#never in history has a man ever been so down bad
Note
A lightee ask than usual but do you have any food or eating habit thoughts?
Ooohooohh, I did a whole ass seminar on the history of food. Failed it because I almost bled to death but I got to keep all the material! I've got.... a lot of thoughts and feelings about food culture. Too goddamn many, tbh. This got really long so I'll have to do a part two for other characters if wanted but lol enjoy.
Alfred:
—Actually pretty gourmet little shit when he's got time and effort. He's made food Maria loves so often she has to give up on pretending she didn't enjoy it because fucking hell, he makes good chilaquiles after they've been drinking and fucking. There is, however, a non-zero chance he hasn't eaten a vegetable since the Nixon administration.
—With that combustion engine metabolism, he's also perpetually hungry, so he eats whatever is around him. His guts do not like this, especially when it's a lot of dairy.
—He has that kind of lactose intolerance that's tied to his health and stress, so if he's been particularly freaked out lately, he'll remind the world of his nuclear arsenal when he's got to use the toilet after that triple cheeseburger with a side of deep-fried cheese curds.
—He's a stress eater too. He eats every negative emotion he's ever had especially when he's trying not to binge drink or do drugs.
—He’s exceptionally food-motivated. They didn’t call one of his first major historical eras ‘the starving time’ without reason. He has preferences, but food is also food, and he’ll genuinely enjoy it in most forms as long as it's not rotten or otherwise godawful. Cowboy coffee and beans for ten days straight, and he will genuinely be the only man on that cow trail not sick of it by the end.
—This also goes into why he’s so generous with food. He’s big on homemade food. He’ll make a whole big ass batch of like some sort of mac and cheese, and all the neighbours will get a big ol’ bowl of it with an ‘oh just return the Tupperware whenever,’ and it will genuinely be one of the best things they’ve ever eaten in their lives. Europeans recoil in horror, but our portion sizes are almost never single servings. It’s a generosity and hospitality practice except drinks. He really will down like a 2 liter of Slurpee in a single sitting.
—He doesn’t mind eating alone. Actually prefers it sometimes. He loves eating in his car. American frontier culture, especially mountain men, had an often hyper-individualized, almost mythic culture of spending long periods alone in the woods and not being very sociable; thus a lot of situations where single servings were a thing, eating alone in quiet without something to do can be a real goddamn luxury.
—He’s a really big protein guy with his metabolism. Sometimes exists on protein shakes but is more often a beef or barbeque or ham or alligator jerky. And a somewhat chunky Alfred is a healthy Alfred. A perfectly cut no flab Alfred is an Alfred who might be severely dehydrated and on several kinds of uppers.
—He has better tastes than Arthur who didn't really realize food was supposed to taste good until like ten years ago but his combinations can be equally wild and unappetizing as they are batshit tasty.
—He loves spicy food. He's got so many opinions about hot sauces.
—He’s always hungry. If he isn’t hungry or turns down food, its genuinely a bad sign. If he turns down anything or just is just picking at it his food alarm bells should be sounding. He’s either about to declare war or puke all over the table or keel over dead. Peckish or food coma is his default state. Like if he was a smaller guy someone would say he’s got a binge disorder but he’s tall and beefy so he’s pretty okay.
—Incredibly adventurous eater too. People will assume since there’s that old school culture of Anglo-American who eats the same 7 meals every week and might keel over dead if the meatloaf is slightly different he’ll be a bit hard to please but then he’s absolutely charmed by everything from Korean kimchi to Lithuanian Lašiniai.
—He loves anyone who feeds him, just got to be a bit careful because he’s got surprisingly delicate stomach for the world superpower.
—That American obsession with authencity means he’s surprisingly good at remembering people’s food culture or eating norms. He figured out chopsticks in ten seconds and quickly picked up the cues and manners of eating in any given culture. Still struggles with modulating his voice and personality, so he can often come across as rude, but he's so excited to do so. It's almost frustrating how happy he is to try and adapt to people around him and how happy he can be to fit in.
Matt:
—He's a very good cook when he's putting in effort for other people, but he's not really like Alfred, who he'll make a whole ass meal for one just to relax on a Sunday.
—He does tend to eat more vegetables than Alfred, but only because his northern vitamin deficiency has him binging them when he can afford them or they're available during the summer.
—He can be weirdly picky on his own, but no one ever really needs to ask about his favourite food or how he likes anything because he always just goes with the flow around other people. “Just get me whatever you’re getting.” comes out of his mouth often.
—There's a lot of sour cream/crema and yoghurt/coconut milk involved when he eats Mexican or Indian food for as much as he loves it.
—Katya was singlehandedly responsible for his ability to maintain a normal weight during the 20th century by adding rye bread and perogies/vyrenki to his diet. He craves mushroom-umami flavours when he misses her, which is most of the time.
—When he’s normal and eating the Anglo-North American diet, but he isn’t always eating it, he gets some strong sugar cravings, especially when he’s west of Manitoba. He’s as fond of birch syrup as a flavour as he is maple; there’s just less production. But the kind of deprivation he got and his own tendencies to not eat sometimes cause white sugar to just straight-up burns.
—There's very much something of François to Matt's dietary habits, but less in his personal tastes and more in that he might be more sensitive to flavours. He has that kind of discerning and slightly oversensitive palate, but he’s a shitty perpetually broke frontier settler colony. He knows better/feels too guilty/is too embarrassed of himself to really indulge it.
—He kept too much of his peasant communalism in his eating habits. Where Anglo-American communities did have a lot of cooperation, communal eating was a special occasion. The norm was based on the individual household. In contrast, French Canadian habitants still technically lived on medieval land plots and owed labour to a lord while also having a culture of seasonal male work, so Matt grew up used to communal ovens and eating most of his meals around others. Later, in Arthur’s jurisdiction, it was usually the same. He got a plate of whatever he was given, and it wasn’t something he had ever had to initiate himself.
—Partially, he's sometimes exceptionally bad at eating when he has to choose to do it himself. Especially since the Americanization of the food culture took hold in the '80s and '90s. Whereas Alfred is food motivated from going without when he was little, Matt learned how to block out physical sensation until he collapsed because it was rare that someone, including himself, cared about what kind of state he was in. He just doesn’t eat at all when he’s stressed or anxious. And now it's his sole responsibility to do so as there aren’t the same community structures. He has a lot of Alfred’s abundance now, all the brunch and BBQ places anyone could ask for, but it hasn’t meshed with his eating habits. His people gave up so much of their communal eating in exchange for various choices and then wondered why they were so lonely. So he’ll just microwave a potato or a packet of Kraft dinner a day for a week straight and wonder why he feels dead because, technically, he did eat something. It’s seriously a miracle he got as tall as he did.
—Feed him nothing but hardtack for three years, and he won't complain until he's dropped dead of scurvy. If Arthur puts some sort of godforsaken mixture of plum sauce or gin-infused spag bol in front of him, he’ll compliment it before he disassociates to get at least some of it down.
#the ask box || probis pateo#hws canada#hws america#meatsack mechanics || the sociology and biology of nations#matthew || my country is winter#alfred || o beautiful for spacious skies
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The way the only thing that makes Carmy crack a smile while being locked in the walk in is remembering the first and last meal Syd made him. Mind you, he didn't even try the fennel salad and the radicchio almost made him throw up.
#this idiot is so in love it's embarrassing#idiots to lovers#never in history has a man ever been so down bad#the bear#sydcarmy#sydney adamu#carmen berzatto#chefs kiss#syd x carmy#platonic and messy#carmy x sydney#charged and sexy#the bear fx#he's insane#who misspelled radicchio#the bear meta
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I just spent some time scrolling through this blog and am suffering from sever laughter. Thanks so much for collating the countries craziest moments. One of my favourites is when Scott Morrison was in Hawaii while the bushfires where burning.
December 2019: As Australia's east coast is engulfed in the worst bushfires in living memory, rumours begin to circulate that Australia's Prime Minister Scott Morrison may have secretly fucked off for a holiday in Hawaii.
Keep in mind, this is what is going down in Australia at the time:
The Hawaii rumour is initially written off as a fringe conspiracy, because surely nobody could be that fuckin tonedeaf, and it was quickly forgotten about... until an Australian man visiting Hawaii UPLOADED A SELFIE ON THE BEACH WITH THE PM THROWING A SHAKA.
At which point all hell broke loose.
Overnight the formerly popular "Scomo" became the most despised man in all of Australia. Think "firefighters shouting out of their windows to news cameras" level of despised.
After about two days of radio silence and pretending like he was still at home running the country, the Prime Minister's handlers finally dragged him onto call with an Australian radio station, where he pinky promised to return to Australia as fast as he could in an attempt to calm things down.
Unfortunately Scott's empathy consultant (a real job) then had to watch Scott pour more gasoline on the dumpster fire by uttering the now famous phrase "Look I don't hold a hose mate" when asked by the radio interviewer why the fucking fuck the fuckhead wasn't fucking in Australia doing his fucking job during a massive fucking crisis.
Testing just how much worse things could get, Scomo then proceeded to NOT rush back to Australia as promised, instead attempting to complete the rest of his holiday, a fact that was exposed when a passerby snapped a picture of him still lounging on the beach two days later.
Eventually, holiday complete, Morrison did reluctantly slink back to Australia, and in an attempt to calm things down, he decided to pay a visit to a small town that had been destroyed by the fires.
Which was a big mistake.
Scomo still had not registered how absolutely and totally he had screwed the poodle with his Hawaiian beach vacation, and he walks into what is now taught in PR classes as one of the greatest examples of "what not do do in a crisis" in all of history.
Scotty from Marketing, as he is now dubbed by the nation, spends a painfully cringe-inducing hour wandering around a burned down town with TV news cameras in tow, having to FORCE PEOPLE TO SHAKE HIS HAND in what is some of the most awkward footage you will ever see.
At this point it's probably also worth mentioning that, before becoming Prime Minister, Scott Morrison's biggest claim to fame in politics was being the guy that was so far up the coal lobby's arse that he literally brought coal into parliament and waved it around, claiming it doesn't hurt people.
So when a protest was organised it turned out to be one big national fuck you to the Prime Minister, the likes of which the world has never seen before or since.
Needless to say, at this point Scomo's career was dead in the water, but thanks to the rules brought in to stop Australian political parties from knifing their leader every two weeks (a popular Aussie passtime) Morrison basically couldn't get fired until after the next election.
And so, when the election rolled around in 2022, we decided that was an opportune time to travel over to Hawaii to erect this bad boy tribute to the Prime Minister, on the very beach where Scomo had sat and drank margaritas that one fateful week in December as Australia burned (thanks to @chaser for funding the ticket)
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The biggest male privilege I have so far encountered is going to the doctor.
I lived as a woman for 35 years. I have a lifetime of chronic health issues including chronic pain, chronic fatigue, respiratory issues, and neurodivergence (autistic + ADHD). There's so much wrong with my body and brain that I have never dared to make a single list of it to show a doctor because I was so sure I would be sent directly to a psychologist specializing in hypochondria (sorry, "anxiety") without getting a single test done.
And I was right. Anytime I ever tried to bring up even one of my health issues, every doctor's initial reaction was, at best, to look at me with doubt. A raised eyebrow. A seemingly casual, offhand question about whether I'd ever been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder. Even female doctors!
We're not talking about super rare symptoms here either. Joint pain. Chronic joint pain since I was about 19 years old. Back pain. Trouble breathing. Allergy-like reactions to things that aren't typically allergens. Headaches. Brain fog. Severe insomnia. Sensitivity to cold and heat.
There's a lot more going on than that, but those were the things I thought I might be able to at least get some acknowledgement of. Some tests, at least. But 90% of the time I was told to go home, rest, take a few days off work, take some benzos (which they'd throw at me without hesitation), just chill out a bit, you'll be fine. Anxiety can cause all kinds of odd symptoms.
Anyone female-presenting reading this is surely nodding along. Yup, that's just how doctors are.
Except...
I started transitioning about 2.5 years ago. At this point I have a beard, male pattern baldness, a deep voice, and a flat chest. All of my doctors know that I'm trans because I still haven't managed to get all the paperwork legally changed, but when they look at me, even if they knew me as female at first, they see a man.
I knew men didn't face the same hurdles when it came to health care, but I had no idea it was this different.
The last time I saw my GP (a man, fairly young, 30s or so), I mentioned chronic pain, and he was concerned to see that it wasn't represented in my file. Previous doctors hadn't even bothered to write it down. He pushed his next appointment back to spend nearly an hour with me going through my entire body while I described every type of chronic pain I had, how long I'd had it, what causes I was aware of. He asked me if I had any theories as to why I had so much pain and looked at me with concerned expectation, hoping I might have a starting point for him. He immediately drew up referrals for pain specialists (a profession I didn't even know existed till that moment) and physical therapy. He said depending on how it goes, he may need to help me get on some degree of disability assistance from the government, since I obviously shouldn't be trying to work full-time under these circumstances.
Never a glimmer of doubt in his eye. Never did he so much as mention the word "anxiety".
There's also my psychiatrist. He diagnosed me with ADHD last year (meeting me as a man from the start, though he knew I was trans). He never doubted my symptoms or medical history. He also took my pain and sleep issues seriously from the start and has been trying to help me find medications to help both those things while I go through the long process of seeing other specialists. I've had bad reactions to almost everything I've tried, because that's what always happens. Sometimes it seems like I'm allergic to the whole world.
And then, just a few days ago, the most shocking thing happened. I'd been wondering for a while if I might have a mast cell condition like MCAS, having read a lot of informative posts by @thebibliosphere which sounded a little too relatable. Another friend suggested it might explain some of my problems, so I decided to mention it to the psychiatrist, fully prepared to laugh it off. Yeah, a friend thinks I might have it, I'm not convinced though.
His response? That's an interesting theory. It would be difficult to test for especially in this country, but that's no reason not to try treatments and see if they are helpful. He adjusted his medication recommendations immediately based on this suggestion. He's researching an elimination diet to diagnose my food sensitivities.
I casually mentioned MCAS, something routinely dismissed by doctors with female patients, and he instantly took the possibility seriously.
That's it. I've reached peak male privilege. There is nothing else that could happen that could be more insane than that.
I literally keep having to hold myself back from apologizing or hedging or trying to frame my theories as someone else's idea lest I be dismissed as a hypochondriac. I told the doctor I'd like to make a big list of every health issue I have, diagnosed and undiagnosed, every theory I've been given or come up with myself, and every medication I've tried and my reactions to it - something I've never done because I knew for a fact no doctor would take me seriously if they saw such a list all at once. He said it was a good idea and could be very helpful.
Female-presenting people are of course not going to be surprised by any of this, but in my experience, male-presenting people often are. When you've never had a doctor scoff at you, laugh at you, literally say "I won't consider that possibility until you've been cleared by a psychologist" for the most mundane of health problems, it might be hard to imagine just how demoralizing it is. How scary it becomes going to the doctor. How you can internalize the idea that you're just imagining things, making a big deal out of nothing.
Now that I'm visibly a man, all of my doctors are suddenly very concerned about the fact that I've been simply living like this for nearly four decades with no help. And I know how many women will have to go their whole lives never getting that help simply because of sexism in the medical field.
If you know a doctor, show them this story. Even if they are female. Even if they consider themselves leftists and feminists and allies. Ask them to really, truly, deep down, consider whether they really treat their male and female patients the same. Suggest that the next time they hear a valid complaint from a male patient, imagine they were a woman and consider whether you'd take it seriously. The next time they hear a frivolous-sounding complaint from a female patient, imagine they were a man and consider whether it would sound more credible.
It's hard to unlearn these biases. But it simply has to be done. I've lived both sides of this issue. And every doctor insists they treat their male and female patients the same. But some of the doctors astonished that I didn't get better care in the past are the same doctors who dismissed me before.
I'm glad I'm getting the care I need, even if it is several decades late. And I'm angry that it took so long. And I'm furious that most female-presenting people will never have this chance.
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pairing: lando norris x fem!australian!reader [no faceclaim]
summary: honestly, you kind of expected this part-time gig to just be four days of pure chaos that gave you an excuse to see an f1 race up close. then some guy in the fanzone complimented your shoes, and the rest is history.
notes: requested by anon!! this has been sitting in my drafts for aaaaages, sorry love <3 y'all are so brave for putting up with me while i try and remember how tf to write these uhhh yeah this one took a turn hope u like it anyway LMFAO
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ausgp Arriving in style! The lads looked great at the Melbourne Walk today 🤩🤩
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username1 lewis and zhou are absolutely slaying!! and oscar is also there
ynusername oscar i love you but you gotta step up your game mate, i wanna wear your merch so bad but it is UGLY!!
landonorris excuse me ausgp i think my fit was deserving of recognition in this post :(
ausgp Can't compete with the hometown hero 🤷♂️
landonorris but daniel isn't in this either ?
oscarpiastri You're funny.
landonorris
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landonorris he shoots, he scores! thanks for such a warm welcome melbourne :)
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oscarpiastri You and I have different definitions of scoring I think
landonorris ever heard of playing the long game?
oscarpiastri Nurse he's out again
username2 where's the worker with the shoes i think they're indirecting her
username3 GET THIS MAN THE SHOE LADY'S DIGITS
maxfewtrell Now that's just uncalled for
ausgp Love to see the spirit 😉
username4 aww lando always looks so happy in melbourne, he loves it here :'))
ynusername oh wtf
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ynusername busy busy busy day, absolutely buggered, but very excited for tomorrow 😁 (also peep The Shoes on the last slide)
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yourfriend i mean... he's right, they are sick shoes
ynusername you're just saying that cos you made me buy them
yourfriend well yes!
username5 omg are u the girl who was working the fanzone today??
ynusername i was one of them!
username6 ok if this is the shoe lady i don't blame lando for staring she's so pretty omg
yourfriend "the shoe lady"
ynusername i've been titled?????
ynusername
liked by yourfriend, landonorris, and others
ynusername weirdest work day ever (included today's shoes bc apparently it's a thing now)
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yourfriend that wrap was good as hell tho
ynusername deffo the most exciting part of lunch
username7 wait who is this girl and why does lando follow her?
username8 go to lovestruckln on twitter, she has a whole thread about it!
landonorris ...weird in a good way, right?
username9 your lack of rizz is astounding lando
username10 bro STAND UP
ynusername weird in an interesting way
landonorris i'll take that
landonorris
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landonorris melb, you have my ❤️
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username11 SHOE GIRLLLLLL
username12 i hope they never hard launch and he just keeps posting pics of cool sneakers
georgerussell63 You're welcome
charles_leclerc You did it, you crazy son of a bitch
ausgp Where's our credit??
georgerussell63 You put the pieces in play, I moved them into checkmate
ynusername you threw a shoe at me. calm down.
ausgp He what???
username13 bro's collecting aussies like infinity stones
danielricciardo ??
oscarpiastri No
ynusername ://
landonorris 😁😁
ynusername you're cool ig 🙄
landonorris your swag style and utter disdain for me has captured my heart
ynusername oh my god stop i'm blushing
tagging: @thearchieves @sheridamn @nikfigueiredo @charlig123456789 @ilove-tswizzle @aandreea2005 @sideboobrry @vellicora @eire-the-egg @marymustdie @cocote1410 @taygrls @koalapastries @vroomvroommuppett @nichmeddar @d3kstar @333kiki @ririyulife @resident-swiftie @zimm04 @jupiter-je-taime
@ever_bizzare @clemswrld @hollieeelol @leireggsworld @ironmaiden1313 @lunar-racing @lightninginab0ttle @maddie-naps @bwddermilch @pnkwhskyprncss @landossainz @chaotic_version
request: hiya! i love how funny your smau’s are and i’m begging for an aussie!reader x Lando one. maybe she works for the AusGP and they met in Melbourne? idk -anon
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#f1#f1 smau#f1 social media au#f1 x reader#instagram au#f1 imagine#lando norris imagine#f1 instagram au#social media au#lando norris au#saturn writes
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Crushing on You || Slytherin Boys
type :: fluff
tw/cw :: none
contains :: draco malfoy, tom riddle, mattheo riddle, theodore nott, lorenzo berkshire
summary :: cute little loser things they do because they’re so down bad for you. inspired by the fucking masterpiece that is ONE DAY ONE NIGHTTTT AHHHHHH by bts ofc. some of these might be creepy but I think they’re cute
DRACO MALFOY
It’s always an enemies to lovers for him, he literally cannot get crushes on someone unless he hates their guts
Probably cause he got daddy issue but meh, we’re not solving that today
He HATED your guts, he has literally thought of getting a hit-man on you before
You’re his rival in every single aspect, even more than Harry is
Academics, you’re better
Athletics, you’re better
Clubs and community, you’re WAY better
He hates you and makes fun of you every single day and time he gets the chance
Even worse, Harry, Hermione, and Ron all come to defend you which makes him even more mad
But overtime, his aggressive staring and cursing under his breath turned into admiration
It all started when one day during Quidditch practice, some annoying 3rd year thought it would funny to mess with Draco’s broom
He ended up malfunctioning during practice, almost speeding into the walls of the school at astounding speeds
But luckily, you came just in time and yanked him off his broom, letting his broon get destroyed into the castle. But he was unharmed and was wrapped securely in your arms
From then on, he’s had a huge crush on you and all of his hatred turned into admiration
His aggressive stares were a bit softer and his insults had a hidden compliment in it
Everyone thinks that maybe he just feels bad and is finally regretting how rude he’s been to you, which is kinda true
He’s always watching over you, kinda like a stalker (because he is one)
He learns your daily routine, your favorite foods, clothing brands, makeup products, skincare routine, everything
Goes as far to hire and pay different students to watch after you if he’s busy
Somehow, you never notice and just think that people are nosy
He takes his research really far though, like straight up creepy
Draco gets his hands on all of your medical history, every single thing about you
He learns what your allergic too, what your rising sign is, how much you weigh at every check up
When he finds out that you’re anemic, he crushes up pills and sneakily adds it to your food to make sure you’re healthy
Does this with other things too, like Vitamin C, iron pills, etc etc etc
But in the end, it helps you a lot and makes you feel much better
And it makes him happy to know that you’re better because of him
One day, you get asked out by none other than Harry Potter
Instantly, Draco is enraged and everything in his sight is going to die a painful death
He feels betrayed by you despite treating you like utter shit for so many years
Not the mention he’s also gotten with maybe two or three other girls
He plans to ruin your date and he succeed
He burns Harry’s outfit, posses someone to spill hot tea on you, and even goes as far to sneak food you’re allergic to into your food
The date ends with you crying back to your dorm and Harry beating himself up
From this, Draco is happy and prepares to come and play knight-in-shining armor for you
But once again, he sees Harry comforting you and giving you a tight hug
Draco is literally about to kill Harry for this, cause ain’t no way he just did ALL of that for Harry to swoop in again
“You can’t take her! I loved her first! I love her more than your stupid four-eyed could ever!” He shouts at Harry
So yeah…. He just confessed out of rage
TOM RIDDLE
Never ever EVER will he get caught lacking for someone
This man keeps all of his lovey dovey feelings to himself, bro literally got a diary 😭
But when he saw you, and just like all of those dumb movies he’s seen, he was instantly love struck by you
He never knew that this was possible, he’s instantly disgusted with himself and does his best to the diminish the crush
But it won’t go away… you’re just perfect in every way
He’s so frustrated that he genuinely thinks of just killing you
But, thank GOD, he decides to not kill you and just become a stalker 😊
He finds out your entire schedule and walking path just so he can get small glimpses of you
Whenever you see him or make eye contact with him, he looks at you like you killed his entire family and he’s coming for revenge
But he’s actually drooling and hearing the most beautiful classical piano in the background
He sees you as a god/goddess that blessed him with your presence
Tom has always seen himself as the chosen one, the one given enough power to destroy and fix the world
And he sees you as his future Queen to the brand new world he will make :) kinda romanticccc
Finds all of your social media and stalks it for hours
He makes one of those fake burner accounts that looks like a bot
So when he follows you, you think nothing of it
But in reality, he’s watching you in depth
Bro finds your SPOTIFY and YOUR AO3 ACCOUNT… That’s how crazy he is
He made an entire playlist of every song you’ve ever posted and mentioned
He listens to it daily :)
Honestly, he’s just like me fr
He’s just a lil crazy and wants to know EVERYTHING about you
If you ever come up to him or are assigned partners, oh my god he’s gonna act so cold
Acts like he hates your guts and despises your existence
But in reality, he’s gonna thank every single religious figure out there for blessing him with allowing him to be in your space
MATTHEO RIDDLE
When he first saw you, he thought you were fine as hell
He was just trying to get into your pants
But when he tried to make a move, you scoffed and shoved him away
Instantly, he was attracted to you
He’s only been rejected like twice, and both times it ended with them begging on their knees for him
He was about to do the exact same thing to you
Unlike the others, he’s the only one that shows it and actively makes a move
Constantly flirts with you, no matter the time or day
Kinda like Filipino courtingggg 🤭
Finds all of your classes and walks you to all of them
Even though you want to walk with your friends, he won’t let you and always pulls you away from them
He skips his classes constantly just so he can be with you and flirt with you more
Even if you keep rejecting him or even slap him, he won’t stop. He loves when girls play hard to get
Sends you flowers, they’re a little bit ugly, but it’s the thought that counts
Sends you chocolates and stuffed animals to the point where a whole section of your dorm is dedicated to the pile of 65 stuffed animals you’ve received
He can’t really write poems or love songs, but he sends you little drawings that are barely readable
He makes little stick figures to represent you guys, one that’s super tall with abs (him) and another one that has hair and a triangle body (you)
Although you can barely understand his chicken scratch drawings, it makes you giggle from how stupid they are
Sometimes it’s him fighting off dragons, or you drowning and he saves you, or him being a rich king and you’re his queen
Never ever gives up on you, no matter what
Will fight off every single competition he has, he doesn’t care if they end up paralyzed
One time, someone older than you guys by one year tried to ask you out
Because he was a grade above you guys, he thought Mattheo wouldn’t fight him
But nopppeeee he was dead wrong, Mattheo sent him to the hospital wing repeatedly for a whole month
Even though the poor guy learned his lesson, Mattheo was mad that not only did he have the balls to ask you out but to also doubt Mattheo’s strength
Surprisingly, he cares a lot towards your friends as well and never leaves him out of the picture which is sweet
If you get a 100 roses from him (an almost daily occurrence), then he’ll get your best friends a small bouquet of 10-12 roses in return
If you get a huge chocolate box of the most expensive chocolates, then your friends get a small little wrapped box of a few chocolates
It’s really sweet and it makes your friends see that he’s actually pretty cool and sweet
Definitely goes around and lies to people by saying you two are dating
Eventually, everyone is fucking tired of you guys and basically sees you as a couple
One day, your friends say they’re gonna have a girls day and ask you to meet them at this nice restaurant
But surprise! The girls lied, you got all dressed up for nothing :(
But surprise again! Mattheo pops up. Your friends set you up with him to help you two to finally start dating
THEODORE NOTT
He’s had plenty of one night stands, weird situation-ships, and more but with you, he’s never had that
You’ve been his friend for ages, before he got hot and ripped
And he appreciated you a lot for that, he felt like he could finally be himself with someone
Over the years, he’s slowly gotten more and more comfortable with you
When he was going to bed, he thought to himself “I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)”
He smiled as he said that, about to sleep until his eyes shot wide open as he repeated what he said
“I wouldn’t mind marrying (y/n)??!???!!?”
When he realized he likes you, he’s a complete idiot
Normally with girls, he’s super smooth and charismatic - but that’s only because he’s trying to get into their pants
With you, you knew all his tactics and how awful of a person he can and HAS been over the years
You’ve seen him cheat, yell, and sometimes be borderline abusive to his past girlfriends
He starts to worry about how you perceive him and wants to make sure he seems like a good option
He becomes so awkward around you, it’s painful
Starts to be way nicer to you than he ever has been and becomes a lot more chivalrous
He takes off his jacket and shields you from rain, if anyone teases you he’ll get really defensive, he spoon feeds you at times, always pays for your lunch and dinner
Even goes as far as to take you on shopping sprees with no limit - even if you say no he’ll just keep track of everything you look at and buy it for you
Gets you flowers every week and always excuses it as “this is what best friends always do”
You two are basically dating… just without an official title
He’s TERRIFIEDDDD to ask, he’s literally had break downs over his fear of you rejecting him
Please just confess to him yourself, I’m not sure when he’ll get the balls and confidence to do it
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
He’s the most sane out of all of them all 😭
Literally the one line from Taylor Swift, “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” AHAAAAHHHHH
He gets a crush on you after you two are partnered for a long term project
Loves how smart and dedicated you are, it inspires him to be the same way
Sometimes he purposely acts dumb just so that you’ll help him
Always pays attention to the small details and everything you do
Spoils you ROTTEN omg
Will take you out to go shopping with him and he whips out his black card and casually drops 25k just on clothes and makeup for you
He loves the feeling of spoiling you, makes him feel like your future husband
Praises you for everything, even the bare minimum
“Woah! I like your outfit!” And you’re literally wearing the required school uniform
He wants to date you and call you his own, but he knows he’s a fuck boy deep down
Every time he’s dated a girl, he’s ended up breaking up with them because he can’t commit or just straight up cheating on them
He’s very confident that he could change and be better, but he wants to be perfect before he dares you
Because he sees you as perfect :”) and you only deserve the best
You help motivate him to become better, even though you didn’t know you did
Starts going to the gym, works harder in school, tries to be more nice to everyone
Eventually, he’ll get the guts to ask you out for the Yule ball but he’ll keep saying you’re going as “friends”
But one day you’ll overhear him and his group talking about how fat of a crush he has on you
They all tease him and call him a simp, loverboy, everything
But when he sees that you’ve been listening the entire time, he’s so reddddd
Tries to hide his face and runs away, he avoids you for a little bit
He’s so so so scared of not being good enough or even ruining his relationship with you
He’d genuinely be okay with just being your best friend for all his life whilst loving you, even though it would hurt him so badly
Please just accept this boy 🙏 tell this man he’s enough and that you love him
read more here! :D
#harry potter#harry potter x reader#draco malfoy#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#draco x y/n#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle x y/n#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo x y/n#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore x reader#lorenzo berkshire#lorenzo berkshire x reader#lorenzo x reader#slytherin#slytherin boys#fluff#crush#harry potter headcanon
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Whipped Like A Motherfu- (Older!Damian Wayne x Reader)
Description: The boys never thought it was possible for their youngest brother to have a soft spot for a woman. Or a soft spot in general. So how will they react when they witness their brother being lovey-dovey first-hand?
This was requested by @beatriceshadowmarvel2 so enjoy!!!
The only warning I got for this is that it has explicit language.
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Damian could be hot-headed. And very irritable. Also not to mention annoying at times. Overall he was a complete dick to almost everyone around him. Keyword: Almost. There was one person he would never and could never show any harsh emotions towards. The love of his life, the one he'd die for, the one he'd kill for. You.
The two of you had met during an attempted robbery. But not in the way one would probably assume. It was Damian who was getting robbed, not you. For obvious reasons, Damian could handle himself in these situations. But also for obvious reasons, Damian is the one who usually initiates the attack. It's been a while since he's been jumped out of nowhere. So he was a bit rusty on his reflexes.
You, on the other, had grown up on the rough side of Gotham so you had gotten a headstart on having your reflexes in tip-top shape. At the time of the incident, you had a fresh can of mace. You were walking past when you noticed the man get struck on the back of the head and were taken aback by surprise. On instinct, you reached into your purse and whipped out the black can. Then the rest was history.
That was approximately two years, six months, five weeks, and twenty-two days ago. It was that long ago since Damian realized that he could never love and long someone as much as he did you. But somehow, after all this time, you're finally meeting the infamous Wayne. His family.
And he was not excited.
"Of course, I'm not going to be excited, sweetheart. You didn't have to live with them for eight years of your life and for another two, having to meet up with them for every fucking holiday to exist." Damian scowled as you flipped his eggs onto a plate. He had just entered the kitchen and sat down at the bar of your shared apartment.
You turned around, one hand on your hip and the other lying his plate in front of him.
"C'mon Dami. They can't be that bad if you didn't run away." You offered, running your hands through your boyfriend's messy hair. He picked up his black coffee and muttered:
"Trust me. I tried."
You sighed and kissed his cheek, his freshly shaved jaw still having shaving cream in random areas of his face. "Did your father ever teach you how to shave?" You chuckled, wiping a smidge of cream off his face. You walked out of the kitchen and stood next to him, silently urging him to eat.
He grumbled something Arabic before grabbing your hips and pulling you down to his level. He started rubbing his cheek against yours, which usually you would be fine with. If shaving cream still wasn't on Damian's face.
"Damian! I was finally ready to go and now my makeup is ruined! I think you got some on my sweater, too!" You whined as he let out a laugh. He pulled away and stared into your eyes, his hands on both sides of your face. His green eyes kept observing each little feature you had on your face. The confused posture on your lips. The twitch of your nose as words came out of your mouth but he could only focus on your face.
"You don't need makeup, my love. You don't need anything to change how you look. You're already the most beautiful thing to bless this Earth." Damian said mindlessly, staring into your eyes.
You chuckled, confused about what made Damian come to those words or thoughts. "I'm not too sure what you mean by that, Dami. But I love you as well.". You stood up to your full height and tried removing the shaving cream from your sweater. "But not as much as I love looking presentable for your family so they don't think I'm a South Side junkie." You announced while walking back to your bedroom.
After your little situation was fixed, the two of you left the penthouse and started your thirty-minute journey to Wayne Manor. The drive gave you time to publicise your concerns.
"Dami, what if they think I'm not good enough for you? Or what if they think I'm using you for money? It doesn't help that I'm from the poorest side of Gotham and possibly the entire fucking country. Should I swear in front of them? I know they're all guys and probably swear worse than me but they-" Your rambling was cut off when your boyfriend kissed you right on the lips.
"Damian! You're driving, from the last time I checked. That's how people crash and die from a cell stroke or something." You reprimanded. Damian only chuckled and removed his hand from the wheel of his favorite Corvette.
"One: This is the car that was partnered with Wayne Enterprises to create the first self-driving sports car. It was in Hands-Off mode, sweetheart. Two: You can't die from a cell stroke because there is no such thing. Three: They'll love you I promise. Because if they don't, I can guarantee they will die a slow and pai-".
"That's enough, love. I'll stick to them not liking me." You compromised, knowing it was the best option as you were aware of Damian's threats becoming a reality.
"That's the thing, Y/n. There shouldn't be a reason for them not to like you. You're beautiful, both book and street smart, and the kindest person to ever walk this Earth." Damian was about to continue his rant about how much you were worth when he noticed he was already parked outside the place he too wasn't sure how to feel about.
A part of him wanted to walk in and reminisce on the memories of his youth. The other part of him wanted to drive his car into the side of the house (without you in it, of course), put it in self-destruct mode, and blow the house into pieces.
"I'm gonna fucking kill myself." Damian groaned as he put the car in park. You glanced at him as his face contorted into one of horror as he stared at the now wide-open door.
Four grown men walked out of the door, a prideful aura radiating off them. Damian's eye twitched as he swung the car door open and flicked them off before they even got the chance to utter a word to him. He made his way to your side of the car and opened the door for you.
He reached his hand out to you and helped you out of the car. You readjusted your skirt and reassess your outfit choice.
'Does this make me look like a hooker?' You wondered to yourself as the group approached your boyfriend and yourself.
"Wow. Little demon managed to find a girl that will put up with his attitude. And he... opened the door for her?" The one who you knew was Dick Grayson and your boyfriend's oldest brother. Only because he was on the best terms with Damian that he actually talked about him. But not in the brotherly way people would consider.
"Fucking Grayson. He's always showing off."
"Dick? Just assume the name comes with the job"
"I will not talk to him. Just because he's my brother and helped me out when I was younger doesn't mean I forgot he threw up all over me when he got shitfaced the last time I saw him."
"Guys, don't tell me the spawn of Satan himself actually learned manners and pulled a good-looking chick. I think I'm gonna cry." The one next to Dick wiped fake tears from his eyes. Damian's scowl deepened.
"Here's an idea, Jason. Go fuck yourself." Damian retorted. The new speaker, Jason, rolled his eyes and chuckled. He was the first to approach you formally and stuck his hand out.
"Hey, I'm Jason, Damian's older, hotter, and smarter brother so if he fucks up, you know where to find me," Jason smirked while you shook his hand.
"I'm Y/n. I would gladly take your offer if I didn't know Damian would never fuck up." You replied back, silently wincing at your use of vulgar language.
But instead of sneering at you or commenting your foul language was 'unladylike', Jason howled in laughter and shrugged.
"Offer still stands. Your accent. You grow up on South Side?" He asked, crossing his arms after you dropped his hand. You nervously glanced at Damian, who nodded in affirmation.
"Yep. Born and raised. How'd you figure it out? I'm usually pretty good at hiding it. That and I don't go around at night, begging for a cigarette and three cents in change."
"I'm from there too. At least before Buck-for-Fuck here adopted me. Grew up on Crack row or whatever it's called by the rich." Jason shifted his gaze to his brother. "You got a good one, Demon. You already know how we turn out." He gestured to himself with up and down hand motions.
"It's a good thing she got out before you, then."
"Fuck you, man."
Jason whimpered in fake pain before being shoved out of the way by Dick and the other brother. Dick introduced himself to you in a very formal way, starting it off by kissing your hands.
Damian did not take it well. He pushed Dick's cheek away from your knuckles. "At least ask her first. Don't you have any self-dignity?" Dick frowned but backed off nonetheless. "My bad, little man. I-", the first thing you've picked up from this family is they don't seem to let each other finish as you watched Dick get shoved by his father, who was clearly embarrassed.
You didn't need an introduction from Bruce motherfucking Wayne. 1. He owns the biggest technology company in the world. 2: It's Bruce Wayne. He's probably the one person on the planet who doesn't need to introduce himself. And he knew that too.
But he introduced himself anyways.
"Hello, Y/n. I'm Damian's father, Bruce. I've heard a lot of things about you." Bruce held his hand out as you shook it respectfully. You glanced at Damian, who scoffed at his father.
"All good things I hope, Mr Wayne." Bruce grimaced when you spoke. "Please call me Bruce, dear. Mr Wayne makes me feel as if I was alive when the Civil War was still being considered." Jason snickered before saying, "You probably were. You'd think with the amount of money you earn, you could afford getting rid of those crow's feet." Damian rolled his eyes at his family's antics before pointing at the last brother that wasn't introduced.
"The emo one who hasn't said a word is Tim. He's a bit odd and stays in his room jacking off or playing with Father's computers." Damian wrapped an arm around you as he explained his brother's habits. Tim's face became stoic as Damian shrugged.
"I hope all your stocks drop completely," Tim grumbled, brushing the hair out of his eyes. Damian's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to send a comeback towards his brother before Bruce chuckled nervously.
"Why don't we all go inside and catch up? Also so we don't embarrass ourselves even more in front of Y/n." The boys seemed to all agree and Damian and yourself followed the rest of the family inside.
After settling down inside the manor's living room, Bruce poured you a cup of tea and sat down in between Jason and Dick, Tim sat on the floor, and Damian and yourself sat on the couch.
"So Y/n. Tell us more about yourself. You didn't seem to have any time to do to certain people in the family. You said you were from South Side, right?" Jason clapped his hands and hollered. Bruce gave him a nasty side-eye while Dick slapped his chest.
"I think the more important question is... how the fuck someone like Damian ended up with a sweet little angel like yourself," Tim spoke while drinking something that obviously wasn't tea. Your boyfriend's frown deepened.
"I wouldn't call her a little angel, Timmy. We met because she maced a guy trying to rob me." Jason jumped out of his seat and started a handshake that was created for South Siders to identify each other with. Surprisingly, you still remember the whole thing.
"That's what I'm fucking talking about! You make everyone who still lives in Shitville proud!" Damian pushed Jason back into his seat before pinching the bridge of his nose.
"Please refrain from tainting her with your filthy hands." Damian had little spurts where he would switch from casually talking to someone to as if he was talking to the president. Of course, Jason had a knack for making fun of it.
"My dearest apologies, my lord. May I offer my condolences for my idiotic acts?" Jason bowed from his seat.
"Okay, we can try this again. Please don't fucking touch her with your nasty ass hands that we all know you 'forget' to wash. The next time any one of you touches her without her permission, I'll be sure the Lazarus pit can't bring you back to life." Damian snapped. It suddenly became quiet despite the conversation being between two people.
Although it was only two sentences, it was enough to leave the family of undercover heroes speechless. Not about the fact that the youngest member snapped at them. No, they've gotten used to that.
It's the fact he snapped at them over a girl, let alone anyone else in general.
Jason's jaw was slacked and his eyes were wide in surprise. Tim had lost all his secret stash of alcohol as he not only spit out the liquor in his mouth but his water bottle dropped onto the shiny floors. Dick's face was stoic as he processed the fact that his baby brother could actually care about someone as much as he cared about himself. Maybe more.
Bruce's expression was possibly the hardest not to laugh at. His eyes were wide, an eyebrow was arched, and overall just looked weirded out.
Damian groaned in irritation and his fingers twitched in annoyance. He tapped your thigh a few times and stood up with your hand in his. "We're gonna head to my room and sleep off the bullshit from today. Don't bother us." Damian dragged you along like a lost puppy up one of the many staircases throughout the mansion and disappeared behind the thick walls of the hall. Not before hearing:
"Use protection, please! We don't need any more demon spawns running around when we have Damian and Jason!" "Fuck you, Bruce!"
Bonus:
You laid on Damian's bare chest, his pecs acting like a pillow for your head. Your legs intertwined with his and your hands were in the pockets of his black sweatpants.
You were fast asleep, the warmth from his upper body acting as a sedative for comfort. But Damian wasn't asleep. He couldn't fall asleep. Not while admiring the beautiful soul on his chest.
He ran his calloused fingers through your hair, dismissing the tangles in your hair by prying his fingers apart at the ends of each strand. He knew you'd be pissed about the sudden frizziness when you woke up but he didn't care. Not when he'd at least hear your voice.
"Words cannot describe how much I love you, Y/n. You saved me more than the day we met with your can of mace. You changed me and I will always be grateful for your love and affection towards someone like me." He whispered into your ear. He kept whispering poetic words into your sleeping ears. He suddenly stopped when he heard a creak from the corner of the room.
His vision sharpened to see into the darkness of his old room and immediately reached over to his nightstand and switched his lamp on. It illuminated the room just enough to see his family in the corner of his room, recording the scene in front of them.
Damian wrapped his arms around your waist and gave the nastiest glare possible towards the boys. Tim was about to say something, maybe lighten up the approaching argument but Damian brought a finger up to his pursed lips.
"If you wake her up, I will play tic-tac-toe on your throats with my katana." He blankly threatened.
Dick realized there wasn't any bluffing behind his brother's threat, as he had doubted threats from Damian before and that's how he ended up with thumbtacks in his ass and tried to escape the impending doom.
Jason, on the other hand, wanted to see the world burn and tripped his older brother, causing him to trip and eat shit. A thud echoed throughout the room, causing you to stir in your sleep.
"Dami? What was that?" A dagger was whipped out of the nightstand and held by Damian in a way with the intent to throw it at an unsuspecting victim. "Nothing, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep, okay beautiful?" You drifted back to sleep as if under a spell, your hands now on his defined chest.
There was a brief moment of silence that gave Damian time to admire the love of his life. That was until Jason decided to open his mouth.
"Dude, you're whipped like a motherfu-"
A knife flew across the room and landed right next to Jason's head.
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This is the first thing I've written in almost a year so lmk if it's ass or gas. BUT KEEP SENDING IN REQUESTS I LOVE HEARING OTHER PEOPLE'S IDEAS!!!
#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne#dick grayson#dc x reader#older!damian wayne x reader#damian fluff#protective damian wayne#im gonna bomb myself
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Sanji is a lightweight.
He can't hold his liquor for shit despite his failed attempts to hide it from everyone else. The signs are obvious — the flushed cheeks, the hooded eyes, and the constant smile on his face that remains even if he's not talking to a lady. He prances around the room, socializing and laughing at every little thing, from the cool summer breeze tickling his cheeks to Usopp's tamest of wild stories.
He's also very physically affectionate. When he'd usually reject a hug from Luffy's impossibly long outstretched arms, intoxicated Sanji would welcome the embrace with glee. Chopper is rained with little kisses on his head every time he does anything remarkably cute (which is all the time). And he's seen playing with Robin's fingers absentmindedly as he listens to her talk about the ancient history of a forgotten world.
But there's also one thing Sanji becomes when he's had one too many drinks in his system...
He gets... honest.
Sanji on a normal day is blunt and calculated. He calls things out as he sees it yet still knows how to use his words to twist something to his advantage. Like how he knows how to appease Luffy when he gets adamant over food. Or how he somehow convinces Usopp to do something he'd normally be too afraid to do.
Drunk Sanji is a different kind of honest. Drunk Sanji is honest about things he never even utters if he was even a lick sober.
And Zoro? Oh, he's always been the one to bare witness to Sanji's honesty.
Zoro likes to think of himself as an honest man. He can omit the truth every now and then for someone's safety or to preserve their blissful ignorance, but most of the time he doesn't see any reason to lie. If he finds you annoying, he'll say it. To hell with your damn feelings about it.
But though he values honesty and trust, he sure can hide the truth. Because his own feelings take the back burner. He can't be emotionally charged when lives are on the line. He can't let his heart win out when his brain tells him it's a bad idea. He can trust a gut feeling but never the tug of his own heartstrings.
So witnessing Sanji's honesty — so rooted in the tresses of his stupidly big emotional heart — always has Zoro freezing in place. He can't handle it. But he can't push him away either.
He can hide his true feelings but by all four seas, he can't ever push them far enough away for him to ignore them.
For the embarrassing truth of it all is that every time Sanji looks at him, smiles at him, laughs with him, or even fights with him — Zoro is irrevocably, unequivocally, and detrimentally smitten with the curly browed cook.
He doesn't remember when (somewhere between Little Garden and Thriller Bark... who knows, really...) but he definitely remembers waking up one day and wanting to see Sanji first thing in the morning. He remembers the rapid beating of his heart when the man prepared his comfort dishes when Zoro was having a rough day. He remembers the sparks of electric fire seeping to his bones from a single touch, a brush of fingertips against his scalp with a whispered 'you need a haircut marimo', the ice cold chill that runs down his spine of watching this stupid blonde man attempt to sacrifice his life over and over again to save his friends. All these feelings he remembers and dreads and looks forward to all at the same time.
All come crashing down upon him until he's stuck beneath a mountain of untapped, unrealized, unacknowledged feelings — all because Sanji decided that for today's party he will hold Zoro's hand, and guide him to the galley so they could be alone.
Alone.
"Marimoooo," Sanji sings, a light giggle cutting off the prolonged syllable, and Zoro has to actively remember not to crumble. He grips the edge of the kitchen counter, his knuckle turning white, with the other hand desperately clinging to a cheap bottle of sake.
"Auditioning for a musical, cook?" Zoro teases and Sanji sticks his tongue out at him. Zoro, despite all he's holding back, allows himself to chuckle.
"Shut the fudge up, dumb green haired muscle head doofus." (New note: when drunk enough, Sanji physically cannot swear.) He jabs a finger at Zoro's chest, unaware of the invisible mark he's left on his heart. "I wanted to tell you something, stupid."
"Can't it wait until you're sober and can kick my ass properly?" Zoro's deflecting and he damn well knows it. But Drunk Sanji is so unfairly adorable that if he lets him talk more, he might do something Sober Sanji would hate him for forever.
"I donwanna kick your ass!" Sanji throws his hands up exasperatedly. "No no no no thas' not important..."
"What could possibly–" When Zoro chanced a glance at Sanji, he stopped mid sentence. Hooded blue eyes were gazing at him intensely, an ocean of possibilities, a high tide of emotions washing onto the shore. Zoro can't look away. He wants to. He needs to. But he can't. Like a capsized ship at the edge of a whirlpool, Sanji's gaze sucks Zoro in with no pause for mercy.
Mercy that Zoro refuses to call out for.
"Zoro," He says it with a low tone, a soft voice, and with a breathiness he's never heard his name be uttered through before.
He feels Sanji's hand on top of his own before he could let go of the counter. He looks down and the man is tracing his scars. The ones faded overtime and the ones that are freshly closed over. There's a band-aid on his thumb that he's forgotten to remove from a week ago. Sanji's own delicate but kitchen worn fingers run over his knuckles. Each feather light touch sends electric shocks through his veins, a rushing heat that no shot of alcohol could recreate.
Zoro, despite everything his mind is telling him to do, turns his hand over and lets Sanji slip his fingers through and press their palms together.
They're closer now. He doesn't remember when that happened. But Sanji's face is so close, he could count the eyelashes fluttering gently between wakefulness and dreaming if he wanted to. He desperately did. Instead, his other hand raised up to cup Sanji's ever alcohol flushed cheeks, and feels his heart burst with the gentle smile Sanji gives him in return.
"Did you know?" Sanji whispers, thumb rubbing over a particularly nasty scar on the back of Zoro's hand.
"What?" Zoro indulges him. Just this once. "What don't I know?"
Sanji's smile brightens. He rests a hand on Zoro's chest. He feels Zoro's beating heart beneath his palm. Then he looks up, eyes twinkling with a simple but powerful emotion. Zoro's only seen him look like that once before. Back when it was just the five of them from the East Blue, their borrowed ship from Syrup Village, and their feet on a barrel promising to achieve their dreams.
Pure and utter joy.
"Did you know... that I'm so happy that you're my friend?"
Zoro's breath hitches and Sanji hiccups, sudden tears flowing down his cheeks. He doesn't attempt to hide them or wipe them away. Zoro feels them fall onto his chest as he watches Sanji cry with the biggest smile on his face.
"You're the first friend I had that was my age," He continued, bringing Zoro's hand up and nuzzling against his palm. "I never had friends growing up. Was surrounded by old geezers telling me what to do half the time. Joining the crew... This is the best decision I ever made."
Then a faint kiss was placed on every scar Sanji could see on Zoro's hand. Piece by piece, Zoro's resolve crumbled, and he felt tears prickle at the corner of his eye.
"You're my best friend, Zoro. Did I tell you that?"
"No," Zoro whispered. He takes Sanji's other hand and kisses the rough pads of his fingertips too. Sanji watches him, mouth slightly open in a dazed smile. Zoro wonders if he'll remember this in the morning.
"Why haven't I?" Sanji asks him, or perhaps wonders aloud. Zoro just shrugs and keeps kissing up Sanji's hand. With each kiss, Sanji lets out a sigh, gentle and inviting. Zoro chooses not to answer.
"I love having friends," Sanji says stumbling forward slightly at Zoro's ministrations. Zoro catches him before he falls and Sanji throws his arms around him, clutching tightly and giggling so much that he's almost losing breath. "I love having you in my life."
A tear falls down Zoro's cheek. He tightens his hold around the cook and thinks the exact same thing.
Sanji burrows his face into Zoro's shoulder, hiccuping again. "Can we stay like this for a little while?"
"We can stay like this forever, if you want." Like this as in always by your side. Like this as in holding you every time you ask for it. Like this as in who we can be if alcohol didn't make you forget everything you say to me.
"I have to cook tomorrow though." was Sanji's brilliant response and Zoro couldn't help but laugh. He's waited this long for something like this. He can wait until morning for a conversation a little more serious.
"Yeah, cook." Zoro obliges, leading Sanji to the cushioned bench by the dinner table. "We can stay like this for a little while."
"Yay," Sanji cheers softly, his voice already starting to slur. Zoro lets him rest his head on his chest as he curls up and around Zoro like a koala. "Warm."
Time moves by slowly. Zoro's fingers run through silky blond hair as they talk about silly insignificant things. Sanji's giggles get softer and softer. His breathing evens out. Soon enough, Sanji's eyelids have closed and he's sleeping soundly, clinging as tightly as his unconscious body permits onto the swordsman.
Zoro knows that when morning comes, they'll have to talk. But for now, Zoro allows himself to bask in the warmth of Sanji's honesty. Allows himself to let Sanji's genuine gratitude of meeting and joining the straw hat crew wash over him like the gentlest of cool sea breezes after a long and hot day.
And he can be assured, as he drifts off into his own slumber, that Sanji loves him.
And that Zoro loves him too.
inspired by this tweet
#welcome back to the chronicles of niki writing zosan brainrot at 1am and posting it with no context whatsoever#anyway#zosan#one piece#roronoa zoro#sanji#vinsmoke sanji#black leg sanji#zosan fanfic#one piece fanfiction#roronoa zoro x vinsmoke sanji#niki's fic: lightweight love and liquor
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flawless night, forevermore
feat. ayato, baizhu, alhaitham, childe, kaveh, raiden ei ( separate )
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 they are so obviously in love with you
( or, in which i tie them to a taylor song i’ve been crazing over, but you don’t have to know the songs to read / understand )
note. reader’s gender unspecified, no other warnings
> part one / part two ( more characters )
KAMISATO AYATO. lover
His lips curled up with a fathomless fondness he did not even notice about himself. His ticklish gaze, his admiring eyes, his comforting silence—such a poor, poor man drowning in his hopelessness, falling love struck into the night.
Even atop the dewy grass that stained his carefully tailored clothes, he paid no mind to the mess as he preferred to hear you talk instead. The intelligence of a Kamisato was long forgone in the melody of your voice, and perhaps you had strum his heartstrings too much to the point he loses his senses. He forgets a lot of things about himself when he’s with you, perhaps at one point, even his own name.
Kamisato, the name that ties him to a lifetime of formality and not a single night of rest. A dreary lifetime that does not allow him to learn the wonders of love. But oh, how he loves you.
“I’ve always wanted one of those cute little tea tables,” you muttered into the cool winds under the glowing moon. Your finger absentmindedly traced an oval into the air, a motion that had his head following your invisible drawing. “We can sit together in the mornings and have tea before work.”
“Then we’ll get one,” Ayato affirmed. He failed to notice how his own grin had widened, simply as an automatic reaction from seeing your pleased smile at his response. “Little cushions for us to sit in, too,” he added on. “You know those round ones? We can have them in our favorite colors.”
Look at him, blushing over silly cushions.
There’s a dazzling haze in his eyes when he’s like this. It’s a spark that never runs out once ignited, for he has a history of rambling when he’s with you. “There is this porcelain tea set we can get, which has a pattern I know you’ll like,” he’ll say, further jumping to “And it comes in a set of four—we can always invite Ayaka and Thoma over to drink with us.” He’ll go on and on like this, fantasizing of a life where you lived together, happily ever after.
He’s imagined this for eons in his head. Such innocent-presenting ideas and remarks, but it’s obvious in the way he talks so fast. It’s ridiculously evident the more excited he gets as the night stretches on, that he’s been daydreaming of the moment you move in with him, so he may love you every day.
All he asks is to be forever yours, for as long as time permits.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
BAIZHU. sparks fly
It almost never rained in Liyue.
But his words were such a booming thunderstorm that no water droplet could ever compare, even amidst this cold, grey afternoon. And only when he finally blew you away like a thin stack of cards, did he feel a sharp sense of emptiness at the sight of you running off into the pouring rain.
Baizhu admitted that you were a burden to him. Boring, unintelligent, annoying—that you were a hindrance to be around. You were only a distraction to Qiqi, and more importantly, a bothersome presence to him.
It took all his willpower just to spit such venom from his tongue straight to your face—all his might just to convince you that seeing him is a bad idea. And yet, you still called him a liar.
“You mean none of those words,” you sharply inhaled via short, speechless breaths. He could tell you were breaking down from his hateful speech, but to his guilt, it was exactly what he wanted to see from you. “You’re just trying to drive me away again,” you spat out. You were trying to convince yourself: that fact alone was clear to him. But the longer he stayed quiet despite biting back the truth—biting back that he has fallen so immensely deep in love with you—you began to doubt yourself.
But the moment he watched your figure break down past this storm, he immediately crumbled with a sense of guilt much stronger than any curse he has ever wished upon himself.
Perhaps he was too harsh on you. Archons, perhaps he was too mean—this was exactly why he didn’t deserve you. You deserved better than such a sick, lowly man who could not even live for himself, instead binding his life to save others instead.
But still, even after all his own revelations and realization of his nonexistent self worth…
He was still a greedy, selfish man.
And that selfishness had him running right out of his door and into the pouring rain, not caring at how the sudden cold nipped and picked at his skin, or how the winds beat at his frail body. Not even the Archons could halt such a starvation for salvation—it was the only spark he had left to chase.
In this cold, dreary life—in this cold, dreary day alone—you still shone like the sun under the dim streetlights of Liyue upon this pale grey sky. His body still eased the moment you caught his eye, almost as if your gaze alone had suddenly removed every drop of sickness he self-injected into his own bloodstream, or as if you were the cure he was looking for all his life.
Such selfishness once again had his body fighting from collapsing when he desperately fell into your arms that held him so dearly. And the greed of mankind only snapped when found his lips settled so hopelessly against yours, clinging onto your kiss as if he would die tonight.
Truly, maybe he would. But for now, in your embrace, he feels the strongest he’s ever been since he sold his soul.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
ALHAITHAM. enchanted
Archons, he hated these events, though he had no choice but to attend. No one could ever allow the Acting Grand Sage, even if he held so much spite, to escape the demeaning eyes of Sumerean publicity.
Alhaitham held himself as an independent soul. But this formalwear, this clanging of champagne glasses, this suffocating air—were definitely not so independent nor free.
This hall of aspiring young scholars and old men, all in one exhibit for the sake of research and networking. Academics is what they acclaim, but the Acting Grand Sage may be too thick of a personality for them (if he had one at all). But the only thing keeping his eyes open from boredom, quite surprisingly a person, was you.
You, who looked young compared to these much older alumni and long-time scholars. And it was truly you, out of the many faces in this room, who he could not name.
Your eyes met from across the room. Such a sliver of a chance—his eyes whispered a curious glance from the opposite wall among this dreary sea of scholars. There was a spark graced by the Electro Archon, perhaps; or maybe even a gush of wind from the God of Anemo. But every sense of composure was lost when his body moved on its own, walking himself closer and closer just to meet you.
It begins with hello; it always does. It continues with quick remarks, with “I’ve never seen you before,” and with “Have we met?” And soon enough, he feels like he’s in school again. He feels a flutter he has not known in years, an urge to talk quicker than he can think. The crinkle at the corner of your eyes has him immersed in amazement. The sole fact that you can crack a smile at him; a smile that wasn’t fake politeness like all these scholars.
For some reason unbeknownst to him, that expression of yours alone had his feet glued to the floor, like you’ve trapped him in such an engaging conversation he desperately could not let go. It was a forcibly dreadful night—you turned it flawlessly enchanting in a way that you read to him like a book, all in which he could not put you down once he begins.
And once the event ends, and he is forced to leave you so soon, he watches you walk away with an expression that he himself could not even read.
Wonderstuck.
He would never notice the light tint on his face, staining his cheeks all the way home.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
CHILDE. cruel summer
Left foot, right foot, tiptoe, right foot—hold the counter, hold the wall, hold the rail all the way up the steps… He’s got this.
One step down the hall, another foot down, a third one until he finds a steady rhythm. The room is hazy, the walls are spinning. His head hurts and he feels like a baby taking his first steps, so helpless and unsteady that he almost wants to cry again from exasperated frustration alone. Why was this so hard? Did he really hate himself so much, that he would stagger his way home from the bar like this?
One hand on the door, turn the knob, and—
Ah. He dropped his keys so loudly on the floor.
You woke up with a start from the bedside, immediately turning to him wide-eyed in both starling surprise from the noise, and more importantly, concern. He didn’t mean to wake you. He hated feeling guilty, but it was the exact feeling that crept up his spine once he saw the devastated look on your face. Frenzied eyes and dark circles—clearly you had stayed up just to wait for him, too.
“Ajax,” you voiced—a tone full of worry and heavy exhaustion, God, he felt so horrible. “Oh, Ajax, come here.”
As much as he didn’t like it when you cared for him like this, he was not immune to the sounds of your calling. His shaky legs carried him immediately, as if the alcohol in his system was pulling him towards you, too. “I’m fine,” he barely stuttered out. It was a claim he had to make immediately, a sign he was desperate to reassure you.
Your eyes grew heavier, though he did not know if they were lidded from concern or from sleepiness. Either way, he practically melted from the touch of your palms resting against his cheeks. So warm, but a much more pleasant warmth than the burning summer air that he just walked in, all the way home with a liquor-dazed mind.
“Have you been crying…?” Ah, and that was why your eyes were narrow—they were squinting at the sorry stains of tears that lined his cheeks. He forgot to wipe them, it seemed. It was almost laughable.
“No, just sweat from the heat.”
Crying over you… He’d never let you know that. To cry, to bleed, to die—you would never be the first person he tells.
“You reek of liquor…” Quite disgustingly so, he thinks. And yet, you still held his face so fondly, moving his head in such a gentle manner as you swiped his tear stains with the pads of your thumbs.
He stayed silent. He had no answer to this one.
“I love you,” he mutters, though it’s a confession nevertheless. And he says it so sadly—so miserably that you couldn’t help but sigh. He hates it, too. He hates it when you sigh. Because when you sigh, it means you’ll just let it go; No matter how many lies he tells, or how many times he cries, or how many secrets he keeps, you’ll still accept him like always.
“I love you, too.” And that was the worst line he’s ever heard.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
KAVEH. foolish ones
“Oh, woe is me…” Loves me, loves me not, loves me… “Did you happen to see anything in the mailbox?”
His roommate stared. “Go check it yourself.”
Kaveh heavily sighed. He couldn’t; He physically could not bear to do it. It’s not that he was lazy to get up, no. The real issue was the genuine grief he would feel when he opened the mailbox, only to see nothing inside. No special gifts, no romantic letters, and absolutely no confessions of love signed with your name.
It was embarrassing, really. To feel this dramatic and obsessed with words of admiration from you—oh, especially when Alhaitham found out about this whole lovesick ordeal. But he could not help his mind from just imagining it: the reflection of himself in your eyes as you finally confess your feelings of passion and love for him (feelings that didn’t exist, feelings he merely imagined you having, all so pathetically).
But he’s so weird, and he’s so terrible. To imagine a fabled life with you when you probably did not think about him this same way. How foolish. Did you daydream about him like he daydreamed about you every night before he slept? Did you think about him like he thought about you every time he sees your favorite color in the passing? Did you wait at your mailbox like he waited for any letters from you? No. No, you didn’t.
And he’s cried, quite humiliatingly. He’s cried that the perfect life he could picture himself having with you at his side would never be a reality. He’s cried a downpour of tears, simply because he allowed himself to be so caught up in a delusion that was so sick of him to conjure up.
“Are you free for dinner tonight?”
“So sorry Kaveh, I already have plans…”
Plans with someone else. No wonder you hadn’t written him any messages, or contacted him in a while. That… was not the scenes he had in his head. His imaginations, his hopes, his dreams—they did not have someone else in them. For someone he was so hopelessly in love with, he felt so much hurt. A foolish lesson to be learned by a foolish romantic.
In the end, he’d just be talking himself to sleep again. He’d just smile at the sight of you flourishing. Without him, your world will go on turning. A world full of reciprocated love and devotion, one that he would never know.
⎯ ✧ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
RAIDEN EI. you belong with me
The Raiden Shogun was self-destructive. No more than a few people knew of such a fact, but she was certainly one of them.
Because if she cared for her own wellbeing, truly, then she would not fall for selfish desires. Nor, would she be here now, sitting next to you outside a sliding screen in her private gardens of Tenshukaku, sipping your favorite tea and hearing your sweet voice ramble about something so unpleasant to her ears. If she prioritized her own emotions, then maybe she’d be living in blissful ignorance right now instead of listening to your woes over a lover… A lover that was not her.
“And then, she teases me,” you complained, though it was clear you hated it. You didn’t like whining about your partner, which was a good thing—but it made Ei feel sick, because it meant you really loved that woman. “I know she does that all the time, and I just need to get used to it,” you continued, “but sometimes, it gets too much, and she still doesn’t stop.”
But I wouldn’t do that to you, the archon thinks to herself. And suddenly, the tea isn’t as appetizing anymore, because her own words felt drilled onto her tongue, forever forbidden to speak aloud.
“Miko… Has always been like that,” Ei quietly admits instead. She doesn’t want to insult your lover, for that same person was also her own friend. She wanted to be supportive, but it was impossible when she was so in love with you, that she spent every second of each passing day just wishing she was in Miko’s place instead.
“Yeah… But—still, I mean…” You sighed, coming to a loss for words to describe the pink haired shrine maiden. “Is it really so hard to ask just for her to understand how I’m feeling…?” you whined in what seemed like genuine distress. Your face sunk into your hands, and it took all of Ei’s willpower just to keep her respective distance from a romantically taken friend.
But I understand how you feel, Ei once again thinks. She feels so dirty of a friend for comparing herself like this. I understand you better than she will ever.
“Ei…” you muttered. She almost chokes from the way you say her name. “What should I do…?”
Be with me, instead. “Don’t cry over something, or someone, you cannot control. It’s possible your personalities are just not fit for each other, you know.”
“But I love her, Ei…”
Ouch.
She clears her throat, recovering from sharp breath of air she just inhaled. A part of her just broke in that moment, and it was so obvious, too—her expression quickly changed, her body became stiff, her balance suddenly shifted, and yet…
You noticed none of it. Your head was too clouded over love for another woman that was not her; So clouded, in fact, you did not notice the way Ei almost began to tremble. The misery you carried only crafted tenfold for the archon, eternally unbeknownst to you.
But you don’t belong to her, anyways. So why was she crying?
#childe x reader#ayato x reader#baizhu x reader#alhaitham x reader#kaveh x reader#raiden ei x reader#al haitham x reader#ei x reader#tartaglia x reader#ayato kamisato imagines#kamisato ayato x reader#ayato kamisato x reader#genshin imagines
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Hello! Do you perhaps have recommendations for Alpha!bucky?
Alpha!Bucky
masterlist | req masterlist
ONESHOT
Crave by @harrylovex
you realise that you can’t survive your heat without bucky.
intensional by @noctumbra
alpha!bucky sends you a shirtless pic and then offers to spend your heat with him. feelings ensue.
scent by @noctumbra
“you’re one eager and hungry kitten,” bucky whispered in your ear as he licked over your scent gland, where his bite situated perfectly.
vanilla by @noctumbra
his scent was the other thing that made you go stupid other than his eyes: leather, a bit of vanilla, oranges and wet wood.
wet by @noctumbra
your mating sessions are always intense with bucky.
butterfly by @idy-ll-ique
bucky's going into rut. y/n volunteers to help him. feelings come out.
Let Me Love You by @slothspaghettiwrites
When an Omega is feeling very anxious or nervous their Alpha will hold them close while gently crooning and scenting them until they calm down.
Dating apps are stupid by @buckylattes
You decide to download this dating app, well….Natasha persuades you into it. You make a profile and agree to just have it for a week. If nothing becomes of it then you can delete it. But….you swipe right on this handsome man who’s description shows him out to be a gentleman like you’re looking for. So…what happens when he matches with you???
make you mine by @bonky-n-steeb
Bucky keeps his distance from you thinking you can do better than him. but he loses all his restraints when he sees you with another alpha.
to love is to burn by @bonky-n-steeb
You go into heat at the worst moment in the history of time, maybe ever.
took one hit and I was gone by @bonky-n-steeb
after the rise of hydra, your entire life turned into a living nightmare. you lost everything you held precious, your job, your house, your degree, even hope. but then you’re assigned as a mate to him, your enemy and your only ray of hope, James Buchanan Barnes.
little red riding hood by @bonky-n-steeb
your big bad alpha chases you across the woods.
Break Lights by @boxofbonesfic
his omega by @bucksfucks
bucky helps you through an expected heat.
ever since by @syntheticavenger
Bucky Barnes finds his center in a late night subway ride.
By Chance by @green-eyeddragonfanfiction
Female!Reader is an Omega. Alphas and Omegas are rare, and Reader’s been able to avoid alphas through sheer force of will and luck in equal parts.
Feral by @bucknastysbabe
And You’re Mine by @winterarmyy
In which Bucky, the big, scary, 'undesired alpha' was tricked into a blind date where he met his precious little omega.
Protector by @rookthorne
After an eternity of being held against your will, and just as long having been forced to watch your alpha suffer at the hands of the wicked, an opportunity arose. An opportunity so rare, so unique, that it would never be offered again. It was time to escape, and it was time to bathe the halls in their blood – never again would you be held by the bars of a cell, not if he could stop it.
SERIES
Heart and Soul by @all1e23
Alphas only brought trouble. The only thing they are good for is bringing their Omega’s pain and forced submission. They were dangerous, reckless and cruel. There wasn’t an ounce of kindness in any of them. She didn’t need an Alpha, and she certainly didn’t believe in that True Mates fairytale. That was just some fabricated fable Alphas made up to trick innocent doe-eyed Omegas. She wasn’t going to fall for that. Not again.No Alpha would ever get her to believe that love truly exists. And then, James Buchanan Barnes walked into her life.
Better Like This by @simsadventures
You are the newest addition to New York’s elite team of Detectives concentrating on domestic violence and rape, which everyone calls the Avengers. You are an Omega, very bubbly and open to everyone around you, and everyone is super sweet to you, except one person- Bucky, your true mate. Will you be able to destroy the walls he has been building around his heart for years, or will he reject you and break your heart forever?
Some Alpha by @ofstarsandvibranium
Bucky is an Alpha, but can never seem to find someone who wants him to be their Alpha. Until he finds you, a Beta, who’s as firey as an Alpha, yet also tender-hearted like an Omega.
Heal by @chucksfavouriteprophet
For months you managed to distance yourself from Bucky Barnes, the alpha you long for. But one night you have no choice but to comfort him, something which brings out emotions in both of you. Except it also brings out emotions in the Winter Solider, which results in a devastating turn of events that neither of you might be able to come back from.
All The King’s Men by @nastybuckybarnes
Your father always said that if it weren’t for your presentation, he’d think you were an Alpha. There’s a reason for that. Growing up in a world where Omegas are treated like garbage, you’ve fought for the respect that you have. Until you’re sold off to an old King desperate for a bride. But you will not lay down and present for your new husband. No, you will fight back.
Mr. Grumpy by @holylulusworld
Bucky hates omegas. You change his mind.
knife play by @helvonasche
They're on the run and Bucky goes into rut.
Knight In Rusty Armor by @revengingbarnes
For the sake of politics and to get rid of you, their omega daughter, the King and Queen of England marry you off to the King of France. Settling into an unfamiliar monarchy is a tedious process all by itself, but a new problem arises soon after your arrival at your new home.One of the Knights turns out to be your true mate. Your Alpha. The one you are meant to be with. But you’re mated to someone else. And that someone else is the King of France.
Masterlist by @angrythingstarlight
Masterlist by @holylulusworld
#bucky barnes fic rec#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes smut#winter soldier x reader#bucky barnes series#alpha!bucky#alpha!bucky x omega!reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#dbf!bucky#king!bucky#bucky barnes royal au#king!bucky x princess!reader#chubby!bucky#soft!bucky
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dialogue 7 and trope 16 (Secret Relationship) with jude please
also congratulations on 300 followers my lovely, you deserve even more!! <3
Thank u sm for the lovely words i hope you enjoy <333
"ooohh you wanna kiss me sooo bad
Secret Relationship
word count. - 600+
watch it - Jude is clingy and does NAWT care
"Ooohh you wanna kiss me sooo bad.” Jude smiles, leaning into your space as you back hits the wall. He stares at you, gaze trailing shamelessly down to your lips where he lingers there for a moment. He inches closer, so much so that you can smell the body wash on him. Minty fresh. Dear god.
You look around the hallway that you’re both in, eyes wide,“Yeah but not here.” You hiss, pushing him aside and walking away briskly.
He pouts, chasing after you. Pet names and pleas on his lips.
Ever since he landed in Madrid his sights have been on you. You were so kind and welcoming. So sweet. But timid. He thought you were afraid of him at first, if not wary.
Quick to duck out of the way when your paths crossed and never once starting a conversation. Turns out you just had a crush and didn’t know how to deal with it. And the rest is history.
After much pleading, begging, promising, and much compromising, he has you more or less.
Sure you can’t kiss him in public, hell you can’t even go out together, but he's yours and you're just as much his.
The media would tear him apart for having a regular girlfriend imagine if they found out he was with a staff member. You wouldn’t hear the end of it.
Besides, he likes to keep you all to himself. Just for his eyes.
And you want to keep out of the public eye at all costs so it works out.
It’s nearly empty around the training facilities today, it's why you popped in where you know he lingers around to say hi. He has other plans, obviously.
Unable to keep his hands to himself and begging for kisses. There’s cameras all over the place, you would know. You monitor half of them yourself.
You turn a corner to a dimly lit corridor lined with contraction supplies at each bend and twist. It leads to a storage closet, and you know the cameras don’t reach back here.
Jude follows, squinting as he has to duck under a few wooden boards and shooing away spider webs. Plums of dust curl around him but he follows. Even if he's in nothing but a white wife beater, shorts and slides. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth if you wanted. Just lead him.
You lean against a tall cardboard box, you think it's filled with steel beams but what do you know.
He reaches you soon enough, opening a hand out and you gladly take it.
”Where in the world did you take me?” He looks around.
”Super secret hideout.” You nod.
”Do I get a kiss now?” He tries, eyes wide.
You pull him closer to you, “mhm.”
He leans down, gently bringing his hands to cup your face, setting a soft kiss to your lips. And another, and another and another till you’re a giggling mess.
“Want to come over for dinner later? Mom wants to make you your favorite.” He mumbles against your lips, thumbs caressing your cheeks.
You eyes shine, “really? That’s so sweet of course I’ll come.”
peck, “perfect,” peck. Peck. Peck.
You say your goodbyes, and he pouts the whole way. But you kiss promises into his skin and he perks up. Excited to have you for dinner.
What a man. You can’t wait to see Denise. She’s so sweet to you. Jude is a bonus you suppose (you love him so so much).
#bahr footy#jude x reader#jude bellingham#jude x you#jude bellingham x reader#bahr replies#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham one shot#jude bellingham blurb#jude fluff#jude bellingham x y/n#jude bellingham headcanons#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham fanfic#jb5#jb5 blurb#bahr 300 event#jude bellingham fluff
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Hey!! Can I have Peter and his gf who's not rlly smart but catches a mistake Peter made in his hw and teases him but he doesn't mind? Thanks xx!
smarty pants | peter parker.
bf!peter parker x reader
this has been sitting in my inbox for a WHILEE i am sorry!
not proofread, no warnings
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you had just bombed your math quiz and you could not feel any worse. math just wasn’t your thing, ela or history? sure, but math and you were never getting along. and that was a fact.
the only person who might’ve been able to raise your spirits was your one and only genius vigilante boyfriend, peter. which led to you vigorously knocking on his apartment door like you did many times, expecting to be greeted by a familiar peter, instead being met with his aunt may.
“hey, there sweet pea! peter won’t be home for a while, but would you like to come in and wait in his room for him?” you nodded while thanking her, being in his room would help remind you of him.
she walked you to his room, though being here so many times you know the place like the back of your hand.
when you walked into his room you were welcomed with messy algebra homework as well as half-done history homework scattered all over his desk.
you hopped down onto his undone bed and patiently waited for peter to come back to tell him all about how math was the worst subject known to man.
-
after what felt like forever you finally heard the bedroom door creek open, with the curly head following.
“hey, sunshine? how are you?” he said while placing a kiss on top of your forehead. you pouted before responding, and that’s when peter knew he was in for a doozy.
“terrible! peter, i failed my math quiz!” flapping your arms up and down for emphasis. peter patted your shoulder, his way of saying ‘i’m sorry’.
“c'mon, it can’t be that bad” peter was sorely mistaken. it was that bad.
“i got a 25%.” he made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth, as though it physically hurt him to hear that grade.
“i mean, whose bright idea was it to come up with trigonometric functions? when will i ever use that in my entire life?” you began to rant. the grade was irritating you considering you’ve never gotten lower than a c in math.
“okay, come show me what you need trouble with.” peter said while pulling you up from his bed and leading you to his untidy desk.
you told him what was confusing you and he thoroughly explained it, but you couldn't seem to focus with that history homework on his desk.
“it's italy.”
“what..?”
“which country did the renaissance begin in? you said germany but it's italy.” he quickly scanned over the question again, skimming over the small paragraph before it.
“you got me, good job smarty pants!” he wasn’t sour or bitter about it all. if anything, he was happy, he knew how much it would mean to you if you corrected the smartest person you knew.
“i am a bit of smarty pants aren’t i?” and with that both you and peter started to explode in a fit of giggles.
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#LMFAO i remember when i got a 25 on my test#peter parker aka THE smarty pants#sam writes#peter parker#peter parker x reader#tasm fic#tasm!peter x reader#bf!peter#fluff#mcu#mcu x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker fic#spiderman x reader#spiderman x y/n#spiderman homecoming
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Connell x Marianne (Normal People) - Carmy x Sydney (The Bear)
#never in history has a man ever been so down bad#the bear#sydcarmy#sydney adamu#carmen berzatto#charged and sexy#platonic and messy#syd x carmy#chefs kiss#carmy x sydney#the bear fx#normal people#connell waldron#marianne sheridan#connell x marianne#web weaving#ayo edebiri#paul mescal#daisy edgar jones#jeremy allen white
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—anger; kaz brekker.
ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 0,8k words.
ʚ based off of this request. | kaz gets angry and finds comfort with the reader.
ʚ established relationship; kaz is ok with being touched by reader.
ʚ a/n i am a sucker for kaz being whipped. like this man is 100% the biggest softie for his s/o. we all remember the line from the book where he wanted to bottle inej's laugh and get drunk on it every night. if you have more kaz/grishaverse reqs my asks are open!
Kaz likes to think that he has somewhat of a good grasp of his emotions. He puts on masks like turning the back of his hand. His favourite one, though, is the one he wears the most. Cool and polished, unfeeling. Stoicity that demands respect and fear—that instills intimidation.
It's not so easy to slip on that mask when his entire body practically hums with anger, his fingers twitch underneath the gloves. The desire to fucking hit something burning under the leather.
The reason is clear, being whispered in both fearful hushes and celebratory gasps: Pekka Rollins has been released from Hellgate.
Life has a way on turning a good thing into something bad. Kaz is used to it. He has come to expect it. Hell, he expects the Dregs to eventually fall apart. Expects the Crows to eventually leave him. Expects you to get fed up with him and pack your things.
He doesn't expect Pekka Rollins to be released—after all he's done to make sure the bastard ends up where he deserves to.
“Kaz—” An unfortunate Dregs member speaks, perhaps wanting to relay the message or simply making formalities.
Kaz spins around. The desire to swing his cane in a bone-breaking arc is there. He doesn't.
“Not one word.”
That's all he says. The air in the Crow Club turns suffocating—all tension and no reprieve. Everything is still being conducted as normal: barkeeps are serving drinks, gamblers are opening tables and customers are drinking and carolling. To those who know Kaz well enough, know his tells and his history with the leader of the Dime Lions, it feels like walking across a glass bridge. Every step is followed by the anticipation of falling through.
Jesper turns to look at Wylan, who glances at Nina and Matthias. The couple turns to Inej. The Wraith stares at you. Unspoken words are exchanged from across the room, over rowdy drunkards and laughing gamblers.
The door to Kaz's office on the second floor slams shut. A tremble goes through the frame. It gets lost quickly, swallowed by the hustle bustle of the Barrell, but you notice. Of course, you do.
You stare at the rest of your friends and find them looking back at you expectantly. Jesper tilts his head towards the stairs.
You sigh, putting up a hand towards them—your first two fingers are crossed over each other. Then, you're already on the steps, knocking at the door gently.
“Kaz?”
You hear a loud sigh.
“Can I come in?”
“You'll barge in anyway.”
You let out a soft chuckle and push the door open. He sits on his desk, one leg stretching out to balance his body while the other is bent. He shakes his knee idly. Both of his hands grab the edge of the desk that over hangs, fingers tapping periodically.
He spares you a glance under the brim of his hat and relaxes slightly. Your presence alone melts the tautness in his shoulders. It always does.
“Are you alright?”
“Never been better.” Sarcasm laces each word.
You sigh, approaching him. He doesn't flinch away when you step into his personal space—something that has taken years to work towards and you're grateful for the point you've reached together.
“It's inevitable, you know?”
Your words cut but they're nothing short of the truth. Someone as powerful as Pekka Rollins will eventually get out—it isn't a reach to conclude. Deep down, Kaz knows as well. He just likes to think that he finally is able to lock away that part of his past and throw away the key, but it always comes crawling back. Meaner than ever.
“I know, schatje,” he says, defeated.
You step closer and pull the hat off of his head. Your hand runs through his scalp to smooth out the flattened hair, combing through smooth, dark strands. He leans into the touch. One of his hands go to your arm and brings the inside of your wrist to his lips.
“Everyone was scared of you,” you tease, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. He raises an eyebrow. You add, “Well, more than usual.”
He lets out a huff—the beginning of a chuckle. “As they should be.”
“You are not-so-scary right now.”
He buries his face in the crook of your neck. “Only for you.”
“Ever the charmer.”
His arms come to rest around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he lets you soothe the anger—calm the storm inside him.
“We'll get him again, Kaz,” you say, pulling away slightly to look at him. “Together, okay? We've done it once. What's a second time?”
He hums. “You're right.”
“I often am.”
“Well, except for that time—”
“Kaz!”
It seems that you've successfully staved him off of being consumed by his anger, once again.
[ ]
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the crown prince | c.s
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
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.
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.
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."
"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.
"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."
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.
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.
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
#i don't know shit abt politics#so go easy#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#ateez angst#choi san x reader#san x reader#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines
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Flipping the Script: Leviathan Progression (Human World AU)
Previously: After a baggage mishap at the airport, you and your cosplay group found the perfect replacement for your Lord of Shadows! Rejoice, as now a demon has your number! (Not that you know that)
Contents: Second person (you), fluff, MC is an otaku, MC is down bad, mutual pining between idiots
Part One, Part Two (You are here), Part Three (Coming Soon)...
~♡♡♡~
Levi met up with you and your team for the photoshoot that day, and it couldn’t have gone better!
As promised, you spent your first visit to the vendors room with him as part of his compensation for helping you out. What you hadn’t expected was for him to be quite so funny during your time together.
He had an infectious energy about him… Especially when talking about the shows and hobbies that he liked to indulge in. Coincidently, they happened to line up with a lot of your interests as well, so there was a nearly endless conversations between you two.
By the time the rest of your team tracked you down to do a scheduled fan signing, you and Levi had already gotten lunch at a themed café and exchanged online handles to play games together back at the hotel. Then they had to sit and suffer through you rambling about just how sweet and hilarious he was...
Even after the convention, the two of you kept up a very steady contact. Weekly game nights were an absolute must and he occasionally would join chats with you if you decided to stream. Leviachan, as you'd happily begun to call him, became a fast regular in your DMs and on your chat history.
You were surprised that for all of Levi's skill, he didn’t have the same kind of social media presence that you had to share his cosplay. You offered multiple times to bring him in for collabs together, but…
Well, Levi was always super cagey with you about just WHERE he lives or even where he was born in! When you first asked, he said it was, “J-just a small place somewhere out there! Nowhere important.”
To some extent, you understood his desire for privacy, so you've never really pried, but it still felt so odd that he wouldn’t even give you a country… Not even a time zone! Whenever you wanted to call him, he’d always just “up.” Did he ever sleep??
What information you could gain from him was mainly family-related. He had six brothers, no Mom, and an estranged Dad. The one you saw on the day you met him, Malcolm, was the second oldest and their relationship seemed… complicated.
It wasn’t until you both decided to do a video call to play a game he sent you that you got to first meet the others...
You had your computer booting up the copy of Demonlands 2 that Levi sent for you to play while the window for your video call rang for him to pick up. It was another typical Friday game night for you, though you decided not to stream in favor of having a chill night of fun with Levi. He had been talking up this as one of his comfort games for a long while, though you had never heard of it yourself, so when he offered to give you copy you sprang for it! Over the months you’d gotten to know the shy otaku, you’d learned to put paramount trust in his recommendations. He really knew his stuff, anime AND game-wise, so listening to him was like having your own personal guru.
You slid your headphones on and got comfortable in your chair right as Levi’s end picked up and the corner of your monitor displayed the smiling face of the man who'd quickly grown to become your best friend. The ambient blue light of his room tinged the violet in his hair a shade of indigo, but left the sunset shade of his eyes more or less intact. You'd already expressed some jealousy to Levi over his sweet setup... what parts of it he's been willing to show you anyway. He'd given you the digital tour of his figurines, manga, and games collections, as well as showing you little Henry. You had no idea someone would commit to an aquatic aesthetic so hard that they’d actually sleep in a bathtub, but at the same time it felt so very… Levi. Nothing in his bedroom was like anything you'd ever seen before, like, who actually sleeps next to an aquarium tank?? Maybe his family were the eccentric type…
“Hey, Y/n! Sorry that I'm picking up late.”
“No, it’s fine! I was grabbing a snack earlier. Did something happen?”
“No, nothing important.”
You watched Levi start checking over his monitor through the screen while mindlessly twisting the black wire of your headphones between your fingertips. When you first started to play games together, these little silences between you would feel awkward and Levi would scramble to get find anything he could to fill them. To alleviate the tension, you’d play a shared playlist of your favorite otacore or ani-songs to make him more comfortable, but for the last month or so he hadn’t needed it as much. The silences were now… pleasant. You could take your time with each other like real friends could and it felt pretty nice.
Most of your offline friends knew how embarrassingly down bad you'd become for this guy. You hoped your cosplay audience hadn't picked up on it yet, but there would always be those comments that point out how you gush about him whenever he offered you a new accessory for your outfits… If you guys had a ship name, you didn’t know it'd be yet.
…
Not that you had any ideas about it or anything. You? Ship yourself with your best friend?? Absolutely not! Like, who would actually do that-?
“Y/n?”
“Huh??”
Levi's voice interjected itself into your thoughts, making you fumble with the headphone wire as you recovered.
“Hey, are you alright? You were just staring off there…”
Now back in reality, you stuttered out an embarrassed apology to your confused friend and try to smile it off.
“Oh yeah, Levi, I'm alright. It's just a long week, so I'm ready for some gaming!”
You prayed that the bubbly feeling in your chest wasn't also showing on your face when you watched his expression light up. That determined smile was more than half of the reason you agreed to these game nights of yours when he first brought up the idea. He took to giving you a good time as passionately as a great DM runs their campaign and you appreciated the hell out of him for it... Having a life on social media and being in the public eye could absolutely drain a person, but with Levi you could just relax and recharge with the stuff you loved…
“Okay, Y/n, do you have everything running?”
“Yep! Got it all installed last night.”
“Great! Go ahead and open the co-op menu and-"
His voice got cut off in your headphones by the sound of a sharp knock coming from behind him. Levi's eyes briefly grew to the size of saucers as they darted over his shoulder then back at your image onscreen.
“Levi...? What's wrong?”
“Nothing! Uh… J-just a second!”
You watched him lurch over his desk and fumble with his mouse until eventually the camera feed cut to black. You were definitely getting concerned, since Levi had almost never reacted that way to an outside noise before, but soon your worry morphed into curiosity. A sing-song voice called out through your headphones, one you had never heard before, and after checking the chat window you realized that, yep…
Levi forgot to mute the call.
“Oh Levi~! What made you think we're done talking? Is that your little friend in there??”
The man's voice was at a higher pitch than Levi's and he sounded pretty… annoyed. Or at least insistent about something. You heard the sound of door hinges swinging open, followed by Levi's much more exasperated tone.
“Go away, Asmo-gak! Why are all of you here!?”
A new voice joined the fray, this one was much softer than the other two. They spoke at a languid pace, slow like honey pouring from a bottle.
Did he just wake up or something...?
“We thought you've been talking to a computer this whole time, but Mammon says that they're a real person…”
“Yeah, I’ve seen'em too! Tell'em Levi!”
That one you knew had to be Malcolm! There was no mistaking the energetic punch to his words, but who the heck was Mammon?? You didn’t recall meeting him too…
“Ugh, yes! They're real, but no you can’t all see them! We just started a new game, so go away!!”
“Uhm, Levi?”
Your question must have come through the speakers because, for moment, the sudden silence on the other end was deafening… then all hell broke loose at once.
Another voice spoke up now, one that sounded a lot deeper and almost velvety coming through your headphones.
“Was that them just now?”
Another responds, also deep, but muffled? As if they're trying to speak past a mouthful of marshmallows…
“Mmnph-‘ink so-mmmgh…”
The higher voice chimed in well over them both.
“Oh, we should go say hi!! What do you think, Levi? You can't keep teasing us like this!”
The blank screen on your monitor was starting to kill you seemingly as much as it was them… You desperately wanted some kind of explanation, but more importantly…!
“Levi, who's over there? Are those your brothers?!”
Your ears perked from the a collective gasp you heard on the other end, then the excitable one spoke again.
“They know about us???”
“NO!! N-not everything! Please leave-!!”
You'd be lying if you said that Levi's shout hadn't hurt you right then… It felt like a little crack went tink right on your heart! Had he been keeping you a secret from them this whole time? Was he embarrassed? Or did he not trust you to know too much about himself…? Was it your platform that he was scared of??? You had never broadcasted anything he hadn’t given permission about ahead if time… You wouldn't dare to dox him!! Though you could understand if that was his reasoning, the secrecy still kind of hurt…
“W-wait, Levi, I’ve always wanted to see more of your family...! Why not let them in? Please? We can still play right afterwards!”
“Huh?? But Y/n-!!”
“You heard'em, Levi! Let us through!”
A mass of shuffling filled your headphones while you waited with baited breath. You had even leaned in so close to your monitor that when the window flashed back on, you were briefly blinded by all of the colors at once! It took a few moments for you to make out all five pairs of eyes staring back through the screen. Each boy seemed to be crammed up against Levi's computer desk like lab students all forced to share the same microscope... To your surprise, not a single one of them looked like Levi or even like each other! You probably should have guessed, considering Malcom (who was seated center stage, having stole Levi's gamer chair for himself) looked nothing like him before, but you wouldn’t have guessed all 5 would differ quite as drastically… Would the sixth look that different as well?
“Uhm… hi?”
You tried to smile again to make a good impression, but it was hard to do while feeling like a living petri-dish. You were used to having eyes on you, but this was another level. Perhaps it was the added pressure of not wanting to look bad in front of a good friend's family, but it also could have also been the sheer intensity of their gaze… Levi could get this way too sometimes and it always felt like his orange-hued irises could almost see right through you... Especially if he just lost a game. In those times, his intimidating edge gave you a bit of a thrill. It'd feel like you just bested a dangerous beast in combat, but against ten eyes it was overwhelming… Each one bore right through you as if to examine your very soul…
“Huh,” a blonde one peering over Malcom's right shoulder was the first to speak up. His eyebrows were raised practically off of his forehead in surprise. “So they are real, then.”
The shortest boy, squished up against Malcom as if trying to steal center frame, clasped his hands over his heart and cooed back towards the doorway.
“Aww, Levi, look at that! You actually have a friend now!! And a real cutie, too~ Hello, hun!”
“Yeah, but why do they look like a human…?”
You watched guys instantly stiffen up as all eyes shifted towards a dark-haired boy clutching a spotted pillow just barely in view. It was hard for you to see his face, since it was only half on screen and even then some of it was behind his pillow, yet you could detect something… cold in it. He sounded annoyed, but you couldn’t place why… Was he seriously expecting you to be an AI or something?
To your surprise, the pillow guy was swiftly yanked out of frame and replaced by Levi, though you couldn’t see much of his face either. Only that he was holding onto the pillow guy's sleeved arm rather tightly as he spoke.
“Of course they're human! Not a 2D person or just a computer, but human like the rest of us… Right?”
You'd never heard such a dark edge come over Levi’s tone before. Not even in jest! It must have been rare for his brothers to hear as well, because most stared at him with equally shocked expressions. The arm in Levi's grasp yanked itself away and you heard footsteps head towards the door… but the other brothers stayed where they were. Another long silence flooded in, somethibg that felt far more uncomfortable than any you had experienced with Levi before, until a (frankly) massive dude chewing on a huge slab of jerky spoke up behind Malcolm.
“If they're nice to Levi, that's enough for me.” He inhaled the rest of the jerky into his mouth (which you didn’t quite detect him chewing) before he was already smiling at you with the kind of warmth that you'd see saved up only for the sappiest of shojo scenes. “Hello, thank you for being Levi's friend.”
The rest of the boys all exchanged glances with each other, then a similar kindness took over their faces too. Gone were the piercing stares of just a moment ago, and instead you only felt a welcoming energy radiating out from your monitor. As if sensing the change too, Levi finally came into view of the camera. He leaned down by Malcolm in the spot the pillow guy left open, grinning at you in that way only he really could.
“Y/n... These are my brothers.”
#personally i think not enough time is spent on ridiculously infatuated mcs#if you dont want to put your man in a chokehold#and burrow into his chest with your bare hands#is it even love?#come on now#obey me#obey me shall we date#shall-we-date-obey-me#obey me leviathan#obey me mammon#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me satan#obey me belphegor#obey me fic#obey me scenarios#obey me nightbringer
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