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#is risking his life for someone who doesn't deserve it
beetlevsboy · 1 day
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i already posted this in some tags but I want to be more insane acryally. This is kind of just my opinion on Edwin and The Cat Kings relationship n why I don’t think fans should try and push their relationship.
Their relationship is starts off and is mostly the cat kings own narcissism and predatory (not age wise; I mean literally) behavior towards Edwin and Edwin's need for someone to push him into understanding that his queerness doesn't have to be torture and can be something giddy (even if he doesn't return those feelings). This is super important to Edwin but his rejection of TCK is also as he immediately recognizes his lack of feelings and actual literal discomfort at the moves placed on him. TCK is good about boundaries and consent sexually wise but that doesn’t stop their relationship from progressing from there.
At first, the cat king does like Edwin but he doesn’t know anything about him. He sees their relationship as a game and Edwin simply as someone he wants to have simply because he can’t. He continues to torment Edwin (showing up as people he does like, propositioning him still, being threatening when his control is questioned) through out the show but starts to feel that “romanticism” towards him because hes infatuated by the kindness he's shown despite the cruelty he's presented to Edwin. Queerness and performance always go hand in hand and Edwin’s lack of it entices the Cat King.
The show runners and Lukas, the actor, have said themselves that the cat king is an older secretly insecure character. He’s jaded by heartbreak the the world’s condemnation of everything he is. Edwin is this younger, genuinely kind character that shows him that projecting his hurt on others and romanticizing it only hurts both people in that relationship. Their relationship is about the isolation of queerness and the walls put up to protect yourself and the coping mechanism used to not be hurt again; even at the risk of hurting those just like you- or those who used to be (cough cough the show runners saying that TCK represented the older men with bad intentions that every young gay man has met that welcomes them into the space and makes them feel loved to use them). The Cat King uses Edwin and Edwin knows this. That kiss from edwin was not a reciprocation of feelings; it was to say "I'm sorry your loneliness had caused you to think you have to use your power to control those weaker than you. (Naive, young, and someone he can literally trap) It's the easiest way to feel. And while I cannot and will not give you what you want or need, you deserve to feel happy and not like you have to gain attention of those uninterested to feel good enough.”
I just can't even explain all my thoughts about their dynamic it's just so much about the predation from older queers because of the trauma they've endured from their elders and the cycle of hurt and abuse that is passed down and the way we can break the cycle with kindness. The way we can protect our youths by healing those traumas.
Something the cat king learns and accepts because he can like Edwin. He can show Edwin the sweetness and beauty of being queer while also not being the one that should hold his hand through it. Edwin cannot be a romanticized replacement for the pain others have caused him and trying to force him to be so, continuing to treat him like prey to catch, will only continue the cycle.
tdlr: their relationship is super important for both of their relationships with queerness and trauma and becoming more aware of their identities but their relationship is not romantic- it’s simply an attempt to romanticize Edwin into someone he could love (hurt and control) in place of the people who’s actually hurt him and is supposed to be a parallel of real life predation in the queer community but the realization of this created an amazing acceptance and new bond I do hope they explore without TCK trying to force a non-platonic relationship
Off topic but I don't like people defending their age gap because, yes, Edwin is 86, but he died with a teenage boy brain and then spent 70 of those years in hell where he certainly was not getting his brain developed while TCK has possibly hundreds of years of sentience and experience. The power imbalance is not it y'all and that’s like super clear in the show
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litnerdwrites · 3 days
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Just an FYI to the avid Rhysand/IC stans: It is completely possible for a bad person to good things, and a good person to do bad things. It's possible for someone to be a victim of abuse, and an abuser themselves. "Rhysand suffered for his people and deserves all the love" or "Rhysand has a need for control because of his trauma utm," is unbelievable.
Yes, I will acknowledge Rhysand is a victim of SA. I will acknowledge that he had good intentions when protecting Velaris, saving Mor, and fighting Hybern in two wars. However, being a victim doesn't excuse your actions when you abuse others. Under no circumstances does his trauma excuse not telling Feyre about the risk to her life with her pregnancy, or threatening to kill Nesta for no real reason honestly.
You could argue that he had good intentions and didn't want to cause Feyre any stress, just like he had good intentions when stealing Tarquin's book (that he never gave back), or protecting only one third of his court (assuming that the NC is comprised of Velaris, The HC, and Illyria exclusively,) and perhaps he even had good intentions when he tried to make that bargain with Feyre (I seriously doubt it though). However, bad consequences to bad actions that have good intentions DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT make those bad actions okay.
No matter how good Rhysand's intentions were in hiding Velaris, people in Illyrian and the HC suffered under Amarantha's reign. No matter how good his intentions were, Nesta was stuck with her toxic, abusive, stalker in the HOW along with a coward who stood by and watched her get abuse against her will until she was mentally broken. No matter how good his intentions, people still got hurt. People still died.
The families of the murdered children probably don't care what his intentions are. I sincerely doubt the people of HC or Illyria care how good his intentions are. It doesn't matter how good his intentions were when he met with the mortal queens, because Nesta and Elain still got hurt, practically murdered, and put back together again before being forced into a life they didn't want. Lucien clearly didn't care about his intentions when he was brought to The NC. He only backed down when he was threatened.
So I'll say this one more time. Louder for the people in the back: GOOD INTENTIONS DON'T MAKE THE BAD CONSEQUENCES INCONSEQUENTIAL ALL OF A SUDDEN!
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ohanny · 3 days
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my least delusional take on how kim and kenta might happen in season 2
so call me delusional but i don’t think the prison trio works for tony. first of all, kenta pretty much murdered him and i don’t think tony is the kind of man to forgive that? one could argue he could use it to guilt kenta but like… there are way more risk-free options not inside a prison for stabbing you. winner was a henchman of opportunity and selfish benefit and just looks like the sort to hold a bitter grudge forever. and dean? dean was caught up in the mess at his weakest point and going through the consequences of his own actions. also i want all three of them to move forward and not back.
but obviously they are working for someone - i see them as being rather reluctantly allied with the common goal of getting and, most importantly, staying out of prison. and this is where i want kim to stumble in on their little operation and actually agree with their mission which leads to him teaming up with them. like maybe the trio is trying to figure out what's going on with tony or way or the rest of the child/organ trafficking ring and maybe it's something the x-hunter team has dismissed or doesn't want to dig into but please. since when has st. kimberly of justice have been able to walk away once he catches the scent of something rotten in the state of denmark? never.
winner and dean have a thing against kenta - winner because he's a bitch and dean because kenta ruined his life - and kim sure as shit isn't going to be on winner’s side: so the circumstances make him partner up with kenta by default. together they get shit done and keep the rest of their little gang of misfits in check.
kenta is a bit feral and unstable and kim is very no nonsense about his “you want to figure out who you are and how to be a better person? fucking act like it” opinions. like give me kim being bossy and righteous and kenta wanting to strangle him because he can't deal with someone trying to control and micromanage his every move again. give me kenta lashing out and kim looking at him all “with all due respect - which is none - you can't pull this shit in a civilized society.” give me kenta trying his best to function, having his own rituals and behaviours - some of them very maladjusted and plain sad - and kim, witnessing it from close range, thinking “holy shit that's messed up.”
(kim snaps and gets into kenta’s face and kenta flinches before shaking it off and striking back. kenta is possessive and stupid aggressive about the most mundane things - like his cigarettes, clothes or food - and kim finds it infuriating until he realizes they're the first and only things kenta’s been allowed to actually own. kenta gets banged up in the process of them doing something and kim barks at him to “sit the hell down and let me look at it” and kenta responds with a blank-faced “why?”)
kim might not start out liking kenta, that'll come later and almost by accident, but he pities the man and doesn't think anyone deserves to like that way. and they don't even need to explicitly end up together but give me and ending where it's hinted at as the natural next step now that they've grown genuinely fond of each other.
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bonus:
kim: hey, i don't like the guy either but we’re on the same side this time
alan: you sure about that?
kim: yeah, he wants nothing to do with tony.
alan: not what i meant but good to know
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microsuedemouse · 1 year
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the fact that Danny literally has to walk out of the room when Steve makes the decision to go rescue his mother... lordie. he cannot cope with this. he's watched Steve put his ass on the line for Doris several times already and every time she repays him by being shady and keeping secrets and taking off and ultimately not being a mother in any way no matter how much she claims to want to. and he just doesn't know how to handle this happening again, let alone all of it going down in circumstances where Steve has to go completely no-contact with the team. Danny can't even go with him and watch his back this time.
not to project, gang, but there's just. so much happening in Danny's tone and on his face in that moment. "it's your mother; you're gonna do what you're gonna do."
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Three AI insights for hard-charging, future-oriented smartypantses
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MERE HOURS REMAIN for the Kickstarter for the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There’s also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.
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Living in the age of AI hype makes demands on all of us to come up with smartypants prognostications about how AI is about to change everything forever, and wow, it's pretty amazing, huh?
AI pitchmen don't make it easy. They like to pile on the cognitive dissonance and demand that we all somehow resolve it. This is a thing cult leaders do, too – tell blatant and obvious lies to their followers. When a cult follower repeats the lie to others, they are demonstrating their loyalty, both to the leader and to themselves.
Over and over, the claims of AI pitchmen turn out to be blatant lies. This has been the case since at least the age of the Mechanical Turk, the 18th chess-playing automaton that was actually just a chess player crammed into the base of an elaborate puppet that was exhibited as an autonomous, intelligent robot.
The most prominent Mechanical Turk huckster is Elon Musk, who habitually, blatantly and repeatedly lies about AI. He's been promising "full self driving" Telsas in "one to two years" for more than a decade. Periodically, he'll "demonstrate" a car that's in full-self driving mode – which then turns out to be canned, recorded demo:
https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/
Musk even trotted an autonomous, humanoid robot on-stage at an investor presentation, failing to mention that this mechanical marvel was just a person in a robot suit:
https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai
Now, Musk has announced that his junk-science neural interface company, Neuralink, has made the leap to implanting neural interface chips in a human brain. As Joan Westenberg writes, the press have repeated this claim as presumptively true, despite its wild implausibility:
https://joanwestenberg.com/blog/elon-musk-lies
Neuralink, after all, is a company notorious for mutilating primates in pursuit of showy, meaningless demos:
https://www.wired.com/story/elon-musk-pcrm-neuralink-monkey-deaths/
I'm perfectly willing to believe that Musk would risk someone else's life to help him with this nonsense, because he doesn't see other people as real and deserving of compassion or empathy. But he's also profoundly lazy and is accustomed to a world that unquestioningly swallows his most outlandish pronouncements, so Occam's Razor dictates that the most likely explanation here is that he just made it up.
The odds that there's a human being beta-testing Musk's neural interface with the only brain they will ever have aren't zero. But I give it the same odds as the Raelians' claim to have cloned a human being:
https://edition.cnn.com/2003/ALLPOLITICS/01/03/cf.opinion.rael/
The human-in-a-robot-suit gambit is everywhere in AI hype. Cruise, GM's disgraced "robot taxi" company, had 1.5 remote operators for every one of the cars on the road. They used AI to replace a single, low-waged driver with 1.5 high-waged, specialized technicians. Truly, it was a marvel.
Globalization is key to maintaining the guy-in-a-robot-suit phenomenon. Globalization gives AI pitchmen access to millions of low-waged workers who can pretend to be software programs, allowing us to pretend to have transcended the capitalism's exploitation trap. This is also a very old pattern – just a couple decades after the Mechanical Turk toured Europe, Thomas Jefferson returned from the continent with the dumbwaiter. Jefferson refined and installed these marvels, announcing to his dinner guests that they allowed him to replace his "servants" (that is, his slaves). Dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, of course – they just keep them out of sight:
https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/
So much AI turns out to be low-waged people in a call center in the Global South pretending to be robots that Indian techies have a joke about it: "AI stands for 'absent Indian'":
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain
A reader wrote to me this week. They're a multi-decade veteran of Amazon who had a fascinating tale about the launch of Amazon Go, the "fully automated" Amazon retail outlets that let you wander around, pick up goods and walk out again, while AI-enabled cameras totted up the goods in your basket and charged your card for them.
According to this reader, the AI cameras didn't work any better than Tesla's full-self driving mode, and had to be backstopped by a minimum of three camera operators in an Indian call center, "so that there could be a quorum system for deciding on a customer's activity – three autopilots good, two autopilots bad."
Amazon got a ton of press from the launch of the Amazon Go stores. A lot of it was very favorable, of course: Mister Market is insatiably horny for firing human beings and replacing them with robots, so any announcement that you've got a human-replacing robot is a surefire way to make Line Go Up. But there was also plenty of critical press about this – pieces that took Amazon to task for replacing human beings with robots.
What was missing from the criticism? Articles that said that Amazon was probably lying about its robots, that it had replaced low-waged clerks in the USA with even-lower-waged camera-jockeys in India.
Which is a shame, because that criticism would have hit Amazon where it hurts, right there in the ole Line Go Up. Amazon's stock price boost off the back of the Amazon Go announcements represented the market's bet that Amazon would evert out of cyberspace and fill all of our physical retail corridors with monopolistic robot stores, moated with IP that prevented other retailers from similarly slashing their wage bills. That unbridgeable moat would guarantee Amazon generations of monopoly rents, which it would share with any shareholders who piled into the stock at that moment.
See the difference? Criticize Amazon for its devastatingly effective automation and you help Amazon sell stock to suckers, which makes Amazon executives richer. Criticize Amazon for lying about its automation, and you clobber the personal net worth of the executives who spun up this lie, because their portfolios are full of Amazon stock:
https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5
Amazon Go didn't go. The hundreds of Amazon Go stores we were promised never materialized. There's an embarrassing rump of 25 of these things still around, which will doubtless be quietly shuttered in the years to come. But Amazon Go wasn't a failure. It allowed its architects to pocket massive capital gains on the way to building generational wealth and establishing a new permanent aristocracy of habitual bullshitters dressed up as high-tech wizards.
"Wizard" is the right word for it. The high-tech sector pretends to be science fiction, but it's usually fantasy. For a generation, America's largest tech firms peddled the dream of imminently establishing colonies on distant worlds or even traveling to other solar systems, something that is still so far in our future that it might well never come to pass:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead
During the Space Age, we got the same kind of performative bullshit. On The Well David Gans mentioned hearing a promo on SiriusXM for a radio show with "the first AI co-host." To this, Craig L Maudlin replied, "Reminds me of fins on automobiles."
Yup, that's exactly it. An AI radio co-host is to artificial intelligence as a Cadillac Eldorado Biaritz tail-fin is to interstellar rocketry.
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Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!
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If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins
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yawnderu · 6 months
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Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part II
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Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.
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"Can I hold her?" You dread the question. The way he asks it, the way he looks at you, the way you know he's going out of his comfort zone to come to your house, knowing you don't want him there.
"Sure." You put your pride aside, having the best interest of your baby in mind. The little girl is placed carefully in his arms, and it breaks your heart to see just how well she fits there, like a missing puzzle piece.
"She's so beautiful." He whispers, brown eyes fully focused on his daughter—his daughter. For someone who avoided the topic of family like the plague, the concept was still weird to even think about, despite the way the girl in his arms looked just like him when he was a baby, countless pictures hung around his house before they were permanently destroyed by his father in attempts to torment Mrs. Riley.
"What was that, Captain?" Simon crooned teasingly, leaning his head closer to the baby to try to understand the babbles that were slowly becoming more and more clear each passing week. Of course, she was still too young to talk, though the little girl loved babbling out at any given moment.
"She's lovely, isn't she? Shame she looks like you." Your words came out teasing for the first time ever since you saw him again, the banter in your previous friendship coming back for a second as he playfully glared down at you.
"Shame she acts like me too." He jested, the baby's mannerisms very reminiscent of his own. You poke your tongue out at him jokingly before looking back down at your daughter, the strings of your heart being pulled the more you stare at her. The little creature doesn't cry much, luckily, so you have all the time in the world to simply admire what you created— what you both created.
"Look at her tongue stickin' out." Simon pointed out to the baby's tiny tongue sticking out, a quiet laugh leaving his lips at the way she imitated you. You gently pinch her chubby cheek, planting a kiss on her forehead as a small laugh escapes you too. It's not hard for her to steal your heart, Simon noticed.
"Hush, darlin', daddy's busy flirtin' with mommy." He knows he's overstepping, but... it's worth the risk. He wants what you used to have back then, despite knowing he doesn't deserve it. He'll prove himself, Simon promised since the first time he saw you again.
"Just so you know, this—" You point between him, the baby, and you. "Doesn't mean we're together. Not a chance." You try to be stern, though you both can't deny the look in your eyes. Still, you resist, not wanting to be disappointed again. Simon leaving is an open wound that never healed.
"I know." He replied after a few seconds, not looking at you. His eyes were focused on the baby, holding her close to his chest as she cuddled up to him, quieting down from her babbling. He sat down on the couch, one of his fingers absent-mindedly running over the features of his daughter.
"I'm thinkin' of retiring within a year or two, once Makarov's dead." He starts hesitantly, not daring to look at you just yet.
"Do you think the three of us can be a family? I know I messed up, and I'm sorry." He finally looks up at you, though only for a short second before he's getting up again, gently putting the baby in her crib. He gives her a small plushie to cuddle, soft blanket wrapped over her tiny frame. He comes back to you, bare hands hesitantly reaching for yours before noticing you're about to recoil back. He doesn't blame you.
"I'll do anything." He swears, taking a step back to respect your personal space. You look away for a few seconds, arms crossed and a small frown on your lips. The thought of Simon leaving or dying is always there, eating at the back of your mind.
"You're retiring?" Is all you can ask, not bothering to hide the sheer curiosity and confusion. Simon has been a soldier since he was 18— it's all he knows. He has given up his entire life and family— why stop now?
"Yeah. Think it's time to slow down... actually live life a little, for once. I had to retire at some point, yeah?" It wasn't an easy choice at all. He has bled for the army countless times, lost his family because of it, lost so many allies he can't even count them in his head, yet the tiny girl was the one that made him realize enough is enough.
"Interesting." It's all you reply, eyes slightly narrowed as you look deep into his, seeking for any signs of hesitation or lying. You find none.
"I'm serious. I can be a father to her, and... a husband to you, if you let me. Just like you wanted." Just like you told him you wanted things to be. Just like he thought about before breaking up with you after 4 years.
"Don't have to give me an answer now, but I'm retirin' and that's final." He went to grab his backpack, pulling out a folder. He placed it in front of you gently before giving his sleeping daughter a soft kiss on the forehead, eyes fully focused on her as he memorized her features. It's gonna be a long time until he sees her again.
"I'm deploying in an hour." He mentioned, his back turned towards you as you read the papers. His will, updated to include your daughter. Previously, it was only you there.
"Not comin' back for a long while, unless things go well. If shit hits the fan..." He knows it's always a possibility when dealing with Makarov.
"You'll both have enough to live a good life." He was getting choked up. Not crying or tearing up, but uncomfortable enough that he was struggling to speak.
"Simon." You call out and he turns his head towards you, slight surprise in his features. It's the first time you call him Simon since he came back into your life— it used to be Ghost, much to his dismay, to place even more space between you. He never said anything about it.
"Something to keep your heart safe." You walk up to him, both of your hands holding one of his, placing a hard object in his palm. He looks down at it and his heart almost stops.
The ID bracelet your baby wore shortly after she was born. He nods his head once in acknowledgment, expression growing more determined as his fingers trace the outline of the plastic.
"Come back to her safe." Your hand hesitantly went to the back of his neck, pulling him closer until his forehead was against yours. He lets you, and you're both stuck looking deep into each other's eyes for what feels like forever.
"Come back to us." You plant a soft kiss to his forehead before letting go, basking in the slight sense of normalcy, ignoring your worthless pride for once. He leans down and returns the kiss to your forehead, nodding once. He stares down at you, memorizing your features the same way he did with your daughter before turning around and leaving, swearing to keep the silent promise with a newfound sense of determination.
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kaiser1ns · 28 days
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𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
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╹synopsis :: it doesn't take much to say or show you love someone even with the simplest of actions.
╹contents :: can be read as fem/gn reader; characters from blue lock, jjk and honkai star rail, FLUFF, ooc maybe?
╹notes :: as i was walking to go home at like 10pm i thought of this, hope you enjoy! added hsr specially for @okkalo ♡
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ITOSHI SAE immediately takes you out to visit the sea when he gets some days off. The sounds of the waves, the relaxing atmosphere and you in his arms calm him down causing him to flashback to his childhood memories of when he was just a small and carefree child wanting nothing more but to play football with his little brother and personal cheerleader.
Not only he is known as the strongest but GOJO SATORU is also known for having a very strong sweet tooth. So what does he do to reduce the sugar? He shares it with you because there is nothing better than sharing his favourite thing with his lover, so let's say he gets a double dose of chocolate and candy from just seeing you and that's enough.
AVENTURINE is not afraid to take the risk and his constant smile makes it difficult for people to guess his true intentions. Not with you though, he lets his guard down, your voice soothing him to help him relax and as he gets lost in your touch. He is not Aventurine of the IPC or the Ten Stonehearts, he is just Kakavasha the little boy who once dreamed of love and now he won the biggest treasure in his life — you.
ITOSHI RIN knows how much you don't like scary movies, and that's why when you come over for the weekends you watch movies or series of your choice, be it Barbie or The Lion King. He will swallow his ego and stop watching the weekly uploads of his favourite scary games just so you can't fall asleep on purpose because of the horror films.
GETO SUGURU can't stop talking about how beautiful, amazing, and kind you are. Mimiko and Nanako are tired because they are the only ones who get to hear all his murmuring when you are away even for only 5 minutes. But they know how much he loves you and how you breathe life into him, and he wishes that someday they will become like you — strong and good-hearted.
ARGENTI thanks and prays to Idrila every moment of his life for obtaining the biggest blessing to ever exist and that is meeting you. The Knight of Beauty makes sure to give you one red rose every day to express his profound love and admiration, it's a small gesture that symbolizes his devotion to the relationship. He should protect his lover and like flowers, the tender petals are directed to you, with the thorns to the cosmic and its danger protecting you
It may seem that he is spoiled, but in fact, NAGI SEISHIRO is not, well not that much. Sometimes he takes charge of the household chores, giving you, a well-deserved break. He washed the dishes, cooked you a meal (instant noodles), and even tried to fold the laundry. And you, pleasantly surprised, sank into the couch, embracing the rare luxury of relaxation as familiar songs from your shared playlist were playing on the TV. Even if it doesn't happen often you are forever grateful for your lazy boyfriend to do something like that.
ITADORI YUJI shows genuine interest and actively listens to you talking about your current obsession be it a series, celebrity, book, food, or anything. He loves your voice, seeing your beautiful smile, and how your eyes seem to sparkle as you talk, he is so lovestruck that he sometimes just stares at you with the most soft and genuine look. Just don't be surprised when you find some merchandise on your desk with a little love note, okay?
Engaging in meaningful conversations and connecting on a deeper level with DR. RATIO seems like every other normal day for him. He approaches every interaction with a thirst for knowledge. And you take him by surprise every time and he doesn't know what to do, the great genius suddenly stops functioning. The way you hold his hand, kiss his cheek, make him stutter — he goes crazy and questions himself about how there is no logical explanation for this, but there is, it is called love.
SHIDOU RYUSEI doesn't like to share his material possessions with anyone, he worked so hard to get the last volumes of Chainsaw Man as they are now put on the shelf in his bedroom. And imagine his reaction when he sees you reading volume 10 which has Makina on the cover, cuddled nicely with his blanket on the bed. How dare you read it without him? And so he jumps onto the mattress, squishing you because that's your punishment for not telling him. You apologized to him of course but for him to fully forgive you, next time you will be on anicon cosplaying Makima and Denji.
FUSHIGURO MEGUMI remembers the small details about you and your preferences. If you don't like a certain ingredient in the food, he will order the dish without it. You like to sleep on this side of the bed, no problem he will sleep on the other side as you both cuddle and drift to Dreamland. He will immediately notice the change in your mood and even if he is not so good with words, he will always be there for you offering his warm embrace.
As a Galaxy Ranger BOOTHILL tends to travel around the cosmos a lot and sadly he can't spend time with you. But when he's with you, one of the things you do is his hair and to put cute stickers on his metal hands or guns. The scary cyborg cowboy is now a pretty princess with pigtails, heart stickers and with a very happy lover. He watches you having fun with his makeover — and will do everything possible to spend more time with you.
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©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.
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gojonanami · 6 months
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IT'S A NEED - CHOSO KAMO
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✴︎ summary: after you take an attack meant for him, choso can't seem to understand why -- so you show him just how important he is to you. ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, angst then smut, choso is confused about human emotions, he doesn't know if he deserves love, making out, groping, sex (p in v), handjob (f! + m! receiving), semi-public sex (sort of), pet names (love, pretty, lovely) ✴︎ wc: 1,965
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“Why did you take that hit for me?��� his words come out in a hiss, a rush of breath that he forces out between gritted teeth, as if he was both afraid to ask and afraid not to, “it was foolish, it was unnecessary—” 
You blow out a sigh between your pursed lips, as you rest against a damp sheet against cold concrete of a corner of Shibuya that currently wasn’t under attack — the not too distant groans of other injured not too far, but far enough for your privacy, “You know why I did it, so why are you asking that, when you mean to ask something else?” 
And you knew him — knew him a little too well for someone who only had known him a few weeks now? Is that how long it had been since he had joined up with sorcerers? Switched sides to protect his little brother — and somehow, he ended up here — sitting next to you instead of him. Yuji could handle himself — he had faith in his brother — and he knew you could too. A skilled sorcerer — he saw your skill firsthand from a distance during the fights in shibuya, and then up close when you nearly caved his head in when you found out how he almost killed Yuji. 
Is that when he first started to like you? 
He didn’t know. 
Could he even have such emotions? He had never known any sort of love, except for that of his brothers. But that was natural? To care for his family, to watch after them, to protect them, to avenge them. And anything that helped him achieve that goal, was worth it was it not? Even if it came at the cost of a different life, right? His eyes slid to you again, so why did it huqrt so much when he saw you crumpled on the ground, blood pooling on the cement around your abdomen, the same blood he didn’t think twice about when it spilled from other humans or sorcerers alike. Now, it was different. 
He was different — maybe you were, to him. 
 “What question am I asking then?” he finally asks, as you only sigh again, eyes fluttering open to look at him with that same gaze that felt as if you were looking right through him. 
“You’re asking me why I thought you were worthy of being saved in the first place?” and his mouth parts — words ringing in his ear. 
It was true — he was a cursed womb — a mixture of curse and human blood that never was supposed to exist in the first place, a thing that has no other purpose in this world, aside from his brothers. And especially after the things he’s done, the people he’s killed, the harm he’s caused, and even the body he walks in now isn’t his own, but a person killed for his gain — how was he worthy of saving? How was he worthy of the risk of your life? 
“And what’s your answer?” he asks, his voice growing raw, as he can’t bear to look at you, his gaze fixed on his lap, and he doesn’t see you push yourself up, sitting, as you stare at him, lips curling in a small smile, as you leaned over, fingers brushing against his cheek, that finally pull his gaze back to you. 
“Because you’re Choso, because you deserve to be saved, you deserve the same kindness you’ve given to us,” your fingers are so gentle against him, had he ever been touched so gently before? His eyes almost feel the urge to shut, and just indulge in the feeling of your skin against his, “you didn’t ask to be here, you were manipulated, you were controlled, and you were forced to be a pawn,” 
“But that doesn’t change—” 
“It doesn’t change the hurt you caused, no, but that’s not who you are now,” you force him to meet your gaze, lips curled in a smile, “and who are now is definitely worth saving,” 
“But why?” he still doesn’t understand, he still doesn’t see his worth, and you give your third sigh, before your other hand finds his shoulder, pulling him closer, a breath away. 
“Do I have to spell it out for you, Choso?” your words warm his lips, and send warmth to the tips of his fingers, warmth he hadn’t known since he had been forced to come back. And all he can feel is your hands against him, all he can see are your eyes gazing at him the way he thought anyone would, and all he can think about is when your lips are finally going to touch his, “because I think I can only show you now,” and your thumb finds his lips, dragging down the bottom one, “would you want that?” 
And his eyes flutter, a sharp intake of breath when your finger touches his lips, “I don’t think I’d like anything more,” he whispers, his eyes falling to your lips, as you lean forward. 
Your lips brush his, featherlight, as if you worry he’d recoil, he’d run, he’d leave, but he does none of those things. Your lips part from his and he’s staring, as you do, before his lips seek yours again. And this time, he’s sure. 
His lips surge against yours, as you melt into his touch, as gentle as can be — those same hands used to slaughter, now grazing your sides as if you’d break apart in his hands. And he didn’t care if the world was falling apart — and it was all around you both — if he could have this moment with you, maybe it’d be worth it. 
“What is this hold you have over me?” He murmurs, and you’re pulling him closer to your tattered blanket against the concrete, fingers running through his hair making him shiver, “you touch me and I can’t think straight, I can’t—“ 
“Then don’t,” you murmur, your lips pressing butterfly kisses to his jaw, “give in, let me love you,” 
And he does, relinquishing his thoughts and worries in exchange for your touch, and his hands find your waist, as you move slowly, climbing into his lap, making him grunt, before concern flickers across his features. 
“Your injuries—“ he starts, but your lips brush against his ear, lips curved against the soft flesh. 
“Are not as serious as how much I want you right now,” your words send a shiver down his spine, as your lips find his again, and you swallow his groan with pleasure. Your tongue parts his lips, as you taste him, fingers carding through his jet-black locks, fingers pulling at the ties in his hair, pulling them around your wrists, “I’ll keep them safe,” you tease, you tug teasingly at his hair making him gasp. 
You’re pulling moans and whines from his lips, as you part from him for a moment, breaths coming as pants, as you press your forehead to his, taking in his now kiss ruined lips and violet irises glazed with lust, “so pretty,” you coo, “too pretty, Choso, how am I supposed to resist?” 
And your fingers find their way to his belt, pausing, “is this okay?” Your hand cups his cheek, thumb brushing the length, and he’s nodding wordlessly, as his fingers find yours, undoing his belt and letting his robe fall open. 
Your breath catches as you see him, your fingers dragging over his bare chest and abs, your eyes finding your way to his cock — it was so pretty, long and thick with a pretty pearl of precum. And your gaze is hot, hypnotized, “all this f’me?” You murmur, making him swallow, and then gasp as your fingers trace the vein running up the side. Your lips curl, “oh we’re just getting started, baby,” 
Your fingers curl around his cock, your thumb rubbing against his slit, making him hiss, “I—“ his hips stutter against you, bumping against your damp shorts, making you groan. And he was so good in your hand, how good would he feel inside?
No, not yet, you wanted to make him feel good first. 
“It’s okay, just breath,” your fingers tease his head, smiling as his head lolls back, and your hand begins to stroke him, spreading the precum along his length, “I got you, let me make you feel good,” 
And your hand squeezes at the base, and he’s groaning your name, like a curse, as your other hand teases his balls, before you’re slipping off his lap, pressing his tip against your lips, painting them with his precum.
“You taste so good, Choso,” you lick your lips clean of him, tasting his salty precum. 
“Please, love,” he’s murmuring, a whine in his throat, his fingers pulling at your clothes, “I want you—I want you to feel good too,” 
And you smile, guiding his hands to your shorts, “Are you sure?” You murmur, kissing his neck, “we don’t-“ 
He’s pulling your shorts off, as he’s lowering you onto the sheet gently, tugging them off, his calloused palms parting your soft thighs. And his gaze darkens, half lidded with lust, “You’re lovely,” his fingers brush against your soaked folds, thumb pressing against your puffy clit, making you gasp, “you like that?” He hums. 
And he’s leaning down, his lips brushing against your inner thigh, “Choso, please—“ and his breath warms your cunt, pressing a kiss to your dripping pussy, drawing a gasp from your lips, “I need you—“ 
“What do you need, pretty?” His velvet words are thick and slow like molasses, settling warm heat over your skin, as his hands draw up your thighs around his waist, “do you want my hands? My lips?” 
And your hips roll against him, his tip bumping against your cunt, “what do you think?” And he’s hissing, before he’s grasping as his dick, teasing you with his head, “fuuuck, Choso,” 
“Not so loud,” he murmurs, “someone could hear us, see you all spread out for me, and this view is just for me, lovely,” and his cock is parting your folds, both moaning in synchrony, your walls fluttering around him, “so tight, pretty, so fucking wet,” 
You think he’s even prettier, brow furrowed and forehead slick with sweat, kiss bitten lips parted in a pant, and his violet eyes fluttering. And he’s bottoming out in you, his hips pressed against you, “so good, so perfect,” he’s murmuring, and he’s pulling out only to thrust back in. His strokes are languid at first, before he’s fucking you in earnest, hips snapping against yours, “. 
“Choso, fuck, please, I’m close—“ your back is arching against him, and his lips find yours again in a searing kiss, as his fingers reach down between the two of you, and press against your clit, just as his hips piston into you just right with deep long strokes, until your walls are clamping down. He doesn’t last much longer, his hips stuttering against you, until he’s moaning, his hot load painting your walls white, as he fucks his cum into you. 
And he’s panting above you, as you pull him into a sloppy kiss, pulling him beside you, as he slips out of you, making you whine at the emptiness.
“Don’t think that was part of Shoko’s instructions for recovery,” you murmur against his lips, as you grin, “but it was definitely needed,” 
His lips curl, as he’s pressing kisses along your jaw, “So you need me, huh?” and the question fills him with warmth, just as you have, a sort of purpose he had never had, aside from his family — a want for him that he had never thought he’d be lucky enough to have. 
And you only smile, pulling him into another kiss, “Why else do you think I took that hit for you?” 
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✴︎ a/n: new episode did something to me. i have a longer fic planned for choso, but this will have to do for today :). yes i'm posting this in the middle of the night, sue me.
✴︎ tag list: @kakashineedstotouchgrass, @kemitoi, @thecooldino, @moonnime, @bontensbabygirl, @wretchedinfinity, @lemonpoppy-seed, @ichikanu, @snowscaping, @kamikokii, @fwankieero, @ssaraexposs, @astridyoo15, @cascading-escapist, @sniffsnoffsniff, @raddiplomatshepherdhero, @nverwashere, @n00v4, @unohanaswetdream, @staygoldsquatchling02, @anime9ja,
2K notes · View notes
oozedninjas · 8 months
Text
HARD CRUSH!
How different are Leo and Raph when they're in love?
Sfw + Nsfw / MDIN / +18 / Leo's 27, Raph's 26 / Thought for 2007, but I think it adapts cool to other verses.
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LEO
Every nuance of you doesn't escape his notice. He's the embodiment of observance, attentively absorbing every facet of your being. Your desires, dreams, beliefs, and thoughts, he listens to them all with keen interest.
The dilemma lies in his passive approach; he remains restrained in expressing his crush, riddled with self-doubt over jeopardizing your friendship. Still, there's a flicker of affection in the form of occasional winks, suggestive smirks, and inadvertent casual touches. It's as if these actions were mere happenstance.
When envisioning a relationship, Leo's thoughts teem with romance.
He's a daydreamer, imagining tender cuddles, soft kisses, and focusing on the intricate sensation of your lips meeting. He knows he'd excel as a boyfriend, ever ready to shower you with unwavering devotion.
Leo envisions a love that could cocoon you, enveloping you within his arms in the warmest embrace. But he restrains from confessing his emotions.
He believes you merit someone who can stand by you in daylight, attend family gatherings, join in celebrating birthdays, and accompany you through life's milestones.
Voicing his feelings, he fears, would convolute matters further, and complexities are the last thing he needs.
And during the nighttime, when those exhilarating thoughts begin to weave through Leo's mind, he cannot prevent the fantasies from taking shape.
He envisions whether you'd be quiet or loud if you'd squirm, let out soft moans if you'd want him to be above you, or taste you up.
Leo can't quite look at you the following morning.
RAPH
Raphael takes a more tangible route.
His attention homes in on your mouth, your laughter, your entire physique. He's an expert at deciphering body language, knowing precisely when and how to bridge the gap.
Wit flows effortlessly from him, each word carefully crafted to elicit your laughter.
Raph dedicates himself to crafting moments that resonate, subtly weaving a tapestry where you'd naturally seek his company.
It's a smokescreen for the torrent of affection he harbors. Just like Leo, the dread of risking your friendship hampers him from taking the leap. Besides, he's acutely aware of what he is: a sewer-dwelling turtle with little to offer beyond nocturnal escapes and thwarting villains.
He's not supposed to yearn for you to this extent. The priority should be what you rightfully deserve, yet whenever you smile at him as if he's the only one in the room, makes it more than impossible.
Soon, your scent becomes a dangerous feature, stirring something primal within him, a voice that insists he should claim you. Mark you up, keep you all to himself.
Fuck, it would be so good to feel your breath upon his lips as you whimper, pleading. Your nails scratching the edges of his shell as he buries himself deeper in you.
And Raphael loses sleep as he stares at the ceiling, imagining you're his. His to touch, his to kiss, his to protect.
1K notes · View notes
sgtgarricks · 2 months
Text
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ i want your hands on me for all my life
simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst, happy ending, mentions of simon's abusive past, talks about death, mentions of soap's death, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex, creampie!!, simon lets himself be happy yay
reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3
PREVIOUS PART: your gentle hands are enough
notes: this is the 2nd part for the people that want a happy ending :) this turned out sooo long LMFAO if you want to be sad just pretend this doesn't exist and read the other one! your feedback & comments help <3
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Simon had always excelled at compartmentalizing his emotions ever since he was a child.
Growing up with an abusive father and an older brother who has hell-bent on scaring him had forced him to develop self-preservation tactics in order to survive their torment. Dissociating was a daily occurrence in his childhood years — it helped Simon escape the pain and torment that was being inflicted on his body.
Being in the military has not been that different.
He was still dissociating, but he was no longer on the receiving end of thrown punches and insults. He was now the perpetrator inflicting agony on his enemies for the good of the world. To rid the world of filth.
Simon Riley had become the ultimate soldier — lethal, swift, quiet, and was immune to the horrors of war, which was no surprise considering he had spent most of his childhood learning to lock away all the negative emotions. The ability had become innate, bleeding into his daily life and in turn, his relationships.
When Simon walked out the door, he had left all the hurt and sadness in the apartment with you. He trusted you'd keep a part of him safe until he came back and even if he didn't.
Simon had whole-heartedly accepted the risk that comes with the job, fully prepared to lay his life down if it meant a better world than yesterday. In fact, Simon knew death more intimately more than anyone. He'd knocked on death's door multiple times but always seemed to come out alive.
It was easy for him to not think of you. The anxious voice inside his head becomes static as he engrossed himself in the mission. The hard part comes when the dust has settled — when all that remain are cold corpses and bullet casings.
Sitting in the helicopter all bloodied accompanied by the sound of whirring blades wasn't usually bad. It would give him time to sit down and process his emotions. It let him feel the slight guilt that never goes away when taking a life — no matter how rotten.
But with each mission he went on after his abrupt departure, he finds himself constantly ruminating his entire reason for not wanting to get into a relationship with you.
Simon had wanted you to move on from him when he died, eventually. Forget the bruised and battered soldier and find someone whole, someone who could be there for you and love you without causing you anxiety every time their phone rang.
He thought himself selfless for trying to spare you, but his entire reason collapses with every mission he comes back alive.
What was his excuse now? What was he protecting you from?
The voices slink back into his mind the moment he gains a moment of peace. Whispers planting seeds of doubt in his mind, feeding on his insecurity and his fears. They're ruthless and persistent.
You don't deserve them. They're too good for you. You're going to leave them one day anyway, why bother?
He feels a tightness in his chest, as if a phantom hand was squeezing his heart that sends pulses of pain through him. His hand shakes slightly, fingers moving absent-mindedly trying to remember the feel of your skin.
"You alright, Lieutenant?" His captain's voice breaks him out of his trance. Simon is slightly startled but doesn't let it show. He merely grunts.
"'M alright."
Silence engulfs them once more. It goes one for one, two, maybe three minutes. It's suffocating. Simon can read people well enough by now that he knows there are questions lingering in the back of John Price's mind.
A part of Simon wishes he'd just spit it out, but the thought of having to explain seemed worse. Instead, Simon settles with a silent huff as the helicopter continues on its designated course.
The second the helicopter landed, Price simply nods at him, trusting him to get his shit together and walks off to his office. Simon does his usual routine, though instead of rushing through the motions, he's intentionally prolonging each action.
Whereas normally he couldn't get out of this place faster, now he almost dreaded the moment he would have to leave. Staying at the base meant monotonous, dull, predictable tasks. Leaving means he has to choose where to go — he has to actively force himself to not drive straight to your apartment despite the fact that every fiber in his being longs to be close to you.
He feels sick, a kind of illness spreading inside of him that only ever felt better when you were around him. A dull ache inside his body that only lights up when you touch him.
He runs a hand to his now damp hair, content with sitting on a sofa in the rec room. Normally, the place would be bustling with recruits goofing around with each other. But one glance at the broodier-than-normal look on the lieutenant's face had created a force field that pushed away everyone as to not get caught in its storm.
Simon doesn't know how long he sits there, half of him trying to convince himself to not come to you. That you don't deserve the broken man with a penchant for violence.
Chuckling lowly to himself, he shakes his head. What kind of demented higher power decided someone as kind as you be plucked and dropped into his sights?
Fifteen minutes went by as he pities himself in the rec room before a shadow in his peripheral vision causes him to look up.
"L.T.," Kyle nods towards him, leaning on the doorframe.
"Garrick." Simon grunts dismissively, not saying anything more. He hops the sergeant will take the hint on his own and leave the miserable bastard to his own devices.
Kyle worries for Simon. The brooding giant seems more miserable than usual — not more than after the incident, but still. Typically, he wouldn't even be able to catch a glimpse of his lieutenant after coming back from deployment. He'd usually opt to disappear from the base in record time.
The fact that he's here now, instead of wherever he usually hangs around, is slightly concerning.
"You alright, L.T.?"
Simon turns to him, slightly annoyed. "Why does everyone keep asking me that? Yes, I'm alright." He huffs. Kyle merely shrugs, unbothered by the icy gaze directed at him.
"Well, seeing as you haven't fucked off from the base yet and it's been," Kyle checks his phone for the time, "Around an hour? I'd wager something is wrong."
Sometimes Simon hated how observant Gaz was. Kyle's always been attentive, even more so now without Johnny's presence. It wasn't a secret that Johnny had been the lieutenant's shadow — always lingering near him, cracking jokes and pulling his leg.
His absence had naturally left a gaping void in Simon, oozing all the pain and hurt that comes with losing a comrade. Simon isn't naive, he knows death comes as a package with being in the battlefield. He's seen his fellow soldiers die, held them as they bled out. It was why he tended to keep to himself. After all, the less people you know, the less funerals you have to go to.
This worked most of the time, anyone who got close to Simon would get his arctic stare and cower off — most of the time anyway. Johnny was a different case. Johnny was a little bit of a nutcase to be honest. A talented, bright, pyromaniac, the youngest ever to pass SAS selection, with an arsenal of jokes in his pockets. The blue-eyed Scotsman got along quickly with Kyle, bantering with each other easily as if they had been long-lost friends.
While Johnny still had reservations about dicking around with the captain, he didn't seem to have the same problem with Simon. Seemingly happy to chatter off in his ear about anything, whether it was about shitty food, a lady he picked up from a bar, or jabs directed at Simon.
Johnny's bright disposition put Simon on edge. He wasn't used to seeing someone not be terrified of him. No matter how many glares he sent him, the bugger wouldn't leave him alone. Johnny would continue to go out of his way to talk to Simon, to sit next to him during lunch, and sometimes, Johnny would even manage to get Simon to open up just a little.
"What's on yer mind, L.T.?" Johnny nudged Simon with his elbow. The two men were both sat at the bar, the TV playing an old recording of a football match. It had taken Johnny ten minutes to convince Simon to go out for drinks and he planned on taking full advantage of it.
Johnny had been talking non-stop for around five minutes about his sister who had just gotten married, waiting for a reaction from Simon who seemed distracted. His eyes had strayed to the other side of the bar a few times, barely noticeable to the untrained eye, but Johnny was anything but.
"Nothin'." Simon had grunted, tearing his gaze away. A giant smirk plastered itself onto Johnny's face.
"Ah, been starin' at the sad one across the bar, aye?" Seeing Simon's eye widen a little had made Johnny even more gleeful. "Go on then. Ye have my full permission to ditch me tonight." He teased, winking at his lieutenant.
"Don't know what you're talking about, Johnny." Simon had denied instantly, taking a sip of his drink. A normal person would have left it at that, but Johnny wasn't your average person. He loved starting fires and Simon was a flame he wanted to see lit.
"Ach, come on L.T. what's the harm, eh? A little bit of flirting never hurt anyone." Simon didn't know this but Johnny wasn't going to let this go. It was the first time Johnny had ever seen Simon show interest in someone and he'd do anything to get Simon to at the very least, talk to them.
"They're a civvy, Johnny. Not gonna take any chances." Simon shook his head adamantly.
"That's bollocks! All we do is take risks anyway, at least on this one the worst that could happen is getting a drink thrown in yer face." Johnny chuckles, peering at the person across the bar who was clearly nursing a broken heart. Simon still made no move to get up from his chair.
Praying to whatever God was listening, Johnny hoped Simon wouldn't kill him after what he was going to do. Calling over the bartender, Johnny slid the man a fifty.
"Mate, give 'em a refill yeah? Tell 'em it's from the big bloke over here." Johnny signaled the bartender. Simon, who had finally processed what Johnny was doing, couldn't even get a word in. The bartender hastily took the money and went back to his station, ignoring Simon's call.
Simon could only watch in despair as the bartender presented the drink and pointed towards Simon. He received a shy smile, a mouthed 'thank you', and an expectant look.
"Now you've got to go there, mate. Otherwise you'll look like an arsehole!" Johnny threw his arms up, grinning triumphantly. The sergeant crossed his arms and wiggled his eyebrows.
Simon could've easily ignored Johnny and went back to his drink. But a part of him couldn't deny that he wanted to go over there and maybe talk to someone else that wasn't Scottish for a change. Against his usual logic, Simon decided to stand up from his chair.
"You're an arsehole." A glare was sent Johnny's way, although it had no weight behind them. As Simon began to walk away, he could hear Johnny laughing loudly.
"Yer welcome!"
Simon had never told Johnny you were the person who had been texting him during deployment, but he knew deep down that Johnny already knew. He'd asked multiple times, even tried sneaking a look.
He simply didn't want to admit that Johnny forcing him to talk to you that day had shifted Simon's world. He wished he told Johnny.
"We all miss him, L.T." Kyle's soft voice spoke again. He's closer now, dragging a chair from a table and sitting in front of Simon. Kyle knew he could never fill the giant void that Johnny left, but he felt a sense of responsibility to at least try. Price had become more closed off after his death whereas Simon had slowly been unraveling, little stitches coming loose a day at a time.
"All we can do is make sure it's not in vain." Simon sighs, hearing Kyle's words, knows he's right. That he can't go back to expecting the worst all the time, constantly on edge.
Johnny had breathed life into his ghostly presence, bringing Simon back into the realm of the living. The more Johnny got out of the lieutenant, the more people were able to see that Simon wasn't merely a visage, a ghost roaming the hallway. That he was a real person.
He was throwing away his chance at a second life. Perhaps it was also a twisted way of Simon punishing himself. If he couldn't save Johnny, couldn't save the man who managed to get him to talk to you, then he didn't deserve you. It was a round-about way of him trying to mend off the guilt eating away at him that had inadvertently claimed another victim.
"Thank you, sergeant." Simon stood up. Clapping his hand on Kyle's shoulder.
I see you.
"Don't mention it, sir."
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The drive to your house takes around twenty minutes, which means that's all the time Simon has to try and figure out a way to atone for his sins.
They're too gracious to even hold a grudge against you. A small part of Simon tells him. While he hopes that's true, he still wants to apologize and acknowledge how unfair he's been to you. If not to make you feel better, at the very least it will ease his conscience.
He drums his finger on the steering wheel, the radio turned on but on low volume. For once, Simon wishes he had Johnny's ability to get out of problems with his alluring words and his kicked-puppy look.
Lost in his own thoughts, he hadn't even realized he's been sitting in his parked car for a few minutes. He clasps his hands when he realizes they're shaking. God, he was so terrified. Not of you, no. He was scared of having to see what he's done to you. Is terrified of really seeing the carnage Simon Riley had tore in you.
He lets out a bated breath and opens the car door. He knows you're home by now, probably cooking away while listening to some indie band. Resting his head on your door, he braces himself once more, and knocks.
He waits, the seconds feeling like hours. The door swings open and he sees your surprised face.
"Simon." You compose yourself immediately, not wanting to show any sort of weakness in front of him. Something twitches on the corners of his mouth hidden by the balaclava. As if realizing he's still wearing it, he takes it off.
"Can I come in?" He asks timidly, as if approaching a wounded animal. He had no idea how you'd react after him being gone for so long. Even during his three month deployments, he'd sometimes text you once every fortnight. But after the way he left things, he couldn't bring himself to message you at all. Couldn't even stomach the thought of you still pining over him after what he had done. It was easier for him to simply block your number. Photos of sunsets and coffee cups gathering dust in his photo album, unsent.
You didn't even think about it, your body unconsciously moving sideways to let him in. A part of you screams at yourself.
Idiot, show some dignity.
It had been so easy for you to let the man who had left you for six months without a word back into your apartment, into your life.
You felt like an addict. Constantly begging for your next fix and taking whatever scraps are thrown your way. It's pitiful, but you're too far gone, anyway. His dirty boots make contact with your hardwood floor, leaving small specks of mud on them. Simon notices the frown marring your face and begins to unlace his boots.
"Sorry." He apologizes, neatly tucking away his muddy boots at the side of your door. You close the door behind him, making your way towards your kitchen. The plate clatters loudly in the sink as you haphazardly put them away, clearly rattled.
Simon coughs slightly, words stuck in his throat. He'd prepared a small speech earlier yet all the words seem to escape him. All the courage he had mustered for his little speech all had but disappeared into thin air. He feels out of his depths, not used to being vulnerable.
"What are you doing here, Simon?" Your voice sounds so tired. He supposes he was to blame for that.
"Can we talk?" He sends you a pleading look, hoping you still felt a sliver of the love you used to harbor for him — the only thing stopping you from kicking him out.
"Oh, so after blocking me and radio silence for six months you've decided you want to talk?" The bitterness seeps into your words like venom. He can't even make himself physically recoil from the sharp edge of your tone. Simon can feel the thin rope right beneath his feet, one wrong step and he'd be falling off the edge.
He takes a deep breath. "I deserve that."
"Oh, you deserve more than that Simon Riley. I should kick you out right now." You were huffing now, going slightly red in the face. Had he not been so anxious he might've thought you look cute. But right now? He was downright terrified.
"Just-" Simon pinches his nose bridge, calming himself down. "Let me speak for a moment, yeah? After that if you want me to leave, I'll leave." He holds both his hands up.
You were livid, rightfully so. The man you love had essentially decided he didn't want to communicate with you anymore, breaking your heart. The first week you thought maybe something had happened to his phone, broken it maybe?
As the weeks turned into months, the realization dawned on you that he had purposefully blocked you, cut off all contact. At first there was only sadness. You spent your days crying into your blanket, some days barely functioning. The hurt and betrayal had emotionally drained you. Did all those years mean nothing to him?
You knew he had a hard time expressing his emotions, but never in your wildest dreams did you think he would throw you away just like that. Like you were nothing more to him than a good fuck. Despite your head telling you otherwise, the emotional baggage he had left you with didn't leave much option.
It was easier to hate him than to accept maybe he didn't love you at all.
You spent the first few months cursing into the wind hoping it'd somehow hurt him a fraction of how much he hurt you. Afterwards, the pain became a lingering , dull ache, but not debilitating anymore. It became a constant that you carry everyday.
Kicking him out the door was tempting, but you knew it wouldn't do you any good. If anything, the words left unsaid would become a leech — slowly draining away your curiosity until you eventually leave another voicemail.
You give him a pointed stare before sitting down on the couch. Simon slowly approached you, wanting nothing more than to sit next to you but choosing to sink into the other side of the couch. He sees you cross your arms, feeling more uncomfortable by the second.
"I jus' wanna say that I'm sorry." He stares into your eyes, slouched with elbows on his thighs. Seeing your mouth thin into a line, Simon knows he's going to have to do a lot better.
"When Johnny died..." Your eyes widen, arms slacking slightly. He'd talk about Johnny sometimes but sometime ago had entirely stopped mentioning his name altogether. You had suspected something terrible had happened but you didn't want to believe it.
"I was so angry. It's not fair. He was so young, had his whole future ahead of him. Told me he was gonna see his sister's newborn on his next leave." He breathes out, clenching his fists.
"All of that, gone. We haven't even caught the bastard yet." Simon runs an exasperated hand through his face. Your arms were no longer crossed, choosing to fiddle with the edge of your shirt. You wanted to comfort him so badly, wanted to take him into your arms and tell him everything's going to be okay. But he was still pouring his heart out and you wanted to greedily snatch every piece he was willing to give.
"I had constant nightmares for months. Sometimes, I still do. You're just a heavy sleeper, I suppose." He chuckles and catches the way the edge of your mouth turn up.
"It's never easy, losing someone. It changes you. I used to hear his nonsense almost everyday and now it's just not there. I'm terrified one day it'll be like he was never there at all." Simon looks away, blinking tears away.
"But he was there. I know that. I felt him. He was like the fucking sun, but instead of being 150 million kilometers away, he's next to my ear with his Scottish nonsense." Simon chuckles bitterly, reminiscing the times when Johnny had to translate his gibberish.
You stay quiet, letting him speak freely. You had a feeling where this was going and how Johnny's death had indirectly impacted your relationship.
"If I died tomorrow, would you be okay?" His question catches you off guard. It was a question you've pondered a thousand times before, and every time you only ever came up with one answer.
"No." You answer honestly, because you'd break either way. Whether it was tomorrow or a year from now. You can feel a part of Simon in your bloodstream that if he died, some part of you would die with him.
"I only ever wanted you to be okay." He straightens, testing the waters by moving closer to you. You let him.
"Would you prefer if I never loved you at all?" Your heart was thumping loudly in your chest you worried he could hear it.
"No." His answer was immediate, as if he'd never been as sure before. "Not selfless enough for that."
"Then are you selfless enough to accept that I would want it to hurt?" You put your hand on top of his, gently grasping them within yours. Simon feels the broken pieces of him mending together.
He's quiet, not sure how to respond. He didn't use to understand why people would put themselves on the line, but he's starting to.
"If you died, I'd want it to hurt. I'd want it to take my breath away. I'd want it to keep me awake at night. I'd want every single bone in my body to ache when you're gone, because that would mean I have loved you with all of me."
You don't realize you'd started crying. There was no distance anymore between you and Simon. His thigh pressed against yours as you clutch his hand to your chest.
"I want it to hurt so badly, because I want to love you deeply." Tears were streaming freely down your face you couldn't even stop them even if you wanted to.
"Simon, will you let me hurt for you?"
And he lets you.
"Okay." His hand go to engulf your frame, but you had thrown yourself at him before he managed to. Simon can feel his shirt getting wet, he'd never thought he'd be slightly happy over the fact that you were crying.
Everything's going to be okay.
Your head was now on his collarbone, his palm gently holding you there. You feel a kiss on the top of your head as he strokes it.
Neither of you know how long you simply cried on him, much less when you ended up on his lap. When he heard you stop — tired from the energy you exerted, he slowly rearranges his body so that you are able to lie fully on top of him. His sore back is the last thing on his mind as he sees your peacefully sleeping away.
A pounding headache eventually woke you. You weren't sure if last night really happened or if your mind had conjured a scenario where Simon came back for you. However, the sweltering heat you feel on your midsection proves otherwise.
He really was here.
His eyes were closed, seeming to be asleep. You test the waters, placing your palm on the left side of his face. A hand immediately darts towards your hand and keeps it there.
"Put some pills on your nightstand for the headache." He murmurs, eyes still closed. His face turns slightly, placing a kiss on your palm. Even after half a year away, he still knows you like the back of his hand.
Leaning in, you give him a peck on the cheek. As much as you want to drink in the sight of him, there were more pressing matters at hand. You need the reassurance. You need him to tell you he wasn't going to abandon you again.
"Simon, did you mean it?" You can't get the entire words out, can only hope it was enough to convey your tumultuous emotions. His heart aches that you don't believe him, but he understands.
"I love you, sweetheart." Soft lips descend upon your own, barely brushing.
"'M here to stay as long as you want me here." He sneaks a hand under you, pulling you closer to him. There isn't any part of you that's not connected to him in some way.
He was so warm, scorching you inside out. You wanted his flame to burn every inch of your skin. When he left, everything felt cold to the bone, your life turning into muted blues and grays.
Simon brought warmth into your life, with his little acts of service. With the little trinkets he brings back after deployment because it reminded him of you. With his gentle hands, gentle kisses — his gentle self.
"I love you, Si." You whisper, grabbing him by the neck and lowering your lips onto his. Brushing softly, you were going to pull away when Simon lets out a moan. Heat builds inside of you as you slip your tongue inside his open mouth. He grunts in surprise, holding you still for a second. But you're impatient.
"Need you." You whine, "Want you so much, Si."
"Yeah?" He mumbles against your lips, running his hands through your hair gently.
"Thought I'd be in the dog house much longer than that, love." He teases you. Simon yelps slightly when you retaliate by biting on his lower lip. He grips both your cheeks with his fingers, pushing you away from him.
"That wasn't very nice of you, hmm?" He gently shakes your head, grinning handsomely. "Think you need a little lesson in being nice, sweetheart. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent teacher." He leans in and kisses your puckered lips, working his way downwards.
His hands wander everywhere, working themselves underneath your shirt. You feel goosebumps rise where his fingertips lay, shivering under his hold.
"Missed you so much, Si. Please." Your moans echo throughout the room. He's holding your thighs together as he trails down your body as you writhe.
"Missed you too, love. Fuck, missed you so fucking much." He manages to say. He cups your ass as he mouths at your panty-covered mound. Your juices seep through the fabric, making Simon groan.
"Mmm.. Someone missed me too." He runs his tongue up and down your slit as you cross both your legs behind his neck. He felt you clench your thighs and he feels blood rushing downwards. Turning his head slightly to the right, he nips lightly at your inner thigh.
He'd barely touched you but here you are already begging for it. Simon Riley has you wrapped around his finger and it scares you a little how much of a hold he has on you. You had bared your neck so openly for him and he had bit down the first chance he got.
"Will you let me take care of you, love? Make you feel good." He hums, fingers trailing along your inner thigh waiting for permission. You nod fervently before realizing he can't see you.
"Yes, yes, yes. Need you to take care of me, Si." Your heart was beating fast out of anticipation.
"Yeah? I'll make you feel good, baby." He coos at you as his fingers slowly pull down your panties. Strings of your juices were sticking to the insides. He threw them aimlessly, eyes zeroed in on your wet pussy.
His finger runs through your folds, making squelching noises. "All this for me, hmm?" He tilts his head up, pinching when you don't reply immediately. The sudden sensation makes you whimper.
"All for you, Si. Just for you." You were panting heavily as Simon sucks your clit into his mouth and licks in a circular motion. You thread your fingers in his hair, not tugging harshly.
Simon laps at your pussy like a starved man, burying his entire face in your warmth. He moans between every few licks, the taste of you dazing him. Your eyes glaze over as you see the man you love pleasuring you with earnest. He continues for a while, alternating his focus between your bud and your folds.
When you tug at his shirt impatiently, Simon grunts. He gets up and throws his shirt over his head. Not one second after it's off, you begin to paw at him, desperate to feel every inch of him.
Simon thinks he's never seen such a beautiful sight. Your hair was messy from your movements, eyes hazy as he can feel goosebumps on his body where you stare. He grabs your face and kisses you desperately, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. His clothed bulge was grinding messily against your wet pussy as his boxers begin to darken from the wetness.
Simon's whimper fill the room when he feels you grinding upwards to rub yourself on his cock. He pulls from your lips with a string of saliva. Not waiting for him, you scramble to take off your shirt, baring your tits to him.
His eyes drink in the state of you greedily, one hand groping your tits as the other travels down to your pussy. You were beyond wet enough for his cock, but he's determined to make you cum on his fingers first.
Two fingers slip into you gently. The stretch catches you off guard, it's been a while since you've had his thick fingers probing inside you. His fingers were thrusting shallowly as you grind on his palm.
"Fuck, Simon. Feels so good." You babble, barely able to keep your eyes open, the pleasure overwhelming your senses.
"Yeah? Gonna make you feel even better." With that, his fingers thrust deeper into you, massaging your spot. Your back arches as Simon plants his face on your chest, sucking on your nipples.
He crooks his fingers slightly as he continues thrusting, his palm touching your clit with each time. You couldn't stay still anymore, moving your hips back to meet his thrusts.
The room was filled with wet, squelching noises and your combined moans. Your hands were gripping his bicep, feeling the large muscle flex under your fingertips.
His thick fingers continue his ministration as you begin to climb higher and higher. Your walls begin to pulse and constrict his fingers. Sweat drips down his forehead as he continues to drive into your pussy with his deft fingers.
"You gonna cum on my fingers, love?" He teases, placing kisses all over your damp face.
"Yes, oh fuck. Please, please let me cum."
Simon grins against your neck, placing sloppy kisses all over. His fingers begin to speed up even faster, hitting your sweet spot with every effort. You feel the familiar tingling sensation begin to build in your core.
Your legs begin to tremble as you struggle to get air inside of your lungs. Panting harshly, you close your eyes as your orgasm starts to reach its peak.
His hand leaves your tits as they begin to rub circles on your clit. The combined assault on your clit and your pussy brings you over the edge.
"Look at me when you cum." Your eyes open immediately as you find him staring directly into yours. Your legs tremble deliciously, hands gripping Simon even tighter as you feel your orgasm wash over you. Mouth agape, your back continues to arch as Simon doesn't stop, overstimulating you with a few shallow thrusts.
Simon's hand was covered in your juices as he slowly withdraws them. Your pussy clenches, feeling empty. He brings his fingers to your mouth and taps your lips. Obediently, you open your lips and let him slide his fingers inside your mouth.
Circling your tongue all finger, your eyes begin to close again. When you blink them open, you see Simon's bare body hovering above yours. His cock was standing proudly, shiny with precum. You feel the urge to take his cock into your mouth. When your hand tries to reach for him, it's stopped by his firm grip.
"Next time, yeah? Need to fuck your pretty pussy, baby." He slowly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping them on his hip. He repositions his cock at your pussy, sliding the head up and down your folds.
Tilting your head down, you see Simon's hand grip his cock firmly as it slowly rubs his precum all over your pussy. He groans seeing your juices mix together. Moving your hips upwards, you try to push his head in and he hisses.
He grabs your hips and gently lowers them on the bed. "You just lay there and take it, yeah? Let me do all the work." You preen, more than happy to lay there and see him move above you.
"Put it in, Si. Missed your cock so much." You whimper, pressing delicate kisses on his neck. He nudges your nose with his, capturing your lips into a kiss. Your moan gets interrupted by your own grunt of surprise as the head of his cock slips in.
His cock was thicker than his two fingers, with veins running all over the shaft rubbing your walls deliciously. You link your legs behind his waist, helping him push deeper.
When he's inside you, it's like two pieces of puzzle fitting together. His cock fit so perfectly inside you, as if you were made for him and him for you. You knew Simon was it for you a long time ago, falling head over heels so easily for the grumpy soldier. You weren't happy at how long it took him to come to his senses, but you're glad either way.
He thrusts slowly, going deeper with each shift of his hips. His tongue tangles with yours as wet noises fill the room. You know when he's pushed in to the hilt when you feel him bump against your cervix slightly. Your pussy clenches at the tiny pain, causing Simon to moan out.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so well, sweetheart." He stays there for a moment, grinding his cock inside. You only stop kissing when you pull away to beg him to start moving. Both his hands are placed firmly on your hips when he begins thrusting.
He moves back and forth slowly, the walls of your pussy feeling every drag of his big cock. You hiss against his mouth, the sensation lights up every nerve in your body. You beg him to go faster but he ignores you, continuing to sink slowly.
When you're about to wail at the pace again, he thrusts sharply — his cock sinking deep into your pussy. You gasp, clawing his back when he continues to move slowly but going deep with each thrust. You can hear the sound of his balls smacking against your ass.
Your combined juices were dripping out of your pussy, causing wet noises whenever he moves inside you. You don't know how long he continues his brutal motion, your eyes dazed and breath unsteady.
You've never felt this way before. It feels as if he's everywhere inside you, there isn't a part of you that doesn't feel touched by him. He thrusts as if he's trying to imprint himself in you, trying to permanently leave a mark.
"Such a pretty pussy. Doing so well f' me, sweetheart. You gonna let me cum in you? Gonna let me fill you up nicely?" He grunts, his composure starting to unravel. His cock begins to piston in you messily as he loses himself in your pussy.
"Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, love you so much, Si. Need your cum in me." You cry out desperately, tightening your legs and pulling him deeper inside you.
"So good to me, love. Letting me cum in your pretty pussy." His form begins to shake slightly from exertion. You know his hands were going to bruise your hips from how hard he was gripping them but you couldn't care less.
Your body moves up and down from the force of his thrust. His cock touching your cervix with each delicious thrust. Your pussy begins to pulse wildly on his cock as you feel another orgasm build inside you. When his cock begins to pulse, your eyes roll to the back of your head as it sends you over the edge. You moan out his name loudly, pulling him by the neck to your chest as his arms hug you to him.
You feel his desperation and love when he holds you. He hugs you so tight to him your ribs ache. You never want this feeling to go away.
"I love you so much, fuck." Your orgasm triggers his own, his cock pulsing as his creamy load fills up your pussy. He's so snug inside your pussy the excess cum begins to drip out. When he stops unloading inside you, he moves slowly, thrusting a few times shallowly. A part of him wants to look at the way his seed drips from your pussy but he didn't want to move away from you.
You both pant with eyes closed as your breathing begins to even out. Simon slowly pulls out and you hiss at the feel of his cock leaving you empty. You look down and see his cock covered in his cum and yours.
Your head falls back down to the pillow, eyes closing shut. Simon stares at the ceiling and huff, righting himself. You feel him plant a kiss to your forehead as the bed dips.
"'M gonna go clean us up, yeah? You stay there." You hear him step into the bathroom, going to wash himself and grab a clean towel to clean up your mess. By the time he came back, you had already passed out, judging by the sound of your low snores.
He begins to wipe your thighs and try to dry the surrounding areas as best he can. He'll change the sheets later when you're well-rested. Simon climbs into bed, hugging you to him. He runs his fingers through your hair, slowly unknotting them one by one.
He stares at your sleeping from and grins. Lowering his lips to yours, he keeps them there for a few seconds.
"I love you."
You can only mumble in response, too tired to properly articulate the words.
"I love you too, Simon."
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shanieveh · 10 months
Text
HAUNTED BY THE GHOST OF YOU *ੈ✩‧₊˚
no matter what he does, he can never deny that you were the greatest love of his life
KAMISATO AYATO who scarcely shows real emotion, who puts on a facade of masks and fake gestures was now charming his new bride to gain her favour. He can describe his new bride with just one word. Perfect. Unlike you, who messily eats the sweets that he stole from the tea house, or laughs crazily when you tease him so. The life he now lives was one from paintings and models, standards and perfection. But it was all fake, a charade, and only in the nights in the place where you said your goodbye, can the cowardly man finally put off his mask and reveal what he truly was. A lie.
SCARAMOUCHE who did everything to have a heart, even if it meant to discard you, to never see you ever again. And now he did, but the feeling of emptiness had never been so obvious. He was now a God, just what he wanted, but he no longer can be with you even if that's what he needed. To be with a person that actually cared, that never abandoned him. Not when he was the one who left, and he always denied that he was the reason why you're gone. That you were the reason his heart now restored, had never felt this empty. But deep down he knew, that a life with you was better than this.
KAEYA who spends all his time in the tavern, doing everything to erase the pain, to escape reality. His once carefree and seemingly sly like nature was now reduced to tatters who hoped that everything that has happened was only a dream. You didn't leave him, but you did. Who wouldn't leave a loser, a coward and inferior to his brother? He couldn't even face his past nor future, he couldn't even be the man you deserve. It was so clear as to why you left, but you never knew how he would risk all for you. His identity, his titles, his very life. You didn't know how he will leave it all behind, just to see your smile again. Just for you to break his heart again.
DILUC was someone that everybody knew, and everybody was scared of.. But when you gave him that look of fear, that look of judgment, he can't help but be jealous of the ordinary townsfolk that just run up to you and be with you. But sometimes he believed it was right to scare you off. To make you think that he didn't love you. At the very least you won't be tied into the danger that comes with being with him. Even if every corner of his mansion was filled with your memories, he will survive this pain. The pain of seeing you so happy with another man, and the consequence of knowing that the both of you can never be together.
KAVEH who made you his muse. His very existence was dedicated for you. His dreams, his passions, his love it was all for you. And now he orders two ice creams, remembering how you weren't there to eat the other once. Making a portrait for the wedding you both will never have. Maybe just like last time, it was all his fault. Maybe his fate lies in always being alone, in being a failure to everyone he loves. To always say the wrong words, and doing the wrong things. And he will act like nothing happened, that nothing bad was there. Because he doesn't deserve to grieve when it is his own undoing.
ALHAITHAM believed that dreams are never real, that they are just a gist of imagination by childish youngsters. But being with you finally made him realize the beauty of it all, and losing you made him see how it can make him crazy. Seeing you there, but never touch nor feel. Loving you from afar, but never up close or near. He stands as a lone man, that had his life all planned out, who knows what he wants to do and don't. But he never planned to love you, but he did, he never planned to lose you. Easy they come, easy they go a wise man said but never added how hard it is to let go.
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gift-of-prophecy · 6 months
Text
cemetery girl - mike schmidt
summary: mike works hard and deserves the best treatment, the reader gives that to him... and doesn't let up until he's crying and begging.
a/n: cross posted from ao3 (also @/gift_of_prophecy) fnaf changed my brain chemistry and this creation was born in the middle of the night when i saw it, i've just been too lazy to post it until now (also sorry about everything else i've promised to post, my brain is only letting me think about jhutch)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, kinda fluff, established relationship, overstim, bj, cowgirl, fem!reader, sub!mike schmidt
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His hands shot up to his face, covering his pathetic scrunched up expression, but his moans still seeped through his skin and filled the little bedroom. She hadn’t let up, mouth still playing with his cock like somehow blowing him was a treat for her. He’d already cum, already watched her drink him all in and now he was left on the brink of tears as she was practically french kissing his shaft, denying him time for refractory and instead somehow willing his dick to harden up against her soft lips.
“Please~” He whined, followed by a string of pants, this had to be some form of torture. “Ha… Why are you… why are you doing this?”
“Such a good boy,” She spoke between pecks, “So hard on yourself, you deserve someone treating you all nice,” Her eyes found his from between his legs, peering up at him like cat about to pounce, “Wanna make you feel good over and over and over.” The hypnotic mantra barely carried to his ears as she slobbered down his cock and took him to the back of her throat once again. He was milked dry, but still she sucked like she was trying to take something from him. The palm of her hand sent chills up his sweat slick body as it found rest on his balls, fondling and playing with them in her grasp. He bucked wildly, leaving her to gag happily knowing he had completely lost control over himself, too blissed out with pleasure to be shy and gentle. He couldn’t bear the sight of her on him: her cheeks hollowed out and her pink lips creating a delectably tight seal around his girth. Watching his dick get used like that, being at her will, knowing she wanted to treat him to a night of pleasure so drawn out and good that it felt torturous, he hit another peak. Only difference this time, he was shooting blanks. It was the first time something like that ever happened. While he wasn’t the most experienced in the world, the small handful of women he had had the chance to spend the night with never went further than sex that felt necessary; this… this was a catered experience, one that only happened because he was willing to spend all night tangled up with her. There were no risks with her, for once something in his life was simply rewards. In the moment, it would be shallow to call this love, to only say “of course I’d spend the rest of my life with this person” when they were gorged on his dick like their life depended on it, but he would have meant it. He would never have let himself be… free in this way if he hadn’t been fully committed to her body and soul. Mouth unyielding and love swelling in his chest, he knew this would be the longest night of his life. He was crying now. His face was wet with sweat and tears, this had to be what dying felt like. She pulled off of him with an un-suctioning pop. 
“Give me the word, sweet pea, I’ll stop,” She rose from the position she was crouched in, leaning forwards and taking his cheek in her palm, wiping away the wet. She looked like an angel with the backlighting from the moon. He couldn’t speak, just resigning to shaking his head. Who was he to stop her from having him just how she wanted? He found it criminal to deny her anything she wanted. She leaned down, pressing a chaste, borderline polite, kiss to his lips. “My sweet baby, you’re just gonna let me do anything to you, huh?” She gently laughed. That was definitely a soft way of calling your boyfriend a slut. Like a slut, he wildly nodded, words still trapped in the recesses of his throat behind moaning sounds he almost couldn’t believe were coming out of his mouth. She interlocked her hands with his before bringing her hips down to meet his and create a delicious friction on his cock between the lips of her pussy… how romantic. She ground down, sopping wet from seeing him become a crumpled mess of a grown man, grinding forwards and back. She moaned out with him now, maneuvering to just barely tease her clit on it in the process. His cock twitched against her. “He just doesn’t quit,” Again from the mockery, “Oh~ you’re twisted,” She wickidly grinned as if she were not enactor of his torture. 
“Yer evil,” He gritted out, not meaning a single pussy drunk thing he choked out.
“Awe come on… wanna ride that thick cock til I can’t feel my legs.”
“I don’t… I don’t have it in me…” His eyes were already rolling into the back of his head as she changed pace again.   
“We both know that that's not true,” She disapprovingly clicked at him through her teeth. She leaned forward, mouth beside his ear. “Then how come yer hard again?” She bit down on his earlobe and he groaned, thrusting his hips upward against her wet center.
“Need to be inside of you, please, please. I need it so bad,” The words were all spilling out now in a desperate fury as he felt how she was almost gushing over him, “All I ever wanted, come on, you said I was a good boy. Please~ please please, prove it, show me how good I am then, please~” She smiled, winning. Lifting her hips up, she sank down so unbearingly slowly according to the way he got immediately huffy, but that was the thing about sex with him, she was always forced to reacclimate to the deliciously tingly stretch of his girthy cock. It was nothing she would ever complain about: a delectable weepy boyfriend who always had these giant puppy dog eyes whenever he looked at you and the most perfect cock to ever be attached to a man’s body. She almost didn’t believe it when she saw it for the first time, he acted like no one ever let him know he was practically wielding a weapon when he got hard. She could fuck herself silly on it before she ever even hit her release, just filling her guts with it. 
“Fuck~” He was about halfway in as her walls began to flutter, sending insane sensations through an already raw dick. The burn had her head thrown back in ecstacy. Another moan spilled out and her pussy swallowed up his dick in one slick movement, bottoming out and feeling his dick throbbing within her velvet walls. She gave herself a moment, breathing in time with one another, eyes shut just focusing on the burn. Mike’s hands slipping from hers went unnoticed until a heavy handed thumb landed on her clit. A moan ripped from her throat at the sudden pressure. “Fuck, Mike, fuck, fuck.” Like a chain reaction, thrusting towards the fiery feeling of his digit on her had him shift inside of her and all at once, like a well oiled machine, they began to move in sync with one another, meeting each other in each thrust. His thumb made tight circles on her clit before her hand clamped around his wrist. 
“Wha-”
“Nuh uh, gonna cum with you… too pretty looking like this.” He wanted to tell her the same thing as he was watching her take him fully over and over again, “I was already too close watching you get worked up like that,” Who sent this angel to him? “Practically rubbing myself raw looking at you like that.” He was like porn to her, something she could sit back and watch get broken down by pleasure and cream her jeans over like some sort of horny teen. It was just so much sweeter that she got to be the one doing the breaking. She slowed her thrusts, now pulling herself all the way off and then sliding all the way to hilt; the life was being strangled out of him, there were more tears. His tip just barely kissed her cervix each time she filled herself and it made her shiver deliciously. “Fuck, so good, yer so good.” His dick would have gotten harder if it could have. Each pretty praise she sang of his made him want to flip her onto her back and pound her full of cum, but he couldn’t when he was so weak, completely at her mercy. She deserved the mind numbing pleasure tenfold compared to him, there couldn’t be anyone else on the face of the earth willing to dismantle a man piece by piece and take care of him every step of the way. To not humiliate him, but to brush his hair from his eyes and press warm, joyful kisses to his skin and prove that even after another difficult day, she’d still be there just for him. There was a pause as she bottomed out again, followed by a transition, a grinding, forwards and back. Her white knuckle grip released his wrist finally, his thumb immediately finding its place he knew so well. She squeezed so tightly around him now, constricting in a borderline masochist way that had Mike’s teeth gritting. Her body was thrumming as she approached a peak, his cock now manipulated deliciously to grind her g-spot to high hell and his calloused thumb waltzed in memorized circles on her clit. With shaking, trembling legs, she cried out as she came, pussy strangling and drenching his dick as her iron grasp had him orgasming once again. It was like he couldn’t breath as he fought to come down again, the thought crossed his mind of being stuck like this forever as it felt never ending in the moment, what tasty suffering he’d be sentenced to. She continued to grind as she rode out her high, panting and puffing, her tits heaving with each heavy breath. If he could have taken a photo… he would have, and he would have kept it on him at all times. There couldn’t be a better sight in the world, he was sure of it.
Slowing to a complete stop, she pulled herself off of him, resigning to the spot beside him on the bed. They breathed into a peaceful albeit sweaty silence. She stared over at Mike, at his pretty pussy drunk expression. 
“C’mere,” She gestured, opening her arms for him, the poor boy needed to be held after everything she had just put him through. He barely had the strength to scootch into her arms. She hummed a content laugh as he found his place resting on her chest. They both had arms around one another, tangled and grasping as if the other would go somewhere. “Thank you.”
“Thank me?” The pitch of his voice raised in shock briefly, “Whuddya mean?” He slurred, “Thank… thank you.”
“Jus, letting me do all that to you, letting down your walls enough to let me take care of you.” She petted his wavy mop of black hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head which he then in turn mimicked back by kissing the hot skin of her chest. “You deserve it.” His heart fluttered in his chest, wedding bells ringing in his ears. 
“No one deserves all this,” She let out a confused noise like she got something all wrong, “Deserves you. S’like you’re sent from heaven or something…” His words trailed off. 
“You need to get some sleep.” But she was sure he was asleep before she even finished her sentence, quietly breathing a bit deeper than before. She chuckled to herself, pressing another kiss to his head before letting her eyes close and drifting off with him.
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thatfreshi · 7 months
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As a prompt - maybe Astarion (or Tav for that matter) going absolutely feral (and i mean really) when someone or something hurts badly the other (or try to) ?
I don't know of it has already been donc by you and if it has sorry, really appreciate your writing though ! Thank you <3
Learning to trust is difficult
tw - themes of death, talk of injuries
"I just don't know how you don't seem to care! It's bad Astarion, really bad, and I'm not going to sit here and watch you hurt."
While you and the vampire were on night watch, you got jumped by some thieves scrounging around in the woods of the Sword Coast. He took the brunt of the fight, taking quite a couple slices to the abdomen.
"We'll wait til morning, like I said. Shadowheart will be rested by then, and we'll all be fine."
"Oh right, so you can bleed out? You think you're such a jester, don't you."
You already dealt with the perpetrators, making sure they were flayed across the grass, any hopes they had of stealing from you shot down from miles away.
"If it were that bad I would wake her Tav, but it's not."
Gods, he's frustrating. Driving you to the point of madness, constantly. For someone who finally has a second chance at life, he can be quite reckless. Instead of trying to argue with him further, you walk over to where he's propped himself against his bedroll, and start undressing his wounds. He almost tries to push you away, but the lightest touch of the cuts makes him lose his strength.
"Tav, stop it."
"No! Because you can wrap these all you want, but if you leave these like this overnight it's going to get nasty, and I know for a fact you can't stitch wounds like this."
"Then it is was it is."
"No, I'm getting her. Stay here."
Astarion grabs at your wrist. There's a dreary silence for a moment, and he refuses your eye contact.
"I've done this by myself, for how long? Do you have any idea what it makes me feel like, having to turn to someone who is practically a stranger, and put my life in their hands? I did that once my love, and I have regretted it ever since."
And you know exactly what he's talking about, that night in the alley, fragmented memories only covered up by digging through six feet of dirt.
"You would've died though."
"Perhaps it would have been best that way."
You know that no selfish reason you have about wanting him around could ever make up for all the things he endured under Cazador, that if he had bled out that night he would at least be at peace.
"This is different though. We're all working together, we all want the same things. Shadowheart isn't going to hold this over you."
"You don't know that. I mean look at me. I planned on seducing you and getting rid of you as soon as I could, all to keep myself safe. We will never truly know what the others want, what their intentions with us are."
"Then why trust me?"
He hesitates as you wrap his abdomen once again.
"I... I don't know... You're just, different."
"Then what's to say Shadowheart isn't also different? Or any of them for that matter?"
You cup his face in your hand.
"It's just easier to risk one of you. To risk loving you, and only you. Because if you betray me? Then I've played myself for a fool, and I can't have two knives in my back."
"You don't have to trust her Aster, but you need her right now. We need her, because I can't lose you either."
Your hand trails to his, and you feel at each other's fingers for a few long moments. He tries to come up with something to say, knowing he will most likely bleed out if you two don't wake the cleric.
"You trust me right? You're making that risk at least, taking that chance? Then trust that I'm trying to make the right choice for you."
Even if he doesn't bleed out, he doesn't deserve to writhe in pain all night, to which you're sure he would say something about how he's done it a million times before. Why, why does he try to be strong for you?
"Alright my love, wake her."
You get up without a word, planting a quick kiss on his forehead before leaving the tent, your feet gliding to where Shadowheart is sleeping.
"Shadowheart, we need you."
She's a light sleeper, like most of you, and wakes with the few simple words you speak.
"What it is?"
The cleric asks as she walks with you.
"Astarion. We had some unwelcome visitors on watch. It's... it's not pretty."
You come back to your tent, gently moving the fabric by the entrance as Shadowheart moves to him, focused on doing what needs to be done. She unwraps the bandages and you come to his side. He's silent.
"Lady of Sorrows, this is horrific Astarion. How long have you let this sit like this?"
It takes him a moment to muster the words, still clearly embarrassed to be receiving her help this late. You've learned though that he hates people speaking for him, so you just wait.
"It's been about half an hour. Tav and I have been arguing about getting your assistance. They insisted we wake you, and I insisted we shouldn't bother."
"Well, you're lucky Tav isn't as stubborn as you are, because this is nasty. While I'm not as familiar with vampire anatomy, this would not have sat well overnight."
She takes a moment to gather herself, before casting healing touch, letting the magic linger a little longer than normal. You watch as his pale skin slowly comes back together, stitching itself up like embroidery thread. Shadowheart takes a moment to admire her work, smirking slightly. Her expression then becomes somber for a moment.
"As much as I'm not the sappy type, please don't hesitate to get me when you need me. Despite how much you all annoy me, I'm still rather fond of you as companions. I would hate to see any of you go too soon, especially over something as simple as this."
Astarion says nothing in return, and soon after the devout Sharran leaves the two of you alone. The two of you lie down, wrapping yourselves up in each other, limbs entangled as if you're scared of being torn apart.
"I know it's hard, but you have to learn to ask for help. If not for yourself, for me. Because I can only do so much my star."
"I know."
"I'm sorry I yelled. It just really scares me, the idea that I could lose you."
He nuzzles into your chest, the movement dampening his voice.
"I don't think anyone's ever been afraid to lose me, except me. And I fear I lost myself far too long ago for it to matter."
You wrap your fingers in his hair, sitting in the sorrow with him.
"All things that are lost can be found. And we'll find you again my love, I promise."
He doesn't thank you, which you don't mind. After all, Astarion isn't used to having anyone to genuinely thank. But the way he lets you hold him, that slowly but surely the walls are coming down, that's his own way of saying it, saying that he's grateful. And as long as he lives to see another day, you'll take whatever he gives you, for as long as both of you live.
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pacifymebby · 9 months
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Hello❤️ if your requests were still open I was wondering if you'd do peaky blinders headcannons for some of the blinders (it doesn't have to be all if you don't want to do them all) but for them and a female reader who they get put into an arranged marriage with and after they get married they find out she already has a baby or young child? You totally don't have to do it if you don't want to or aren't comfortable with it!! I blame the idea on my current baby fever 😂😂 You're amazing and I hope you're doing well❤️❤️
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Tommy
🌿 Going to be surprised but quietly impressed you kept it from him so well. He did his research into you and nothing about a baby came up.
🌿He will however be angry with you and your family because you weren't honest with him. He won't confrobt you immediately however you will notice the change in his mood. How cold and harsh he is to you. You don't know it but every time he shoots you one of those icy unforgiving stares, he's contemplating going to war with your family over it.
🌿At first he believes you have betrayed him, he sees it as your family trying to insult his family.
🌿Won't feel sorry for you despite knowing you didn't want to be married to him. You had the opportunity to be honest with him and for whatever reasons you lied to him too.
🌿However, there's no screaming or shouting, he doesn't threaten you. Honestly every time he looks at you he thinks he could hit you, thinks he could kill you and each deceitful bastard family member you have. The only reason he doesn't is because he doesn't want to act without knowing the truth.
🌿He's angry because someones tricked him, it doesn't matter that its you, doesn't matter the lie, he's just angry someone managed to trick him and every time he looks at you he feels that nauseating rage build inside him... And its because of this he can't confront you. He can't risk being deceived again...
🌿So he has to bide his time, the whole time treating you so cold and unforgiving. He hardly says a word to you, won't stop fixing you with that hateful glare... You feel so alone in that big house and you cry yourself to sleep every night. Tommy watches as you pale and thin and he doesn't feel a shred of guilt because until he learns the truth about you he believes that this is the bed you've made for yourself. That you deserve misery.
🌿But then he does learn the truth. He fibds out exactly why you have that baby, what happened to you, why your family were so keen to sell you down the river and marry you off to any old birmingham criminal they could.
🌿Suddenly he feels terribly guilty, he feels like a fucking fool and suddenly all that anger directed at you will be turned in on himself. He's made a fucking horrible mess of your life and he has things he needs to fix, but the first thing he does is call you into his office...
🌿You're terrified, literally trembling as you stand opposite him barely able to look him in the eyes. You worked out weeks ago that he must know about the child and now you're terrified of what he's going to say to you. You know he isnt affraid of killing, for a moment you're terrified he's hurt your baby...
🌿Before he's even said a word you've crumbled, your sob catching in your throat and then bursting from your chest untameable. He feels his heart break to look at you, you're distraught and in part he knows its his fault for being such a cruel bastard.
🌿 He stands up, let out a small sigh and approaches you carefully. When he touches you you flinch and cry harder and it breaks his heart.
🌿 With his hands on your shoulders trying to guide you into a hug he will apologise to you, "S'alright love, I know what happened yeah, know what they've done to you angel, you're safe now and always will be... Know about your baby too but don't..."
🌿"I'm sorry Tommy, don't hurt her please! I'm so fuckin sorry I... I..." you try your best but you just choke on your apology and can't get the words out. You're trembling in his arms when he finally pulls you in against his chest.
🌿"Hush y/n, shh, it's alright now, alls forgiven, you don't need to say anythin now yeah, alls forgiven..."
🌿He will apologise to you there and then, holding you so tenderly, his arms around you, his thumb stroking your shoulder, his chin resting in your hair as he rocks and calms you carefully.
🌿"S'alright angel, s'alright, no ones hurting your little girl I promise... I understand that we lie sometimes eh? We do bad things to protect ourselves and the ones we love, so I understand why you lied to me alright, I do..."
🌿 "All is forgiven now and I'm gonna bring your little one home yeah, gonna bring her home to her mam and dad but I ask one thing of you yeah, just this one thing angel, you an me we're married now, husband and wife, and we may not have married for love but we made those vows before god and so we must keep them, to have an to hold, for better for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish... Now I promised you those things and I intend to keep my promise... All I ask of you is that you be honest with me now yeah? No more lies, only truth..."
🌿He'll tell you that he wants to help you, wants to help you get your little girl back, wants to help you get revenge on all the people who have wronged you. He'll offer to make sure you never have to see your father who split you and the baby up, sold you off to an evil man.
🌿 "There there y/n, it's all alright now, I know you're a good girl, know you didn't want any of this, an I bet you've been so scared all this time eh? Terrified of everythin thats happened, no one to talk to about it... Terrified of me too?" he'll be stroking his fingers through your hair, holding you so delicately that its impossible for you to remember why you were ever scared of him. "Well you ain't gonna be scared anymore sweetheart... I promise, you ain't ever gonna be scared no more."
🌿He really will keep his promise, the Shelbys are a family of misfits and he'll welcome you and the child into the heart of the family. He'll raise your little girl as his own, and will probably insist upon lying to the child so that she doesn't have to know the true evils of her real father... Not that Tommy thinks hes any less bad really.
🌿He spoils your little girl rotten too, she's a real daddy's girl. He knows the darkness she was born of and into and wants to give her everything all little girls deserve, a good life with no rain. He also probably remembers little Ruby and views your daughter as the second chance he never thought he'd get.
🌿And though you may have been scared of him to begin with, the care, generosity and devotion he shows you leave you weak at the knees and almost dependent on him. You think the sun shines out of him and see him as your only hope in a dark world, the man who offered you kindness and forgiveness when you needed it the most. He picked you up off your feet when you were vulnerable and held you like a little bird with a broken wing. You won't hear a bad word said against him.
🌿You definitely do grow to love him and I believe he grows to love you too, what starts as him trying to do the right thing becomes this mutual respect and admiration, becomes adoration the more he gets to know you, how sweet and kind and good you are. He probably also appreciates your intelligence and understanding which you gained from having such a dark start in life.
Alfie
🐻 Isn't against arranged marriages when it comes to keeping Jewish women safe with Jewish men... Especially when there are so many predatory Shelby esque cunts out there who would take advantage of the young and naive. However, Alfie is against arranged marriages when its "marrying your terrified young daughter off to a mean old man to make peace with a rival gang..." which is what this is...
🐻 So he doesn't want to marry you and honestly doesnt have much respect for your parents who he thinks essentially traded you in for a few quid.
🐻 When your father had come to him, offering his daughter as a bride to clear his debts, Alfie really had considered shooting the cunts head clean off. The only reason he hadn't was the thought of you...
🐻 He'd seen you around Camden Town a few times, you worked in the bakery he often walked by and from what he remembered you were far too young for your father to be offering you up like that. You were practically still a child...
🐻 And that's why he accepted the offer. Because he knew that if he didn't you'd end up getting roped into all kinds of awful things by your shameless fuck of a father... There were other, less respectable ways a man could sell his daughter to clear his debts and he could tell just by having looked at you that those things would kill you.
🐻 On the day before your wedding, the first day he gets to speak to you he gives you this little speech. He comes to see you before you are married, which is bad luck in all cultures but apparently a wide soread myth among Jewish communities, which is exactly what he tells you when you try to hide yourself away from him.
🐻 "Now trust me zieskiet, see these," he'd tap his eye glasses and push them slightly down his nose as he looks at you seriously, "I only wear em when I need to read somet very carefully, and before I came to see you today I tripple checked right because I wouldn't want to do anything to give you anymore rotten luck eh, think you've had quite enough if that eh, can't get much worse than this here deal you've already been dealt can it? Now... Its a technicality perhaps but, it ain't mentioned anywhere in Talmudic literature yeah, neither any medieval writings what I could find either yeah... Its what you'd call a myth zieskiet... And that poppet, is very lucky because I've got a few things I'd like to say to you now yeah, just a few important things alright?"
🐻 He'd pull out a chair and gesture for you to sit down, this is Alfie we're talking about, even he knows he isn't going to be quick about this.
🐻 But he talks really gently to you, very seriously, but very gently.
🐻 "Right then, yeah, a few things I need to say to you now the night before our wedding day, our wedding day which is tomorrow yeah..."
🐻 "I know you're scared of me, don't blame you to be honest, I'd be scared, no, fucking terrified if someone told me I had to marry this mean old man yeah... Cause its true ain't it, I am mean, and I am old yeah, but I ain't ever gonna be mean to you,"
🐻 "Actually darlin whats gonna happen is this yeah, tomorrow when we have our nissu'in right, and then every day and night after that for the rest of our shared life together, I'm gonna look after you yeah, gonna take good care of you an thats a promise right?" the whole time hes talking you're just looking back at him speechless, a little confused and very very uncertain because you've heard so many terrying things about this man, that he's insane, that he's ruthless... And lets face it he isn't exactly coming off sane right now...
🐻 "This here right now yeah, this is me Alfie Solomons promising you y/n l/n that I'm gonna take proper care of you yeah, I ain't gonna hurt you, ain't gonna be cruel alright, won't force you to do anything you don't want to do... I don't expect you to fall in love with this ugly mug of mine yeah, I ain't gonna force you..." he looks right into your eyes then, holding both your hands in his, so serious that you have to trust him. You can see he isn't lying but it only makes you more nervous because you knew he wouldn't be promising you these things if he knew about the terrible deception your family were tryibg to pull off behind his back.
🐻 You feel so guilty then, you hadn't at first because you'd believed him to be just as bad as your father and brothers who were forcing you into this situation. The ones who had taken your child from you and threatened you with her life if you dared tell a soul.
🐻 But this man is so different from all the stories you'd heard, he's being so kind to you. The first man who has been kind to you for quite awhile. And you're still so naive, you want to trust him so badly, you want to believe you really don't need to be scared...
🐻 When Alfie sees the tears escape your eyes he doesnt understand, he thinks he's done something wrong and he panics and drops to his knees holding your hands and looking up at you, desperate to sooth you, he can't believe he's gone and made it worse.
🐻 "What's the matter poppet, what have I said?" but you just shake your head and try to hide your face in your hands scared to tell him the truth, your voice shaking when the words leave your lips. "Theres... Theres a child... A baby..." for a moment he thinks you're telling him you really are only a child and he launches into another speech about how its alright, he's only marrying you to save you from being married off to someone else...
🐻 "Zieskiet, stop crying little one, stop now eh, shh, I just told you didn't I, my only intention is to look after you, so you're only a littlen right you can stay a littlen I ain't gonna force you to be a woman yeah, I'm gonna..." "No!" you sob then, shaking and completely distraught and panicked then because he doesn't understand and he's not listening, "I'm not a child Mr Solomons, I have a child! I've a baby girl and... And... Oh god they're going to kill us both if I tell anyone and now I've told you, they're... My poor girl..." you cry into your hands, Alfie just watching you completely dumbfounded.
🐻 If he thought he lacked respect for your father before he has none left now. Now he really does wish he'd blown the cunts head off...
🐻 He sighs, takes your hands from your eyes and holds them in his, stroking your palms with his thumbs as he speaks.
🐻 "Now see, none of what you've just said yeah, none of that changes anythin of what I've just said... Everything I promised you just now yeah, all of that still stands, seems to me little zieskiet that you are a very scared, very sad little girl yeah, you and your baby need someone to take care of you both alright, someone who will keep you both safe and sound right and that someone yeah, that someones me..."
🐻 He can't hide the disgust at finding out you're a mother, you're so young... how the fuck have you got a child... He has his suspicions however and vows that after the wedding, when he has both you and your little one safe and sound, he'll pay your father another visit... Find out the truth once and for all, set a few things straight, get a little revenge.
🐻 He'll be so gentle with you, will take the baby in and let everyone believe it's his. He will take such good care of both of you. He probably won't even ask many questions of you if he gets the impression that you don't want to talk about what you've been through.
🐻 He'll ask if the father was a good man or not but he's already maade his mind up that unless the mans dead he cant be good cause he abandoned you and your daughter.
🐻 He never really thought he'd be a father, never thought he'd have a family... Always blamed it on his line of work, that it was better to be lonely and not risk losing anyone you loved, but he likes the family he's got now. Actually he loves them.
🐻 He has a fatherly protective sense of duty towards you both and you look to him as your saviour, the only person in the world you'll ever trust. He's so gentle and kind to you, and has demonstrated on more than one occasion that he'd kill and be killed for you and your little girl... That despite that "ugly mug" which you don't actually find ugly at all by the way, you can't help but want him as yours.
🐻 Its one of those "plenty of time to fall in love after the wedding" situations. Over time you adore him and want nothing more than to devote yourself to him.
🐻 Alfie will be such a good father. Sure it will be in that classic grumpy old man kind of way, always fretting about you and the baby, wanting to provide for you both, worrying about your safety, worrying that you'll get sick, worrying that you're not happy etc... He will be totally devoted to you, he'll grow to love the child as if she's his own and he'll love you too.
🐻 And he'll stand by his promise too, he doesn't force you to love him, doesn't force you to be intimate with him, and the first time you kiss him he's so stunned by your delicate fingers tracing the scar on his cheek that he blushes. When your lips touch his he puts a finger to your lips abd reminds you again, "zieskiet you don't have to pretend what did I tell you..."
🐻 "Fuck what you told me I ain't pretending nothin..."
Arthur
🍂 Tommy is forcing Arthur to get married because he thinks it'll force him to get over Linda. His brother thinks it will force him to get his head together once and for all and he pitches the deal to arthur as a clean slate, a fresh start with a pretty face.
🍂 But arthurs a bit uneasy about it, he doesn't believe for a second that anyone would ever want to marry him. No one in there right mind at least.
🍂 "And this girl eh brother... What's wrong with her that she's agreein to all this..." "I don't know what you mean brother..." says Tommy trying to feign naivety, but he knows what Arthurs getting at and knows his brothers skirting close to the truth.
🍂 "You know what I mean Tommy don't get stupid with me brother, you're the clever one ain't you... I've got a reputation haven't I... Now who the fucks giving their daugther away to a fuckin monster like me..."
🍂 And he's right about that reoutation, you are absokutely petrified of him. On your wedding day you're shaking and you can't keep the tears from your eyes. You do well to hold most of them back but Arthur sees them caught in your lashes. You look so sad and so scared and it hurts him to see you like that, knowing he's the root of that fear.
🍂You seem so gently and sweet, so timid. When you say your vows your voice is so wuiet, you're like a littke mouse or a baby bird. So pretty abd shy.
🍂 And Arthurs not exactly s genlte man, he's clumsy and awkward and he's always louder than he means to be, and somehow your shyness only makes that worse. He feels even clumsier and rougher around you and he's so painfully selfconcious because he doesn't want to scare you at all.
🍂 So he has to try and show you his soft side, which he isn't sure he actually has. He tries to ask Tommy for advice but his brother doesn't take him seriously, just shrugs and laughs him off, tells him "if you're so scared of the girl you don't have to speak to her at all... Consumate your marriage and never speak to her again..." but that thought horrifies Arthur who shakes his head and gets frustrated, "Nah, nah Tommy that ain't right, thats fuckin cruel Tom..."
🍂 So he asks Ada who laughs at him but, because she feels sorry for you - she remembers how scared you look the day you got married - she does her best to offer her brother some advice, advice about minding his coarse language, not raising his voice, not knocking furniture over or breaking olates when he's drunk and angry.
🍂 And polly gives him some advice too, about how to hold a hand without squeezing too tight, about how to touch a woman's cheek delicately, how to brush her hair behind her ear without poking her in the eye or making her flinch...
🍂 Arthur takes this advice very seriously and tries so so hard to be a gentleman to you. He really tries not to swear, really tries not ti get drunk or angry. But just as things are starting to work out between you, just as you both stop being so timid around one another he finds out about the baby.
🍂 He gets jumped outside the Garrison by some scratty bastard claiming Arthur Shelby stole his son.
🍂 His first response is anger, naturally. He's absolutely livid that you didnt tell him. He's spent all this time being careful with you, trying so hard to be a good man for you and all this time you've been lying to him, keeping this massive secret. And not just from him either... you didnt tell tonmy and its a betrayal of trust, you've not just insulted him but his whole family...
🍂 He doesn't know what to do, he completely panics because he's going to have to carry this shame to his brother, his brother who will probably kill you and your family for deceiving the Shelbys.
🍂 However, a lot of his anger is down to panic... You have a child, a whole fucking child! Have you been expecting him to be a father to that child this whole time? He isn't cut out for that, he ain't cut out to be a fucking dad...
🍂 He takes a lot of his anger out on the cunt claiming to be the father of your child, he doesnt stop to work out if any of its lies, just throws himself at the bastard because this man isn't pleasant and he's socked Arthur in the jaw and started making all these nasty threats... So all that anger and fear, all the hatred and betrayal, he takes it out on this stupid bastard, beating him within an inch of his life.
🍂 He doesnt kill him though because he needs to know if hes telling the truth about being the lads dad... Your man...
🍂 When he confronts you you get so so scared... You back away trying to put a safe distance between you and Arthur who has just stumbled in covered in blood, wreaking of the drink.
🍂And then when he tells you about the man who jumped him, when you hear what Arthurdid you start crying and suddenly Arthur gets worried, has he potentially killed this man you love? Will you ever forgive him, will you be scared of him for the rest of your miserable lives together... Has he doomed you both to suffer eachother in hate and fear forever?
🍂 But then you throw your arms around him and he realises you're crying tears of relief. That you're holding onto him so tightly, just saying "Thank you, oh thank god, thank you Arthur, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry I shouldn't have lied to you I just didn't know what to do, I was so scared, oh god thank you... Know i shouldnt be happy but i am."
🍂 He's confused as fuck tbh, doesnt know what to make of it, struggles to stand there and hold you because he isn't very good with crying women and you're utterly hysterical. He awkwardly puts his arns around you, oats you on the back and just kind of waits for you to explain...
🍂 "ere love don't cry eh, calm down sweetheart, ain't gonna solve anythin cryin like this are ye..." He's awkward, blushing and a little embarrassed, doesn't know what to do and feels totally helpless.
🍂 When you do explain everything, that you were never married to the man, that he ain't your man at all and never was, but that it is his kid and the reason your parents gave you up to Arthur is because they were so frightened of the man that they knew you needed to leave ur city, go somewhere with dangerous people who could keep u safe etc..." Arthur just listens completely baffled, getting more confused but also more upset as the story goes on. He's uoset for you and the more you tell him youre sorry, the more you beg his forgiveness and tell him you didn't mean to use him, didn't mean to cause any trouble, that they didnt give you a choice just packed you off in the middle of the night... The more certain Arthur becomes that he has to stand by you. He remembers your timid delicate face the day of your wedding, the tears in your eyes, the lack of family with you in the church... He realises that this has all been one long nightmare for you and that your fate rests on him. That he can choose to help you or doom you to a life of misery.
🍂In the end he's relieved too, he chuckled nervously and tells you that all considered he's glad he fucked the guy up as bad as he did. "Only fuckin sorry I didn't kill him... If I ever see that bas... Sorry, if I ever see him again I promise you love I will..."
🍂 "You're family now eh love, my family you and the baby and I'll do me best to be a good husband and a fuckin good father too, know I'm not really a good man but I promise you I'll do me best..."
🍂 Will admit he doesnt know what hes doing and you'll say lets face it, his own dads not exactly an angel...
John
🌼 We already know that John isn't going to be happy about the idea of an arranged marriage, especially not one orchestrated by his brother to make peace with a rival gang.
🌼 He will throw a strop when Tommy tells him, he'll be livid, accusing him of treating him like a child, "always fuckin controllin us all whenre you gonna get bored of playing the fuckin puppet master eh?"
🌼 Stupid and pissed off enough to try and start a physical fight with him, shoves him hard and has to be held back by Arthur, who has to try and be balanced. He isn't really in agreement with the situation either but he doesn't want to see John do anything stupid, and he knows that if John hits his brother again Tommy will come down full force on the lad.
🌼 So John will be dragged by his heals to the altar, he's still grumbling when they arrive at the field your wedding is to be held in. He's wearing a real school boy scowl when Arthur and Finn push him up to stand with beside you. He can't see you but you can see him through the veil which covers your face and the sight of his sullen expression strikes fear in you. He looks so angry, he looks like all those bad stories you've heard about the Peaky Blinders might actually be true...
🌼 But when the veil is taken from your face and John sees you for the first time everything changes... You're so pretty, with the soft earthy features, your eyes so emotive, a real deer look about you as you gaze back at him a little shyly...
🌼 Something about your pretty face and your soft features sooths him, calms his temper and suddenly he isn't so sulky anymore. Suddenly he's wearing a shy smile of his own, looking at you like he can't quite believe his luck.
🌼 When the sermons being read and you're both waiting to make your vows, kneeling together at the altar John turns to you with a little smirk and nods, whispers "Hullo," his cheeky smile and the way he's whispering over the sermon makes you feel like a kid being naughty in class. You're blushing and biting back a cheeky smile of your own when you whisper "hello," back.
🌼 He can't help but flirt with you, he knows this should be terribly awkward and that you're probably really unhappy to be there being married off to some stranger with a criminal record but he can't help himself. Your smiles so pretty and once he's had a taste of it he keeps chasing it.
🌼 He's also a little embarrassed to have arrived so reluctantly to your wedding, feels like he's got a lot of making up to do...
🌼 He'll sense your awkwardness and want to put you at ease, he can tell that you're shy, can tell that you feel nervous and he'll want to make you relax. Now that he's seen you he isn't so annoyed to be being married off to you and he wants to show you he's not all that bad either.
🌼 So he's whispering pointless small talk to you throughout the sermon, making you smile and stifle a giggle, earning you reproachful looks from Johnny Dogs who is trying his best to recite the sermon without throttling John for not taking it seriously.
🌼 But John is all, "pleasure t'meet you," shooting you that boyish smirk, making eyes at you like its just you and him having some private joke...
🌼 But he sees your hand shaking when Johnny goes to cut your palms and mix your blood and John remembers that although he can make his jokes and tease and flirt with you, you're probably still petrified of the future that lies ahead. You probably don't want to be doing this at all.
🌼 So when he clasps your hand in his and your blood meets his blood he holds your gaze and leans in to mumble something to quietly, lips barely moving, voice barely above a whisper. "Don't be scared flower." Of course its all good and well saying it but how can he really help you, of course you're going to be scared...
🌼 So later when everyone else is drinking and dancing he takes you to one side, his hand on your waist and then when he realises he's probably being too intimate, snatching his hand away, scratching the back of his neck instead. "Listen y/n I'm really fuckin sorry about all this, know its probably not what you imagined for your wedding day..."
🌼 But honestly, you're not sad to be marrying John. You didn't have dreams of a big romantic wedding or a husband you fell in love with at first sight... But you think that seeing John at the altar that morning is as close to love at first sight as you could possibly get... Yes you were nervous, yes you were shy, scared about your future... But not because you were marrying John... Well, your trembling hand had been a little to do with John but not because you were scared of him...
🌼 So you blush and shake your head and try to tell him he doesn't need to apologise, "I like you John," you say imediately looking at the floor, a shy but cheeky smile on your lips as you stand on tiptoe, brave enough for a fleeting second that you stand on tiptoes and kiss his cheek, leaving him blushing and speechless. "Really I do... I'm happy I got to marry you..."
🌼But John can tell that somethings not right, maybe you're not sad about the wedding or about marrying him but you're sad about him. He knows what sad girls look like, he saw many of them after the war and you look just as torn up as all those young widows...
🌼 Your little one is at your wedding, your mother is raising them, trying to pass them off as her own. And you've done well all day to pretend the little two year old is just a younger sister...
🌼 But John recognises your mothering instinct come out when the child runs over to hug you and you pick them up so lovingly. He can tell that you're not sisters, he can see that cherished look as you nuzzle your nose against hers. And he can tell by the tears in your eyes when you place her down on the ground and send her back to your mother. The way your gaze lingers as you watch her go, you look whistful, forlorn. Like a girl in mourning.
🌼 And Johns annoyed but not because you lied to him and not because he's just found out he's going to have another child on his hands. No, Johns annoyed that you were going to let your mother raise it, that you'd give up your kid just like that... Seemingly guiltless...
🌼But when he confronts you, umable to control his anger, snapping at you, growling the accusation at your through his teeth, breaking your heart because he's got it all wrong... You begin to cry, not hysterically but calmly. The tears running quietly down your cheeks as you look back at him with all this dissapointment in your eyes.
🌼 All day he's been so sweet you, sharing those conspiratorial smirks with you, as if you understood one another... Now you're worried he doesn't understand anything at all.
🌼 "I didn't want to... I don't, its fuckin breakin my heart to let her go... I don't have a fuckin choice they've... They..." you try to explain it to him, that your family forced you to give the baby up to your mother and let her raise it instead so that you wouldn't bring shame to the family, and so that Tommy wouldn't call off the engagement.
🌼 Then he has to swallow his anger, he doesn't want to see you crying and youre shivering there, sniffling in front of him all teary eyed, you're doing your best to stand up to him and he feels pretty guilty. His wife, standing up to him on her wedding night for fuck sake...
🌼 He gets angry with your family then, storming over to Tommy to tell him what they've put you through, to tell him what he thinks of his new in laws. He's suddenly very protective of you and he has this violent streak surface in him, he wants to hurt the people who have hurt you... So Tommy has to yank him to one side, him and Arthur trying to calm him.
🌼 "Its your fuckin weddin day John boy, you can't be fuckin fightin on your fuckin weddin day... Just take your girl and dance with her eh, like a fuckin man..."
🌼 So he does. He takes his girl, straight from her grandmother's arms, picks her up and kisses her forhead, asking her if she'd like to come for a dance with her mammy. The three of you will dance together, him carrying her on his hip as he slow dances with you both. Its a really touching scene but its passive aggressive too and when he locks eyes with your father he's making a threat which is received loud and clear.
🌼 He will make a huge point of openly accepting the child. he'll roll his eyes and nod to the family all self aware and apologetic, welcome to the family I guess.
🌼 That kids going to have so many brothers and sisters to run wild with. You'll actually have a really happy family.
🌼 John won't ask about the dad because hes got plenty of kids of his own and he knows how it works, you don't always love their parents but you love the kids. You'll be worried that he isn't bothered, you'll take it as him not caring about you or the child and when you ask him why he isn't bothered, why he isn't angry? he'll just shrug and say that he does care, you can tell him whatever you want whenever you like...
🌼 "Just don't see the point in dredge up the past when we're happy now," he'll say kissing your cheek, "got a good little family haven't we flower, we're happy ain't we? Why bother about anythin else eh?"
Bonnie
🍀 Bonnie is definitely the most heartbroken of the Peaky boys to find he's being married off to a stranger. He's sad to be being forced into an arranged marriage because he's always harboured dreams of meeting the love of his life, his soulmate and now he knows he'll never get the chance.
🍀 And he feels bad for you too because the chances are you're being robbed of the same thing. He's a romantic soul and it feels bleak and grey to be being robbed of love, the chance to fall in love.
🍀 He also knows that the nature of his life means you'll have to leave everything behind, travel with him and the family and that you'll really be alone in it all. He'll have his family still, not a lot will change for him, but you're being forced to leave everything behind, forced to go it alone and Bonnie is empathetic enough to know how much that will hurt you, how scared you will be...
🍀So he feels guilty too, guilty to be putting you through his own idea of hell.
🍀He is however determined to make the best of it, to be a friend to you if nothing else... He's such a sweet boy and he can't stand the thought of you being uncomfortable... He can't stand the thought that he might be ruining your life or breaking your heart. He's scared that you're going to be scared of him. From the moment he finds out he's to be married to you, to the day you finally meet Bonnie is preocupied worrying about the mystery girl he's to wed. Worrying you will hate him, worrying he won't be good enough, worrying you'll be scared... He's really scared that you'll be one of these girls who cries at the altar or tries to run away... Not that he could blame you for either, he just hates the thought that he could be playing a part in some innocent lassies misery.
🍀 He's a bit cyncial too, about where youre coming from... You can't have a particularly good family if they're giving you up to their enemies to "make peace" he thinks thats all wrong, he thinks they can't possibly love you or care about you very much if they're willing to hand you over to the people they hate most... People they call savages. He knows that if he had a daughter this would be the last thing he'd do to her. That if he had a daughter this was the sort of situation he'd want to protect her from...
🍀So before he's even met you he has all these complicated thoughts and feelings about you. He's been wondering about you for days on end.
🍀 On the day of your wedding hes taken back by how beautiful you look, so pretty all in white...He's genuinely stunned and when you remove your veil from your face with your delicate fingers Bonnie is held hypnotised by your grace. You're fae like, something ethereal about you in the misty morning light. He can't take his eyes off you and when your palms are cut and its time for Bonnie to take your hand in his he is too distracted gazing at your eyes that he misses his cue. Johnny Dogs has to press your hands together himself clipping him round the back of the ear for being daft.
🍀You're very shy, when Bonnie forgets to take your hand you bite down hard on your lip to hide your smile. You can barely look at him and struggle to hold his gaze. Bonnie thinks its because you're scared of him, or dissapointed by him but its not, its the opposite... You think he's lovely actually.
🍀 Sure you've heard about the Peaky Blinders fighter but the stories you've heard about a savage assassin just don't match up to this sweet brown eyed boy kneeling beside you, holding your hand clasped tightly in his.
🍀 Bonnie isn't sure how to act around you, he feels awkward, he feels shy too because actually you're the most beautiful girl he's ever seen and he's sure that the only way he was ever going to end up with a lass as lovely as you was if someone fuckin forced it.
🍀 When Johnny tells him to kiss his bride Bonnie hesitates, his hand hovers by your cheek, his thumb brushing your blushy skin as he freezes, shy but also worried... You have hardly even looked at him this whole time, maybe you don't like him, maybe you're wishing you could runaway afterall.
🍀"C... Can I kiss ye?" he asks, his lips barely an inch from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek. You want nothing more than for him to close the gap between you. When your lips meet you feel that nervous but sweet flip in your stomach.
🍀Its this one moment of calm, this first telltsle sign of happiness and therefore its over too soon. Because when your eyes closed and his lips met yours your mind settled down, most of your anxieties hushed to a whisper. You would have enjoyed it had it not been for the secret you were keeping, the devestating truth you were being forced to keep hidden.
🍀 All throughout the wedding day Bonnie notices how you seem sad, more than that, you have this whistful, doomed look about you. He puts it down to you being sad about the arranged marriage and keeps telling you he's sorry you've had to do this...
🍀 "I know this ain't what you want y/n and it don't have to be like that between us you know, don't have to be like husband and wife between us if you don't want it... Won't be angry with you for that so don't worry, just let me be your friend eh, don't be lonely y/n, I'm your friend I promise..."
🍀 Throught the day he keeps trying to cheer you up, he's so sweet to you and dotes on you completely, in fact he hardly leaves you alone not wanting for you to be overwhelmed by his family and the peaky boys who are here... Still, his acts of kindness though they touch you, though they make you smile and blush, though you even giggle once at one of his daft jokes, don't really work cheering you up and Bonnie feels terrible because he can't help you. You still seem devestated.
🍀 It gets worse when you ask how long they'll be staying near Birmingham and he has to tell you that they're not. They stayed a day later just for the wedding, the vardos are moving on first thing in the morning and when he tells you you get choked up, your eyes are wide and white... You look terrified.
🍀 Again naive, bonnie puts that down to your fear of him and his family. Your fear of being alone with him, he tries to reassure you, tries to let you know he's there for you, that he'll be your friend, but before he can say much at all you've fled.
🍀 The parties in full swing now and other people are drunk enough not to notice you slip leave, only Bonnie watches you go, standing there helpless and a little heartbroken to watch you running away from him.
🍀You're not running away however, you're running to...
🍀You have to try to find your wee girl, shes with the church in small heath where your parents forced you to leave her that morning.
🍀You're demanding her back but they wont give her up, telling you that you made your decision, shaming you for being a whore... For giving up your child, for having her in the first place... You're desperate, on your knees in tears on the church steps, sobbing your heart out but the priests no sympathy for a wayward girl like you...
🍀When bonnie watches you go at first he doesnt know what to do, hes so scared, he wants to find you, to make sure youre safe... He knows there'll be trouble if your family realise what youve done.
🍀 So he corners your brother and forces him to tell him whats going on. He's clever about it, lies to find out the truth, makes a couple of wild guesses which pay off... Tommy Shelby would be impressed.
🍀 "Listen to me alright mate, that girls been heartbroken about somethin all day..." he hisses, his eyes burning with a fury he doesn't quite understand, "she just told me everything so don't even bother trying to lie about it eh, think your family's done enough lying for one day..." "Whats she told you?" the brother looks pissed off and when he sighs he's fed up, glancing nervously over his shoulder like he doesn't want to get caught. "Theres someone else..." says Bonnie, his voice shaking a little, he doesnt want it to be true, he doesnt want you to be in love with someone else because if you are you'll resent him. The chance of even a friendship for you both dashed on the rocks.
🍀But the brother just sighs and shakes his head, tells him not to cause a scene, "you're gonna be pissed but let's not fight about it here eh, for me sister, your brides sake eh..."
🍀 The brother tells him about the church and the baby and before he can tell you anything else, about the father or the circumstances that have brought you here, bonnie is running off to find you.
🍀He takes Isaiah and Finn with him to the church because for as much as he too is a catholic, a good one at that, he doesn't trust those churches and priests who he thinks have warped the religion for their own gains.
🍀And thats where he finds you, in a heap on the church steps still hammering on the door trying to get in.
🍀When he sees the mess youre in, when he finds out what they've done all his suspicions are confirmed and he's livid. Not just angry however but heartbroken for you because he knows you're younger than him and he can't believe the suffering you've been put through at the hands of the church and your family.
🍀 "And we're the savages?" he smirks to Finn when they pass you and enter the church by "order of the peaky blinders."
🍀 He gets your wee girl back, goes straight in, threating them. "Wheres my fuckin daughter?" "You had no right to take my fuckin daughter away! No fuckin right..."
🍀 And the church know a peaky blinder when they see one so they hand her over to him immediately. The moment he lays eyes upon her he knows he's going to be her father, knows he's going to raise her as if she were one of his very own. He feels an overwhelming sense of duty to protect her and it brings a tear to his eyes.
🍀 Always wanted a little girl and hes already decided to devote himself to her and to you. He can see that you need someone to be good to you and he's made that vow now, your bloods have been mixed, so he has a duty to you. Maybe he won't have that romantic falling in love he'd always secretly hoped for but that doesn't mean he can't try to love you and your little girl as best as he can.
🍀He gives her to you and when you burst into further tears he doesn't know what to do. He's not used to seeing girls so unhappy xnot like this anyway. He's seen his sisters cry over boys and arguments before but he's never seen a lass so distressed.
🍀 "Oh mary thank you thank you," you're sobbing, your body shaking with relieved sobs. Bonnie sitting down beside you trying to hush you and calm you. Making you all these promises to look after you both. "Shh sweetheart, its alright now dove, you're both safe now, I'm gonna take care of you you both from now on dove, I swear it on my life," he says taking your palm in his, kissing the cut which is healing from earlier that day.
🍀Takes you both home, promises you he's going to look after you both. "We're family now love, one that looks after one another, you're never gonna be sad or scared again I promise..." of course being a peaky blinder thats a promise he can't keep, but he'll say anything to reassure you in that moment.
🍀 You're going to be so won over by how loving and caring hes been, you went through something intense that night and got through it together. He saved your life and your wee girls life, you're so certain of that and as a result you feel so close to him. You really trust him, which is something you haven't been able to say about anyone for a long time.
🍀 You will probably talk about that day many times over the years, Bonnie will confess all of his naive hopes that he thought had been stolen from him that day, you'll both share how sad you were, how scared you were that you wouldn't ever know love. And then you'll smile and hold eachother, happy with the knowledge that even if you weren't destined for one another you've still found love.
🍀Your wee girl is going to have like 10 siblings sorry.
Isaiah
🐀You're more pissed off than him, you're so angry and you fight with your parents, you fight with his family, youre cold and so fucking bitter to him.
🐀The morning they tell you you do nothing but scream, you hit your father, beating at him furiously, you feel betrayed by him, by your mother who does nothing but stand sobbing weakly.
🐀And the person you hate the most is Isaiah... When he tries to talk to you, when he tries to tell you "I didn't fuckin ask for this either did I y/n!" you just get angrier, you shove him away, you try to run away.
🐀"What the fuck would you agree to something like this for? Who the fuck do u think you are... You think you should get to own me... I don't even fuckin know you and you're calling me your fuckin wife!"
🐀And Isaiah does feel a little guilty, this isn't exactly what he wanted either... But your temper is foul and you're doing nothing to contradict what he was told about you. That you'd grown wild, that you'd the devil in you, that you needed taming. He gets frustrated with you, annoyed that you can't see that this is bad for both of yous, not just you. Sometimes he wants to shake you and yell in your face, "You think this is what I wanted do you love? You ever stop to think I might have had a sweetheart of my own eh? You think I wanted to be stuck with a sour bitch like you for the rest of me life?"
🐀Sometimes when you are screaming at him he almost does say those things. But he's under orders from his father and Tommy Shelby to treat you right, theres an important alliance in the balance and if he loses his temper with you he could ruin everything. But you don't make it easy, you're angry at your situation and you're taking all that hurt and anguish out on him...
🐀When he finds out about the baby things get worse... All this time you had a way out, a way to annul the marriage and kept it from him. He's so angry with you but he feels like now you're even. You've been hating him this whole time, being truly evil to him, and now its his turn to be mad. He has a right to lose his temper now. He has a right to say all the horrid things he's been thinking about you all this time, your resentment for one another building.
🐀When he confronts you about it you have a huge, messy fight in which your whole backstory is carelessly hung out for all to see. You're screaming at him, hysterical, how dare he lose his temper with you for this...
🐀"This is your fuckin fault so don't blame me for keepin it secret, I had to keep it secret!! What would you have done eh, you and your Peaky fuckin Blinders! Don't blame me!" Don't blame me? You're the one who couldn't keep her fuckin legs closed love! "" Fuck you! Don't you dare talk about me like that, don't you fuckin dare speak about me like that! I'm your fuckin wife!"
🐀And when you say that he snatches your wrist in his, you'd raised your hand to slap him but now he's squeezing your wrist so tight it hurts, he's forcing your hand down onto the kitchen table, backing you up against it until you can feel the edge of the table digging into your back...
🐀"Aye," he says, his voice low and spitting, his eyes so unforgiving, "some fuckin wife you are eh sweetheart..." everything he says comes out a threat and suddenly you feel so small, so vulnerable. He's right up in your face, his hand still squeezing your wrist tight.
🐀"Some fuckin wife sleepin around and lying to me, you let me marry you! I didn't fuckin want you... You could have fuckin stopped it... I didn't want you..."
🐀And that cuts you so deep. You didnt want him either but having him stare you down oike that, each word slashing at you, full of vitriol... It hurts, brings tears to your eyes because you both know you're stuck together, he's saying these things to you now so plainly, so spitefully, knowing he can't take them back, knowing you'll have to face them for the rest of your life...
🐀"What're you crying for now eh, fuckin stop crying girl, don't start cryin now like I'm breakin your heart! You're the one whose breakin mine for fuck sake... A fuckin baby y/n, why the fuck would you keep that secret eh?" "I mean it love stop fuckin cryin, you made this fuckin bed you're gonna fuckin lie in it..."
🐀When you snatch your wrist free and flee from him, you run away without even taking a jacket. You're half blind from your crying, not paying any attention to where you're going as you tear through the Birmingham streets desperate to get away from him. Away from all the Peaky Blinders and the fucking nightmare world they live in.
🐀Isaiah shouts after you, he's angry but not just with you anymore. Angry with himself for letting you go, for letting you run away into the dangerous night without so much as a coat to shield you from the rain. He runs his hands over his cheeks and curses himself, curses you too for being so wild. Now he knows you've the devil in you. You're nothing but a terror head to toe.
🐀But he has to go after you, god knows what could happen to you out there on your own. If he doesn't find you someone else might and though you may think he's cruel, theres plenty more cruel out there and he knows it.
🐀So he searches for you all night on his own, too ashamed if having scared you away to ask his friends for help. He feels almost imasculated by the whole situation, what kind of man lets his wife run away from him like that...
🐀When he finds you you're drunk in some shithole pub half way across the city, its taken him hours and hes soaked through from being out in the rain all night. It's kicking out time and you're the last person in there. Women aren't meant to drink alone but you know the lad behind the bar from your wilder days and he's been letting you stay...
🐀"Alright love, you've had your fun eh, time to come home yeah..." says Isaiah, approaching you. You flinch away from his touch and it hurts him the way you look at him with such fear. "No," you whimper, you look so scared of him and yet so determined to disobey, to remain your own woman. "Come on lass I mean it yeah, we had an argument yeah, you ran away, you got blind drunk and now its time to come home... We'll sort everything out at home, promise..." and he does mean it. He's no intention of screaming with you until the sun comes up.
🐀Whilst he was out looking for you he had a lot of time to reflect on everything thats come to pass between you. The way he sees things now this has been painful for both of you. Both of you have been forced to give up the futures you wanted, both of you are stuck together now... And you made those vows before god, you can't ever undo them, you can't break that oath because you made it to eachother and also to god. And if you've a baby then you have to raise it together. You have to try and get along otherwise you'll be miserable for the rest of your lives, thats no way to be together, no way to raise a child.
🐀He feels guilty for losing his temper, he should have been man enough to understand you, he should have been what you needed... Now he's found you thats what he wants to tell you. That things are going to change between you.
🐀But you haven't given up your fight and you start crying again the minute he puts his arm around you to help you up and walk you home. You're really sobbing, its almost theatrical and it imediately begins to wind him up again... Why can't you see he's really trying for you here?
🐀You're too drunk to walk and in the end he has to pick you up and carry you all the way home where he sits you down at the kitchen table, your head slumping onto your arm. You're a mess and he can't help but chuckle despairingly. How the fuck did he get here?
🐀Still, amid the bitterness and the resentment theres a tiny glimmer of affection, you're just a lass at the end of the day, a lass who's had too much to drink and upset herself. And he does think you're pretty, even when your eyes are all red from crying.
🐀He sighs, pulls the chair up beside you and takes your hand. You don't look up at him at first, your eyes pressed to your arm on the table, refusing to turn your head until he tells you again.
🐀"Fuck sake y/n look at me now eh, I'm tryna talk to you... We're grown ups ain't we... Look at me..." he sounds exhausted and you're exhausted too so you turn your head and he can't help but think you look quite cute in your sulk. Your cheek squished against your elbow, your big eyes watery and sullen looking up at him from where your heads resting on the table.
🐀"I'm your fuckin husband love whether you like it or i like it," he says with a sigh, he wants nothing more than to go to bed but he knows this is a fight which can't be slept on, "so you fuckin listen to me yeah, all this screamin and cryins gotta fuckin stop cause were stuck with eachother and it aint gonna be much of a life if we ain't at least civil eh..." "Uhuh..." suddenly you're a lass of few words, just glowering up at him, hearing him out though he's not sure you're really listening to him.
🐀"You ain't really been behaving like much of a wife girl, and I know I ain't a saint, haven't been much of a husband to you either have I... But thats gonna change now yeah, it fuckin has to change now cause we can't live like this forever... Can't raise a child if we're at each others throats all the time eh?"
🐀You sit up then, your eyes wide but hopeful, you clasp at his hand suddenly alert, really listening to him...
🐀Isaiah smiles when he sees the light return to your eyes. Its the first time he's seen you looking like that... Hopeful.
🐀He's terrified of having a child, so scared that the child will reject him, that they'll hate him for not being their real father... He's scared he'll do everything wrong, scared he'll be a bad example... But he knows that he can't refuse to raise a child because he's scared the kid won't like him... He knows he has to do the best he can for you and yoir little one.
🐀 "So tonight sweetheart, am gonna get you to bed an me and you are gonna go to sleep, no more fighting yeah?" "Uhuh," "Then in the morning you're gonna stay here, I'm gonna go find your littlen and bring em back to you, and then we're gonna raise it together yeah, husband and wife, mam and dad..."
🐀He puts you to bed and for once you let him help you get changed, you let him look after you and help you into your bed and when he's made sure youre settled he tries to get some sleep himself. He's anxious however and his heads so busy with all these worries about the baby, about whether he's cut out to be a dad, that he barely gets any sleep at all.
🐀However the next day when he fibds the child, a little boy, something in him changes. He doesn't take to fatherhood perfectly, he's awkward and he's still very anxious on the indside. But he sees this little boy who needs a father, who needs someone to step up for him, someone who's isn't afraid of anything, who can be confident and in control. He knows that that has to be him and so he does, he steps up because he doesn't have a choice, theres a little boy depending on him.
🐀And your little boy takes to him straight away, he looks up to Isaiah and its clear he thinks the sun shines out of him. Isaiah is kind of proud of that.
🐀And its through seeing how him and the son grow close that you begin to trust him and your anger and resentment mellows, replaced over time by a kind of respect. You admire him, you have to admit that its impressive the way he stepped up to your son when he could have just kicked you both out on the street.
🐀It isnt just the baby he's been trying hard for either, it's you too. He's been doing everything he can to be a caring husband to you and you feel yourself softening up to him over time.
🐀Your respect develops into a friendship, you both know you can rely on one another, that its the three of you now who are a family. It might not be a romantic love which blossoms between you but theres certainly a mutual trust and admiration, a platonic love.
🐀And that friendship twinned with the fact that hes undeniably attractive, makes you wonder what it would be like to have children with him... Whether your little family of three could grow...
🐀You sleep together every night, you act just as a husband and wife should but theres always a distance, Isaiah has been waiting for you to close it for a long time, and one night when he climbs into bed beside you in the early hours, he's been away all night on peaky business and you've been worrying about him all night... He thinks you're asleep when he rests his head on the pillow and you roll over, draping an arm around him, nuzzling into his neck. He only realises youre awake when you leave a kiss at the top of his spine.
Michael
☘️Words cannot truly describe the rage which floods Michaels body when Tommy informs him he's to be married. Not only dies he think it's completely fucking embarassing in this day and age, "the modern world ain't for things like this Tom!" he also believes Tommy is only doing it to sideline him, to punish him and put him in his "place" a place he knows in his heart he does not belong.
☘️ He fights Tommy over it, not as physically volatile as John but certainly still puts up a fight. He tries to spite him through business. He fucks up a couple of deals Tommy wanted him to make just to spite him... Naturally this only makes things worse.
☘️ "Fuckin meet her first at least Michael, who knows maybe it'll be love at first sight..." Tommy is taking the piss, rubbing salt in the wound because knows Michael knows theres nothing he can do. That in the end he has no choice but to do Tommys bidding.
☘️ "Knowing you you'll have picked some fuckin pig for me..." he grumbles, not realising how far from the truth that could be.
☘️ A meeting between you is organised, with Polly and your mother chaperoning. It's the only time you'll meet before the wedding day and you're so nervous. You're terrified that Michael will see you and change his mind, that he'll break off the engagement because you're not good enough. That you'll let your family down.
☘️ You're also scared because you know that Polly Gray has the sight, you know that if you meet her gaze even for a second she will see into your soul and discover all the secrets you're trying to hide. The dark past you're desperate to forget. Because you've already had your heart broken beyond repair.
☘️When Michael sees you he falters, his lips parting, stunned. You're nothing like the girl he'd imagined you would be. You're not deformed or ugly, not some old spinster or s fucking 12 year old being married off early for status. You're simply beautiful, just a girl who looks something close to his dream girl. You're pretty, a little shy, but your smile is sweet and your voice is soft when you say hello. And your eyes are deep and full of heart. Soulful eyes, the kind you don't see much of in Small Heath.
☘️Polly does your readings, this is a condition of your engagement and one you're very nervous about. If it was just any old gypsy crone pretending to read your cards and your palms then you wouldn't be worried. Anyone else would be easy to fool. Polly Gray however isn't a con woman, she really can see secrets. Your hands shaking when she turns it over in hers and traces her fingertip slow and delicate down your love line.
☘️ "Well Michael, I don't think you'll have any complaints with this one..." she says offering her son a knowing smirk, she didn't need to read palms to know that. One look at you and the way Michael was starring at you, was enough to tell her that Michael at least would be happy.
☘️ Polly tells you both then, holding your hand and Michaels in each of hers, acting as a link between you, "you must both try to forgive one another, you must forgive your families too, for what they're asking of you... If you can do this you will be happy together, theres much potential for love here..."
☘️Polly saw the child in those readings she did, but she doesn't say a word, not to you, not to Michael. Not even to Tommy who she knows will be furious. Because she didn't just see the child, she saw everything. She saw how you were knocked up by a man you believed really loved you, how he ran away and abandoned you. How you tried to keeo the baby secret but couldn't when you began to show... How it was your own parents who reported you to the social and accused you of being an unsuitable mother... Your baby was taken from you just as Pollys were and she can see that desperate heartbreak in your eyes. She doesn't need to read your cards to feel the grief which radiates from you.
☘️ So she keeps your secret, and you don't see Michael nor his mother until the day of your wedding. When you walk down the aisle towards Michael you're shaking, you're nervous, self concious of everyones eyes on you. You never imagined your wedding day to be like this, a church packed out with gypsies and criminals, ruthless gangsters watching your hips sway in your white dress.
☘️Michael is still angry with Tommy, he knows what his mother has said to him about forgiveness but he will never forgive his cousin for treating him like a child, for humiliating him by forcing him to do his bidding in such a public and old fashioned way.
☘️ So he hides his attraction to you, he acts sullen and takes his hatred for Tommy out on you. He's treats you so coldly, glaring at you as he makes his vows. You can feel the hatred radiating from him and your voice is shaking as you say your own vows. You want to cry, you're actually scared of him.
☘️ He does everything he's supposed as he is supposed to, kisses you, dances with you, but he's so removed and aloof, so quietly cruel, something about him makes you feel like ice. You feel so lonely as he dances with you, you want to cry.
☘️ Later you're drunk, drinking to try and nurse your fear and sorrow away. You'd hoped when Polly had taken both your hands in hers and told you that you were well matched, that potential for love might blossom in time... But now it seems you're doomed to live the rest of your life loathed by the man youve just married.
☘️ Polly joins you at the bar, slips her hand into yours and leads you away from the party outside. You sit side by side in the steps and she offers you a cigarette. When at first you shake your head, a little wary of the older woman she says, "Don't be silly girl, have a cigarette, look at you for gods sake, its clear you need one..."
☘️ So you let her light your cigarette for you and you do as she says taking a drag and enjoying the comfort of that first inhale. Pol was right, you needed that. "Thank you..." you say quietly but Polly has already moved on. "I know about your son," she says her voice low, at first she sounds perfectly calm, matter of fact, and your heart fills with fear, but when she carries on you hear her change, her voice thick with emotion.
☘️ "My god girl the things you've been through, the things those fucks put us through..." she's clasping your hand in hers, holding it tightly. When you look up at her in confusion her eyes are tearful and suddenly you understand.
☘️ "I'm so sorry love," she says holding your cheeks in her palms, her cigarette smouldering by your eyes. "Those bastards never fuckin tire... If I ever saw the man who stole my babies from me I'd kill him," she tells you and suddenly you're stuttering...
☘️ "But... But michael?" you ask and she nods, she smiles and dabs at her tears and suddenly she's that stoney fearsome woman once again. Wise beyond her years. She clasps your hands in hers and looks you dead in the eyes. "Yes love... I got my son back, but it wasn't god who gave him back to me, we took him back, we took him... Don't lose heart love, you'll see your little boy again..."
☘️ You're scared then, convinced that even if you do get your son back Michael will never take him in. You beg Polly not to tell anyone, you ask her to keep the baby a secret and she understands why you're asking, because she understands she shakes her head.
☘️ "My sons stubborn y/n, but he ain't stupid... He'll take that little boy in, he fuckin will..." theres a threat in her voice then, a grit that chills you. You wonder if she intends to use that tone on Michael.
☘️ Its several days later when Polly tells Michael that you have something to tell him, something important. He's barely spoken two words to you since the wedding, avoiding you at all costs because he feels awkward. Because every time he looks at you his attraction threatens to break his resolve. He can't stand the thought that Tommy might have been right to pair you up.
☘️ "Me mum says you've got somet to tell me love?" he says entering the room, looking down at you where you sit on the sofa. "Says its somet important. Says I'm not to lose my temper, says I'm to be forgiving..."
☘️ You're so scared to tell him, you're shaking but you try to remember what Polly told you. You try to be brave, try to trust that her son is the gentlemen she claims he is and not the cold bastard he has shown himself to be since you were wed.
☘️ When you do tell him he purses his lips, swallows a lump in his throat and then says "did mum tell you about me?" he asks, his own eyes stewed with emotion as he walks to the window and gazes out at the street. The living room is dark and with his back to you you feel cold. He's only turned away so that you can't see the upset in his eyes.
☘️ "She did yeah..." "Fuckin horrid you know... They lie to you, feed you all this shit to make you hate your own family... Tell you you weren't wanted, tell you that your own mum hurt you... Then one day someone else comes along tells you all that was the lie... Wouldn't wish it on anyone."
☘️You're quiet, listening to him talk. You only realise you're crying when a tear trickles quickly over your lips and you taste the salt on them. When Michael turns round he looks you up and down. He feels a kind of guilt when he sees you so forlorn and heartbroken. He knows he's been unkind to you.
☘️ "Been pretty evil to you haven't I love... I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that, isn't you I hate..." he sits beside you and takes your hand in his, "I'll get your son back love, promise, call it a wedding gift."
☘️He lays out one simple condition for you, he'll take the baby and raise it as his own, as long as you promise to keep that secret too. The baby is Michaels, no one can know you weren't a virgin when he married you. It would be humiliating, imasculating. He can't have people thinking he married a "whore."
☘️It hurts hear him say that and he sees the wounded look in your eyes and apologises. "Love I don't think you're a whore..." does that really make it better?
☘️ It takes time but with the Shelby/Gray formidabke reputation Michael is able to bring your little boy back to you.
☘️You're not sad living with Michael, he really is a gentleman when he isn't acting up for Tommy. He takes good care of you and the boy and you live happily together. And you can't deny your attraction to one another. The cards and your palms didn't lie, you really were well matched and you do find love, far easily than most.
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atxxzist · 8 months
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the crown prince | c.s
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summary: with the fall of the king, the kingdom of utopia rest on prince san's hand. but when bounties are put on his head as the consequence of his ancestors' actions, he realize there's a backlog of history to undo and a lot more to prove that he's deserving of being the rightful ruler
pairing: choi san x f!reader
genre: prince!san, commoner!y/n, medieval au, angst, fluff, suggestive
word count: 19k
(ao3) if you don't like lapslock
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age 8:
you live in the fifth district, the poorest and most rundown of all districts, sitting at the bottom of the kingdom with a large body of water surrounding it.
the only remarkable thing about the place is the port that's often used for traveling in and out of the kingdom. other than that, rarely anyone from other districts would come down unless they want to be at risk of a flood--which always striked the district the hardest out of any others.
but even then, despite the limited portions of food your family has to survive on each day, or the hardrock wood mattress you guys have to sleep on that frequently gives your aging father back pain, life doesn't seem all that bad.
you still have your family and a roof over your head, and a mind too young and optimistic.
age 10:
just two years after, you soon find out how hard it really is for a kid living in the fifth district, and especially one without parents or someone to love and care for them.
the fishermen had said your parents fell overboard and their bodies couldn't be recovered.
you couldn't believe it at first that no one looked even the least concerned or urgent to search for your parents, but you soon learn that their lives are meaningless, and the people that threw you out after their death made sure you knew so is yours.
"ay, kid, we could leave you out here to die if we really want to," one of the tall, scary looking man says after your episode of protesting and crying starts to annoy him.
and easily like that, they both leave you in the orphanage that's already overcrowded with other children of similar circumstances.
you lose everything in one day; the house your father built from scratch, along with anything that's ever been handmade by your mother, it's all gone. they're both gone, and you feel yourself withering away with all the loss.
before the age of eleven, you become nothing more than a ward of the district and the responsibility to a bunch of strangers who probably doesn't care whether you live or die.
age 11:
it only takes a year for you to become almost nothing like the person you were once before who was cheerful and optimistic.
all of it beat out of you, watching every day as some of the children gets yelled at or punished for doing something so trivial, it desensitized you to the point you're no longer surprise to hear someone get told no one else would want them outside of the orphanage.
you don't talk to anyone or attempt to make any friends. you keep to yourself and would often read any books you could find or hunt for any sewing materials during the few time of the day they let you guys out.
age 12:
during dinner, you hear the group of kids sitting at the nearby table talk about the upcoming coronation of the prince.
"it's not even like we're gonna get to see it," one of the girls squeak, seemingly uninterested in the topic as she pokes her food because it's true.
events like that, especially any celebrations or gatherings are only reserved for those in the second and first districts, who are usually of noble and royal status. not nobodies like you guys down here living off of scraps and remnants.
"i want to see how the prince looks like," another boy adds with a mischievous tone.
you, too, want to see what the prince looks like, but you most likely never will. he won't come here and the chances of you going up there is damn near impossible, it might as well be good as a dream.
but all of the children agrees that he's the luckiest kid in the kingdom, and for that, they hate him for it.
age 13:
through the years, you've been watching as kids go and new ones would come in.
those that left were lucky to have gotten moved or adopted into a household that were willing to take them in, and you, like all the other kids in here, tired of the overcrowding and deteriorating state of the orphanage, hope that a kind family will one day swoop you away.
but it doesn't happen at age thirteen, and you continue to share a bunk with the same girl from three years ago who's been here longer than you.
age 14:
the states of the lower districts only seems to decline as you get older with the corrupted hierarchy and the rich taking all the resources for themselves.
for hundreds of years--you've learned, that it's always been bad, but everything's looking far worse than it has even four years ago.
but with the conditions in the lower three districts deteriorating, the citizens are growing more vocal, bitter, and resentful of those that resides in peace while everyone else is suffering.
the disparity not only made everyone despite the higher ups, but also each other as the stresses of the poor states get to them. and with you living in one of the three's, it made you harbor a hatred toward the top two districts as well, unable to see them past anything but greedy and power-hungry.
slanders of the royal family increased then. talks of overthrowing the king or starting a war for equal resources for all districts, and some even saying they'd rather swim across the ocean to reach kingdom aurora than to live in this "hellhole". but at the time, they were nothing but empty threats to make one feel better.
age 15:
you were so scared at first, hearing of all the horror stories told by the older, taunting kids who's gonna get moved into a family soon, that you're gonna be unlucky for the rest of your life and not get chosen like them.
that you're just gonna stay here until some lowly men decides to buy you off, or probably meet a worse fate.
but one sudden day when the director of the orphanage comes running into the dining hall and announces to all the kids to be on their best behaviors because someone from the second district is going to be coming down the next day, your life changes for the better at the age of fifteen.
you didn't think you had a chance at all, but you still wanted to try because no matter the intense dislike you hold for the two higher districts, if there's an opportunity for a better life, you're going to take it.
it's better than staying here and suffering. everyone else is becoming desperate and you're not any different.
the lady comes the following day as expected, her carriage alerting the entire place of her arrival as all the kids are on their knees with desperation in their eyes.
you guys have never had any visitors from a district so high up before, so this is very crucial.
when she walks in, everyone bows to welcome her, the sight as equally mesmerizing to others as it is to you. never in your life have you seen anyone with so many pearls and jewels, the gown she's wearing made of only the best materials.
it then hits you harder that however this lady decides to take you in, you're going to be living a comfortable life no matter what.
she takes one look around the room, all the children secretly crossing their fingers and it's when her eyes land on you and her lips turn up into a smile.
the director tells her you're a good kid. often guarded and doesn't really get along with the others, but well behaved nonetheless.
it feels weird to be the one everyone's envious of when you were usually on the opposite spectrum, but now passing all the kids as you make way to the front door, all their burning gazes planting a seed of guilt because you understand the feeling all too well.
but with the nation in this state, all anyone can do is look out for themselves. eventually, their time will come, and this just so happens to be yours.
the lady sits you down in the carriage next to her while the coachman leads the way back. she informs you will be working under the family as a servant but will be provided housing, food, and even freedom from time to time.
"i heard you like sewing."
you nod shyly at her words.
"i learned it from my mother."
"good. then you will have the opportunity to hone the skill."
the trip to the second district takes a total of three days, the only times you guys stopped was for food or toilet breaks. when the coachman announces the arrival, your first time seeing the scenery is that to of a fish fresh out of water.
you didn't even know trees or grass could be that green. or that it's not always supposed to feel like a sense of dread that takes the smiles off people's faces until they just look straight miserable.
it's as if you've entered a completely different nation, unable to comprehend the huge difference already, even in comparison to the third district.
the lady is quick to disappear into the house almost the size of the orphanage itself, calling for someone else to escort you around and show what the next couple of years (and possibly, the rest of your life) has in store for you.
you're to wake up at 5am everyday to prepare food for the noble family, and will be sharing a chamber with three other female servants: the main cook, the main cleaner, and another young girl about your age.
you're only allowed to wander during weekends with authorization and is only to go out for groceries or other necessities. other than that, any rule breaking will have consequences.
for the next couple of days, you practice the routine.
waking up in the early morning and prepping breakfast, then cleaning, and repeat for lunch and dinner. sometimes, you'd get to do different tasks like helping the noble daughter pick out a dress or shoes for the day, but that's only if you get called.
you pick up the cooking and cleaning quite fast because you used to help your parents a lot. and though the work hours can be tiring, the food you're eating and the place you sleep in is a lot better.
you also get the occasional freedom and access to improve your seamstress skills, and it's not the ideal life, but it is the best one for someone like you.
--
you hear a grunting sound close by one morning when you decide to wake up earlier than usual.
turning to the source, you see a figure far away near the tall gates, prancing around in his heavy armors with a sword in his hand. the sight definitely amazes you as you're only able to stare in awe before accidentally creating a ruckus that catches the attention of the stranger as he turns around.
it's still dark and you can't see his face very well, only until he starts walking toward you.
"can i help you?" he asks, voice a type of husky but innocent.
"oh, no." you shake your head, "i was just uhm... watching."
he chuckles and looks to the ground, your eyes trained on the way his dark hair ruffles along with his movements until he's staring at you again, finally out of the poor lighting.
he's cute and has childlike features. definitely not an appearance that gives away he could probably slice you dead right now if he wants to.
"you're the new worker," he vocalize, and it takes you a second to figure how he knew, following his gaze to the door of the chamber behind you.
"ah, yes i am." you nod.
"cool. well, i'm the gatekeeper. jongho."
"gatekeeper?" you crank an eyebrow, so far behind on rich people terminology, you have no idea what that means.
"i just protect and patrol the place in case of any intruders. it sounds fancy but it's really not. you don't have to keep it formal, though. we're all servants here."
"i see." you smile tight-lipped.
he also does look a little too young to be manhandling weapons or putting his life on the line, but you too, are also too young to be losing your parents and getting sold off as a servant.
for anyone in the lower three districts, it is all for survival.
you soon learn that jongho was born in the fourth district but he's been living and training here for so long, he can barely recall his time there.
and you're not sure what it is about him that makes you open up given the fact you've been closed off for so long ever since your parents death and the comprehension of the cruel world you're living in, but through the year and before you turn sixteen, you find your first true friend in choi jongho.
age 16:
you get acquainted with hongjoong, a friend of jongho and a messenger who travels in and out of the districts to deliver any important information.
you're not sure how he keeps his identity on the low in spite of the growing tension between all the districts, but jongho assures you he has his ways.
jongho spends his days training with many kinds of weapons; swords, spears, daggers, crossbows, and just about everything when he's not guarding the house--which he usually isn't because the second district is still relatively safe at this time.
but if there is any outside attackers, it would be jongho's and the other men's responsibilities to protect the noble family. it's what they've all been trained for.
you still cook and clean, and your sewing skills have gotten increasingly better that you also started picking up embroidery.
on the occasion, jongho would teach you how to use a dagger just so you'd have some knowledge of self defense and protection considering the alarming state of the nation.
and now that you're living under people of noble status, royal parties and balls were the standards. not that you'll ever get to attend them for yourself, always hearing about it for an alternative or watching the noble family dress up in pretty attires that cost hefty coins before they waddle off in their carriage into the first district.
hongjoong returns a week later, informing you and jongho that the conditions, especially in the fifth district, is really bad that some citizens have decided to risk their lives in hope of reaching the kingdom of aurora since ships and boats cannot be sailed without approval from the royal family.
"it's basically a death sentence to be living in any of the lower districts at this point. i fear if the king doesn't do anything about it, a civil war may be on the horizon."
age 17:
not much changes and hongjoong has said that the king, along with other royal and noble families, refused to take actions since the dividing of resources for all the other districts would cause the first and second to falter because they do not have enough for everyone.
it's better to keep some afloat than to put the entire nation at risk.
"but sir, that's only going to keep running the citizens out of the nation, and the ones that do stay are becoming angry. the first organization against the royal family already formed, calling themselves outlaws. and they're not just ordinary citizens. they could infiltrate the two higher districts if they want to. a solution is not to only keep them happy, but to also prevent a war."
"then strengthen the security. we also have equally skilled men, if not, more. send any able-bodied men to the gates of the first and second district and don't let anybody from the lower threes enter."
age 18:
things only get worse. nobody is allowed to travel freely between the districts anymore and anyone from the first two were strongly advised not to go down because the chances of getting robbed or assaulted are high.
the four working men in the house dwindled down to two because the other two, including jongho, would be sent to guard the entrance. but during rotation when he gets to come back to sleep and eat, he'd tell you that it's eerily quiet, but that all the lower districts know the higher ones are blocking off entrance and might retaliate soon.
"we should be prepared for the worst. hongjoong said the fact they're quiet might mean the organization is planning something."
age 19:
for a while, security at the entrance decreases when it looks like the lower districts weren't gonna try to do anything about it.
jongho and the other men in the house were able to stay around longer, sometimes even for a few days straight without going back, and the outrage did feel like it was just a false alarm.
no one in the higher districts, even hongjoong, were prepared for the storm that is after the calm.
"y/n! wake up!"
you groggily groan at the voice, sounding both hushed but eager as it jolts you from sleep.
it's jongho and he looks absolutely terrified, his figure hovering over your body still in bed.
"come on, y/n! we have to get going!"
you don't have the time to take in anything, jongho already pulling you up harshly to stand on your feet as you hurl out more groans and complaints.
"what's going on? i was sleeping, you know."
"the king is dead."
it's those words that makes you more awake than ever, unable to believe as you just stare dumbfoundedly while he ravages the drawers for more appropriate clothings.
"w-what? h-how?" you can barely form anything coherent at this point, your heart racing so fast.
"he was assasinated," jongho reveals, throwing a loose, oversized shirt at you. "we're not sure how they managed to get that far up the first district, but all this time, that must've been what they were preparing for--you need to get changed."
he throws you a pair of pants and continues speaking, at the same time going through almost the entire perimeter for anything that will prove useful.
you don't even care he's in the same room, your body going into shock and quickly pulling the night gown off before putting on what he gave you.
"hongjoong thinks they're planning a raid, starting from the second district and working their way up. if we stay here, we could get captured, held hostage, or whatever those outlaws want to do with us--here."
he finds the dagger he had given you sitting in the last drawer, pulling the extra sheath out of his pouch and running to tie it around your waist.
"keep this with you at all time, and remember what i taught you. just in case we ever get separated, you need to protect yourself," he demands, passing the dagger to you with an extremely serious look on his face along with the statement just now, making you queasy in the stomach.
you can't imagine having to part from jongho for whatever reason. you wouldn't know what to do.
he gestures to your shoes and you wear it quickly.
"now come on, let's go!" he grabs your wrist and your body flings forward, only managing to grab the pouch on top the dresser before your feet's following his steps out the door despite the lingering sleepiness and that you could be forgetting something else, but it's all happening so fast, your mind struggling to keep up.
you're about to ask him about the other servants, or the noble family, but as he whisk you into the nightly air, the breeze pushing past your skin, you realize that before jongho came, you were alone.
they all left you.
"where are we going?" you ask.
"down to the third district. hongjoong lended me a map and said to go through the forest, we'll catch less attention that way. he said we can stay at one of his hideouts for now."
for the next hours, you don't see anything but trees and branches in your way, and the moon high above the dark sky as it follows both you and jongho.
your feet tired and sore at this point, asking jongho to find a place to sit even for just a few minutes because you might just pass out.
"if we keep at this pace, we'll be able to make it to the third district by morning," he informs, handing over the costrel and telling you to drink.
you nod, passing it back after finishing, observing for a few seconds as jongho takes a couple sips.
"so where did everyone else go?" you finally bring up the question bothering you.
"to the lower districts. i heard some are hoping to reach the port so they'll get the chance to sail to aurora or dune, now that the royal family is in a crisis, people don't care anymore. but as you already know, we have limited ships and boats and it's going to be a bloodbath all around."
he goes on, "we only found out the king was dead when people from the first district started migrating, and then everyone in the second started panicking, and i honestly did too initially. i was about to start heading down until i remembered you."
you smile and nudge the boy with your elbow affectionately.
"if not for you, i probably would've turned into a corpse by tomorrow."
"pfft," he scoffs, "not a corpse but a captive maybe. their target is still the royal family, and now that the king is dead, they'll most likely go after the prince. the raid is just to scare people off so they can bask in the lavish that the first and second district has to offer. but still, it's better to be safe than sorry. they did killed the king, after all."
you take in the information, asking one last question.
"and where is hongjoong?"
"he was also in the second district at the time, but after lending me the map and instructions, he said he's gonna go up in order to get more details; hopefully talk to the prince and will report back in a few days."
"do you think he's going to be okay?"
jongho nods and stands up from the log, reaching his hand out to help you.
"he should be. he wouldn't be able to survive for this long if he isn't competent. but we should get going or else the trip will be delayed."
--
the hideout is a small shack in the corner of the wood, blending into the surroundings so perfectly, you and jongho almost missed it.
it's essentially a square with a single wooden bed, one chair, and a small table with an ewer sitting on top. jongho said the water in there should still be good to use, and that he brought enough breads to survive on for a few days.
"i can take the floor," he says, taking off the crossbow and sword that's been stuck to his body for an entire night and settling them down.
"we can take turns," you offer an alternative, pitying the boy because he's the one who's been doing most of the works.
"alright."
he nods it off. he wasn't gonna fight you on it.
you and jongho passes time by training for the majority of time. sometimes, you'd just watch, but when he isn't worn out by his own routine, he'd tell you the basics of a crossbow and a knightly sword and would proceed to watch you practice with the dagger.
"you're holding it like a coward who's never fought in their life," is his usual criticism.
"well maybe cause i am a coward who has never fought before," you will retort.
"when facing an enemy, you can't show that you're afraid. you have to believe in yourself."
"easy for you to say."
but regardless of his yapping that sometimes make you roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head, he's a good teacher and even complimented you. if saying that you're a lot less awful than when you started, counts.
three days later from when you both settled, the light, passive knock at the door alerts you and jongho, you almost wishing it was one of the outlaws, preferably a weaker member just so you can put what you've learned to use.
but it's hongjoong.
"so what did the prince say?" jongho asks, quick and eager.
"he's recruiting. said he'll take in anyone still willing to stand by his side while he figure things out. he needs time."
"what about the guards and men that were in the castle? isn't it their duty to protect the royal family?"
"more than half of them ran to the lower districts. the outlaws probably won't do much to a normal citizen, but they will be vile to anyone on the prince's side."
"and he didn't try to stop them?" you join, hongjoong turning his head to you and shaking.
"he said he wasn't gonna force anyone who didn't want to stay. but for those willing to fight by his side, he'll take them."
you don't mean to come off hypercritical, but you can't help but think that the prince is being careless.
"but the outlaws want him dead, no? he shouldn't be taking in just anybody. that's too dangerous."
hongjoong just shrugs.
"that was his order."
a silence hangs between the three of you after, and one glance at jongho, you see that conflicted look in his eyes and know that he's about to say something you won't like.
"i'll go."
you snap your neck to him so fast, there must've been a pop.
"what--jongho, no," you object, worry in your tone. hongjoong just standing by and watching the incoming dispute unfold.
"it's better than standing around and waiting for something to happen."
"but putting your life on the line? for all you know, there might not even be a solution at all. look at the state of the kingdom. people are running away, everyone fearing for their own safety. in the end, you could be dying for nothing. did you forget it's because of these people that us born in the lower districts have to live a shit life?"
by now, you're both facing each other and fuming through your noses.
"and did you forget that we haven't been to the lower districts in years? ever since we got the opportunity to move into one of the top two? even if we were just servants, we were living better than a normal family in the fifth district. i was guarding and blocking off an entrance because i was so much better than the people trying to get through. you think i enjoyed doing that shit? no. but it was my job. in some ways, we betrayed our roots, y/n. and you're right. the prince could be lying and stalling out of his ass, but you know... i'm hoping that he's not. because for once, i want to feel like i'm doing something worthy. i didn't train all my life just to guard gates where nothing ever fucking happens nine out of ten times."
you watch in disbelief as he turns to pick up his crossbow and sword.
"so whether you like it or not, i'm going."
he gives hongjoong a stern look, to which the older man returns one, but is soon carried away by your voice again.
"then i'm going with you."
and jongho knows he's going to sound like a hypocrite; the fact he cares for you as much as you care for him so he doesn't want you to put yourself in the face of danger.
he also understands that you share the same sentiment in regard to him, which is why you don't want him to go.
"no. it's safest for you to stay here. you don't have the same training and combat that i do. you can barely hold a dagger the right way and it's one of the most light and basic weapon. those outlaws will pummel you like a bug."
you roll your eyes and you can see hongjoong trying to hold in his laughter.
"well geez, thanks, master. but boohoo. all i know is that i need to stab," you snark, managing to pull a small smile from jongho before switching tone. "i'm serious, though. i know i'm not gonna be pounding anyone, but i'd still like to come with. it would put a lot of my worries to rest knowing you're alive and okay."
"i'll be fine, y/n," he assures, one hand on your shoulder, "and if it'll make you feel better, if hongjoong doesn't mind, he can come once in a while to inform you of what's going on."
you meet hongjoong's gaze at that and he nods with a thin smile.
but that's still not good enough for you because how can you possibly be okay with the only person you can call family, going off and risking his life?
you're not.
which is why when they both finally depart, you wait until they're a good distance away yet still visible to the eye, tying the sheath the way jongho did and sticking your dagger in before taking the costrel he left for you along with the remaining breads and following right behind them.
hongjoong used to travel on horseback but he has to be more discreet this time around, especially going up the higher districts.
you're somewhat thankful for that because you're not sure you can keep up if that was the case.
you stop when they stop, and rest when they rest. you would try listening in on their conversations but it's always inaudible from where you're at.
you put aside the pain of an aching feet or fear of the nightly forest, afraid you would give yourself out.
two days later, you're sure you guys are close. a part of you somewhat curiously pumped because you've never wander up the first district before.
with the sun setting and the stars soon to come out, you're hoping to arrive before it gets too dark because you really are dreading the idea of spending another night hidden behind itchy bushes.
dragging yourself up the steep hill, you can't help but to admire the scenery, the air of utopia still fresh and the birds still chirp like the nation is whole, resuming your steps only to see that you've lost sighting of jongho and hongjoong, and if you're any quicker, they will catch on.
you don't panic just yet, although you're getting nervous, but carrying on because the castle shouldn't be too far from here. as soon as you can spot it, it should be easy to trace it back to the two.
the only problem is how you're gonna get in once you reach it.
as you get closer to the top, you can spot the castle's head peaking, and once finally on flat land, you're able to see the entire thing, and the dazzling white architecture is hard to miss.
the heart and soul of utopia planted right in the center of the first district, and you've never seen anything more sophisticated in your entire life. but as you sneak closer, you're sure that you're not even gonna make it past the portcullis.
if you don't find jongho, you'd be coming all this way for nothing.
--
you've been watching the guards at the gate and their patterns of behavior for the last hour, every time inching closer to the entrance with the least amount of noise as possible.
but you should've known. you've overestimated your ability (by a large margin) thinking you can outsmart people who does this for a living, and of all places, it had to be royal family's. stupid.
you barely take a step when the pressure of a sharp object against your back make your eyes go wide in horror.
you're thinking this is it. you should've listened to jongho and should have not acted like such a know-it-all, because the next time he sees you, it will be in corspe form.
the beating of your heart is loud along with the stranger's breathing, their hand going retrieve your dagger from the sheath, and if they attack, you will have no other way to defend yourself.
"who the hell are you and why are you sneaking around my castle?" the deep, masculine tone drowns your ears.
my castle?
you foolishly turn around like an idiot, feeling the pressure of the object move to your neck instead, looking up at this mysterious stranger but unable to make anything out.
the running of footsteps and commotion can be heard from behind you, a series of voices and better lighting approaching with all the torches in the guards hands, and when you're finally able to make out the pair of eyes staring back, it feels as if you forgot how to breathe.
because if it isn't the most beautiful man you've ever seen, dark locks, sly and sharp eyes to that of a fox that looks disapproving of your choices before it turns slightly softer when he sees how harmless you actually look, the weapon in his hand lowering with a clear of his throat.
"what part of 'it's safest if you stay here' did you not understand?"
jongho's loud and frustrated voice echoes through the entire hall, pacing back and forth in place as he reprimands you in front of hongjoong, the prince, and his other royal companions.
the prince (who you have to make a point one more time that he's devastingly beautiful) was unexpectedly casual when you explained to him you were looking for your friends, even returning your dagger.
"i only came because i was worried about you. i know you would do the same for me."
"yes, but something could've happened to you. you could've gotten lost, or worse."
"as you can see, i'm fine. the most life threatening thing was the prince putting a knife to my back and neck."
"because you were limping around the castle like an idiot."
"well, what was he doing outside of it anyways?"
"why are you talking about the prince like that!" he yells, and the both of you having an awakening at the same time, registers how embarrassing and inappropriate it actually is to be having a screaming match in the royal family's hall, turns to the prince and bow in apology.
"sorry," you both mutter.
"it's fine," the prince dismisses.
when you were still living at the orphanage, some of the kids would often play guessing games about the prince just because the chances of ever meeting him were close to none, everyone might as well get creative.
some assumed he's a snob because kids being kids, they were all jealous of the fact he was living better, and so it's only natural he would think he's better than everyone else.
then some thought he looked like a troll, which was why the king and queen kept him inside most of the time.
none of you guys knew a lot about the prince, but there were words on the street that he almost never went out of the castle; some even using that as confirmation for why he's a stuck-up.
but after meeting him, he's nothing like the kids have predicted.
he definitely does not look like a troll or sound like a snob, at least so far. he's actually rather soft-spoken, though a bit aloof and stoic. but you suppose one isn't gonna be jolly after the death of their father.
--
jongho had insisted that you go back immediately, and you were considerate of the castle's deities enough to pull him outside just to object.
but you only got another line in the quarrel before the prince intervened and much to jongho's dismay, said you could stay for the night since it was getting late and traveling would be difficult.
"but you're leaving as soon as the sun comes up!" he proceeds to nag the entire time you tuck yourself to bed, the prince kindly offering a spare chamber for you to stay in.
"yes. i know," you reply, all snarky tone and turning to face the other way because he's getting on your nerves.
there's a quick silence before the edge of the bed creaks with his weight.
"look, i know you only came because you were worried about me, and you're right, i would do the same for you."
you toss slowly to look him up in the eyes from your position.
he goes on, now locking you in his gaze, "but it's way too dangerous for you to stay here, and we don't know when they're going to attack. and worse, if they see you're in alliance with the prince, who knows what they'll do? i'll be fine. this is what i've trained my whole life for. you just have to believe in me."
you sigh and frown, finally deciding to cave because you do know that jongho is capable. you've never doubted him. it's the opponents that you're unsure of, their next moves could be anything.
"i'll go back, but hongjoong still needs to follow the end of the deal."
jongho smiles warmly, relieved you're no longer trying to fight him on this.
"he'd be happy to."
you nod, figuring that since you're already here, you might as well ask.
"so how many men volunteered?"
"for now, three. me, someone named yunho from the third district, and another guy named minjun. but more might wind up later, who knows."
"i still don't think it's smart of the prince to be taking in just anyone. it's way too risky. you have good intentions, but what about the two other?" you voice concernedly, your forehead starting to crease from the distress.
you just met the prince, but you know that the idea is ridiculous and you don't want him meeting the same fate as his father.
"optimism maybe? i don't know. more than half of the royal family's protections are gone so he probably can't be too picky. but i'd like to think he knows what he's doing."
but he's also still young and is currently in a worse position than his father, the king, who couldn't even save utopia. you don't think anybody is ready to be in his place, let alone lead an entire kingdom that's falling apart.
"alright. then you should return to the others; help them look after the prince. he's going to need it."
"actually, he ordered us to stay with the queen and princess."
you shoot up from position, incredulity written all over your face.
"what--why? all of you guys? then who's going to look after him?"
jongho shrugs.
"i disagree as well, but after all, he's the prince. we can't disobey orders."
"you guys should be allowed to if it's foolish. what is going on in his head?" you shake your own, unable to believe it.
you just know that something bad is gonna happen, and it would be due to the prince's own incompetence.
jongho has no idea either given he only just met him as well, but he's crossing his fingers the prince will prove both of you wrong.
"i have to go. you should get some rest because you'll be leaving in the early morning. i'll see you then."
--
you're woken up by a heavy disturbance, the ruckus happening outside of the room but also sounding so close.
it might be best if you stay here; leave whatever the noises is to the guards in the castle, but you just feel it in your guts that your prediction have came true.
carefully opening the door, you peek your head out, immediately drawn to the bright light illuminating at the end of the hall, and soon, your quick and eager feet has taken you to the shocking sight.
the prince standing before jongho and another guard as they hold back someone you can't quite recall. one of his hand tending to the cut on his left arm, and you can see the red seeping through the thin white fabric.
the prince meets your eyes when he notices you standing outside.
"i knew it!" you screech, your turn to pace back and forth as jongho watches from the side. "he shouldn't have just taken in anyone!"
you found out it was minjun, one of threes who volunteered along with jongho, who attacked the prince. apparently, he had snuck away from the other guards and was in the prince's room within minutes, a sword aimed at the young royal that could've taken his life.
"luckily, he only got off with a cut. i can't even imagine what would've happened."
jongho groans anxiously, the first day on the job and the reality of it already showing its head.
"there's nothing luck-based about the prince's survival," hongjoong's voice has you both turning as he appears from the opened door.
"prince san isn't only highly skilled in all areas of fighting, but he's the best warrior utopia has to offer. he most likely knew about the attack beforehand, which was why he only got away with a cut considering minjun also isn't just an average member of the outlaws," hongjoong reveals, the new information makes you and jongho gawk at each other in surprise.
"y/n," he calls out, and you detach from jongho's eyes to look at him.
"yes?"
"i need you to do me a favor. i trust you enough, and you look rather... harmless."
you pinch in your brows. if he wants to go off about your terrible fighting and self defense skill, he might as well just spell it out.
"the prince said he has a plan, but we're going to need to buy time. and no matter how skilled he is, we can't keep dealing with people coming into the castle in attempts to severe the prince's head. it's best if he's away until we can figure things out, for his safety and the kingdom's."
you only hum and nod, wondering where exactly this is going.
"he'll be leaving with you in the morning."
your face falls in horror, unable to believe they're entrusting the prince to you. the thoughts of being alone with someone like him both terrifying but weirdly stimulating.
"oh my gosh, she's blushing..." jongho yelps, a smirk tugging at his lips. he's seen the way you'd ogle at the prince, definitely something you never did to any other men.
"i'm not!" you cry defensively, embarrassed. "i-i just don't think i'm the right person."
"we just need the prince away from the castle for a few days. for now, it look like the outlaws are not planning on moving up the first district entirely, so the rest of us should be safe as well for the time being. you still remember the way back to the shack, right?"
you nod hesitantly.
"good. then it's settled."
--
the following morning, everyone bids farewell to the prince, the queen and princess wishing him well as the guards and hongjoong stack him with equipments, while jongho makes you carry the food and water.
he takes off the royal attire, disguising himself in commoner clothings instead, as recommended by his companion, wooyoung.
hongjoong promises to report back once things get relatively better.
at first, it's nerve-racking because you just can't help it. the prince is so handsome and your touch-starved body just reacts naturally, but once you figure he isn't gonna talk to you, only gesturing or murmuring out short instructions, the spark wears off.
"we should stop and rest for the night," he speaks more than three words for the first time, laying down his stuff and nodding to the tall tree.
"alright."
you settle your things down as well, plopping against the tree and waiting for him to do the same but he instead pulls out the sword and starts slashing the air.
when he takes notice of your gawking from behind, he apologizes.
"sorry, i'm just... practicing, hope you don't mind. you can rest, i'll keep watch."
you nod it off, sleep soon taking over, but when you wake a few hours later, able to tell from the different color painting the sky, the prince is still practicing and seems just as eager as he was before.
"prince," you call out, his movements halting in place as he turns back at the sound of your voice.
"call me san."
you clear your throat, "uh... san, have you slept at all?"
he shakes his head.
"i was practicing."
you stand up, dusting off the dirts from your pants and growing concerned regarding the sleepless prince.
"you can sleep. i'll keep watch and if there's anything, i'll wake you up," you offer, but he's quick to reject the proposal.
"no need to. i'm not tired anyways. if you're feeling fully rested, we can keep going. the sun is almost up."
you watch in dejection as he goes to retrieve his things because you're not sure you can believe he's not even the tiniest bit tired from everything so far.
--
it takes almost an entire day to reach the destination, your body tired and aching for something to sit on, the minute you reach the shack, you're sprawled all over the chair.
the prince looks just fine, though.
"it's small, but comfortable," you assure the prince just in case he has any doubts in mind. because you initially did, too, but it was surprisingly homey when you last stayed with jongho.
he nods, eyes roaming the small interior.
"it'll do."
"you can take the bed. i don't mind taking the floor," you tell him, but he instead shakes his head.
"the bed's all yours. i'll be outside practicing."
you scowl and sit up from your seat.
"again? we've been traveling all day. you should really get some rest considering you didn't get any the night before."
but he's stubborn, grabbing for his sword again as you can only sigh in disapproval.
"i really don't feel tired."
"then you should eat, at least."
"i'm not hungry."
you end up going to bed alone, only listening to the prince's grunting and slashing outside as he practices like he's trying to reach out to something or someone.
the uneasiness consuming you, seeing him always looking so miserable as if something's bothering him, unable to rest or do anything else.
it's understandable because of the circumstances he's in, but you wish he would be kinder to himself.
you only give him another two hours before taking matters into your own hand, flinging the door open to his figure dancing around the area with his sword, calling his name softly that makes him stop in track to look at you.
"enough," you mumble, quiet but stern, prying the weapon out of his hold with so much power, you think jongho would be proud.
"no, i have to pr--" he reaches for the sword but you move back, the prince grabbing only the nightly air in place.
"no, you don't," you spit, your free hand going to grab his wrist and dragging him back inside. "you need to eat and rest."
the sword clinks the flooring when you drop it, sitting san down on the bed and grabbing some of the breads and dried meat before taking the seat next to him.
"i understand you're going through a lot right now and it's tough, but you need to take care of yourself. you can't wear your body out or punish it. you're not even fully healed from the cut. if something happens, if worst comes to worst, you need to be prepared to fight."
you push the food toward him but he doesn't budge the slightest. his eyes trained on it, but everything else completely frozen.
for a second, you think all the efforts is gonna go to waste because the prince won't listen, but much to your surprise, he starts talking.
"my father and everyone around me would always say i was the best fighter in the entire kingdom; that i was one of a kind, gifted from a young age, and the future of utopia. i used to believe that as well, but what kind of prick can't even save his own father?"
a small gasp fall, fussing under your breath, "san..."
"maybe i'm only as great because i had the access and materials to become great. but in actuality, i would be no more than average in any other scenarios."
"san, you are great. hongjoong said you are, and you even fought off minjun. it's not your fault what happened to your father," determination in your delivery, finding yourself oddly caring for someone you barely knew.
"father did always lived every day as if it was his last. he knew everyone was out to get him..." he fidgets with one of the breads before taking a small bite out of it. "i thought it would make me feel better if i caught his killer, but i really don't feel any different."
"so hongjoong was right. you knew about the attack?"
you watch as he ogles at the piece of bread like it's the most interesting thing in the world, noddling lightly and taking another bite.
"somewhat, yeah. i was the one who found my father's body, and you can imagine… it's not easy for any kid to see their own parent blue in the face, lying lifeless in front of them, and especially knowing their murderer got away. it made me vengeful, but i couldn't act recklessly. i had to set up a bait because i didn't know who it was, but i knew they were coming."
you listen to each of his words so attentively, and you make sure he knows.
"it could've been your friend, jongho, or the others that came along. it could be anyone. it could be all of them. but regardless, whoever it was wanted me dead just like my father and wouldn't have passed up the chance."
you exhale, looking at the prince with sympathy and sadness in your eyes, all this time you really gave him too little credits, one of your hand somehow finding itself on top his resting one and soothing it.
"i can't do much, but i'm here to listen. if we're going to be together for a while, we might as well have each other's back."
and when san finishes his food and actually goes to sleep for the rest of the night (although you did have to fight him about sleeping on the floor), you finally feel at ease, able to go to sleep knowing he's not pushing himself.
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san is the first thing you see upon waking up, his figure bending down a couple feet away and drinking out of the costrel.
he knows you're up from the movements, turning to meet your tired eyes.
"good morning."
"good morning, san."
"you should eat first. i left some out for you."
"oh, okay."
you nod politely, throwing the blanket off and getting up from the makeshift bed, but first telling him that you're gonna go wash your face.
"i checked the ewer. there's no more water in there."
"hmm," you hum, attempting to come up with a solution. "i'm gonna go down to the river. i'll be back in a bit."
"wait." his call stops you in track, half your body out the door. "i'd like to come with."
"is that okay? i mean... will that be safe?" because now that the prince is with you, you feel it is your responsibility to keep him out of danger no matter how unskillful you are. you don't want a single sighting putting his life on the line (more than it already is).
"we'll make it quick. besides, i need to wash up as well. i don't feel too clean from all those practices."
the river is actually quite close by, having never been there during your stay in this district but following the sound of nature was relatively easy to do. and you suppose hongjoong chose the spot for this reason.
once there, you're splashing your face immediately and rejoicing in the cool sensation, only just registering san's been watching you the entire time when you turn and meet his piercing gaze.
his expression blank before dropping to a smile at your wide-eye. and the first time that he does, you realize you've never seen him smile, ever. your attention taken away by the deep indentations appearing from his cheeks, and for just a second, your heart feels like it might explode.
but it's his turn with the river, you observing as he mimics you until both your faces are wet and raining with droplets.
"here," you say, pulling out the spare handkerchief you had remember to bring before coming, offering it to him then using the other one for yourself.
he thanks you, about to wipe his face when the striking design catches his eye.
"this is beautiful," he comments, your head snapping his direction. "did you make it yourself?"
you nod shyly.
"i picked up embroidery somewhere after sewing for a while."
the conversation continues on the walk back, san asking the questions because he just grasped the revelation he doesn't know anything about you.
aside from trying to sneak into his castle and being the friend of one of his guards, that's as much as he can recall off the top of his head although you're quite literally in a life or death situation with him.
"you said you picked up embroidery, so are you from the second district?"
san knows almost everyone who lived in the first district, having spent his entire life and becoming familiar with the surrounding neighbors.
during the occasional balls and parties, he'd get acquainted with some from the second districts. but he's never seen you before. if he did, he would probably be able to recognize you.
but he knows that a hobby and skill like embroidery was something only those in the top two could afford. it was a luxury, as much as san hates putting it like that.
you giggle at the thought and shake your head.
"i was a servant for a family from the second, but i'm originally from the fifth. i picked up embroidery because the daughter of the family was pressured into learning and i was there to help sometimes."
"oh..." is all he says.
maybe he expected you to have some noble blood or be from greatness, but the only thing close to the two were the shoes you shined and the people you served.
your entire life, nothing about you was ever great or noble.
you may have ran from the lower district for a better life, but you were never ashamed of where you came from.
it made you who you are, and if anything, you're a survivor.
"yeah..." you mumble, stopping once reaching the shack again.
he picks it up from your tone, correcting himself to make sure you don't misunderstand, "no. i didn't mean it like that. i'm just, curious about you and your background."
"oh?" you squeak, "then what do you want to know, prince."
you take a seat where he was sitting before, reaching for the food he left for you and looking up at him from where you are, wondering what kind of prince would want to know about a commoner like you.
"an iris," he refers to the pattern embroidered on the handkerchief, "was there a reason why you chose it?"
you smile softly, the question taking you back to a lane of memories and nostalgia.
"it was both of my parents' favorite flower. they always did clung onto any sort of hope there was when it came to our living conditions, and father would always used to say the iris not only symbolized that, but also courage and bravery. i don't know how true that is, but i tend to associate the flower with my parents. it was all i managed to take when me and jongho ran from the second district."
"that's sweet," the prince says, making your eyelashes bat as he plops down at the end of the makeshift bed but he never once look away from you. "and where are your parents?"
the death of your parents was once something that was difficult to talk about; a reality that you used to deny because you couldn't accept that they're no longer by your side and sharing the same struggles. because you guys did suffered a lot, but you all had each other.
and suddenly, you only had yourself.
it wasn't until jongho that you started to open up again; learn to let someone into your heart; to share the same struggles and to suffer all over again, but at least with someone by your side once more.
and it's with that lesson that you allow the prince in as well, unveiling some parts of yourself, for some reason feeling like you can entrust it to him.
"they passed away. the fishermen said the sea took them. it's been a long time and i've come to terms with it."
you don't miss the way his chest fall and a sullen look takes over his expression.
"i'm sorry to hear."
his life experiences and pain could never compare to anyone from the lower districts, he understands that all too well; how good and privileged he's had it.
but grief doesn't discriminate, and the feeling is... debilitating.
it makes you go into denial, nothing but a directionless road laying ahead, unable to help but think if you ever will recover.
but he feels a little better after talking to you, a living proof that no matter the loss or grief one goes through, there's a chance he will make it out fine in the end.
--
you're about to go off to bed when you suddenly remember what hongjoong had told you.
"prince," you call from below, the title just naturally rolling off despite the plenty of time he's made clear you can call him by his name.
"we have to change the dressing on your wound."
you get up to go search through one of the heavy bags, digging for some clean linens and vinegar the others had made sure to pack for the prince.
"hongjoong said we should change it every couple of days," you tell him, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stands up from the sleeping position. "your arm, prince." you gesture and watch as he rolls up his sleeve.
your cheeks for some reason start heating up at the sight, the blinking and nervous twitch of your eyes give it away, causing a giggle to tumble out of the prince at your flustered reaction.
"y/n," he speaks, once you've stared for long enough and still have yet to remove the old cloth. "that's what jongho and hongjoong calls you by."
"y-yes." you nod.
"have you ever tend to a wound before?"
"well, no. but i've been instructed on how to."
"i see." he smiles, and you're about to crack at the man in front of you. beautiful smile, perfect features, and some muscular arms to go along with it.
once you've contained yourself (or at least look like it), you unwrap the worn cut-out cloth and replaces it with a new one, every steps of what hongjoong had laid out followed to the very best of your ability.
"thank you, y/n," the prince says one more time, and the last smile on him for the night makes you think he just might be teasing you.
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the past few days that you've spent with the prince, he's proven your expectations and predictions wrong over and over again.
almost like everything you've assumed is untrue in the best way possible. his aloof and stoic ways melting into smiles and laughters when you'd tell him stories about the kids back at the orphanage and how they thought he was a troll.
spending days and nights confined to a small space with someone you just met, the idea sounding awful but the reality actually quite nice because it's comfortable with him.
he not only speaks well, his words always the most soft and unoffending as they can be, but he also listens well.
day by day, the doubts you had--whether he would be able to salvage utopia, changes to the hope and belief that he's more than competent to pull it off.
but there's still questions bothering you; the strangeness of the entire picture in how utopia managed to fall to a state this bad in the first place if the prince is as level-headed as he presents himself.
he at least should've been talking sense into the king.
so you finally ask, during a routine morning where you and san have gotten accustomed to waking up the crack of dawn, sitting facing each other and munching away on portions of food that becomes less the more days pass by.
"san," you start, his name now more comfortable on your lips. it makes him pick his up head from the food to you.
"hongjoong said you have a plan, right? the reason they sent you here was to buy time. i-i was just wondering where does it go from here?" you try your utmost best to not sound meddlesome.
you're just worried.
because as much as you enjoy the time together, the unknown makes you uneasy. you don't want to doubt him but you also don't want everything so far to be for nothing.
it's the prince's personal affairs and not yours, but you just wish for there to be assurances; some kind of proof that speaks he knows what he's doing, because the closer you get to him, the more you fear losing him.
"i have a plan, yes," he answers, the calm demeanor on him a complete contrast to the troubled one on you. "why? are you worried?"
you breathe out, eventually nodding timidly.
"it's just that the state of the kingdom right now is really bad and it's going to take a lot to please the citizens, especially the group of rebellions. the idea of peace just seems so... unreachable."
you already sound like you're about to break down, when the prince--the one actually having to deal with it, looks the most calm and collective.
he acknowledges the concern, thinking it's fairly reasonable. actually, he's surprise everyone's been able to restrain themselves from spiraling for this long.
if he was someone else, he don't think he'll be able to put his trust into an inexperienced prince in hope of him saving the entire nation as well.
"the people of utopia isn't aware, but about a decade ago, the king of aurora, the closest neighboring kingdom to us had offered to help the nation after witnessing the terrible conditions most of the lower districts were suffering from," san reveals, "but my father... he denied the help."
you squeeze your brows in disbelief.
"what--why?"
"the king of aurora only requested for utopia's protections and services in return. as you know, we may lack in every other aspects, but armed forces is our strength. almost every men in the nation has some kind of experience when it comes to fighting or self defense. aurora is a peaceful and harmonious nation, but their men do not have the same training, combats, or skills that we do, and the king of aurora acknowledged the fact. though aurora was very unlikely to get into an altercation with another nation, the king said he would feel a lot better with utopia behind them."
"my father didn't see a point in tying ourselves down, binding an 'unnecessary' responsibility to our back. he said our ancestors' done it for hundreds of years without help and it will continue to be that way. ever since then, aurora has shunned us. they're not gonna start a war over it, but in other words: they hate our guts."
there's a pause from the prince, something shifting in his eyes before he starts again.
"i love and cherish my father. he is my father after all, and most of everything i've been taught were from him. i also understand that some of the things he did were for my mother, me, and my sister. but i wouldn't ever tell him i also think he's selfish; that i disagree with his view of the world; with his way of running things."
the pain in the prince's voice and delivery is seeping, your heart curling at the amount of hurt he must keep to himself, but if you can be the one to lessen it just a little, you will listen to his every words.
"but still, he's my father and i miss him. no matter how selfish and unreasonable he was most of the times, i promise that after everything is over, i will hold a proper burial for him. i will also repay everyone that stood by my side... i promise that."
his volume tapers near the end, his gaze melting into yours at the last statement.
"i also promised i will correct the mistakes of those who came before me, and if it takes my life, at least i'll be content that i went down with my morals. that i fought for what i believed in, even if the ancestors come back to tear me to shreds for it."
you chuckle, attempting to hold back just the smallest tear pricking the corner of your eye because all you ever did was doubt and doubt, and every single time, he always proved you wrong in the best way possible.
"so you're going to attempt to make a truce with aurora?"
he nods.
"i have to try. if we want equality for everyone, we can't do it without the help of aurora. if we do it now, without aide, the nation will fall apart no different than it is now. no amount of transports based on utopia alone will be enough. but aurora's economy; the standing of their nation is stable enough that helping utopia back on its feet will barely feel like a lift of a finger to them."
"but how would the message reach them?"
"on the day that i got attacked, i sent out one of my men, seonghwa. he knows the way around the sea best. by now, considering it's almost been a week, he should have already reached aurora, but it will take another couple of days to return. that's why i need to buy enough time for seonghwa to come back. i know the citizens won't believe it until they see the king and prince yeosang of aurora for themselves."
"and just what if the king and prince rejects the offer?" you're just trying to touch upon all possibilities.
"you see... i've thought of that as well. in fact, there's probably a bigger chance of them dismissing it considering our history and all. but if that was the case, i had already told seonghwa to head for dune next. it will take him at least another week and a half because of the distance, but if worst come to worst, that's our last hope. dune would be a lot harder to get on our side because they're not lacking in anything, their only weakness is they don't have any kind of alliance. and i was hoping after we sign a treaty with aurora, we could try for dune because they'd be more willing then, knowing we also have aurora, but that's only wishful thinking."
"you really thought everything through, huh?" you have to admit, you're impressed.
"you have no idea. every night after my father's passing, i barely got any sleep... until you finally enforced it upon me."
you giggle, meeting a soft smile on the prince's lips.
"well you need it. and seeing as intricate the plan of action is, you're going to need it even more. don't overwork your body, get plenty of rest in preparation of the big day. i believe you'll be able to do it."
there's a quick silence in the air before the prince speaks again.
"thank you... for believing in me, and keeping me sane of all things."
"my pleasure."
"but if hongjoong doesn't show within a few days, or does with the bearer of the bad news, we'd have to be prepared for relocation. they will pick up that i'm not in the castle and will try looking for me. if dune is the alternative, we're going to have to buy even more time."
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"here," san says, coming from behind to stand in front of you, pulling out his own.
after observing one of his practices, he had asked how familiar you are with daggers since he recalled ripping it out of your sheath that day.
you said all understanding you have of it were from jongho, though he liked to find fault in your execution, and after a couple demonstrations, the prince seems to agree that there's a few areas you could improve on.
"a dagger is a short distance combat. some of the most basic requirements in becoming somewhat skilled at is, is trying to master the three primary positions."
you watch him get into stance.
"the first one is a downward thrust, usually used for an opponent who's not experienced in knife combat."
he acts out the method, thrusting his weapon into the air and turning to you.
"you try."
you attempt to mimic what he just did, the weapon a lot light and easier on your grip because the training from jongho did pay off in some ways.
"not bad," he comments, "just more confidence, and don't be afraid. because trust, when the enemy is coming, they won't hold back."
he tightens your grip on the dagger before stepping away.
"this certain method can also be used when an opponent is equipped with another melee weapon, or a firearm."
you nod, his encouragement and gentle teaching style as he tries reframing from straight up saying you stink in some ways or forms, is definitely preferred.
"got it! you are a much better teacher than jongho by a mile. you're actually nice to me," you joke, and the most flattered smile acrossing san's lips doesn't go unseen.
--
you wouldn't ever say it out loud, not to the prince at least.
that though leaving the place and each other's presence will be for a good cause, in some parts of you, you're already starting to dread the separation.
the parts that already grew fond of him in such a short matter of time, you fear there will never be another chance like this. together.
after everything is over, things will go back to the way it was.
he is a prince after all, and you're just... you.
"so, prince, what is the best defense weapon. figure i should ask from only the most competent person in utopia," you talk from your seat, staring up at him as he preps for another hour of practice.
he promised it'll be only an hour today.
"pfft," he blows, "don't say it like that. you might end up unimpressed."
"i mean it."
"you haven't even seen me on the battlefield."
"but i believe in you."
you hop out of your seat to him, tilting your head, "so?"
"i would say a spear. distance is honestly the best defense there is, though i do enjoy practicing with a sword more."
and that's when it happens. all the long days and nights of peace and harmony comes crashing down, from the corner of your eye catching a cloaked figure from far away standing on top one of the hills with a crossbow in their possession.
"prince!" you cry out, pushing his body away from target the hardest ever as he falls to the ground, and then a short second after, the most painful sensation of your chest being struck takes your vision and breath away.
the last thing you see and hear before fading into utter blackness is the sheer horror on the prince's face as his hands are covered with blood, and the desperate call of your name.
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"y/n!"
the sound of jongho's voice makes you think you're in a dream, only until your lids are fluttering open that you see the both, scared but relieved expression of your best friend.
"oh my gosh... thank goodness you're alive."
by how tight he's squeezing your hands, you're glad to know you're not dead just yet.
"where am i?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
"back at the castle. you were out for about four days."
"four days?" you repeat, when the memories come flooding back all at once and then some. "the prince."
you attempt to sit up but the dull pain from where you've been hit prevents you, your head falling back into the pillow.
"easy," jongho soothes your body back into position, "you lost a lot of blood, and not only that, the arrow had been poisoned. luckily, the castle has shelves of antidotes for it, but we were all worried that there was just the smallest chance you weren't gonna make it."
he pauses briefly, "the prince got you here in a day and a half... he felt really bad about what happened. he was by your side the entire time and only just left yesterday night when it was announced the king and prince of aurora have arrived."
"aurora have agreed to a truce?" your tone weak, but still filled with excitement, so happy for the prince.
"yes. and hopefully the prince can get them to sign a treaty. that's the plan. it's still going to take them another two or three days to reach the first district, but the prince wanted to go welcome them formally."
"will he be okay?"
"he's under disguise. but you should get some rest and stop worrying about someone else when you're in a worse condition than them," jongho snarks.
"just making sure..."
a smirk graces your friend, a coy look on him.
"what exactly happened back there that's now making you two act like an old married couple forced to be apart? i've known you for longer than the prince and he looked like he was in more distress than i was."
"nothing that is your business," you dismiss, hoping your cheeks doesn't tint a color that gives it away, a chuckle rolling out of jongho at that.
"you used to want to tell me everything. but fair enough. rest and wait until your body is fully healed. i'll visit you every day to update."
it's hard to wrap your head around the fact you didn't wake up for four days--which, more so, should've been the highlight, but you're more intrigued that the prince was by your side up until the last minute he had to go.
you don't want to get overly giddy about it; go beyond what's appropriate and assume that he did so because of another reason, and not just because he felt bad.
but you do wish to see him soon. even if just for a bit.
--
the next few days is a routine, usually consisting of jongho welcoming you with a wholesome breakfast that's more fulfilling than breads and dried meats, then another meal at dinner.
you're in bed for most of the time, your view usually the ceiling of the castle or the empty space around you, everyone busy and occupied now that the plan is becoming a reality.
jongho tries his best to visit you every day, and hongjoong on the occasion to check your condition, but if they're not patrolling outside, they're in halls discussing the next course of actions.
you've heard that the prince have returned just last night with the royals of aurora, not a single peace or quiet outside of your room since.
you can only hope that the loud and muffled voices outside is an indication that everything is going to work out for the prince; for the kingdom of utopia.
laying around in bed all day, only watching as the sun comes up and down as the wind sways the branches outside the window, wishing you could contribute more, if anything than just wait around all day feeling absolutely useless.
the first creak of the door ever since morning is heard, jongho having told you he won't be able to bring the next meal as he'd be out with the other guards but said someone else would.
and every time, no matter how hard you try burying the inappropriate sentiment, you wish it was the prince, even if just to see him for a minute.
you haven't seen him since that day.
but still, you're grateful to have any interactions at all. even if it's not the prince.
"hey," hongjoong greets, a thin smile on as he goes to take a seat on the stool facing the bed.
"hey hongjoong," you return, finally able to sit up without feeling like your gut's about to spill out.
"you doing better?"
you nod.
"a lot better compared to before."
"good. thought i should drop by to let you know about what's going to happen the next couple of days," his voice a deeper, stern tone, "the prince and royals of aurora will be going down the districts, one by one. the prince wants to let everyone know of the upcoming changes and fix that he has in plan. me and jongho will be away, but yunho and the rest of the guards will stay in the castle with the queen, the princess, and you."
"and how long are you guys going to be gone?"
hongjoong shrugs. "really depends. it could be a week, it could be more than that. traveling down to the fifth and coming back up here is gonna be a while. but as quick as possible, i hope."
"okay..." you frown. "just, stay safe."
you care for their safety and wellbeings more than anything. all three people of whom you're most familiar with, going off and risking their lives again. you're going to feel a certain type of way about it.
but they're doing it for a good cause. for the nation. for everyone. and so you allow to put your heart at rest just a little bit.
"don't worry. aurora brought some protections as well, and if we can convince the second district now overrun by outlaws, the rest of them should be easy."
hongjoong leaves after some last words of encouragment, and him wishing you a fast healing process.
later that night, they all left for the lower districts as stated.
--
the castle grows increasingly quiet, all ruckus from before now dwindled down to almost nothing.
the guards are usually busy patrolling outside, even more now that the prince is out, and the only people that seems to actually be around are the queen and princess.
the princess is the one to bring your meals, and you feel awful about the fact when it should be the other way around.
but she is wonderful. soft-spoken, elegant in her manners, and always with a smile on her face although you know it's not easy for anyone, especially what she's going through.
she bears almost no resemblance to san, but there's still some tell-tale features, like their eyes. the same foxy and slanted characteristic trademark on both siblings that looks so mellow on the princess, but entirely menacing on the prince.
"your tea."
the soft call of her voice would get you up from bed immediately, scooting over to thank her as you two meet eyes.
once you start feeling a lot better, able to stand on your feet and support yourself fully, you stroll the garden with the princess as she reminisce about everything crossing both of your path.
"i, too, wanted to be trained in weapons and self defense, but father said it wasn't suitable for someone like me. he would always take me out to the garden instead, in hope i'd develop a liking for it just so he didn't have to deal with the persistence. and i did... i did blossomed a love for gardening."
you scowl at the revelation.
"well, that's not right."
"it's not, but it was my father's order. he was a stubborn man and didn't like to listen to anyone. i wish i could say i saw anything else for father's ending."
both the prince and princess seems to share a mutual feeling regarding the father figure. though they understand the deeply flawed king, it's hard and conflicting when it's your own father.
"brother taught me what he could, which wasn't always possible because father was always around. but san is a good person... despite the amount of pressure father put on him, i believe he would be a great king. better than father himself."
a smile cross your lips at the mention of san.
"i believe he would be a great king, too," you add. you know he will be, and you wish for nothing more than all his dreams to come true.
"brother san seems to have taken a great liking to you," the princess brings up, recalling the signs and body language of her younger brother when he was with you despite your sleeping state and lack of awareness.
an act of affection and fondness she has never seen the prince give anyone before. not even the noble daughters that would show for events.
"oh, no," you deny, shaking your head, but the way your stomach swoops at the statement is real.
"why not?" she tilts her head, a brow raising. "do you not like him?"
"no--i mean, i do. i like the prince as a friend, but anything more than that would be innappropriate, i think." your volume tapers and your eyes shy away from hers, but the soft giggle makes you snap back.
"love is a beautiful thing. you shouldn't run from it, no matter the class difference or adversities. i know my brother wouldn't."
she smiles and pat your shoulder, abruptly taking your hand and leading the way out of the garden.
"so tell me, did you know that the kingdom didn't used to be divided into districts?"
you hum from behind, "actually, i do. i read it in an old history book i found back at the orphanage."
the kingdom used to just be utopia as a whole. no divisions of anything or labels to anyone. but when the capital found out they could cheat the system and hog all resources and supplies by dividing up the nation, the district system was implemented.
and those who lived furthest from the capital suffered the worst due to change, which was why the fifth district, a once fine ground for fishermen and access to the sea, declined overtime due to the lack of available care.
"yes," she mumbles, letting go of your hand and turning around, your feet screeching with the sudden stop. "brother wishes to abolish the system, after mostly everything gets taken care of, of course. by then, none of this 'social class' would matter as much."
you know she means it from the good of her heart; soul just as kind as her brother, but it is not only the struggle of being a fifth district kid, but also the reality of being a no one as compared to a prince.
--
you get accustomed to the newer routine, waking up the crack of dawn to go help the princess prepare breakfast the best your healing body can. just the smallest, throbbing pinch still there when you sit up, but you're fine nonetheless.
the morning when the sun hasn't even shown its head yet, your body still tired and mind hazy, the opening of the door gets a silent groan out of you as you turn to the source expecting the princess to have something for you so early.
but the sight jolts you from sleep, and you know that it's him, even in the faintest lighting.
"good morning," his voice like velvet has you sitting up, your gaze trained on him the entire time he goes to take a seat at the stool.
"good morning, prince," you return, the smallest amount of joy hiding in your delivery because you really are so happy to see him again.
he went back to the princely attire coloured in white, and his hair a slicked back kind that makes him so handsome, although some strands are loose and slightly messy from the many days gone by.
"san," he corrects you, the sound of his actual name so much better when you say it.
"san," you repeat, a short giggle after that he joins along. "so you're back already. how did it go?"
your expression changing to stern that instant, if you stare at him any longer, you might just burn a hole from how serious you are.
"a lot better than i expected," he answers, a thin smile on as he scoots closer. "i really owe it to the king and prince of aurora. if they hadn't took pity in me, i don't know what else i would've done. but for some reason, they chose to believe in me, and i really am so grateful for that."
he must've been so scared but unwilling to show it. unwilling to give away the fear that the kingdom in his hand is so close to crumbling down by a mere inch, everything could fall apart just like that.
but he had to persist through the hardships and doubts; masking any weaknesses because it would scare away the people if he did. if the ruler of the kingdom itself barely has any faith in the situation.
you reach for his hand, the stronge urge to comfort him as the soft look on you melt into his.
"san, they believe in you because they can see that you're capable. and i believe as well, that you from now on, you will make utopia a better place for the people."
he thinks that you always have such a way with words; how they always make him feel so warm and at ease every time. it's never felt so easy with anyone before.
"y/n," he calls almost in a whisper, taking his hands out of your grasp to now enclose yours. "i apologize for not visiting you. but as soon as i returned and had cleared everyhing with the royals of aurora, i came to you immediately."
"no. it's okay. you have a duty as the prince of the nation, i totally understand. there's no need to apologize."
you can feel his grip on you getting tighter, his eyes a type of desperate but also affectionate.
"but still, you saved my life. you traded yours for mine. to me, you're just as important."
you're surprise by the confession, an array of butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach and you can see the prince growing more tense, but nonetheless, he persists.
"before i go any further, can i ask you one question first?"
you nod at that. "go ahead."
"you and jongho..." he starts, only to thin out before trying again, "are you guys... dating? or, well, do you like him?"
he's nervous and if he wasn't holding you, he would probably start fidgeting to hide the fact.
"me and jongho?" you quirk an eyebrow, failing to hold back the snicker from the thought while the prince just stares dumbfoundedly.
"i love jongho, but he's more like family than anything. we've been through a lot together but i can't see him in that light."
you've given similar answers out a couple times, especially to the other servants who thought you both had a crush on each other.
the prince's chest drop in relief and you can't hide the amusement you get from it.
"what? you thought me and jongho had something?" you can't stop giggling.
"well, i just had to make sure," he says, a hint of embarrassed and shy that is incredibly cute.
he wouldn't tell you that the one time he actually decided to come in the midst of everything, jongho was already by your side and if you didn't look so happy, he wouldn't have went back because he could tell jongho is someone special to you.
"so?" you await what he has to say, the eagerness only making him more nervous.
the grip on you loosening up to a more softer but more intimate one, one of his thumb running over your hand before he speaks.
"i know this might be too sudden and we haven't known each other for long, but, if your heart isn't taken by anyone, i'd like to ask for a vow."
you just stare ahead and wait for him to finish the sentence, your heart beating exceptionally loud.
"i understand it's a bit abrupt, but... i-i've never felt this way with anybody else. there's something special when i'm you, and i'd like to ask for a vow; a promise that we'll reserve our hearts for each other."
he's so scared, willing to take the chance at first because he will regret it if he doesn't. but now, he's afraid he might've ruined whatever he had with you in the first place, retracting immediately when there's only silence from you.
"but it's not an obligation. you don't have to. i'm just--"
"--i would love to," you cut, watching the panic on his face dissipate that instant.
"really?"
"yes. i would love to," you assure once again, the thinnest smile crossing your lips that soon turns bigger when he returns one.
he's absolutely over the moon to know the feeling is mutual; that what he felt and got from the time together wasn't just because you were compelled to treat him equal to his title.
that something more came out of it.
"but..." you mumble, the smile fading when reality sets in again. "is this going to be okay? you're a prince, and i'm just... me."
"of course it's going to be okay. i don't care who or what you are," he comforts, delivery incredibly passionate, you can't fight it. "but more importantly, before you give me your words once and for all, i need to know if you'll be okay with the conditions first. you can be honest. i won't be upset because i would never try to hold you back regarding anything."
"i'm listening," you acknowledge.
"the citizens of utopia have decided to give me a chance. that chance is not only to salvage the nation, but to also prove to them that i'm capable of leading and won't repeat the same mistakes those who came before we did. i don't know how long it's going to take; specifically how many years. but i will crack down on any remaining harmful outlaw members, i will be traveling in and out of the kingdom a lot, and i will be working on making this nation a better place for everyone. that is something i promised to do, and i will do just that."
he takes a deep breath and start again, eyes on yours. "so if you don't want to wait, i won't hold it against you. if there's things or someone better out there waiting for you, you don't have to accept my proposal. but just if you do... if you're willing to wait for me, once the nation is in a stable state and i don't have to stress too much about being all over the place, i promise then, that i will ask for your hand in marriage."
the bold declaration does take you by surprise, hard to grasp that the prince of all people would want to marry you.
"i know it's a lot to take in," he says, "but you don't have to give me an answer now. whenever you're ready."
you shake your head.
"no--i mean, i would love to. no matter how long i have to wait, i think it'll be worth it. after all, the nation is your priority and the people needs you."
he's taken aback by how fast you made up your mind, but overjoy that you want it just as much as he does. he can't be any happier.
"you're sure you want to do this?" he asks again just to be sure, but crossing his fingers you don't just so happen to change your mind.
you nod earnestly.
"i'm sure. besides, i doubt any guy would ever be interested in me let alone want to get married."
he chuckles, a sound you can to listen all day.
"even if they are, they can't get you now. so i don't want to see any of them trying to woo you or something. and you can't give in because you already gave me your words."
it's your turn to laugh, the jealousy endearing on him.
"well how would i know you'll keep your words, too? what if i wait and wait until i'm a grandma with grey hair only for you to take it back? marry someone else instead and say you don't want me anymore?" you tease.
"tskk," he sneer, "that won't happen, because i would never promise anything i knew i couldn't do. so you don't have to worry."
a reassuring smile spreads across his lips as so does yours, seconds passing by when the silence consumes the room and the both of you just stare at each other, completely smitten.
you notice the slightly fallen strands covering his eyes, going to move it with your finger but your hand stopping at his cheek after, a staring contest ensuing before something comes over you, leaning over to deliver a kiss to his other cheek.
when you pull back, the shy and flustered reaction of the prince brings another giggle out from you.
"i believe you, then. go and show everyone that they made the right choice in giving you a chance. go and make the nation a better place for the citizens. no matter how long, when you come back, i'll be right here... for you."
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age 20:
you're twenty years old when the district system is abolished, and when you're nearing twenty-one, it will have been a year since you've spoken to the prince, and will be a few months that you've last seen jongho.
he had been given an opportunity to stay at the castle as one of the prince's permanent companions and took it.
as for you, you moved back to what used to be the fifth district, your heart and soul still full of regard for the place no matter how far you run because every last memory of your parents are rooted here.
you didn't want and couldn't ask for anything in return for the loyalty to the royal family during their toughest time, only taking the coins they had kindly insisted on giving and proceeded to find somewhere to settle. make a life for yourself.
the first few months after declaration of adjustments were as tough for anyone else as it was for you. no matter how positive of an effect, changes are always difficult.
the nobles having to reclaim their homes again after migrating from fear of the outlaws; the party finally retreating, and the former having to piece everything back together with the thought in mind that everything won't be the same, but it will be fair.
the lower districts benefitting the most from the changes but time is their biggest adversary, because though good things are coming, they're not going to come in an instant. having to wait days, months, years, for the full glory to show can be defeating.
but nevertheless, it's coming, and tomorrow will be better than yesterday and so forth. a year later and you can already notice the difference, especially the sea that once gave up on the nation ready to ripple once more.
where you're currently at, you couldn't have done it without the help of those around you. hongjoong who gave you full rights to his hideout in the fifth district because he won't have the use for it anymore, having also been promoted to work alongside the prince.
and with the coins the royal family gave you, you put it into materials to hone the skill you're best at, now finally making a living off sewing and embroidery.
over the year, you've renovated the small shack to your liking with the knowledge you carried from your father, building something for yourself you can call home.
you can still recall that feeling; the first sinking realization of being alone and the taste of freedom. you no longer belonged to somebody or owed anything to anyone. no longer the poor kid just waiting for a better life.
you were your own person, and it feels amazing to be free, though you think it would be even better if he was there.
the thought of him crossing your mind every couple of days, wishing for nothing but only the best for him, hopeful that one day, he will return to fulfill the promise.
"those are some fine handkerchiefs you have there," a young man's voice stops you, spinning around to greet him with a smile.
"you crafted them yourself?" he asks, his tone a type of mischievious that you don't even read into.
"yes," you simply reply, always putting on your best behavior when there's a possible customer. "would you like to take a look at them for yourself?"
"i'd love to."
you untangle the basket from your arm and start going through the many fabrics of your creation.
"wow. not only is the creator herself beautiful, but so are the creations. i've never seen these kind of patterns before," he comments, a smirk on that is both amused and flirty, you can't help the way your cheeks immediately reddens.
the man only seems to find the sight even more endearing as a snicker bubbles out of him while you're still just standing there because you've never met someone so shameless before.
you're about to say something when an arm is thrown around your shoulders instead, turning to the source and your body an immediate mix of relieved, joy, and a skipping heartbeat.
"san..." you say by natural instinct, his unreadable expression meeting yours before moving to the young man in front.
"i'm sorry, i told her to not go wandering by herself but she wouldn't listen. let's go back, honey."
he snatches the basket out of your hold with his other hand and hauls you back the other way.
"i've only been gone for a year and you're already flirting with another man?" he accuses once you're able to flee from his clutch, his steps following right behind you as a pout overtakes his face.
"i wasn't flirting. i was trying to make money," you weakly defend, focus on the path back to your place that you believe the word 'cottage' would be more fitting for.
"you're way too beautiful and talented to be out there spending your days talking to young men."
"pfft," you blow, "and you're way too handsome and princely to be traveling everywhere and going to other kingdoms in the presence of other noble and royal daughters."
"and i'd still choose you, baby."
your heels dig the dirt flooring, snapping around from the pet name, a laughter at the verge of coming out.
san can see the amusement on your face, only smirking in response.
"what? i know you like being called that."
this time, you really do laugh and he follows right after, absolutely in love with everything about you. whether that's snarking back or laughing at him.
"whatever you say, prince," you poke more fun at him before dragging him by the wrist into your place.
"cute what you've done," he pass a comment while you put the basket away.
"yes. and i have just about everything i need."
it's just a little bigger than the hideout back at what used to be the third district, but it has the same convenience in that it's close to the river, cutting out trips to the bathhouse which saves a lot of time.
he nods, the dimpled smile never leaving his face.
"so... what brings you here?" you eventually ask, sitting next to him on your bed, the atmosphere shifting because despite enjoying the banter and mischief of it all, you miss him and haven't seen him in over a year.
"we just returned and arrived at the port this morning, so i wanted to come visit and see how you're doing. you know, to make sure no one was trying to sweep you off by your feet."
you playfully land a slap to his shoulder, snickering.
"you're ridiculous. all year long and my love life is so dry, but the one day someone acknowledges me, you just have to come back," you reply with sarcasm.
"i'm sorry to ruin that for you, but you can't take it back. you promised to marry me, and i will make sure every guy in the kingdom knows that."
you remember the first time meeting san, his state of grief making him almost an entirely different person. quiet, stoic, and always in distress, it's the most wonderful surprise that he's actually a child at heart.
able to let loose once in a while and just have fun.
"no need to. you won't have any competitions at all."
he chuckles quietly at that and closes any remaining distance between you two.
"you speak too lowly of yourself when you're the most beautiful girl i've ever seen."
you bat your eyelashes, shying away from his gaze. you just blush way too easy.
he chuckles at the sight and moves the subject along, "but i also came because i have good news. the king and prince mingi of dune have agreed to a treaty."
"really? t-that's great!" you stumble your wording, beyond happy for him because this was everything he wanted and planned for.
"yeah. it wasn't easy but the fact we have aurora did most of the convincing. dune was... interesting to say the least," he says, briefly recalling the month he spent at the kingdom.
"you did it, though" you smile. "it's only going to get better from now on."
"i hope so. but it seems the real challenge just began. this place is going to need a lot of work."
"that, it is. but for now, you just need to relax. rest a little and eat if you already haven't. i can make you some soup, would you like that?"
he nods.
"i would love that."
he loves how comfortale and easy it is with you. when the weight on his shoulders gets too heavy, he can always rely on you to make it better, even if just for a bit.
--
"so where do i sleep?" he asks, walking back in after washing himself by the river with the towel you gave him.
the day had been nothing short of a dream, eating and cleaning together and just small exchanges that multiplies the butterflies in your stomach.
you wish everyday was like this.
"the floor," you joke, the response making him scowl.
"i'm carrying the nation on my back and you're gonna make me sleep on the floor?" he throws the towel over his shoulder, his wet strands of hair swaying along with his movements.
"that bed looks big enough for the two of us." he points with his chin. "besides, we're gonna get married anyways."
you roll your eyes, snatching the towel from him as you go to ruffle his wet hair with it, his shout of protests underneath coming out muffled.
"fine." you land the fabric back around his neck, crawling into bed and scooting to the wall to make space.
he lays down and faces you, your gaze burning into each other's when he cranks out a smile.
"i'll be leaving in the morning and you might not see me again for a while after. don't you think you should give me something to remember you by?"
your brows furrow, your mind jumping to conclusion considering the position you guys are in and the tone in which he said it.
"i'm not gonna have sex with you," you spit, prompting the loudest laughter ever from him, followed by confusion from you.
"no, of course not. i was talking about another of your handkerchiefs."
"oh..." you murmur, feeling embarrassed.
"not until we get married at least. then, we can do it," he states with confidence, the thought of taking you to bed and inserting control another way is tempting, and he can't wait for the day.
you smack his chest lightly, as flustered as you are, you can't help the giggle that slips out.
a few seconds of silence pass by before he starts moving closer, his breath ghosting your skin and finger going to caress your cheek.
"i really do want to kiss you right now, though," he confess, "if that's okay with you."
you nod as much as your pillowed head allows you to.
"that's okay with me."
you close your eyes shut, trying to keep from flinching as you await his kiss, moments later only for his lips to crash against yours, his hand moving to your jaw and his body pressing forward as the kiss deepens.
you kiss him like it's the last kiss between you and him; like your life depends on it, the bed creaking under as he takes it upon himself to connect your bodies.
he pulls back much to your disappointment, both of your chests heaving and trying to catch your breath, his forehead bumped with yours and tip of his nose brushing your own.
"good enough," he speaks, his breath still not yet returned, "any more than this and i might not be able to contain myself."
you giggle, placing a soft peck on his cheek, flashing one last smile.
"goodnight, prince."
--
"have a safe trip, and take care of yourself," you bless, blue in your heart as san makes his way back to you after speaking to the coachman.
all the laughters and butterflies of yesterday won't be experienced again until who knows how long. he will be away after this, and you will miss him dearly.
you wish he could stay but you know he can't. he has something bigger and better to worry about.
he stops before you, melancholy in his eyes as well. he doesn't want to leave you but he has to. and as much as he wants to take you along, he can't let you bear the same responsibilities and weight.
he wants for you to be there, when he already made everything better.
"you take care of yourself, too." his hands naturally finding itself cupping your cheeks. "don't overwork yourself."
"i won't."
you place your own hands over his, desperate to salvage his touch for one last time.
"when can i expect to see you again?" you ask.
"i don't have a definite answer, but i'll be back. i promise."
you two share one last kiss before you watch him go off, blue still in your heart, but you know that someday, he'll come back, and it will be to stay.
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age 23:
you're twenty-three years old when there's a knock at the door one suspicious morning.
living in the middle of nowhere, and even over the years, you're only able to count on one hand the range of selection there is when it comes to who it could be.
"hongjoong?" you squint, the man you haven't seen in forever looking slightly more buffed; mature, his hair styled and attire new and shiny.
"great seeing you again," he greets, still on horseback and glancing down at you.
"would you like to come inside? for some tea or a drink?" you ask, figuring it's only proper etiquette you do.
"i'm good. i only came to deliver something."
you continue squinting, one hand shielding your eyes from the early sun, reaching out when hongjoong hands you a letter and unfolding it.
"an invitation from the prince?" you read, incredulity as you shoot up to look at him.
"yes. the prince is finally accepting his accession to king and the coronation will be held a week from now. that is all i have for today. i have to head back soon."
you have so many more questions but hongjoong already turns his back before you can ask them, settling for staring at the ink in awe when the sound of his voice picks your head up again.
"i hope to see you there. the prince will be expecting you."
--
you leave for the capital the following day, packing only essentials and enough coins, taking along pearl, the white horse you had purchased a year back for traveling purposes.
there's been a lot changes in the four years since san took the reign, all of them for the better, of course.
some of the homes have been revamped, some new ones added, and everywhere you passed, there are greens and beauty in each sceneries.
the citizens look happier, kids a lot less miserable and even those in the orphanages are coming around to the new implements along with those in progress to solve overcrowding.
members of the outlaws have dwindled over time and quieted.
for the first time in hundreds of years, utopia is able to live up to its name in some form; a place of ideal perfection.
so you couldn't fret too much; be upset that in the three years that have passed, san's only visited you once. because if it wasn't for him, the nation wouldn't have been able to achieve the current state.
you travel to the capital with hope, expectation, and excitement at the fact you will be seeing him again; a strong belief that everything will feel just the same as last time.
you stop at inns to rest when the nights fall and start again at dawn, reaching the destination in five days total, the day before san's coronation.
there isn't any difference to the castle, not even a bit. a touch of nostalgia hitting you when thinking back to the event four years ago.
entrance is easy to get through, showing both of the guards who seems to recognize you, the letter.
tying your horse to the nearest tree, you proceed to the door with a pounding heart, banging on it twice before the castle door creaks from the other side, absolutely no idea who the person could be.
"y/n!"
your eyes widen at the sight, that nervousness replaced by delight.
"jongho!"
before he can get another word out, you're already in his arms, the warmth of your best friend something you missed greatly in the full year you haven't seen him.
you can him hear giggling in your hair, pulling away to that goofy smile of his as one settles on your lips as well.
"you came," he simply says.
"of course i did."
jongho takes you inside, your nosy eyes wandering the interior that's also the same as before but still dazzling with all its history, cracks in some of the wall, and antiques.
you greet the queen and the princess who only gets more beautiful by the years, them welcoming you with warm smiles and you can tell immediately the new changes other than their appearances.
they sound happier; no other burdens or weight pulling them down, carrying it around like a haunting that won't go away.
you walk around the courtyard with jongho after, finally a time and place to catch up. all those time of being with each other, you didn't think you could survive if he wasn't by your side, but to have gone four long years only seeing him once in a blue moon, you'd say that's some character development.
"how are things here for you?" you ask him, walking alongside shoulder to shoulder.
"amazing," he answers almost instantly, "it's crazy. i never thought i'd get the chance to work in the capital, but the royal family's castle? with the prince? it's everything i've ever wanted."
you can't stop smiling, his tone telling of just how much he means what he just said.
"that's great. i'm happy for you. you did always say you wanted all those training to go into something."
he nods.
"and you? how are things down there?"
"much better. it's coming together. the people's the most tame i've ever seen them."
jongho hums in acknowledgement.
"i heard you're going to become queen," he suddenly brings up, and you almost choke in return.
"and who the hell said that?"
"--i did."
the familiar voice that isn't jongho makes the both of you turn around, your stomach dropping and heart palpitating because you know all too well who it belongs to.
you can only stare breathless as he takes a step closer, your throat dry.
he's just as mesmerizing as you remember but like hongjoong, time have passed and he has gotten more bulky, manly, and handsome if that's even possible.
"i'm glad to see you can come," he mumbles, a charming smile on that render your knees weak.
jongho clears his throat, attempting to hide a smirk as he goes to excuse himself politely and walks back inside, leaving you stranded in the presence of san.
everything still feels the same with him.
"yeah. i got the letter," you reply, glancing around the empty area, "though it seems i might have gotten a tad excited."
he snickers, and oh... how you have missed the sound.
"you're the only one i gave a personal invitation to," he unveils.
"oh." your eyes swell, only to break the tension after. "then i guess i'm special."
"you are," he assures, closing the distance and taking one of your hand. "i have promised you that once utopia is stable enough, i will ask for your hand in marriage."
you watch as he goes to pull something out of the pocket of his suit, one of his knees pointed to the ground, his entire body falling with it.
"and now that i've finally reached that goal... y/n, will you marry me?"
it takes a moment for you to process everything, overwhelmed with joy and happiness before you can properly nod.
"yes. of course."
and he will marry you, after the rise to king and acceptance of his title as the ruler of utopia, keeping the promise just as he did to every others.
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permanent taglist: @moonchele
a/n: not me talking shit abt wanting broken era to be over only to go & write a 19k oneshot. but i loved writing this & had a lot of fun bc it was v different from what i'd usually write
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bird-inacage · 8 months
Text
Only Friends: Sand's crushing reality 'It's never about me'
I've noticed a lot of comments wishing Sand could be open about his feelings for Ray. Though that's a fair assessment and would save us a tonne of agony, I've attempted to delve into why this isn't so simple.
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The Weight of Dignity & Mutual Respect
Sand comes across as someone who highly values dignity. Everyone deserves to be treated with due respect, and this is seen through how he interacts with others. Sand gets upset when someone questions his integrity, such as when Ray insinuates him to be a thief or questions him for bootlegging alcohol. He gets angry when someone tries to hurt Ray whilst his back is turned. Sand lives his life by an honourable and respectful philosophy, and the least he expects is for others to treat him the same way.
Therefore it's understandable that he hates being treated like a fool (whether that's being taken advantage of, humiliated or subjected to unwarranted judgement).
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Ray has consistently maintained that he doesn't see Sand as a boyfriend. Said so himself, repeatedly. (Despite his actions indicating otherwise but that's another post in itself). So if Sand were to reveal his feelings, when he has no definitive confirmation that Ray is taking any of this seriously, he's going to risk feeling incredibly exposed and ridiculous. One of the reasons why rejection is so painful is due to the shame that comes with it. A hit of crippling inadequacy and embarrassment. Being confronted with: 'You're not good enough for me. You don't meet my standards. You're not what I want'.
Sand has probably had to experience a fair amount of falling short. To be lesser than, but largely due to means outside his control. He's been able to rise above those things. However, with Ray, he's not comfortable being in a position where he may be stripped of his dignity.
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Boston being the one who dropped the bombshell is what made Sand feel incredibly stupid. For not knowing. For not being told. Which was arguably 100% times worse than hearing it from Ray himself. To be treated with respect is hoping someone will see you as an equal. Regardless of whether they are more than friends - even just between friends, Ray has never alluded to this. (To be fair, he may have been close, but now we'll never know). In that moment, it dawns on Sand how little he knows of Ray.
My belief is that if he were aware of Ray still being in love with Mew, he wouldn't make a move. Because that wouldn't be the honourable or respectful thing to do. So he’s been led to indulge in a fantasy that was never going to materialise. He wasn't in the loop. No one clued him in. He's not been treated equal. He feels like the butt of a bad joke. How could he possibly open up to Ray after that?
The 'Brave Face' of a Caretaker
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Sand is a man defined by responsibility. Due to having only one parent in his life, he's learnt to be his mother's rock; resilient and steadfast. The sacrifice of having a caretaker mentality is that your own wellbeing is often an afterthought. How frequently do these types of people in our lives get asked how they feel. How are they doing? They're so busy taking care of everyone else or taking care of 'business', that no one ever thinks to ask. Their cries for help are much quieter, much less obvious and go undetected.
Though Sand is not the best at hiding it, he'll quickly distract others from his own disappointment, upset and hurt for the sake of greater harmony or in consideration of someone else's feelings. 'It's not about me', he seems to remind himself. 'I've got to keep it together. I've got be strong. There's a lot resting on me'.
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Caretakers need others to take notice of them. To see past their seemingly infallible façade. They need others to initiate care and concern because they won’t put themselves first. Though Sand's mother evidently adores him, he’s clearly established a dynamic where he takes care of her. So who takes care of Sand? No one. He's on his own. He has no choice but to suck it up when things get tough and move forward as best he can. Life isn't going to stop for him.
Though hugely rattled, Sand immediately diffuses the fight. No questions, no demands that Ray explain himself. He’s still protective of Ray. No matter what happens, he comes second.
The Fault is Yours
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Sand really desires someone to see him as 'special', as extraordinary. His life often revolves around others, so if he’s someone else’s priority, that will be a sign. This is why Sand was so affected by Ray passing him up for someone else - he felt expendable.
The gut-wrenching thing about Sand is he doesn't target blame onto others. He doesn't resent his father (who has no idea of his existence). He doesn't resent his mother (who wasn't able to give him a good start in life). He doesn't even resent Ray when he finds out about Mew (because Ray knew Mew first). Instead Sand internalises hardship as a reflection on himself. The reason why Ray can't see him as a boyfriend must be a product of his own shortcomings. Perhaps he's unworthy of someone like Ray to begin with. Boston makes a passing comment that men with Ray's looks and wealth are hard to come by. Sand doesn't need to be reminded that Ray has options. Access to more options besides him.
Things were never handed to Sand on a silver platter, and so he isn't one to assume anything. Don't assume Ray's feelings even if you have a hunch. Don't assume that Ray will fight for you. Don't assume that when push comes to shove, Ray will choose you. Because who are you to assume those things?
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It's one thing to be told you can't have something. But it's another to feel like you don't deserve something. As if you never had the right. Never had a chance.
The fault is yours for thinking you did.
Because you're simply not that special.
(Note: So I'm going to need to see a situation where Ray takes care of Sand please. The boy needs it. He needs someone to fight for him for a change. Bear in mind this is just an analysis of what Sand may be feeling. A lot of these assumptions are untrue as Ray does care. But Sand doesn't know what to think anymore.)
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