossing his fingers the prince will prove both of you wrong.
"i have to go. you should get some rest because you'll be leaving in the early morning. i'll see you then."
--
you're woken up by a heavy disturbance, the ruckus happening outside of the room but also sounding so close.
it might be best if you stay here; leave whatever the noises is to the guards in the castle, but you just feel it in your guts that your prediction have came true.
carefully opening the door, you peek your head out, immediately drawn to the bright light illuminating at the end of the hall, and soon, your quick and eager feet has taken you to the shocking sight.
the prince standing before jongho and another guard as they hold back someone you can't quite recall. one of his hand tending to the cut on his left arm, and you can see the red seeping through the thin white fabric.
the prince meets your eyes when he notices you standing outside.
"i knew it!" you screech, your turn to pace back and forth as jongho watches from the side. "he shouldn't have just taken in anyone!"
you found out it was minjun, one of threes who volunteered along with jongho, who attacked the prince. apparently, he had snuck away from the other guards and was in the prince's room within minutes, a sword aimed at the young royal that could've taken his life.
"luckily, he only got off with a cut. i can't even imagine what would've happened."
jongho groans anxiously, the first day on the job and the reality of it already showing its head.
"there's nothing luck-based about the prince's survival," hongjoong's voice has you both turning as he appears from the opened door.
"prince san isn't only highly skilled in all areas of fighting, but he's the best warrior utopia has to offer. he most likely knew about the attack beforehand, which was why he only got away with a cut considering minjun also isn't just an average member of the outlaws," hongjoong reveals, the new information makes you and jongho gawk at each other in surprise.
"y/n," he calls out, and you detach from jongho's eyes to look at him.
"yes?"
"i need you to do me a favor. i trust you enough, and you look rather... harmless."
you pinch in your brows. if he wants to go off about your terrible fighting and self defense skill, he might as well just spell it out.
"the prince said he has a plan, but we're going to need to buy time. and no matter how skilled he is, we can't keep dealing with people coming into the castle in attempts to severe the prince's head. it's best if he's away until we can figure things out, for his safety and the kingdom's."
you only hum and nod, wondering where exactly this is going.
"he'll be leaving with you in the morning."
your face falls in horror, unable to believe they're entrusting the prince to you. the thoughts of being alone with someone like him both terrifying but weirdly stimulating.
"oh my gosh, she's blushing..." jongho yelps, a smirk tugging at his lips. he's seen the way you'd ogle at the prince, definitely something you never did to any other men.
"i'm not!" you cry defensively, embarrassed. "i-i just don't think i'm the right person."
"we just need the prince away from the castle for a few days. for now, it look like the outlaws are not planning on moving up the first district entirely, so the rest of us should be safe as well for the time being. you still remember the way back to the shack, right?"
you nod hesitantly.
"good. then it's settled."
--
the following morning, everyone bids farewell to the prince, the queen and princess wishing him well as the guards and hongjoong stack him with equipments, while jongho makes you carry the food and water.
he takes off the royal attire, disguising himself in commoner clothings instead, as recommended by his companion, wooyoung.
hongjoong promises to report back once things get relatively better.
at first, it's nerve-racking because you just can't help it. the prince is so handsome and your touch-starved body just reacts naturally, but once you figure he isn't gonna talk to you, only gesturing or murmuring out short instructions, the spark wears off.
"we should stop and rest for the night," he speaks more than three words for the first time, laying down his stuff and nodding to the tall tree.
"alright."
you settle your things down as well, plopping against the tree and waiting for him to do the same but he instead pulls out the sword and starts slashing the air.
when he takes notice of your gawking from behind, he apologizes.
"sorry, i'm just... practicing, hope you don't mind. you can rest, i'll keep watch."
you nod it off, sleep soon taking over, but when you wake a few hours later, able to tell from the different color painting the sky, the prince is still practicing and seems just as eager as he was before.
"prince," you call out, his movements halting in place as he turns back at the sound of your voice.
"call me san."
you clear your throat, "uh... san, have you slept at all?"
he shakes his head.
"i was practicing."
you stand up, dusting off the dirts from your pants and growing concerned regarding the sleepless prince.
"you can sleep. i'll keep watch and if there's anything, i'll wake you up," you offer, but he's quick to reject the proposal.
"no need to. i'm not tired anyways. if you're feeling fully rested, we can keep going. the sun is almost up."
you watch in dejection as he goes to retrieve his things because you're not sure you can believe he's not even the tiniest bit tired from everything so far.
--
it takes almost an entire day to reach the destination, your body tired and aching for something to sit on, the minute you reach the shack, you're sprawled all over the chair.
the prince looks just fine, though.
"it's small, but comfortable," you assure the prince just in case he has any doubts in mind. because you initially did, too, but it was surprisingly homey when you last stayed with jongho.
he nods, eyes roaming the small interior.
"it'll do."
"you can take the bed. i don't mind taking the floor," you tell him, but he instead shakes his head.
"the bed's all yours. i'll be outside practicing."
you scowl and sit up from your seat.
"again? we've been traveling all day. you should really get some rest considering you didn't get any the night before."
but he's stubborn, grabbing for his sword again as you can only sigh in disapproval.
"i really don't feel tired."
"then you should eat, at least."
"i'm not hungry."
you end up going to bed alone, only listening to the prince's grunting and slashing outside as he practices like he's trying to reach out to something or someone.
the uneasiness consuming you, seeing him always looking so miserable as if something's bothering him, unable to rest or do anything else.
it's understandable because of the circumstances he's in, but you wish he would be kinder to himself.
you only give him another two hours before taking matters into your own hand, flinging the door open to his figure dancing around the area with his sword, calling his name softly that makes him stop in track to look at you.
"enough," you mumble, quiet but stern, prying the weapon out of his hold with so much power, you think jongho would be proud.
"no, i have to pr--" he reaches for the sword but you move back, the prince grabbing only the nightly air in place.
"no, you don't," you spit, your free hand going to grab his wrist and dragging him back inside. "you need to eat and rest."
the sword clinks the flooring when you drop it, sitting san down on the bed and grabbing some of the breads and dried meat before taking the seat next to him.
"i understand you're going through a lot right now and it's tough, but you need to take care of yourself. you can't wear your body out or punish it. you're not even fully healed from the cut. if something happens, if worst comes to worst, you need to be prepared to fight."
you push the food toward him but he doesn't budge the slightest. his eyes trained on it, but everything else completely frozen.
for a second, you think all the efforts is gonna go to waste because the prince won't listen, but much to your surprise, he starts talking.
"my father and everyone around me would always say i was the best fighter in the entire kingdom; that i was one of a kind, gifted from a young age, and the future of utopia. i used to believe that as well, but what kind of prick can't even save his own father?"
a small gasp fall, fussing under your breath, "san..."
"maybe i'm only as great because i had the access and materials to become great. but in actuality, i would be no more than average in any other scenarios."
"san, you are great. hongjoong said you are, and you even fought off minjun. it's not your fault what happened to your father," determination in your delivery, finding yourself oddly caring for someone you barely knew.
"father did always lived every day as if it was his last. he knew everyone was out to get him..." he fidgets with one of the breads before taking a small bite out of it. "i thought it would make me feel better if i caught his killer, but i really don't feel any different."
"so hongjoong was right. you knew about the attack?"
you watch as he ogles at the piece of bread like it's the most interesting thing in the world, noddling lightly and taking another bite.
"somewhat, yeah. i was the one who found my father's body, and you can imagine… it's not easy for any kid to see their own parent blue in the face, lying lifeless in front of them, and especially knowing their murderer got away. it made me vengeful, but i couldn't act recklessly. i had to set up a bait because i didn't know who it was, but i knew they were coming."
you listen to each of his words so attentively, and you make sure he knows.
"it could've been your friend, jongho, or the others that came along. it could be anyone. it could be all of them. but regardless, whoever it was wanted me dead just like my father and wouldn't have passed up the chance."
you exhale, looking at the prince with sympathy and sadness in your eyes, all this time you really gave him too little credits, one of your hand somehow finding itself on top his resting one and soothing it.
"i can't do much, but i'm here to listen. if we're going to be together for a while, we might as well have each other's back."
and when san finishes his food and actually goes to sleep for the rest of the night (although you did have to fight him about sleeping on the floor), you finally feel at ease, able to go to sleep knowing he's not pushing himself.
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san is the first thing you see upon waking up, his figure bending down a couple feet away and drinking out of the costrel.
he knows you're up from the movements, turning to meet your tired eyes.
"good morning."
"good morning, san."
"you should eat first. i left some out for you."
"oh, okay."
you nod politely, throwing the blanket off and getting up from the makeshift bed, but first telling him that you're gonna go wash your face.
"i checked the ewer. there's no more water in there."
"hmm," you hum, attempting to come up with a solution. "i'm gonna go down to the river. i'll be back in a bit."
"wait." his call stops you in track, half your body out the door. "i'd like to come with."
"is that okay? i mean... will that be safe?" because now that the prince is with you, you feel it is your responsibility to keep him out of danger no matter how unskillful you are. you don't want a single sighting putting his life on the line (more than it already is).
"we'll make it quick. besides, i need to wash up as well. i don't feel too clean from all those practices."
the river is actually quite close by, having never been there during your stay in this district but following the sound of nature was relatively easy to do. and you suppose hongjoong chose the spot for this reason.
once there, you're splashing your face immediately and rejoicing in the cool sensation, only just registering san's been watching you the entire time when you turn and meet his piercing gaze.
his expression blank before dropping to a smile at your wide-eye. and the first time that he does, you realize you've never seen him smile, ever. your attention taken away by the deep indentations appearing from his cheeks, and for just a second, your heart feels like it might explode.
but it's his turn with the river, you observing as he mimics you until both your faces are wet and raining with droplets.
"here," you say, pulling out the spare handkerchief you had remember to bring before coming, offering it to him then using the other one for yourself.
he thanks you, about to wipe his face when the striking design catches his eye.
"this is beautiful," he comments, your head snapping his direction. "did you make it yourself?"
you nod shyly.
"i picked up embroidery somewhere after sewing for a while."
the conversation continues on the walk back, san asking the questions because he just grasped the revelation he doesn't know anything about you.
aside from trying to sneak into his castle and being the friend of one of his guards, that's as much as he can recall off the top of his head although you're quite literally in a life or death situation with him.
"you said you picked up embroidery, so are you from the second district?"
san knows almost everyone who lived in the first district, having spent his entire life and becoming familiar with the surrounding neighbors.
during the occasional balls and parties, he'd get acquainted with some from the second districts. but he's never seen you before. if he did, he would probably be able to recognize you.
but he knows that a hobby and skill like embroidery was something only those in the top two could afford. it was a luxury, as much as san hates putting it like that.
you giggle at the thought and shake your head.
"i was a servant for a family from the second, but i'm originally from the fifth. i picked up embroidery because the daughter of the family was pressured into learning and i was there to help sometimes."
"oh..." is all he says.
maybe he expected you to have some noble blood or be from greatness, but the only thing close to the two were the shoes you shined and the people you served.
your entire life, nothing about you was ever great or noble.
you may have ran from the lower district for a better life, but you were never ashamed of where you came from.
it made you who you are, and if anything, you're a survivor.
"yeah..." you mumble, stopping once reaching the shack again.
he picks it up from your tone, correcting himself to make sure you don't misunderstand, "no. i didn't mean it like that. i'm just, curious about you and your background."
"oh?" you squeak, "then what do you want to know, prince."
you take a seat where he was sitting before, reaching for the food he left for you and looking up at him from where you are, wondering what kind of prince would want to know about a commoner like you.
"an iris," he refers to the pattern embroidered on the handkerchief, "was there a reason why you chose it?"
you smile softly, the question taking you back to a lane of memories and nostalgia.
"it was both of my parents' favorite flower. they always did clung onto any sort of hope there was when it came to our living conditions, and father would always used to say the iris not only symbolized that, but also courage and bravery. i don't know how true that is, but i tend to associate the flower with my parents. it was all i managed to take when me and jongho ran from the second district."
"that's sweet," the prince says, making your eyelashes bat as he plops down at the end of the makeshift bed but he never once look away from you. "and where are your parents?"
the death of your parents was once something that was difficult to talk about; a reality that you used to deny because you couldn't accept that they're no longer by your side and sharing the same struggles. because you guys did suffered a lot, but you all had each other.
and suddenly, you only had yourself.
it wasn't until jongho that you started to open up again; learn to let someone into your heart; to share the same struggles and to suffer all over again, but at least with someone by your side once more.
and it's with that lesson that you allow the prince in as well, unveiling some parts of yourself, for some reason feeling like you can entrust it to him.
"they passed away. the fishermen said the sea took them. it's been a long time and i've come to terms with it."
you don't miss the way his chest fall and a sullen look takes over his expression.
"i'm sorry to hear."
his life experiences and pain could never compare to anyone from the lower districts, he understands that all too well; how good and privileged he's had it.
but grief doesn't discriminate, and the feeling is... debilitating.
it makes you go into denial, nothing but a directionless road laying ahead, unable to help but think if you ever will recover.
but he feels a little better after talking to you, a living proof that no matter the loss or grief one goes through, there's a chance he will make it out fine in the end.
--
you're about to go off to bed when you suddenly remember what hongjoong had told you.
"prince," you call from below, the title just naturally rolling off despite the plenty of time he's made clear you can call him by his name.
"we have to change the dressing on your wound."
you get up to go search through one of the heavy bags, digging for some clean linens and vinegar the others had made sure to pack for the prince.
"hongjoong said we should change it every couple of days," you tell him, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stands up from the sleeping position. "your arm, prince." you gesture and watch as he rolls up his sleeve.
your cheeks for some reason start heating up at the sight, the blinking and nervous twitch of your eyes give it away, causing a giggle to tumble out of the prince at your flustered reaction.
"y/n," he speaks, once you've stared for long enough and still have yet to remove the old cloth. "that's what jongho and hongjoong calls you by."
"y-yes." you nod.
"have you ever tend to a wound before?"
"well, no. but i've been instructed on how to."
"i see." he smiles, and you're about to crack at the man in front of you. beautiful smile, perfect features, and some muscular arms to go along with it.
once you've contained yourself (or at least look like it), you unwrap the worn cut-out cloth and replaces it with a new one, every steps of what hongjoong had laid out followed to the very best of your ability.
"thank you, y/n," the prince says one more time, and the last smile on him for the night makes you think he just might be teasing you.
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the past few days that you've spent with the prince, he's proven your expectations and predictions wrong over and over again.
almost like everything you've assumed is untrue in the best way possible. his aloof and stoic ways melting into smiles and laughters when you'd tell him stories about the kids back at the orphanage and how they thought he was a troll.
spending days and nights confined to a small space with someone you just met, the idea sounding awful but the reality actually quite nice because it's comfortable with him.
he not only speaks well, his words always the most soft and unoffending as they can be, but he also listens well.
day by day, the doubts you had--whether he would be able to salvage utopia, changes to the hope and belief that he's more than competent to pull it off.
but there's still questions bothering you; the strangeness of the entire picture in how utopia managed to fall to a state this bad in the first place if the prince is as level-headed as he presents himself.
he at least should've been talking sense into the king.
so you finally ask, during a routine morning where you and san have gotten accustomed to waking up the crack of dawn, sitting facing each other and munching away on portions of food that becomes less the more days pass by.
"san," you start, his name now more comfortable on your lips. it makes him pick his up head from the food to you.
"hongjoong said you have a plan, right? the reason they sent you here was to buy time. i-i was just wondering where does it go from here?" you try your utmost best to not sound meddlesome.
you're just worried.
because as much as you enjoy the time together, the unknown makes you uneasy. you don't want to doubt him but you also don't want everything so far to be for nothing.
it's the prince's personal affairs and not yours, but you just wish for there to be assurances; some kind of proof that speaks he knows what he's doing, because the closer you get to him, the more you fear losing him.
"i have a plan, yes," he answers, the calm demeanor on him a complete contrast to the troubled one on you. "why? are you worried?"
you breathe out, eventually nodding timidly.
"it's just that the state of the kingdom right now is really bad and it's going to take a lot to please the citizens, especially the group of rebellions. the idea of peace just seems so... unreachable."
you already sound like you're about to break down, when the prince--the one actually having to deal with it, looks the most calm and collective.
he acknowledges the concern, thinking it's fairly reasonable. actually, he's surprise everyone's been able to restrain themselves from spiraling for this long.
if he was someone else, he don't think he'll be able to put his trust into an inexperienced prince in hope of him saving the entire nation as well.
"the people of utopia isn't aware, but about a decade ago, the king of aurora, the closest neighboring kingdom to us had offered to help the nation after witnessing the terrible conditions most of the lower districts were suffering from," san reveals, "but my father... he denied the help."
you squeeze your brows in disbelief.
"what--why?"
"the king of aurora only requested for utopia's protections and services in return. as you know, we may lack in every other aspects, but armed forces is our strength. almost every men in the nation has some kind of experience when it comes to fighting or self defense. aurora is a peaceful and harmonious nation, but their men do not have the same training, combats, or skills that we do, and the king of aurora acknowledged the fact. though aurora was very unlikely to get into an altercation with another nation, the king said he would feel a lot better with utopia behind them."
"my father didn't see a point in tying ourselves down, binding an 'unnecessary' responsibility to our back. he said our ancestors' done it for hundreds of years without help and it will continue to be that way. ever since then, aurora has shunned us. they're not gonna start a war over it, but in other words: they hate our guts."
there's a pause from the prince, something shifting in his eyes before he starts again.
"i love and cherish my father. he is my father after all, and most of everything i've been taught were from him. i also understand that some of the things he did were for my mother, me, and my sister. but i wouldn't ever tell him i also think he's selfish; that i disagree with his view of the world; with his way of running things."
the pain in the prince's voice and delivery is seeping, your heart curling at the amount of hurt he must keep to himself, but if you can be the one to lessen it just a little, you will listen to his every words.
"but still, he's my father and i miss him. no matter how selfish and unreasonable he was most of the times, i promise that after everything is over, i will hold a proper burial for him. i will also repay everyone that stood by my side... i promise that."
his volume tapers near the end, his gaze melting into yours at the last statement.
"i also promised i will correct the mistakes of those who came before me, and if it takes my life, at least i'll be content that i went down with my morals. that i fought for what i believed in, even if the ancestors come back to tear me to shreds for it."
you chuckle, attempting to hold back just the smallest tear pricking the corner of your eye because all you ever did was doubt and doubt, and every single time, he always proved you wrong in the best way possible.
"so you're going to attempt to make a truce with aurora?"
he nods.
"i have to try. if we want equality for everyone, we can't do it without the help of aurora. if we do it now, without aide, the nation will fall apart no different than it is now. no amount of transports based on utopia alone will be enough. but aurora's economy; the standing of their nation is stable enough that helping utopia back on its feet will barely feel like a lift of a finger to them."
"but how would the message reach them?"
"on the day that i got attacked, i sent out one of my men, seonghwa. he knows the way around the sea best. by now, considering it's almost been a week, he should have already reached aurora, but it will take another couple of days to return. that's why i need to buy enough time for seonghwa to come back. i know the citizens won't believe it until they see the king and prince yeosang of aurora for themselves."
"and just what if the king and prince rejects the offer?" you're just trying to touch upon all possibilities.
"you see... i've thought of that as well. in fact, there's probably a bigger chance of them dismissing it considering our history and all. but if that was the case, i had already told seonghwa to head for dune next. it will take him at least another week and a half because of the distance, but if worst come to worst, that's our last hope. dune would be a lot harder to get on our side because they're not lacking in anything, their only weakness is they don't have any kind of alliance. and i was hoping after we sign a treaty with aurora, we could try for dune because they'd be more willing then, knowing we also have aurora, but that's only wishful thinking."
"you really thought everything through, huh?" you have to admit, you're impressed.
"you have no idea. every night after my father's passing, i barely got any sleep... until you finally enforced it upon me."
you giggle, meeting a soft smile on the prince's lips.
"well you need it. and seeing as intricate the plan of action is, you're going to need it even more. don't overwork your body, get plenty of rest in preparation of the big day. i believe you'll be able to do it."
there's a quick silence in the air before the prince speaks again.
"thank you... for believing in me, and keeping me sane of all things."
"my pleasure."
"but if hongjoong doesn't show within a few days, or does with the bearer of the bad news, we'd have to be prepared for relocation. they will pick up that i'm not in the castle and will try looking for me. if dune is the alternative, we're going to have to buy even more time."
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"here," san says, coming from behind to stand in front of you, pulling out his own.
after observing one of his practices, he had asked how familiar you are with daggers since he recalled ripping it out of your sheath that day.
you said all understanding you have of it were from jongho, though he liked to find fault in your execution, and after a couple demonstrations, the prince seems to agree that there's a few areas you could improve on.
"a dagger is a short distance combat. some of the most basic requirements in becoming somewhat skilled at is, is trying to master the three primary positions."
you watch him get into stance.
"the first one is a downward thrust, usually used for an opponent who's not experienced in knife combat."
he acts out the method, thrusting his weapon into the air and turning to you.
"you try."
you attempt to mimic what he just did, the weapon a lot light and easier on your grip because the training from jongho did pay off in some ways.
"not bad," he comments, "just more confidence, and don't be afraid. because trust, when the enemy is coming, they won't hold back."
he tightens your grip on the dagger before stepping away.
"this certain method can also be used when an opponent is equipped with another melee weapon, or a firearm."
you nod, his encouragement and gentle teaching style as he tries reframing from straight up saying you stink in some ways or forms, is definitely preferred.
"got it! you are a much better teacher than jongho by a mile. you're actually nice to me," you joke, and the most flattered smile acrossing san's lips doesn't go unseen.
--
you wouldn't ever say it out loud, not to the prince at least.
that though leaving the place and each other's presence will be for a good cause, in some parts of you, you're already starting to dread the separation.
the parts that already grew fond of him in such a short matter of time, you fear there will never be another chance like this. together.
after everything is over, things will go back to the way it was.
he is a prince after all, and you're just... you.
"so, prince, what is the best defense weapon. figure i should ask from only the most competent person in utopia," you talk from your seat, staring up at him as he preps for another hour of practice.
he promised it'll be only an hour today.
"pfft," he blows, "don't say it like that. you might end up unimpressed."
"i mean it."
"you haven't even seen me on the battlefield."
"but i believe in you."
you hop out of your seat to him, tilting your head, "so?"
"i would say a spear. distance is honestly the best defense there is, though i do enjoy practicing with a sword more."
and that's when it happens. all the long days and nights of peace and harmony comes crashing down, from the corner of your eye catching a cloaked figure from far away standing on top one of the hills with a crossbow in their possession.
"prince!" you cry out, pushing his body away from target the hardest ever as he falls to the ground, and then a short second after, the most painful sensation of your chest being struck takes your vision and breath away.
the last thing you see and hear before fading into utter blackness is the sheer horror on the prince's face as his hands are covered with blood, and the desperate call of your name.
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"y/n!"
the sound of jongho's voice makes you think you're in a dream, only until your lids are fluttering open that you see the both, scared but relieved expression of your best friend.
"oh my gosh... thank goodness you're alive."
by how tight he's squeezing your hands, you're glad to know you're not dead just yet.
"where am i?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
"back at the castle. you were out for about four days."
"four days?" you repeat, when the memories come flooding back all at once and then some. "the prince."
you attempt to sit up but the dull pain from where you've been hit prevents you, your head falling back into the pillow.
"easy," jongho soothes your body back into position, "you lost a lot of blood, and not only that, the arrow had been poisoned. luckily, the castle has shelves of antidotes for it, but we were all worried that there was just the smallest chance you weren't gonna make it."
he pauses briefly, "the prince got you here in a day and a half... he felt really bad about what happened. he was by your side the entire time and only just left yesterday night when it was announced the king and prince of aurora have arrived."
"aurora have agreed to a truce?" your tone weak, but still filled with excitement, so happy for the prince.
"yes. and hopefully the prince can get them to sign a treaty. that's the plan. it's still going to take them another two or three days to reach the first district, but the prince wanted to go welcome them formally."
"will he be okay?"
"he's under disguise. but you should get some rest and stop worrying about someone else when you're in a worse condition than them," jongho snarks.
"just making sure..."
a smirk graces your friend, a coy look on him.
"what exactly happened back there that's now making you two act like an old married couple forced to be apart? i've known you for longer than the prince and he looked like he was in more distress than i was."
"nothing that is your business," you dismiss, hoping your cheeks doesn't tint a color that gives it away, a chuckle rolling out of jongho at that.
"you used to want to tell me everything. but fair enough. rest and wait until your body is fully healed. i'll visit you every day to update."
it's hard to wrap your head around the fact you didn't wake up for four days--which, more so, should've been the highlight, but you're more intrigued that the prince was by your side up until the last minute he had to go.
you don't want to get overly giddy about it; go beyond what's appropriate and assume that he did so because of another reason, and not just because he felt bad.
but you do wish to see him soon. even if just for a bit.
--
the next few days is a routine, usually consisting of jongho welcoming you with a wholesome breakfast that's more fulfilling than breads and dried meats, then another meal at dinner.
you're in bed for most of the time, your view usually the ceiling of the castle or the empty space around you, everyone busy and occupied now that the plan is becoming a reality.
jongho tries his best to visit you every day, and hongjoong on the occasion to check your condition, but if they're not patrolling outside, they're in halls discussing the next course of actions.
you've heard that the prince have returned just last night with the royals of aurora, not a single peace or quiet outside of your room since.
you can only hope that the loud and muffled voices outside is an indication that everything is going to work out for the prince; for the kingdom of utopia.
laying around in bed all day, only watching as the sun comes up and down as the wind sways the branches outside the window, wishing you could contribute more, if anything than just wait around all day feeling absolutely useless.
the first creak of the door ever since morning is heard, jongho having told you he won't be able to bring the next meal as he'd be out with the other guards but said someone else would.
and every time, no matter how hard you try burying the inappropriate sentiment, you wish it was the prince, even if just to see him for a minute.
you haven't seen him since that day.
but still, you're grateful to have any interactions at all. even if it's not the prince.
"hey," hongjoong greets, a thin smile on as he goes to take a seat on the stool facing the bed.
"hey hongjoong," you return, finally able to sit up without feeling like your gut's about to spill out.
"you doing better?"
you nod.
"a lot better compared to before."
"good. thought i should drop by to let you know about what's going to happen the next couple of days," his voice a deeper, stern tone, "the prince and royals of aurora will be going down the districts, one by one. the prince wants to let everyone know of the upcoming changes and fix that he has in plan. me and jongho will be away, but yunho and the rest of the guards will stay in the castle with the queen, the princess, and you."
"and how long are you guys going to be gone?"
hongjoong shrugs. "really depends. it could be a week, it could be more than that. traveling down to the fifth and coming back up here is gonna be a while. but as quick as possible, i hope."
"okay..." you frown. "just, stay safe."
you care for their safety and wellbeings more than anything. all three people of whom you're most familiar with, going off and risking their lives again. you're going to feel a certain type of way about it.
but they're doing it for a good cause. for the nation. for everyone. and so you allow to put your heart at rest just a little bit.
"don't worry. aurora brought some protections as well, and if we can convince the second district now overrun by outlaws, the rest of them should be easy."
hongjoong leaves after some last words of encouragment, and him wishing you a fast healing process.
later that night, they all left for the lower districts as stated.
--
the castle grows increasingly quiet, all ruckus from before now dwindled down to almost nothing.
the guards are usually busy patrolling outside, even more now that the prince is out, and the only people that seems to actually be around are the queen and princess.
the princess is the one to bring your meals, and you feel awful about the fact when it should be the other way around.
but she is wonderful. soft-spoken, elegant in her manners, and always with a smile on her face although you know it's not easy for anyone, especially what she's going through.
she bears almost no resemblance to san, but there's still some tell-tale features, like their eyes. the same foxy and slanted characteristic trademark on both siblings that looks so mellow on the princess, but entirely menacing on the prince.
"your tea."
the soft call of her voice would get you up from bed immediately, scooting over to thank her as you two meet eyes.
once you start feeling a lot better, able to stand on your feet and support yourself fully, you stroll the garden with the princess as she reminisce about everything crossing both of your path.
"i, too, wanted to be trained in weapons and self defense, but father said it wasn't suitable for someone like me. he would always take me out to the garden instead, in hope i'd develop a liking for it just so he didn't have to deal with the persistence. and i did... i did blossomed a love for gardening."
you scowl at the revelation.
"well, that's not right."
"it's not, but it was my father's order. he was a stubborn man and didn't like to listen to anyone. i wish i could say i saw anything else for father's ending."
both the prince and princess seems to share a mutual feeling regarding the father figure. though they understand the deeply flawed king, it's hard and conflicting when it's your own father.
"brother taught me what he could, which wasn't always possible because father was always around. but san is a good person... despite the amount of pressure father put on him, i believe he would be a great king. better than father himself."
a smile cross your lips at the mention of san.
"i believe he would be a great king, too," you add. you know he will be, and you wish for nothing more than all his dreams to come true.
"brother san seems to have taken a great liking to you," the princess brings up, recalling the signs and body language of her younger brother when he was with you despite your sleeping state and lack of awareness.
an act of affection and fondness she has never seen the prince give anyone before. not even the noble daughters that would show for events.
"oh, no," you deny, shaking your head, but the way your stomach swoops at the statement is real.
"why not?" she tilts her head, a brow raising. "do you not like him?"
"no--i mean, i do. i like the prince as a friend, but anything more than that would be innappropriate, i think." your volume tapers and your eyes shy away from hers, but the soft giggle makes you snap back.
"love is a beautiful thing. you shouldn't run from it, no matter the class difference or adversities. i know my brother wouldn't."
she smiles and pat your shoulder, abruptly taking your hand and leading the way out of the garden.
"so tell me, did you know that the kingdom didn't used to be divided into districts?"
you hum from behind, "actually, i do. i read it in an old history book i found back at the orphanage."
the kingdom used to just be utopia as a whole. no divisions of anything or labels to anyone. but when the capital found out they could cheat the system and hog all resources and supplies by dividing up the nation, the district system was implemented.
and those who lived furthest from the capital suffered the worst due to change, which was why the fifth district, a once fine ground for fishermen and access to the sea, declined overtime due to the lack of available care.
"yes," she mumbles, letting go of your hand and turning around, your feet screeching with the sudden stop. "brother wishes to abolish the system, after mostly everything gets taken care of, of course. by then, none of this 'social class' would matter as much."
you know she means it from the good of her heart; soul just as kind as her brother, but it is not only the struggle of being a fifth district kid, but also the reality of being a no one as compared to a prince.
--
you get accustomed to the newer routine, waking up the crack of dawn to go help the princess prepare breakfast the best your healing body can. just the smallest, throbbing pinch still there when you sit up, but you're fine nonetheless.
the morning when the sun hasn't even shown its head yet, your body still tired and mind hazy, the opening of the door gets a silent groan out of you as you turn to the source expecting the princess to have something for you so early.
but the sight jolts you from sleep, and you know that it's him, even in the faintest lighting.
"good morning," his voice like velvet has you sitting up, your gaze trained on him the entire time he goes to take a seat at the stool.
"good morning, prince," you return, the smallest amount of joy hiding in your delivery because you really are so happy to see him again.
he went back to the princely attire coloured in white, and his hair a slicked back kind that makes him so handsome, although some strands are loose and slightly messy from the many days gone by.
"san," he corrects you, the sound of his actual name so much better when you say it.
"san," you repeat, a short giggle after that he joins along. "so you're back already. how did it go?"
your expression changing to stern that instant, if you stare at him any longer, you might just burn a hole from how serious you are.
"a lot better than i expected," he answers, a thin smile on as he scoots closer. "i really owe it to the king and prince of aurora. if they hadn't took pity in me, i don't know what else i would've done. but for some reason, they chose to believe in me, and i really am so grateful for that."
he must've been so scared but unwilling to show it. unwilling to give away the fear that the kingdom in his hand is so close to crumbling down by a mere inch, everything could fall apart just like that.
but he had to persist through the hardships and doubts; masking any weaknesses because it would scare away the people if he did. if the ruler of the kingdom itself barely has any faith in the situation.
you reach for his hand, the stronge urge to comfort him as the soft look on you melt into his.
"san, they believe in you because they can see that you're capable. and i believe as well, that you from now on, you will make utopia a better place for the people."
he thinks that you always have such a way with words; how they always make him feel so warm and at ease every time. it's never felt so easy with anyone before.
"y/n," he calls almost in a whisper, taking his hands out of your grasp to now enclose yours. "i apologize for not visiting you. but as soon as i returned and had cleared everyhing with the royals of aurora, i came to you immediately."
"no. it's okay. you have a duty as the prince of the nation, i totally understand. there's no need to apologize."
you can feel his grip on you getting tighter, his eyes a type of desperate but also affectionate.
"but still, you saved my life. you traded yours for mine. to me, you're just as important."
you're surprise by the confession, an array of butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach and you can see the prince growing more tense, but nonetheless, he persists.
"before i go any further, can i ask you one question first?"
you nod at that. "go ahead."
"you and jongho..." he starts, only to thin out before trying again, "are you guys... dating? or, well, do you like him?"
he's nervous and if he wasn't holding you, he would probably start fidgeting to hide the fact.
"me and jongho?" you quirk an eyebrow, failing to hold back the snicker from the thought while the prince just stares dumbfoundedly.
"i love jongho, but he's more like family than anything. we've been through a lot together but i can't see him in that light."
you've given similar answers out a couple times, especially to the other servants who thought you both had a crush on each other.
the prince's chest drop in relief and you can't hide the amusement you get from it.
"what? you thought me and jongho had something?" you can't stop giggling.
"well, i just had to make sure," he says, a hint of embarrassed and shy that is incredibly cute.
he wouldn't tell you that the one time he actually decided to come in the midst of everything, jongho was already by your side and if you didn't look so happy, he wouldn't have went back because he could tell jongho is someone special to you.
"so?" you await what he has to say, the eagerness only making him more nervous.
the grip on you loosening up to a more softer but more intimate one, one of his thumb running over your hand before he speaks.
"i know this might be too sudden and we haven't known each other for long, but, if your heart isn't taken by anyone, i'd like to ask for a vow."
you just stare ahead and wait for him to finish the sentence, your heart beating exceptionally loud.
"i understand it's a bit abrupt, but... i-i've never felt this way with anybody else. there's something special when i'm you, and i'd like to ask for a vow; a promise that we'll reserve our hearts for each other."
he's so scared, willing to take the chance at first because he will regret it if he doesn't. but now, he's afraid he might've ruined whatever he had with you in the first place, retracting immediately when there's only silence from you.
"but it's not an obligation. you don't have to. i'm just--"
"--i would love to," you cut, watching the panic on his face dissipate that instant.
"really?"
"yes. i would love to," you assure once again, the thinnest smile crossing your lips that soon turns bigger when he returns one.
he's absolutely over the moon to know the feeling is mutual; that what he felt and got from the time together wasn't just because you were compelled to treat him equal to his title.
that something more came out of it.
"but..." you mumble, the smile fading when reality sets in again. "is this going to be okay? you're a prince, and i'm just... me."
"of course it's going to be okay. i don't care who or what you are," he comforts, delivery incredibly passionate, you can't fight it. "but more importantly, before you give me your words once and for all, i need to know if you'll be okay with the conditions first. you can be honest. i won't be upset because i would never try to hold you back regarding anything."
"i'm listening," you acknowledge.
"the citizens of utopia have decided to give me a chance. that chance is not only to salvage the nation, but to also prove to them that i'm capable of leading and won't repeat the same mistakes those who came before we did. i don't know how long it's going to take; specifically how many years. but i will crack down on any remaining harmful outlaw members, i will be traveling in and out of the kingdom a lot, and i will be working on making this nation a better place for everyone. that is something i promised to do, and i will do just that."
he takes a deep breath and start again, eyes on yours. "so if you don't want to wait, i won't hold it against you. if there's things or someone better out there waiting for you, you don't have to accept my proposal. but just if you do... if you're willing to wait for me, once the nation is in a stable state and i don't have to stress too much about being all over the place, i promise then, that i will ask for your hand in marriage."
the bold declaration does take you by surprise, hard to grasp that the prince of all people would want to marry you.
"i know it's a lot to take in," he says, "but you don't have to give me an answer now. whenever you're ready."
you shake your head.
"no--i mean, i would love to. no matter how long i have to wait, i think it'll be worth it. after all, the nation is your priority and the people needs you."
he's taken aback by how fast you made up your mind, but overjoy that you want it just as much as he does. he can't be any happier.
"you're sure you want to do this?" he asks again just to be sure, but crossing his fingers you don't just so happen to change your mind.
you nod earnestly.
"i'm sure. besides, i doubt any guy would ever be interested in me let alone want to get married."
he chuckles, a sound you can to listen all day.
"even if they are, they can't get you now. so i don't want to see any of them trying to woo you or something. and you can't give in because you already gave me your words."
it's your turn to laugh, the jealousy endearing on him.
"well how would i know you'll keep your words, too? what if i wait and wait until i'm a grandma with grey hair only for you to take it back? marry someone else instead and say you don't want me anymore?" you tease.
"tskk," he sneer, "that won't happen, because i would never promise anything i knew i couldn't do. so you don't have to worry."
a reassuring smile spreads across his lips as so does yours, seconds passing by when the silence consumes the room and the both of you just stare at each other, completely smitten.
you notice the slightly fallen strands covering his eyes, going to move it with your finger but your hand stopping at his cheek after, a staring contest ensuing before something comes over you, leaning over to deliver a kiss to his other cheek.
when you pull back, the shy and flustered reaction of the prince brings another giggle out from you.
"i believe you, then. go and show everyone that they made the right choice in giving you a chance. go and make the nation a better place for the citizens. no matter how long, when you come back, i'll be right here... for you."
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age 20:
you're twenty years old when the district system is abolished, and when you're nearing twenty-one, it will have been a year since you've spoken to the prince, and will be a few months that you've last seen jongho.
he had been given an opportunity to stay at the castle as one of the prince's permanent companions and took it.
as for you, you moved back to what used to be the fifth district, your heart and soul still full of regard for the place no matter how far you run because every last memory of your parents are rooted here.
you didn't want and couldn't ask for anything in return for the loyalty to the royal family during their toughest time, only taking the coins they had kindly insisted on giving and proceeded to find somewhere to settle. make a life for yourself.
the first few months after declaration of adjustments were as tough for anyone else as it was for you. no matter how positive of an effect, changes are always difficult.
the nobles having to reclaim their homes again after migrating from fear of the outlaws; the party finally retreating, and the former having to piece everything back together with the thought in mind that everything won't be the same, but it will be fair.
the lower districts benefitting the most from the changes but time is their biggest adversary, because though good things are coming, they're not going to come in an instant. having to wait days, months, years, for the full glory to show can be defeating.
but nevertheless, it's coming, and tomorrow will be better than yesterday and so forth. a year later and you can already notice the difference, especially the sea that once gave up on the nation ready to ripple once more.
where you're currently at, you couldn't have done it without the help of those around you. hongjoong who gave you full rights to his hideout in the fifth district because he won't have the use for it anymore, having also been promoted to work alongside the prince.
and with the coins the royal family gave you, you put it into materials to hone the skill you're best at, now finally making a living off sewing and embroidery.
over the year, you've renovated the small shack to your liking with the knowledge you carried from your father, building something for yourself you can call home.
you can still recall that feeling; the first sinking realization of being alone and the taste of freedom. you no longer belonged to somebody or owed anything to anyone. no longer the poor kid just waiting for a better life.
you were your own person, and it feels amazing to be free, though you think it would be even better if he was there.
the thought of him crossing your mind every couple of days, wishing for nothing but only the best for him, hopeful that one day, he will return to fulfill the promise.
"those are some fine handkerchiefs you have there," a young man's voice stops you, spinning around to greet him with a smile.
"you crafted them yourself?" he asks, his tone a type of mischievious that you don't even read into.
"yes," you simply reply, always putting on your best behavior when there's a possible customer. "would you like to take a look at them for yourself?"
"i'd love to."
you untangle the basket from your arm and start going through the many fabrics of your creation.
"wow. not only is the creator herself beautiful, but so are the creations. i've never seen these kind of patterns before," he comments, a smirk on that is both amused and flirty, you can't help the way your cheeks immediately reddens.
the man only seems to find the sight even more endearing as a snicker bubbles out of him while you're still just standing there because you've never met someone so shameless before.
you're about to say something when an arm is thrown around your shoulders instead, turning to the source and your body an immediate mix of relieved, joy, and a skipping heartbeat.
"san..." you say by natural instinct, his unreadable expression meeting yours before moving to the young man in front.
"i'm sorry, i told her to not go wandering by herself but she wouldn't listen. let's go back, honey."
he snatches the basket out of your hold with his other hand and hauls you back the other way.
"i've only been gone for a year and you're already flirting with another man?" he accuses once you're able to flee from his clutch, his steps following right behind you as a pout overtakes his face.
"i wasn't flirting. i was trying to make money," you weakly defend, focus on the path back to your place that you believe the word 'cottage' would be more fitting for.
"you're way too beautiful and talented to be out there spending your days talking to young men."
"pfft," you blow, "and you're way too handsome and princely to be traveling everywhere and going to other kingdoms in the presence of other noble and royal daughters."
"and i'd still choose you, baby."
your heels dig the dirt flooring, snapping around from the pet name, a laughter at the verge of coming out.
san can see the amusement on your face, only smirking in response.
"what? i know you like being called that."
this time, you really do laugh and he follows right after, absolutely in love with everything about you. whether that's snarking back or laughing at him.
"whatever you say, prince," you poke more fun at him before dragging him by the wrist into your place.
"cute what you've done," he pass a comment while you put the basket away.
"yes. and i have just about everything i need."
it's just a little bigger than the hideout back at what used to be the third district, but it has the same convenience in that it's close to the river, cutting out trips to the bathhouse which saves a lot of time.
he nods, the dimpled smile never leaving his face.
"so... what brings you here?" you eventually ask, sitting next to him on your bed, the atmosphere shifting because despite enjoying the banter and mischief of it all, you miss him and haven't seen him in over a year.
"we just returned and arrived at the port this morning, so i wanted to come visit and see how you're doing. you know, to make sure no one was trying to sweep you off by your feet."
you playfully land a slap to his shoulder, snickering.
"you're ridiculous. all year long and my love life is so dry, but the one day someone acknowledges me, you just have to come back," you reply with sarcasm.
"i'm sorry to ruin that for you, but you can't take it back. you promised to marry me, and i will make sure every guy in the kingdom knows that."
you remember the first time meeting san, his state of grief making him almost an entirely different person. quiet, stoic, and always in distress, it's the most wonderful surprise that he's actually a child at heart.
able to let loose once in a while and just have fun.
"no need to. you won't have any competitions at all."
he chuckles quietly at that and closes any remaining distance between you two.
"you speak too lowly of yourself when you're the most beautiful girl i've ever seen."
you bat your eyelashes, shying away from his gaze. you just blush way too easy.
he chuckles at the sight and moves the subject along, "but i also came because i have good news. the king and prince mingi of dune have agreed to a treaty."
"really? t-that's great!" you stumble your wording, beyond happy for him because this was everything he wanted and planned for.
"yeah. it wasn't easy but the fact we have aurora did most of the convincing. dune was... interesting to say the least," he says, briefly recalling the month he spent at the kingdom.
"you did it, though" you smile. "it's only going to get better from now on."
"i hope so. but it seems the real challenge just began. this place is going to need a lot of work."
"that, it is. but for now, you just need to relax. rest a little and eat if you already haven't. i can make you some soup, would you like that?"
he nods.
"i would love that."
he loves how comfortale and easy it is with you. when the weight on his shoulders gets too heavy, he can always rely on you to make it better, even if just for a bit.
--
"so where do i sleep?" he asks, walking back in after washing himself by the river with the towel you gave him.
the day had been nothing short of a dream, eating and cleaning together and just small exchanges that multiplies the butterflies in your stomach.
you wish everyday was like this.
"the floor," you joke, the response making him scowl.
"i'm carrying the nation on my back and you're gonna make me sleep on the floor?" he throws the towel over his shoulder, his wet strands of hair swaying along with his movements.
"that bed looks big enough for the two of us." he points with his chin. "besides, we're gonna get married anyways."
you roll your eyes, snatching the towel from him as you go to ruffle his wet hair with it, his shout of protests underneath coming out muffled.
"fine." you land the fabric back around his neck, crawling into bed and scooting to the wall to make space.
he lays down and faces you, your gaze burning into each other's when he cranks out a smile.
"i'll be leaving in the morning and you might not see me again for a while after. don't you think you should give me something to remember you by?"
your brows furrow, your mind jumping to conclusion considering the position you guys are in and the tone in which he said it.
"i'm not gonna have sex with you," you spit, prompting the loudest laughter ever from him, followed by confusion from you.
"no, of course not. i was talking about another of your handkerchiefs."
"oh..." you murmur, feeling embarrassed.
"not until we get married at least. then, we can do it," he states with confidence, the thought of taking you to bed and inserting control another way is tempting, and he can't wait for the day.
you smack his chest lightly, as flustered as you are, you can't help the giggle that slips out.
a few seconds of silence pass by before he starts moving closer, his breath ghosting your skin and finger going to caress your cheek.
"i really do want to kiss you right now, though," he confess, "if that's okay with you."
you nod as much as your pillowed head allows you to.
"that's okay with me."
you close your eyes shut, trying to keep from flinching as you await his kiss, moments later only for his lips to crash against yours, his hand moving to your jaw and his body pressing forward as the kiss deepens.
you kiss him like it's the last kiss between you and him; like your life depends on it, the bed creaking under as he takes it upon himself to connect your bodies.
he pulls back much to your disappointment, both of your chests heaving and trying to catch your breath, his forehead bumped with yours and tip of his nose brushing your own.
"good enough," he speaks, his breath still not yet returned, "any more than this and i might not be able to contain myself."
you giggle, placing a soft peck on his cheek, flashing one last smile.
"goodnight, prince."
--
"have a safe trip, and take care of yourself," you bless, blue in your heart as san makes his way back to you after speaking to the coachman.
all the laughters and butterflies of yesterday won't be experienced again until who knows how long. he will be away after this, and you will miss him dearly.
you wish he could stay but you know he can't. he has something bigger and better to worry about.
he stops before you, melancholy in his eyes as well. he doesn't want to leave you but he has to. and as much as he wants to take you along, he can't let you bear the same responsibilities and weight.
he wants for you to be there, when he already made everything better.
"you take care of yourself, too." his hands naturally finding itself cupping your cheeks. "don't overwork yourself."
"i won't."
you place your own hands over his, desperate to salvage his touch for one last time.
"when can i expect to see you again?" you ask.
"i don't have a definite answer, but i'll be back. i promise."
you two share one last kiss before you watch him go off, blue still in your heart, but you know that someday, he'll come back, and it will be to stay.
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age 23:
you're twenty-three years old when there's a knock at the door one suspicious morning.
living in the middle of nowhere, and even over the years, you're only able to count on one hand the range of selection there is when it comes to who it could be.
"hongjoong?" you squint, the man you haven't seen in forever looking slightly more buffed; mature, his hair styled and attire new and shiny.
"great seeing you again," he greets, still on horseback and glancing down at you.
"would you like to come inside? for some tea or a drink?" you ask, figuring it's only proper etiquette you do.
"i'm good. i only came to deliver something."
you continue squinting, one hand shielding your eyes from the early sun, reaching out when hongjoong hands you a letter and unfolding it.
"an invitation from the prince?" you read, incredulity as you shoot up to look at him.
"yes. the prince is finally accepting his accession to king and the coronation will be held a week from now. that is all i have for today. i have to head back soon."
you have so many more questions but hongjoong already turns his back before you can ask them, settling for staring at the ink in awe when the sound of his voice picks your head up again.
"i hope to see you there. the prince will be expecting you."
--
you leave for the capital the following day, packing only essentials and enough coins, taking along pearl, the white horse you had purchased a year back for traveling purposes.
there's been a lot changes in the four years since san took the reign, all of them for the better, of course.
some of the homes have been revamped, some new ones added, and everywhere you passed, there are greens and beauty in each sceneries.
the citizens look happier, kids a lot less miserable and even those in the orphanages are coming around to the new implements along with those in progress to solve overcrowding.
members of the outlaws have dwindled over time and quieted.
for the first time in hundreds of years, utopia is able to live up to its name in some form; a place of ideal perfection.
so you couldn't fret too much; be upset that in the three years that have passed, san's only visited you once. because if it wasn't for him, the nation wouldn't have been able to achieve the current state.
you travel to the capital with hope, expectation, and excitement at the fact you will be seeing him again; a strong belief that everything will feel just the same as last time.
you stop at inns to rest when the nights fall and start again at dawn, reaching the destination in five days total, the day before san's coronation.
there isn't any difference to the castle, not even a bit. a touch of nostalgia hitting you when thinking back to the event four years ago.
entrance is easy to get through, showing both of the guards who seems to recognize you, the letter.
tying your horse to the nearest tree, you proceed to the door with a pounding heart, banging on it twice before the castle door creaks from the other side, absolutely no idea who the person could be.
"y/n!"
your eyes widen at the sight, that nervousness replaced by delight.
"jongho!"
before he can get another word out, you're already in his arms, the warmth of your best friend something you missed greatly in the full year you haven't seen him.
you can him hear giggling in your hair, pulling away to that goofy smile of his as one settles on your lips as well.
"you came," he simply says.
"of course i did."
jongho takes you inside, your nosy eyes wandering the interior that's also the same as before but still dazzling with all its history, cracks in some of the wall, and antiques.
you greet the queen and the princess who only gets more beautiful by the years, them welcoming you with warm smiles and you can tell immediately the new changes other than their appearances.
they sound happier; no other burdens or weight pulling them down, carrying it around like a haunting that won't go away.
you walk around the courtyard with jongho after, finally a time and place to catch up. all those time of being with each other, you didn't think you could survive if he wasn't by your side, but to have gone four long years only seeing him once in a blue moon, you'd say that's some character development.
"how are things here for you?" you ask him, walking alongside shoulder to shoulder.
"amazing," he answers almost instantly, "it's crazy. i never thought i'd get the chance to work in the capital, but the royal family's castle? with the prince? it's everything i've ever wanted."
you can't stop smiling, his tone telling of just how much he means what he just said.
"that's great. i'm happy for you. you did always say you wanted all those training to go into something."
he nods.
"and you? how are things down there?"
"much better. it's coming together. the people's the most tame i've ever seen them."
jongho hums in acknowledgement.
"i heard you're going to become queen," he suddenly brings up, and you almost choke in return.
"and who the hell said that?"
"--i did."
the familiar voice that isn't jongho makes the both of you turn around, your stomach dropping and heart palpitating because you know all too well who it belongs to.
you can only stare breathless as he takes a step closer, your throat dry.
he's just as mesmerizing as you remember but like hongjoong, time have passed and he has gotten more bulky, manly, and handsome if that's even possible.
"i'm glad to see you can come," he mumbles, a charming smile on that render your knees weak.
jongho clears his throat, attempting to hide a smirk as he goes to excuse himself politely and walks back inside, leaving you stranded in the presence of san.
everything still feels the same with him.
"yeah. i got the letter," you reply, glancing around the empty area, "though it seems i might have gotten a tad excited."
he snickers, and oh... how you have missed the sound.
"you're the only one i gave a personal invitation to," he unveils.
"oh." your eyes swell, only to break the tension after. "then i guess i'm special."
"you are," he assures, closing the distance and taking one of your hand. "i have promised you that once utopia is stable enough, i will ask for your hand in marriage."
you watch as he goes to pull something out of the pocket of his suit, one of his knees pointed to the ground, his entire body falling with it.
"and now that i've finally reached that goal... y/n, will you marry me?"
it takes a moment for you to process everything, overwhelmed with joy and happiness before you can properly nod.
"yes. of course."
and he will marry you, after the rise to king and acceptance of his title as the ruler of utopia, keeping the promise just as he did to every others.
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permanent taglist: @moonchele
a/n: not me talking shit abt wanting broken era to be over only to go & write a 19k oneshot. but i loved writing this & had a lot of fun bc it was v different from what i'd usually write
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probablyjustturtle · 5 months
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I would absolutely love it is DreamWorks would do a special focused on Branch trying to propose to Poppy.
Here I'll write the plot for you. It's long brace yourself.
I imagine this takes place like 6 months or so after Band Together.
Life after TBT is going well.
Branch cleared out some rooms for his brothers to stay in when they need it. Floyd is somewhat of a permanent resident, anxious about leaving Branch to live on his own again.
John Dory built a garage of sorts near Branch's bunker for Rhonda so she has a cozy shelter to relax in. JD switches between sleeping with Rhonda and sleeping in Branch's bunker.
Clay built a pod between Viva and Poppy's and the bunker.
Bruce visits every now and then, understandably, he has like 13 kids. When he does come into town they brothers all stay in Branch's bunker to hang out and have bro time.
Floyd notices Branch being extra anxious for some reason. He can't figure out why and whenever he asks Branch, Branch always deflects the conversation away. So Floyd naturally got really worried. After the Branch told them everything that happened in the past 20 years, he was worried there was something else he was keeping from his brothers.
Floyd went to JD and Clay asking if they've noticed something's up. Viva (she was hanging around Clay's pod and inserted herself into the conversation) mentions that she's noticed Branch has been nervous around Poppy lately.
That's weird? Why would he be nervous around his girlfriend and best friend?
They decided to bring it up to Branch. Of course, they do not get a straight answer, he acts defensive, deflecting the conversation and fidgeting with something behind his back before running away.
The brothers assume the worst. The next time Bruce comes into town he's debriefed on what's going on with their little brother. They come to the conclusion that Branch needs a break from Poppy but he's too nice to tell her that himself, they decide to 'help' him.
Branch and Poppy are sitting in a clearing on a romantic picnic. Having their usual conversations, Branch looks like he gets the courage to tell Poppy something, but before he can, JD jumps in, claiming Bruce set the kitchen on fire again, he grabs Branch and pulls him away from the picnic.
Over the course of the week, this happens with each brother.
Stargazing in a tree? Clay lectures them about the dangers of sitting so high above the ground.
Taking a nice walk through the forest by the river? Bruce brought pictures of his kids he wants to show you!
Candle lit dinner in the bunker? Floyd found a family album in Grandma's old pod, who wants to see baby pictures of everyone?
Branch finally decided his brothers are a problem. Every night he's been formulating 'perfect plans' to propose to Poppy. Each one ruined by his brothers. There's no telling which one will show up so he decides to ensure they are all busy when he takes Poppy on a date.
He even went as far as taking Rhonda out for a walk after the rain and let her roll around in mud.
John Dory was busy giving Rhonda a bath, Clay was asked to look over all the safety features on Branch's security system and looking for improvements, Floyd was asked to take over storytime with the young trolls for Poppy, and Bruce was asked to help organize one of the common troll parties with the snack pack. They were all busy. Perfect.
Branch decided to take Poppy out for another stroll, this was the one. The weather was pleasant, not too hot, not too chilly. Perfect. His brothers were occupied, their friends were occupied. It was just him and his soon-to-be fiance. The one thing he didn't account for?
Viva.
Viva found them, grabbing Poppy and shouting about a new juice stand that just popped up and that she would just die if she couldn't try it with her dear sister. And Branch was left alone. His girlfriend shouted an apology over her shoulder as she was dragged away by her sister.
His brothers returned to the bunker after all their activities to find Branch nowhere to be seen. They called for him and split up to look around the bunker for their brother.
Floyd found him in a small backroom near his bedroom, slumped over a writing desk, head on his arm, staring at something in his other paw. All around the desk and on the floor lay many crumpled papers. Some in balls, some haphazardly thrown near the trash can. But all over. Floyd picked one up. A messy on of the plans his brother was famous for making was drawn on the page. Floyd picked up another, the same subject on the page but different method. Floyd finally pieced everything together. He called to his younger brother. Branch picked his head up with a sniffle, tear tracks clear on his face and in his paw, a ring box. An engagement ring box.
Floyd looked sadly at his brother before walking over and hugging him. Branch resting his head into his brother's shoulder. Letting himself cry a bit more.
(next bit is a bit of dialogue I had in mind for this scene)
"Floyd, did you find him?!" They heard Bruce call from down the hall just as his face appeared in the doorway. "He's in here guys!" He called to his other brothers. His smile quickly fell as he looked at the state of the room and his younger brother. His gaze softens as he makes his way over to Branch and Floyd.
"Branch!" Shouted Clay and John Dory at seeing the troll they were looking for, before they had the same reaction to seeing their brother's state.
Bruce was the first to kneel to look Branch in the eyes. "What happened B?" He asked in his most comforting voice, the one he used when his own kids were upset.
Branch picked his head up and looked at all his older brothers. With a sniff he decided to just tell them what he was trying to avoid telling them all week.
"all week I've been trying to... Propose to Poppy." He said with a croak, his voice tight from crying. That's when they noticed the open ring box in Branch's paws.
That's when they all realized they fucked up.
"all week I've made plan after plan," Branch continued, oblivious to his brothers staring at eachother silently saying "oh shit." To one another. "so that we could have a moment together where I could get to tell her, but I never got a chance. We always got interrupted, at first it was you guys so I made sure you all were busy, sorry by the way, and just to be safe I made sure our friends were busy. It was going so well. But then Viva dragged her off before I could ask her."
The brothers sat in silence while their brother looked at the floor. They had messed up with him, again. Floyd was the first to speak.
"Branch, we're sorry." He began. "Don't be sorry, it's not your guys' fault. I didn't exactly tell you what I was trying to do."
"Well..."
That's when his older brothers decided to come clean. They told him what was going through their heads, how stupid it was of them to try to force his brother and his girlfriend to have some time apart. Branch was and at first but realized they had good intentions.
Branch seemed to loose hope, even stating "maybe its just not meant to be." Before his brothers immediately shut down that train of thought.
They decided to help Branch the proposal. They owed him that at least.
The next evening just after sunset, Branch stood confused outside Poppy's pod. Dressed nicer than his everyday attire, as per Floyd's instruction. Poppy also dressed up a bit more as well, Viva said it was a good idea.
Branch took Poppy down to the clearing he had originally planned to propose in. All he knew was that his brothers told him to bring Poppy here and to bring the ring.
The clearing was beautiful. The moon and stars provided a stunning ceiling, fairy lights decorated the perimeter and off to the side stood his brothers. With acoustic instruments. In the middle of the clearing lay a circle of flowers.
Branch smiled at his brothers. They did a wonderful job. But this was just the beginning.
Bruce and Floyd began the intro while Clay took the lead.
(I'm imagining them singing Fly Love by Jamie Foxx, Floyd on guitar, Bruce whistling and doing the bongos, JD has the tambourine, Clay has the vocal while the others do subtle backups. There's room for them to have their whole scene of setting this all up, Bruce saying "Trust me. I'm the one that's married here, I know romance." And Clay being nervous about taking the lead solo for his youngest brother's engagement, because he isn't used to emotional ballads but Floyd reassures him he'll be fine. Etc.)
Poppy took this cue to ask for Branch's hand, leading them to the circle where they began to slow dance. Enjoying the conversation about the atmosphere, the stars in each other's eyes. Half way through the song Viva released the fireflies. Making the moment even more magical.
Branch looked to his brothers. In return they smiled at him with pride and adoration. Bruce gave him a nod, urging him to take charge.
Branch confessed his feelings and vows, got down on one knee and held up the ring. Anxious for her answer. To which she responded with excited squealing and immediate 'yes's over and over. Kissing her now fiance.
So yeah, lmk what you think, if you use this idea for a fanfic or comic or smthn give me some credit. I flexed my scene writing brain for this post.
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anemonelovesfiction · 5 months
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Kinktober 12- Fingering
Ao’nung x Human Fem Reader
Warnings ⚠️: The title gives it away, soulmate AU (matching tattoo’s)
Honestly just happy you guys enjoy my writing ❤️ thank you for your likes, comments, and reblogs, they make me incredibly happy and I look forward to seeing them☺️
I can’t remember if I proofread it but don’t be afraid to call out any mistakes :)
Word Count: 2.1K
I was born on Pandora like the rest of the kids here, scientists got horny and decided to have children, there was no effective birth control they could create and a new generation of humans had been born. Spider was the first of us, I was the second, and with us being born came a new wave of soulmate tattoo’s permanently imbedded in all our wrists. Something so special to the Na’Vi had started showing up on all of us, meaning the all mother must have had special plans for us or even saw us as her children.
I have no idea if Neytiri’s tattoo of Jake’s name had been in English or in Na’vi and at this point, knowing how she had been toward Spider, I had been afraid to ask but I couldn’t help and wonder if this had been something she often kept covered as a teenager, believing she had been rejected by the all mother due to the incomprehensible symbols on her wrist, and therefore believing she did not having a soulmate?
They did, however, keep their children’s wrists covered from the moment of their birth up until the moment they passed their iknimaya. Sure every kid had their curiosity and peeked under the band, but the name had been something kept a secret, some parents wouldn’t even take a look as they did not want to influence themselves to play matchmaker with their friends, it had been something they took seriously, a blessing from Eywa that their perfect match had been out there.
To be completely honest I hadn’t even known they wrote things down, or that they had a written vocabulary as they often spoke of their history, used the song chord to keep track of their lives, it wasn’t new to me that the tattoo on either wrist meant it was the name of your soulmate. Had this meant that the letters of my name littered themselves across a Na’vi’s wrist in English, or was it written in their language so they could understand it, did that specific Na’vi think they had been cursed had the letters been in symbols they had yet to understand? I’d purposely avoided wanting anything to do with learning the Na’vi written language due to the fear of rejection, had the specific person known it was their name they could decide what my fate would be.
There were three options. They could reject me flat out and reveal themselves as my soulmate, they could ignore me completely without having told me a thing and I’d die alone, and the highly unlikely scenario in which they’d want to have me for themselves and actually go through with being with me their entire lives. But all of that had been thrown out the window the moment Spider and I had been captured by his reincarnated father- which threw the both of us in a loop after he’d shared who he was- all of that shit had been left field, and we’d finally ended up with the Metkayina.
Due to suffeirng from foot-in-fucking-mouth disease, Lo’ak had blurted out to the people they often hung out with, that I could not read in Na’Vi, and that my soulmate was also Na’Vi. I had been given a bracelet, decorated with traditional Omatikaya colors and pattern, that I had yet to take off of my wrist from the moment Neteyam had made one for me, knowing I would want nothing more than to hide it. Even if Tuk had been young, she’d known how sensitive the topic was for me, and slapped the back of Lo’ak’s head from being a loud mouthed bitch- her words, not mine.
I’d kept a close eye on the bracelet he’d made me and assured it was tied around my wrist as tightly as possible, while allowing room for circulation, which was tricky considering riding on an Ilu- especially with Lo’ak or Neteyam, that shit loosened up every time. But with my close observation it remained intact and on my wrist, effectively covering my tattoo.
Until we’d all been huddled around the cook fire, the same group of people who hung out together sitting closely to one another, Kiri’s gasp breaking us all out of the concentration we’d all been in while listening to one of the guys talking about whatever it was they felt like sharing. All eyes had followed hers and like every other time, I’d been the last one to follow what they’d been doing, noticing my wrist had been handing something to her, vulnerably showing everyone what my tattoo had said, my eyes widened as I immediately look on the sand to find my bracelet and feeling my arm being tugged in another direction.
_________
Big hands had currently been forcing my thighs to stay open even while I attempted to shut them on his face, I’d been feeling overstimulated at the moment but his tongue continued to dance around my clit as if it had choreographed an entire show, I was on the verge of yet another orgasm and weakly attempted to push his forehead away, all while my hips pushed closer to him. I suck in a breath and throw my head back in frustration at my failed attempt, the coil in my stomach had tightened even more and I knew I was closer to release, a chuckle coming out of the mouth of the bastard who was currently eating me out.
“Ao’nung!” I whisper-yelled at the teal man below me, another quiet moan slips past my lips without wanting to, compelled to stop fighting as soon as his eyes shoot up through his thick lashes to meet mine, my knee’s growing weak at the sight. I couldn’t see his mouth as he was keeping it busy, but from the look in his eyes I could tell he had been smirking, feeling his fingers prod at my entrance, not bothering to tease any longer and sliding them in. I’d had two orgasms previous and the third one was right at the cusp, his fingers working diligently, he was insatiable at this moment and seemed to be doing what he wanted- not that I could complain as my hips buck upward to meet the teasing thrusts of his fingers.
I could feel the coil in my lower belly just about to give in, but his mouth detaches from my already soaked cunt, biting his lip as he focuses on his fingers being swallowed, and yet all I could do was attempt to wiggle my hips further, upset at his fingers retracting. Another whine had built itself in my throat and I look down to see him looking through his lashes and into the depths of my soul, completely forgetting he’d attached his kuru to the base of my skull and that he could feel everything I was feeling at the moment. I clench around his fingers subconsciously at the thought of how close we were at this time, his eyes were hazed with lust and longing, I could only imagine what my face looked like.
“You look gorgeous on my fingers, yawntu.” In the time I’d gotten lost staring at his eyes, he’d managed to meet my face with his own, his fingers working me closer to the edge without allowing me the satisfaction of coming, fingers pushing up against a specific spot and I could feel the waves of euphoria getting stronger, but not enough to crash over me. I grunt right as his lips meet mine and effectively muting the sound, feeling his opposite hand lightly pushing my thigh apart as his other continued its ministrations.
“Don’t stop-“ I’d grunted as his thrusts pick up their speed, my eyes closing on instinct as I bite my lip to keep from making too much noise, marui’s were considered their homes, but nobody had to tell me it was obvious you could hear every sound -there are gaping holes everywhere- I didn’t need to be the one human ruining it for everyone. My own gasp brings me back to the present feeling his fingers pushing harder, he’d been squatting on his toes while attempting a third orgasm out of me -which wasn’t that far behind- but from the angle I was at I could see he was hard under his loincloth, but he’d been too busy focusing on my cunt to care about himself, and who was I to mess with his concentration?
I’d wanted nothing more than to allow myself to moan, but considering our circumstances and how close we were to everyone else, I settled for short and fast pants, it was near impossible to keep any noise down with how well he’d been treating me and the sting overstimulation had only been temporary, being drowned out by the pleasure I was feeling at the moment. I was starting to feel myself spiral in my own head and felt like I needed something to hold on to, previously I’d been holding on to his pretty hair and accidentally pressing my nails into his scalp, but with nothing in reach for me to hold on I’d started slightly thrashing in the floor of our marui, but I’d rather do this than be loud.
“I want to see you come on my fingers.” My eyes snapped open -barely- at how low his voice had sounded only to realize he’d been too focused on my pussy to realize he’d said anything. I’d taken note he’d often speak without realizing he’d said anything at the moment until someone- usually Tsireya- called him out on whatever bullshit he’d said, ironically most of it was usually aimed at Spider and me. A whine sneaks past my mouth and one of my hands comes up to reach just as one of his hands come to squeeze the sides of my neck, staring right at me, eyes begging me to come.
“M’coming-“ I struggle to whisper and stated quite breathless before feeling my eyes shut again, a blinding white vision coming behind them as his fingers rub against the spot he had been assaulting this entire time. I could feel an insane amount of energy flowing through my body as I orgasmed and was surprised at how quiet I’d been, biting my own lip and thankful enough to not draw blood, allowing the waves to crash over my body silently. It kind of felt like when someone stretches in the morning, their limbs are spread wide and are on the verge of getting a Charlie-horse, minus the loud groan accompanying it.
Slowly but surely my senses start coming back to me and I could feel my body had been run through the ringer, I felt exhausted and energized at the same time, although a feeling of shock was coursing through me and it had taken a bit to remember that I had been attached to my husband, opening my eyes and seeing his shocked expression fitting the emotion I felt through our bond. I look down toward where he had been staring and it takes a second for me to realize there were droplets of something wet running along the length of his arm and some on his knees, my own eyes widening slightly at the sight, slowly reaching his stare -as he had found it in himself to look up- and realizing I was sharing the same shocked expression.
“What was that?” He asked and the amusement was clear as day in his voice, feeling a million thoughts starting to run through my head, although I was certain most of them had been his own. I shake my head a bit to rid myself of the disorganized chaos that had started flooding my brain to try and understand the predicament we were in, distinctly remembering that I may have done this one other time, but not remembering what it had been or even felt like when it happened before, but this one had definitely made me feel like I needed twelve business days to recover from.
“I need to see you do that again.” His eyes darkened as he said that and I could feel myself start to squirm with excitement, but hissing slightly at the sting of overstimulation, I was definitely in for it tonight and it was already late as fuck, were we ever going to get the sleep we needed to keep up with our busy day tomorrow?
_________
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lvrhughes · 1 year
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Best Friend's Teammate| Q. Hughes
if this does not line up at all, I've never been to rogers arena during hockey season and I literally just chose the first canuck to come to mind to so that's why we've got Brock
word count: 1.9k
pairing: Quinn Hughes x f!reader, platonic!Brock Boeser x f!reader
summary: there’s a family skate and your best friend convinces you to come, the issue being you can’t skate. but he has a solution, the defence man you’ve been crushing on will teach you
warnings: pretty fluff, kissing, falling?
requested: no
not my gif!
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“I can’t believe you’ve lived in Vancouver for the past three years and you still don’t know how to skate!” Your best friend, and pain in the ass, Brock exclaimed.
You rolled your eyes once again, the third time this week he’s brought it up.
“Why do keep bringing this up? What’s happening?” You finally pushed.
“There’s a family skate tomorrow and I want to bring you” he finally caved.
Of course there was a skating event Brock would want you to go to. You looked up at him, he had his best puppy dog eyes out and you knew he knew he’d won once you looked at him.
“Fine.” You muttered crossing your arms, “but you have to teach me”
“Deal!” He was radiating excitement. “I’ll see you tomorrow, 10 am sharp Y/n/n” he called walking the path towards his place while you continued to yours.
What the fuck had you just signed up for, oh god. You knew Brock, so why you still agreed you didn’t know. Brock would definitely get distracted and leave you like Bambi on ice tomorrow, hopefully Elias would help you. Maybe Quinn would be there.
Everyone could see the small little crush you were pining over the young defenseman. It was clear to everyone but Quinn.
The morning rolled around sooner than you would’ve liked, having to get up earlier then you’d want. You had to search for the pair of skates you had from when you once tried to skate, several years ago.
About 20 minutes after you did find them, Brock showed up at your door, he didn’t even bother to knock he simply walked in.
“Oh dear Y/n” he chanted through the house, snooping through the rooms for you.
“Bedroom” you called back and waited for him to come.
He came running in, sliding his socks along the hardwood floor.
“You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be, but you got to promise you won’t just leave me” you made him swear to that, even though he’d break it at some point.
The drive to the rink was the worst part, you had time to think it over. You, who couldn’t skate, surrounded by hockey players, children, and other adults that could skate, you were bound to embarrass yourself. You tried to shake the thought of face planting in front of everyone but you could, but Brock noticed.
“Calm down, you’ll be fine.” He words barely comforted you but it was enough for the two minutes before you made it in the rink.
“What am I doing here Brock, I’m going to die!” You exaggerated, he let out a chuckle.
“No your not”
“How do you know?”
“Because even if I’m not with you, Quinn’ll be” he beamed.
What did he say.
“I’m sorry what?”
“I got Quinn to help teach you.” Brock looked so proud, you were going to kill him.
“You” you pushed your finger against his chest, “are dead to me.”
You knew you were being dramatic but you also knew he knew it was a joke. The smile across his face said so.
“Come on Y/n/n, he’s like the best skater on the team” he bargained.
“hmph” was all you mumbled out before finding a bench and sitting. Brock followed behind you, carry both of yours skates.
“Let me put mine on then I’ll help you” he offered but by some ironic luck, Quinn was there.
“It’s fine Brock I can help her” Quinn offered, Brock quickly accepted for you.
And so you were sitting on a bench, with Quinn at your feet tying your skates, definitely not how you pictured your Sunday going. He stood up, placing his hand out for you.
“Are you ready?” He questioned, no, but nonetheless.
“I guess” you said grabbing his hand, trying to stand. You hadn’t realized how unstable you’d actually be on skates. You almost immediately fell back, but Quinn was faster, he arms wrapping around your waist to stop you.
He let out a small chuckle, helping you stand up completely.
“Do you want to try getting on ice now?”
“God no, but Brock will kill me if I don’t”
So he lead you towards the ice, you could see Brock doing laps, talking to children as they came to him. He made it look so easy. Fuck it, if he could do it you could too.
Quinn skillfully glided on to the ice, you already envied that ability. He took your hand again, helping you to keep steady when you stepped on.
“Okay, just hold my hands we’ll go slow at first” he was so calm and nervous at the same time it almost scared you. But you did as he said, you held his hand, like you life depended on it, and he slowly skated backwards.
“That's good, just copy what I’m doing” so you tried, and you did it the first few times. The was before you caught a divot in the ice.
“Fuck” you said almost falling atop of Quinn, you quickly rolled off him.
“I am so sorry” you were quick to apologize but ur didn’t seem to care, he had a small smile on his face.
“It’s fine. It happens” and with that he got up and helped you up. This time only taking one of your hands, you missed the warmth he gave but wouldn’t dare say that aloud.
“You remember how to push?”
“Yeah”
“Okay do that, it’s the same as before but now you're beside me.” He was so gentle explaining how to push and glide it made you think skating was the easiest thing in the world, you just couldn’t understand.
He let go of your hand, you shook a little bit but we’re soon comfortable. He skated a bit ahead.
“Okay, now skate to me.” He told you. He had so much confidence in your ability, you thought. But you tried.
You made your way over to Quinn, slowly but at least you didn’t fall. Pushing and gliding your feet like he had shown you.
“Perfect” he said once you’d reached him, he took your hand again. He pulled you closer to him and spun. Giggles left your mouth as he did, he thought it was the best sound he’d ever heard.
“Quinn I’m going to get dizzy!”
He slowed so you were just standing in his arms, it was peaceful. All the sound around had faded, it was just you and Quinn in that moment. His eyes stared down into yours, they were so beautiful.
He was so beautiful. That’s all you had figured out, he was gorgeous and you had a crush on him. Unintentionally your eyes darted to his lips, back they were quick to return to his eyes. You saw his eyes look to your lips quick before letting you out if his arms.
“Come on, let’s go get a hot chocolate, then more laps”
A slight disappointment filled you, but you knew Quinn was too good for you. So you skated beside him, still holding his hand, to get off the ice for a drink.
Once you two both had drinks, and had enough of them for the moment he put them beside all your stuff and brought you back on to the ice.
You skated laps beside him, some laps holding his hand, some without. You preferred the laps holding his hand. A shiver ran up your spine, Quinn noticed.
“Here” he said taking off and handing you the hoodie he was wearing.
“No it’s fine, you’ll get cold.”
“Y/n, I basically live on the best ice, I’ll be fine”
You had no argument against that so you took his hoodie, sliding it over your head. It was warm and smelt like him. You just wanted to curl up with it and never leave it.
Quinn’s heart melted at the sight, you in his hoodie, it was definitely too big for you, but he thought it was adorable.
“Y/n” Brock called, skating over before icing both you and Quinn.
“I see you learned to skate” he snickered towards the fact you were now wearing Quinn’s hoodie and holding his hand.
“Shut up”
“She’s actually doing really well” Quinn contributed. Brock just laughed in reply, almost challenging to what Quinn had just said.
You had to admit, you were extremely competitive and petty. So what Brock had did, gave you reason to try and skate better than him.
“I can skate.” You declared. “One lap and you have to admit that I can skate.”
He nodded, you let go of Quinn’s hand and began around. Brock followed beside you, Quinn behind. It was a peaceful lap, until a small child cut in front of you and if u didn’t try to stop you would’ve ran it over.
“Fuck” you mumbled, now sitting on the ice. Brock laughed.
“Oh shut up, that wasn’t even my fault!”
“I know but it was funny” he couldn’t stop laughing, until Quinn nudged him acknowledging the look in your face.
Quinn was quick to help you up, pulling you into his arms while. You hid your face in his chest, knowing they’d seen your reaction to the teasing. They didn’t need to see your reaction again, embarrassment overcoming whatever you were feeling before. Quinn wrapped his arms around you, it was nice. He was warm and smelt good. The urge to nuzzle yourself deeper in his chest was so strong, you made yourself pull away before you could give in.
“I think I’m done for the day.” You said, getting positioned to skate towards the gate.
“No I’m sorry I shouldn’t have laughed, please you were having so much fun with Quinn. Continue on, I’ll go find the team” Brock excused himself before you could deny, your feet were beginning to hurt making you want off the ice anyways.
“Fucker” you whispered under your breath, yet somehow Quinn still heard.
“Do you really want off?” He looked a bit sad, and you knew you couldn’t say no to the kicked-puppy look he had.
“My feet just hurt that’s all”
“If you want we can get off?”
“No it’s okay, let do some more laps”
He smiled, his smile was so pretty, god you were in love. So you did more laps with Quinn, staying on the ice until you had to leave.
Yet again right before getting of the small child appeared to trip you, this time onto Quinn. Your face flushed, now you laying on top of Quinn.
“I am so sorry”
You didn’t even get the extent of your apology out before Quinn kissed you, it shocked you. You froze for a second before melting into him. Your arms found a place around his neck, his wrapping around your waist to keep you on top of him.
You both did have to pull back for air eventually, much to both of yours disappointment. He helped you up from on top of him, on the ice, and pulled you against him again.
“I am so glad you didn’t yell at me” he laughed, placing a kiss on your head.
"Why would've I yelled at you?" A little confused, your tone laced with it.
"I mean I just kissed you, I didn't even ask." he was soft with his words almost embarrassed, you just smiled at him.
"I'd never yell at you, Quinn. I've loved you since we first met."
"Really? That was like three years ago." he seemed shocked, it was a little intimidating, you had to admit.
"I thought I was the only one" he admitted shortly after.
"You've loved me since then too?"
"How could I could I not?" He had a smile on his face, he was practically glowing.
"I love you so much, Quinn"
"I love you so much more"
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charlotte-official · 19 days
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4/15/24 - 4/25/24
THE STEAMBIRD
a/n: ahhhhh I am horrible at keeping up with the schedule I set for myself. HOPEFULLY, however, I'll be able to do better from here on out- especially since summer break is coming up soon!!
headlines: house of the hearth has no rejects, go away il dottore. red haired winery owner is not your daddy. legal advisor helps gay exorcist come out to parents. boys who live with wolves and cat girls are stinky, dawn winery owner says. light of ksharewar angers “the horde” for denying homosexuality. artifacts make super goose, harbinger overthrown.
written by @charnverite
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HOUSE OF THE HEARTH HAS NO REJECTS, GO AWAY IL DOTTORE
WARNING: IL DOTTORE IS NOT A LEGITIMATE DOCTOR YOU WANT TO BE SENDING YOUR CHILDREN TO GET CHECKED UP. THIS IS A FORMAL WARNING FROM THE STEAMBIRD. PLEASE DO NOT TRY TO SEEK HIM OUT EXPECTING MIRACLES AND CANDY.
On April 23, Il Dottore asked Arlecchino for the House of the Hearth's rejects, to which she swiftly declined. What transpired was a small argument between the Fatui Harbingers, Il Dottore throwing petty insults here and there before giving up and deciding to leave Arlecchino alone.
Il Dottore, or the 2nd Fatui Harbinger, is known for his wild, cruel, and sadistic nature. The Doctor is infamous for his experiments, being known to go to inhumane and disgusting degrees. Dottore, in approaching the Knave, Arlecchino, the House of the Hearth's director and 4th Fatui Harbinger, asked for the said "rejects" of her "children." To this, the Knave curtly responded with less than 5 words: "No. ♥️"
"He wanted me to send any "rejects" to him. He planned to experiment on them and then share the results with me." ~Arlecchino, The Knave, 4th Fatui Harbinger. Talking about The Doctor - Statement obtained by the Traveler.
The Doctor found himself to be bewildered to be treated with such a simplistic and dismissive statement, replying "Well fuck you too, you bitch. It would’ve been better if your mother won that fight." Arlecchino would continue to respond quickly and calmly as Dottore continuously shot insults at the woman who called him a cunt once. Sarcastically, Dottore would tell her to die and Arlecchino would tell the man that that is his job. He would then give up, saying he'll leave her children alone.
While the Knave may have been able to bore Il Dottore away by being unresponive to his vulgar insults and taunts, there's no guarantee that the Doctor certainly won't try again. As according to several unnamed witnesses, it's been seen that a mint haired man would approach the House of the Hearth at least once every two weeks. Could the Knave be truly considering his offer or does she remain stagnant in her decision?
ft. @arlecchino-official @dottore-official
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RED HAIRED WINERY OWNER: NOT YOUR DADDY
Taking a look at the red haired Diluc Ragvindr, owner of the Dawn Winery, would one think that he is a man with children? Well, obviously not, seeing as the man lives alone in his manor and a face too young to be considered a father at any point in his life. However, on some odd day, one of Diluc's anons, Hug anon, decided to tell the man he was father to various children- though not biological.
A sort of routine between the man and his anonymous friend, is that every some day, the two exchange pleasantries in regards to how the other has been doing, or what they have been doing. A consistent pattern with Ragvindr, however, is that nothing very interesting really ever happens to him. So once again, after a slight argument with his friend, they began to exchange said pleasantries, Diluc once more admitting nothing really happened with him. Hug anon, growing a tad impatient, insisting that surely something must've happened, and Diluc continued to deny such. 
Growing frustrated, the anon persisted asking that if they were to ask someone else- say, his kids or brother("..who you don't acknowledge"). This is what piqued Diluc's interest. He didn't have any kids, after all, so the man was reasonably confused. The anon continued to elaborate, saying that they weren't biological. 
ka"Are you implying that I am either pregnant, gotten someone pregnant, or adopted someone." ~ Diluc Ragvindr, Owner of the Dawn Winery.
The anon continued to tell Diluc, saying that he has "adopted multiple someones whether he has realized it or not." Finally, the anon finally caved and decided to tell who the alleged "children" were, listing off names such as that of the Spark Knight of the Knights of Favonius, Klee, or the Cat's Tail's Bartender, Diona (who  has expressed fervently that she despises the man). Diluc denied the accusation, and Hug anon later told him that he just can't accept his emotional attachments. Diluc then became slightly upset, opting to ignore the anon, who rushed to go "tattle" on him to his adopted brother, Kaeya Alberich.
This, unfortunately, backfired. As the Calvary Captain of the Knights of Favonius pointed out that the claim was rather baseless, as Diluc didn't even interact with said children on a frequent enough basis to be considered a father figure to any of them. Diona, catching wind of the allegation had quite a bit to say on the matter.
"Ew! Diluc is not even close enough to being called my dad! I wouldn't even let myself get within a 5 mile radius if I could choose, ew... And I already have a daddy so scratch the idea!! It's a not very good one, no offense, but EW!!!" ~Diona Katzlein, Bartender for the Cat's Tail.
  ft. @diluc-official , @kaeya-official , @diona-official
indirect mention (the literal blog was not actually involved). @razor-official ,  @bennett-official , @fischl-official , @klee-official .
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LEGAL ADVISOR HELPS GAY EXORCIST COME OUT TO PARENTS
It's no secret that the pale haired exorcist, Chongyun of Liyue, is a homosexual. The guy has stated it various times, and unlike Sumeru's Light of Ksharewar, he openly accepts it. ...However, the exception to his open acceptance of sexuality is his parents. With the help of his friend and famous legal advisor, Yanfei, the two scheme and try to lay out a plan to help him come out to his parents.
Chongyun, in desperation, made a statement clearly crying for help, saying that if his family asked again whether he's gotten a partner or not he may just run away to Fontaine to become a potato farmer. Yanfei, friend and "professional bullier" to Chongyun, asked if the exorcist didn't already have a partner, as she was under the impression he did. (She tends to tease him about having a boyfriend, though never names who.) Chongyun denies this and Yanfei begins throwing accusations at the poor exorcist.
With his head in his hands, the exorcist swiftly ignores the legal advisor's questions and explains that his parents don't know anything about his interest in males and that he's scared to tell them about his "swinging the other way." From there, Yanfei attempted to ask Chongyun about the scope of his situation, trying to formulate how he could tell his parents of his situation. Chongyun wasn't very eager about this, asking Yanfei anxiously if his parents really did need to know. However, Yanfei rebutted that if he didn't do it, his parents would begin asking for grandchildren and where his girlfriend or spouse.
Chongyun responded that his parents were already doing as such and asked why it sounded like she had experience in this sort of scenario. Yanfei admitted that her parents didn't know yet and they would ask if she had a boyfriend yet.
"there is no experience a girl just knows ok well actually my parents send letters asking if I have a boyfriend yet and I just send a blank piece of paper that says nothing except 'idk'LISTEN I JUST THINK JTS FUNNY TO SEND THEM BLANK PAPERS LIKE THAT" ~Yanfei, Legal Advisor from Liyue.
"LISTEN I JUST THINK JTS FUNNY TO SEND THEM BLANK PAPERS LIKE THAT" ~Yanfei, Legal Advisor from Liyue.
It turned out, that Yanfei's secret was sending her parents basically blank pieces of paper to avoid the question, to which Chongyun mused, asking if he could try that himself. Yanfei pointed out that it wouldn't work since he lives near his parents. Chongyun admitted that his travels around Teyvat were mostly because he wanted to avoid his parents. So alas, the two friends began discussing how Chongyun could come out of his parents while simultaneously arguing whether he had a boyfriend or not. Chongyun continued to deny as such, saying that he'd never lie to Yanfei. She retorted back that he lied when Xiangling ate one of the pages in her law book.
The two ended up agreeing that Yanfei could help introduce the idea of homosexuality to the exorcist's parents so that all he would need to say is that he was gay. And with that, the Yanfei set off with Chongyun to help get himself uncloseted. How did his parents react? Well, stay subscribed to the Steambird to find out in the future!
ft. @yanfei-official @chongyun-official indirect. @xiangling-official
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BOYS WHO LIVE WITH WOLVES AND CAT GIRLS ARE STINKY, DAWN WINERY OWNER SAYS
Diluc Ragnvindr, was asked a question. Who is the stinkiest person in Mondstadt? Diluc, to this, answered immediately, Razor, from Wolvendom. The user denied this answer and asked him to name another person.
"Well he's kinda homeless... So name someone in the city or Springvale." ~user
To this, Diluc began to be more reluctant to answer the question, mumbling that he was actually thinking about Diona, bartender from the Cat's Tail. The user, appalled, asked him why, which he answered was because she smelled like gerbil cages.
ft. diluc-official
indirect: diona-official , razor-official
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LIGHT OF KSHAREWAR ANGERS "THE HORDE" FOR DENYING HOMOSEXUALITY
In regards to gossip surrounding Sumeru's Light of Ksharewar, Teyvat continues to speculate the man is a homosexual. The General Mahamatra, being known for his serious nature and horrible jokes, told a joke about the Acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham, about hating pork. To this, the Light of Ksharewar, Kaveh, replied he hates Alhaitham. The rest of Sumeru seemed to disagree.
On a particularly quiet day in Sumeru City, Cyno, the General Mahamatra decided to share another one of his infamous jokes, "Why does no one in Sumeru eat pork? because they All-hait-ham". Kaveh, Light of Ksharewar, catching wind of this, commented that he hates the Alhaitham. Cyno immediately called Kaveh out, calling him a liar, Kaveh arguing back that Cyno can't just throw around assumptions like that(with horrible spelling). Zandik, a scholar, also agreed with the General Mahamatra. The Light of Ksharewar frantically rushed to explain his stance, arguing against the scholar with even worse spelling.
"And here we see a human adult displaying what is deemed 'queer' behavioral traits. Note how the text rapidly goes into 'keysmash' territory and transitions to an 'all-caps' mode. These are key signs of a homo sapiens in distress or in a state of intense emotional responses attributed to overly positive emotions rather than negative. It is best not to further distress the individual lest they alert The Horde. And woe betide any who dare to alert The Horde." ~Dendro Dragon Sovereign, Apep
Apep, Sumeru's Dragon Sovereign, commented on the architect's behavior, much like that of a scientist studying a specimen on a documentary. In regards to Apep's last two sentences, Kaveh found himself confused on who the mysterious "Horde" was. Apep said nothing besides that the lesbians would eat him alive.
ft. @kaveh-official , @general-mahamatra-cyno-official , @zandik-official , @dendro-dragon-apep
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SUPER GOOSE TERRORIZES SURROUNDINGS, OVERTHROWS HARBINGER
Did you know the Fatui, an infamous organization in Snezhnaya, has a pet goose? Meet Cecil, the Fatuus goose who was given artifacts by Sumeru's Dragon Sovereign, Apep? Unbeknownst to the goose, she gained immense power and began to terrorize her surroundings.
When Apep spotted the goose trying to pick up a giant claymore with her beak, an amusing thought was brought to the dragon's mind. So alas, naturally they would give the goose ancient artifacts which withhold elemental energy that can boost one's battle performance. With the artifact set being gifted to the goose, Apep sent her off with a boost in physical strength. However, it turns out that the goose was already relatively powerful to begin with! Cecil, as shown through previous interactions is adept with a sword and various other weapons, which she uses to terrorize others. In fact, it was found by the Traveler that the goose posessed a delusion!
In later developments, it was uncovered that the goose had dueled with the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia. It has been led to believe that the delusion the goose has acquired was from none other then that of beating Tartaglia in said duel! Additionally, the goose has gone as far as to challenge the Traveler to a fight and bite ferociously at Diluc Ragnvindr, Dawn Winery owner, and il Dottore segment, Epsilon. (Who is seemingly... acquainted with Ragvindr despite the redhead being known for his dislike towards the Fatui.)
Despite the goose's aggression towards most, the exceptions to Cecil's ferocity are that of a puppet with the sigil of the Electro Archon and a mermaid from Fontaine. As studied, the bird seems to hold a sort of affection for her puppet friend, Kabukimono, and mermaid pal, Niananian.
In the end, while this Fatui member goose may be simply just a, well, goose, she is a force to be reckoned with! Step with caution, dear readers, because you may want to be wary of geese! You may never know which one has Verdant Blessings of Chaos from the Dendro Dragon Sovereign!
ft. @goose-of-the-fatui , dendro-dragon-apep , @snezhnayain-carrot-top , @not-the-darknight , @segment-epsilon , @stelliferousduo , @thewanderingpuppet , @purple-scales-and-tales
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merakiui · 7 months
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could you tell us some of these ideas you have for malleus?
There are far too many thoughts... orz here are just a few that I have recently had.
✧ sleep paralysis demon malleus.
✧ a story in which you live at the edge of a forest that's slowly creeping closer and beginning to invade your property. and standing at the edge of the forest, unable to cross over, is a horned stranger dressed in a cloak of brambles. you try to voice your concerns to friends, but they won't believe you. you've been having trouble sleeping lately and you're starting to neglect your mental health, but you know you're not crazy. by the end of the month, you're certain the forest will swallow your quaint home whole. your only option to prevent that? investigate what it is the horned stranger could possibly want.
✧ phantom of the opera au with malleus as the phantom.
✧ idol group with malleus, idia, and azul and you're their manager. or maybe you're the fourth member being added to their ensemble. or maybe you're just a fan hehe. <3 either way, malleus is so whipped for you.
✧ this isn't exactly a malleus-centered thought, but you and sebek bond over your mutual admiration for malleus. you wish to get closer to malleus (because you love him) and sebek completely understands your desire to do so. who wouldn't want to associate themselves with someone as great as waka-sama!!!!!! but in helping you with this, sebek starts to grow romantically attached. he thinks he's dying because no ailment has ever made his heart beat this fast before. T_T malleus is distantly connected to this; essentially, cute love story between you and sebek. :D
✧ your kingdom and malleus's are at war and, in the midst of defeat, you're taken as a prisoner of war and forced to bear malleus's heir. <3 or you're simply forced into an arranged marriage. malleus wants to marry his enemy much to the utter shock of the kingdom, but no one will go against what their king wishes and so you are a captive spouse.
✧ befriending the kind dragon fae boy when you were young and offhandedly mentioning that you'd marry him when you were older. many years pass, the both of you grow and mature, and you've moved to another city to pursue work. one day, you receive a knock at your apartment door. standing there is the dragon fae with a ring and an entire royal entourage behind him. did you not remember the promise you made all that time ago? D: you're going to be wed now!
✧ king rollo and king malleus are at war and you're the poor royal stuck between them, as your kingdom is between both of theirs on the maps. orz and both of them want you to side with them, for they're both hopelessly infatuated with you. for extra drama: the three of you were inseparable childhood friends. >:)
✧ classic somnophilia thoughts. knocking you up while you're in deep sleep. malleus trapping you in a dream that feels like reality, in which you live a happy, domestic life with him. or being stuck in a strange dreamy time loop that you're desperate to break and get out of, but malleus is intent on keeping you here forever.
✧ classic fairytale scenario where you're sent to slay the dragon, but he slays you instead (by spearing you on his cocks!!!! <3).
✧ isekai manhwa sort of plot in which you wake as malleus's maid/advisor/spouse/guard, but according to the plot of the story you're fated to die at his hands because your character ultimately betrays him/does something that warrants death (or maybe you simply die because he threw a fit and you got caught in the raging crossfire). to change this destiny, you make it your mission to get on friendly, happy terms with him. unfortunately, you only give him more reasons to love you even more than he had before and so now you may have avoided death, but you can't escape the stifling obsession.
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tightjeansjavi · 9 months
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Slow Hands | Chapter 3 “trust me to trust you”
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A/N: I sat on this story for awhile as I’m already figuring out how I want to develop the plot. I can tell this is going to turn into another passion project for me as I love the idea of post!outbreak domestic Joel and finding love in his late age. This chapter you get a little glimpse into what outbreak day was like for Beanie. Please remember that the nature of this fic will have dark themes. I will mark the warnings appropriately, but please read with caution. 🖤
~word count: 5.2k~
Pairing | Joel Miller x f! Reader
Summary: early winter mornings, fear of the past, a felt fawn, and Maria’s egg casserole.
Warnings: Canon-typical violence from outbreak day, mentions of loss, carnage, brink of death, depictions of a knife wound, PTSD, panic attacks, trigger responses, mentions of a firearm, I am no expert on the subject but I have done some research as I know it’s a delicate topic, angst, Joel is struggling to adjust to living a domestic life, anxiety, feeling like an outcast, grumpy old man! Joel, shy! Joel, kinda mean! Joel, sunshine reader, flirting, fluff, awkward situations, reminiscing on the past, reader has no physical descriptions and is from Texas, reader has a nickname (beanie bc y’know coffee beans) no age gap, vulgar language, slow burn, this is a fic that takes place post-outbreak so please keep in mind that there will be dark/triggering themes, but to also remember that it is not the main plot line for the story. Please read with caution. (+18) minors dni!
main masterlist series masterlist playlist
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It had been over 20 years since outbreak day, when your world and life as you once knew it, turned to flames and ash before the frightened whites of your eyes. Your coffee shop, Cuppa Smiles, was your little slice of heaven. You had put so much love, dedication, and passion into your establishment. Your coworkers were friends from college that were just looking for a change of pace from their 9-5’s just like the next person.
They all tried to kill you, whatever they were now. It had happened all so fast, and even now on the quietest of nights, you could still hear their snarls and animalistic growls. You could still remember the frightened screams, the chaos and destruction as a Boeing 747 collided into the earth and burst into flames, debris falling from the explosion, hitting those who were fleeing, and those who were no longer living. You remember tumbling along the concrete, rolling like a sack of potatoes as you struggled to breathe. To your direct left was a truck flipped over on its side.
Through the harsh ringing in your ears, you could make out two male voices on the other side of the truck. The one man was holding a young girl to his chest who couldn’t be more than 12-13 years old.
“I’m sorry, baby, I know, I know.” The man’s tone was urgent, rushed and laced with fear as he held his daughter close.
“We gotta get off the street!” The other man shouted desperately.
“Tommy!”
“Head to the river! I’ll find a way. Get her outta here, Joel! Go!”
Joel.
Joel.
Joel..Miller?
The last time you saw Joel Miller, all you could remember was the fear in his eyes, before everything around you went black.
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When Tommy and Maria Miller discovered you on the outskirts of Jackson, looking like you were all skin and bones as you slipped off your horse's saddle and into the cool dirt. Your body was exhausted, your resources were spent and now you just hoped that you would die peacefully. That was until a strong pair of arms were gently lifting you from the dirt as your body laid like a limp fish.
“D’ya think she’s still breathin?’” Tommy asked his wife as she was quickly checking your pulse.
“Barely. She must have been riding for days out in this heat.”
“She showin’ any signs of bein’ infected?” Tommy knew the protocol of bringing in stragglers from outside Jackson, and if you were found to be infected..
Maria made quick work to check your body for any signs of a bite mark. She took sudden interest in a large bloodstain through the tattered fabric of your shirt. She gently lifted the fabric from the hem to discover a gruesome sight. What appeared to be done by the work of a sharp blade was a long semi deep, gnarly gash carving from your abdomen, up your torso, curving under your left breast and wrapped around your ribcage to your left shoulder blade.
“Fuckin’ hell. Someone tried to carve her up?” Tommy asked in disbelief as his wife gently pulled the hem of your shirt back down.
“Raiders, no doubt. She’s not infected. I can’t find any bite marks, but one thing’s for certain though, this woman has been through some hell.”
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It was well over an hour till sunrise when Joel Miller lumbered out of his home, shovel in hand and bundled up fiercely in multiple thick layers to protect his skin from the harsh biting cold. His plan was simple, head over to your house down the street, shovel your walkway, and ask you to accompany him to breakfast. It really was quite simple, but despite that he was running a script over in his mind on exactly what he wanted to say to you.
Hey Beanie, was wonderin’ if you’d like to accompany me to breakfast?
Wait..what if she declines? Then what are you gonna say?
Uhh..
Oh, well that’s alright! Maybe another time? No pressure or nothin.’
What if..she thinks it’s strange that you’re shoveling her walkway at the crack ass of dawn?
Jus’ doin’ my neighborly duty. Besides, it’s jus’ a friendly favor, y’know cause we’re friends?
I sound like an idiot.
Maybe I should just..start off with saying good morning?
I’m hopeless.
Joel grumbled to himself as he trudged through the snow. The whipping wind bit at his exposed skin but he welcomed the chill without a complaint. The harsh elements were just another reminder that he was still alive and breathing.
The outside of your home was just as he expected it to be, quaint, yet quirky. He imagined that in the summer months your front porch would be scattered with flowers and plants. The mailbox just outside your gate was crooked and could definitely use a fresh coat of paint, and the wooden gate was a little creaky, but nothing he couldn’t easily fix. He was already making a little mental note of everything he wanted to fix on, and around your home.
The snow was a few inches deep, it stopped just below the top of his boots. His back already screamed a dull pain up his spine as he bent down with the shovel and got to work. The pain he felt in his muscles was just another reminder that he was still alive.
He gritted his teeth together, jaw clenched as he worked through the first section of your covered walkway.
You never considered yourself to be a heavy sleeper even before the apocalypse. A door slamming, or pots clinking in the kitchen sink at your long since abandoned apartment was all it took to stir you from your slumber. Now, even in the safety of Jackson, your brain was always ticking. What could be lurking behind that dark shadow across the street? Realistically, nothing. It’s just your brain playing a dirty trick on you. A branch outside your window snaps, it’s just the wind. It’s just the wind because it’s storming out, and a strong wind can break even the sturdiest of branches. That noise you heard in the dead of the night? It was just an animal. Maybe a raccoon or a screech from a barn owl. It wasn’t a clicker. You were safe, so why couldn’t your brain just..turn off? Why was it still stuck in this survival mode when nothing inside Jackson’s strong walls could hurt you.
This sound in particular was different. It was unfamiliar, and unfamiliar meant danger. Scraping, grunts, more scraping; man. The hairs on the back of your neck were standing up as you shot out of bed like a bat out of hell. You kept your shotgun next to your bed because well..you could never be too careful. You never had a reason to use it, but it brought you some form of comfort that you didn’t realize you so desperately needed until Tommy experienced your triggers firsthand when he had accidentally snuck up on you while your back was turned to him behind the counter of your shop. The last time he had seen fear struck that deep inside one person, was the night Sarah died in Joel’s arms. So, Tommy lended you a shotgun as an apology.
He’s out there. He’s trying to get me. I have to run. I have to hide. He’s found me and he—he’s going to take me away.
Your brain was screaming at you as you crept down the steps. Every step you took you feared would be your last. It had been sometime since you experienced an episode as severe as this one. Other times you were able to talk yourself back down to logic. Sometimes you’d resort to unbridled violence, usually on a sack of sugar. This time, you felt as if you had no control over your body's current state. It was as if you were reliving—
Joel had his bad ear facing towards your front door. Between the pain in his back, and the scraping of the metal shovel along the concrete, he wasn’t able to detect the front door creaking open.
His back was facing you as you shakily pointed the barrel of your gun at what you thought was an intruder. Due to the low light from the sun barely peeking over the mountains, all you saw was a darkened figure bent over in the middle of your walkway. Had it been brighter out, perhaps you would have recognized the lone figure to be Joel.
Your ears were ringing loudly as the inner voice inside of your brain was demanding you to shoot. Shoot him and then run, and never look back. Your breath grew shallow as the figure slowly turned around to start on the next snow patch..and then immediately froze.
Joel dropped the shovel with a heavy clank as he slowly raised his hands above his head to show you that he was no immediate threat to your safety. “Beanie? Hey, it’s alright darlin’ it’s just me.”
He’s lying
Your entire body was trembling at the top of the steps as Joel hesitantly took a few steps forward. “Darlin?’” I’m gonna need you to lower the gun now, okay? You’re safe. It’s just me. Nothin’ out here is goin’ to hurt you.” He spoke softly, yet firmly. He kept his hands where you could see them in direct view. He was close enough now that even in the low light, he could see the frightened whites of your eyes as you stood there, unblinking.
“I’m goin’ to take another step towards you, okay? Please don’t shoot me.”
Don’t trust him. He’s one of them. He’s here to hurt you. He’s playing a trick on you.
“Joel?” You stuttered shakily as you finally found your voice.
His heart sunk deep into the pit of his stomach when he picked up on just how terrified you were. He knew it wasn’t directly because of him. Something had happened to you, he knew the look on your face all too well, and it was a good thing he knew how to act calm in a dire situation such as this one.
“Yes, it’s Joel. It’s just me darlin.’” He responded as he took another step towards the foot of the steps leading up to your front porch.
“D—don’t come any closer, please.” You uttered just barely above a whisper as you kept the barrel of your gun trained on him.
“Okay. I won’t come any closer, but I need you to trust me to trust you. Do you understand what I’m saying to you Beanie?” He was careful with his choice of words. Anything too sudden might end up with him potentially getting a bullet to the arm or thigh. Not the chest, please. He silently thought to himself.
“What does that mean?”
“It means that I trust you to not shoot me, so I need you to trust me to approach you. Okay? We can do this in baby steps. I just really need you to lower the gun, okay?” His eyes locked on yours as he gave you a reassuring nod.
You blinked a few times as your hands shakily lowered the barrel of the shotgun to the floorboards. Something in you suddenly clicked as the realization of what you had just done, more-so almost done, hit you like a freight train and suddenly you were crumbling right before his eyes.
He let out a visible sigh of relief when your gun was no longer aimed at him, but as soon as your body crumbled to the ground, he jumped into action. His gloved hands were gently wrapped around your shoulders as he spoke softly, yet urgently to you. “Beanie? Hey, you’re alright. You’re alright. I’m right here. You’re safe. You’re safe.” He felt like in those crucial moments it was necessary that he repeat himself just in case you didn’t hear him the first time.
Your eyes were frantically searching his own, pupils dilating under the low light that the early winter morning sky had to offer. He was holding your shoulders so delicately, as if you were fine bone china that would shatter just upon glancing at it. He could feel your muscles trembling under his loose grip. He could feel a hint of anger bubbling in the deep pit of his stomach. The same anger he experienced when he found Ellie— “d’ya..wanna take some deep breaths with me maybe? Or we could count? Sometimes I try’n pick a spot on the wall or somethin’ or count the steps it takes me to get from point A to point B. S’not the best method, but it helps bring me back down to earth.” His tone was so soft, sincere and genuine. If you weren’t such an emotional fucked up wreck, your heart would be melting into a puddle by now.
“Joel..I’m so sorry I-I—didn’t know it was you. I thought you—I thought..” You struggled to articulate a cohesive sentence as his espresso brown eyes bore into yours. He gave you a reassuring nod, and a gentle squeeze along your shoulders.
“Hey, it’s alright. I know you weren’t g’nna shoot me. You were just frightened. Your mind was probably playin’ some trick on you.” He murmured as his thumb was gently stroking back and forth across the fabric of your pajamas on your shoulders. “Y’sure you don’t wanna count?”
“Does..it actually help?” You whispered timidly.
“Sometimes..all depends on what it is that’s triggerin’ me.” He softly responded
“Can you start..please?”
“Course I can darlin.’ We’ll start at Ten.”
“Nine.”
“Eight.”
“Seven..”
“Six.”
“Five..”
“Four.”
“Three..”
“Two.”
“One.” You murmured in unison.
“Y’feel alright with me helpin’ you up? We can stay down here. S’alright with me.” His arms were fully enclosed around you now. He smelled better than you expected. Of course it helped that Jackson had an abundance of hygiene products available; soap being at the top of the list. He smelled earthy, rugged with a hint of minty freshness..toothpaste maybe.
“I really wasn’t going to shoot you..something just came over me and..I couldn’t stop myself.” You admitted softly.
“Would have been real hard for you to shoot me with the safety on darlin.’” He stifled a chuckle as he could see from the angle he was crouched down at, the safety on your rifle was in fact on. “Who gave you that rifle anyway? Someone outta teach ya to use it..never can be too careful.”
“Tommy gave it to me a few years back.”
“Ah. That does sound like somethin’ my brother would do.” He slowly stood to his feet as he offered you his gloved hand to help you up. “These floorboards are pretty damn wobbly. I can take a look at them when it ain’t so cold out? They probably started warpin’ from the changes in the weather. Might have a few boards that are rotted out.”
“Anything else you wanna fix on my house?” You teasingly asked as you grasped his hand, allowing him to help you up from the current sitting position you were in.
“Honey, I’ve got a whole mental list goin’ on in my head right now. The flood boards could end up bein’ a safety hazard if I don’t check ‘em sooner, rather than later. Your mailbox could use some sprucin’ up. Nothing a bit of paint can’t fix, and your gate is a little crooked. I’d uh—I’d be happy to do it though.” He was rubbing the back of his neck nervously with a sheepish look on his face.
“A whole list, huh? Is that why you were over here at the crack ass of dawn?” There was a ghost of a smile on your lips as you wrapped your arms around your chest to block out the bitter chill.
“Well, I gotta put my carpenter skills to good use somehow, right? Actually..I just woke up this mornin’ and wanted to do somethin’ nice for ya. Y’know after you came over and returned the mug..plus, I couldn’t really sleep all that much. I rarely do these days. Anyway, I’m ramblin’ yet again. The main reason I shoveled your walkway is cus’ I was goin’ to ask you if you’d like to accompany me to breakfast?” His face was flushed, and his cheeks were rosy, but he was certain it wasn’t because of the biting chill.
“You came all this way to shovel my walkway, and find an excuse to ask me out to breakfast?” You couldn’t help the smile that was slowly forming over your lips. It was crazy to think that just five minutes ago you were a complete cluster fuck of an emotional wreck, and now you were smiling like a fool because Joel Miller was proving to you that even in an apocalypse, chivalry was alive and well.
He ignored your question, at first. It wasn’t on purpose, he just was more tuned into your active shivering, and the way you tightened your arms across your chest in a weak attempt to block out the early morning chill.
“Are ya cold?” He asked with a soft rasp. He didn’t allow you the chance to answer as he was already slipping his warm suede jacket off and placing it over your shoulders.
“Thank you..” you whispered in a soft response.
“Of course. I’d feel pretty fuckin’ shitty if I caused ya to catch a cold out here.”
“And I’ll feel the same exact way if you catch one as well. Do you..want to come inside? I can put a fresh pot on?” You were already gesturing to your front door with a soft tilt of your chin in that direction.
“Let me just finish up with your walkway, and then I’d love to join you for a cup of coffee.” He was already heading down the steps to grab his discarded shovel.
“Wait! Joel, your jacket? Don’t you want it back?”
He glanced over his shoulder at you with a tiny grin playing on his lips. “Nah, s’alright darlin.’ The cold ain’t real botherin’ me anyway. Now please, go inside before you actually catch a cold.”
You weren’t one to argue at this early in the morning, and especially when you had yet to indulge in your cup of coffee. You slowly bent down and picked up your rifle and slung the strap over your shoulder before heading back inside. As soon as Joel heard the click of your front door closing, he continued on with shoveling the rest of your walkway.
The coffee grounds were just beginning to steep when he had quietly entered your home. He politely left his boots along the doormat next to yours. He didn’t want to be a rude houseguest and track in any snow. The first thing he noticed about your interior style was that you were anything but a minimalist. You had all sorts of picture frames hanging on the wall. Some were photographs but the others were paintings. Realism, portraits, landscapes, anything your heart desires, you painted it.
He especially took interest in all your knick knacks that were scattered in a clay bowl on the table in the entryway. Old keys, coins, lighters and paper matchboxes. Figurines, tiny porcelain coffee cups. The pads of his fingers brushed over a tiny felt fawn that was sitting atop of all the ‘clutter.’
“Ah. I see you found my bowl of treasures? Well, some people would probably call them junk, but I’ve always been a collector of oddities. Although, I wouldn’t really call them oddities. I think the proper term would be keepsakes?” You had two mugs of steaming coffee in your hands as you approached him. His jacket was still loosely hanging off of your shoulders as he looked over at you.
“Where did you find all of these treasures? Have you been collectin’ them through the years? Ellie’s obsessed with this kinda stuff.” He set the little felt fawn down gently as he reached for the coffee mug. Your fingers gently brushed against one another as he gingerly removed the mug from your hand. “Thank you, by the way. For uh, the coffee.”
“For the most part I have found all of these pieces on my own. Tommy actually found that felt fawn a few months ago. He knew it would bring a smile to my face. Do you want to take it home? I’m sure Ellie would love it. That’s kinda the whole concept of the bowl y’know? When I have guests over, I want them to pick something from it that really speaks to them. As you can see the bowl is quite full, considering I don’t get much company around here.” You brought the rim of your mug to your lips, softly blowing on the rising steam before you took a cautious slow sip.
“Oh, I couldn’t do that Beanie. I don’t wanna take somethin’ from ya that makes ya smile. That was awfully nice of my brother. Y’guys pretty close then?” He was gently leaning his weight back against the edge of the table, ankles crossed as he took a small sip from his own mug. For a split second you couldn’t help but feel the soothing domesticity from the moment you were sharing. Joel’s thick woolen socks, his flushed cheeks from the cold paired with his coat resting along your shoulders. There was something so tender to it all.
“Joel, I insist. Please, take the fawn and give it to your kid. I even have a little box for it so it looks like it’s a present. I’m sure she’ll love it. Anyway, Tommy and I are close. I suppose you could lay it out that way? I owe my life to him and Maria..they were the ones who took me in. I haven’t been outside Jackson since.”
“‘Course you got a little box for it and everythin.’ Alright, I’ll give it to El. You haven’t been outside Jackson in that long?..” He asked with genuine curiosity. He didn’t want to come across like he was prying either. He wanted you to open up to him not because he forced you to, but because you felt comfortable enough around him to show your vulnerabilities.
“I’ve only been outside the town one another time and that was when we found the coffee bean plants in the Colorado nursery. Tommy and Maria were with me of course and—” You paused, remembering how freaked out they were when you started to panic out of the blue. Neither of them could calm you down, and you passed out in Tommy’s arms.
“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me anythin’ you don’t wanna tell me, alright?” He reached his freehand out and gently placed it along the side of your wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“Let me..go get that box for Ellie’s fawn. Did you still want to do breakfast?” You set your mug along the table, you had barely touched it.
“If you’d like to. I’d thoroughly enjoy your company, and you ain’t lived till you’ve tried Maria’s egg casserole, darlin.’” He was grinning boyishly over the rim of his mug.
Man, was he handsome.
“Sounds like her egg casserole is to die for then. I’ll just grab that box, and then get dressed. You alright with hanging out here by yourself for a few minutes?”
“I think I can find a way to keep myself entertained till then.” He assured you.
“Perfect.”
Joel waited until you had disappeared upstairs before he let out a deep sigh as he looked down at the little felt fawn. His brow furrowed as he was deep in thought over what had possibly happened to you when you went outside Jackson with Tommy and Maria. He could connect the dots and piece the puzzle together, and the blaring answer was something bad had happened. What exactly? Now, that was going to take a little bit of time.
You came back downstairs a few minutes later. Dressed in some worn out jeans and a sweater made of pure sheep’s wool. Joel’s jacket was resting along the crook of your arm as you handed him a little felt box that went along with the fawn.
“Keep my jacket. I’ve got plenty at home.” Was the first thing that he uttered as he took the felt box from you and gently placed the fawn figurine inside before tucking it safely away in his pocket.
“Joel, I can’t do that. I’ve got plenty of jackets here as well.”
He wanted to tell you to keep it because he liked the way it looked on you. He kept those thoughts to himself for the time being.
“Alright, I won’t fight ya on it.” He shrugged.
“Good, cause you’ll lose every single time you try.” There was a playful edge to your tone as you placed the jacket back around his shoulders.
“Is that a challenge?” He mused, with his eyebrow quirked upwards.
“Nope. It’s facts.” You grinned.
Yeah, we’ll see about that.
More of Jackson’s residents began to emerge from their homesteads at the shrill sound of the breakfast bell chiming from the mess hall. Joel had respectfully offered you his arm as you descended down the porch steps, and past your crooked gate. You obliged to his offer, wrapping your gloved hand around the crook of his elbow.
You had never felt so many pairs of eyes on you since living in Jackson. Curious, envious, surprised, disgusted? Those were the types of looks you encountered from a handful of Jackson’s residents. The looks you received were mostly from women, and even though the world had ended, jealousy was still brewing.
It wasn’t everyday that Joel Miller came strolling into the mess hall with a pretty thing on his arm. You stood out like two sore thumbs, but it seemed like neither of you were paying much mind to it. Joel was used to the stares. People around here didn’t know much about him, other than the fact that he was Tommy’s older brother and Ellie was..like a daughter to him. They’d see the scars on his hands and arms and split like a sundae. He’d hear the whisperings of who he was, where he came from, and he’d shrug it all off. He much preferred keeping his family close, and everyone else at an arm's reach. He secretly relished in remaining a mystery to most.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” Tommy spoke in a surprised tone as you and Joel approached the table that he and Maria were currently seated at. “Ya finally get Beanie outta her coffee shell?”
“It appears that I did. Told her about Maria’s egg casserole and she was sold instantly.” Joel reached over and gave his brother a gentle pat on the shoulder. “Ellie stroll through here yet?”
“She came in a few minutes ago with Dina. There sittin’ with their friends ov’there.” Tommy gestured with the end of his fork.
“Thanks. Got somethin’ I wanna give t’her.” He turned towards you then and gave you a reassuring smile. “Why don’t ya go and grab yourself a plate. I’ll come sit with ya in a minute.”
“Do you want me to grab you a plate as well?..”
“You’re a real doll. Thank you, that would be great.” He gave his brother a slight nod before he was sauntering away to where Ellie was sitting. Her and Dina were sitting side by side, shoulders touching.
“Hey, kiddo.” Joel murmured softly.
“Hey, Joel.” Ellie responded, not looking up from her plate. Things between them were..rocky to put it nicely. She loved her dad of course, and after what happened yesterday she thought she’d be okay, but the truth was she wasn’t.
“I uh—don’t mean to bother you and Dina or nothin.’ Jus’ wanted to give this to you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little velvet box and placed it down in front of her. “Beanies got this collection of treasures and I saw this..little fawn, and immediately thought of you kiddo.”
Why can’t I just be good with my words for once in my fuckin’ life?
Ellie could feel tears pricking the corner of her eyes as she gently lifted the lid off the box to reveal the little felt deer encased inside. This small gesture meant more than Joel would ever realize..but Ellie kept her poker face strong.
“Thanks, Joel.”
His heart dipped and sunk like dry sand becoming wet and weighed down from tumultuous waves crashing upon the shore. It was a small step in what he hoped was the direction of forgiveness.
“You’re welcome, kiddo.” He cleared his throat before he ambled away back to the table where the rest of his family were sitting. He had only known you for less than twenty four hours, and he already thought of you as family. He didn’t count all the times before outbreak day only because that part of himself had died along with Sarah. Or, so he thought.
“El..he’s trying at least.” Dina was resting her chin along Ellie’s shoulder as they were both gazing down at the little felt fawn.
“He is.” Ellie murmured softly.
Joel took a seat across from you as you were sitting next to Maria, gushing over her egg casserole, and how Joel was absolutely right about you not living until you tried it.
He thought you looked so pretty with a soft smile on your face as you looked at Maria with genuine adoration.
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At nightfall, Joel, Tommy and a few other men were out patrolling. With the winter being so harsh, there were more chances of man wandering through these parts. Stragglers were one thing, raiders? That was a whole other story. Joel and Tommy took to the east on horseback. The longer winter night was dead silent. There was no howling wind to whip against the bone dry branches. No low hoot from an owl. It was quiet, too quiet. Even the horse’s hooves were nearly undetectable from how soft and careful they were stepping into the snow.
The only light source they had was the brightly lit moon shining in the jet-black sky. The stars scattered about weren’t nearly as brilliant as the moon.
Joel broke through the silence as he adjusted the strap of his rifle over his shoulder. “Tommy?..” he started, “do you know what happened to Beanie?..”
Tommy let out a huff of air as the bitter cold burned his lungs. He averted making eye contact with his brother before he was met with no other choice but to finally make eye contact with him. “It ain’t my place to tell you that, brother. I’m sorry.” He sounded defeated with his words because he didn’t want to keep anything hidden from Joel. Not after all those years they had spent apart from one another.
“You better give me a real fuckin’ reason why you can’t tell me. Tommy, she nearly fuckin’ shot me this mornin’ because she thought I was a threat. That I was a danger to her life. You can’t tell me anythin?’” Joel whispered back, harsher than he had wanted but he didn’t like being left out of the loop.
“Joel,” Tommy hissed under his breath, “Even if I knew the exact details of what that woman went through, I wouldn’t be able to disclose them to you.”
“Why the hell not?” Joel quipped back.
“Because, because..she ain’t got’a fuckin’ clue about what happened to herself either, Joel.”
What?
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Chapter 4:
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In case you were wondering: are the campus protests even important? Do they matter? Are they making a difference?
Yes, yes. They are making a difference.
Video description: Bisan, a young Palestinian woman, is speaking directly to the camera. She is wearing a black shirt and a keffiyeh.
Video transcript (I did my best but missed a few words)
I’m 25 years old. I’ve lived my whole life in Gaza Strip. I’ve never felt hope like now. Never. I mean it’s magical feelings running in my veins right now. In my head, I’m in Gaza city, in the north of Gaza Strip rebuilding my city after this genocide has ended. Even started to dream that my friends from Yafa, Haifa (unsure), majdal, are returning to their cities after being displaced for 75 years. These young heroes in universities at America and around the world are stronger than the last occupation in history. And for the first time in our lives as Palestinians, we hear a voice louder than their voices and the sound of their bombs and even stronger than their control in all aspects of our lives. 
In the 70s, the occupation, Prime Minister said, after decades of killing Palestinians, stealing the lands, establishing the state of Israel over the lands that “the adults will die, and children will definitely forget.” 
Wait. Is that the greatest (unsure) in history? Because it’s children and youth who are leading the movement for a free Palestine. everything they have on the line to demand justice and end of the genocide, and a new era of the world, not based on oppression, exploitation or colonialism. 
Do you know what the best part is? demonstrations and calls for boycott in the academic institutions are not limited to a certain people from certain religion, culture, color, religion, race, or maybe economic level. We are all different so we can no longer be accused of anti-Semitism, serving some agendas from outside, we are just different people calling for the same thing. People to people and people to justice. 
200 days I’ve spent escaping death every single minute were not in vain. And those 40,000 innocent souls were killed during these days were not also in vain. And this is the first time to feel and tell you this. 
Keep going because you are our only hope and we promise we will hold our ground and tell you the truth always. And please, don’t let their violence scare you. In Arabic, we say (Arabic phrase). In English, that means “they don’t have other options, but trying to terrify and silence you” because you are demolishing decades of brainwashing. You are making the change. The real change. Their violence means that we’ve begun to affect them deeply. Believe me, we are in the bottom of this bottle and we’re very very close to the end of this genocide. Maybe even closer than anytime before. Thank you. Thank you for each one of you, because you made us, me and my people feel that we are free. We are heard. We’re going back to our homes, and land. 
(Through tears) I have spent the whole night thinking about every video I see, you shouting for Palestine, you protesting for Palestine, you are dancing, singing for Palestine I feel it here in my head that I am going back. And I am free, and one day, we will celebrate it in, in Gaza together. Keep going and we will too. Salaam. 
(if anyone can help with my transcript, it would be much appreciated!)
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eddies-whoreee · 1 year
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Forbidden Fruit
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Bro I swear I had this on scheduled post. For the day it was supposed to be posted on. Come to fucking find out. I didn’t and it never got posted. But here it is the long awaited. I’m so pissed.
Summary: after a bad fight between Eddie and his wife. He stays the night at his best friend’s house. Instead of his best friend, Steve he’s greeted by Steve’s daughter who was away for college but is visiting. Feelings are confessed and things go further.
CW: cheating, daddy kink very small, dads best friend!eddie, age gap, , unprotected P in V, pet names, almost getting caught,Reader is over 18!!
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You are pulled from your focus on the TV show you are currently watching with a hurried knock on the door. Your head snaps to the front door with a confused face. Your dad didn’t say he was expecting anyone. You get up fixing your ridden up shorts that seem to go higher with every step. You look into the peep hole and see a soaked Eddie Munson, one of your dads best friend. You immediately open up, “Mr.Munson? Oh my goodness are you okay? Come in” you say worriedly steeping out of the way. He chuckles lightly shaking his hair softly like a wet dog. Before stepping in, “I’m fine honey, where’s your dad?” He asks taking off his jacket which you set on the coat rack for him. “He’s on a work trip. He didn’t tell you?” you respond crossing your arms to mask your nipples peaking through your thin material shirt. “I actually didn’t call,my mistake. Is it okay if I crash here for tonight. Trouble at home” he says with a goofy smile. “Oh yeah, no problem it’s just our guest room is kinda a mess….” You trail off. “Oh that’s okay I can sleep on the couch, trust me I’ve slept on worse” he assures you. “Okay….” You speak looking him up and down admiring the way you could see through his white T-shirt that was soaked. “If that’s okay.” He says pulling out of your dark and twisted thought of him. “I’m sorry what? I was zoned out” you state, “can I get a change of clothes.” He smiles showing his pearly white. “Shit- sorry yeah I’ll go get some of my dads clothes. You want a shower?” You ask walking towards your dads room. “That’d be amazing” he says fidgeting with the chain on his jeans. So you grab him a change of clothes from your dads room. Grey sweatpants, white t-shirt, socks and underwear. As you hand him the folded clothes. “You got a hair tie bunny?” He asks. You take the scrunchie from your wrist and hand it to him. He smiles as a light blush runs to his face. “Thanks sweetheart.” He replies waking down the hall. You smile and walk back to the couch.
The tension was thick, you were in the kitchen keeping an eye on the boil pasta. Eddie was sitting on the couch hair still wet from the shower. And a beer. It took every fiber of your being to not walk in the living room to jump his bones. God, he was so hot. And not the young boy clean cut hot. The mature, rugged hot. It was 6:30 PM. No where near night and your dad was going to be gone for at least three days. So it was just you. You huffed setting a timer for 10 minutes and walked back in the living room. “Food should be done in 20 minutes” you state plopping down a little too close to Eddie. “I told you doll, you don’t have to make me dinner I’m fine with a cup of noodles” he says. “Non sense a hard working man like yourself deserves a meal. And you said you were having a bad day, the least I can do is make you a nice warm meal.” You tell him. “You sure know how to butter me up.” He states looking over at you, eyes trailing down your body. It was so wrong, the way he looked at you was wrong. His thoughts, were wrong. “Eddie?” You peep. God, the way you said his name. He was going to die with the boner he was growing. Especially in these grey sweatpants that hid absolutely nothing. “Can you touch me?” You ask playing with your hair giving him a innocent look. “Come again?” His eyes widen. You giggle, “touch me….” You trail off. He shocked and by shocked. He frozen in place, he’s looking at you. “Kiss me, play with each other” you continue. “Kiss? Play? Babydoll do you know what your asking for?” he coos tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You nod, “please” you squeak making Eddie’s ringed hands around your waist. He then pulled you onto his lap making you gasp at the sudden movement. “You’re a fucking vixen you know that? I’ve been dying to fuck you” he groans as you grind on his boner. “Mm, yeah? All I had to do was ask. Thought it would take a little more convincing. Since, you know..” you tell him holding up his hand with his wedding ring on. “Oh god don’t do that bunny. How was I supposed to resist you. Look at you, these shorts are basically panties and I can see your tits through your shirt.” He states. “Mr.Munson have you been obsessing over me this whole time” you say faux shock. “Oh shut up, and take your shirt off” he jokes. You giggle as you take your shirt off. Your tits spilling out making him suck in a breath. With that he stands up pick you up like it was nothing. You wrap you legs around his torso and arms around his neck. “Where are we going” you gasp. “I’m not gonna fuck you on a couch” he tells you walking up the stairs. “And they say chivalry is dead” you state. He chuckles, “you’re a fucking smart ass” he chuckles as he flings open the door of your bedroom. He takes a few steps before tossing you on the bed making you giggle as he climbs on top of you. He pulls you into a heated make out session. It wasn’t soft and slow, it was rough and fast and a little sloppy. But you two were in a rush okay? You both had been wanting his since forever. “God is this damn thing glued to you.” He grunts trying to undo the knot on your shorts. “Just-” as you were about to undo them he gets frustrated and just rips them off making you yelp and the feeling of sudden cool air hitting your soaked cunt. He tosses the torn material to the side. “Look at you, holy fuck, you are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen” he coos, you would feel awkward if you were naked and the other person was clothed but it was Eddie. If he told you the color purple was green you’d believe it. He pushed your legs to spread wider. “You’re fucking dripping baby? All this just f’me?” He asks running his thumb along your folds teasingly. “P-Please m-more” you whine bucking your hips slightly forward. “Aww, it’s okay, gonna give you what you want” he states taking off his shirt, his inked torso and arms. Made your cunt throb, along with his toned muscles. Next is his sweatpants, he slides them down his just till mid thigh. His cock bulging through his boxers. You audibly gasp once he takes his cock out. A smug smirk ran across his face.
“Like what you see?” He teases, your face blushes redder as if possible. “You’re so big” you peep eyes glued to his dick. “You can take it. Right? You’re a good girl, you can do it” the last part coming out in a mumble as he aligns himself with your entrance. He throws his head back at the feeling of your arousal coating the tip of his cock, that leaked with precum. “Ya ready bunny?” He asks, you nod eagerly muttering little pleas. With that he slams into you, all of him filling you up at once. Stretching you out, hitting your pelvis with one thrust. “Fuck! Thankyouthankyouthankyou” you yelp bakc arched and head thrown back. “That’s it, holy fuck, you’re so tight.” He says pounding into you. He pulls you up so both of your chests are touching. Your tits rubbing against his chest. You wrap your hands around his chest clawing at his back. “Fucking hell, it’s like this pretty pussy was made for me” he grunts pounding into you at a relentless pace. “Mmmm, please! Oh! F-fuck” you squeal overcome with pleasure. The feeling of being stretched to the brink. It made your eyes water with every thrust. It sounded like a wild animal fight. The wolf finally catching the bunny. Your moans and groans mixed together. You mind filled, with Eddie, Mr.Munson. “Feel good bunny?” He coos, knowing by the way you were basically yelling incoherently rambles. You nod vigorously, not able to form any words. In swift motion he has you back to straddling him. He takes your face in one of his hands keeping the other one wrapped around your waist. “Use your words, m’kay?” He states squishing your cheeks together. As your eyes focus back on his, “m’kay!” You squeak. “I asked you a question” he says. As he brings his hand down to your clit rubbing it slow and agonizing.
“Oh! I-I can’t r-rememberrrr” you whine rolling your hips forward. “Hm.. I asked if it felt good?” He asks starting his thrust back up not as fast and harsh but a nice pace. “Fuck! Yes! Feels amazing” you whimper. “Yeah? Want me to go faster?” He teases speeding up the assault to your clit. “Yes!” You yelp. His pace is now brutal, “m’gonnna cum, p-please” you whine. “I’m close too bunny. Gonna cum s’deep in you, have me leaking out till tomorrow” he groans his cock twitching inside you. You felt the knot in your stomach snap. You see stars and feel pure euphoria. As your orgasm rocked through you Eddie’s also washes over him at the same time. You two throw your heads back in sync. “Fuck!mmmm daddy fuck!” You cry head fuzzy. “Ss-s-so good. Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” He whimpers digging his head into the crook of your neck. “Daddy?huh?” He teases a smirk creeping on his face. “Shut up” you say breathlessly. Your chests heaving and heavy breathing was interrupted by a voice booming through the house. “Hellooo is anyone home? Y/n?” Your dad calls out from the living room. “Fuck! He’s was supposed to be gone” you whisper-yell. “Get in bed and act asleep. I’ll say I took you to bed since you fell asleep on the couch.” He says while you lift off of him. His cum spilling out of you. You scurry to the bed and cover up fully. Eddie hurriedly gets up and fixes clothes and his hair. You close your eyes and act asleep. While he just stands there. “Eddie cover that stain on the bed with my jacket. It’s on the dresser” you tell him eyes still shut. He nods doing exactly that.
He walks out your room as Steve was heading up the stairs. Steve stops midstep. “Eddie? I didn’t know you were here” he says taking a bite of his apple. “Yeah.. trouble with Kat, so I came here. Y/n let me in” Eddie says walking to Steve. “Oh, okay. Do you know where she is?” He asks taking another bite. “She’s asleep in her room. Guess she was tired she fell asleep on the couch.” Eddie shrugs scratching his neck. “She said you were on a business trip” Eddie says. “Got off yesterday, stayed today to rest and now I’m back it was supposed to be all week but it got rescheduled. I actually have a date tonight I just came home to shower and change into my going out suits.” Steve tells Eddie with a small nudge and a smirk. Eddie lets out a chuckle and nods. “Ill be back tomorrow morning or so.” Steve states. Walking up the stairs. Eddie huffs walking into the living room to sit and think about what just happened. Did he just fuck his best friends daughter. Yes. Yes he did.
About and half an hour later Steve leaves saying goodbye to Eddie. Once eddie is sure Steve left he has to come back to you. He walks in your room and you actually fell asleep. He shakes you lightly. You flutter you eyes awake and immediately smile seeing him. You snuggle into his chest. “You okay? Baby? You did so good for me” he tells you giving your forehead a kiss. “M’all good. But I can tell I will be sore for the next couple of days” you reply. “I’ll give you a massage.” He states. “Yesss please you say laying on your back.
And with that he was giving you a massage. “So…when you said daddy” he jokes making you groan.
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captain-mj · 11 months
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Dragon 2/3
There is going to be a third part
Ghost felt so heavy. His limbs were weighed down by the heavy chains. They chose to use iron and it burned his skin. It didn’t feel like his flames. The flames he loved. More like chemical burns. They wrapped around his wrists, ankles and his wings. He didn’t raise his head when someone came in. He stayed as a deadweight as he was dragged forward. 
Roba stepped in front of him, his shoes in his line of sight. “A young King just turned 25. How exciting, yes?” 
Ghost stared at him. Silent. Annoying. 
“I apologize, dear friend. I searched everywhere, but it seems you’re alone. No more dragons anywhere.” 
Ghost stared at him. Impassive. Horrid. 
“Which means you’re going to be my gift to him. I’ve heard he doesn’t find comfort in women, so I can’t give him that. Giving him a few men would be seen as shameful, understand? It’s best to give him you. A dragon. They consider you religious. Do you think yourself divine?”
Ghost did not. He felt painfully solid. His wings were thin from disuse, though his body still had plenty of muscle. 
Roba dug his heel into a weak point of his wing and Ghost bit his tongue. “Words, Ghost.” 
“No, sir.” 
“Good. Get him cleaned up.”
They used cold water. It tingled. So cold against his already cold body. Dragons were not supposed to be this cold. But the burning feeling in Ghost’s chest had faded to an ember. Only kept up by a stubborn need to live even when Ghost was accepting he’d much rather die. 
Alone. The word rattled in his brain. No one else? No others? How unfortunate. How sad. Ghost certainly felt alone here. But that was not a new feeling. 
They scrubbed his skin, blood dripping from wounds they opened with how careless they were. It felt good. In a weird way. Finally being clean was a huge plus too. They took his chains off carefully. Always keeping just enough on that he couldn’t escape. As if he would.
One of the servants kissed his cheek. Gently. A mockery of love. “Good luck.”
How would they deliver him? Whole? In pieces? Maybe they were cleaning him so they could dismember him and deliver him on a platter?
Ghost wouldn’t mind. Dying. He only hoped when the King was done, he’d get rid of his body. Burn it. Most likely, he’d be hung up like a trophy. At least, his wings would. 
Ghost fell asleep in the carriage. They had been keeping him awake lately and now he knew why. No matter how hard he tried, he just passed right out. 
Until his head was being dunked in ice water. How Roba even managed that was beyond him. He had been dressed while asleep. Simple loose pants. His chest was bare. More iron around his wrists and along his throat. 
“Don’t embarrass me. You understand. You’re a gift. Act like it.”
Ghost nodded absentmindedly. His eyes already glazing over. He had gotten used to the patterns in Roba’s cruelty. How would this new king be?
“His name is Soap. It’s his coronation and 25th birthday. They did a joint celebration.”
Soap. 
Soap….
What a weird name.
Ghost had his hair cut slightly, just enough to make it look nice again. It curled and kinked up and the person trying to make it stay down was getting upset. He ignored them and they gave up eventually. 
When Roba had taken him from the farm house, he had yelled for Johnny. No one had known who that was. He had screamed until his voice went hoarse. They said no prince in the area had the name Johnny. Did the human lie to him? Why? Being royalty meant nothing to Ghost. Him being a prince meant nothing. 
“Put your wings up. Need him to know you’re a dragon.” One of them hit him lightly and made him hold his wings up. 
They were heavy. They had never been heavy before. But right now, they just ached something fierce. Ghost felt them start to drag and one of them quickly corrected them. 
“Either hold them up or we cut parts of them off.” 
Ghost found the least uncomfortable way to hold up his wings. He tried not to let his eyelids droop. Exhaustion was getting to him. 
Then, he was marched into a room. Full of people. All of who looked at… at him. 
Why were they looking at him?
“King MacTavish! I hope I’m not late.” Roba walked forward and Ghost trailed behind him, feeling like he was being set on fire and not in a good way. “I brought you something?”
Ghost felt like the room was spinning. Was it spinning?
A thick accent. One he swore he heard before. It was talking but the room was spinning too had. His wings were drooping. They hurt. He was heavy. 
Someone was screaming. It was loud. High pitched. Maybe it was him. 
Roba’s voice. Full of pride. 
“The Last Dragon.” 
Ghost knew he wasn’t the one screaming. He was on the floor. A blade. There was a blade. 
More screaming. It was so loud. 
Ghost fell asleep. 
He missed Soap’s hate filled berating of Roba. The way he pulled out a weapon and threatened to cut him from throat to belly button. If he saw it, he’d be proud. 
Ghost only knew that when he woke up, there was not a single chain on him. That the ground beneath him felt soft. A blanket draped over his body. And he had been scrubbed clean in his sleep. He could tell because his skin tingled and smelled floral. 
Soap, his King, paced at the foot of the bed. Angry, violent footsteps.
Ghost had displeased him. Most likely by passing out. 
He didn’t move an inch. Simply waited. Maybe he’d calm down. 
Soap stopped moving. The deafening silence followed. 
Ghost bit his tongue as he felt him approach. Felt soft fingertips along his back. Along the bulk of his wings. 
“Simon.” 
Ghost felt him saying that name like a stab wound. “Ghost.”
“Ghost.” 
Hands through his hair. Gentle. A mockery of love. 
“Oh, Ghost. What did they do to you?” Soap asked him softly. 
Ghost’s eyes fluttered. “Johnny?”
“Hi.” 
Oh. He was a Prince. 
Ghost didn’t want to move. He felt tight. Like he’d break open if he moved too fast. 
Soap gently brushed his hair out of his face. “Look at you. Still so bonnie.”
His accent had gotten thicker. Ghost still flinched when he came too close to his face. 
He moved to instead stroke Ghost’s hair. He scratched his scalp gently and it felt so nice Ghost almost moaned. Instead, he went slack, letting Soap manipulate him how he wanted. 
Incredibly careful hands touched his body. Inspecting the cuts. The bruises. The now harsh scars that would never leave. 
Then came the kisses. A simple press of the lips over every one. Until Ghost felt so wound up, he was afraid he’d break apart. Shatter into a thousand tiny little pieces. A sob passed his lips and Soap pressed into him. 
“You’re okay. You’re alright.”
It was too much. 
“Please.” 
Soap pressed closer. His skin impossibly too hot and too cold. “What do you need? How can I help?”
“Stop touching me.” It was a risky move. 
Soap yanked back. “O-of course. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean.”
Ghost pressed his face into the pillows. “If you want something from me, just take it and go.”
“No. I’ll do nothing of the sort.” Soap said quickly. Ghost shuddered, wondering what he was planning. 
Was he still mad Ghost left all those years ago? Yes, it wasn’t on purpose, but that meant nothing to human. Or maybe he wanted to finish what he started all those years ago. 
The idea of Soap, or Johnny he supposed, pinning him down. Taking advantage of his weakness to fulfill his human desires. 
Wouldn’t be the first time. Soap was softer though. Weaker than your average human. Maybe he’d at least take it slow. That would drag it out though. 
“Are you hungry? You’ve been asleep a long time.”
Ghost tried to piece together how long exactly he had been asleep. He was hungry. So fucking hungry. 
“I’ll take that as a yes you are.” Soap rang a bell and someone brought them food. He started to situate the pillows, making them into a weird pile. 
Ghost watched him pat the pile multiple times before realizing he was supposed to sit there. He slowly moved and sat in front of him. Soap pushed him into it and… it was comfy. Really comfy. 
Ghost slowly melted into it, head tilting back. Soft underbelly exposed. 
Stab him. Cut him open. Bleed him dry. 
Soap did no such thing. He took the plate from them and knelt in front of him on the bed. “Just eat, yes?” There wasn’t much room for arguing. His hand was cupping Ghost’s jaw with the other holding bread, making it impossible to escape. 
Ghost opened his mouth slowly and he could see Soap counting his teeth. Some had been filed or broken, but his body would just make more. He’d have to remove some of them before he could replace them, but it would be fine. Ghost ate from his hand slowly, feeling intense shame from the act but an understanding that he wouldn’t be fed otherwise. It wasn’t the most degrading thing he had to do for food. 
Soap kept stroking his face. His chin, his cheeks, under his eyes. 
“Beautiful.”
Ghost was confused what he found attractive about his scar riddled body, but if he had his fetishes, he had them. He finished eating, starting to feel sick despite only getting a few mouthfuls down. 
Soap cupped his face fully, taking him in. 
“I missed you.”
Ghost didn’t look at him. 
“That’s okay. I’m so glad you’re alive. That I can see you again.” 
Ghost closed his eyes slowly.
Soap was feral. A bit like a puppy. He kept touching Ghost. His fingertips running over his wings. Presence all around him. He smelled so strongly of different things. Nice things, don’t get him wrong. Just overwhelming. 
Ghost opened his mouth but before he could even get words out, Soap was jumping up and down. 
“Need a drink? You must be thirsty.” Soap fixed him a glass of tea and brought it to him. He still had his crown on. And his coronation outfit. It was funny, seeing someone that looked so royal care for him. 
Soap’s red coat hit the ground, gorgeous against his white shirt. Ghost could see the intricate gold coloring and it took him a minute, but he realized it emulated his own gold scarring. The designs on the coat jumbled on the back, giving the appearance of wings. 
Did Johnny miss him that much?
Ghost hated himself for leaving. 
Soap hesitated. There were mere inches between them. It felt like nothing to Ghost and too far to Soap. Ghost felt smothered. Unused to such affections. 
Soap wanted to swallow him whole. 
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