#and that unless they're one of the 'good ones' it's impossible for someone to be on the spectrum but well spoken and have some smart areas

[discountsoysauce]

I don't understand the idea that Victor has no backstory. Like- yeah, his backstory isn't as horrifically tragic and detailed as Eli's is, but we do know a good bit about him from what he's said so far.

His parents are pretty successful, so we can assume he grew up rich. Victor states that they write all of these books about family but have never taken time out of their day for him, even saying something along the lines of the last time they put aside time for him was his birth (not exact quotes, I don't have the energy to look back through the books rn), so we can assume that they were incredibly neglectful, most likely leaving him at home for days, weeks, maybe months at a time and probably not paying much attention to him even in times when they were home. Whether they paid someone to take care of him in that time or he had to learn to be self-sufficient is debatable.

I personally don't think they were physically abusive, and there doesn't seem to be any evidence at present that supports that idea. Verbal abuse is more likely, but I still don't think it was the case. It doesn't seem like they were around him long enough to do either. I don't think those things really need to be a part of his backstory to make it interesting or compelling. His parents were neglectful, and it shaped pretty much everything about who he is.

The biggest and most obvious one is Victor's obsession with attention. There are multiple references throughout the books of Victor craving attention from those around him, namely Angie and Eli. More than anything, Victor wants to be seen. He wants to be a part of something. He wants to be remembered and acknowledged and thought about. He craves the attention his parents never gave him. He doesn't want to be left behind or forgotten.

Being left behind is another big fear for him (I'm mostly speaking about Lockland here, as he becomes a bit less dependent after he becomes an EO, though there can still be an argument made about him latching onto Mitch and Sydney and Dol and Dominic in a kind of makeshift family he never had). He hates seeing Eli succeed because it feels like he's being left behind. He wants to be so intertwined with another person that they can't possibly forget him. He wants to form a connection so deep that it's impossible to sever. To Victor, there's a connection between 'success' and being left behind. He doesn't want to just be an expendable sidekick or an accessory. He wants to be an integral part of someone. Victor's life revolving around Eli is a symptom of his upbringing.

His social skills and general demeanor are also something that can be analyzed. From the beginning, he's set up as the antithesis to Eli, from social class to backstory to appearance to demeanor. They're the same at their core, but opposites in nearly everything else. Compared to Eli, Victor is a total recluse. He hates being around people, he avoids parties, and we barely see him interact with or pay attention to anyone except the people he genuinely cares about unless he absolutely needs to. His demeanor is off-putting, and he doesn't really make an effort to hide that, although he does just enough to make sure he isn't a complete social outcast. Victor grew up in one home with no siblings and parents who were hardly around. Compared to Eli, who was carted from home to home, meeting new people and learning how to blend in all the time, Victor likely doesn't have much in the way of social experience. He didn't have to hide who he was nearly as much as Eli did because there was no one there to see it anyway.

This being said, he is described as being a good liar and able to fool those around him, although notably worse at it than Eli. This one is more of a longshot, but I don't think it's improbable. Victor's parents were successful published authors who garnered their success based on the books they wrote about family. It's possible that Victor had to make press appearances at some point when he was younger, and learned how to lie for the cameras, or he just spent so long out of the company of others that he started seeing other people as more objects to use and less real living people, making it easier to learn the motions of manipulating them. Either way, Victor learns how to do or say the right thing to get someone to believe him, but he states that Eli is much better at actually faking emotions than he is. This is because while Eli spent his life following his father's death surrounded by people and thus learned how to change his entire self to appear more presentable to the general public, Victor only learned how to manipulate people through speech or actions. He can tell you exactly what you want to hear, but he can't put on a fake persona the way Eli can because he never needed to.

In conclusion, Victor does have a backstory, and it informs every aspect of his character, including his relationship to Eli.

#this isnt me defending victor this post got away from me a bit lmao #a not entirely serious mention of the idea that his skewed morality could also be a result of his upbringing #i mean #the man had no role models #and was pretty much raised on crime dramas #cmon #hopping off my soapbox now #i got tired near the end can you tell #Victor's backstory isnt explicitly outlines the way Eli's is but its There #i came up with most of this as i was typing #vicious ve schwab #vengeful ve schwab #victor vale #villains series #eli ever #eli cardale #vicious #vengeful

[angelltheninth]

Avatar boys/men and how they purr? I love your headcanons that they purr.

They should purr a lot. I demand it. I manifest it.

Pairing: Jake Sully, Neteyam, Lo'ak, Tsu'tey, Miles Quaritch, Aonung, Tonowari x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, size difference, purring, cuddling, tail shenanigans, sneaking around, kissing

A/N: Love all of them so much, let me hear them purring please Cameron.

JAKE SULLY

Jake felt odd purring when he first got his Avatar. It was a sound he was never supposed to make before and now he made it whenever you did something to him that he really liked or appreciated. There's normally really quiet purrs, but when he starts he's like a cat, purring even after you stop touching him, signaling he would like more of what you were doing.

NETEYAM

He isn't afraid to show his liking of you when you cuddle up and lay your head on his chest, with your arms wrapped around him and just sharing the events of the day. He knows how much you love hearing him purr, sometimes even falling asleep to the sound and feeling of his chest rumbling. So there's no reason for him to try and suppress it at all.

LO'AK

Only purrs when it's the two of you alone. And man when he does he is loud. He's almost embarrassed by it but he can hardly help himself. You kissing him, pulling him close by wrapping your arms around him and scratching at the base of his ponytail has him sounding like an engine. Not only that but it gets his tail to wrap around your leg, keeping you against him, secretly not wanting the moment to end.

TSU'TEY

While thought to be the type that doesn't purr at all, much more known for his growls and hisses of warning, he does, on rare occasion purr. They're very short and very low mind you, almost impossible to hear unless you're right next to him, which lucky for you, you are. He lets his guard down the most when you praise him, then you can expect an occasional purr that will turn into a growl as he tries to mask it.

QUARITCH

He'd do just about anything other then allow himself to purr in your presence. He can't let you know he's got a weak spot for you, he knows you'd tease him for it. And tease him you do. From the moment you first heard that deep, rumbly sound as you lay against him in bed you had to figure out new ways to get him to produce is again. Good luck is what he said to you and it's been your mission ever since.

AONUNG

There was no woman who ever got Aonung to purr until you came along. And many tied, he was popular after all. Maybe there was a part of him hoping for you to be the first one to hear it, the first one he could let his guard down around in that way. Even when you're at the bottom of the ocean you can feel him purring hard as he holds you close against him, waiting for you to do the same.

TONOWARI

As much as he is proud and sometimes harsh he does show his softer side to you. Not just when you're alone either. He knows that he's someone others look up to, he wants to show them what true love looks like. What better way then letting them know how comfortable he is around you, his chest rumbling, tail swishing and tapping behind him whenever you kiss him or wrap your hands around his arm while you walk or swim.

#avatar x reader #avatar x you #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #lo'ak x reader #tsu'tey x reader #miles quaritch x reader #aonung x reader #tonowari x reader #avatar the way of water #the way of water #jake sully fluff #neteyam fluff #lo'ak fluff #tsu'tey fluff #miles quaritch fluff #aonung fluff #tonowari fluff #x reader

[yesimwriting]

but i think deep (or maybe not so deep) down,, felix thinks he's going to end up with reader,, like they're meant to settle down together one day

This made me imagine a scenario where bestfriend!Felix is cuddling with reader and they have a conversation that goes something like this

Felix: what would you name our children?

Reader: ??Children??! We haven't even kissed though??

It's funny to think that Felix is imagining his entire future with reader and reader is over here still clueless and thinking they're just really close friends 😭

omg he for sure would bring this up himself and then immediately gets flustered if reader entertained the thought,, he's so neat 🩷

----

The morning, or, more accurately, the early afternoon is slipping away. It's almost impossible to feel the passage of time while tangled in Felix's sheets, but you're sure it's too late in the day to still be in bed like this.

You and Felix have been quiet, like you always are when you first wake up after a long night out, too groggy and hungover to do much more than be next to each other. Conversation usually leads to the end of the morning's peacefulness anyway, with one of you mentioning something about breakfast or class or other weekend plans.

You're glad to lay here as long as possible, taking your time memorizing the feel of Felix's skin beneath your fingertips. But you and Felix have been awake for awhile now, and you do still have that homework that Felix convinced you could wait until later.

"Okay," you mumble, voice raspy with sleep, "It's been awhile." You smooth your knuckles against his bare shoulder. "We should get up."

He groans, shifting off of his side and onto his back. "Few more minutes." You're about to protest when he stretches out an arm, searching blindly until his palm finds your back. You sigh at the suggestion, but still move to rest your cheek against his chest. "It's Saturday."

Warmth begins to burn its way up your chest. Despite how comfortable you are with Felix, you're still never sure how to act when he decides to go to bed shirtless. "And I have an essay for Redman's class."

He trails his fingers down your back. "That's not due until the end of the week."

You lift your head, chin pressing into his side so you can properly glare. "How do you know that?"

He smiles, the look much too pleased for something so small. "Had lunch with Ollie yesterday."

Right. You should have guessed the answer. Oliver's the only person in that class that you know, which is kind of nice in its own way. You always have someone to sit and do group work with, and if you ever have to be absent you know Oliver takes good note. However, it also means that there's someone to let Felix know your deadlines. Which is usually okay, unless you're in the mood to work ahead and Felix is in the mood for anything else.

"He is such a homework snitch."

Felix laughs, "Homework snitch?"

"You know what I mean."

"'Y'mean," he starts, his thumb brushing past your shirt's collar, "You're sick of me and looking for an excuse to leave."

You roll your eyes, dipping your head forward and pressing a quick kiss against his side. "Exactly." Felix attempts to glare, but with the way his nose scrunches slightly at the unexpected contact, it falls flat. "You know I'm never tired of you."

"Really?" You nod, more focused on the realization that Felix might be ticklish than his probing tone. "Never?"

You nod again, the motion absentminded, "Never." Carefully, you lift your head a little more, propping it up on one arm. "Lex, are you ticklish?"

"No."

Too immediate, too firm.

You're quick, hand moving off a pillow, fingers aiming for his side. Felix is faster, his arm shifting forward in an attempt to stop you. You move your arm back, fingers brushing against his lower side. Felix laughs, the sound nervous. You grin, satisfied.

The brief moment you take to feel your feel victory is your downfall. Felix's hand presses against your wrist, pinning your hand flat against his stomach. "Lovie," he tries, still recovering from his laughing fit, "Play nice."

You look up at him, expression pure innocence, "I always play nice."

"Mhm."

His doubt is offensive. You pout. "I do." You attempt to straighten, Felix's hold on your hand tightens. "I'm going to lay down." He eyes you skeptically. "As a sign of goodwill. Promise."

He loosens his grip before turning your palm over. You intertwine your fingers, squeezing his hand as you lay your head down. "Any plans for today?"

"No." Felix smooths circles against your back. "Just you."

You're glad that your head's turned away from him so that you don't have to mask your grin. "Good."

"Good?"

You drag your thumb against his knuckles. "You know I'm prone to fits of jealousy."

Felix laughs so gently you feel the movement of his chest more than you hear it. "Sounds like you."

Even though there isn't anything hilarious about your joke and Felix has done a lot more to go along with your bits, you laugh too.

Comfortable silence is just beginning to blanket the two of you again when Felix speaks again, "Lovie?" You hum in acknowledgement. "Do you--" He cuts himself off. "Do you want to get married?"

Now you're really glad that your face is turned away from him. "I--I'm going to need a better proposal before answering."

His hand briefly stalls against the fabric of your T-shirt. "No," he huffs the word in a way that's almost a laugh. "I didn't--I mean--I meant generally. At some point."

Oh. A serious question that's a lot less fun than when you could pretend he was proposing. "Oh--uh, I don't know. I mean, it didn't exactly work out for my mom, but some people seem to--" You let out a breath in an attempt to give yourself some time to think through your response. It's not like you've never thought about marriage, but it's not something you have a concrete answer on. "I think so, maybe."

Your own flakiness feels like a cop out response. You swallow before trying again, "If I can find someone I trust, like really trust." Squeezing Felix's hand for assurance, you give yourself another moment to contemplate. "And also, I'd have to be sure that they're the kind of person I can be around forever without feeling drained."

Finally feeling okay with your response, you're ready to move on by asking Felix about his own thoughts on marriage. Before you can turn the conversation, Felix says, "Like the way you trust me?"

Your face burns. "Yeah," you mumble, too distracted by your sudden shyness to even think to joke about it, "Something like that." You're still more flustered than you want to be. "I also said I'd have to not get tired of them, so..."

Felix scoffs, "Oh, don't start." He lifts the hand he's holding, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm. "We'd be happy."

You're quiet because there's nothing you can say. Felix is only teasing, but the more you think about marrying him, the more real the joke feels. Even though he's only your best friend and there's nothing romantic about your relationship, you would be happy with him. How could you not? He's considerate, always putting your feelings first, and you could get used to a lifetime of waking up by his side.

"Do you have any name preferences?"

You lift your head enough to look at him. "What?"

Felix's gaze briefly meets yours before dropping his attention back to your intertwined hands. "Baby names."

Your lips part in surprise, and for a long second, all you can do is blink at him. "Are you still drunk?"

He shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm making conversation."

Okay, a little weird, but if Felix is being so casual about it, maybe you're overthinking it. "Okay," you mumble skeptically, "You probably come with a ton of family, traditional names." His thumb brushes down the back of your hand. "I like the name Lux," you finally manage, "For a girl."

"Lux," he repeats, more to himself than you.

You let yourself openly watch him. "I guess it depends on how many kids we have."

Felix turns his head slightly, teeth grazing against his bottom lip. "Two or three." His eyes focus on the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand. "I mean, I like the idea of two or three."

"Two or three?" You haven't given much thought to the number of children you want. You grew up an only child, mainly around your mother, and that was a little lonely despite her best efforts. You like the general idea of siblings, but with that comes multiple pregnancies and labor. "That's a long time to be pregnant."

He squeezes your shoulder, the gesture comforting. "We don't have to have them right away."

You lay your head down again, temple resting against his side. It's not a terrible thing to imagine, not in the slightest. Felix with a baby in his arms and a toddler or two hanging off his leg. Children with different combinations of your features--a little boy with your hair and his kind eyes, a baby girl with his charming smile and your nose.

Okay--that's enough of that train of thought. The last thing you need is to actually start wanting your best friend to propose. "Considering how far we are from married, I'd hope not."

"Wow," he breathes, dragging the word out. You turn your head, doing your best to look up at him. "I see."

"See what?"

His hand trails down your back warmly. "We're too young for me to propose."

Embarrassment has you attempting to pull away so that you can defend yourself. Felix doesn't let you get too far, his hand on your back making it hard to do much more than hold up your head. "No, I didn't--"

"We're still in school, Lovie. It'd be irresponsible."

The amusement coloring his expression has you glowering. He is so impossible. "Your tone is irresponsible."

"Moody." You're about to protest when he pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "Want to go to breakfast?"

You rest your chin near his stomach. "Is it early enough for breakfast?"

He turns his head, neck stretching at an awkward angle to look at his bedside clock. "If we go to the place down the road with the all day breakfast menu."

You smile, "Cool." You wipe at your eyes with the back of your palm. "You realize to go we have to get up, get ready..."

"Hm," he hums, pretending to contemplate, "Give me five minutes?"

You are starting to feel hungry, but everything's so much warmer this close to Felix. You're comfortable, and it's not like there's a time constraint on breakfast. "Okay, five minutes."

Felix grins, pulling your hand towards him again. He brushes his lips against the back of your palm. "That's my girl."

You roll your eyes in an attempt to hide any obvious signs of total contentment before laying your head down again.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

#bestfriend!felix x reader #bestfriend!felix #saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #felix x reader #felix catton #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

[anachronistic-falsehood]

Vash and Femininity: Trigun Stampede and its Themes of Bodily Autonomy, Exploitation, and Vague Gender Fuckery

alright sit the fuck down. we're gonna talk about THEMES

I was on Twitter- terrible idea usually, but a couple people I follow made some tweets that got me thinking about Trigun's overall themes, and here we are. So let's talk about some themes in Tristamp! And I'll take a couple looks at Trimax as well, just for fun :3

Let's look at how the showrunners utilize gender roles and exploitation of feminine characters to show how unhealthy Knives' obsession with his ideal of Vash is, and how horrific his exploitation of Vash and the Plants is.

Vash, from the beginning of Tristamp, is someone who cares about people's choices. When people kill others in front of him, he reiterates that whether someone lives or dies is not another person's choice to make. This is something he learned from Rem (a prominent female figure in his life). He refuses to kill people because that is not his choice to make. To kill someone is the ultimate removal of their bodily autonomy. They can no longer make any choices at all; they're dead.

Vash is also someone who has almost no choice in what path his life takes. He's constantly dragged around by outside forces, namely situations that are caused by Knives (which we'll get into later). Vash doesn't make things happen, things happen to Vash. The majority of events that occur are not his fault. He's pushed and pulled in a thousand different directions. His entire life is completely out of his control.

This can be seen as early on in his life as the Fall, something he had no control over and had no idea he even had a part in. Even later, in the ship with Luida and Brad, after he's been rescued from the desert, he's kept in handcuffs right up until he's shown to be of use to them and the Plant on their ship. After that, he could theoretically say "no, I don't want to go to other ships and heal their plants," but he doesn't. He's Vash. He's helpful and nurturing at his core, and these people have done so much for him just by letting him stay, so he'll do whatever they ask, no question.

This carries over into his adulthood. At Jeneora Rock, he goes to look at their Plant at one simple request, doesn't protest when he's dragged into a duel-- he doesn't take initiative unless someone's life is immediately at stake. He lets people tell him what to do and lets himself get dragged around by the wrist. He doesn't even pretend to have control over his life like Trimax Vash does, which I mean. Fair. Why pretend to have a grip on your existence when it's impossible to do anything without a gun pointed at your head?

Vash is a very passive character. He's nurturing, kind, gentle- he's a guy that fits a lot of very typical feminine character stereotypes. If you wrote this same story but made him a woman, I wouldn't bat an eye (but I would definitely be looking at it a lot more critically, what with the amount of stereotypically nurturing/motherly female characters in media already.)

This contrasts directly with Knives. He makes a decision and carries through no matter what stands in his way. He takes initiative. If Vash is a passive character, Knives is an active character. Wherever he goes, he leaves a lasting imprint. He makes shit happen! If outside forces make things happen to him, he'll go out of his way to make sure that particular force doesn't affect him again.

These two tweets I saw are what got me thinking about this originally. I just feel like here's a good place to put them as a segue into talking about episode 11.

Episode 11 is where a lot of this feminine imagery really just. Explodes in your face. IT'S RIGHT THERE. You can't dance around it if you try. And it kind of reaches a peak when the connection reaches 100%, the gate opens, and. well. THIS happens to the Plants.

Plants, in both Trimax and Tristamp, are almost always typically feminine-looking. Knives and Vash are the only two who are male or even masculine at all. Knives, as the most masculine out of all of them, is the one trying to take charge, and mould the world as he sees fit, to a degree that is detrimental to both him and everyone else. And Vash-- passive, feminine, kind and nurturing, whose Angel Arm in the manga always sprouts decidedly feminine-looking Plant parts-- is the one being exploited for Knives' plans. It's no mistake that they made the giant plant formation at the end of ep 11 look like a giant woman that almost resembles Rem.

Vash wants people to make their own choices and keep their autonomy when it comes to their bodies and lives. Knives is the exact opposite. He wants all Plants to become independent and he uses Vash to achieve that goal, without asking what Vash wants or even knowing what the Plants themselves would prefer. He exploits Vash for the soul purpose of trying to make these Plants have Independent Plant babies. He's completely incapable of seeing that his choices are not for the greater good! He thinks he's saving them, but none of his actions are for the good of anyone but himself. He’s just violating them for his own gain.

They're really leaning into gender roles for these guys, but in a way that screams "HEY, LOOK AT THIS! ISN'T IT FUCKED UP? LOOK AT HOW FUCKED UP THAT IS. LOOK AT THIS, AND BE UNCOMFORTABLE, AND KNOW THAT IT IS FUCKED UP."

Because it is! It's so extremely fucked up. They're using this imagery and these roles, something that makes most of us intrinsically uncomfortable, to drive home how unhealthy Knives relationship with his ideal of Vash is. That's the point. We're supposed to be uncomfortable with this.

Now of course there's some nuance to it. Like, you could see Knives as somewhat of a feminine and/or queer-coded figure as well, ESPECIALLY if you look at some of his panels in the manga, which could in turn lead to themes about infighting and control within marginalized communities, but that might be something for another post. :3

And there's definitely different ways you could take this! Vash, with all this feminine imagery, could be either transfem or transmasc coded, depending on what way you'd rather see it, which could lead into themes of how people outside the norm constantly face a lack of bodily autonomy and are exploited for purposes outside their boundaries. We could also look at Wolfwood and his lack of choice over joining the Eye of Michael and becoming the Punisher, and how masculine men (particularly men of colour) are often forced into violent roles against their will. If we look at Trimax, the exact same could be said for Livio/Razlo and people with disorders such as DID/OSDD.

There are many different ways you could spin these themes, some of which I don't feel personally qualified to discuss. If anyone who is qualified to talk about Wolfwood or Livio/Razlo or even other characters related to these themes, then god PLEASE add onto this post or make a post and tag me or something. I would love to read it!

Anyway, in conclusion: Vash is a feminine figure constantly taken advantage of and exploited and and he's so incredibly trans/nonbinary-coded that it drives me insane. Thank you

#whiskeys word soup #trigun #trigun stampede #HI. HELLO. THIS DRIVES ME INSANE PLEASE READ THIS #and seriously if anyone wants to make a post about wolfwood or livio/razlo or any other character exploring these themes of bodily autonomy #on GOD. lemme know i wanna read it #well aware that some of this is probably me digging too deep for things that aren’t there but still!!! fun to look at #what is media analysis other than putting on ur queer glasses and picking out trans allegories within stories #it’s been a while since I’ve made a full analysis essay kinda post!! this is how i normally format them bc it’s easier for me to read

[antianakin]

I watched Dune: Part Two over the weekend, and I came to realize something: Anakin Skywalker has a lot in common with Paul Atreides, and none of them are good.

Funnily enough, I was also making comparisons between Dune and Star Wars when I saw it this weekend, but more positively. Not necessarily specifically between Paul and Anakin, but in the ways the two stories subverted the Chosen One storyline.

In Star Wars, Anakin is the Chosen One and it IS a good thing, but it's not INEVITABLE unless Anakin chooses it. He HAS to make the choice to be a good, balanced, selfless person in order to achieve the perfect prophecized ending. It is impossible to achieve it through brute force of will or selfish agendas.

In Dune (based purely on the story in the films, I have not read the books so I cannot speak to what the story was in there if it's different), Paul is the Chosen One by design of other mortal people around him, he is the Chosen One because they CREATED a Chosen One through specific breeding and manipulation of cultures and religions. They literally achieve their prophecized ending through brute force, Paul becomes a messiah by forcing himself to ride a sand worm, by killing and defeating the opposing forces on the planet, by using Fremen as weapons in a holy war, by drinking poison and coming out of it alive. The subversion here isn't in how the prophecized ending is achieved, but in how it was CREATED and the fact that achieving it is a BAD THING.

Anakin chooses to DEFY his destiny out of selfishness while Paul chooses to GIVE IN to his destiny out of selflessness, and then they both end up villains as a result. Both of them made their own choices, but were also manipulated onto this path by forces they couldn't control and people they should've been able to trust. They're both left feeling like they're out of choices and so the only one left is the one they KNOW is bad.

But I find myself somewhat more able to sympathize with Paul because he tries SO HARD throughout the entire film to keep this from happening, he knows exactly what's going to happen if it does, and in the end, he's just outplayed basically. He'll never be a match for the greater forces at play until he becomes one of them, and at that point he's lost in every way that matters. It's a completely lose-lose situation for Paul the way I saw it. Even with the visions, Paul has had multiple visions come true before he has the one about the holy war, and has a lot more reason to believe that it's true due to Jessica's training. And it felt like when he drank that poison that some part of Paul almost literally did die, that someone else came back to life in some ways and that's part of the whole tragedy. He's almost possessed by the powers around him by the time he declares himself Emperor.

The same is DEMONSTRABLY not true for Anakin. Anakin walks into the darkness with his eyes open and his head held high because he believes HE ALONE will benefit from it. There's no selflessness in this choice in any way shape or form. He has had ONE VISION come true that we know of before he gets the dream about Padme and the Jedi notoriously do not believe visions to be all that trustworthy to begin with, so all of his training tells him that just because ONE vision came true still doesn't mean that THIS one is true and even if it were, he can't trust that any action he takes to keep it from happening will actually have that result. But he's selfish and greedy enough to try anyway, to discard everything he's ever been taught, for power. He convinces himself that doing this makes him a hero, that murdering the Jedi, down to the last child, makes him a hero. There's no evidence that doing what he's doing will save Padme, or that Padme would even WANT him to do this to save her. He's not truly outplayed, he had all the tools at his disposal to make the better choice in that moment in Palpatine's office, he's just not a good enough person to make it. He IS a match for the greater forces at play in terms of power, he and Mace could've EASILY killed Palpatine together if only Anakin had chosen the better path. He just... chooses not to because it doesn't benefit him to do so. Anakin could've won, in every way that mattered. He only loses because he makes the stupidest choice imaginable.

Dune is a political sci fi epic about how people in power will literally create messiahs for the people they intend to subject as a way to consolidate their own power.

Star Wars is a children's cautionary tale wrapped in an space opera adventure about how letting your fears control you will bring about your own destruction, and only kindness and selflessness will save the world.

It's not exactly a secret that Lucas was inspired by Dune when coming up with Star Wars, so I find it really interesting to look at the similarities and differences in how they each approached their Chosen One storylines.

#star wars #dune #dune part two #anakin critical #anakin skywalker critical #paul atreides #dune spoilers #dune part two spoilers

[gotham-daydreams]

How would the yan batfam celebrate reader's birthday after they got them back?

Well, it can go a few ways, but I'll try to keep it short and simple for now!

First, the family will 100% fight over if they should throw a party now or actually wait until your birthday, because they definitely don't want to try and make up for all the one's they've missed, along with some other occasions that they absolutely want to celebrate with you.

It's a real mess, but what could one really expect from such a dysfunctional family? Though no matter what they settle on, it really depends on how long you've been with them.

If you've just 'gotten back' then it's probably something small, as they don't want to overwhelm you and want this to be another piece that eases you into your new way or life. Yet it definitely seems like some didn't get the memo as you are overflowed with gifts. You don't understand how they picked half of this stuff out, let alone why they bought it for you, but that's probably because they're guilt got to them and suddenly they had five times the amount of gifts they were originally going to get you. If the amount of gifts in the room pisses you off or you generally have a negative reaction to it, no one will let you go into the hall for a good portion of that day.

Besides that, you get some breakfast in bed, and maybe even lunch too if you didn't like the gifts- but expect a family dinner at the end of the day. They'll find ways to spend time with you, and most of the activities are either games that require multiple people, or the others will just... watch. Which may not have been so bad if you were in this particular situation.

Overall, while it is a little toned down they do still find ways to 'sneak' themselves into your birthday, and try to have fun all throughout the day. Though if you want to keep things more lowkey, then that's fine! But you'll still have to deal with them hanging around. You won't get a single moment to yourself.

If you've been 'staying' for a while, then they go all out and have the biggest celebration they can without any outside eyes peeking in. It may not be necessarily loud or anything but it's... a lot.

The moment you wake up (to which, you're most likely woken up by someone), your dragged out of bed and just about everyone is up and about like it's Christmas (and maybe it is, but I digress). Every meal of the day feels like some kind of feast, and they aren't trying to even hide the amount of gifts they've gotten you, which somehow all pertain to your interests one way or another. If anyone gets the same thing then you get to see a bit of a fight- so at least there's that, but unfortunately it's unlikely to last very long as everyone wants today to be a good day for you (and a great day for them).

Every activity/game is a family activity or deals with multiple players. They all take turns if there isn't enough for all of them to play with you all at once, but they work around it one way or another. If you want things to tone down, then you're either stuck watching a movie with everyone, or in a cuddle pile with most of the Batkids. If you couldn't get rid of them before- you absolutely cannot now. They make it near impossible to do so.

If you'd like to keep up your tradition with Alfred and bake with him, then you're more than welcome to!

If you 'just arrived' then you may be able to bake with Alfred in peace, minus the new observers that are a little too keen on watching you, and all too eager to taste test what you and Alfred end up making.

If you've been there for a while, then the family will try to turn the tradition from just you and Alfred, to you and the whole family. Even if it means turning the whole things into a game of some kind, or using other methods to get you to bake with them, they'll find a way to change it eventually... unless Alfred gets in the way of things. Though sometimes he may get sick and can't help you with the rest of the Batfam :[[

All in all, it's a mess! Who could've guessed? Ah, but really, it goes just about as well as you'd think. Very overwhelming and them justing to shove and further include themselves into your life by using your birthday to enhance that force. If you've just arrived, the force is lighter, and if not? It's heavier. Much, much heaver.

#talking daydreams #yandere batfam #platonic yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #gn reader

[ms-demeanor]

So I love your computer information and advice - but I have never used a password manager because I’ve always figured it’s just putting all my most sensitive information out there to be stolen when someone gets into the password manager. What am I missing here?

The primary thing is that, in the normal course of time and space, given the limitations of computing technology, if you are using a decent password manager, nobody should be able to get into your password manager.

Good password managers (I recommend Bitwarden) are essentially impossible to access through cracking the encryption. It just won't happen. It's not going to happen.

In a decent password manager, your data also will not be available to the company that made the product. They can't get it. They don't have access, and anyone who breaks into their systems doesn't have access.

So there is one way that someone could get into your (decent) password manager: if they know your password.

That's why it's important to create one complex, memorable, unique password for your password manager that you do not share with anyone except in the most dire circumstances with someone you are 100% certain that you can trust (I've used the example in the past of my spouse giving me the password to his password manager when he was being prepped for an emergency bypass surgery - outside of situations like that, my spouse and I don't share passwords with each other).

Now, let's look at the flipside: if you do not use a decent password manager (which will generate nonsense random passwords for you on demand), you are probably creating passwords that are comparatively very easy to crack either through dictionary attacks or effortless to crack with credential stuffing.

Part of the problem here is that our data and security landscape is garbage. You have almost certainly had personal information leaked in a data breach that you had no say in participating in. You have almost certainly had your email address and multiple passwords exposed in breaches over the years. You have almost certainly used the same answers repeatedly for security questions, and there are only so many sites that will allow you to update those questions and answers, and those answers have almost certainly been exposed in previous breaches.

And the thing is, people are predictable. People reuse passwords, which makes credential stuffing extremely easy, because someone just has to find a leak from 2009 to identify your email address and then see if you used your 2009 password on any other accounts that you also registered with that email address. If your email address shows up in multiple leaks, they can compare the kinds of passwords that you used with different accounts.

Did you use the "unique password" hack that so many people do of "[site abbreviation][basic password][birthyear][punctuation]"? FBpassword95! TWTpassword95! TMBLRpassword95! - that's really, really common because passwords are hard to remember and people behave in predictable ways when they're trying to save themselves some labor.

Perhaps you are an XKCD reader and learned the CorrectHorseBatteryStaple trick, but unless you read the follow-up studies after the fact you might not know that those passwords are actually pretty crackable unless you're using words that are more like IndubitablyNematodeErlenmeyerRisome. And if you're using a unique combination of uncommon words it's going to get pretty hard to remember a hundred of them. And you'll start repeating. And then it's back to credential stuffing instead of dictionary attacks.

The point is that you are substantially more at risk of having your accounts accessed if you are repeating or using non-random passwords than you are if you are using a password manager. Some people do actually sit down with dice to roll up random passwords and write them in a book, but the vast majority of people are relying on their predictable human brains to come up with "complex" passwords and we are just not good at that.

Password managers also make it a lot easier to change things after a breach, and they make it a lot easier to generate and store random gibberish for your security questions (which you should be doing; at this point security questions are a liability, not an account recovery tool).

Using a password manager would make most people's passwords significantly more secure AND more accessible than something like writing randomized numbers and characters in a book (because a good password should not only be difficult to remember, it should be unnatural for you to type because there shouldn't be any words in it and it should require a lot of use of the shift key). A properly used password manager can also help to protect you from phishing sites by recognizing the correct site and not allowing an option to fill on a phishing site (which is why using a password manager with a browser plugin or an app can be a better option than one that is stored on your desktop and needs the password copy/pasted instead of filling the field for you).

So yes, if someone gets access to your password, they can get access to your password manager and you now have one point of failure instead of hundreds of accounts. However, because of the way that human brains work and because of how balls-to-the-walls uncrackable a good encrypted password vault is, you are likely to be more secure with that single point of failure than you are using the kinds of passwords that most people make up (we are really, really, really not good at making up nonsense passwords; go look at the top thousand passwords and think about how many of them you've used as a PART of any of your passwords. Most languages have a very small number of words that people use on a regular basis and it isn't that hard to get a computer to scan for a few thousand words if it has unlimited attempts to get into your account - mix that in with the fact that there are SO, SO many breaches out there and it is frighteningly easy to get into a lot of accounts).

However, you can then also make your password manager even MORE secure by setting up 2FA to access it. At which point the only way someone is getting into your password manager is if they know your password and have access to your 2FA account.

Generally I find that what most people are worried about isn't that their horrible ex or an abusive parent will get into their password manager, they're a lot more worried that the contents of their password vault will be exposed in a breach. And that is just not going to happen if you're using a securely encrypted password manager (like bitwarden).

[atxxzist]

the crown prince | c.s

summary: with the fall of the king, the kingdom of utopia rest on prince san's hand. but when bounties are put on his head as the consequence of his ancestors' actions, he realize there's a backlog of history to undo and a lot more to prove that he's deserving of being the rightful ruler

pairing: choi san x f!reader

genre: prince!san, commoner!y/n, medieval au, angst, fluff, suggestive

word count: 19k

(ao3) if you don't like lapslock

age 8:

you live in the fifth district, the poorest and most rundown of all districts, sitting at the bottom of the kingdom with a large body of water surrounding it.

the only remarkable thing about the place is the port that's often used for traveling in and out of the kingdom. other than that, rarely anyone from other districts would come down unless they want to be at risk of a flood--which always striked the district the hardest out of any others.

but even then, despite the limited portions of food your family has to survive on each day, or the hardrock wood mattress you guys have to sleep on that frequently gives your aging father back pain, life doesn't seem all that bad.

you still have your family and a roof over your head, and a mind too young and optimistic.

age 10:

just two years after, you soon find out how hard it really is for a kid living in the fifth district, and especially one without parents or someone to love and care for them.

the fishermen had said your parents fell overboard and their bodies couldn't be recovered.

you couldn't believe it at first that no one looked even the least concerned or urgent to search for your parents, but you soon learn that their lives are meaningless, and the people that threw you out after their death made sure you knew so is yours.

"ay, kid, we could leave you out here to die if we really want to," one of the tall, scary looking man says after your episode of protesting and crying starts to annoy him.

and easily like that, they both leave you in the orphanage that's already overcrowded with other children of similar circumstances.

you lose everything in one day; the house your father built from scratch, along with anything that's ever been handmade by your mother, it's all gone. they're both gone, and you feel yourself withering away with all the loss.

before the age of eleven, you become nothing more than a ward of the district and the responsibility to a bunch of strangers who probably doesn't care whether you live or die.

age 11:

it only takes a year for you to become almost nothing like the person you were once before who was cheerful and optimistic.

all of it beat out of you, watching every day as some of the children gets yelled at or punished for doing something so trivial, it desensitized you to the point you're no longer surprise to hear someone get told no one else would want them outside of the orphanage.

you don't talk to anyone or attempt to make any friends. you keep to yourself and would often read any books you could find or hunt for any sewing materials during the few time of the day they let you guys out.

age 12:

during dinner, you hear the group of kids sitting at the nearby table talk about the upcoming coronation of the prince.

"it's not even like we're gonna get to see it," one of the girls squeak, seemingly uninterested in the topic as she pokes her food because it's true.

events like that, especially any celebrations or gatherings are only reserved for those in the second and first districts, who are usually of noble and royal status. not nobodies like you guys down here living off of scraps and remnants.

"i want to see how the prince looks like," another boy adds with a mischievous tone.

you, too, want to see what the prince looks like, but you most likely never will. he won't come here and the chances of you going up there is damn near impossible, it might as well be good as a dream.

but all of the children agrees that he's the luckiest kid in the kingdom, and for that, they hate him for it.

age 13:

through the years, you've been watching as kids go and new ones would come in.

those that left were lucky to have gotten moved or adopted into a household that were willing to take them in, and you, like all the other kids in here, tired of the overcrowding and deteriorating state of the orphanage, hope that a kind family will one day swoop you away.

but it doesn't happen at age thirteen, and you continue to share a bunk with the same girl from three years ago who's been here longer than you.

age 14:

the states of the lower districts only seems to decline as you get older with the corrupted hierarchy and the rich taking all the resources for themselves.

for hundreds of years--you've learned, that it's always been bad, but everything's looking far worse than it has even four years ago.

but with the conditions in the lower three districts deteriorating, the citizens are growing more vocal, bitter, and resentful of those that resides in peace while everyone else is suffering.

the disparity not only made everyone despite the higher ups, but also each other as the stresses of the poor states get to them. and with you living in one of the three's, it made you harbor a hatred toward the top two districts as well, unable to see them past anything but greedy and power-hungry.

slanders of the royal family increased then. talks of overthrowing the king or starting a war for equal resources for all districts, and some even saying they'd rather swim across the ocean to reach kingdom aurora than to live in this "hellhole". but at the time, they were nothing but empty threats to make one feel better.

age 15:

you were so scared at first, hearing of all the horror stories told by the older, taunting kids who's gonna get moved into a family soon, that you're gonna be unlucky for the rest of your life and not get chosen like them.

that you're just gonna stay here until some lowly men decides to buy you off, or probably meet a worse fate.

but one sudden day when the director of the orphanage comes running into the dining hall and announces to all the kids to be on their best behaviors because someone from the second district is going to be coming down the next day, your life changes for the better at the age of fifteen.

you didn't think you had a chance at all, but you still wanted to try because no matter the intense dislike you hold for the two higher districts, if there's an opportunity for a better life, you're going to take it.

it's better than staying here and suffering. everyone else is becoming desperate and you're not any different.

the lady comes the following day as expected, her carriage alerting the entire place of her arrival as all the kids are on their knees with desperation in their eyes.

you guys have never had any visitors from a district so high up before, so this is very crucial.

when she walks in, everyone bows to welcome her, the sight as equally mesmerizing to others as it is to you. never in your life have you seen anyone with so many pearls and jewels, the gown she's wearing made of only the best materials.

it then hits you harder that however this lady decides to take you in, you're going to be living a comfortable life no matter what.

she takes one look around the room, all the children secretly crossing their fingers and it's when her eyes land on you and her lips turn up into a smile.

the director tells her you're a good kid. often guarded and doesn't really get along with the others, but well behaved nonetheless.

it feels weird to be the one everyone's envious of when you were usually on the opposite spectrum, but now passing all the kids as you make way to the front door, all their burning gazes planting a seed of guilt because you understand the feeling all too well.

but with the nation in this state, all anyone can do is look out for themselves. eventually, their time will come, and this just so happens to be yours.

the lady sits you down in the carriage next to her while the coachman leads the way back. she informs you will be working under the family as a servant but will be provided housing, food, and even freedom from time to time.

"i heard you like sewing."

you nod shyly at her words.

"i learned it from my mother."

"good. then you will have the opportunity to hone the skill."

the trip to the second district takes a total of three days, the only times you guys stopped was for food or toilet breaks. when the coachman announces the arrival, your first time seeing the scenery is that to of a fish fresh out of water.

you didn't even know trees or grass could be that green. or that it's not always supposed to feel like a sense of dread that takes the smiles off people's faces until they just look straight miserable.

it's as if you've entered a completely different nation, unable to comprehend the huge difference already, even in comparison to the third district.

the lady is quick to disappear into the house almost the size of the orphanage itself, calling for someone else to escort you around and show what the next couple of years (and possibly, the rest of your life) has in store for you.

you're to wake up at 5am everyday to prepare food for the noble family, and will be sharing a chamber with three other female servants: the main cook, the main cleaner, and another young girl about your age.

you're only allowed to wander during weekends with authorization and is only to go out for groceries or other necessities. other than that, any rule breaking will have consequences.

for the next couple of days, you practice the routine.

waking up in the early morning and prepping breakfast, then cleaning, and repeat for lunch and dinner. sometimes, you'd get to do different tasks like helping the noble daughter pick out a dress or shoes for the day, but that's only if you get called.

you pick up the cooking and cleaning quite fast because you used to help your parents a lot. and though the work hours can be tiring, the food you're eating and the place you sleep in is a lot better.

you also get the occasional freedom and access to improve your seamstress skills, and it's not the ideal life, but it is the best one for someone like you.

--

you hear a grunting sound close by one morning when you decide to wake up earlier than usual.

turning to the source, you see a figure far away near the tall gates, prancing around in his heavy armors with a sword in his hand. the sight definitely amazes you as you're only able to stare in awe before accidentally creating a ruckus that catches the attention of the stranger as he turns around.

it's still dark and you can't see his face very well, only until he starts walking toward you.

"can i help you?" he asks, voice a type of husky but innocent.

"oh, no." you shake your head, "i was just uhm... watching."

he chuckles and looks to the ground, your eyes trained on the way his dark hair ruffles along with his movements until he's staring at you again, finally out of the poor lighting.

he's cute and has childlike features. definitely not an appearance that gives away he could probably slice you dead right now if he wants to.

"you're the new worker," he vocalize, and it takes you a second to figure how he knew, following his gaze to the door of the chamber behind you.

"ah, yes i am." you nod.

"cool. well, i'm the gatekeeper. jongho."

"gatekeeper?" you crank an eyebrow, so far behind on rich people terminology, you have no idea what that means.

"i just protect and patrol the place in case of any intruders. it sounds fancy but it's really not. you don't have to keep it formal, though. we're all servants here."

"i see." you smile tight-lipped.

he also does look a little too young to be manhandling weapons or putting his life on the line, but you too, are also too young to be losing your parents and getting sold off as a servant.

for anyone in the lower three districts, it is all for survival.

you soon learn that jongho was born in the fourth district but he's been living and training here for so long, he can barely recall his time there.

and you're not sure what it is about him that makes you open up given the fact you've been closed off for so long ever since your parents death and the comprehension of the cruel world you're living in, but through the year and before you turn sixteen, you find your first true friend in choi jongho.

age 16:

you get acquainted with hongjoong, a friend of jongho and a messenger who travels in and out of the districts to deliver any important information.

you're not sure how he keeps his identity on the low in spite of the growing tension between all the districts, but jongho assures you he has his ways.

jongho spends his days training with many kinds of weapons; swords, spears, daggers, crossbows, and just about everything when he's not guarding the house--which he usually isn't because the second district is still relatively safe at this time.

but if there is any outside attackers, it would be jongho's and the other men's responsibilities to protect the noble family. it's what they've all been trained for.

you still cook and clean, and your sewing skills have gotten increasingly better that you also started picking up embroidery.

on the occasion, jongho would teach you how to use a dagger just so you'd have some knowledge of self defense and protection considering the alarming state of the nation.

and now that you're living under people of noble status, royal parties and balls were the standards. not that you'll ever get to attend them for yourself, always hearing about it for an alternative or watching the noble family dress up in pretty attires that cost hefty coins before they waddle off in their carriage into the first district.

hongjoong returns a week later, informing you and jongho that the conditions, especially in the fifth district, is really bad that some citizens have decided to risk their lives in hope of reaching the kingdom of aurora since ships and boats cannot be sailed without approval from the royal family.

"it's basically a death sentence to be living in any of the lower districts at this point. i fear if the king doesn't do anything about it, a civil war may be on the horizon."

age 17:

not much changes and hongjoong has said that the king, along with other royal and noble families, refused to take actions since the dividing of resources for all the other districts would cause the first and second to falter because they do not have enough for everyone.

it's better to keep some afloat than to put the entire nation at risk.

"but sir, that's only going to keep running the citizens out of the nation, and the ones that do stay are becoming angry. the first organization against the royal family already formed, calling themselves outlaws. and they're not just ordinary citizens. they could infiltrate the two higher districts if they want to. a solution is not to only keep them happy, but to also prevent a war."

"then strengthen the security. we also have equally skilled men, if not, more. send any able-bodied men to the gates of the first and second district and don't let anybody from the lower threes enter."

age 18:

things only get worse. nobody is allowed to travel freely between the districts anymore and anyone from the first two were strongly advised not to go down because the chances of getting robbed or assaulted are high.

the four working men in the house dwindled down to two because the other two, including jongho, would be sent to guard the entrance. but during rotation when he gets to come back to sleep and eat, he'd tell you that it's eerily quiet, but that all the lower districts know the higher ones are blocking off entrance and might retaliate soon.

"we should be prepared for the worst. hongjoong said the fact they're quiet might mean the organization is planning something."

age 19:

for a while, security at the entrance decreases when it looks like the lower districts weren't gonna try to do anything about it.

jongho and the other men in the house were able to stay around longer, sometimes even for a few days straight without going back, and the outrage did feel like it was just a false alarm.

no one in the higher districts, even hongjoong, were prepared for the storm that is after the calm.

"y/n! wake up!"

you groggily groan at the voice, sounding both hushed but eager as it jolts you from sleep.

it's jongho and he looks absolutely terrified, his figure hovering over your body still in bed.

"come on, y/n! we have to get going!"

you don't have the time to take in anything, jongho already pulling you up harshly to stand on your feet as you hurl out more groans and complaints.

"what's going on? i was sleeping, you know."

"the king is dead."

it's those words that makes you more awake than ever, unable to believe as you just stare dumbfoundedly while he ravages the drawers for more appropriate clothings.

"w-what? h-how?" you can barely form anything coherent at this point, your heart racing so fast.

"he was assasinated," jongho reveals, throwing a loose, oversized shirt at you. "we're not sure how they managed to get that far up the first district, but all this time, that must've been what they were preparing for--you need to get changed."

he throws you a pair of pants and continues speaking, at the same time going through almost the entire perimeter for anything that will prove useful.

you don't even care he's in the same room, your body going into shock and quickly pulling the night gown off before putting on what he gave you.

"hongjoong thinks they're planning a raid, starting from the second district and working their way up. if we stay here, we could get captured, held hostage, or whatever those outlaws want to do with us--here."

he finds the dagger he had given you sitting in the last drawer, pulling the extra sheath out of his pouch and running to tie it around your waist.

"keep this with you at all time, and remember what i taught you. just in case we ever get separated, you need to protect yourself," he demands, passing the dagger to you with an extremely serious look on his face along with the statement just now, making you queasy in the stomach.

you can't imagine having to part from jongho for whatever reason. you wouldn't know what to do.

he gestures to your shoes and you wear it quickly.

"now come on, let's go!" he grabs your wrist and your body flings forward, only managing to grab the pouch on top the dresser before your feet's following his steps out the door despite the lingering sleepiness and that you could be forgetting something else, but it's all happening so fast, your mind struggling to keep up.

you're about to ask him about the other servants, or the noble family, but as he whisk you into the nightly air, the breeze pushing past your skin, you realize that before jongho came, you were alone.

they all left you.

"where are we going?" you ask.

"down to the third district. hongjoong lended me a map and said to go through the forest, we'll catch less attention that way. he said we can stay at one of his hideouts for now."

for the next hours, you don't see anything but trees and branches in your way, and the moon high above the dark sky as it follows both you and jongho.

your feet tired and sore at this point, asking jongho to find a place to sit even for just a few minutes because you might just pass out.

"if we keep at this pace, we'll be able to make it to the third district by morning," he informs, handing over the costrel and telling you to drink.

you nod, passing it back after finishing, observing for a few seconds as jongho takes a couple sips.

"so where did everyone else go?" you finally bring up the question bothering you.

"to the lower districts. i heard some are hoping to reach the port so they'll get the chance to sail to aurora or dune, now that the royal family is in a crisis, people don't care anymore. but as you already know, we have limited ships and boats and it's going to be a bloodbath all around."

he goes on, "we only found out the king was dead when people from the first district started migrating, and then everyone in the second started panicking, and i honestly did too initially. i was about to start heading down until i remembered you."

you smile and nudge the boy with your elbow affectionately.

"if not for you, i probably would've turned into a corpse by tomorrow."

"pfft," he scoffs, "not a corpse but a captive maybe. their target is still the royal family, and now that the king is dead, they'll most likely go after the prince. the raid is just to scare people off so they can bask in the lavish that the first and second district has to offer. but still, it's better to be safe than sorry. they did killed the king, after all."

you take in the information, asking one last question.

"and where is hongjoong?"

"he was also in the second district at the time, but after lending me the map and instructions, he said he's gonna go up in order to get more details; hopefully talk to the prince and will report back in a few days."

"do you think he's going to be okay?"

jongho nods and stands up from the log, reaching his hand out to help you.

"he should be. he wouldn't be able to survive for this long if he isn't competent. but we should get going or else the trip will be delayed."

--

the hideout is a small shack in the corner of the wood, blending into the surroundings so perfectly, you and jongho almost missed it.

it's essentially a square with a single wooden bed, one chair, and a small table with an ewer sitting on top. jongho said the water in there should still be good to use, and that he brought enough breads to survive on for a few days.

"i can take the floor," he says, taking off the crossbow and sword that's been stuck to his body for an entire night and settling them down.

"we can take turns," you offer an alternative, pitying the boy because he's the one who's been doing most of the works.

"alright."

he nods it off. he wasn't gonna fight you on it.

you and jongho passes time by training for the majority of time. sometimes, you'd just watch, but when he isn't worn out by his own routine, he'd tell you the basics of a crossbow and a knightly sword and would proceed to watch you practice with the dagger.

"you're holding it like a coward who's never fought in their life," is his usual criticism.

"well maybe cause i am a coward who has never fought before," you will retort.

"when facing an enemy, you can't show that you're afraid. you have to believe in yourself."

"easy for you to say."

but regardless of his yapping that sometimes make you roll your eyes all the way to the back of your head, he's a good teacher and even complimented you. if saying that you're a lot less awful than when you started, counts.

three days later from when you both settled, the light, passive knock at the door alerts you and jongho, you almost wishing it was one of the outlaws, preferably a weaker member just so you can put what you've learned to use.

but it's hongjoong.

"so what did the prince say?" jongho asks, quick and eager.

"he's recruiting. said he'll take in anyone still willing to stand by his side while he figure things out. he needs time."

"what about the guards and men that were in the castle? isn't it their duty to protect the royal family?"

"more than half of them ran to the lower districts. the outlaws probably won't do much to a normal citizen, but they will be vile to anyone on the prince's side."

"and he didn't try to stop them?" you join, hongjoong turning his head to you and shaking.

"he said he wasn't gonna force anyone who didn't want to stay. but for those willing to fight by his side, he'll take them."

you don't mean to come off hypercritical, but you can't help but think that the prince is being careless.

"but the outlaws want him dead, no? he shouldn't be taking in just anybody. that's too dangerous."

hongjoong just shrugs.

"that was his order."

a silence hangs between the three of you after, and one glance at jongho, you see that conflicted look in his eyes and know that he's about to say something you won't like.

"i'll go."

you snap your neck to him so fast, there must've been a pop.

"what--jongho, no," you object, worry in your tone. hongjoong just standing by and watching the incoming dispute unfold.

"it's better than standing around and waiting for something to happen."

"but putting your life on the line? for all you know, there might not even be a solution at all. look at the state of the kingdom. people are running away, everyone fearing for their own safety. in the end, you could be dying for nothing. did you forget it's because of these people that us born in the lower districts have to live a shit life?"

by now, you're both facing each other and fuming through your noses.

"and did you forget that we haven't been to the lower districts in years? ever since we got the opportunity to move into one of the top two? even if we were just servants, we were living better than a normal family in the fifth district. i was guarding and blocking off an entrance because i was so much better than the people trying to get through. you think i enjoyed doing that shit? no. but it was my job. in some ways, we betrayed our roots, y/n. and you're right. the prince could be lying and stalling out of his ass, but you know... i'm hoping that he's not. because for once, i want to feel like i'm doing something worthy. i didn't train all my life just to guard gates where nothing ever fucking happens nine out of ten times."

you watch in disbelief as he turns to pick up his crossbow and sword.

"so whether you like it or not, i'm going."

he gives hongjoong a stern look, to which the older man returns one, but is soon carried away by your voice again.

"then i'm going with you."

and jongho knows he's going to sound like a hypocrite; the fact he cares for you as much as you care for him so he doesn't want you to put yourself in the face of danger.

he also understands that you share the same sentiment in regard to him, which is why you don't want him to go.

"no. it's safest for you to stay here. you don't have the same training and combat that i do. you can barely hold a dagger the right way and it's one of the most light and basic weapon. those outlaws will pummel you like a bug."

you roll your eyes and you can see hongjoong trying to hold in his laughter.

"well geez, thanks, master. but boohoo. all i know is that i need to stab," you snark, managing to pull a small smile from jongho before switching tone. "i'm serious, though. i know i'm not gonna be pounding anyone, but i'd still like to come with. it would put a lot of my worries to rest knowing you're alive and okay."

"i'll be fine, y/n," he assures, one hand on your shoulder, "and if it'll make you feel better, if hongjoong doesn't mind, he can come once in a while to inform you of what's going on."

you meet hongjoong's gaze at that and he nods with a thin smile.

but that's still not good enough for you because how can you possibly be okay with the only person you can call family, going off and risking his life?

you're not.

which is why when they both finally depart, you wait until they're a good distance away yet still visible to the eye, tying the sheath the way jongho did and sticking your dagger in before taking the costrel he left for you along with the remaining breads and following right behind them.

hongjoong used to travel on horseback but he has to be more discreet this time around, especially going up the higher districts.

you're somewhat thankful for that because you're not sure you can keep up if that was the case.

you stop when they stop, and rest when they rest. you would try listening in on their conversations but it's always inaudible from where you're at.

you put aside the pain of an aching feet or fear of the nightly forest, afraid you would give yourself out.

two days later, you're sure you guys are close. a part of you somewhat curiously pumped because you've never wander up the first district before.

with the sun setting and the stars soon to come out, you're hoping to arrive before it gets too dark because you really are dreading the idea of spending another night hidden behind itchy bushes.

dragging yourself up the steep hill, you can't help but to admire the scenery, the air of utopia still fresh and the birds still chirp like the nation is whole, resuming your steps only to see that you've lost sighting of jongho and hongjoong, and if you're any quicker, they will catch on.

you don't panic just yet, although you're getting nervous, but carrying on because the castle shouldn't be too far from here. as soon as you can spot it, it should be easy to trace it back to the two.

the only problem is how you're gonna get in once you reach it.

as you get closer to the top, you can spot the castle's head peaking, and once finally on flat land, you're able to see the entire thing, and the dazzling white architecture is hard to miss.

the heart and soul of utopia planted right in the center of the first district, and you've never seen anything more sophisticated in your entire life. but as you sneak closer, you're sure that you're not even gonna make it past the portcullis.

if you don't find jongho, you'd be coming all this way for nothing.

--

you've been watching the guards at the gate and their patterns of behavior for the last hour, every time inching closer to the entrance with the least amount of noise as possible.

but you should've known. you've overestimated your ability (by a large margin) thinking you can outsmart people who does this for a living, and of all places, it had to be royal family's. stupid.

you barely take a step when the pressure of a sharp object against your back make your eyes go wide in horror.

you're thinking this is it. you should've listened to jongho and should have not acted like such a know-it-all, because the next time he sees you, it will be in corspe form.

the beating of your heart is loud along with the stranger's breathing, their hand going retrieve your dagger from the sheath, and if they attack, you will have no other way to defend yourself.

"who the hell are you and why are you sneaking around my castle?" the deep, masculine tone drowns your ears.

my castle?

you foolishly turn around like an idiot, feeling the pressure of the object move to your neck instead, looking up at this mysterious stranger but unable to make anything out.

the running of footsteps and commotion can be heard from behind you, a series of voices and better lighting approaching with all the torches in the guards hands, and when you're finally able to make out the pair of eyes staring back, it feels as if you forgot how to breathe.

because if it isn't the most beautiful man you've ever seen, dark locks, sly and sharp eyes to that of a fox that looks disapproving of your choices before it turns slightly softer when he sees how harmless you actually look, the weapon in his hand lowering with a clear of his throat.

"what part of 'it's safest if you stay here' did you not understand?"

jongho's loud and frustrated voice echoes through the entire hall, pacing back and forth in place as he reprimands you in front of hongjoong, the prince, and his other royal companions.

the prince (who you have to make a point one more time that he's devastingly beautiful) was unexpectedly casual when you explained to him you were looking for your friends, even returning your dagger.

"i only came because i was worried about you. i know you would do the same for me."

"yes, but something could've happened to you. you could've gotten lost, or worse."

"as you can see, i'm fine. the most life threatening thing was the prince putting a knife to my back and neck."

"because you were limping around the castle like an idiot."

"well, what was he doing outside of it anyways?"

"why are you talking about the prince like that!" he yells, and the both of you having an awakening at the same time, registers how embarrassing and inappropriate it actually is to be having a screaming match in the royal family's hall, turns to the prince and bow in apology.

"sorry," you both mutter.

"it's fine," the prince dismisses.

when you were still living at the orphanage, some of the kids would often play guessing games about the prince just because the chances of ever meeting him were close to none, everyone might as well get creative.

some assumed he's a snob because kids being kids, they were all jealous of the fact he was living better, and so it's only natural he would think he's better than everyone else.

then some thought he looked like a troll, which was why the king and queen kept him inside most of the time.

none of you guys knew a lot about the prince, but there were words on the street that he almost never went out of the castle; some even using that as confirmation for why he's a stuck-up.

but after meeting him, he's nothing like the kids have predicted.

he definitely does not look like a troll or sound like a snob, at least so far. he's actually rather soft-spoken, though a bit aloof and stoic. but you suppose one isn't gonna be jolly after the death of their father.

--

jongho had insisted that you go back immediately, and you were considerate of the castle's deities enough to pull him outside just to object.

but you only got another line in the quarrel before the prince intervened and much to jongho's dismay, said you could stay for the night since it was getting late and traveling would be difficult.

"but you're leaving as soon as the sun comes up!" he proceeds to nag the entire time you tuck yourself to bed, the prince kindly offering a spare chamber for you to stay in.

"yes. i know," you reply, all snarky tone and turning to face the other way because he's getting on your nerves.

there's a quick silence before the edge of the bed creaks with his weight.

"look, i know you only came because you were worried about me, and you're right, i would do the same for you."

you toss slowly to look him up in the eyes from your position.

he goes on, now locking you in his gaze, "but it's way too dangerous for you to stay here, and we don't know when they're going to attack. and worse, if they see you're in alliance with the prince, who knows what they'll do? i'll be fine. this is what i've trained my whole life for. you just have to believe in me."

you sigh and frown, finally deciding to cave because you do know that jongho is capable. you've never doubted him. it's the opponents that you're unsure of, their next moves could be anything.

"i'll go back, but hongjoong still needs to follow the end of the deal."

jongho smiles warmly, relieved you're no longer trying to fight him on this.

"he'd be happy to."

you nod, figuring that since you're already here, you might as well ask.

"so how many men volunteered?"

"for now, three. me, someone named yunho from the third district, and another guy named minjun. but more might wind up later, who knows."

"i still don't think it's smart of the prince to be taking in just anyone. it's way too risky. you have good intentions, but what about the two other?" you voice concernedly, your forehead starting to crease from the distress.

you just met the prince, but you know that the idea is ridiculous and you don't want him meeting the same fate as his father.

"optimism maybe? i don't know. more than half of the royal family's protections are gone so he probably can't be too picky. but i'd like to think he knows what he's doing."

but he's also still young and is currently in a worse position than his father, the king, who couldn't even save utopia. you don't think anybody is ready to be in his place, let alone lead an entire kingdom that's falling apart.

"alright. then you should return to the others; help them look after the prince. he's going to need it."

"actually, he ordered us to stay with the queen and princess."

you shoot up from position, incredulity written all over your face.

"what--why? all of you guys? then who's going to look after him?"

jongho shrugs.

"i disagree as well, but after all, he's the prince. we can't disobey orders."

"you guys should be allowed to if it's foolish. what is going on in his head?" you shake your own, unable to believe it.

you just know that something bad is gonna happen, and it would be due to the prince's own incompetence.

jongho has no idea either given he only just met him as well, but he's crossing his fingers the prince will prove both of you wrong.

"i have to go. you should get some rest because you'll be leaving in the early morning. i'll see you then."

--

you're woken up by a heavy disturbance, the ruckus happening outside of the room but also sounding so close.

it might be best if you stay here; leave whatever the noises is to the guards in the castle, but you just feel it in your guts that your prediction have came true.

carefully opening the door, you peek your head out, immediately drawn to the bright light illuminating at the end of the hall, and soon, your quick and eager feet has taken you to the shocking sight.

the prince standing before jongho and another guard as they hold back someone you can't quite recall. one of his hand tending to the cut on his left arm, and you can see the red seeping through the thin white fabric.

the prince meets your eyes when he notices you standing outside.

"i knew it!" you screech, your turn to pace back and forth as jongho watches from the side. "he shouldn't have just taken in anyone!"

you found out it was minjun, one of threes who volunteered along with jongho, who attacked the prince. apparently, he had snuck away from the other guards and was in the prince's room within minutes, a sword aimed at the young royal that could've taken his life.

"luckily, he only got off with a cut. i can't even imagine what would've happened."

jongho groans anxiously, the first day on the job and the reality of it already showing its head.

"there's nothing luck-based about the prince's survival," hongjoong's voice has you both turning as he appears from the opened door.

"prince san isn't only highly skilled in all areas of fighting, but he's the best warrior utopia has to offer. he most likely knew about the attack beforehand, which was why he only got away with a cut considering minjun also isn't just an average member of the outlaws," hongjoong reveals, the new information makes you and jongho gawk at each other in surprise.

"y/n," he calls out, and you detach from jongho's eyes to look at him.

"yes?"

"i need you to do me a favor. i trust you enough, and you look rather... harmless."

you pinch in your brows. if he wants to go off about your terrible fighting and self defense skill, he might as well just spell it out.

"the prince said he has a plan, but we're going to need to buy time. and no matter how skilled he is, we can't keep dealing with people coming into the castle in attempts to severe the prince's head. it's best if he's away until we can figure things out, for his safety and the kingdom's."

you only hum and nod, wondering where exactly this is going.

"he'll be leaving with you in the morning."

your face falls in horror, unable to believe they're entrusting the prince to you. the thoughts of being alone with someone like him both terrifying but weirdly stimulating.

"oh my gosh, she's blushing..." jongho yelps, a smirk tugging at his lips. he's seen the way you'd ogle at the prince, definitely something you never did to any other men.

"i'm not!" you cry defensively, embarrassed. "i-i just don't think i'm the right person."

"we just need the prince away from the castle for a few days. for now, it look like the outlaws are not planning on moving up the first district entirely, so the rest of us should be safe as well for the time being. you still remember the way back to the shack, right?"

you nod hesitantly.

"good. then it's settled."

--

the following morning, everyone bids farewell to the prince, the queen and princess wishing him well as the guards and hongjoong stack him with equipments, while jongho makes you carry the food and water.

he takes off the royal attire, disguising himself in commoner clothings instead, as recommended by his companion, wooyoung.

hongjoong promises to report back once things get relatively better.

at first, it's nerve-racking because you just can't help it. the prince is so handsome and your touch-starved body just reacts naturally, but once you figure he isn't gonna talk to you, only gesturing or murmuring out short instructions, the spark wears off.

"we should stop and rest for the night," he speaks more than three words for the first time, laying down his stuff and nodding to the tall tree.

"alright."

you settle your things down as well, plopping against the tree and waiting for him to do the same but he instead pulls out the sword and starts slashing the air.

when he takes notice of your gawking from behind, he apologizes.

"sorry, i'm just... practicing, hope you don't mind. you can rest, i'll keep watch."

you nod it off, sleep soon taking over, but when you wake a few hours later, able to tell from the different color painting the sky, the prince is still practicing and seems just as eager as he was before.

"prince," you call out, his movements halting in place as he turns back at the sound of your voice.

"call me san."

you clear your throat, "uh... san, have you slept at all?"

he shakes his head.

"i was practicing."

you stand up, dusting off the dirts from your pants and growing concerned regarding the sleepless prince.

"you can sleep. i'll keep watch and if there's anything, i'll wake you up," you offer, but he's quick to reject the proposal.

"no need to. i'm not tired anyways. if you're feeling fully rested, we can keep going. the sun is almost up."

you watch in dejection as he goes to retrieve his things because you're not sure you can believe he's not even the tiniest bit tired from everything so far.

--

it takes almost an entire day to reach the destination, your body tired and aching for something to sit on, the minute you reach the shack, you're sprawled all over the chair.

the prince looks just fine, though.

"it's small, but comfortable," you assure the prince just in case he has any doubts in mind. because you initially did, too, but it was surprisingly homey when you last stayed with jongho.

he nods, eyes roaming the small interior.

"it'll do."

"you can take the bed. i don't mind taking the floor," you tell him, but he instead shakes his head.

"the bed's all yours. i'll be outside practicing."

you scowl and sit up from your seat.

"again? we've been traveling all day. you should really get some rest considering you didn't get any the night before."

but he's stubborn, grabbing for his sword again as you can only sigh in disapproval.

"i really don't feel tired."

"then you should eat, at least."

"i'm not hungry."

you end up going to bed alone, only listening to the prince's grunting and slashing outside as he practices like he's trying to reach out to something or someone.

the uneasiness consuming you, seeing him always looking so miserable as if something's bothering him, unable to rest or do anything else.

it's understandable because of the circumstances he's in, but you wish he would be kinder to himself.

you only give him another two hours before taking matters into your own hand, flinging the door open to his figure dancing around the area with his sword, calling his name softly that makes him stop in track to look at you.

"enough," you mumble, quiet but stern, prying the weapon out of his hold with so much power, you think jongho would be proud.

"no, i have to pr--" he reaches for the sword but you move back, the prince grabbing only the nightly air in place.

"no, you don't," you spit, your free hand going to grab his wrist and dragging him back inside. "you need to eat and rest."

the sword clinks the flooring when you drop it, sitting san down on the bed and grabbing some of the breads and dried meat before taking the seat next to him.

"i understand you're going through a lot right now and it's tough, but you need to take care of yourself. you can't wear your body out or punish it. you're not even fully healed from the cut. if something happens, if worst comes to worst, you need to be prepared to fight."

you push the food toward him but he doesn't budge the slightest. his eyes trained on it, but everything else completely frozen.

for a second, you think all the efforts is gonna go to waste because the prince won't listen, but much to your surprise, he starts talking.

"my father and everyone around me would always say i was the best fighter in the entire kingdom; that i was one of a kind, gifted from a young age, and the future of utopia. i used to believe that as well, but what kind of prick can't even save his own father?"

a small gasp fall, fussing under your breath, "san..."

"maybe i'm only as great because i had the access and materials to become great. but in actuality, i would be no more than average in any other scenarios."

"san, you are great. hongjoong said you are, and you even fought off minjun. it's not your fault what happened to your father," determination in your delivery, finding yourself oddly caring for someone you barely knew.

"father did always lived every day as if it was his last. he knew everyone was out to get him..." he fidgets with one of the breads before taking a small bite out of it. "i thought it would make me feel better if i caught his killer, but i really don't feel any different."

"so hongjoong was right. you knew about the attack?"

you watch as he ogles at the piece of bread like it's the most interesting thing in the world, noddling lightly and taking another bite.

"somewhat, yeah. i was the one who found my father's body, and you can imagine… it's not easy for any kid to see their own parent blue in the face, lying lifeless in front of them, and especially knowing their murderer got away. it made me vengeful, but i couldn't act recklessly. i had to set up a bait because i didn't know who it was, but i knew they were coming."

you listen to each of his words so attentively, and you make sure he knows.

"it could've been your friend, jongho, or the others that came along. it could be anyone. it could be all of them. but regardless, whoever it was wanted me dead just like my father and wouldn't have passed up the chance."

you exhale, looking at the prince with sympathy and sadness in your eyes, all this time you really gave him too little credits, one of your hand somehow finding itself on top his resting one and soothing it.

"i can't do much, but i'm here to listen. if we're going to be together for a while, we might as well have each other's back."

and when san finishes his food and actually goes to sleep for the rest of the night (although you did have to fight him about sleeping on the floor), you finally feel at ease, able to go to sleep knowing he's not pushing himself.

san is the first thing you see upon waking up, his figure bending down a couple feet away and drinking out of the costrel.

he knows you're up from the movements, turning to meet your tired eyes.

"good morning."

"good morning, san."

"you should eat first. i left some out for you."

"oh, okay."

you nod politely, throwing the blanket off and getting up from the makeshift bed, but first telling him that you're gonna go wash your face.

"i checked the ewer. there's no more water in there."

"hmm," you hum, attempting to come up with a solution. "i'm gonna go down to the river. i'll be back in a bit."

"wait." his call stops you in track, half your body out the door. "i'd like to come with."

"is that okay? i mean... will that be safe?" because now that the prince is with you, you feel it is your responsibility to keep him out of danger no matter how unskillful you are. you don't want a single sighting putting his life on the line (more than it already is).

"we'll make it quick. besides, i need to wash up as well. i don't feel too clean from all those practices."

the river is actually quite close by, having never been there during your stay in this district but following the sound of nature was relatively easy to do. and you suppose hongjoong chose the spot for this reason.

once there, you're splashing your face immediately and rejoicing in the cool sensation, only just registering san's been watching you the entire time when you turn and meet his piercing gaze.

his expression blank before dropping to a smile at your wide-eye. and the first time that he does, you realize you've never seen him smile, ever. your attention taken away by the deep indentations appearing from his cheeks, and for just a second, your heart feels like it might explode.

but it's his turn with the river, you observing as he mimics you until both your faces are wet and raining with droplets.

"here," you say, pulling out the spare handkerchief you had remember to bring before coming, offering it to him then using the other one for yourself.

he thanks you, about to wipe his face when the striking design catches his eye.

"this is beautiful," he comments, your head snapping his direction. "did you make it yourself?"

you nod shyly.

"i picked up embroidery somewhere after sewing for a while."

the conversation continues on the walk back, san asking the questions because he just grasped the revelation he doesn't know anything about you.

aside from trying to sneak into his castle and being the friend of one of his guards, that's as much as he can recall off the top of his head although you're quite literally in a life or death situation with him.

"you said you picked up embroidery, so are you from the second district?"

san knows almost everyone who lived in the first district, having spent his entire life and becoming familiar with the surrounding neighbors.

during the occasional balls and parties, he'd get acquainted with some from the second districts. but he's never seen you before. if he did, he would probably be able to recognize you.

but he knows that a hobby and skill like embroidery was something only those in the top two could afford. it was a luxury, as much as san hates putting it like that.

you giggle at the thought and shake your head.

"i was a servant for a family from the second, but i'm originally from the fifth. i picked up embroidery because the daughter of the family was pressured into learning and i was there to help sometimes."

"oh..." is all he says.

maybe he expected you to have some noble blood or be from greatness, but the only thing close to the two were the shoes you shined and the people you served.

your entire life, nothing about you was ever great or noble.

you may have ran from the lower district for a better life, but you were never ashamed of where you came from.

it made you who you are, and if anything, you're a survivor.

"yeah..." you mumble, stopping once reaching the shack again.

he picks it up from your tone, correcting himself to make sure you don't misunderstand, "no. i didn't mean it like that. i'm just, curious about you and your background."

"oh?" you squeak, "then what do you want to know, prince."

you take a seat where he was sitting before, reaching for the food he left for you and looking up at him from where you are, wondering what kind of prince would want to know about a commoner like you.

"an iris," he refers to the pattern embroidered on the handkerchief, "was there a reason why you chose it?"

you smile softly, the question taking you back to a lane of memories and nostalgia.

"it was both of my parents' favorite flower. they always did clung onto any sort of hope there was when it came to our living conditions, and father would always used to say the iris not only symbolized that, but also courage and bravery. i don't know how true that is, but i tend to associate the flower with my parents. it was all i managed to take when me and jongho ran from the second district."

"that's sweet," the prince says, making your eyelashes bat as he plops down at the end of the makeshift bed but he never once look away from you. "and where are your parents?"

the death of your parents was once something that was difficult to talk about; a reality that you used to deny because you couldn't accept that they're no longer by your side and sharing the same struggles. because you guys did suffered a lot, but you all had each other.

and suddenly, you only had yourself.

it wasn't until jongho that you started to open up again; learn to let someone into your heart; to share the same struggles and to suffer all over again, but at least with someone by your side once more.

and it's with that lesson that you allow the prince in as well, unveiling some parts of yourself, for some reason feeling like you can entrust it to him.

"they passed away. the fishermen said the sea took them. it's been a long time and i've come to terms with it."

you don't miss the way his chest fall and a sullen look takes over his expression.

"i'm sorry to hear."

his life experiences and pain could never compare to anyone from the lower districts, he understands that all too well; how good and privileged he's had it.

but grief doesn't discriminate, and the feeling is... debilitating.

it makes you go into denial, nothing but a directionless road laying ahead, unable to help but think if you ever will recover.

but he feels a little better after talking to you, a living proof that no matter the loss or grief one goes through, there's a chance he will make it out fine in the end.

--

you're about to go off to bed when you suddenly remember what hongjoong had told you.

"prince," you call from below, the title just naturally rolling off despite the plenty of time he's made clear you can call him by his name.

"we have to change the dressing on your wound."

you get up to go search through one of the heavy bags, digging for some clean linens and vinegar the others had made sure to pack for the prince.

"hongjoong said we should change it every couple of days," you tell him, sitting at the edge of the bed while he stands up from the sleeping position. "your arm, prince." you gesture and watch as he rolls up his sleeve.

your cheeks for some reason start heating up at the sight, the blinking and nervous twitch of your eyes give it away, causing a giggle to tumble out of the prince at your flustered reaction.

"y/n," he speaks, once you've stared for long enough and still have yet to remove the old cloth. "that's what jongho and hongjoong calls you by."

"y-yes." you nod.

"have you ever tend to a wound before?"

"well, no. but i've been instructed on how to."

"i see." he smiles, and you're about to crack at the man in front of you. beautiful smile, perfect features, and some muscular arms to go along with it.

once you've contained yourself (or at least look like it), you unwrap the worn cut-out cloth and replaces it with a new one, every steps of what hongjoong had laid out followed to the very best of your ability.

"thank you, y/n," the prince says one more time, and the last smile on him for the night makes you think he just might be teasing you.

the past few days that you've spent with the prince, he's proven your expectations and predictions wrong over and over again.

almost like everything you've assumed is untrue in the best way possible. his aloof and stoic ways melting into smiles and laughters when you'd tell him stories about the kids back at the orphanage and how they thought he was a troll.

spending days and nights confined to a small space with someone you just met, the idea sounding awful but the reality actually quite nice because it's comfortable with him.

he not only speaks well, his words always the most soft and unoffending as they can be, but he also listens well.

day by day, the doubts you had--whether he would be able to salvage utopia, changes to the hope and belief that he's more than competent to pull it off.

but there's still questions bothering you; the strangeness of the entire picture in how utopia managed to fall to a state this bad in the first place if the prince is as level-headed as he presents himself.

he at least should've been talking sense into the king.

so you finally ask, during a routine morning where you and san have gotten accustomed to waking up the crack of dawn, sitting facing each other and munching away on portions of food that becomes less the more days pass by.

"san," you start, his name now more comfortable on your lips. it makes him pick his up head from the food to you.

"hongjoong said you have a plan, right? the reason they sent you here was to buy time. i-i was just wondering where does it go from here?" you try your utmost best to not sound meddlesome.

you're just worried.

because as much as you enjoy the time together, the unknown makes you uneasy. you don't want to doubt him but you also don't want everything so far to be for nothing.

it's the prince's personal affairs and not yours, but you just wish for there to be assurances; some kind of proof that speaks he knows what he's doing, because the closer you get to him, the more you fear losing him.

"i have a plan, yes," he answers, the calm demeanor on him a complete contrast to the troubled one on you. "why? are you worried?"

you breathe out, eventually nodding timidly.

"it's just that the state of the kingdom right now is really bad and it's going to take a lot to please the citizens, especially the group of rebellions. the idea of peace just seems so... unreachable."

you already sound like you're about to break down, when the prince--the one actually having to deal with it, looks the most calm and collective.

he acknowledges the concern, thinking it's fairly reasonable. actually, he's surprise everyone's been able to restrain themselves from spiraling for this long.

if he was someone else, he don't think he'll be able to put his trust into an inexperienced prince in hope of him saving the entire nation as well.

"the people of utopia isn't aware, but about a decade ago, the king of aurora, the closest neighboring kingdom to us had offered to help the nation after witnessing the terrible conditions most of the lower districts were suffering from," san reveals, "but my father... he denied the help."

you squeeze your brows in disbelief.

"what--why?"

"the king of aurora only requested for utopia's protections and services in return. as you know, we may lack in every other aspects, but armed forces is our strength. almost every men in the nation has some kind of experience when it comes to fighting or self defense. aurora is a peaceful and harmonious nation, but their men do not have the same training, combats, or skills that we do, and the king of aurora acknowledged the fact. though aurora was very unlikely to get into an altercation with another nation, the king said he would feel a lot better with utopia behind them."

"my father didn't see a point in tying ourselves down, binding an 'unnecessary' responsibility to our back. he said our ancestors' done it for hundreds of years without help and it will continue to be that way. ever since then, aurora has shunned us. they're not gonna start a war over it, but in other words: they hate our guts."

there's a pause from the prince, something shifting in his eyes before he starts again.

"i love and cherish my father. he is my father after all, and most of everything i've been taught were from him. i also understand that some of the things he did were for my mother, me, and my sister. but i wouldn't ever tell him i also think he's selfish; that i disagree with his view of the world; with his way of running things."

the pain in the prince's voice and delivery is seeping, your heart curling at the amount of hurt he must keep to himself, but if you can be the one to lessen it just a little, you will listen to his every words.

"but still, he's my father and i miss him. no matter how selfish and unreasonable he was most of the times, i promise that after everything is over, i will hold a proper burial for him. i will also repay everyone that stood by my side... i promise that."

his volume tapers near the end, his gaze melting into yours at the last statement.

"i also promised i will correct the mistakes of those who came before me, and if it takes my life, at least i'll be content that i went down with my morals. that i fought for what i believed in, even if the ancestors come back to tear me to shreds for it."

you chuckle, attempting to hold back just the smallest tear pricking the corner of your eye because all you ever did was doubt and doubt, and every single time, he always proved you wrong in the best way possible.

"so you're going to attempt to make a truce with aurora?"

he nods.

"i have to try. if we want equality for everyone, we can't do it without the help of aurora. if we do it now, without aide, the nation will fall apart no different than it is now. no amount of transports based on utopia alone will be enough. but aurora's economy; the standing of their nation is stable enough that helping utopia back on its feet will barely feel like a lift of a finger to them."

"but how would the message reach them?"

"on the day that i got attacked, i sent out one of my men, seonghwa. he knows the way around the sea best. by now, considering it's almost been a week, he should have already reached aurora, but it will take another couple of days to return. that's why i need to buy enough time for seonghwa to come back. i know the citizens won't believe it until they see the king and prince yeosang of aurora for themselves."

"and just what if the king and prince rejects the offer?" you're just trying to touch upon all possibilities.

"you see... i've thought of that as well. in fact, there's probably a bigger chance of them dismissing it considering our history and all. but if that was the case, i had already told seonghwa to head for dune next. it will take him at least another week and a half because of the distance, but if worst come to worst, that's our last hope. dune would be a lot harder to get on our side because they're not lacking in anything, their only weakness is they don't have any kind of alliance. and i was hoping after we sign a treaty with aurora, we could try for dune because they'd be more willing then, knowing we also have aurora, but that's only wishful thinking."

"you really thought everything through, huh?" you have to admit, you're impressed.

"you have no idea. every night after my father's passing, i barely got any sleep... until you finally enforced it upon me."

you giggle, meeting a soft smile on the prince's lips.

"well you need it. and seeing as intricate the plan of action is, you're going to need it even more. don't overwork your body, get plenty of rest in preparation of the big day. i believe you'll be able to do it."

there's a quick silence in the air before the prince speaks again.

"thank you... for believing in me, and keeping me sane of all things."

"my pleasure."

"but if hongjoong doesn't show within a few days, or does with the bearer of the bad news, we'd have to be prepared for relocation. they will pick up that i'm not in the castle and will try looking for me. if dune is the alternative, we're going to have to buy even more time."

"here," san says, coming from behind to stand in front of you, pulling out his own.

after observing one of his practices, he had asked how familiar you are with daggers since he recalled ripping it out of your sheath that day.

you said all understanding you have of it were from jongho, though he liked to find fault in your execution, and after a couple demonstrations, the prince seems to agree that there's a few areas you could improve on.

"a dagger is a short distance combat. some of the most basic requirements in becoming somewhat skilled at is, is trying to master the three primary positions."

you watch him get into stance.

"the first one is a downward thrust, usually used for an opponent who's not experienced in knife combat."

he acts out the method, thrusting his weapon into the air and turning to you.

"you try."

you attempt to mimic what he just did, the weapon a lot light and easier on your grip because the training from jongho did pay off in some ways.

"not bad," he comments, "just more confidence, and don't be afraid. because trust, when the enemy is coming, they won't hold back."

he tightens your grip on the dagger before stepping away.

"this certain method can also be used when an opponent is equipped with another melee weapon, or a firearm."

you nod, his encouragement and gentle teaching style as he tries reframing from straight up saying you stink in some ways or forms, is definitely preferred.

"got it! you are a much better teacher than jongho by a mile. you're actually nice to me," you joke, and the most flattered smile acrossing san's lips doesn't go unseen.

--

you wouldn't ever say it out loud, not to the prince at least.

that though leaving the place and each other's presence will be for a good cause, in some parts of you, you're already starting to dread the separation.

the parts that already grew fond of him in such a short matter of time, you fear there will never be another chance like this. together.

after everything is over, things will go back to the way it was.

he is a prince after all, and you're just... you.

"so, prince, what is the best defense weapon. figure i should ask from only the most competent person in utopia," you talk from your seat, staring up at him as he preps for another hour of practice.

he promised it'll be only an hour today.

"pfft," he blows, "don't say it like that. you might end up unimpressed."

"i mean it."

"you haven't even seen me on the battlefield."

"but i believe in you."

you hop out of your seat to him, tilting your head, "so?"

"i would say a spear. distance is honestly the best defense there is, though i do enjoy practicing with a sword more."

and that's when it happens. all the long days and nights of peace and harmony comes crashing down, from the corner of your eye catching a cloaked figure from far away standing on top one of the hills with a crossbow in their possession.

"prince!" you cry out, pushing his body away from target the hardest ever as he falls to the ground, and then a short second after, the most painful sensation of your chest being struck takes your vision and breath away.

the last thing you see and hear before fading into utter blackness is the sheer horror on the prince's face as his hands are covered with blood, and the desperate call of your name.

"y/n!"

the sound of jongho's voice makes you think you're in a dream, only until your lids are fluttering open that you see the both, scared but relieved expression of your best friend.

"oh my gosh... thank goodness you're alive."

by how tight he's squeezing your hands, you're glad to know you're not dead just yet.

"where am i?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

"back at the castle. you were out for about four days."

"four days?" you repeat, when the memories come flooding back all at once and then some. "the prince."

you attempt to sit up but the dull pain from where you've been hit prevents you, your head falling back into the pillow.

"easy," jongho soothes your body back into position, "you lost a lot of blood, and not only that, the arrow had been poisoned. luckily, the castle has shelves of antidotes for it, but we were all worried that there was just the smallest chance you weren't gonna make it."

he pauses briefly, "the prince got you here in a day and a half... he felt really bad about what happened. he was by your side the entire time and only just left yesterday night when it was announced the king and prince of aurora have arrived."

"aurora have agreed to a truce?" your tone weak, but still filled with excitement, so happy for the prince.

"yes. and hopefully the prince can get them to sign a treaty. that's the plan. it's still going to take them another two or three days to reach the first district, but the prince wanted to go welcome them formally."

"will he be okay?"

"he's under disguise. but you should get some rest and stop worrying about someone else when you're in a worse condition than them," jongho snarks.

"just making sure..."

a smirk graces your friend, a coy look on him.

"what exactly happened back there that's now making you two act like an old married couple forced to be apart? i've known you for longer than the prince and he looked like he was in more distress than i was."

"nothing that is your business," you dismiss, hoping your cheeks doesn't tint a color that gives it away, a chuckle rolling out of jongho at that.

"you used to want to tell me everything. but fair enough. rest and wait until your body is fully healed. i'll visit you every day to update."

it's hard to wrap your head around the fact you didn't wake up for four days--which, more so, should've been the highlight, but you're more intrigued that the prince was by your side up until the last minute he had to go.

you don't want to get overly giddy about it; go beyond what's appropriate and assume that he did so because of another reason, and not just because he felt bad.

but you do wish to see him soon. even if just for a bit.

--

the next few days is a routine, usually consisting of jongho welcoming you with a wholesome breakfast that's more fulfilling than breads and dried meats, then another meal at dinner.

you're in bed for most of the time, your view usually the ceiling of the castle or the empty space around you, everyone busy and occupied now that the plan is becoming a reality.

jongho tries his best to visit you every day, and hongjoong on the occasion to check your condition, but if they're not patrolling outside, they're in halls discussing the next course of actions.

you've heard that the prince have returned just last night with the royals of aurora, not a single peace or quiet outside of your room since.

you can only hope that the loud and muffled voices outside is an indication that everything is going to work out for the prince; for the kingdom of utopia.

laying around in bed all day, only watching as the sun comes up and down as the wind sways the branches outside the window, wishing you could contribute more, if anything than just wait around all day feeling absolutely useless.

the first creak of the door ever since morning is heard, jongho having told you he won't be able to bring the next meal as he'd be out with the other guards but said someone else would.

and every time, no matter how hard you try burying the inappropriate sentiment, you wish it was the prince, even if just to see him for a minute.

you haven't seen him since that day.

but still, you're grateful to have any interactions at all. even if it's not the prince.

"hey," hongjoong greets, a thin smile on as he goes to take a seat on the stool facing the bed.

"hey hongjoong," you return, finally able to sit up without feeling like your gut's about to spill out.

"you doing better?"

you nod.

"a lot better compared to before."

"good. thought i should drop by to let you know about what's going to happen the next couple of days," his voice a deeper, stern tone, "the prince and royals of aurora will be going down the districts, one by one. the prince wants to let everyone know of the upcoming changes and fix that he has in plan. me and jongho will be away, but yunho and the rest of the guards will stay in the castle with the queen, the princess, and you."

"and how long are you guys going to be gone?"

hongjoong shrugs. "really depends. it could be a week, it could be more than that. traveling down to the fifth and coming back up here is gonna be a while. but as quick as possible, i hope."

"okay..." you frown. "just, stay safe."

you care for their safety and wellbeings more than anything. all three people of whom you're most familiar with, going off and risking their lives again. you're going to feel a certain type of way about it.

but they're doing it for a good cause. for the nation. for everyone. and so you allow to put your heart at rest just a little bit.

"don't worry. aurora brought some protections as well, and if we can convince the second district now overrun by outlaws, the rest of them should be easy."

hongjoong leaves after some last words of encouragment, and him wishing you a fast healing process.

later that night, they all left for the lower districts as stated.

--

the castle grows increasingly quiet, all ruckus from before now dwindled down to almost nothing.

the guards are usually busy patrolling outside, even more now that the prince is out, and the only people that seems to actually be around are the queen and princess.

the princess is the one to bring your meals, and you feel awful about the fact when it should be the other way around.

but she is wonderful. soft-spoken, elegant in her manners, and always with a smile on her face although you know it's not easy for anyone, especially what she's going through.

she bears almost no resemblance to san, but there's still some tell-tale features, like their eyes. the same foxy and slanted characteristic trademark on both siblings that looks so mellow on the princess, but entirely menacing on the prince.

"your tea."

the soft call of her voice would get you up from bed immediately, scooting over to thank her as you two meet eyes.

once you start feeling a lot better, able to stand on your feet and support yourself fully, you stroll the garden with the princess as she reminisce about everything crossing both of your path.

"i, too, wanted to be trained in weapons and self defense, but father said it wasn't suitable for someone like me. he would always take me out to the garden instead, in hope i'd develop a liking for it just so he didn't have to deal with the persistence. and i did... i did blossomed a love for gardening."

you scowl at the revelation.

"well, that's not right."

"it's not, but it was my father's order. he was a stubborn man and didn't like to listen to anyone. i wish i could say i saw anything else for father's ending."

both the prince and princess seems to share a mutual feeling regarding the father figure. though they understand the deeply flawed king, it's hard and conflicting when it's your own father.

"brother taught me what he could, which wasn't always possible because father was always around. but san is a good person... despite the amount of pressure father put on him, i believe he would be a great king. better than father himself."

a smile cross your lips at the mention of san.

"i believe he would be a great king, too," you add. you know he will be, and you wish for nothing more than all his dreams to come true.

"brother san seems to have taken a great liking to you," the princess brings up, recalling the signs and body language of her younger brother when he was with you despite your sleeping state and lack of awareness.

an act of affection and fondness she has never seen the prince give anyone before. not even the noble daughters that would show for events.

"oh, no," you deny, shaking your head, but the way your stomach swoops at the statement is real.

"why not?" she tilts her head, a brow raising. "do you not like him?"

"no--i mean, i do. i like the prince as a friend, but anything more than that would be innappropriate, i think." your volume tapers and your eyes shy away from hers, but the soft giggle makes you snap back.

"love is a beautiful thing. you shouldn't run from it, no matter the class difference or adversities. i know my brother wouldn't."

she smiles and pat your shoulder, abruptly taking your hand and leading the way out of the garden.

"so tell me, did you know that the kingdom didn't used to be divided into districts?"

you hum from behind, "actually, i do. i read it in an old history book i found back at the orphanage."

the kingdom used to just be utopia as a whole. no divisions of anything or labels to anyone. but when the capital found out they could cheat the system and hog all resources and supplies by dividing up the nation, the district system was implemented.

and those who lived furthest from the capital suffered the worst due to change, which was why the fifth district, a once fine ground for fishermen and access to the sea, declined overtime due to the lack of available care.

"yes," she mumbles, letting go of your hand and turning around, your feet screeching with the sudden stop. "brother wishes to abolish the system, after mostly everything gets taken care of, of course. by then, none of this 'social class' would matter as much."

you know she means it from the good of her heart; soul just as kind as her brother, but it is not only the struggle of being a fifth district kid, but also the reality of being a no one as compared to a prince.

--

you get accustomed to the newer routine, waking up the crack of dawn to go help the princess prepare breakfast the best your healing body can. just the smallest, throbbing pinch still there when you sit up, but you're fine nonetheless.

the morning when the sun hasn't even shown its head yet, your body still tired and mind hazy, the opening of the door gets a silent groan out of you as you turn to the source expecting the princess to have something for you so early.

but the sight jolts you from sleep, and you know that it's him, even in the faintest lighting.

"good morning," his voice like velvet has you sitting up, your gaze trained on him the entire time he goes to take a seat at the stool.

"good morning, prince," you return, the smallest amount of joy hiding in your delivery because you really are so happy to see him again.

he went back to the princely attire coloured in white, and his hair a slicked back kind that makes him so handsome, although some strands are loose and slightly messy from the many days gone by.

"san," he corrects you, the sound of his actual name so much better when you say it.

"san," you repeat, a short giggle after that he joins along. "so you're back already. how did it go?"

your expression changing to stern that instant, if you stare at him any longer, you might just burn a hole from how serious you are.

"a lot better than i expected," he answers, a thin smile on as he scoots closer. "i really owe it to the king and prince of aurora. if they hadn't took pity in me, i don't know what else i would've done. but for some reason, they chose to believe in me, and i really am so grateful for that."

he must've been so scared but unwilling to show it. unwilling to give away the fear that the kingdom in his hand is so close to crumbling down by a mere inch, everything could fall apart just like that.

but he had to persist through the hardships and doubts; masking any weaknesses because it would scare away the people if he did. if the ruler of the kingdom itself barely has any faith in the situation.

you reach for his hand, the stronge urge to comfort him as the soft look on you melt into his.

"san, they believe in you because they can see that you're capable. and i believe as well, that you from now on, you will make utopia a better place for the people."

he thinks that you always have such a way with words; how they always make him feel so warm and at ease every time. it's never felt so easy with anyone before.

"y/n," he calls almost in a whisper, taking his hands out of your grasp to now enclose yours. "i apologize for not visiting you. but as soon as i returned and had cleared everyhing with the royals of aurora, i came to you immediately."

"no. it's okay. you have a duty as the prince of the nation, i totally understand. there's no need to apologize."

you can feel his grip on you getting tighter, his eyes a type of desperate but also affectionate.

"but still, you saved my life. you traded yours for mine. to me, you're just as important."

you're surprise by the confession, an array of butterflies dancing in the pit of your stomach and you can see the prince growing more tense, but nonetheless, he persists.

"before i go any further, can i ask you one question first?"

you nod at that. "go ahead."

"you and jongho..." he starts, only to thin out before trying again, "are you guys... dating? or, well, do you like him?"

he's nervous and if he wasn't holding you, he would probably start fidgeting to hide the fact.

"me and jongho?" you quirk an eyebrow, failing to hold back the snicker from the thought while the prince just stares dumbfoundedly.

"i love jongho, but he's more like family than anything. we've been through a lot together but i can't see him in that light."

you've given similar answers out a couple times, especially to the other servants who thought you both had a crush on each other.

the prince's chest drop in relief and you can't hide the amusement you get from it.

"what? you thought me and jongho had something?" you can't stop giggling.

"well, i just had to make sure," he says, a hint of embarrassed and shy that is incredibly cute.

he wouldn't tell you that the one time he actually decided to come in the midst of everything, jongho was already by your side and if you didn't look so happy, he wouldn't have went back because he could tell jongho is someone special to you.

"so?" you await what he has to say, the eagerness only making him more nervous.

the grip on you loosening up to a more softer but more intimate one, one of his thumb running over your hand before he speaks.

"i know this might be too sudden and we haven't known each other for long, but, if your heart isn't taken by anyone, i'd like to ask for a vow."

you just stare ahead and wait for him to finish the sentence, your heart beating exceptionally loud.

"i understand it's a bit abrupt, but... i-i've never felt this way with anybody else. there's something special when i'm you, and i'd like to ask for a vow; a promise that we'll reserve our hearts for each other."

he's so scared, willing to take the chance at first because he will regret it if he doesn't. but now, he's afraid he might've ruined whatever he had with you in the first place, retracting immediately when there's only silence from you.

"but it's not an obligation. you don't have to. i'm just--"

"--i would love to," you cut, watching the panic on his face dissipate that instant.

"really?"

"yes. i would love to," you assure once again, the thinnest smile crossing your lips that soon turns bigger when he returns one.

he's absolutely over the moon to know the feeling is mutual; that what he felt and got from the time together wasn't just because you were compelled to treat him equal to his title.

that something more came out of it.

"but..." you mumble, the smile fading when reality sets in again. "is this going to be okay? you're a prince, and i'm just... me."

"of course it's going to be okay. i don't care who or what you are," he comforts, delivery incredibly passionate, you can't fight it. "but more importantly, before you give me your words once and for all, i need to know if you'll be okay with the conditions first. you can be honest. i won't be upset because i would never try to hold you back regarding anything."

"i'm listening," you acknowledge.

"the citizens of utopia have decided to give me a chance. that chance is not only to salvage the nation, but to also prove to them that i'm capable of leading and won't repeat the same mistakes those who came before we did. i don't know how long it's going to take; specifically how many years. but i will crack down on any remaining harmful outlaw members, i will be traveling in and out of the kingdom a lot, and i will be working on making this nation a better place for everyone. that is something i promised to do, and i will do just that."

he takes a deep breath and start again, eyes on yours. "so if you don't want to wait, i won't hold it against you. if there's things or someone better out there waiting for you, you don't have to accept my proposal. but just if you do... if you're willing to wait for me, once the nation is in a stable state and i don't have to stress too much about being all over the place, i promise then, that i will ask for your hand in marriage."

the bold declaration does take you by surprise, hard to grasp that the prince of all people would want to marry you.

"i know it's a lot to take in," he says, "but you don't have to give me an answer now. whenever you're ready."

you shake your head.

"no--i mean, i would love to. no matter how long i have to wait, i think it'll be worth it. after all, the nation is your priority and the people needs you."

he's taken aback by how fast you made up your mind, but overjoy that you want it just as much as he does. he can't be any happier.

"you're sure you want to do this?" he asks again just to be sure, but crossing his fingers you don't just so happen to change your mind.

you nod earnestly.

"i'm sure. besides, i doubt any guy would ever be interested in me let alone want to get married."

he chuckles, a sound you can to listen all day.

"even if they are, they can't get you now. so i don't want to see any of them trying to woo you or something. and you can't give in because you already gave me your words."

it's your turn to laugh, the jealousy endearing on him.

"well how would i know you'll keep your words, too? what if i wait and wait until i'm a grandma with grey hair only for you to take it back? marry someone else instead and say you don't want me anymore?" you tease.

"tskk," he sneer, "that won't happen, because i would never promise anything i knew i couldn't do. so you don't have to worry."

a reassuring smile spreads across his lips as so does yours, seconds passing by when the silence consumes the room and the both of you just stare at each other, completely smitten.

you notice the slightly fallen strands covering his eyes, going to move it with your finger but your hand stopping at his cheek after, a staring contest ensuing before something comes over you, leaning over to deliver a kiss to his other cheek.

when you pull back, the shy and flustered reaction of the prince brings another giggle out from you.

"i believe you, then. go and show everyone that they made the right choice in giving you a chance. go and make the nation a better place for the citizens. no matter how long, when you come back, i'll be right here... for you."

age 20:

you're twenty years old when the district system is abolished, and when you're nearing twenty-one, it will have been a year since you've spoken to the prince, and will be a few months that you've last seen jongho.

he had been given an opportunity to stay at the castle as one of the prince's permanent companions and took it.

as for you, you moved back to what used to be the fifth district, your heart and soul still full of regard for the place no matter how far you run because every last memory of your parents are rooted here.

you didn't want and couldn't ask for anything in return for the loyalty to the royal family during their toughest time, only taking the coins they had kindly insisted on giving and proceeded to find somewhere to settle. make a life for yourself.

the first few months after declaration of adjustments were as tough for anyone else as it was for you. no matter how positive of an effect, changes are always difficult.

the nobles having to reclaim their homes again after migrating from fear of the outlaws; the party finally retreating, and the former having to piece everything back together with the thought in mind that everything won't be the same, but it will be fair.

the lower districts benefitting the most from the changes but time is their biggest adversary, because though good things are coming, they're not going to come in an instant. having to wait days, months, years, for the full glory to show can be defeating.

but nevertheless, it's coming, and tomorrow will be better than yesterday and so forth. a year later and you can already notice the difference, especially the sea that once gave up on the nation ready to ripple once more.

where you're currently at, you couldn't have done it without the help of those around you. hongjoong who gave you full rights to his hideout in the fifth district because he won't have the use for it anymore, having also been promoted to work alongside the prince.

and with the coins the royal family gave you, you put it into materials to hone the skill you're best at, now finally making a living off sewing and embroidery.

over the year, you've renovated the small shack to your liking with the knowledge you carried from your father, building something for yourself you can call home.

you can still recall that feeling; the first sinking realization of being alone and the taste of freedom. you no longer belonged to somebody or owed anything to anyone. no longer the poor kid just waiting for a better life.

you were your own person, and it feels amazing to be free, though you think it would be even better if he was there.

the thought of him crossing your mind every couple of days, wishing for nothing but only the best for him, hopeful that one day, he will return to fulfill the promise.

"those are some fine handkerchiefs you have there," a young man's voice stops you, spinning around to greet him with a smile.

"you crafted them yourself?" he asks, his tone a type of mischievious that you don't even read into.

"yes," you simply reply, always putting on your best behavior when there's a possible customer. "would you like to take a look at them for yourself?"

"i'd love to."

you untangle the basket from your arm and start going through the many fabrics of your creation.

"wow. not only is the creator herself beautiful, but so are the creations. i've never seen these kind of patterns before," he comments, a smirk on that is both amused and flirty, you can't help the way your cheeks immediately reddens.

the man only seems to find the sight even more endearing as a snicker bubbles out of him while you're still just standing there because you've never met someone so shameless before.

you're about to say something when an arm is thrown around your shoulders instead, turning to the source and your body an immediate mix of relieved, joy, and a skipping heartbeat.

"san..." you say by natural instinct, his unreadable expression meeting yours before moving to the young man in front.

"i'm sorry, i told her to not go wandering by herself but she wouldn't listen. let's go back, honey."

he snatches the basket out of your hold with his other hand and hauls you back the other way.

"i've only been gone for a year and you're already flirting with another man?" he accuses once you're able to flee from his clutch, his steps following right behind you as a pout overtakes his face.

"i wasn't flirting. i was trying to make money," you weakly defend, focus on the path back to your place that you believe the word 'cottage' would be more fitting for.

"you're way too beautiful and talented to be out there spending your days talking to young men."

"pfft," you blow, "and you're way too handsome and princely to be traveling everywhere and going to other kingdoms in the presence of other noble and royal daughters."

"and i'd still choose you, baby."

your heels dig the dirt flooring, snapping around from the pet name, a laughter at the verge of coming out.

san can see the amusement on your face, only smirking in response.

"what? i know you like being called that."

this time, you really do laugh and he follows right after, absolutely in love with everything about you. whether that's snarking back or laughing at him.

"whatever you say, prince," you poke more fun at him before dragging him by the wrist into your place.

"cute what you've done," he pass a comment while you put the basket away.

"yes. and i have just about everything i need."

it's just a little bigger than the hideout back at what used to be the third district, but it has the same convenience in that it's close to the river, cutting out trips to the bathhouse which saves a lot of time.

he nods, the dimpled smile never leaving his face.

"so... what brings you here?" you eventually ask, sitting next to him on your bed, the atmosphere shifting because despite enjoying the banter and mischief of it all, you miss him and haven't seen him in over a year.

"we just returned and arrived at the port this morning, so i wanted to come visit and see how you're doing. you know, to make sure no one was trying to sweep you off by your feet."

you playfully land a slap to his shoulder, snickering.

"you're ridiculous. all year long and my love life is so dry, but the one day someone acknowledges me, you just have to come back," you reply with sarcasm.

"i'm sorry to ruin that for you, but you can't take it back. you promised to marry me, and i will make sure every guy in the kingdom knows that."

you remember the first time meeting san, his state of grief making him almost an entirely different person. quiet, stoic, and always in distress, it's the most wonderful surprise that he's actually a child at heart.

able to let loose once in a while and just have fun.

"no need to. you won't have any competitions at all."

he chuckles quietly at that and closes any remaining distance between you two.

"you speak too lowly of yourself when you're the most beautiful girl i've ever seen."

you bat your eyelashes, shying away from his gaze. you just blush way too easy.

he chuckles at the sight and moves the subject along, "but i also came because i have good news. the king and prince mingi of dune have agreed to a treaty."

"really? t-that's great!" you stumble your wording, beyond happy for him because this was everything he wanted and planned for.

"yeah. it wasn't easy but the fact we have aurora did most of the convincing. dune was... interesting to say the least," he says, briefly recalling the month he spent at the kingdom.

"you did it, though" you smile. "it's only going to get better from now on."

"i hope so. but it seems the real challenge just began. this place is going to need a lot of work."

"that, it is. but for now, you just need to relax. rest a little and eat if you already haven't. i can make you some soup, would you like that?"

he nods.

"i would love that."

he loves how comfortale and easy it is with you. when the weight on his shoulders gets too heavy, he can always rely on you to make it better, even if just for a bit.

--

"so where do i sleep?" he asks, walking back in after washing himself by the river with the towel you gave him.

the day had been nothing short of a dream, eating and cleaning together and just small exchanges that multiplies the butterflies in your stomach.

you wish everyday was like this.

"the floor," you joke, the response making him scowl.

"i'm carrying the nation on my back and you're gonna make me sleep on the floor?" he throws the towel over his shoulder, his wet strands of hair swaying along with his movements.

"that bed looks big enough for the two of us." he points with his chin. "besides, we're gonna get married anyways."

you roll your eyes, snatching the towel from him as you go to ruffle his wet hair with it, his shout of protests underneath coming out muffled.

"fine." you land the fabric back around his neck, crawling into bed and scooting to the wall to make space.

he lays down and faces you, your gaze burning into each other's when he cranks out a smile.

"i'll be leaving in the morning and you might not see me again for a while after. don't you think you should give me something to remember you by?"

your brows furrow, your mind jumping to conclusion considering the position you guys are in and the tone in which he said it.

"i'm not gonna have sex with you," you spit, prompting the loudest laughter ever from him, followed by confusion from you.

"no, of course not. i was talking about another of your handkerchiefs."

"oh..." you murmur, feeling embarrassed.

"not until we get married at least. then, we can do it," he states with confidence, the thought of taking you to bed and inserting control another way is tempting, and he can't wait for the day.

you smack his chest lightly, as flustered as you are, you can't help the giggle that slips out.

a few seconds of silence pass by before he starts moving closer, his breath ghosting your skin and finger going to caress your cheek.

"i really do want to kiss you right now, though," he confess, "if that's okay with you."

you nod as much as your pillowed head allows you to.

"that's okay with me."

you close your eyes shut, trying to keep from flinching as you await his kiss, moments later only for his lips to crash against yours, his hand moving to your jaw and his body pressing forward as the kiss deepens.

you kiss him like it's the last kiss between you and him; like your life depends on it, the bed creaking under as he takes it upon himself to connect your bodies.

he pulls back much to your disappointment, both of your chests heaving and trying to catch your breath, his forehead bumped with yours and tip of his nose brushing your own.

"good enough," he speaks, his breath still not yet returned, "any more than this and i might not be able to contain myself."

you giggle, placing a soft peck on his cheek, flashing one last smile.

"goodnight, prince."

--

"have a safe trip, and take care of yourself," you bless, blue in your heart as san makes his way back to you after speaking to the coachman.

all the laughters and butterflies of yesterday won't be experienced again until who knows how long. he will be away after this, and you will miss him dearly.

you wish he could stay but you know he can't. he has something bigger and better to worry about.

he stops before you, melancholy in his eyes as well. he doesn't want to leave you but he has to. and as much as he wants to take you along, he can't let you bear the same responsibilities and weight.

he wants for you to be there, when he already made everything better.

"you take care of yourself, too." his hands naturally finding itself cupping your cheeks. "don't overwork yourself."

"i won't."

you place your own hands over his, desperate to salvage his touch for one last time.

"when can i expect to see you again?" you ask.

"i don't have a definite answer, but i'll be back. i promise."

you two share one last kiss before you watch him go off, blue still in your heart, but you know that someday, he'll come back, and it will be to stay.

age 23:

you're twenty-three years old when there's a knock at the door one suspicious morning.

living in the middle of nowhere, and even over the years, you're only able to count on one hand the range of selection there is when it comes to who it could be.

"hongjoong?" you squint, the man you haven't seen in forever looking slightly more buffed; mature, his hair styled and attire new and shiny.

"great seeing you again," he greets, still on horseback and glancing down at you.

"would you like to come inside? for some tea or a drink?" you ask, figuring it's only proper etiquette you do.

"i'm good. i only came to deliver something."

you continue squinting, one hand shielding your eyes from the early sun, reaching out when hongjoong hands you a letter and unfolding it.

"an invitation from the prince?" you read, incredulity as you shoot up to look at him.

"yes. the prince is finally accepting his accession to king and the coronation will be held a week from now. that is all i have for today. i have to head back soon."

you have so many more questions but hongjoong already turns his back before you can ask them, settling for staring at the ink in awe when the sound of his voice picks your head up again.

"i hope to see you there. the prince will be expecting you."

--

you leave for the capital the following day, packing only essentials and enough coins, taking along pearl, the white horse you had purchased a year back for traveling purposes.

there's been a lot changes in the four years since san took the reign, all of them for the better, of course.

some of the homes have been revamped, some new ones added, and everywhere you passed, there are greens and beauty in each sceneries.

the citizens look happier, kids a lot less miserable and even those in the orphanages are coming around to the new implements along with those in progress to solve overcrowding.

members of the outlaws have dwindled over time and quieted.

for the first time in hundreds of years, utopia is able to live up to its name in some form; a place of ideal perfection.

so you couldn't fret too much; be upset that in the three years that have passed, san's only visited you once. because if it wasn't for him, the nation wouldn't have been able to achieve the current state.

you travel to the capital with hope, expectation, and excitement at the fact you will be seeing him again; a strong belief that everything will feel just the same as last time.

you stop at inns to rest when the nights fall and start again at dawn, reaching the destination in five days total, the day before san's coronation.

there isn't any difference to the castle, not even a bit. a touch of nostalgia hitting you when thinking back to the event four years ago.

entrance is easy to get through, showing both of the guards who seems to recognize you, the letter.

tying your horse to the nearest tree, you proceed to the door with a pounding heart, banging on it twice before the castle door creaks from the other side, absolutely no idea who the person could be.

"y/n!"

your eyes widen at the sight, that nervousness replaced by delight.

"jongho!"

before he can get another word out, you're already in his arms, the warmth of your best friend something you missed greatly in the full year you haven't seen him.

you can him hear giggling in your hair, pulling away to that goofy smile of his as one settles on your lips as well.

"you came," he simply says.

"of course i did."

jongho takes you inside, your nosy eyes wandering the interior that's also the same as before but still dazzling with all its history, cracks in some of the wall, and antiques.

you greet the queen and the princess who only gets more beautiful by the years, them welcoming you with warm smiles and you can tell immediately the new changes other than their appearances.

they sound happier; no other burdens or weight pulling them down, carrying it around like a haunting that won't go away.

you walk around the courtyard with jongho after, finally a time and place to catch up. all those time of being with each other, you didn't think you could survive if he wasn't by your side, but to have gone four long years only seeing him once in a blue moon, you'd say that's some character development.

"how are things here for you?" you ask him, walking alongside shoulder to shoulder.

"amazing," he answers almost instantly, "it's crazy. i never thought i'd get the chance to work in the capital, but the royal family's castle? with the prince? it's everything i've ever wanted."

you can't stop smiling, his tone telling of just how much he means what he just said.

"that's great. i'm happy for you. you did always say you wanted all those training to go into something."

he nods.

"and you? how are things down there?"

"much better. it's coming together. the people's the most tame i've ever seen them."

jongho hums in acknowledgement.

"i heard you're going to become queen," he suddenly brings up, and you almost choke in return.

"and who the hell said that?"

"--i did."

the familiar voice that isn't jongho makes the both of you turn around, your stomach dropping and heart palpitating because you know all too well who it belongs to.

you can only stare breathless as he takes a step closer, your throat dry.

he's just as mesmerizing as you remember but like hongjoong, time have passed and he has gotten more bulky, manly, and handsome if that's even possible.

"i'm glad to see you can come," he mumbles, a charming smile on that render your knees weak.

jongho clears his throat, attempting to hide a smirk as he goes to excuse himself politely and walks back inside, leaving you stranded in the presence of san.

everything still feels the same with him.

"yeah. i got the letter," you reply, glancing around the empty area, "though it seems i might have gotten a tad excited."

he snickers, and oh... how you have missed the sound.

"you're the only one i gave a personal invitation to," he unveils.

"oh." your eyes swell, only to break the tension after. "then i guess i'm special."

"you are," he assures, closing the distance and taking one of your hand. "i have promised you that once utopia is stable enough, i will ask for your hand in marriage."

you watch as he goes to pull something out of the pocket of his suit, one of his knees pointed to the ground, his entire body falling with it.

"and now that i've finally reached that goal... y/n, will you marry me?"

it takes a moment for you to process everything, overwhelmed with joy and happiness before you can properly nod.

"yes. of course."

and he will marry you, after the rise to king and acceptance of his title as the ruler of utopia, keeping the promise just as he did to every others.

permanent taglist: @moonchele

a/n: not me talking shit abt wanting broken era to be over only to go & write a 19k oneshot. but i loved writing this & had a lot of fun bc it was v different from what i'd usually write

#i don't know shit abt politics #so go easy #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #choi san x reader #san x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines

[luveline]

maybe like a couple weeks after their first date he runs into r again & roan gets excited

thank you for your request! eddie and roan —single dad!eddie and his daughter roan bump into you at the store and make your intentions clear to one another. fem!reader, 2k

Eddie has biceps of steel from the last few years of constant carrying. Roan doesn't tire him out quickly anymore; he can carry her from the car to the store and back again without aching. It's the lack of hands for lifting things that pose a problem. 

Every time he comes to the store he swears he's just gonna grab the one thing he came in for, and every time he ends up with a basket full of stuff he's been meaning to get for the last week or two, bandaids and dish detergent, Roan's favourite cookies because she's been a sweetheart this week even if they're three times as expensive as the okay ones, and even if it all makes the basket heavy as a bowling ball.

"You'll have to go down, you're slipping," he says to her. 

Roan is regretfully exhausted today, and doesn't like the sound of this at all. "I don't want to walk," she mumbles. 

"I know, sweetheart. Just for a bit." He plops her down on two feet, the burn in his arms mitigating slightly. "There we go. If you be a good girl for me we can get a big bag of candy, okay?" 

"You promise?" she asks. 

Her little voice makes it impossible to disappoint her. "I promise. You can still hold my hand if you need to." 

She holds his hand for a little while. The last things on Eddie's list are actually the first things, the only things he'd come in for —socks for both of them. He noticed that pretty much all of his are out of commission, and Roan's get lost in the washer every other day. 

Roan chooses to roam free, but she's learned her lesson since his last heart attack and doesn't wander. Eddie refuses to give her an opportunity, watching her like a hawk. It's why he doesn't notice you at first standing in front of the pyjamas feeling the soft fabrics between your fingers. 

Roan skips back to his side. "Daddy, look," she implores, pointing. 

Eddie picks up a packet of socks. "Two seconds." 

"Look! Look!" she insists. 

Eddie tosses the socks in the basket with all the enthusiasm of someone who's been in work for seven and a half hours. "What, babe?" 

You've stepped a couple of paces closer, waving at him when he notices you with your endearing, awkward smile. 

"Hello, Munsons," you say, in a way that Eddie takes for the shyness of going out with someone and an obvious delight to see them. 

"Hey," he says, in the same shy-delighted combo. 

Roan giggles infectiously and bounds forward to your legs. You hold your shopping basket out of the way. "Hey, princess! Wow, look at you! This is a pretty dress. Purple's your colour." 

Roan rubs her cheek into your thigh. "Hi," she drags out. 

"I'd pick you up, but my hands are full," you say. Basket in one hand, keys in the other, you've done the same as Eddie by the looks of things, come in for a quick stop and got distracted. "It's so nice to see you, it's been a whole week!" 

Eddie tucks his hair behind his ear. "I meant to call you back last night, I'm sorry. I put her to bed and totally forgot." 

Thankfully, you don't hold it against him. If anything, his apology brings an even bigger smile to your face. 

"That's okay, handsome." Eddie has to physically hide his pleasure, hand behind his head to scratch at his neck bashfully. "That's just fine, I wasn't worried. I mean, unless I should be worried?" 

"Definitely don't be worried," he begs. 

Five dates, one of which at his trailer, and a countless number of phone calls between, Eddie's confident that this might go someplace good. He's a wuss, though, for not having kissed you yet. He's trying to be a gentleman (he's scared shitless that he's forgotten how to do it right, and he likes you so much, he really wants to do it right). 

"Then I'm not worried," you say, rubbing Roan's little shoulders with your pinky and marriage finger, careful not to rake your keys over her shoulder blade. 

"We're getting, uh– the big candy," Roan says. 

"Yeah? The movie size bags? Your dad is so nice, every time we talk he's bought you something." 

"He's so nice," Roan agrees clumsily. 

Eddie shakes his head, "No, it's just my job." 

You send him a fond look. "I can't pretend that I know how to do it, but if you asked me, I'd say you were, like, creme of the crop, you know? It's amazing." 

Eddie takes that for encouragement. While Roan is busy pressed to your thighs adoringly, he juggles his basket into the other arm for want of something to do while he says, "Wayne offered to take Roan for the night this Friday if I wanted to make plans. Do you– would you be free? We could see a movie." 

"I would be, and if I wasn't I'd make myself free," you say. 

Eddie really, really likes that about you —you're honest. You don't play mind games. He figures it wouldn't work in your favour anyhow, considering you'd asked him out first, but he still appreciates it. It's nice to feel wanted. 

He really needs to kiss you, he thinks. If the moments right, at the movies, maybe he can hit you with the classic yawning faux play and wrap an arm around your shoulders. 

"You know I don't mind if Roan comes, right?" you ask. 

"I know, but– I kind of wanna focus on you, yeah? It drives me crazy wanting to get to know everything about you and having to wait until the next time we see each other." 

"Well," —you look down at Roan, shyness cropping up once more— "I'm not seeing anybody else. It's only you. I really love telling you things, and I'd love to go out with you, just us." You give Roan a blinding smile. "But I'll miss you, princess." 

Roan whines with her arms raised. You put your basket down on the ground and crouch to accept a hug that turns to a clinging, Roan's legs wrapping around your waist as you perch your head over her shoulder. 

"I'm not seeing anybody else, either," Eddie says. 

You pat Roan's back. "Awesome." 

Are you exclusive? Just like that? Eddie doesn't think that's how being someone's boyfriend goes, but it's a start. He'll ask you properly just as soon as he knows you enjoy being kissed by him, he decides. 

"Ice cream?" Roan asks you desperately. 

"Oh, sweetheart, I wish I could. We'll go again soon, okay? That was really fun, watching them scoop the ice cream together. I loved that." 

"Please?" Roan asks. 

You throw Eddie a save-me look. 

"Big candy tonight, and then maybe we can get ice cream another day," he suggests. "We gotta go home to make sure Rufus ate his chicken, remember?" 

"Will you come?" Roan asks you. Her voice wavers with a hopefulness that breaks Eddie's heart, honest to God. 

She just wants to be loved by you. She adores you. She has from the very moment you met, how you'd fawned at her, called her pretty, she chases that feeling almost like Eddie chases your attentions. 

He looks at you and he thinks, Fuck, she's good. Pretty, absolutely. Earnest? To a fault. His track record for reading people's intentions is awful, but he believes without a shadow of a doubt that you're someone worth fighting for. 

He decides to lay it on thick. More is more with you. 

"Y/N can't come with us tonight, baby, she has things to do. See how pretty she looks? She has somewhere she needs to go tonight." 

You fluster visibly, managing to follow his white lie by the skin of your teeth. "I'm sorry, I do have somewhere I need to go. But I'm just so excited to hang out with you and daddy again like we did last week, I had lots of fun."

"And she'll dress like a princess again next time, yeah?" Eddie adds encouragingly. 

"I will," you say.

He was supposed to meet you at a nice restaurant for dinner when his sitter cancelled on him last minute. Without qualm, you'd grabbed a bag of Chinese takeout and arrived at the trailer, everything about you working to drop his jaw clean out. Your hair, your split skirt, the way you'd taken Roan into your lap and fanned her face with a fabric fan and cood as her baby hairs blew in the breeze. Princess is the exact right word for how you'd been. 

Eddie has more than a crush's worth of affection for you. He's kind of crazy about you, actually. Roan is the same. 

"A princess?" she asks. 

You nod slowly. "I swear. If you want, I can bring over a little bit of my makeup and we can match. Does that sound okay, dad?" 

He's thankful for you turning the authority over to him. It makes it much easier to convince Roan to do as he asks tonight without a tantrum. 

"Sounds perfect." 

"Okay. Can I give you a kiss on the cheek to say goodbye?" you ask an ecstatic Roan. 

She lifts her head for kissing. You brush her hair from her face and peck her round cheek as she begins the process of detangling herself from your torso. 

You groan as you stand from a crouch and pick your basket up again. His jaw tenses of its own accord, your perfume sudden and encompassing as you step forward to say goodbye to him. 

"I'll see you on Friday, yes?" you ask, face craned upward ever so slightly. 

He's not sure he can wait that long. "Yeah, I'll call you?" 

"Tonight?" you ask. 

"Yeah, tonight. Whenever you want." 

"I want tonight, if that's okay," you say.

Eddie squeezes your arm. He thinks it's a lame move until your smile somehow grows. "I'll call you as soon as I get home." 

You nod, pleased. With a sweet goodbye wave to Roan, and a kiss so quick to his cheek that he's left wondering if he dreamed it, you and your basket dissappear around the corner toward the checkout. 

Roan looks up at him. Eddie grins. "She's nice, right?" 

"I love her," Roan says sagely. It's the same way that she says she loves cinnamon crunch cereal or her Dotty Dolly dolls, Eddie thinks, but it could easily turn to the same love she shows her Aunt Robin or numerous Uncles.

Hell, if you're as golden as you seem, Eddie would want her to love you as she loves Wayne, even as she loves Eddie himself. But that's miles down the line and much too much to be thinking about before a first kiss. (A proper one, and not a goodbye one, that is.) 

His cheek warm from your lips, Eddie feels suddenly reinvigorated. He shifts the basket into the crook of his elbow and swoops Roan into his arms with the gusto of a stronger man. 

"I like her, too," Eddie says. "I love you most of all. Forget one bag of candy, bubby, let's get three." 

Roan pulls at his shirt collar mindlessly, "Three of the– of the big ones, daddy?" 

"Yep. Three big ones all for me and you." 

His love for her is a whole lot bigger than three bags of candy, but it's a start. 

They make their way to the candy aisle. Roan recounts your appearance in clumsy wording, though lately she seems to be learning at a pace he can't keep up with. Every day she uses words he didn't know she knew, and better than that, her sentences have begun to stretch. Talking to her is the best way to move that along, so when she asks Eddie what he likes most about you, he talks for twenty whole minutes. 

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[howdoesagrapewrites]

Could you do both yandere hobie and pavitr x reader? Platonic or romantic, doesn’t matter really

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙢 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙈𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙖𝙞 / 𝘿𝙖𝙧𝙠 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙇𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣

Cw: lovesick!Hobie Brown x reader, lovesick!Pavitr Prabhakar x reader, murder, obsessive behavior

Notes: I didn't dive as deep in any of the scenarios because I didn't knew what you wanted, but you can always ask me to expand on a particular dynamic

>It's hard for me to see Hobie Brown as a yandere, he's a person that's against any form of control or unconsensual actions against someone, but it's not impossible

>We don't know what Hobie's canon event is, but his yandere nature could stem from it, being vulnerable and lost

>However, even as a yandere, he's extremely self aware and would prefer you never knew, he feels shameful about it, because even though his morals are a little fucked up in the eyes of the average citizen, he hates people who want to control others, who think they have some sort of authority over the people they love

>This goes harder if you're fem identifying because he feels the added layer of misogyny

>He has literally no problems killing people who wronged you, but he won't tell you. He won't deny it if you ask, but he doesn't go around bragging

>Most yanderes want to posses, protect or fuse with their darling, but Hobie just wants to have you close? He has all the characteristics of the previously mentioned, but his ultimate goal is uncertain, even to him, he's good having you around for now

>He's manipulative and certainly charming

>He's as equally as likely to become yandere for a platonic or a romantic bond, if you're close enough with him, it doesn't matter what kind of relationship you have

>I already touched on yandere Pavitr here, so I'll focus on how he'd work with Hobie

>In a poly relationship case, it's very confusing to you. On one hand you have cool, collected Hobie who seems to be always analyzing you, teasing you and wanting to see your flustered face

>And then there's clingy, desperate, sweet and openly whipped Pavitr, who who's always glued to you and whispering sweet nothings, also wanting to see your flustered face

>Pavitr is overly enthusiastic about both of you, but tends to go to you, since Hobie returns his affections lazily and prefers making out over cuddling

>Pavitr doesn't exactly agree with what Hobie does to people that mistreat you, but he loves him and accepts the violence as part of him, and if he's honest, sometimes he wants to do the same

>Hobie knows Pavitr can be a lot and sometimes you want personal space, but he's a sadistic little shit, so he encourages you to either voice what you want, or encourages Pavitr to keep doing it

>Your relationship with these two would be a roller coaster

>If they're both yandere in a platonic way, Pavitr wouldn't be as intense, but he'd still be pretty overbearing with protecting you, he may not be attached at your hip 25/8 but he's not letting you out of sight, why do you want that? You want to get hurt?

>He's like a worried mother hen

>If you get a partner or become close with someone, he's stalking them for some time before he can trust them

>Hobie is a like a cool older brother who's secretly a psycho

>It looks like he's just being nice and looking out for you, but you have no idea how many bodies he has left rotting in dark alleys the past few months

>If you get a partner or become close to someone, he never trusts them, but he doesn't interfere unless is serious, his signature style is making you think you actually have agency

> What you don't know, is that in a romantic setting, Pavitr is far more scary than Hobie at his worst

#atsv x reader #hobie brown atsv #hobie brown x reader #yandere spiderverse #yandere pavitr #yandere hobie brown #spiderpunk x reader #yandere spiderpunk #yandere Pavitr Prabhakar

[enderwoah]

fresh new watcher/listener headcanon: they do better when the opposite sense is completely taken out of the picture

like u give a watcher noise-cancelling headphones and suddenly they gain a +14 to perception, they see Every Detail and can see up to like a billion miles away from where they're standing, everything that makes up everything down to the molecule if they squint, in a fight they're so good at tracking how their opponent swings and makes the smallest, most minute of eye movements that it basically looks like they're predicting their opponent's movements just from analysing what they're already doing down to an insane degree. all you gotta do to make a listener unable to hear you is, well, not talk. that aint gonna work here. you're communicating through body language and overly-expressive looks? the watchers read it like its (very literally) its own language. reading lips is a breeze. passing notes in the back of the class ain't gonna work here.

on the other hand, give a listener a blindfold and they become acutely aware of the Exact BPM of Everyone Within A Billion Mile Radius. watchers, when they are not using their ability to literally see everything everywhere all at once, can be hidden from. you plant yourself behind a big enough tree and you're damn near invisible. hiding from a listener in this state is impossible. both literally and figuratively- give a listener a blindfold and make 'em interrogate someone, they're able to hear every vocal inflection, every hesitation, every cutoff, and will probably instantly know whether youre lying or not. their fighting style becomes completely reactive- with a fast enough reaction time (and lets be real theyre mildly immortal pseudo-gods, their reaction time is fast enough) they can hear the sound of an arrow cutting through the air and dodge it without even looking. they can catch blades on their own weapons and are the master of side-stepping out of the way when someone tries to stab them from behind like the cool kids they are

i feel like if you pitted them in a fight against each other, they'd be insufferable to one another but absolutely enthralling to watch from the outside. i'd like to think that watchers are very formal, since they have that whole lawful evil type nonsense going on, so the way they fight is very by-the-books, won't break rules, fights like they're being scored type beat. on the other hand, listeners are, again, purely reactive. they are impulse-driven chaos mongerers, and thus they fight dirty. below the belt? low-hanging fruit? sounds good to them. they'd go for an easy shot in the Nether region, if you know what i mean (jimmy and grian are exceptions; they purposely act the opposite of what they're meant to because they're sort of just Like That tbh)

but yeah, they'd be SO annoying to one another. the watcher keeps having to parry the listener's bs blows (which annoys the listener to no end because the POINT of those shots is that you DON'T SEE THEM COMING!!), keeps trying to land hits but is evaded at the exact last second, probably on purpose just to make the watcher mad. like, the listener hears the sword coming at them from a mile away but doesn't dodge until the last possible moment just so the watcher can see how small a distance they missed by. but then the listener tries to make shots of their own and they're blocked halfway through the swing. the listener barely even comes close to hitting them because the watcher is predicting the damn future or something stupid like that, making it impossible for them to do anything unless they move like an absolute maniac so the watcher can't predict them. similarly, the only way the watcher can land anything is by exclusively using fake-outs, which just feels wrong.

honestly, i'm imagining a spar between martyn and pearl like this. they're so silly i think they would lightheartedly get on each other's nerves in this way until the fight is abruptly ended by pearl kicking martyn in the nether because yes, she fights by the rules, and it was a spar with no rules so. hey. fair game.

#this is absolutely a crackfic im going to write by the way #that last paragraph? yeah #it's just funny #limited life #evo smp #watchers #listeners #listener martyn #watcher pearl #watcher grian #listener jimmy #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood #pearlescentmoon #jimmy solidarity #solidaritygaming #grian #trafficblr

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Hello TBSkyen, I have a question for you. I myself am a person who's interested in making videos about art and posting them on youtube but have heard pretty much every youtuber I watch complain about youtube's unfair copyright system. So I would like to ask, how do you typically deal with that? What do I need to do to decrease the chance of a video getting claimed/struck? I know you don't have all the answers but I would like to hear the opinion of someone who has had to deal with this.

*deep breath born from long history of frustration*

Okay, so number one, you can't protect yourself fully from that. Anyone can file a copyright claim on anything you upload for any reason, they don't have to have evidence that they own the work being claimed, and all of the onus is on you to prove you didn't commit infringement by disputing the claims being made.

Which sucks.

It's a very frustrating thing to deal with, and it can make it nearly impossible to discuss certain properties or media because the owners (or a bunch of shitty grifters abusing the copyright system) will strike and claim anything and everything they can possibly identify.

Having said that, there are some tips and tricks. First, understand the principle of Fair Use (which is American law, and which is usually what you have to deal with on YouTube, but not always), which Casey Fiesler has a good video primer about here:

The broad strokes are that you can use as much as is needed to make a transformative point and then no more than that. The spirit of the law is that you can't use Fair Use to simply repost and profit off of other people's work, and the reality of how it's enforced is that bots scan YouTube for instances of videos using Too Much of the media they're protecting, and claim it as infringement.

So. If you're discussing any kind of video media - film, TV, animation, etc. - use clips of no more than 5-8 seconds of continuous footage, and do not use the original audio of the show unless it is necessary. You can sometimes get away with longer stretches of footage, but anything over 10 seconds is just begging for an automated copyright claim.

Shrink the footage down on screen and put a frame around it so it doesn't take up the entire screen, edit something on top of the footage like animations and other edits that transform the footage, maybe slow the footage down to a lower speed so that your video can't be construed as a meaningful replacement for watching the original media.

If you're discussing static art - comics, paintings, etc. - make sure to double check the copyright status on them, and keep in mind the principle of using what is needed to make a point and no more than that. If you discuss a manga or comic, be careful about simply showing whole pages unaltered on screen if it's not necessary. Show the panels or dialogue as you discuss it, but don't put whole pages or issues or chapters up on screen in sequence.

There are other tips and tricks and guidelines and hacks also, but if you're discussing any popular form of media you do have to be ready to have to fight a ton of spurious copyright claims on anything you do, especially if it gets views and becomes popular. It's a long process of filing disputes and waiting 30 days for them to get dropped before you can publish your video, it sucks.

#tb answers #youtube

[evieelyzabethh]

Love your work. <3 Could you write something with reader x spike where they're kinda' pining for one another, but one night he gets injured and has to stay over at her house? She patches him up and maybe offers him a bite? Doesn't have to be nsfw but +5 cool points if it is. <3

Hello, my loves, long time no see!!! I hope this is to your liking <3

Spike is so incredibly reckless. You knew this, he knew, everybody knew that Spike was a walking accident waiting to happen'. He likes to think he can handle himself. "I'm bad, baby," he'd tell you, "M' the big bad slayer killer. I can handle a few scratches." But you were never worried about what he could handle, you were worried about the fact that his blood was always staining your couch. That and the fact that his lack of self-preservation kept you up at night.

Usually, he has some decorum. He doesn't come to you with every scrape and bruise, even though you handled him with much more care than he was capable of extending to himself. It was his way of punishing himself, depriving himself of your head scratches and soft hands for bothering you too much. You scolded him for this, of course. It seems like its every other week (more like every other day) when you and he argue, most often in front of the Scoobies who waited anxiously for you take your arguments to the bedroom, about him leaving you to worry about whether or not he was ash.

"I mean, fuck Spike. Is it really that hard to just give me a call if you plan on bleeding at your place. A little 'Hi, yeah, I don't think I need my wounds treated with modern medicine, I'm gonna take my chances with old whisky and tetanus like the good ol' days'." And every time he takes his well-earned lecture with a smirk and a bowed head.

"Yes, mother, next time I'll break your door down at three in the morning for some pretty pink bandages."

"If you were so ashamed of the pretty pink bandages, maybe you should think before you run into knives!"

Spike has maybe told the truth a grand total of two times in his whole life, so his word means absolutely nothing. He continues to ignore your street like the plague unless it's an absolute emergency.

Now was an emergency.

You barely heard the faint knocks on your door from your bedroom, where you sat on your bed, music blasting from your stereo and some reality court show droning on in the background, catching your attention when someone decided to be particularly messy. You had thought it was your neighbors blind dog scratching at your door again until something large and loud hit it. Quickly arming yourself with a frying pan, you crept to your door, tearing it open for a very injured Spike to nearly fall flat on your floor before he caught himself using your doorframe.

His left hand clutched at his bleeding side and he walked with a limp over to his couch which now had a plastic cover. His dead heart was touched.

"Aw, you were waiting for me, " he croaked out. He fell on his back, one of his hands falling over the side and his eyes closing as soon as his head at the pillow. His shirt had claw marks that were lined with blood and his duster had barely escaped the carnage, a few holes separate from the preexisting moth holes sticky with some supernatural substance.

"Have to be prepared when it comes to you." You patted his cheek, thumbing over his cheekbones to try and arouse some consciousness. "Can't have you fallin' asleep on me. You might not wake up." You weren't going to leave his side until you were sure he wasn't going to die in your absence.

He babbled unintelligently, his mouth moving but having no connection to his brain to form any sort of actual thought. His eyes flit between closed and aware, his head moving to catch up with the spinning room, his mouth impossibly dry, and his head pounding. In his head, he insisted he was fine, but the words wouldn't come out right. He spat them out garbled and messy until he was too choked up to even try anymore.

He was barely conscious when he felt your wrist at his mouth. He had enough sense to shake his head and nudge away your wrist with his nose, but his lack of strength made his attempts futile. "No," he mumbled.

"You'll feel better," your voice swam around in his head until the words lost meaning and he just smiled at the sound of your voice. You swiped your thumb across one of his canines, the red contrasting with the pearly whites of his teeth swiftly wiped away by the pink of his tongue. After the taste of your blood was on his tongue, his sense was surrendered to instinct as he brought your wrist to his lips.

You didn't know what you were getting into. Vampires get their life force from blood, so it just made sense to have him feed from you to expedite the healing process. The more he drank, the louder your heartbeat grew in your ear and the closer he pulled you to him. You had only done this once before, when you were both drink and dizzy and jokes being whispered in your ear turned into tiny nips from your neck that Buffy nearly walked in on.

In complete shock of what had happened then, you never brought it up, halfway convincing yourself that it never happened in the first place. If it did happen, he had enough sense to pull away then and you hoped he had the sense the pull away now, but now was much different. Now, there was a newfound hunger. A desperation. Like he had been starving himself for years and you were the first bite of food he had eaten. Had to have been good food to, with the way he inhaled you, indulged in you like you were some ambrosia or golden mead.

"Spike," you moaned. "I'm getting a bit light-headed." Your voice was high and thin, fearful as you made attempts to pull your arm from his lips. Through his haze, his fangs contracted back, and his tongue swiped whatever lingered on your skin.

"I'm sorry." Sorry for going too far, sorry for almost turning you into an empty Capri Sun pouch, sorry for being reckless again.

" 's ok."

You wobbled a bit as you stood, fingers wrapped around your wound as you shuffled into your kitchen in pursuit of your first aid kit. "You gonna tell me what happened?" He only groaned from the couch.

"Maybe tomorrow. I'm tired." You laughed on your way over to him, wrist already covered in gauze with an all too familiar needle and thread in hand.

"You're tired?" The smell of your blood was all too pungent, still. He turned his head towards the wall, studying the numerous music posters and paintings you had hanging.

"Going out to fight evil is a very hard job." You chuckled.

"I know. That's why I stay in here to patch you up." Your fingers were like magic. They always had a way of calming him down. Especially the way you hummed to yourself while you worked. You were never content with just silence. "I expect an answer in the morning." He smiled.

"Yes, ma'am." He fell asleep before you even finished and by the time you were done, you were too tired to walk the down the hall to your bed. You laid your head down on his chest, with no heartbeat to thrum and no breath to rock you, you still fell asleep just like that. Who knew cold bodies were so comfortable.

#btvs #btvs imagine #btvs x reader #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy the vampire slayer fanfiction #spike btvs fanfiction #spike x reader #spike btvs #buffy the vampire slayer x reader #spike btvs x reader #spike btvs imagine

[bloodashre]

Crowley stared at the humans across from him. "I say what I'm thinking all the time."

"Really? So you've told Mr. Fell you're in love with him then?"

He sat up straight, something he rarely did. "What are you talking about?"

"You and Mr. Fell. You're clearly in love with each other."

"What?"

The two women exchanged a look.

"You're not gonna make this easy, are you?" Nina sighed. "We know you're not human. Last night made that pretty obvious."

"But somehow you've developed human feelings anyway. And apparently it's not impossible given that - uh - the two - what were their names? Jim and the other one?"

"Beezlebub? What do they have to do with anything?"

"Well, I mean, they were the same as you two, right, an -an angel and a demon? And they fell in love."

Crowley crossed his arms. "Yeah, but that's not - I mean, they - look. Aziraphale doesn't love me, ok? He can't. He'd never allow himself to fall for a demon, even if he were going to fall for someone."

Nina looked him firmly in the eyes. "We don't choose who we love. And I don't hear you denying that you're in love with him, anyway," she added.

"I - Well I'm not even sure I know what - how - well how do you even know?"

Maggie smiled. "There are questions you need to ask. You don't have to tell us the answers. But you need to answer them for yourself. And then, you'll know."

Crowley hesitated. "O-o-ok. What are they?"

"For starters, do you ever think about what it might be like to kiss him?"

Crowley raised his brows. "No."

"Or do things for him that could possibly destroy you? Do you put yourself at risk or in danger - "

"That's out of context."

"You don't have to answer us. These aren't for us. They're for you." Crowley fell silent.

"Is he your favourite person? If you could do anything, would you do it with him?"

"Do you dream about spending eternity with him?"

Each question hit him harder than the last.

"Where do you feel safest?"

Crowley swallowed. "I -" His heart started racing. He did love him. He had loved him for centuries. He had tried to pretend he didn't. Demons weren't supposed to fall in love. He looked at the spot where Beezlebub and Gabriel had stood and declared they loved each other. And he knew instantly that that was what he wanted more than anything.

"What -" Crowley cleared his throat. This was so hard. Tears began to well just behind his sunglasses. "What if he -"

"Doesn't love you back? You won't know unless you try."

"Besides, have you seen the way he looks at you? He's positively smitten." Nina interjected.

"I - are you sure? Because -"

"She's certain. I'm not sure if he knows it, but it's definitely there."

Crowley fell back in his chair. He had no idea what to do with information.

"Well, we should really get back. But best of luck." Nina stood and Maggie followed suit. "Good luck," she smiled. "Yeah, uh, thanks." Crowley stood, adrenaline and nerves pumping hard. But they were right.

He had to say something.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #fanfic #the conversation #maggie and nina #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #mine

[roodles03]

The Art of Alastor's Expressions: An Analysis by an Profressional Cartoon Artist and Current Animation Student

This is not related to TOH but I wanted to bring this up because the art how they animate Alastor's facial expressions deeply fanisnates and heavily impresses me. And also because I'm an animation nut and I am currently in animation school and I heavily appreciate the art of animation.

In Dad Beat Dad, during the scene where Husk confronts Alastor about Mimzy, directly after when Husk says, "You've been gone a while, and it's not like anyone knows why," there is exactly THREE frames where Alastor's pupils turn into dials as he eyes away. (Being most noticable on the first)

Now I gurantee since Husk was talking, there was a good amount of viewers focusing on him as the focal point, over Alastor, despite this shot being from Alastor's POV. Meaning a lot of people probably missed Alastor even eyeing away at all on their first viewing. But this is noticable on a rewatch and if you just focus on Alastor as the focal point.

But I have never seen anyone point out that his pupils actually turn into dials here. And you definitely wouldn't even notice UNLESS you spefically paused on one of those three frames. To give you an idea of how truly fast these frames go by, typical 2D animation runs at 24 fps. These three frames only last 20 milliseconds together. And since the detail is so tiny it is nearly impossible to notice when the shot is running normally at 24 fps. Its even hard to notice if you pause on these three frames because this detail is so small.

Whoever animated this added this detail despite the fact nearly no one would notice just to truly show Alastor losing his compsure. And as one of my animation profressors said "Every detail in animation is intentional since you create everything from nothing," (Unless it is an animation error) And as someone who is currently in a hand drawn 2D animation class, yeah, you spend a while on every single frame, knowing its only gonna be shown for a few milliseconds and the overwhelming majority of people will never notice or even care to notice. But You can slip in tiny details like this that add an incredible amount of insight to the very slim margin of people who will dissect your animation looking for details, or even just looking for funny inbetween frames or animation errors and they happen to discover a cool detail you left.

Back on the topic of Alastor. People have noticed that often Alastor's eyes give away how he's truly feeling through the mask of the smile he puts on. And they're absolutely right. But ive never seen anyone talk about this moment.

And in these brief three frames he loses his compsure for just a BRIEF moment upon being reminded of his deal. In fact, look at his expression in both the key frames right before these three inbetween/extreme frames

Overwhelmingly confident after he says "Who in their right mind would cross me?"

Doubtful of Husk after he says "You've been gone a while"

Losing his compsure when Husk reminds him of his deal after he says "And it's not like anyone knows why,"

Then puts on his classic mask, with that look in his eyes completely gone, saying "They don't need to know," (about why he was gone)

It's incredible how much three frames of showing Alastor losing his compsure adds to his character and this scene.

Also, This is not the only time where Alastor has an expression where it's clear that his deal is some sort of trigger to him, either. (Outside his verse in Finale which is obvious) Just look at these frames when Zestial simply comments that he's be gone for a while and there were rumors that he fell to holy arms

(wasn't able to include the other frame of his eyes going side to side damn you tumblr)

He also clearly looks away from Zestial as well, avoiding eye contact or even facing him when Zestial questions why he's been gone, indirectly reminding Alastor of his deal.

I love these such tiny details about Alastor. Its clear he is often hiding so much behind his smile. And since I can't add more pictures (thanks tumblr), I cannot even go into the two frames where he actually does frown, or another two frames where it's up for debate if he frowns. But I feel like there's more to say here where his eyes give away everything despite his smile, even if its just for a few frames, rather then the four frames where its either up for debate if he is frowning or he is clearly frowning.

I also want to mention that accomplishing expressions like like this is incredibly hard. Drawing is hard. Animating is even harder And despite expressions being my strong point, expressions are still hard as hell.

Most and sometimes all parts of the face go into making the right expression. Eyes, eyebrows and the mouth are the main factors, but you can even use the nose for extereme negative emotions (often used for extreme anger, hysterical ugly crying, or intense disgust. Hazbin actually does this for Alastor in one shot to my memory When Carmilla says she wasn't wondering where Alastor has been for the past 7 years) And depending on the character design, you can also even use their ears (positive emotions they perk up, and negative emotions they flatten. Most commonly seen in characters with animal ears but humanoid characters with pointed human-like ears can do this too. Like the witches from The Owl House for example the use of Ears also apply to Alastor when he experiences EXTREME negative emotions... Or Susan)

But when you take away a major part of the face, mainly eyes or the mouth, making the proper expressions becomes a lot harder. But it is possible. think Let Me Explain Studios or character's with hair covering both or even one eye. But Alastor is the only case I've seen where he actually does have ALL the facial features for expressions available, (including ears which is not common!) BUT one of them is actively working against the others parts of the expression, which is the fact that he is REQUIRED to smile. That means you must always draw him smiling, in every single frame, but try and use his other features (mainly his eyes and sometimes his nose or ears) to try and hint at his true emotions. Take a moment to think how HARD that is. That is insane.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed my Ted talk about Alastor and his emotions lmao.

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel analysis

[eluxcastar]

Pantalone x reader (male or gn) where reader returns from a particularly bloody and mentally exhausting mission late at night. Perhaps a little emotionally scarring

Reader is concerningly silent

Pantalone helps them bathe and carries to bed

Hurt/comfort fic where reader softly cries to sleep and pantalone can do nothing more than hold them tighter and closer

You're not used to losing people

── ୨୧：pantalone x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: you spent days out travelling near the edge of snezhnaya, delayed by trouble you encountered that has you home half a day after you were expected to be. by all official accounts the objective was completed and the mission was therefore a success, but you seem to return a different person than the one who waved Pantalone off with a warm smile and a kiss for good luck.

୨୧﹑genre :: angst

୨୧﹑content :: masc reader (could be read as gn), mentions of blood, use of petnames (darling), implied death, reader is at a bit of an emotional breaking point, pantalone is written to be soft, they're married because I said so

୨୧﹑words :: 2.7k

anon this is strangely so cute I love it. sad but still somewhat cute an idea yk (I had literally no idea what to call it until five seconds ago). our man pantaloon needs more love. I accidentally wrote clock instead of cloth in one part and the mental image of Pantalone trying to clean reader with a clock made me fucking die laughing this is so stupid

if you like this also go read this post as the two are similar in theme and story but with very little comfort to the hurt 👍

something about the evening seems...wrong, the sky grows darker, too dark for it to be your usual time. the moon suspiciously high, yet there's no sign of you to be found. you should know better than to make him worry, knowing that though your strength may carry you through battle, you're also not invincible. what happens if you reach your limit out there? how is he supposed to know if you're safe? what if you don't come home?

abruptly Pantalone's thoughts are interrupted, the door opening, and he knows nobody would be bold enough to waltz on in without knocking unless it was you come home from a long and tiring mission. he only heard earlier that you would be returning, "Some time in the early evening" he had been told and clearly that was a lie. it was likely no fault of yours, just some hold up along the way.

he hears your footsteps, knows you're there-- at least he thinks that's you. you've been awfully quiet, though you usually call out to him when you return home. you still manage to worry him. he can't see you tucked away in the entrance, only glimpses of you as you remove your coat. there's a moment where he swears he hears you suck your breath through your teeth, then the rustling of fabric and finally your footsteps again, abruptly followed by a loud thud.

now you're really worrying him.

it takes him seconds to decide he's no longer waiting on you, standing to walk to you and see what has happened. the moment he turns around, Pantalone can see you even from where he stands several feet away, the thud clearly caused by you falling flat on your face, leaving you struggling to get up though not for a lack of trying. just before he reaches you, you just give up and turn yourself over so you can sit for a moment. you barely get there before he's lifting you up from the floor like a life-size rag doll.

"You're injured. Why didn't you go see someone?" his concern translates to disappointment at some point, and though he wonders if it was too harsh, the blood you're covered in and the bandages that bind your hand tells him you need it just a little bit. why aren't you taking better care of yourself?

you try to speak, but find it impossible for your words to comply, caught in your throat and refusing to come out. he's not impressed with that either; you can see it in his face that he would've said something if you didn't look so, frankly speaking, pathetic.

you have to ask yourself if he can tell you're trying not to cry, the quivering of your lips and glassy eyes hard to hide. he cradles you so gently it almost tips you over the edge, so safe compared to the way you've spent the last few weeks feeling. nothing about the day leading up to now specifically makes you feel that way, and it feels so draining trying to hold it back, but overwhelmingly so being home just makes you so emotional. your wound doesn't hurt too badly, and it's not as if your fall was anything but tripping over your own feet in absent-mindedness. if it proved anything, it was that you definitely did something to your shoulder, coupled with the fact that grabbing the blade of a sword to stop it in its tracks had left a shallow mark across your palm, you were beginning to doubt your instincts again.

still, you cling to the fabric of his clothes tightly, finding comfort in these familiar things which you associate with your home. hearing his voice, the cool contrast of the rings he wears against your skin, the scent of home, even just being held in this way makes you want to close your eyes and settle.

then suddenly you're moving again, and he sits you down on the couch and kneels down to remove your shoes for you, "I'll take you to be seen by a doctor tomorrow, but for now let's get you cleaned up and in some nice fresh clothes." he stands and places a kiss gently to your forehead, "I'll come get you when the water is ready, don't push yourself, darling."

you dare not test his patience, so you wait, staring down at your hand covered in bloody bandages. your hand is shaking. most of that blood is yours, though your mind wanders seeing it, back to the several corpses you laid your hands on, the people whose bodies you beat with your fist begging and screaming at them to get up as they lay lifeless. your throat still hurts. you untuck the end of those bandages, unravelling them from around your hand until you see your skin and the awful gash across your palm. it looks awful, red and swelling, far worse than when you last saw it. you run your thumb across the wound, flinching at the tinge of pain that shoots down your arm.

"Tsk tsk, what is this?" from behind the couch comes a hand, taking you by the wrist and pulling your arm up, "You should've gone to get this looked at. Did you at least clean this properly?"

you stare up at Pantalone who adjusts his glasses. it's strange to feel his hands against yours, bare and slightly damp hands warm against your skin. remembering he asked a question you shake your head, and his eyes flicker back to you with a strange look.

"The bath is ready." he finally says, "Does it hurt when I carry you? What else are you hiding that you haven't tended to properly?"

"It's ok, you can carry me." you say, finally able to speak, though your words are quiet and rougher, than you'd like. you clear your throat and repeat "You can carry me." to him knowing his usual fixation on acting your best, even though you're also aware there's no way he expects that of you.

Pantalone purses his lips a moment, glad for you to finally say something, but still finding something to worry about in the fact it didn't tell him much, resigning himself to the fact that you'll simply have to show him once he helps you undress to take a bath. you watch as he walks around the couch, and raise your arm up to him, wrapping it around his neck when he leans down to scoop you back up off the couch and into his arms.

the way his hands touch you as he removes your shirt, letting you lean your head down rather than pull your arms off and he promptly tosses it aside. his hands return to your shoulders, running down your arms to observe your skin, noting that you had bruises but no other cuts or scrapes, save for a minor one on your side barely in need of a band-aid. it's slightly more awkward shimmying yourself out of your pants as you have to put your weight on your hand while trying to avoid pressing it too forcefully against anything. his observation continues, though he once again finds you to be in perfect condition.

it's the dried blood that sticks to your skin that he worries about, even knowing it likely isn't yours.

"I wasn't told there would be delays in your arrival, was it so bad that you weren't about to communicate your messages back to me?"

the water is warm, but not hot, shallower than you might've filled it but you suppose only having the water rise to your waist was in case you were keeping another nasty scar hidden under your clothes from him. that was in case. every bone in your body adores this man's care for you, the usually pompous banker with a clear soft spot for you.

he holds a cloth which he dips into the water, running it along your skin as he dabs at the stains taking extra care not to scrub too harshly. days of dirt and grime and a battles worth of blood and sweat washed away by the loving hands of the Regrator. he can tell by your reluctance to answer that it's not the time, and carries on in silence letting only the sounds of running water making its way to your ears. it's a calming silence, though you watch as the water surrounding you is slowly dyed by the blood that runs off your body.

it finally hits you just how bad things got, even when before you could in some way write it off like a nightmare and pretend it hadn't really happened. some metaphorical weight presses down on your emotions and you just break as your vision blurs, tears welling up in your eyes.

perhaps noticing your shaking or catching one of the few tears running down your cheeks, the cloth is immediately set aside as Pantalone places a hand to your back. you try desperately to wipe your tears away, but a wet hand isn't the best tool to dry your cheeks with and you only serve to make it worse. a part of you feels hopeless, like a failure to your own team as you know you let them down. you were supposed to be a fighter, a good one at that, husband of one of the Harbingers and somehow you still managed to lose two people.

you feel yourself back in that place, weary as you finally stand, your shoulder stinging, you assume from the initial fall. you clasp a hand over it and rub your thumb on the area, making it sting. you groan at the pain. one of the more medically verse teammates tends to one of the wounded. you walk toward the collapsed body of a fellow fatuu, seeing them unmoving and bleeding into the snow. you practically fall at her side, landing on your knees as you slightly let your feet give out and bring you down to her.

cautious at first, you shake her, trying to roll her over though it hurts you to do so. she remains unresponsive to any poke or prod at her, not even a groan or mumble, and she's so cold.

you're all cold, you tell yourself and try again to shake her awake, "Hey, get up..." but despite everything nothing works, barely able to roll her onto her back to see her face. her eyes are wide open, a look of shock frozen on her face that haunts you, it's enough to make you hesitate, like a harsh slap across the face. "Wake up!" you say again, the desperation building. you know she's not asleep but it doesn't even matter anymore, beginning to feel more and more like a child pounding their fist on the floor throwing a tantrum the less and less put together you become. "WAKE UP DAMNIT! Nobody said you could die like this!"

"Captain, stop!" without warning, you're grabbed from behind and yanked away, sending a throbbing pain shooting through you as their grip is rough on your shoulder "Calm down and look at her. She's gone." they say.

in the blink of an eye it all rushes back to the view of a bath tainted by that same blood, long black hairs tickle your neck as you are held tightly once again. it grounds you just enough to remember that you're safe in a bath, cared for by the man you love.

"I'm such a failure." you choke out those words through your sobs, echoing off the bathroom walls, "They needed me to lead them and I just got them killed. I couldn't even keep my composure when they needed me to pull them together..."

you curl into yourself, squeezing his arm in your hand, "You're not a failure, darling, but you're not used to losing people." his assurance helps, if only slightly, but something about feeling like even someone who seems to care for none understanding your reaction eases your heart a bit. it doesn't do anything to help the dying part, but he's never been good with sincere reassuring words, and he chokes thinking of what to say to you.

all Pantalone can do is hold you and rub your back to let you cry, finishing up quickly to get you out of there and back into his arms bundled up in a towel. just as you feel hopeless for being unable to live up to whatever outlandish expectations you had of yourself, Pantalone feels as if his comfort falls short as he can't stop your crying, though he shushes and assures you it doesn't seem to make it better.

when you reject his offer to go to see a doctor, saying you just want to sleep. he doesn't want to push too much, only asking that you agree to let him disinfect your hand, otherwise letting you dress yourself in fresh clothes he set out for you while he goes to tend to other things momentarily. at the very least, your tears stopped, for now you seem calm again.

he returns to find you've already tucked yourself away bundled up in the covers, brushing your bangs from your faces and leaning down to kiss your temple. "I'll be with you in just a moment, darling." he whispers to you, earning a noise of acknowledgement.

stepping away only to change his clothes and let his hair down, he sits back on the edge of the bed, though on his side. he removes his glasses, folding them and setting them down on the nightstand. it's an unusual silence knowing you're lying right there behind him. he's so used to you talking to him right up until he tells you to go to sleep, and yet you seem so exhausted and drained. you're not used to losing people. he has to remember that you're more emotional than he is, but he doesn't mind--likes it in fact--as it's usually a good thing. just...not now.

he sighs to himself, unable to help it. he hates this, seeing you so upset, so unlike yourself. he hates feeling so powerless watching you punish yourself for something you couldn't have changed, like some passive observer in your life. his words don't help, and there's little he can do to take away those memories or even fix your body.

there is one thing Pantalone can do, the thought of resigning himself to simply being a source of comfort, someone to support you so you can cry as much as you want. it's better to cry in somebody's arms, isn't it? he turns on his side to face you, who faces away from him. he's not sure why, you just happened to be comfortable there. feeling his hand against your side, you shuffle closer and allow him to wrap his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

you let out another shaky breath, closing your eyes again. above all else you feel safe. given everything he's done for you, you can't ask for more, though even just being by his side is enough to put your anxiety to rest. still, it hurts. not even physically, but your heart won't stop aching, and unable to distract yourself you replay the sequence of events in your mind once more.

an ambush, the ensuing fight, a firm whack to the head which you still haven't discerned the source of, boots running and kicking up snow all around you as you watch through blurred vision, you manage to block a sword that swings down at you though in the stupidest way possible, you finally get your head straight and get up and fight more.

where did she die? more importantly when did she die? if you can just remember that maybe you would know what you did wrong, what to fix.

you become distracted again, knowing you're shaking and back to holding back your tears. what pulls you away most of all is Pantalone's voice, "Don't cry, darling, it's over now. You're home."

you grip his hand tightly, fingers intertwining with his. "Is it...is it ok if you talk to me more?" you ask quietly, "I think..."

"That's hardly a difficult request." he says, squeezing your hand in reassurance, "If it would help you fall asleep."

#♡ — ruu. #✦ — scenarios. #✦ — angst. #pantalone #pantalone x reader #pantalone x male reader #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader