#‘and is still working some things out in regards to it’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kumikuzushi-kun · 17 hours ago

Text

HIS NOCTUARY𓆝 𓆟

Telemachus x Fem! reader 𓆞

WARNING(S) : Harassment, Disturbing acts performed by the suitors, Reader is hinted to have mommy issues, a few inaccuracies to the Odyssey, slight intimacy

Word count : 14k (forgive me, i got carried away)

a/n: part 2 coming soon!

ART CREDITS GOES TO GIGI IN YOUTUBE ( @gigizetz in Tumblr! )

𐔌 When Telemachus turned thirteen, that was when his father’s absence start to weigh. The Trojan War had long ended, yet Odysseus had not returned. Around the same time, the number of workers in the palace began to dwindle—some retiring, others quietly leaving as the palace began to shift.

That was when you and your mother arrived at the palace. The queen was in need of a personal handmaid, and your mother, having served as a handmaid in a neighboring kingdom, was sent to Ithaca. She was a trusted woman—regarded as one of the most loyal workers in her homeland—so it didn’t take long before Queen Penelope came to see her the same way.

Along side your mother—was you, you looked around the same age as Telemachus though he never officially met you. It was quite a turn for Telemachus to have another person his age in the palace walls however it only ever remained as that. Just another presence that worked for his family.

In rare events, Telemachus would ran into you while you're helping your mother or the other handmaidens. You stood professional despite you being the same age, it was clear that you were more mentally mature than the prince, heck probably more sensible than any other teen in Ithaca.

𐔌 One time, Telemachus was walking back to his room when he passed by you. Though you were looking out through the open window at the view, you immediately sensed his presence and turned to acknowledge him.

"Good day, your highness. The sky seems to be in a good mood today, isn't it?" That was the first time you'd ever spoken to him beyond simply greeting him by title.

The young prince wasn’t exactly used to speaking with girls his age, so an awkward chuckle escaped his lips as he stepped a little closer to you. “It quite is,” Telemachus replied, his voice slightly uncertain.

You looked out towards the sky "The sky has been gloomy nowadays.. It's nice to see the sun shining more often" You said, he glanced up at the sky then back at you. "Yeah.. It has been awhile since the weather was this calm" He said. "It's quite beautiful, if you look into it"

You visually agreed as you gave a soft smile, "..Do you prefer it like this?" Telemachus asked almost too awkwardly.

“I do,” you answered honestly. “The garden’s easier to work in when it’s not soaked with rain. Besides, the sunlight brings the colors out. It makes things feel a little more alive… even if just for a while.”

He raised a brow, a little surprised. “You tend the queen’s garden?”

“Sometimes,” you said. “Other times, I’m just the one who passes through it delivering things. But I know it better than most—it’s beautiful there, especially with this weather”

Telemachus looked at you curiously, you noticed and only let out a chuckle.

A few seconds of silence were occupied between you two—as he followed your gaze and landed on the palace's garden, and you did not lie—the garden was indeed beautiful with the sun's grasp.

He thought you were about to say something more, your lips just beginning to move, but your eyes flicked to the corner, catching sight of something—or someone.

Before you could continue, you stopped yourself and quickly excused yourself with a slight bow. Curious, Telemachus turned in the direction you left and saw your mother standing a short distance away, wearing an unreadable expression. The two of you greeted the prince one last time before walking off together in silence.

That was probably the last time you made small talk with Telemachus—you didn’t completely brush him off, still greeting him with a soft smile whenever he was around, but there was a quiet distance that formed between the two of you. One he couldn’t quite name, as there was no word in the dictionary existed for it. Still, he noticed. He noticed how you always looked like you had something to say, but held your composure. He didn’t do anything about it—maybe because he barely knew you, or maybe because he assumed you prioritize your duties over forming any friendship.

However he would be lying, if he says it didn't bother him completely.

𐔌 When Telemachus was sixteen, murmurs of concern began to stir among the people of Ithaca. Even though Queen Penelope managed the kingdom just fine, the prolonged absence of a king was becoming harder to ignore. That was when a few suitors began to appear at the palace—coming not out of loyalty, but in hopes of claiming the throne through Penelope’s hand.

Telemachus could smell their dirty intentions from a mile away, and more than anything, he wanted them gone. He hated how easily they assumed his father was dead, as if his memory could be buried so simply. Thankfully, his mother was no fool—Penelope remained clever, holding off every suitor with such grace and patience.

Time passed, and the number of suitors grew—eventually even gaining a leader among them, as if they ever needed one, when all they did was abuse the hospitality of their home. They demanded a new king, insisted the queen to choose a new husband already. Telemachus begged his mother not to lose hope. Fortunately, she was just as cunning as his father and came up with a plan to keep the suitors at bay.

"Today I will begin to weave a shroud for my lost husband, if he is not seen in Ithaca before I finish, I will choose one of you to take his place beside me"

"I will send for maidens to help you" One of the suitors pointed out.

𐔌 A year passed and the presence of the suitors affected not only the queen and Telemachus, but also everyone who served in the palace. You were no exception. Despite holding no grace in your blood, your features carried them all, your presence was warm that drew eyes—an unspoken beauty that didn’t beg for attention, It was the kind of presence that carried itself with dignity, not vanity. Unfortunately, that was enough to catch the notice of the suitors themselves.

"Girl," You could feel their eyes land on you as you tried your best not to take notice, focusing instead on your chores. Unfortunately, you had been tasked with sending something to the kitchen—and that path meant passing by the suitors. You mentally prepared yourself as you stepped forward, keeping your chin up, doing all you could to ignore the lingering stares that followed your every step.

Your attempt to ignore the call quickly backfired when suddenly your arm was harshly tugged by force—it caused you to let out a yelp—immediately stepping back when you saw one of them drawing closer. "Are you deaf in one ear or are we playing pretend?" A mischievous tone of voice rang in the crowd.

You immediately knew who's voice it was—as your face immediately turned sickened.

Eurymachus stood infront of you, his taller figure casting a shadow into you however your glare was no invisible.

"Why are you such in a rush? hmm? you don't have to act like you don't like the attention" Cheers and chuckles of men followed.

"You're interrupting my work, Eurymachus. If you have a shred of decency, you and and the others will move and let me do my job." You spat back—keeping your composure straight, a grin plastering on the man's face causing a churn in your stomach. "Aww, so dedicated, aren’t we? Of course you are—you’re the daughter of the queen’s precious head handmaiden, right? Always so eager" He mocks—stepping closer.

Instead of backing away or showing even a hint of fear, you stepped closer, narrowing your glare at the man. “Instead of insulting my mother, I suggest you to keep your mouth shut. The queen wouldn’t be too pleased to hear such a foul tongue from one of her guests.” Though your words dripped with venom, your eyes held only boredom, and your posture remained calm, unshaken. The way you looked at Eurymachus—as if he was no one to fear—only made his ego swell, stung by the quiet defiance.

The room fell silent at your remark. You turned your back on him, taking a step—only for Eurymachus to seize a fistful of your hair, yanking you back towards him with brutal force. A sharp cry escaped your lips as pain arched through your scalp. You clawed at his hand, but his grip only tightened, making it worse.

“Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?!” he snarled. “Don’t forget—you’re just a maid here! the youngest!, you little tramp!" He yelled at your face.

"Since you talk shit with that pretty mouth of yours, why don't we use it for more useful things, yeah?" Eurymachus looked around, asking for validation as the men all around nodded—disgustingly agreeing.

He tugged your hair more as you fought the tears of pain. Eurymachus grin widen.

"Let go of her, in this instant!" Another voice had joined in the chine, everyone in the room Including you, turned to its direction seeing no other than the young wolf himself. An awkward silence followed but then Eurymachus let out a chuckle and his men of pigs pathetically followed.

His laughter rang as he released your hair with a harsh shove. The force of his grip—and the sudden release—disrupted your once-neat bun, sending strands down in disarray. You stumbled back, but quickly regained your footing, eyes locked on Eurymachus as he turned his attention towards the eighteen year old prince

He walked toward Telemachus, who stood in the doorway. Though fear might’ve churned in his chest, his face held firm—brave. Telemachus had happened to pass by when the suitors' unusually loud cheers reached his ears—tones too rowdy, too mocking. Curious, he paused by the door. But it wasn’t until he heard your voice, strained and unmistakable, followed by Eurymachus’s cruel mockery, that something in him snapped. He didn’t think—he moved.

His eyes immediately found you. Disheveled. Hurt. And his face changed.

“Is the young prince trying to cosplay a hero now? Run along back to your mommy’s chambers while we borrow one of your precious maids. Can’t blame us, can we? Your mother’s been taking her sweet time choosing.”

Telemachus jaw clenched but did not flinch as he glared back. “This is my father’s hall,” he said. “And until he returns, my mother rules it. You forget yourselves. No one here—maid or not—is yours to touch, command, or mock." He spat back—his eyes meeting yours.

"Touch (name) again and you will regret it" He said, stepping closer.

You in the other hand, was quite in shock, you sensed more troubles if you simply just stand there.

Eurymachus fell silent for a moment, though the flicker of a thought passed through his eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed…” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough to be heard—before suddenly grabbing Telemachus by the collar of his chiton and yanking him forward. The room tensed. Not with fear or shame but with a smile.

“Eurymachus, stop this at once! He’s the prince—you have no right to lay a hand on him!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the heavy air. Without hesitation, you shoved past the suitors, forcing your way toward them,

“Your father isn’t here, boy—he’s nowhere. Dead!" He shouts, Telemachus clenched his fists tighly. Eurymachus whispered, "You don't have to be so greedy.. we can always take turns with her"

Before anyone could react, the prince stepped forward and drove his fist into Eurymachus’s jaw. The force sent the man stumbling back, stunned. Silence followed.

It was the first time Telemachus had ever thrown a punch—and succeeded. His eyes widened in disbelief.

Eurymachus recovered with a snarl and lunged, but before the blow could land, you threw yourself in front of Telemachus, gripping his arm and pulling him back. A ring of shouts exploded from the suitors, feeding off the tension like a pack wolves.

Then the doors slammed open.

“That is enough!” a voice commanded. All eyes turned to the entrance—Penelope stood tall, flanked by guards and, trailing behind, your mother. The queen’s gaze flicked to you, then to her son.

You bowed. “Your Highness, forgive the disturbance. I was only fulfilling my duties. The guests chose to interfere.”

Penelope’s stare hardened, especially as Eurymachus stepped forward, smirking. “Don’t scold the boy, my lady. Maybe he’s just trying to learn how a real man rules a house in his father’s absence.”

Few dared to laugh. Penelope ignored him. “Why are you here, son?” she asked.

Telemachus finally lifted his head. “They were mistreating (name).”

He glanced your way—quick, but meaningful. Eurymachus scoffed and walked off, dragging some of the suitors with him.

A quiet hand landed on your shoulder. Your mother. Her eyes avoided yours.

“I apologize for the inconvenience (name) may have caused, my queen,” she said. Inconvenience. The word stung more than you expected. You bit the inside of your cheek—hard enough that you nearly tasted blood. You could feel it. The way her fingers tensed ever so slightly on your shoulder, the way she refused to meet your eyes. You really should’ve taken laundry duty today, at least clothes don't glare.

"It’s not her fault, by any means. I’m glad both of you stood up for yourselves," Penelope said, glancing between you and Telemachus with a faint, approving smile.

But you barely heard. You only bowed, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. Telemachus noticed—how tightly your lips pressed, how closed off you looked.

He hadn’t realized he was still watching until you turned to leave. Your eyes met, just for a second, before the door closed behind you.

“Thank you, my prince,” you said—and then you were gone. The words lingered, quiet as the slam of a heart too full.

The moment you closed the door, your eyes settled on your mother’s back—posture straight, chin held high, hands placed on either sides of her chiton. You couldn’t see her eyes, but you imagined them blank, yet somehow heavy with sentiment. She paused. "I told you to stay out of trouble, the prince will think of you as a hassle with this." she said, her voice flat and distant. Hassle? You didn’t answer. You’d learned by now that it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t really listen.

𐔌 Word had spread among the servants, and many took it upon themselves to spare you from any chores that meant crossing paths with the suitors—you couldn’t have been more grateful. As for the young prince, he too kept his distance from the suitors more than ever, trying to push the whole ordeal to the back of his mind. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn’t quite forget about you. It had all happened so quickly, yet his thoughts lingered—on your voice, your bravery, the way you stood your ground. That moment clung to him more than he expected.

So much so that Telemachus snapped out of his thoughts, suddenly realizing what he was supposed to be doing. His eyes landed on the scroll sitting untouched on his desk—the one he was meant to deliver to his mother. Panic hit him as he noticed the fading sunlight; the deadline had passed hours ago. He shot up from his seat, hastily rolling the scrolls and rushing out of his room. As he moved quickly through the halls, he mentally scolded himself—he'd been so caught up thinking about you that he hadn’t even realized he collided with someone’s shoulder.

"I'm sorry—" His words cut off as he realized it was you. Telemachus’ eyes widened, a small smile forming on his lips without him noticing. Recognizing the voice before the face—your eyes widened too, but not in the same way as his. "(Name)! Hello—" he started, a bit breathless.

"Excuse me for bumping into you, sire. I need to deliver this urgently," you interrupted with a quick bow. His smile faded into a thin line, blinking at the sudden change in tone. "Oh… yes, you’re excused," he said. You gave a short nod before walking off, leaving the young prince in the hall, scrolls in hand.

He quietly watches you disappear, as he reluctantly walks away himself—reasoning your skeptical hurry as important.

𐔌 "Good morning, (name)," Telemachus greeted one early morning as he entered the kitchen. The suitors were still asleep, and for once, both of your worries felt lighter. Still, you flinched at the sound of his voice, your hands pausing mid-task as you looked over at the prince.

"Your Highness! Uh—good day also. What are you doing—"

"Can I help with anything?" he asked, stepping closer to the counter you were working on. You gripped the edges a little tighter as he neared, your mother words reminding you. "Uh—no! It's no problem, sir, uhm..." you trailed off, clearly avoiding his gaze. "Actually, I think I'm needed in the courtyard this time. Please excuse me."

With a quick bow and a wipe of your hands on your chiton, you hurried off. Telemachus opened his mouth to say something more, but you were already gone. Your rushed steps still in the air.

Did he say something wrong? He wondered—maybe you were just busy. Still, the way your voice tightened and your hands clenched the counter… it left a quiet thought in his chest, though he said nothing and moved on with his day.

𐔌 While walking the palace halls, Penelope and Telemachus paused at an open window. Below, the garden bloomed—olive trees winding along the walls, vines heavy with green. The two spoke softly, their conversation slow and warm, until Telemachus’s gaze drifted downward.

You were there, moving quietly beside your mother, watering can in hand. He watched as you poured water carefully over each plant, steady and focused. “Telemachus?” Penelope’s voice brought him back. She followed his line of sight.

You felt eyes on you. Glancing up, your breath caught—there they were, the prince and queen above. You quickly looked away, heart thudding. “Too much water,” your mother said dryly. You mumbled an apology, hands trembling slightly as you resumed your work.

Still, you kept glancing upward. From above, Penelope’s attention shifted between her son and the scene below. You caught Telemachus looking again. This time, your eyes met—brief, fleeting.

Your mother noticed. She gave your arm a light tap, drawing your attention. Then, with a composed smile, she lifted a hand in greeting. Penelope nodded in return. You followed suit, smiling too—but something about it was off. Too polished. Too faint.

It wasn’t the usual smile he often caught on you. This one looked tired, almost practiced, as you placed the watering can gently on the ground. Maybe it was the contrast—your mother’s expression beaming while yours seemed to just go along with it. You… you looked distant. And you still hadn’t met his gaze again.

His chest tightened. Had he done something? Since the incident, you’d kept your distance—never cold, but never quite open either. Every time he tried to speak, you found a reason to leave. Not angry. Just… guarded. Holding something in.

And somehow, that quiet hurt more than anything else. And for the first time, the young prince began to wonder… did he do something wrong?

𐔌 Telemachus could not sleep that night, the stars and moon hovering the sky—he sighs for the fifth time that night as he pulled himself out his sheets, rubbing his eyes and grabbing a light lantern. He couldn't sleep—so might as well do something productive.

The prince travelled to the palace's library, careful not to make any noise on the way, this part of the palace during the day would often have workers in it as the queen's attendant and scribes would often work their scripts or reports in there.

Telemachus expected the room to be empty and dim—silent, as it usually was at this hour. So imagine the surprise on his face when he sees a source of light glowing from behind one of the tall bookshelves. The prince quietly shut the door behind him, careful not to make a sound, his steps slowing until he was nearly tiptoeing. Who else would be awake so late?

He crept closer, weaving between shelves until he could peer around the corner. And there you were. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, a small pile of books and scrolls at your side, completely absorbed in the parchment in your hands. The soft light of a lone lantern and the moon’s glow through the high windows illuminated your face. Something about the sight—your quiet focus, the shadows gently swaying on your features—stirred a strange pull in his chest.

"Room for one more?" Your head snapped up at the voice, eyes wide in surprise. The paper in your hand trembled slightly, your fingers loosening their grip. Telemachus stood a few paces away, hands behind his back as he made his presence known. "Prince Telemachus! What are you doing here so late-?" You asked trying to cover up the building tension in your hands.

"I could ask you the same thing" He says, you did not answer. "Do you mind?" He asks again with a small smile.

Your eyes start at him as you look away slowly—gripping the paper. It took a few seconds before you deliberately nodded, shifting slightly, making space among the scrolls without saying a word. That was all the invitation he needed.

His eyes drifted to the scrolls and books spread before you. “Do you always stay up this late?” he asked, voice quiet. "Sometimes" You murmured, keeping your gaze to yourself.

An awkward silence followed, you weren't even reading anything at this point as you were still as a rock. Telemachus turned to you—you tensed, he noticed.

"I didn't expect to see you here" he said softly. "You've been.. hard to find recently" The sound of fire from both of your lanterns crackle.

"I was starting to worry that if I did something to offend you" at that, your attention was piqued.

"You seemed to be distant and tensed lately, you were always calm and open most of the time so I wondered if I was the problem" Your head turning to meet his eyes.

"Your highness-"

"Telemachus, we're practically the same age" He corrects.

You blink, "Prin— Telemachus"

He hummed, "I keep thinking back. If I said something wrong or made you uncomfortable last time, if I did then I'm probably stupid for not noticing" He laughs.

Silence followed.

"Who am I kidding, we were never friends.. this shouldn't bother me so much, I'm sorry" He humors with a laugh that seemed forced.

You didn't say anything about his statement for a moment, your continuing silence caused the prince to turn away—debating if he should just excuse himself.

"..You didn't do anything wrong" You finally said, causing the prince to focus on you.

"In fact, I should be the one saying sorry" You started, "You went out on your way to protect me and I did nothing but to brush you off so harshly" you looked down at your palms.

You let out a heavy sigh, your voice soft with concern. "You even punched Eurymachus… dear gods." Palming your face.

Telemachus only laughs "It was a stupid move but i would do it again, he deserves it" He says leaning down the shelf.

...

"I'm sorry for ignoring you, the truth is..." You hesitantly spoke, "I was told to avoid you"

"What?" The prince furrowed his brows. "By who?" He followed

"Not in the way you think! It’s just… my mother believes she was sent here to Ithaca because her service back home wasn’t good enough. She’s afraid that if we make any wrong move, the queen might do the same thing to us." You trailed,

"She told me from the start not to cause any trouble here in the palace. Then one day, she saw me talking to you and completely flipped—said you might take it the wrong way. So, to be safe, she told me not to interact with you at all."

Telemachus stayed quiet for a moment, processing your words, his gaze softening. He hears you continue "It actually bothered me, because I knew you weren't the one to think like that" the prince continued to listen.

"And.. also because a part of me just wanted to talk, which is silly—you’re a prince after all, but most people around here are either much older or… well, a threat. I just wanted someone my own age."

You pulled your knees to your chest, leaning into the motion as your arms wrapped around them—an action you find comfort in. "But I love my mother," you murmured, voice muffled behind your knees. "Even if she can be a handful sometimes… she’s all I have left. So, I just obliged."

"Is that why.. whenever your mother is around you look extra tense?"

You chuckled, “You notice?” you said, turning to the prince. Telemachus turned his head too—now you were both eye to eye.

“Since I was around thirteen,” he said. “You were kind from the start—always composed, more mature than I ever was. And when the suitors came, you stood your ground for you and your mother… I really admired that.”

"Really?" You tilted your head at the prince.

"I never knew my father, but I’ve always heard he was a great man. That’s why it hurts—seeing how easily the suitors dismiss him and disrespect my family. I want nothing more than to put them in their place... if only I were as strong as he was. But you..you’re brave. You stand up for the people you care about. I wish I could do that, too." Telemachus said, turning his head away

“Who says you aren’t brave, my prince?” you said, your voice cutting through the quiet. He turned to look at you, and you met him with a soft, reassuring smile. “You risk getting beaten every other day just by standing your ground. You’ve held yourself together despite your father’s absence. You’ve been there for your mother, defended her name—and your own, even mine… you stepped in when no one else would.”

Your gaze lingered on him a moment longer. “Maybe you haven’t reached yet the place your father once stood… but I think, if he saw you now, he’d be proud. Proud of the way you carry yourself, of how brave and strong you are—every single day."

Telemachus eyes searched yours, as if trying to find something he couldn’t quite name. His lips parted slightly, then closed again. Your words had sink in.

Both of you continued to stare into each other’s irises as a quiet breeze brushed against you. Neither of you noticed how, with every word shared, you had both unknowingly scooted closer—like it was the most natural thing in the world. Now, you sat in silence, closer than you had ever been, with no more words left to fill the space.

"That's..." Telemachus searched for the words, "That's really kind of you to say" He worded out.

You laughed, covering your chuckle with your fingers in a soft, graceful way. Telemachus followed with a quiet laugh of his own, the tension between you both slowly melting away. Just a while ago, neither of you could look into each others eyes—now, you were talking like old friends catching up. The two of you shared stories, small memories, thoughts you had never voiced before, as if making up for all the quiet years spent under the same roof.

Telemachus listened closely, learning things he never knew about you. You spoke of how you taught yourself to draw, how creating art gave you peace, how expressing feelings through sketches felt like breathing—and that beauty was your favorite word. He watched you with growing interest, his pupils quietly widening every time you laughed at something he said—whether it was a passing comment or a joke. There was something in that sound that made him want to hear more.

"You want to be a painter?" He asked curiously. You nodded happily, "Mhm! It's been my dream since I was a kid, that's why I'm here at night, to study color theory, and also i can't do it in the morning"

Telemachus raised his brow at this, "Why so?"

"My mother. As always" You started, "She's training me to become a good handmaiden after she retires, which is a long time by the way!" You playfully rolled your eyes.

"Don't get me wrong, I do love helping people and I definitely love tending-"

"The garden, especially on sunny days," he finished your sentence.

You turned to him, your smile widening into a grin. "You remembered?"

He gave a small shrug, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Maybe."

"But yes," you said, a warmth in your voice, "I love the garden… but I love painting a portrait of it even more."

Without warning, you shifted slightly and reached into the pile beside you, rummaging through your books. Telemachus watched curiously as you pulled out a small stack of parchment—each one softly inked with delicate lines and shapes. Drawings. Sketches of flowers, leaves, moments caught in beauty.

He even caught a glimpse of sketches of faces, though you quickly shuffled them to the bottom of the stack. He swore one of the portraits looked familiar.

You cleared your throat softly, holding up a sheet. "Here's one of the garden," you said, revealing a colored portrait. Telemachus leaned in, his mouth parting slightly in awe as he took in the way the colors blended together, how alive the scene felt.

"This is so good—what the hell?!" he blurted, genuine admiration in his voice. You chuckled at his reaction, watching as he carefully began to look through the rest of your work. With each piece, his awe seemed to grow.

"Is this one unfinished?" he asked, pointing to a painting where only a quarter of the paper had been colored.

"Oh yeah, I ran out of pigment," you admitted with a soft laugh. "And getting new ones here isn’t exactly cheap… plus, I haven’t had the time to go out to the market."

Telemachus watched as you started to fix your stuff, "It's getting late, I should probably go" you announced.

He helped you with some of the scrolls, and soon you both were face to face—the two of you looked at each other sheeply before you cleared your throat.

"It was nice getting to know you.. Telemachus" You said, with a bit of hesitation in saying his name bare.

"It's nice to also get to know, (name)" He replied, with a low breath—he brought his hand in front of you. "Friends?" He said with his lips kissing his teeth.

You stared at his hand for a second then back at him—immediately taking his invitation in yours. "Friends!" You grasped.

The two of you exchanged giggles that night.

Being friends with the prince was something you didn’t expect—especially because it was an order by your mother. However, you learned that this small disobedience—was worth it. You noticed how colors seemed more vivid ever since that day.

Your friendship with Telemachus wasn’t loud, at first it only consisted of shared glances, whispering of each other's name and exchanging constant waving like kids in the park.

Then he started to stop by the garden with obvious excuses, "The queen sent me," "I'm checking the vines," "I'm just passing through"—but you both knew better. When you're the only one working in the garden—he’d offer to carry the watering can or sit beside you, tossing small olives at the wall and missing on purpose, just to hear you laugh.

You recently told him how your nose always get itchy whenever you gathered wildflowers, but that you bore through it anyway. The next morning, you found him waiting by the hill, basket already in hand, ready to help you pick them. A small tug pulled at your heart that day.

You started to notice how Telemachus began doing his scrolls in the palace library more often. He used to prefer the privacy of his own room, but lately, he seemed to want to cross paths with you. There were moments when he’d peek around the shelves, tap the top of your head with a scroll, and whisper, “I win,” before settling beside you to read.

He has a habit of randomly scaring from behind, yelling "Boo!" and laughing at himself.

He tried drawing once, because you asked. The sketch was... awful. But you laughed until your stomach hurt, and he looked so proud of it that you kept it tucked between your books.

Though the friendship became something deeper one late night, the two of you were in your usual spot in the library. It was already dark, and only your lanterns cast a glow over the two of you. You tended to ramble about the details of your sketches, and Telemachus listened, his eyes half-lidded but still focused on you.

Then, in the middle of your words, you felt the weight of his head gently fall to your shoulder.

You paused, startled at first, but when you turned slightly, he was already asleep. His breath was steady, calm. The closeness made your heart thump—but you stayed still, careful not to wake him. You didn’t want to wake him, partly because you were embarrassed… and partly because you kind of liked it.

Your heart stopped when you heard him mumble your name in his sleep, did you hear that right?

Then came your 18th birthday.

Birthdays weren’t exactly something you grew up celebrating. At most, your mother and a few kind handmaidens would quietly greet you when the day came, a soft smile, a gentle hug—and that was enough. You were always grateful they remembered at all.

So imagine your surprise when, early one morning, you stepped out of your room to find a small bundle of color pigments carefully placed by your door. Each one wrapped in cloth, tied with a simple bow.

At first, you assumed the bundle was misplaced—perhaps something meant for someone else—until you noticed a small, neatly folded piece of paper tucked beneath the string. You opened it, and the handwriting was instantly familiar. You’d come to recognize it easily.

Dear (𝒩𝒶𝓂𝑒),

You didn’t mention it was your birthday—figured you wouldn’t. But someone in the staff said a handmaiden turns eighteen today, and I just knew it had to be you.

It’s nothing too grand, but when I saw these, I thought of you immediately. I hope they come in handy... and maybe you’ll let me see what you make with them?

Anyway—happy birthday.

~𝒯𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓂𝒶𝒸𝒽𝓊𝓈

You stood still for a moment, holding the letter. A small smile crept onto your face. The pigments were ones you hadn’t had in a while—some expensive, some hard to find. He remembered.

You and Telemachus had grown used to meeting in the library, and one late evening—weeks after your birthday—was no different. The moment he stepped inside, his eyes scanned the room, already knowing where to find you. Your back was turned, but without a doubt, he knew it was you. Quietly sneaking up behind, he grabbed your shoulders and “Boo!” with a laugh.

You turned and gave him a look—unfazed, a clear “Hahah, very funny” written across your face.

He grinned as he took a seat beside you.

"I tried looking for you earlier," you added, hands busy with something he hadn’t noticed yet, "but you were nowhere to be found."

"Oh! Sorry about that—I was out for a bit," he said.

You nodded, turning slightly away to focus on what you were doing. Telemachus didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered. He watched the way your hair had loosened, strands falling around your face. Your cheeks were faintly flushed, and something about that made him bite the inside of his lip.

Then, without thinking, his hand moved to tuck a strand behind your ear. You turned your eyes to him just as he blinked, caught in the moment.

"Uh—it was in the way," he mumbled, quickly finishing the gesture. "Sorry."

You only stare at him for a second before cracking a chuckle, Telemachus looks at you as his embarrassment washes away. "I was looking for you earlier because I wanted to give you something" You revealed making him tilt his head.

Then you shift so you can face him properly—your hands behind your back.

"As a thank you"

"Huh? For what?"

"For my birthday last time"

Telemachus' blinks. "You didn't have to"

"Yes but I want too"

"Close your eyes!" You said, "and give me your hand" You added—Telemachus looked at you confused but followed.

He closed his eyes and felt something placed on his palm—for a moment he felt your finger tips touched his.

"You can open them now" You said,

Telemachus peeked open one eye, then blinked fully awake when you brought forward a small clay figure—messy around the edges, a bit lumpy, but unmistakably him. Down to the blue sash, his tousled hair, and the faintest little pout painted on his lips.

He stared. Then blinked again.

"Wait—what—" he stammered, reaching out like it might shatter if he touched it too fast. "Is this… me?"

You nodded proudly. "I used the paints you gave me. Thought it was fitting."

He took it, carefully, like he was receiving some sacred relic from the gods. His ears turned pink. "Why am I… is this how you see me?" He commented

You tilted your head. “Tiny and pouty? Sometimes.”

He let out a loud laugh. “Gods, I love it. He looks like he’s about to cause trouble."

“I was going for princely charm, but that works too.”

Telemachus looked at the doll again, then back at you—his grin stretched wide, but his voice a little softer this time. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” He paused, then gently set the figure beside him. “Except maybe you.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

He coughed, suddenly red. “—you because you made the doll!"

You laughed as he buried his face in his hands. "I experimented with clay the other day, this is my first attempt to do something that isn't flower pots" You told him.

"Well you did a great job for a beginner" He joked—earning a slight slap from you, "Excuse you! I've been doing pottery since I was 12!" You hollered.

Telemachus only giggled as he clenched his stomach.

Your shared laughter lingered in those quiet corners of the library that day, soft and light, drifting between the shelves and settling like dust on the edges of old scrolls. It became easy to lose track of time when it was just the two of you—moments folding into each other so naturally that the rest of the world seemed far away. Sometimes you swore the palace looked different. Livelier. Colors warmer. Even the way the wind blew through the halls felt lighter.

But, like most sunny days, it wasn’t meant to stay forever.

It was late morning when you returned from the market, you were asked to fetch some ingredients by your mother, arms filled with your basket and a soft cloth over. You hummed quietly to yourself until you entered the palace.

Before you could even take a step past the main corridor, a pair of handmaidens hurried past, whispering frantically. You stopped them out of instinct, brows furrowing.

“What’s going on?”

One of them glanced at the other, hesitating, then leaned a little closer.

“They say Antonius provoked the young prince during this morning... And he fought back... I don't think it went well.."

The words didn’t register at first—not entirely. You stood there, blinking, as your arms suddenly felt a little heavier.

The halls were quieter. Never in peace—but in tension.

You hurried through the halls, each step making the corridors feel longer, heavier, as you reached the dining hall. The first thing you noticed was the broken table, splintered as if something had been thrown against it—blood staining the wood and dripping onto the floor, enough to make your chest tighten.

Then, in the distance, you saw Antinous and his men laughing. He turned, nose bloodied, wiping it off with the back of his hand. He caught your stare. Your eyes widened. He smirked—slowly licking the blood from his lip in an almost disturbing way.

Your heart dropped. You searched around the room, searching for Telemachus, but he was nowhere in sight. Without a second thought, you turned and hurried through the palace again.

Your heart was pounding through your chest, gripping your fist until your knuckles went white. It was difficult to breathe properly—not when you have no idea where he is—or what had happened. Thoughts kept spinning messily as you almost missed the prince door.

You shouldn’t be in this hallway, especially in broad daylight. You knew staff could pass by any second, their whispers quick to turn into assumptions—worst case, your mother herself might be the one to catch you. But in that moment of distress, none of it mattered. You raised your fist and knocked on the prince’s chamber door—three times.

“Telemachus?!” you called, voice hushed, just loud enough to be heard, not enough to draw attention. You knocked again, faster this time.

The silence after that was sharp, you were about to knock for the last time until, "(name)...?" You could hear him say, so gentle.

“Oh Zeus. Telemachus, are you okay?! I—I heard what happened—are you hurt?!” you stammered, choking on your words, your hand gripping the doorknob. It was unlocked. But still, you waited.

Softly, you heard footsteps approaching from the other side. You bit your bottom lip to steady your shaking breath.

The door creaked open, and there he was—Telemachus. His nose was bloodied, streaks of dried blood smeared across his face and chiton. It wasn’t too bad… but it was enough to almost break you.

Telemachus opened the door wider—quietly inviting you in. You stepped forward, unable to hold yourself back, your movements unsure. Your hands careful to reach for him, He noticed, but before you could pull away, he gently took them in his, steadying you.

"What happened…" you whispered, pulling out a handkerchief you had prepared and bringing it softly to his face. "Antinous" was all he said, sitting on the edge of his bed.

You stood in front of him—noticing the way he kept touching the back of his head. You gently ran your finger through his hair as you touched the back. Eyes widening when you feel a puddle of liquid. "Did you hit your head?!" You asked panicked.

"Yes- but" He stated before taking your forearm away gently— "But please don't panic, It's okay now! I promise, it's dried up blood so technically it doesn't hurt-"

"What do you mean it doesn't hurt?! You're bleeding, you idiot!"

"I know! I know! But seriously! I've met—"

A gust of wind pushed through the balcony curtains. He paused, catching sight of the owl perched just out of reach—watching. But he didn’t say anything about it.

"..I've just been thinking a lot lately," he said instead, voice softer now, more grounded. "About who I am. About who I want to be."

You stayed quiet, listening carefully.

"I want to be more than just… the boy who waits. The boy who watches everything happen around him. I want to be strong. Not for the sake of war or glory—but so that I can protect My mother… you."

The words hung there, gentle but heavy. You blinked, caught off guard.

He laughed softly to himself, shaking his head. "I don’t know. Sometimes I think about him—my father. People have all these stories. All this legend. But for me, he’s just… missing. And maybe that’s why I feel like I have to become something better. Not to replace him, but to at least live up to the name. To become someone that matters."

You saw the flicker in his eyes then.

"Because if he really is out there," he added, more to himself than to you, "I want him to come back and see that I became someone more worthy being proud of."

You didn’t say anything—but your eyes, still furrowed and shining with worry, said enough. Telemachus stiffened, afraid for a moment that he’d overstepped, that maybe he sounded foolish spilling his thoughts like that.

But then you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

His breath hitched. His hands found your waist without thinking, holding you close, cautious but sure. You tucked your face into his shoulder—and that’s when he felt it. The soft shake of your breath. The quiet sob you didn’t try to hide.

The boy was stunned—his heart loud in his chest—but he didn’t move away. He couldn’t. This was the first time he’d held you like this. Just how he caught himself wondering what it might feel like to pull you close like this, but he always brushed it away, convincing himself he had no right. But now, it felt like a lucid dream.

"You're such an idiot," you murmured, voice thick. "How many times are you going to throw yourself into trouble before you finally learn? I'm glad you're growing, I really am—but that doesn't mean you get to risk your own blood like this!" Your words cracked near the end, raw and trembling.

He starts to hear you cry, and he couldn’t help but hold you tighter. He had never heard you cry before—not truly. The closest was that one time you had an allergic reaction to a wildflower; your eyes were watery and red, yet you were still laughing through the discomfort. But this… this was different. This time, you were crying because of him. Because he got hurt. Because you were scared. Because you cared.

"Don’t ever get yourself in a fight with the suitors no more! And don't ever scare me that ever again!" you scolded, voice trembling as you clung to him.

“I— I will,” he said, only for your grip to tighten with a sharp pinch to his arm.

“Promise!”

“Yes, yes! Promise!” he chuckled softly, wincing playfully as he lifted one hand in surrender. His smile, though bruised, was real—warm for you.

...

When Telemachus was around nineteen, that’s when Athena began training him. It was unfamiliar at first—awkward—but he adjusted quickly, picking up with every training—rather expected knowing he was the son of Odysseus himself.

Around the same time, his bond with you deepened, especially after the incident. Still, he never told you about his secret mentor as per request from the goddess of wisdom herself.

Mornings were reserved for training, afternoons taken by princely duties, and in the quiet of evening, that’s when he’d see you most. You spent your mornings with your chores, so your moments in the day together were often brief, scattered but the type he'd look forward too. Sometimes he'd help you out with your chores, definitely not cause he wants to spend time with you.

The young prince had just finished sparring with the goddess, day by day he felt more and more motivated—despite his limbs would go sore from training, the taste of improvement was enough to get him up, he can now at least defend himself properly against the suitors! Everyday as he becomes stronger and older, the men too get more impatient, wilder and unsafe.

If he wasn’t so smart, he might’ve picked a fight first this time—just to prove something. But he knew better now. He knew he had a long road ahead before he could win like that, and more than anything, he knew you wouldn’t be pleased if he got himself bruised for pride alone. The thought of you made his lips tug into a quiet smile.

“You did well today, young wolf,” Athena said with a proud smile.

“Thank you, Athena,” Telemachus huffed, catching his breath.

“I suggest you run your bruise under cold water before it darkens. I fear your lover might worry, seeing you all battered again,” she added, almost too casually.

At that, Telemachus perked up, his head snapping toward the goddess with wide eyes. "What..?" he echoed, a faint flush rising. Athena looked back at the prince, her face turning flat.

"Your bruise, ran it into cold water."

"No! The thing after that!"

"Your lover?"

"That!"

"Is she not..?" She asked, her tone leaning into a question.

"(Name)?" He choked, "She's— She's my Friend— Did you think we were lovers?!"

Athena lips were a flat line as he looked down at the flustered prince with a look that says "really?"

"My mistake" Was all she said before she morph into her owl form, setting on a near by branch all while Telemachus continued to look at her with red cheeks. "Wait no! You thought of us of lovers- why?" He asked the goddess of wisdom.

Athena only glared at him in her owl eyes, if she wasn't so nice she would have flown away but unfortunately they see each other everyday so she'd had to deal with it sooner again anyways, "You wear your feelings like a garland, young prince. It’s endearing... and painfully obvious."

Telemachus opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. “Feelings? I don’t— I don’t have feelings for her— I mean, I can see why someone would have. (Name)’s sweet, she’s kind and talented and—” He froze mid-sentence, eyes widening slightly. “Oh gods… do I have feelings for her?”

Athena, still perched as an owl, let out a long, tired blink. “You’re so tristful,” she muttered, feathers puffing slightly in exasperation.

"If you're questioning if you have feelings, then more likely you do."

"But what makes you think I do have them?!"

"Telemachus, you held the girl last time with such care, you immediately fell when she cried out your name. You long to see her every day, and unlike other mortals, instead of making your heart race, she makes it steady. At peace. I think it would be reasonable for anyone to assume…”

She paused "Well, that you already know how you feel."

Telemachus tried to carry on with the day, but the realization sat heavy in his chest—warm. He hadn’t accepted it, not fully, but it kept brushing the edges of his thoughts like a tide refusing to recede. His gaze stayed low as he wandered the hallways, hoping movement would loosen the knot in his chest.

Then he passed by the dining hall.

The door was cracked open, just slightly, and he paused without knowing why. The suitors were never up this early—it was the hour when the servers began preparing for the day’s meals. Quietly, curiously, he glanced through the gap.

You were there.

You hadn’t noticed him. You were speaking with another maiden, laughing softly at something she said, the corners of your eyes creased. And somehow, in the calm of morning, with the sunlight filtering in just right, Telemachus forgot how to breathe.

Your eyes shimmered even from afar, reflecting the dawn like polished amber. Your hair caught the golden rays as if the sun had chosen you as its canvas, and your smile—

Gods, that smile.

You looked so alive in that moment. So real. So effortlessly full of light.

In a way you made the ordinary look sacred.

Had you always been this beautiful?

He didn’t move. He only watched for a few more heartbeats, standing still as the morning slipped past him—and with it, any denial that might have still lingered.

Maybe he did like the way you made the palace feel like a home.

He recalled the moments your presence calmed him, the way your fingertips brushed his skin so gently, The nights spent talking until the stars faded, the laughter, the quiet glances—how it all felt like home. He thought of how often he smiled just being beside you, how the world softened when you were near.

This feeling—this need to be near you, to protect you, to simply hear your voice—it wasn’t fleeting. It was steady, sure. Like the way he smiled whenever you were around. Like the way he cherished every second, every glance, every word exchanged between you.

He admired how you gave kindness freely, yet knew when to draw the line. How you protected those you loved. How you always seemed to know what to say, or when to simply sit beside him in silence.

And as those thoughts wove together, one by one, the answer came to him—gentle but certain.

It wasn’t just fondness. It wasn’t just comfort.

He was in love with you.

Gosh he was in love with you

When Telemachus finally came to accept his feelings for you, the prince tried not to make it obvious—key word "tried" he was a little worried because Athena herself stated that it was painfully obvious. Telemachus could not focus, he kept losing focus and drifting his mind to the thought of you. But this time with his feelings aware.

A blush can't be fought back to his face as he tried to eat his lunch with his mother who took notice of his behavior.

"Telemachus?" Penelope called softly, eyeing her son across the table.

He blinked out of his daydream, his spoon hovering above his bowl. "Yes—mother?"

"You've barely touched your lunch," she noted, the corner of her mouth lifting just slightly. "And you're smiling into your soup."

Great, now his mother herself is starting to get suspicious, Athena was right—he's so obvious that it actually hurts him.

He quickly straightened, reaching for his cup in a clumsy attempt to ground himself. "Just… thinking."

Penelope watched him over the rim of her cup, a knowing glint in her eyes.

"You know," she began, "when you’re quiet like this, thinking of something you won’t say out loud... you look just like him."

Telemachus looked up, startled. "Father?"

She nodded, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"Your father used to sit right there, drifting off in thought halfway through a meal." She trailed, with her smile turning sly.

"Though I’m not quite sure he ever blushed the way you are now."

He quickly looked down at his plate. "I'm not blushing."

"Of course not." Penelope set her cup down gently. "But you do carry him in your face, in your silences, your stubborness."

There was a pause. Then, more softly, she added, "You’ve grown so much. I often forget you were just a child when he left."

Telemachus’ smile faded into thoughtfulness.

"How are you, nowadays mother?" He asked, the queen exhaled a heavy breath, "Still weaving the shroud, unweaving on night.." She confessed.

"And the suitors?"

Penelope almost laughs, "Still here. Still getting louder. Bolder. I don’t know how much longer I can keep them at bay. However I'm still hopeful for your father" She tried to keep her tone even - hopeful but her eyes didn’t lie. His mother was tired and Telemachus knew that.

He had always worn it like a shadow—this echo of a man he barely knew. Everyone had stories: how clever he was, how brave, how fierce. But stories weren’t answers. Stories didn’t explain his absence.

Telemachus looked down, hands clenched against the table.

"I can’t keep sitting here, doing nothing." The words escaped before he could stop them.

Penelope’s eyes snapped back to him. "What do you mean?"

"I need to do something" he said, "seek answers"

"where?"

"Anywhere! To Pylos or to Sparta, Menalaus may have news or Nestor too. Someone out there must know if he still lives—or where he fell." He said, eyes filling hope.

She stared at him, her face pale with worry. "Telemachus, no. Please. The seas are no safer than these halls. You don't need to be lost at it too"

"I’ve lived under his name my entire life," Telemachus said. "But I don't know what kind of man he was. Please mother. To find answers, closure."

"I’ve waited long enough," he said. "If I sit still, I’ll rot here just like they want."

Penelope fell quiet.

"You're all I have left, son" she whispered. "The only piece of him I still wake up to. If you go—"

"I’ll come back," Telemachus said quickly, though the words didn’t feel as certain as he wanted them to. He knew the risks, the danger and the uncertainty. Even so he murmured. "I promise."

At that, the queen embraced her son dearly, arms wrapped around him with a quiet desperation she rarely allowed herself to show.

Telemachus stood stiff at first, He hadn't been embraced like this since he was a child—before he understood what absence meant, before the hall grew loud with uninvited voices and the scent of home was soured by strangers. He held her back, carefully, protectively.

He felt like a child again, embracing his mother for love.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he whispered. "It hurts... But I have to know."

Penelope didn't answer—not with words. Her grip tightened for a moment, then loosened with an aching slowness, as she faced her soon again—her eyes water, letting a choked laugh see how grown and determined her son is. How he looks so much like his father.

Telemachus and his mother shared a quiet moment as he attempted to soothe her worry. Though he would be lying if he said it didn't scare him too.

And in that embrace, Telemachus remembered the last time he'd held someone that closely.

You.

The time you threw your arms around him after the skirmish with the suitors, trembling from worry, your forehead tucked to his shoulder. Your hands, warm. Your voice—shaky, angry, gentle—scolding, and yet he had held you back without hesitation, as if that moment had always belonged to you both, as if you two belonged to each other's arms.

He hadn’t realized, then, how precious that would become. How soon he’d be leaving you behind. Just when he had just realized his feelings for you.

Your laugh. Your smile. Your voice—The way you made his name sound softer, The feelings he had only just begun to accept now felt like something he was being forced to walk away from.

He looks up to his mother. Who he'd be also leaving behind. No one to watch over her, no one to stand for her protection. his chest ached—not from fear of the journey ahead, but from the shadow of leaving. He fears what will happen to both his mother and you.

...

"Telemachus?"

You called out, making the said prince snap back to reality. After his talk with his mother, Telemachus had wandered the palace halls, his mind weighed down with the burden of his decision—until he heard your voice. The voice he now realized he never wanted to leave behind.

He turned, breath catching. "(Name)," he said, almost in a whisper. You had just stepped into the hall, but the moment your eyes met his, a smile lit up your face.

"Are you okay? You seem a little down," you asked, your voice laced with quiet concern.

And gods, how he adored that—you always noticed. Always cared.

Telemachus smiled, a little dazed, a little dumbstruck—like someone falling, no, fallen in love. "I'm fine. Just stuck in thought," he said, shrugging it off.

You nodded, though your eyes drifted lower, catching the edge of his exposed shoulder. A faint purple bruise was beginning to bloom along the muscle.

"Is that... a bruise?" You squinted your eyes, "Huh?" The prince asked confusedly looking at his own shoulder. And indeed there was noticeable bruise forming, a few cuts from probably this morning's training. He mentally slapped himself—completely forgetting his mentor's advice.

"May I?" You asked for permission, well there was no point in denying it now so he simply lets you. You carefully traced your hand to his arm—examining the wound. "Oh dear gods...Telemachus, did you get into another fight with those men?" You asked, shooting an eye to him.

"No! It's just from training this morning! You know... sparing.. with myself..?" He explained a little too unsure. You sighed as you let go of his arm. "You need to be more careful, Telemachus. Are you sure you weren't sparing with an animal?" You voiced laced with suspicion.

Yeah, I was sparing with a literal god..

He nodded as you trail back to his wounds. "Well, I can't have you walk around looking beat up, weren't you in lunch with your mother? Surely the queen noticed your form."

"I think, it wasn't as visible earlier.." He replied, "I'm fine (name), this isn't the first time, you know that" His joke gained a look from you as he only laughs.

"I'll tend your wounds in a second, why don't you wait somewhere so I can prepare"

Telemachus nodded—this wasn’t the first time you tended to his bruises, so neither of you thought much of it. "Is it alright if I head to my room first? I need to change," he said, offering a faint smile. You nodded, returning the gesture with a small one of your own before heading off in the opposite direction, assuming that’s where you’d treat his bruises, like usual.

Unfortunately, neither of you clarified. You assumed he'd be waiting in his chambers, while in his mind, he planned to head back after changing. So, when you pushed open the door to his room—unannounced, as you’d done so many times before—you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was, chiton half-tossed over, back turned to you, sun catching the gold along his skin. His muscles tensed at the sound of the door creaking open.

"Sorry—I thought you'd be here already dressed."

Telemachus turned, equally startled. "Oh—no, no, it's alright! I just—I'll be done in a moment."

You quickly averted your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to focus. He was your friend. Your prince. You were here to treat a bruise. Not have your thoughts spiral.

Still, it didn’t stop your heart from thudding louder than it should have.

"Actually… maybe you should keep your top exposed—since I’ll be tending to it," you managed, keeping your voice as steady as possible. A part of you was undeniably flustered; it wasn't every day you saw your closest friend like this. But you reminded yourself—this was routine. You'd tended to his wounds before. It wasn’t supposed to feel different. Just except the fact he's half naked.

Telemachus bit his lips, before clearing your throat, "Right. Of course" He said, trying to be calm cause you were too. Unaware how you're practically dying from being embarrassed.

Sitting at the edge of his bed, shoulder turned toward you, the bruise blooming darker now under the light. Upon seeing his mark, you shook away to begin.

Approaching carefully, you set down the tray beside him, its contents clinking softly. You reached first for the clean, damp cloth, the coolness biting slightly against your fingertips. Without a word, you knelt beside where he sat, your eyes scanning the bruise—a deep, purpling bloom across his shoulder.

You pressed the cloth against it with precision. The moment the cold touched his skin, he tensed just slightly, muscles twitching under your touch.

"Sorry," you said softly, adjusting your pressure, more gentle this time.

Telemachus only hummed, barely reacting, though you could feel his eyes on you. You kept yours trained on the task, determined not to let your fluster show.

"You're being very serious today," he finally murmured, voice low, almost teasing.

You kept your focus. "I'm always serious when you're hurt."

You tried to focus; however, your work did not allow you to, as your eyes wandered. Without his chiton covering him, the young prince was lean, but due to his training and growing years, his body had started to take a more defined shape.

There were subtle lines along his torso, the hints of muscle shaped by sparring and sword work. His skin was tanned, with a few faint bruises and older marks—nothing serious, but they stood out. You looked away quickly, pressing the cloth a little too hard before catching yourself.

"gods, get a hold of yourself!"

You're a professional, you reminded yourself. Even if he is a friend... you're still a professional.

"You've been training too hard lately" You said, as you put away the cloth and started to prepare a salve for his wounds. "It's better than getting bruised from a fight" He said.

"Getting hurt itself is not better" you stated. "You worry too much (name)" Telemachus replied. "Of course I will," You paused briefly. "You may be a prince, but you're also just....you to me. And I care about you" You said, turning to him with the ointment for his wounds.

That was enough to shut the young prince up, as you slowly applied the salve to the various cuts and wounds. This time, your bare hands touched his skin, and Telemachus couldn’t help but shiver slightly. He swallowed hard, eyes quietly watching as you continued, careful and gentle with him.

It didn’t help that he was reminded—this was the same woman he admired. As your fingers moved, a blush crept onto his skin, blooming faintly across his cheeks. He swore he could feel his body grow warmer, though he didn’t know if it was from the salve or simply from you being this close.

"And I think that's it," You concluded, "Please be more careful next time, Telemachus." You told the prince as you whipped your hands through a clean cloth.

He didn’t respond.

You looked up—expecting a nod, maybe a quiet thanks—but instead, he was just staring at you. Eyes soft, a little lost.

You let out a small laugh, trying to break the silence. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" he blinked, caught.

"Like you have something to say." You smiled, tilting your head.

You didn't pay as much mind as you cleaned off the tray, you could hear him laugh however Telemachus laughed in worry—reminding of his diplomatic mission.

He didn’t know if he should tell you—considering even his mother was against it. The weight of it sat heavy on his chest, but not heavier than the thought of leaving without saying a word. Of walking away while you were still smiling, unaware, waiting for him?. He wondered if it was better this way—if knowing would only make it harder for you, for him.

His fingers fidgeted against the fabric of his bed. His eyes never left yours. "(Name)," he said finally, voice low, uncertain.

You straightened slightly, sensing the shift in his tone. "Hmm?" You hummed.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then gave a small, lopsided smile. "Thank you. For always patching me up."

A pause. Not a confession. Not yet. But maybe a beginning.

A grin plastered on your lips, "You're always welcome, Telemachus" You beemed.

Yeah. He can't bring himself to tell you

"Athena, what should I doooo..." Telemachus whined the next morning, his feet dragging along the grass as he followed the goddess into the olive grove behind the palace. The sun was shining off the drenched leaves, but Telemachus’ heart felt too heavy to notice the beauty around him. "You’re the only one who agrees with this decision… and you're also aware of the cost of it," he trailed off, his hand raking through his hair.

"My mother… and…" he mumbled.

Athena, still in her human form, walked ahead—then shot him a sharp look over her shoulder.

"You speak as if you have the choice to stay, Telemachus. This isn’t about comfort—it’s about truth. It’s about preparing for what is coming."

He stopped in his tracks, eyes lifting toward the goddess.

"My mother… she’s afraid—afraid I won’t come back. And I fear she may be right. And (name)... gods, (name)... she has no idea. I just figured out what I feel for her, and now I have to leave her—and my mother—here?"

Athena stepped closer, her arms folding as her voice slowly softened, but remained firm.

"You know deep down you must go. You must know what happened to your father—not just for yourself, but for your mother and for Ithaca. The time is coming when luck will no longer protect you."

Telemachus’ lips pressed into a thin line. He knew she was right.

"You said it yourself," she continued, "this place is growing dangerous. Those suitors won’t wait forever. What will you do when they snap—and you’re not ready?"

The goddess’s words landed heavier than he expected. Telemachus felt the ache of them settle in his chest.

"This journey," Athena said, softer now, "will make you ready. I’ll help you. You’ll seek the answers you’ve longed for."

And slowly, Telemachus began to understand. This wasn’t only a search for his father. It was preparation. A storm was brewing in his home—and he needed to be ready before it broke.

"And if they realize I’ve left?" he asked quietly, scared.

"Then let them," Athena said without hesitation. "They’ll see soon enough that you’re no longer a child hiding behind your mother’s grief. You are your father’s son. You just need the chance to become him in your own way."

Telemachus took a slow breath, but the ache in his chest didn’t ease.

"And what about (name)…?" he asked in a whisper, his head bowed.

Athena didn’t answer right away. When she finally spoke, there was a trace of sympathy in her voice.

"If she’s truly who you believe she is, she will understand. And she’ll wait."

The wind passed silently through the olive trees. Then Athena added, almost gently,

"Or… if you find the words too difficult to say—perhaps it’s better not to say anything at all."

Telemachus turned to her, startled. "You mean—leave without telling her?"

"You said it yourself. Your mother is against this. You fear what will happen if she finds out. I understand that. But if you linger too long, doubt will start to drown out your resolve. And if this must be done… delaying it will only make everything harder."

Telemachus opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He wanted to argue. He wanted to call it cruel. But even as his heart fought it, something in him knew Athena was right. Maybe it was cowardice. Maybe it was wisdom. Or maybe it was the quiet, selfish hope that this would all be over soon.

The sooner he left, the sooner he could return. And maybe—just maybe—when he did, he’d finally have the courage to say what he couldn’t now.

"I guess..." He made up a decision. "We sail as soon as possible."

...

It was a quiet evening—a little too quiet for your liking. The palace was never truly silent, not with 108 men lounging about. Yet tonight, the usual noise were strangely absent.

Curious, you peeked into the main hall. A few men were still awake, but most were drooping in their seats, heads nodding, goblets slipping from loose fingers. Some had already passed out where they sat.

“Odd...” you thought, tilting your head slightly. Still, it wasn’t unheard of. Wine often dulled the edge of their unruly energy.

You turned away, feet light as you walked through the corridor toward Telemachus’ room. Maybe he should know about this—just in case.

A few knocks on his door echoed softly. No answer.

You frowned slightly. “Maybe he’s already asleep?” you murmured to yourself. But... that wasn’t quite like him. Not lately. Now that you thought about it, you hadn’t seen him around much at all these past few days. He wasn’t avoiding you—at least, you didn’t think so. Just... missing.

It hadn’t bothered you before. You were busy. He probably was too. But now, standing outside his quiet door, a small nudge of confusion crept in.

After a short pause, you turned and made your way to the library.

Maybe he was there already.

He often found comfort in quiet spaces.

You were hopeful.

Though a wave of despondency quickly humbles you when the eerie silence of the place meets you. You still tried to look around—maybe to soothe yourself, though like you expected, there wasn't any trace of the prince.

A long sigh escaped your mouth as your back rested against the library door. "Maybe tomorrow," you told yourself, deciding to just head to bed early today. You didn't really find any motivation to do anything right now—maybe because your inspiration was nowhere to be seen.

You weren’t really paying attention to your surroundings. For one, you were too deep in your thoughts, and two, you didn’t expect anyone to be around at this time. So you were a bit startled when you bumped into someone.

"My apology—" you quickly said, then blinked in confusion. "Nurse Eurycleia! Good evening," you greeted.

Nurse Eurycleia was the palace nurse. You were in good terms with the old madam, often offering your hand whenever you could, especially as you were also learning the art of healing.

"Nurse Eurycleia?" You called out again when the older woman did not answer.

Brows furrowed, the older woman was not facing you—which you found odd.

You shifted slightly, eyes drifting to where she had come from—the main exit of the palace. Your brows furrowed at the sight. "Nurse Eurycleia, did you go out around this late? That isn’t really safe for you to be outside. May I ask what you were doing there?" you asked softly, placing a hand on her shoulder.

As you stepped closer, something under the folds of her peplos caught your eye—a small bundle, oddly shaped, like it had been tucked away in haste. You recognized it as a bag. Your confusion deepened.

The old nurse gave a weak chuckle. "Ah, just gathering something I left earlier. Nothing important, dear."

You narrowed your eyes just slightly, trying not to sound accusing. "Do you happen to know where the young prince is? You had a conversation with him earlier, yes?," you said casually, watching for her reaction.

Eurycleia froze and you immediately knew. Her body still.

"Nurse..?" You blinked.

She didn't speak. Your heart gave a light thud. “You know where he is,” you said, almost in disbelief. “Don’t you?”

Still, she said nothing—but her silence was all the answer you needed. "Where is he?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper. "What's wrong?"

Eurycleia looked at you then, her face lined with worry. "He… didn’t want you to worry," she said quietly, her voice trembling with guilt.

You stepped back, your breath catching in your throat.

"The young prince went to sail" she finally admitted. "On a diplomatic mission. To Pylos. Then to Sparta."

Your eyes widening as realization struck you harder than lightning. "What..?" You murmured, you couldn't find the words, you had a million questions yet none escaped from your lips.

"The young prince... ordered not to tell anyone but..."

Suddenly, Eurycleia reached out and held your hand, gently, urging you to meet her eyes, while yours were still wide with confusion and dread.

"He may still be out there, (name). I don’t know exactly what you and the young prince share, but I do know this—he did not want to leave without saying anything. I saw it in his eyes, he was torn"

You froze. The weight of her words hit you like a wave—confusion, shock, a swell of emotion you couldn't place. But there was no time to sit in it.

"Go. While there may still be time," she urged.

You didn’t waste a second. With a silent breath of thanks to Eurycleia, you took off—racing out of the palace as your heart pounded faster than your legs could carry you.

Your thoughts were a whirlwind. Why is he going? Does he not understand how dangerous this is? Why didn’t he tell me? A flood of questions tangled in your mind, but none of them slowed your steps.

You didn’t know exactly where he would be—but your instincts pulled you toward the shore.

You prayed—to the gods, to fate, to anyone listening—he couldn't leave. Not like this. You had almost gone to bed tonight never knowing he’d already left the island of Ithaca.

The wind bit cold against your skin, but you didn’t care. You had to find Telemachus.

Then you saw him.

His back was to you at first, feet planted on the shoreline where a single ship was moored. The waves lapped quietly at the sand, and the few men aboard moved like shadows—final preparations nearly done.

He didn’t see you right away. His eyes stared off into the horizon, somewhere far, far away. He looked dazed, torn. A deep frown settled on his lips, like the weight of everything he carried was pressing him down.

You saw him.

"Telemachus," you whispered—too soft, as if your voice might shatter something.

Then louder—your breath catching before it came out.

"Telemachus!"

His body stiffened. Slowly, he turned. His wide eyes met yours. Shock to see you.

"(Name)." He mouthed your name.

Your chest heaved, lungs burning, not just from the run but from the ache building beneath your ribs.

Both of you did not move at first, the distance between you too was filled with tension that if one were to go past it they would feel it.

You two stood facing each other, eyes locked, with the moon high above—glowing behind the other's light, as if the sky bent itself to reflect a single moon for two souls.

You couldn’t hold it. What started as a step turned into a run—unthinking. Telemachus watched, frozen, as you closed the distance. He knew he should have gone sooner to spare you both the pain, it was the safer option.. Right..?

But he didn’t move away.

In fact, he stepped forward too—slowly, deliberately. His fingers reaching out for you, and until he finally caught you.

Though he didn't quite prepare himself, as he fell backwards with you—landing on the soft sand.

His arms were around you now, steady even as his heart pounded. The scent of salt and night air clung to both of you, but neither of you move yet.

Your hands clutched the fabric of his cloak, your brows knit together.

You two slowly rise to sit up on the sand, eyes still into each other. You didn't know what gave you the right to launch yourself to the prince but at that moment, you knew him as your Telemachus.

“Why are you leaving?” you finally asked, your voice breaking halfway through. It wasn’t loud, but it hurt to say. Telemachus looked away, the guilt on his face showing.

“I knew you were on to something…” you murmured, "But I didn’t think that it was a diplomatic mission from across the sea."

He hesitated. “You don’t get it, (name).” You blinked, pain flaring in your chest. “It’s complicated,” he added, his voice quieter, as if trying not to lose you further. “You wouldn’t get it.”

You stared at him. “Well of course I wouldn’t get it,” you snapped, the edge in your tone cutting sharper than you intended. “You never said anything.”

"I'm sorry.."

"Sorry isn't going to answer this, Telemachus."

Telemachus flinched, eyes darting to meet yours, startled. You rarely ever raised your voice—only when something truly hurt.

It's kind of an irony, because the only time you ever raised your voice was all because of him. When you defended him and now.

"I had to go. I had to." Telemachus inhaled shakily. "Ithaca won't wait forever. The suitors—they're becoming bolder. My mother can only do so much. And my father… If he’s out there, I have to try."

"I tried to tell you" he said, finally, voice soft, raw. "I really wanted to tell you."

"But how could I? Every time I tried to look at you, I wanted to stay. But I knew I couldn't. I kept thinking maybe… maybe if I just left, it’d be easier." He broke, gripping your fingers gently.

Silence fell again. You felt it in your throat, in your chest, in the way your body refused to pull away from his.

“I would’ve tried to understood, you know,” you said, quieter now. “If you told me. If you trusted me.”

Telemachus grew closer, his voice low. “It’s not that I don’t trust you.“

You kept your eyes at him, your hand still intertwined. Your heart was beating, eyes starting to water.

"I was afraid," Telemachus finally said, his voice trembling like a string pulled too tight.

You blinked.

"I was afraid that if I tell you what I really felt for you... it would've made it harder—for both of us."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Tell me what?"

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, a broken whimper escaped him. His shoulders shook as his head dropped low, forehead pressing to your shoulder, his hands gripping the fabric of your sleeves and your hands like he was afraid you'd vanish.

"That I am in love with you, (Name)."

Your heart stopped. The world fell still—except for the quiet, ragged breaths of the boy in your arms.

"I love you, (name). Maybe I’ve only just come to understand it fully, but the gods know—from the moment we first spoke, I was meant to fall for you."

For the first time, you didn’t know what to say. Your mind went completely blank. Words slipped from your grasp like water through trembling fingers. You were never like this—never speechless, never unsure. But maybe that was because you had never let yourself be this close to something so raw… so real.

You stared at him.

Telemachus, with his tear-streaked face pressed gently against your shoulder, hands clinging to your sides. His confession still echoed in your chest, stirring something terrifying and warm all at once.

You breathed in, slowly.

"If what you said was true, then why leave without saying goodbye?"

"...I thought it would hurt less," he admitted, voice breaking. "For both of us."

You looked at him, truly looked—and then, without thinking, your hand reached up and brushed a thumb across his cheek. "It hurts more," you said quietly, "not knowing."

The space between you felt fragile. Yet somehow, even now, there was comfort in it.

You then started to stroke his head almost pulling him closer, Telemachus hesitantly looked up to you. A chuckle escaped your lips. The same laugh he loves.

"Remember when I told you my mother was worried that talking to you might make you think the wrong thing?" you began, your voice soft. The prince tilted his head, slightly puzzled, but nodded.

"Well... the truth is, long before that, I already liked you," you admitted, eyes dropping for a moment. "Talking to you wasn’t just a coincidence—it was my way of trying to get to know you."

Telemachus' eyes widened, stunned.

"My mother said feelings like that would lead me nowhere. She said, 'Who are you compared to him?' That you'd probably find it strange... or laughable. So I grew up thinking I’d never mean anything to you."

He opened his mouth to speak, but you gently cut in before he could.

"I started to believe, by default, that love just wasn’t meant for me. So imagine how surprised I was... when you said you wanted to be friends."

Telemachus stepped closer, the moonlight catching the hurt and wonder in his expression. His voice broke gently through the silence.

"When I said I wanted to be friends," he said, voice low, "it wasn’t because that was all I wanted. It was because I knew, i wanted to begin somewhere with you."

Your breath caught again,

"From the time we’ve spent together.." He trailed off "You were nothing but more than I ever thought I was allowed to want. And maybe I don’t know exactly what I’m doing—gods know I’m still figuring it all out—but I do know one thing."

He reached for your cheeks, gentle.

"I want whatever this is. Even if it’s uncertain. Even if it’s slow. I want it… with you." He said.

You couldn't help but lean into the warmth of his hand, your heart thudding louder with every inch that closed between you. His touch was tender. Your faces hovered close, breaths mingling in the quiet. Telemachus’ thumb brushed your cheek, then paused as his gaze flicked down—hesitating on your lips.

"May I?" he asked, barely above a whisper, like he was afraid to break the moment.

As you gave a quiet nod, he leaned in—and when your lips met, it was like the world stopped.

His lips were soft, warm, hesitant at first, then a little more certain as you didn’t pull away. You could feel the faint hitch in his breath, the way he carefully pressed in closer, and you welcomed it.

It wasn’t overwhelming. But it was enough to have you melt.

His hand traced the line of your jaw, then settled lightly at your waist, fingers trembling slightly. Your own hands moved instinctively, one curling over his shoulder, the other slipping slowly to the back of his neck.

He pulled away for only a moment, just enough to breathe, his forehead resting against yours. Then, without a word, he kissed you again—deliberate this time.

You were getting kind of jazzy by the second, but your body refused to pull away as the kiss deepened.

Telemachus finally broke the kiss, both of you breathing heavily. His arms remained around you as he buried his face in your shoulder—hiding, maybe, from how deeply he was blushing.

“Did that just happen…?” you said aloud.

The way he held you tighter made it real. He kissed you. And you kissed him back. A quiet settled between you as your fingers gently combed through his hair.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he murmured, making you glance down at him. “You have no idea.”

A soft chuckle escaped you. “I don’t want you to leave either,” you admitted. “But we both know how important this is.” He stilled. Slowly, he pulled back—though his hands still lingered on you.

A part of you wanted to be selfish, to beg him to stay. The sea was no safer than the palace. But you knew better. And you hated how much you understood.

“Don’t make this a goodbye,” you whispered. His eyes lifted to yours, glossy with emotion. “Make it a promise. Promise me you’ll come back safe.” He didn’t speak right away, only nodded—your smile softening as you held onto that small piece of hope.

“I promise to come back to you,” he said. “I'll come to pursue you.” You blinked, heart skipping. “Pursue me?” you echoed, voice barely above a whisper.

He gave a shy nod "I want to come back when I can be officially yours. Right now, I’m not the person I want to be yet… but maybe, by then, I’ll be closer to the man I should be—with you."

The confession hung gently in the air between you. You stared at him for a long moment, then smiled—not the polite kind, not the practiced one—but something small and real, like a promise unspoken.

“Then I’ll be right here,” you said, “when that time comes.” Telemachus leaned in again—not for another kiss, but to rest his forehead against yours. You stayed like that, wrapped in the hush of something tender, as the world around you blurred into silence.

Just for this moment, the future didn’t scare you. Because he would carry your words across the sea. And you carry his promise in your chest until the tides brought him home.

You could only pray the gods of Olympus would guide him safely across the sea. Unbeknownst to you, Telemachus offered his own prayer—that you, and his mother, would remain safe within those palace walls.

Neither of you knew what the days ahead would hold. And all that stood between was faith—and hope. But those two aren’t known for handing out happy endings. Not without a price. Not every time.

here is the 14k fic!! part two coming :DDD this was a pain to publish beacuse of how long it is, i had to transfer to my old laptop but im glad its finally done!!

thank you for reading everyone! interactions are greatly appreciated!!

84 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 days ago

Note

Could I ask what headcanons you have for some of the characters, if you haven't already answered? Like just some small, fun ideas or interpretations you have on their backstories, etc.

I've talked about some of my personal headcanons before. Here's a compilation of them:

Aromantic!Idia

RSA

Censoring Silver

Idol!AU

Worldbuilding

Leona if he falls in love

Crack/silly stuff

Malleus, Lilia, Riddle, Idia (falling from the dream corridor)

Zigvolt family

Aaand here are some headcanons I have regarding the OB boys’ family members or backgrounds:

Mrs. Rosehearts perpetuates generational trauma; she is hard on Riddle, her mother was hard on her, and so was her mother’s mother, and so was her mother’s mother’s mother…

Mrs. Rosehearts is 100% aware that her marriage is in the toilet, but she does not even consider a divorce, as it would be the same to her as admitting that she is wrong (/chose the wrong man).

Mr. Rosehearts is a very timid man who cannot speak up for himself or for Riddle. He purposefully takes long shifts at the hospital/clinic or overseas work conferences in order to avoid confrontation.

Leona considers Kifaji (annoying as he is) to be the closest thing he has to a real parent or guardian, as his own father was often busy with royal duties or bedridden to spend time with him. He would never EVER say this to Kifaji’s face though, he has too much pride on the line for that.

Kifaji would scold the other servants for speaking ill of “just a child”, but he’s only one man and cannot control an entire palace (or country’s) worth of rumors. He’d also try to comfort Leona in his own ways, like taking the time to play chess with him when no one else would or trying to offer advice and praise.

Leona and Falena used to be close (Falena was first in line to hold his newborn baby brother), but as they grew up, they gradually became estranged. Falena desperately wishes to refonnext, but Leona has zero interest in it.

Mrs. Ashengrotto fake cries and pouts when Azul turns down the smorgasbord of dishes she prepares for him whenever he comes home.

A lot of people believe that Mrs. Ashengrotto got together with her divorce lawyer, but it’s never actually explicitly stated or implied that this is the case. She just MET her now husband while she was going through the divorce—but hey, nothing is stopping me from headcanoning that her new husband was her divorce attorney because that’s too silly for me not to.

Najma used to have a crush on Kalim when they were kids and this absolutely mortified Jamil. (“This isn’t a fairy tale! You can’t just marry the first rich guy you see and live happily ever after!”) Thankfully, she’s out of that phase now but occasionally Najma WILL intentionally say something sus (like mentioning that his visiting classmates are cute) while Jamil is around just to annoy him.

As a kid, Jamil used to try warming eggs with his hands in hopes it would hatch into a baby parrot. Then he actually SAW an image of a baby parrot and called it pathetic (and wanted one more than ever).

Vil has actually bumped into his biological mother once, but since he does not know her identity, he did not recognize her as his mother and continued walking by. Missed connections 💀

When Vil still lived in Jack’s neighborhood, they’d play together, since Jack was one of the few kids who didn’t see him as the villains he played on TV.

Mrs. Shroud was the one that romantically pursued Mr. Shroud. He was apprehensive about dating (due to worrying that his curse would only burden her and any future children they have), but Mrs. Shroud took it surprisingly well and remained loyal to him. To this very day, he wonders what did he do to deserve a woman like her.

Idia used to want a dog, until one of the S.T.Y.X. employees brought in three of theirs to work and they all rushed at Idia, tackled him, and slobbered all over his face. Since then, he’s been more of a cat person.

Malleus often finds himself wondering or daydreaming about what kinds of people his parents were. This happens a lot when he’s wandering ruins; he imagines the buildings in their glory days and the types of people that lived and did business there.

He sometimes tells the gargoyles about his parents as if he actually knew them at all. It’s strangely therapeutic for him, though Malleus couldn’t articulate why that is if you asked him to.

137 notes · View notes

creatingblackcharacters · 2 days ago

Note

Thank you so much for the work you put into this blog.

I'm in the early stages of writing a book that's set in close to modern times. I'm white, but many of my friends, and myself, have had many negative experiences regarding police, and I want my book to talk about that. Its close enough to me that it will be a central theme in the story.

I've been reading a lot and I have every intention of hiring a sensitivity reader when I get to that point, but I'm still fleshing out the story. Right now, all of my main characters have had negative interactions with police, and two of them are Black.

My question is how do I handle the topic of police brutality as a white person? Given the setting, having my Black characters not experience it when the white characters do strikes me as ignoring systemic racism, and that is the opposite of what I want.

Are there other things I can read to better familiarize myself with police violence and how that manifests differently for Black people? Should I avoid describing that?

😅 I don't- I must be honest, this one snatched my breath a little bit. Forgive me, I just can't imagine the privilege of not knowing.

Well first, your friends have varied experience with police violence; none of them are Black that you can talk to? Because if they are, and you haven't had that discussion, that indicates that there's a level of safety they don't feel with you. Not saying that's the case, but if it is... I would pause writing this story in lieu of building your relationships. It would help to consider how the police treated you, versus someone Black in a similar scenario as you. So look into cases like that.

As for this, I mean... The news 😅 police brutality against Black people is so regular that I find myself struggling sometimes to remember which body got which murder over the years, there's so many. Start reading Black abolitionists who write on the topic, for sure. There are also activists who write on it in general; The New Jim Crow is an easy one; even though it's older, things have gotten no better. The documentary 13th; runs in the similar vein of how law enforcement, policy, and the prison industrial complex preys on Black bodies using "color blind" racism to fill prisons for free labor.

Actually, I'm gonna issue you a personal challenge- I also want you to find five news article examples of police brutality against Black people and read both the articles AND some of the comment section of white commenters. I promise by the time you're done, you'll see how police brutality against Black people is responded to. Hell, even on here. Sonya Massey, Jordan Neely; the antiblackness bled from the average Tumblr commenter on those cases.

Read articles of the families left behind and how even in death, we cannot rest; George Floyd's murder sparked mass protest in Summer 2020 and people still tease his daughter about her father's murder. You can even go back in time and read, from lynchings in the 30s to the riots in the 60s and 90s; the rhetoric is generally the same, even if the language isn't overt anymore.

#creatingblackcharacters #thatsjusttips

97 notes · View notes

makeitmingi · 3 days ago

Text

All Eyes On Me

Genre: Romance, College/School!AU

Pairing: Jongho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: NewStudent!Reader, Fiance/Student!Jongho, Student!Hongjoong, Student!Seonghwa, Student!Yunho, Student!Yeosang, Student!San, Student!Mingi, Student!Wooyoung,

Summary: Hearing that your boyfriend got injured, you decided to come back to Korea earlier than planned to take care of him. However, as you enrolled in his school as a new student, you didn't realise just how much attention would be on you.

[Warning(s): Maybe some bullying, snide remarks being thrown around and elitism. This plotline is stereotypical, going back to secret romances in school between a 'random' girl and the popular, rich boy in school. This takes place in a kind of college-setting. This is a work of fiction and does not reflect real Korean schools, students and the Ateez members.]

Word count: 13.8K

"Did you hear about the new student?"

"New student? Who joins in the middle of a semester? Unless she's an international student or something. "

"I'm not sure but she's probably someone important. The entire head office is running around now. I think she's arriving later so we'll see who it is."

The school was in a buzz at the newest piece of gossip regarding a new student that was joining. With a student population that consisted of inheritors and high profile students, gossip and news always spread quickly.

"So, I heard that she's lived all over the place then decided to come back to Korea because her father's headquarters is here. They're done setting up all the international branches." Wooyoung said.

"Really?" San lifted his head from his iPad. Jongho also looked up, hearing the information Wooyoung just shared.

"Ooh, international kid." Mingi smirked.

"She was still born in Korea, silly. But I don't know much else about her but she must be an inheritor. Maybe I should ask my uncle." Wooyoung raised his eyebrow.

Wooyoung's uncle was on the board of directors for the academy, alongside Seonghwa's grandmother and Yeosang's aunt.

"Why are you so curious, hyung?" Jongho asked.

"I just like to be in the know of gossip. The other gossip here is so boring." Wooyoung snickered. Hongjoong scoffed, knowing exactly what Wooyoung was like.

"We should stay out of gossip." Hongjoong interfered and Seonghwa hummed in agreement.

The 8 of them were the 'princes' of the academy, coming from some of the richest families in the region. The other students reverred them and of course, the girls were crazy over them. All 8 of them were rich and good looking, being able to charm their way to get whatever they wanted.

"There's enough gossip going around about Jongho's injury." Yeosang pointed out. Yunho hit Yeosang's head for bringing up the taboo topic that no one else dared to bring up.

"It's fine, hyung. It's just gossip." Jongho said to Yunho with a sigh.

It was no secret that Jongho hurt his knee right before the baseball season was supposed to start.

Now, everyone was wondering if he would be out of the entire baseball season, meaning the academy's baseball would be losing one of their aces.

"Don't worry, they got other aces." Wooyoung grinned, slinging his arm around Jongho, who pinched the older's hand.

Jongho, San and Wooyoung were in the baseball team. All the boys were involved in multiple extracurricular activities, it only added more positive things to their image and their reputation.

"We better head to class." Seonghwa said, packing up his book once he saw the time on his watch.

As they entered the hallway, the crowd split like the red sea, making way for them.

"Need help, Jong?" San asked. Jongho shook his head, adjusting his backpack over his shoulder, he was on a crutch to keep his weight off his injured knee.

"Alright, we'll see everyone after class. Stay out of trouble." Hongjoong warned the others before they broke apart to go to their respective classes. He and Seonghwa, being the oldest, were the always responsible for the others.

"No promises." Wooyoung grinned mischievously. Seonghwa sighed, shaking his head.

"Let's go." Yunho, Yeosang, Mingi, San and Wooyoung went to their classes. Jongho, who was the youngest of the group, was in the lowest grade.

"Sure, you don't want us to walk you to class?" Yunho checked before they were about to enter their own class.

"I'm good, really. Please stop fussing over me." Jongho sighed.

"Alright, little bro. We'll see you after class." Mingi ruffled Jongho's hair, tucking his hands into his pockets. Jongho frowned in annoyance, slapping Mingi's hands away.

"Doesn't mean I'm on crutches now, I won't still beat you up, hyung." Jongho threatened.

"Help." Mingi yelped and ducked behind Yunho, the only one that was tall enough to shield his own tall body from others.

"That's enough. See you, Jongho ah." Yeosang pushed the others into the classroom, not wanting to be late or make Jongho late for his own class. Jongho nodded and waved before going to his class.

"Jongho sshi, apologies for the inconvenience but the headmaster would like to meet you in his office." The teacher came in.

Even the teachers and other staff in the academy spoke to the 8 boys with respect, like they were their employees, despite them being so much younger. It was probably because they were scared of the repurcussions from the families if they were to disrespect one of the boys. Their families were that influential.

"Sure. I'll take my leave." Jongho bowed, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading out of the classroom. As Jongho approached the main office, the headmaster's secretary was there waiting.

"Mr Choi, apologies for the inconvenience and abrupt notice." The secretary bowed to him.

"Nothing to apologise for." Jongho shook his head. The secretary opened the door for him to enter. He limped in, following the woman.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Sir? Mr Choi is here." The secretary said before opening the door, walking in. When Jongho entered the office, his gaze fell onto the person sitting opposite the headmaster.

"You know the whole school is buzzing because of you?" Jongho smirked.

"Why?" You blinked.

"Wondering just who you are. The mysterious new student who is joining the middle of the semester." Jongho teasing smirk melded into a soft smile, one of affection and love.

"Oh, please." You rolled your eyes, giggling. The headmaster smiled and gestured for Jongho to sit beside you.

"It is an honour that you chose our school to continue your studies, Miss (y/l/n). As an academy, we pride ourselves in ensuring the safety and privacy of our students here." The headmaster smiled, bowing his head to you.

"Ah, don't be so formal, sir. It's fine." You smiled. You were always awkward when someone treated you so highly, as if your family wasn't one of the richest in the region.

"This is your class schedule. As per your request, we did not put you and Mr Choi in the same class." The headmaster said.

"Thank you." You received the paper.

"Why did you ask to be in a separate class from me? Just say you hate me." Jongho shot you an offended look. You shot him a flat look, knowing he was doing this on purpose.

"You know that we discussed this, we should hide our relationship. We don't have to be together 24/7." You scoffed.

"Umm, should I change your classes to put you together? I can change it here in my system if you'd like." The headmaster suggested.

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

You and Jongho spoke at the same time, making the headmaster confused. In the end, your class schedule stayed the same and you left the office with a slightly sulky Jongho.

"It's just classes, Jong. We'll see each other before school and after school. And remember, you said you wanted to maintain privacy at the school. Even your friends don't know who I am and what our relationship is." You reasoned. Jongho held your hand in his, kissing your knuckles.

"You want to announce our relationship to the school? I'll do it." He said seriously.

"You know that's not what I mean." You pouted. He wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you in to hug you. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Still can't believe you're back here." He said softly, reminding himself of the fact that you were really here, in the flesh.

"You know I was always going to come back." You chuckled.

"I know but for you to be back to quickly... Maybe there is actually an advantage to being injured." He joked. You pulled away from the hug with a deep frown.

"Don't joke like that." You frowned.

"Alright, alright. My bad. Sorry, sweet girl." He stroked your hair. He knew you were the most worried about him being injured.

"Thank you, see you again." The flight attendant bowed to you as you headed for the exit of the plane. You bowed back to her, a soft thank you back, as you walked through the arrow bridge.

"Miss (y/l/n)." Your family driver was waiting for you in the arrival hall once you got your bags.

"Mr Lee. It's nice to see you again." You smiled upon seeing his familiar face. All the staff that worked for your family was like real family to you. And especially the older ones, who saw you grow up, treated you like a daughter.

"Mr Choi is at home, waiting for your arrival. It took a lot of convincing for him not to come." Mr Lee chuckled as he opened the door of the car for you to enter.

"I don't want him coming in his condition. What if we get ambushed by the press?" You sighed.

"That would not be safe. For the both of you." Mr Lee smiled softly.

"Exactly. Thank you." You said to him as he closed the door. You waited for him to load your bags into the boot before entering the driver's side of the car.

"It's good to be home." You sighed, sinking into the seat.

"It's good to have you home, miss. I hope you and your parents have been well?" The driver asked.

"Yeah. We're supposed to come back in two months together but you know, after hearing about Jongho's injury, I requested to come back earlier than them." You said.

"You're very kind, miss. Mr Choi is very lucky to have you care for him." Mr Lee chuckled.

"Well, I'm lucky to have him too." You giggled. Once the car pulled up to the driveway of your family home, you saw Jongho waiting by the front door for you with your butler. He must have come out after hearing from the guard that your car had passed through the front gates of the estate.

"Miss." The butler opened the door for you. As Jongho limped over as fast as he could.

"Jong-"

"You're home. You're finally home, my love." He didn't care that his crutch dropped to the ground. He was just so happy to have you back, to be able to hug you again.

"I missed you too." You wrapped your arms around him. The staff of the house looked on fondly at the two of you.

"I missed you more." He breathed out.

You and Jongho grew up together and eventually got into a relationship but with your parents growing the family business, they wanted you to follow them overseas when you were old enough.

That meant leaving Jongho for periods of time. This time, you were in the UK for two years.

"Let's get you two into the house." The butler said with a smile, picking Jongho's crutch up and passing it to him.

"How's your knee? You shouldn't be standing for too long." You said worriedly. You didn't really know how bad Jongho's knee injury was, you only heard about it from his brother.

"I'm okay. I don't feel the pain. The doctor just wants to observe the progress and ensure that I keep my weight off the knee." He said, walking alongside you into the grand foyer of the house. You both sat down on the couch.

"Welcome home, my love." He kissed the back of your hand, pulling you in and letting you lean your head against his chest.

"Thank you. I'm home now and I'll make sure to take care of you through your recovery." You assured, determination in your voice. Jongho laughed and let out a hum.

"And since we're going to be school mates, means we'll get to see each other more." You pointed out.

"That's right... Actually, I wanted to speak to you about that." Jongho said, making you straighten up. He sat up as well.

"We both like our privacy when it comes to... personal matters. I know we can't help it that we're born into this sort of life but in school, I want to protect you from all the drama." He decided.

"Protect me?" You tilted your head in confusion.

"I'm sure you know the academy has high profile, rich kids from everywhere." He started.

"Since you're new, it may be safer to keep our relationship under wraps. Not that I am ashamed or anything. But we've seen what people will do to get ahead..." He cleared his throat.

"I understand and I agree. Thank you for having my best interests at heart." You laughed.

"Always." He squeezed your hand. Jongho decided not to tell his 7 friends about you yet. You were just a private part of his life that he didn't want to share. Yes, they may know you and your family but they didn't know just how deep your relationship with Jongho was. Afterall, you were hardly around.

The moment you entered your class, you felt everyone's eyes and attention on you. You gulped slightly and bowed your head before introducing yourself.

"I'm (y/n). I actually just gave back to Korea after living abroad for a while so it may take me a while to adjust. Please take care of me."

"You can take any of the empty seats, miss." Your teacher gestured politely.

Despite your protests, your parents and Jongho made sure that the staff at the school knew of your status and family background. You were not a regular student, even if you insist that you are.

"Hi, I'm Hinazuki Kayo. Nice to meet you." The girl next to you whispered, smiling at you.

"H-Hi. Nice to meet you." You gave an awkward smile, extending your hand to shake her own. She giggled before facing the front where the teacher was speaking.

After class, you were packing up when Kayo approached you.

"I know it can be daunting, being the new student here. If you'd like, I can show you around?" She offered.

"That would be great, actually. Thanks." You let out a sigh of relief. Maybe you had just made your first friend here. The two of you walked out together. That was when you really felt all the stares.

"Ignore them." Kayo smiled softly.

"I guess it's really rare for someone to join in the middle of the semester." You let out a sigh. Kayo nodded with sympathy and led you to the cafeteria. It was packed, with different groups of students gathering with their friends.

"There's a spare table there." You pointed, beginning to walk to the spare table in the corner.

"Woah, woah. Stop there. I guess the first thing I should tell you about this school is the 8 princes. That's their table, no one sits there but them." She grabbed your hand to stop you.

"8 princes?" Your eyes widened.

"Not actual princes... Well, they very much could be. But they're the richest, most influential people in the academy." She explained.

"Oh, I see." You nodded. When you met the staring gaze of other students, you awkwardly bowed your head. You figured some recognised you or your name.

"Let's sit here." Kayo found some seats for the two of you to sit together.

"So, you said you lived abroad before? Where did you used to stay?" Kayo asked.

"Yeah, my parents travel a lot for work and I follow along. So before this, I was in the UK. Before that, it was Singapore and America for a few months." You said.

"Wow. I came from Japan because my father moved the regional office here." She explained.

"Oh, and I lived in Japan for a bit too." You spoke Japanese. Kayo's jaw dropped before her eyes sparkled and she began rambling to you in Japanese, excited to have someone to speak to. You were a little glad Kayo didn't know you or your family, it felt like a genuine friendship, not one because of your status.

"I knew I recognised you, (y/n)! I can't believe it. You're actually back." Someone approached you.

"Mingyu! Hey, it's been a while. How have you been?" You smiled and let him pull you into a brief hug. Your parents and Mingyu's parents were friends so you did know him.

"You're back permanently?" He asked.

"That's the plan." You chuckled.

"That's her." Wooyoung said, nodding over to where you were chatting with Mingyu. The other 7 all looked to where he was referring to.

"She's pretty." Mingi complimented as they all took their seats at their regular cafeteria table.

"Oh my god. I recognise her. She's (y/n) (y/l/n)." Hongjoong suddenly said.

"Wait, daughter of the (y/l/n) family?" Yeosang clarified. Hongjoong nodded his head. Of course they knew of your family, your parents were always at big galas and functions for socialites.

"I mean, I've only seen her a few times but I'm pretty sure that's her." Hongjoong said.

You never liked attending business functions unless you absolutely had to. You found them stuffy and boring, Jongho knew that. That's how the two of you were able to hide your friendship and relationship for so long.

"Damn, she should be sitting at our table then." Yunho joked. Jongho remained quiet, if he had a choice, you would most definitely be sitting at their table.

"My father did say that Mr (y/l/n) was coming back to Korea since they successfully set up their British office." Seonghwa added.

Seonghwa's family business and your family business was similar so your parents often worked together.

"Jongho, are you alright?" San asked, noticing the grim expression on Jongho's face. With San's words, the table's attention was suddenly on the youngest.

"I'm fine." He mumbled, taking his phone out to pretend to be distracted with something else.

"Those are the 8 princes." Kayo leaned over to whisper as you both headed back to your table. You looked up and nearly choked.

Jongho was one of the 8 princes.

"A-Ah, I see..." You nodded but didn't say anything further, turning your attention back to your food to start eating. Kayo shot you an amuzed look, making you blink in confusion.

"You're the first girl that didn't swoon for the 8 princes. You're definitely different, (y/n)." Kayo giggled while you shrugged.

"Whether it's envy, jealousy or fangirling, everyone here does it from a distance. They mainly stay within their own circle and no one dares to really interact with them. They're too afraid of what will happen to them if they cross the boys." She sighed. You nodded slowly, the rumours made them so scary but they weren't.

"I'm sure that's not the case. They're just people, like everyone else. But alright, I'll heed your advice and steer clear." You said, casting glances at Jongho.

*BZZ BZZ*

'Forget the privacy and the secrets. I want you to sit here with me and have lunch with me. - Jongho'

'No, don't. You'll freak my friend out. - (y/n)'

'Some people already know who you are anyway. All my hyungs know who you are. Don't forget, Seonghwa hyung's parents work with your parents a lot. - Jongho'

'One of them even said that you should be sitting at our table and I AGREE! - Jongho'

'Don't be a baby. - (y/n)'

'Wow, that's your best comeback? - Jongho'

You sighed and tucked your phone back into your pocket, giving your lunch and Kayo all your attention. Jongho let out a soft sigh, putting his phone back as Yeosang handed him his food tray.

"Thanks, hyung." Jongho said. With his injured knee, the others usually helped him with things like getting lunch from the counter. As the others sat down, he noticed that there was one person that wasn't back from the lunch counter.

*SEONGHWA HYUNG?!* Jongho's eyes widened when he saw Seonghwa approaching you to speak with you.

He watched with a sharp eye as you stood up, both you and Seonghwa bowing to each other, having some sort of conversation with friendly smiles.

With another bow of your heads, Seonghwa headed back to their table while you sat down to talk to your friend.

"Wow, hyung. Getting friendly?" Yunho teased as Seonghwa sat down in his seat.

"Just saying hi and welcoming her back to Korea. That's all. Our parents work together so it's only right that I say hi." Seonghwa said, beginning to eat his lunch.

"What else did you find out?" Mingi asked.

"Nothing, really. She said she's gonna take on more prominent roles in her father's company so we'll probably see each other more." He shrugged.

"Aww, cute. Maybe soon, Seonghwa hyung will invite her to sit with us?" Wooyoung giggled, resting his head on his hand.

"Okay, that's enough. Don't be rude to her." Hongjoong chided, not caring about shading Seonghwa but you. Jongho let out a soft sigh of relief at Hongjoong's words, finishing up his food. The others didn't question his silence, he was known to be quiet and aloof, especially in public with others around.

"I'm going to the restroom." Jongho stood up. The others nodded, commenting that they'll help him put his tray back. He grabbed his bag and went to the restroom.

When he was done, he washed his hands and came out, only to nearly bump into someone.

"I'm so sorry!" Your first instinct was to apologise. Then you looked up, eyes widening slightly when you realised who it was.

"Omg, did you see that? She nearly bumped into Jongho."

"What if he fell and got even more injured? That would have been horrible. I feel sorry for her." The students that witnessed the near accident whispered.

"Sorry, Jongho sshi! She's new." Kayo was quick to jump in, apologising as the two of you bowed.

"It's fine." Jongho mumbled and limped away. He hated being treated so differently than you and that he had to be a stranger to you.

"Are you okay, (y/n)?" Kayo asked once Jongho had walked away. You nodded, you didn't actually bump into Jongho so you knew that both of you weren't injured.

"Yeah, I'm fine. How much trouble am I in?" You asked, pretending that you were actually fearful of Jongho, like the rest of the student population. Of course you were not afraid of him, he was your sweet, Jongho. You've known him for too long to be afraid of him.

"You'll be fine, (y/n). And you seem to know Seonghwa sshi so it's all good." Kayo patted your shoulder.

"By the way, that guy was Jongho. He's the youngest of the princes, our age. He's one of the sportier ones so you would see his picture a lot at the sports clubs." She informed.

"Oh. Do they all do a lot of sports?"

"Some do, some are more arts focused. I heard Jongho sshi is in baseball, soccer and he sings too." She tilted her head.

"Wow, that is a lot of activities. But he had a crutch?" You continued to act like you didn't know anything about Jongho. Honestly, you were curious on the students' perception of the princes.

"Yeah, he hurt his knee during practice two weeks ago. It's the main topic for a lot of gossip now." She said.

"Why? I mean, it's just an injury, right? All atheletes suffer some sort of injury." You reasoned.

"Yeah but Jongho sshi's one of the aces in baseball. And the baseball competition season is starting soon. This injury could be detrimental to our school's baseball ranking." She explained.

"Oh..." You nodded your head. The two of you returned to your class and sat back down in your seats.

"But it's all rumours since no one knows how bad his knee injury actually is. They just want something to talk about so they spread rumours about how he won't play this season or that he can't play sports anymore with how serious his knee is." Kayo rolled her eyes, also seemingly annoyed by the rumours.

"That's horrible. He's still a person, I'm sure he's not ignorant to these rumours that are being passed around." You frowned, your heart hurting from how Jongho was being spoken about.

"They're the 8 richest, most influential students in the school. They're always the center of gossip." She sighed.

"It's just how it is." She shrugged, your conversation being interrupted when the teacher came in to begin the class.

"Why the frown?" Jongho put his book down as you trudged in, falling onto the couch. After your driver picked you up, you were sent to Jongho's penthouse apartment, where you usually stayed.

"I forgot how much I hated school." You mumbled.

"Why? What happened, love?" He scooted over, gently stroking your head. He was so loving and gentle with you.

When you started travelling with your parents more, they decided to homeschool you. You learnt through video calls with all your tutors as you travelled.

"The politics of it all... It's so... disgusting." You frowned.

"I know. But this is our life." Jongho sighed. You nodded glumly, sitting up.

"Well, how was your day? Aside from the fact that we nearly bumped into each other and now the student population thinks that you're gonna blacklist me from every company and basically ruin my future forever and ever." You grinned.

"Ha, ha. Very funny. I don't like that we are acting like we don't know each other. That means you're somewhat closer to Seonghwa hyung than I am." He grunted.

"Seonghwa is just a friend I know through our parents, you know that." You giggled.

"Still. He got to go talk to you and smile with you while I had to sit there and WATCH." He glared.

"You're cute when you're jealous." You teased.

"I'm not jealous." He growled but the tightening grip on your waist told you otherwise. After sitting with Jongho for a bit, you went to take a shower, wanting to get out of the uniform.

"You still look like you have something on your mind." Jongho noted as you dried your hair.

"It's nothing, really." You shook your head.

"You heard about the rumours from your new friend, right? The rumours about my injury and how I might not be able to play sports anymore." He raised an eyebrow.

"They're horrible, Jong..." You said sadly. Jongho came over, grasping your chin between his fingers to lift your head up.

"Hey, look at me. They're just rumours, hmm? They don't know me, they don't know you, they don't know us. Don't let them get to you, we know the truth. They just need something to talk about and who better to target than one of us?" He searched your eyes, comforting you. You wrapped your arms around him.

"I love you. I'm really glad to be back here with you." You said, burying your face against his chest. Jongho hummed, rubbing your back as he kissed your temple.

"Same here. I'm happy you're back in my arms and that I don't have to worry about when you're leaving again." He whispered.

"It must not have been easy, I'm sorry." You looked up at him.

"Nothing to apologise for. It is our lives and what we're born into. And it's not been easy on both of us, not just me. But we did it, we worked through it all." He chuckled.

The two of you moved to rest on the bed, not wanting to stand any longer and put more stress on Jongho's knee.

"Love, I know we talked about keeping things as private as possible but would you be open to me telling the others about you?" He asked.

"It's up to you, Jong. They're your best friends and they deserve to know before the rest of the school." You said.

"You think the rest of the school will find out soon?"

"Seeing as to how much they gossip about things, I do think they'll find out sooner or later. We just have to be mentally ready for it, I guess. Everyone's bound to find out eventually." You sighed. Jongho knew what you meant and nodded in agreement.

"I'll find the opportunity to tell them. I mean, if you and Seonghwa hyung are gonna be working together now that you're in Korea, it's best that he knows." He rubbed his forehead.

"Yeah. You tell him. I know him on a professional level while you know him on a personal level." You hummed.

"Sure, I'll make sure that they don't bother you too much at school once they know." He promised.

"Thank you. I've just made my first friend there and I would not like to scare her away with all 8 of you there." You giggled before leaving the room to get an ice pack for his knee.

"Does it hurt? I know the doctor gave you pain meds, just in case." You asked, wrapping the gel pack in a towel and laying it over his knee.

"It's fine. Just sore. I don't need the meds. I have a follow up in 2 days." He informed.

"Alright, we'll go after school?" You suggested. Jongho nodded, you were serious when you said that you came back to take care of him and he was very grateful for it.

Jongho know that you have even been researching on healthy foods to cook for him to aid in his recovery and forms of alternative medicine to see if there were better options for his treatment.

"Alright, love. No more research and reading." He placed his hand in front of your iPad. Traditional Korean medicine was something that you and Jongho have been thinking of since the physiotherapy that Jongho has been doing biannually for old injuries does not seem to be helping him much.

"This is more complicated since it's an old injury, Jong. We have to take it seriously." You said, a worried frown on his face.

"I know. But for now, let's see what Dr Min says in two days and speak to him about forms of alternative medicine, hmm?" He suggested, voice gentle and coaxing.

"Okay." You gave in, putting your iPad aside.

"Oh yeah, my parents asked to meet you for dinner. I told them tomorrow night, is that okay?" He asked.

"Of course! I haven't seen Mama Choi and Papa Choi in a long time." You giggled.

"After all these years, you still call them that." He chuckled. Growing up with Jongho and being around his parents, you affectionately called them 'Mama Choi' and 'Papa Choi'.

"It's a special nickname, okay?" You defended, faking an offended look. Jongho laughed and adjusted the pillow.

When you woke up, you heard rummaging downstairs and grew worried. You assumed only members from yours and Jongho's families had access to this penthouse.

You looked over at Jongho, who was sleeping soundly. You didn't want to wake him up when it could be nothing so you got out of bed and went downstairs to see, thinking that maybe it was Jongho's parents or younger brother.

They wouldn't usually come over unannounced but with Jongho's injury, they were coming over to drop things off for Jongho.

"Jongho, I know you told us not to come over but I need some place quiet to work and my parents have people over at my hou- OH!" San yelped when he saw you there.

"Ah!" You nearly jumped out of your skin, seeing an unfamiliar male emerge from the kitchen.

"What happened?!" Jongho came out in a rush. From the top of the stairs, Jongho saw you and San frozen in your spots.

"Hyung! I told everyone not to just show up anymore." Jongho hissed, coming downstairs and pushing you behind him, not like San was going to hurt you but he instinctively just moved to protect you.

"I didn't know you had... guests!" San's cheeks flushed as he cleared his throat.

"It's not like that. Don't say that, it's disrespectful to (y/n)." Jongho sighed, knowing what San was hinting at.

"You're the new girl at school, aren't you? You know Seonghwa hyung..." Now, San directed his questions at you. You stepped out from behind Jongho, nodding your head.

"Ah, sorry. When I said we'll tell the others soon, I didn't mean in a few hours... They always come over but I told them not to just spontaneously show up anymore since I knew you were coming back." Jongho sighed, pinching his nose bridge. You smiled and shook your head.

"It's fine, Jong." You smiled. San watched the whole exchange between you and Jongho.

"You don't have to explain to me, Jongho ah. I think I understand, sorry for intruding... But hi, I'm Choi San." San gave you a friendly smile, his dimple popping through.

"Don't apologise, it's more like me intruding on what you guys do with Jongho. I'm (y/n)." You reached forward to shake his hand.

"You're never intruding." Jongho denied with a frown.

"I'll go. I'll see you two at school." San waved. Jongho walked San to the door, stopping him before the older could leave. Jongho held San's arm, trying to find a way to explain to him.

"It's okay, Jong. Your secret is safe with me. You tell the others when you're ready." San patted his shoulder.

"Thanks, hyung." Jongho let out a soft sigh of relief and closed the door.

"This is your house too, you know? So what's all this talk about intruding?" Jongho asked you, a questioning eyebrow raised. You laughed, going to the kitchen.

"Hey, I'm serious, (y/n). This isn't just my house anymore. Now that you're back, it's also your house." Jongho came to the kitchen. You nodded with a hum, smiling at him, pouring him an iced coffee from the jug in the fridge.

"I know, Jongho. And I'm grateful for that, to have a place we can call our home." You stood in front of him, sipping your own coffee.

"Wow, the whole industry is in a buzz about you and (y/n) potentially collaborating together for projects." Yunho said to Seonghwa, reading the article from his phone.

"We're supposed to take over the company from our parents so I do foresee that as we take on more responsibilities." Seonghwa nodded.

"Omg, will there a business marriage? The two industry heads coming together." Wooyoung gasped.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We're just business partners." Seonghwa sighed, taking a sip of his juice. Jongho pursed his lips, trying not to mention anything.

"Good morning, (y/n)." Seonghwa greeted just as you walked past with your friend, Kayo.

"Good morning, Seonghwa." You smiled, bowing your head to the rest of the group, who all sent friendly smiles and waves back.

"Hey, (y/n) sshi. You know, since you know Seonghwa hyung and stuff. Wanna join us for lunch later? Your friend can sit with us too." Mingi invited. Jongho's eyes widened slightly at Mingi's boldness.

"Oh, uh... I don't know..." You were unsure whether you were supposed to agree. Kayo grasped your hand, looking up at you with excitement, begging you to accept. You glanced at Jongho for 2 seconds, not long enough that anyone could see. But with Kayo's excitement, you gave in, nodding your head.

"Great. See you!" The taller grinned.

"See you later." You replied politely, bowing your head again. Kayo bowed to them also before following you.

"You dropped formalities with her?" San asked Seonghwa. Only when he pointed it out then Jongho noticed it too, since when were you close with Seonghwa to drop formalities?

"I mean, we see each other at meetings and stuff. It's not a big deal so don't make it one." Seonghwa scoffed.

"Let's continue this on the way to class." Yeosang said, checking his watch.

"I can't believe you invited her to sit with us for lunch. She looked so uncomfortable." Yunho shook his head in disapproval and punched Mingi's arm, who just chuckled and shrugged.

"She's my fiance." Jongho blurted.

"What? Did you say something?" Hongjoong tilted his head, having heard the youngest say something while walking at the back.

"(y/n). She's my fiance. She's not just my girlfriend, we're going to get married." Jongho said firmly, his face had no sign that he was joking or pranking the others.

"WHAT?!" Wooyoung yelled and San instinctively covered his best friend's mouth as the other students turned to look at them. Hongjoong was shocked as well but he ushered everyone into the male bathroom.

"Everyone. Out." He ordered. The students inside nodded and scurried out. Once the stalls were checked to be empty, Hongjoong locked the door.

"Explain." Seonghwa spoke.

"There's nothing to explain. (y/n) and I grew up together, we just keep our friendship under wraps." Jongho explained.

"You've never mentioned any of this!" Mingi gasped.

"Like I said, under wraps. Then before she left to the UK, I proposed to her and she accepted. We agreed we'll actually get married when we graduate." He continued.

"Woah, I... It's like you have this whole secret life we didn't know about." Yunho whistled.

"And I just thought she was your girlfriend." San said, making Jongho facepalm.

"You knew?" Suddenly all heads turned to San.

"San hyung came into my house, even though I explicitly told all of you not to. Then they bumped into one another there cause (y/n) thought someone broke in." Jongho glared at San.

"I already apologised, alright? Geez. How was I supposed to know someone else would be there." San defended, holding his hands up.

"Anyway, we're keeping it secret, alright? We don't like or need the extra attention, even the news outlets don't know. That's why I didn't mention it and we act like we don't know each other in school. She knows I'm telling you guys but please, don't say anything or question her." Jongho pleaded with his hyungs.

"Alright, we'll respect both your wishes. We'll act like we don't know anything when we meet in school." Hongjoong agreed and the others nodded their heads, seeing how desperate Jongho was.

"We better go, we're late." Seonghwa reminded and they all exited the bathroom, going their separate ways.

"Jongho's really good at keeping secrets... I seriously can't believe you knew." Wooyoung said to San as the 5 of them walked to class.

"It was an accident. And it wasn't my place or secret to tell. I promised Jongho I wouldn't say anything until he and (y/n) were ready." San shrugged.

"He's a great partner though. Protective, affectionate, really different when he's with her." He added.

"Jongho? Affectionate?" Mingi scoffed.

"That's because you all force him into hugs. Even Wooyoung tries to kiss his cheek from time to time." Yeosang pointed out. He's one of the few that also shys away from physical affection.

"True." Yunho burst out laughing, Jongho would always threaten them with physical harm if they tried to get too close.

'The others know. They promised not to act different when we're in school so don't worry. - Jongho'

You smiled to yourself as you read Jongho's text, quickly sending a reply before tucking your phone back into your pocket. you weren't worried, if Jongho trusts the others as his best friends, then you'll trust them too.

Plus, Jongho assured you that even if they may be chaotic and mischievous, they are genuinely nice people. Not like the snobs you both usually encounter.

"Are you nervous, (y/n)?" Kayo whispered, covering her mouth with a small giggle.

"Hmm?" You blinked.

"Sitting with them during lunch later... But you know Seonghwa sshi, right? Maybe I am the one who should be nervous, what if I say the wrong thing?" Her eyes widened with anxiousness.

"Yes, I know Seonghwa but Kayo, you'll be fine. Nothing will go wrong." You assured her with a small smile.

"Alright, I'll follow your cues for the conversation." She smiled and you nodded your head.

When it was finally lunch, you packed up your things and headed to the cafeteria with Kayo walking alongside you. Seonghwa and Hongjoong were already seated there.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea." Kayo held your arm.

"It'll be okay. They're just people like you and me, don't be afraid." You laughed. But then you realised why Kayo was worried. Looking around, you noticed how people were staring and whispering as the two of you approached the table were Seonghwa and Hongjoong were. They gasped when you sat down.

"The others should be here soon. Sometimes they wait for Jongho to help him. But you can get your food first if you'd like." Seonghwa smiled at the two of you.

"We're good to wait, Seonghwa. Thanks. I'm (y/n)." You introduced yourself to Hongjoong.

"Hongjoong. We've met that the Prime Minister's gala 2 years ago, I think?" Hongjoong reminded with a chuckle.

"Ah! Did we? Sorry, there are so many people to meet at these events. I'm sorry." You apologised. Hongjoong shook his head, he understood where you were coming from.

"I'm Kayo." You let Kayo introduce herself to the two.

Just then, from the corner of your eye, you saw the other 6 enter the cafeteria with Jongho.

"Ah, they're finally here." Seonghwa said. You sent them a friendly smile or rather, you were smiling at Jongho. Jongho cracked a small smile in return.

"Nice to meet you all. I'm (y/n)." You introduced yourselves to them and they did the same, reaching over to shake your hand.

"Let's continue while we get our food." Yunho said. You all walked together, the boys chatting with you and Kayo, of course they didn't leave her out.

"I guess now that you and your parents are back in Korea, we'll be seeing you a lot more at events?" Mingi asked. You nodded your head, it was no secret in the upper class social circles that you and your parents will be working in the Korean office now.

"My parents will be coming back in two months." You said without thinking, taking your tray of food with you.

"Oh, why did you come back early then?" Hongjoong asked. Jongho stiffened at Hongjoong's question, remembering he hadn't told the others why you were here in the first place.

"I just couldn't wait to be home. Was getting home sick." You covered it up with a lie.

"But our British counterparts always talk about how nice the private academies in the UK are." Wooyoung said.

"Oh, while I was travelling with my parents, I was actually homeschooled by foreign tutors since we were always moving last minute." You explained.

"Ah, no wonder you're home sick. Korean food is always the best, no?" Jongho suddenly joined.

"Nothing beats home." You agreed with a small smile.

"How is it being back in a... sort of Korean school system though?" San asked.

"Not too bad. Thankfully I have Kayo with me." You smiled gratefully. Kayo blushed, waving you off. The rest of lunch was spent with light conversation, a common topic that everyone could discuss without feeling left out. You didn't talk much then, wanting to eat your food, only adding some input here and there.

"Are you going to join some after school activities or clubs?" Jongho asked you, trying to not seem overly friendly.

"Hmm, I'm not sure. Seems like there is an overwhelming number of clubs and activities here. Maybe I'll go get some brochures to peruse. at home." You shrugged.

"No, that's not the way! You should definitely go tour the clubs." Wooyoung said.

"Yeah, there won't be a showcase exhibition like the start of the year but you should go during their trainings to see." Kayo agreed.

"It'll be a lot to go through since there are trainings and meetings for different clubs every day. I would say, narrow down your options then physically go see what works best for you." Hongjoong suggested.

"Alright, I shall do that. Thank you for all your advice." You smiled.

"Thank you, doctor." You and Jongho stood up, bowing to the doctor, who returned the small smile, albeit with a little more pity on his face.

"Let's go." Jongho held your hand, squeezing it tightly as you both exited the doctor's office. Even after closing the door behind you, you both didn't exit the hospital.

"Let's sit for a while." You said. Jongho hummed, sitting next to you on one of the chairs.

"It's okay to be upset, Jong." You spoke softly and reached up to cup his cheek. He leaned into your touch, placing his cold hand over your own, a sign of his inner turmoil.

"I'm sorry, Mr Choi. But unfortunately, with the condition of your knee, you should not be playing the rest of the season. This includes soccer. Ideally, you should not be playing any sports for at least 6 months or you'll risk permenantly damaging your knee."

"But I've been better with walking. I barely need my crutch anymore. That must be a sign of recovery." Jongho argues.

"Walking will not be as straining as running and any other training you will be doing for your sports training, Mr Choi." The doctor reasoned, looking conflicted.

"You'll need to do physiotherapy regularly to slowly build strength in your knee again." He added.

"It's still hard to hear." He admitted. You nodded in agreement. Jongho wasn't one to show his emotions outside the private space.

"I knew it wasn't going to be good but it's still hard." He let out a shaky sigh. You didn't know how to comfort Jongho now, you wished your could make his knee better.

"We'll get through this together." You promised.

"Mmm." He let out a soft hum, leaning his head on your shoulder. You reached up to stroke the back of his head.

With that, you and Jongho got a car to go back to his penthouse. You knew there was a lot weighing on his mind; telling his friends, his teams and the gossip that will spread through the school.

"Hey, I know you feel like you let a lot of people down. But you didn't, Jong. Those who truly cared about you would be happy that you're putting your health first." You said, knowing what was happening in his head. You've known him long enough to know all the crazy expectations he puts on himself.

"I'm the star player on the baseball team. What am I going to do?" He let out a soft sigh.

"You're gonna recover and get better." You placed your hand over his.

"How am I even going to tell the hyungs?" He rubs his face. You move to stand up from the couch, wanting to get him a drink, but he's quick to grip your hand.

"Don't go." He trembles.

"I won't, Jong. You know I never will." You said, sitting back down. You hugged him tightly.

No doubt, finally being together showed how much of a mental toll a long distance relationship was on both of you. Even if Jongho doesn't show his emotions much, it weighed heavily on him.

"This means I get to spend more time with you rather than training." He finally cracks a smile.

"Yes, we still have catching up to do." You return the smile. He nods and lifts your hand to kiss where your engagement ring sits.

"I don't like seeing you without this." He admits. When you're both in school, you wear your engagement ring a chain around your neck, hidden under your blouse. Jongho wears his on another finger.

"Well, I have to hide it somehow. At least it's still on me." You giggled. Jongho rolls his eyes and you kiss his cheek.

That night, Jongho invited his friends over for dinner. It was the first time you were seeing them on such a personal level and they felt the same. Even Seonghwa, you were used to seeing him at business meetings or the office, not in a home.

You let Jongho do all the talking, all you did was stay by his side and give him all the support you could give. You'd squeeze his hand back when he felt anxious.

"It's fine, Jongho ah. There's always next season, focus on your recovery." San smiled.

"Yeah, that's most important. We wouldn't risk your ability to even walk." Wooyoung nodded in agreement.

"This is still so odd to look at. I'm not used to it." Mingi tilted his head, watching your interlaced fingers that sat in Jongho's lap. Hongjoong slapped the back of his head.

"Forgive him, he just speaks his mind without thinking sometimes." Hongjoong sighed.

"It's fine." You giggled.

"Don't worry too much, maknae! After all, you should be spending time with your girlfriend, I mean fiance, now that she's back in Korea. All these sports are secondary." Yunho grinned.

"Ah, Yunho hyung, don't say it like that." Jongho rubbed the back of your neck.

"Still can't believe you kept this from us." Wooyoung scoffed.

"Can you tell us how he proposed to you?" Yeosang asked you with such a gentle smile. You knew he wasn't trying to pry, he was just genuinely curious. Jongho told you he was 'pure' like that and you could see what he meant. You turned to look at Jongho, unsure if he wanted you to tell them, knowing he likes his privacy.

"You can tell them whatever you feel comfortable telling." He assured, leaving the decision up to you.

"Actually, there wasn't much that happened. I met up and told him that I'll be going to the UK and staying there for at least the next two years." You started.

"At that point, we kind of knew that we would not be having any other partner. We were kind of used to long distance." You added.

"But this was different." Jongho held your hand. You nodded in agreement.

"We have long talked about marriage later in our lives and I'm sure our parents knew about that too. So before I left to the airport, he pulled out a ring and proposed to me." You smiled at him.

"So, when's the wedding?" Seonghwa asked.

"After we graduate. By then, we would be more present in our parents' companies and settled into careers." You said.

"That's a good plan, we can't wait for the big day to come. We're really happy for you both." Yunho had his hands together, a big grin on his face.

You were so grateful that Jongho had such supportive friends, who were all practically older brothers to him.

"Aww, look at you, cute little lovebirds." Wooyoung cooed at you and Jongho. You grew shy at his teasing, pursing your lips and looking away as you felt your cheeks heat up, while Jongho glared at the older to stop teasing you.

"Don't make me regret telling you, hyung..." Jongho glared.

As expected, the news spread like wildfire. Jongho would be out of the entire sports season for both baseball and soccer.

You felt bad, you hated the whispering and stared that he got when he walked down the hall. But there was nothing you could do.

"People will gossip." You told yourself as you took a deep breath. There was still attention on you for sitting with the 8 princes, people were beginning to be more curious on who you were.

"She thinks she's all that." A group of girls that were chatting entered the bathroom where you were.

"Well, she better-" They froze when they saw you standing there. You gulped and dried your hands, discarding the paper towel.

"Excuse me." You spoke softly, bowing your head before exiting. You let out a sigh of relief, feeling like you just escaped a bad situation. Or maybe it was all the dramas you watch online.

Whatever it is, you were glad you removed yourself. Kayo looked concerned when you entered the class.

"(y/n), are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost." Kayo frowned.

"I'm okay, don't worry." You smiled and sat down in your seat. This was something you mentally prepared yourself for and you knew that if the relationship secret gets out, it was only going to get worse. But it still felt uncomfortable with all the stares and whispers, you felt like you were being watched constantly.

After class, Kayo had to go for an emergency club meeting for lunch. You dropped a text to Jongho and took yourself to the library to get some work done.

"That's perfect." You smiled to yourself when you found a nice spot in the corner by the window.

There wasn't work that needed to be done immediately. You just wanted some quiet time alone so you decided to do work.

"Hey, new girl." Your fingers stopped, eyes moving away from your iPad to two girls that stood there, staring at you. You didn't say anything or react, waiting for them to speak again.

"Are you really an heiress?" One of them asked. You didn't say anything, internally panicking in your head.

"You must be, right? To be able to be so friendly with Seonghwa sshi and the others." Her friend said.

"Or are you a fake? Just one of Seonghwa sshi's employees." The two giggled.

You took a deep breath, you were supposed to be used to this. Being your parents' child, their heir, there was a lot of scrutiny and gossip in your world. You knew engaging wasn't going to make it any better.

"Do you think you're better than us? You can't be bothered to reply?" The first girl crossed her arms with a frown.

"I don't think I am better than you. But I know that no matter what I say, you wouldn't be satisfied with my reply." You replied calmly. Despite your collected demeanour, the girls obviously grew frustrated with you.

"Is there a problem here?" A voice entered. The girls froze, turning around to see Seonghwa stand there. Even if his face was a void of emotion, the girls were scared.

"Whatever." They mumbled and scurried off, leaving you. You sighed and turned back to your work.

"Why are you hiding here?" Seonghwa asked.

"I'm not hiding, Seonghwa. Just wanted some quiet time by myself and I'm crunching numbers for our upcoming project budgets. But I guess it got interrupted." You explained.

"Sorry you had to deal with that." He apologised. You shook your head, grateful that he turned up to chase those girls away.

"Don't work during the only free time you have." He chuckled.

"What about you? What are you doing here instead of having lunch in the cafeteria?" You asked, knowing that Seonghwa was a major foodie. He wouldn't voluntarily give up meal time.

"Student council meeting. Then I came to get a resource for my essay." He lifted the book.

"Ah, that explains it." You nodded.

You had forgotten to tell Seonghwa not to tell Jongho what had happened in the library. Because Jongho came storming through the house as you were working on the couch. He made you abandon your papers and stand up, turning you around to check for any possible injuries that you sustained.

"What are you doing?" You giggled.

"Seonghwa hyung told me about those girls in the library. I wanted to make sure you weren't hurt." He mumbled with a displeased frown on his face.

"Jongho ah, I'm fine. Those girls were just bored, they didn't do anything." You laughed.

"Still, I don't like this. I don't like them gossiping about you." He shook his head.

"Well, I don't like people gossiping about you and your injury." You replied with raised eyebrows. Jongho shot you a flat look, obviously taking it more seriously than you.

This was your relationship dynamic, one of you would be joking while the other takes the situation more seriously.

"Love, I am serious. You watched the dramas, you know how mean girls are in school." He argued.

"Exactly what you said. They're dramas, not real. Plus, Seonghwa came to my rescue so I honestly don't think they would try anything and risk pissing him off." You reasoned.

"Him? What about me? Your actual partner, your fiance?" Jongho lifted up your hand, which you had put your ring back on. You raised an amused eyebrow at Jongho. He rarely showed his jealousy like this that you actually felt a little bad.

"Jong, I know you're worried about me but I can protect myself. It doesn't matter what those people think. I don't care what they think." You shrugged.

"But if it gets out of hand-"

"IF it does, I'll tell you, okay? I promise." You laced pinkies with him. Jongho let out a sigh of defeat and nodded.

"You come straight to me. No going to others to protect you. I'll protect you myself. You're not a bother to me, okay? You're going to be my wife. I want you to bother me." He insisted.

"I know." You smiled, craning your neck slightly to give him a peck.

"And I did not go to Seonghwa to have him protect me. He appeared there and helped me. There's a difference." You corrected.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." He rolled his eyes.

It proved to be difficult to ignore the rumours about you. While Jongho was good at ignoring the gossip about him and his injury, he found himself getting gradually more ticked off as he heard the whispers and gossip about you. These people didn't even know you and the things they said were scandalous.

"Did you hear? They think Seonghwa hyung and (y/n) are together." Mingi said softly.

"Shut up, man. Jongho's right there." Yunho slapped the back of his best friend's head. Jongho frowned slightly.

Another reason why he didn't like these rumours, there were many surrounding a potential relationship between you and Seonghwa since you two obviously work together.

"Are you okay, Jongho?" San asked.

"I'm fine, hyung. Let's go." Jongho replied through gritted teeth, grabbing his bag.

"Coming." Wooyoung and San went with him. Even if Jongho wasn't playing this season, he still attended trainings, helping the coach to strategise team formations. He was still a part of the team.

"Your stance is too stiff. You're closing in on yourself and limiting your movement." He corrected the junior.

"Yes, sunbae." The junior relaxed a little, adjusting his feet as he stood in the box.

"Let's go." Jongho nodded to the pitcher on the mound, who was San. San gave a thumbs up, getting into his usual pitching stance. He was a powerful pitcher, the team's best pitcher.

Jongho watched the others in the team run back and forth in laps, practicing their baserunning skills. Amongst them was Wooyoung, who was the fastest runner in the team and an essential to their offensive play against opponents.

As the team's ace batter, Jongho ensured that he was training the juniors to properly support the team.

"You've been watching the others bat during trainings, I hope you'll be able to help me decide who will be our star batter during the competition season." The coach said.

"Isn't that your decision to make?" Jongho chuckled, taking a sip of his water.

"Well, you've been watching them more than I have. And you would know what kind of batter we need to win." The coach shrugged.

"You would need a 'me'." Jongho joked.

"Unfortunately, I'll have to settle with the closest 'you' the team has this season. But next season, I'll definitely have you back." The coach patted his shoulder and went back to observing training.

"Psst." Jongho raised his head when he heard someone whisper. He turned around to find you there, under the bleachers.

"Hang on." With everyone distracted with training, no one saw Jongho get up and head behind the bleachers.

"Love, what are you doing here? Someone could see you." Jongho asked, looking around cautiously. You just grinned playfully, holding out a cold drink to him.

"I'm not even training." He chuckled, receiving the drink.

"You're not but that doesn't mean you're not working hard. I see you out there, helping the others with their training and discussing game plans with the coach. You may not be out there running like the others but you're still working just as hard as they are. Don't discredit yourself." You smiled softly.

"You always know what to say." He opened his arms to hug you. You wrapped your arms around his waist.

"Shouldn't you be heading home? Class ended hours ago." Jongho asked after you both broke apart from the hug, placing a hand on your head.

"I was going around looking at the other clubs and activities." You explained.

"You're going around alone? Wasn't there someone to bring you around to show you?" Jongho blinked.

"Oh, right. Yunho was actually bringing me around but he had to attend to a work call so I snuck away. I should probably go find him before he reports missing persons." You giggled.

"Ah, love... Don't give my hyung a hard time. Yunho hyung's the only one I can sort of tolerate." Jongho chided.

"I'm not giving him a hard time. I just came to give you a drink." You scoffed.

"Which I'm grateful for. I'll see you at home." Jongho said, leaning down to give you a kiss on the cheek. You nodded and waved before running back to wherever you came from.

"Ooh~ Getting sneaky under the bleachers?" Wooyoung whistled when he saw Jongho emerge.

"Stop it, hyung." Jongho groaned.

"Hope that no one saw you and her." San said, drinking his water and retrieving his towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead, assuming Jongho met you under the bleachers. Jongho shook his head, a very small part of him was maybe hoping someone would see you two.

Then maybe the rumours about you and Seonghwa will finally die and he can protect your name out in the open without needing to be all secretive about it.

"Let's get back to practicing, hyung." Was all Jongho said before going back out to the field.

"Ah, (y/n). You scared me! Where did you run off to?" Yunho let out a sigh of relief when he saw you coming over.

"I saw the baseball team..." That was all Yunho needed to hear to have an idea of where you disappeared to. He laughed and patted your head like an older brother.

"That's fine. Next time, just tell me. If I let something happen to you, I'm afraid Jongho might actually kill me." Yunho said softly.

"Jongho would never hurt anyone." You raised an eyebrow.

"You think that because he would never hurt you or show his violent side to you." Yunho chuckled and continued the rest of the tour with you beside him.

You were glad that Yunho could show you around the clubs today because his practices were usually on other days.

"What clubs are you in again?" You asked.

"Uh, I'm in dance and e-sports. I can get quite busy with my family's company work so I had to pull out of the other sports clubs that I was in. Plus since I am quite an active member in dance so that already takes up a big portion of my time." He explained. You nodded your head with a contemplative hum.

"We've seen about 80% of the clubs already. Have any of them caught your eye yet?" Yunho asked. You looked at the little post-it note in your hand where you've been scribbling.

"The judo club looks interesting but it's been a while since I've practiced. Or the english literature club," You thought out loud.

"Those are very opposite ends of the spectrum. But you can join both if you'd like." Yunho smiled.

"Yeah... But I think as the years go on, I may be called away to work a lot more so I wouldn't want to promise any commitment when the future is uncertain." You sighed.

"I understand. Well, there's no rush to decide. Some club offer a trial period too so think about it." Yunho patted your head.

"Absolutely not." Jongho was quick to shoot the idea down when you brought it up, especially when you mentioned 'judo'.

"Why?" You asked, defiance in your voice.

"Because it's not safe. Why would you put yourself in harm's way? Especially if someone has an agenda against you... No. No judo. Literature club is fine." Jongho said.

"So, it's because I'm a girl." You raised an eyebrow at your fiance. Jongho stopped pacing and looked at you.

"What? Don't you play the feminism card right now." He squinted his eyes at you. You almost wanted to burst out laughing at how cute Jongho was being now. He obviously had the best intentions but you couldn't help it, you wanted to push his buttons a little.

"Wait, did you even see the figure skating club? Why don't you go back to figure skating?" Jongho asked.

"Oh yeah. I didn't think about that. Yunho told me that they practice off site so we didn't get to go visit." You tapped your chin. You were an avid ice skater, ever since you were a child.

"Yes, so please, keep me sane and not join martial arts." Jongho begged.

"You do know that I am just as prone to getting injured in figure skating, right?" You reminded.

"Yes but you will most likely be the cause of your own injury in figure skating. Whereas in martial arts, it's the opponent. You never know what they'll do." Jongho reasoned.

"Fine." You gave in. Jongho smiled softly and patted your head.

"You don't think anyone saw us at the bleachers, right? It just dawned on me that we hugged and all that in a public space." You asked.

"No, I think we're fine, love. But honestly, if they find out, is it really all that bad?" Jongho asked, pulling you into his arms to let you rest your head against his chest.

"Well, no. I don't think it's bad. Unless you think so?" You turned to face him.

"Not at all, my love. I'm kinda tired of sneaking around like we don't know each other. If people find out, let them. I don't care about what other people say about me. And all the more they won't think you're dating Seonghwa hyung." He mumbled the last part. You giggled, knowing that Jongho was a little jealous.

"Alright. And you know I don't care about those rumours, right? I love you, you're the person I'm going to marry, not Seonghwa." You kissed his jaw.

"I know." He squeezed you, kissing the crown of your head.

You threw yourself into figure skating training. The team was really nice and welcoming, no mean people. You were treated like any other team member.

And with you busy at the rink while Jongho was helping the baseball and football team with their training, you were both kept busy.

"Come to our game!" Wooyoung said to you as you brought out the food that you cooked.

"Sure. It's the first game of the season, right? When is it?" You smiled, giving the dishes to San to place on the table. Wooyoung handed you a VIP lanyard that was for team members.

"I can just sit at the regular seat." You chuckled.

"No, you're sitting with me." Jongho told you, leaving no room for arguement or protests.

"Fine." You rolled your eyes, making San and Wooyoung snicker. The two always came home with Jongho after baseball training for dinner and to game together. You didn't mind since you usually did school work or watched them game.

"I suspect some press might be there. They're always there, especially because we're playing." San explained to you, it was more like a caution.

"I didn't know the press was really that interested in you but thanks for the heads up." You said.

"You know there's this specific group that's obsessed with the inheritors and their lives." Wooyoung sighed.

"Yeah, they'll wanna be there too since I'm not playing this season. Try to get some pictures of me and ask me about my injury." Jongho added with a shrug.

"That's horrible." You shook your head.

"Don't the press follow you too?" San asked.

"Well, I travel a lot with my parents so the press usually covers my parents more than what I do. You know, setting up overseas branches and stuff is much more interesting." You explained.

"Enough about all this. So, how has figure skating been? I heard you're quite the skater." Wooyoung asked, resting his head on his hand.

"No, not at all. I haven't skated in a long while. I'm still very rusty but I love being back on the ice." You laughed.

"You're still one of the better ones there. I don't know if any of the others in the team had a private skating coach when they were growing up. And if the coach was a previous olympian." Jongho scoffed, hiding his compliment in his words. You pursed your lips and slapped his arm.

"Don't say it like that." You whined. Jongho had a playful smirk on his face as he ate. After dinner, San and Wooyoung helped with cleaning up before going to game.

"Aren't you staying?" Jongho held your hand.

"I've got some work to do. I've been letting some things fall behind because of skating." You smiled sadly.

"Want me to help? They can game without me." He offered. You shook your head with a soft smile, squeezing his hand and leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"Have fun." You wished the 3 and went into your little study.

But as they gamed, Jongho kept looking at the closed door of your study. It was a Friday night, you shouldn't have to work.

"Psst." San nudged Wooyoung, nodding over to Jongho, who was distracted and looking at where you disappeared to. They decided maybe they should have an early night.

"Ah! I'm tired. Maybe we should head off for the night." Wooyoung yawned, stretching his arms up.

"But we've only played 2 rounds." Jongho pointed out.

"I know but we're tired from training today. We can play next week." San smiled, patting the youngest on the shoulder. Jongho nodded, he wasn't going to force them to stay. With waves and goodbyes, he walked them to the door.

"(y/n)?" You looked up from your computer to see Jongho's head poking into your office.

"Oh, Jongho. Come in. Where's Wooyoung and San?" You asked noticing that when he came in, he was holding a tray with tea and a slice of cake.

"They went back early. I think they were tired from training." Jongho informed, putting the tray down.

"Here, love. Careful, it's hot." He handed you the tea cup.

"Thank you. You don't have to do this, you can head to bed first. I'll come up in a bit." You smiled, sipping the tea and taking a bite of the cake. It was cheesecake, your favourite.

"When it comes to you, I never do things because I need to. It's because I want to." He stroked your head.

"Also, shall we go on a date tomorrow? It's been a while." He suggested. Jongho adored the way your eyes sparkled at his words.

"Yes!" You agreed without any hesitation.

Today was the big day. The baseball stadium was packed with spectators and different teams (even if they were not playing today) here to watch the first matches of the season. Being the top team every season, there were many that came just to watch Jongho's team against their opponents.

There were 2 games taking place today, with Jongho's team playing the second match. You were in awe at all the people that came despite this not being a national game.

"I just got out of a meeting. I'll meet you at the seats." You said to Jongho over the phone before hanging up.

"What is she doing here?"

"Maybe she was invited since Wooyoung and San are playing."

You heard whispers as you passed. While it wasn't compulsory to go, there were students that bought tickets to go. Those that couldn't buy them had to ballot for them.

Hongjoong explained to you that being seen at these sporting events was a big thing, it was more a social meeting than liking the sport.

"(y/n), here!" Wooyoung stood up, waving to you. You raised your hand and walked over to him.

"Hi, everyone." You greeted the others, who returned with greetings and smiles. Seonghwa stood up and guided you over to where your designated seat was.

"He's not with you?" San asked, noticing you were alone.

"I came from a meeting. He's coming from home." You replied as you sat down, knowing who they were referring to, obviously. Even other spectators had their sights trained on you, sitting in the VIP that usually only had the usual 8.

"You know, you're the first girl to sit with us in our box." Yeosang informed. Your eyes widened in surprise, no wonder everyone was looking at you.

"Don't worry about that. Just sit and enjoy the game." Seonghwa patted your head.

"Here." Mingi tossed you a pack of crisps as you sat down.

Jongho handed his keys to the valet and walked into the stadium, flashing his VIP badge to the usher. He knew you were here and with his hyungs so he wasn't in a rush to get seated.

"Where's the concession stand?" Jongho asked one of the ushers, wanting to buy you a drink and some snacks.

"Do you think they're more out with the relationship? Like instead of announcing it." He heard some girls talking while he was paying.

"Maybe. Did you see how Seonghwa immediately greeted her and he placed his hand on her head? They're definitely together." Now, Jongho knew what they were talking about.

"Or maybe Yunho, they seemed close when he was showing her around the clubs."

"She's the first girl in their VIP box so must be important."

Jongho frowned slightly. Maybe the rumours were getting out of hand and with the press here today, he didn't want people recognising you, seeing your interactions with the others and spreading news that you were an item with someone that wasn't him, especially in the socialite/ inheritors world.

He had 100% trust in you, he was just irked that there were all these rumours from people that didn't even know you, they didn't bother to get to know you.

"Thanks." Jongho finished paying and went to the stands. He immediately saw you there, chatting with Mingi and San.

"Where is Jongho?" You checked your watch.

"I'm right here, love." You looked up at see Jongho there. The next thing he did made you freeze and the crowd around you go into a buzz with gasps and whispers.

Jongho leaned down, cupping your cheeks with his hands and pressed his lips against yours.

"Jongho!" You squeaked. The other boys stared at their youngest in shock with their jaws dropped and eyes widened.

"There. Now, everyone will know you're actually mine. And mine only." Jongho smirked, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb. You were speechless, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Damn! You go, maknae!" Mingi was the first to break out of the shock, cheering Jongho on.

"Not the way I'd expect you to announce your relationship but..." Hongjoong laughed, patting Jongho on the back.

"Thanks, hyungs." Jongho laughed and sat down beside you. You heard all the shutters of cameras go off around you plus the murmurs, making you feel a little shy. Jongho wrapped his arm around you, letting you hide your face against his chest.

"Are you alright, love?" He whispered.

"No. I can feel everyone's eyes on us." You groaned. Luckily, the announcers called for the players to begin the first match of the day, taking some of the attention off you and Jongho.

"By the way, our parents gave me the permission to announce our engagement any time now so how's tomorrow?" He chuckled.

"You never told me this! You surprised me!" You hissed, slapping his chest.

"Well, okay, I honestly didn't plan on it turning out like that. But I'm glad that it's finally out in the open." He said, tightening his hold around your shoulders.

"Me too." You smiled softly and leaned your head against his shoulder to watch the first game.

'YOU HAVE BEEN DATING JONGHO THIS WHOLE TIME? Omg I can't believe you managed to keep this secret! - Kayo'

You giggled when you saw all the frantic messages from Kayo. Sitting up, you took the necklace of your neck. Jongho watched your actions with curiosity.

"There's no need for this, I guess." You took your engagement ring off your finger and placed it on your fourth finger, where it belonged.

"There we go." You kissed his cheek, sitting back against him, resting your hand on his thigh. With Jongho's secure arm around you and the others sitting in the box with you, you felt protected, the uncomfortable feeling of being watched by the other spectators slowly just dissolved away.

Throughout the game, Jongho patiently explained to you what was happening and why since you still couldn't grasp the rules and aspects of the game.

"We won." Jongho said as you stood alongside him, clapping and cheering for the team.

"The photographers are near the exit. I think we all know who they're waiting on." San said as he and Wooyoung came back to the box.

"Ah, ignore them. The focus should be on the win. Congratulations on your first win of the season." You wished the two of them. They smiled and each reached around you for the brief hug.

"We'll try to walk around you to protect you." Yeosang smiled.

"Thanks." You giggled.

Knowing that there were photographers, you purposely walked with the group and Jongho, not holding his hand, still unsure of whether he wanted any PDA captured.

"Jongho sshi, (y/n) sshi, with your relationship, does that mean we'll see a merger in your families' companies?"

"Are you dating, engaged or married?"

The photographers tried to crowd you and Jongho. You felt a little overwhelmed since there weren't any barriers, the only protection between you and the photographers were the other boys, who were also starting to get shoved.

"Hey, stop it. Someone's going to get hurt." Jongho yelled, stopping them. He grabbed your hand to tugged you to him, a displeased frown on his face.

"Just go. We'll be okay." Yunho said to Jongho, who quickly pulled you to his car. He couldn't run with his knee.

"Oww." Jongho winced, grabbing his knee from the sudden sprint walking.

"I'll drive." You took the keys, letting Jongho sit in the passenger seat. Once the engine started, you drove out of there. Luckily the photographers were not THAT interested that they chased you.

"Are you alright? I have pain meds in my bag, just in case." You asked Jongho, glancing over worriedly.

"I'm fine, jagi. I don't need the meds, just give me a while.." He threw his head back, closing his eyes to work through the pain.

After getting home, you put Jongho on the couch and got him an ice pack, not wanting his knee to flare up even more. You prohibited him from moving at all.

"What do you need?" You asked, putting a cup of coffee down for him so he wouldn't get up to get a cup.

"You." He looked up at you with a serious face.

"People think you're so fierce but you're actually a big baby." You scoffed, sitting down beside him. You scooted close to him until your leg was right against his. Jongho sighed, as if frustrated with you and leaned down to lift your legs, you let out a yelp as he brought your legs over his lap.

"I can still have the ice pack over my knee." He said before you could move, adjusting your legs so they were draped over his thighs, totally not affecting his knee at all.

"The public finally knows." You said, letting Jongho pull you in to rest your head against his chest.

"Mhmm. Sorry if you weren't ready." He whispered against your head.

"Nothing to be sorry for. I'm happy, very happy. No more crazy rumours. And tomorrow, the press release about the engagement will be out." You giggled.

"I'm happy you're happy. That's all that matters to me. I don't care about the rumours..." He said.

"Sure..." You knew he was jealous, that's why he kissed you like that in public.

"It's true. I just didn't like that people were soiling your name and reputation with all those rumours about you with Seonghwa hyung then Yunho hyung, that's why I did what I did." He defended.

"Thank you for defending my honour." You lifted your head and pressed your lips against his.

"I can't to finally marry you and call you my wife." Jongho confessed. You smiled back, stroking his cheek, you shared the same giddy feeling of excitement. Growing up with Jongho, you always saw a future with him.

"I can't wait." You hugged him, feeling so overwhelmed with the way your heart was racing. Even after all these years, he still makes you feel this way.

"Right after we graduate, I'm taking you to city hall. We'll get married right away." He declared.

"Stop, you know our moms are gonna kill you. They've been waiting to take me dress shopping." You rolled your eyes.

"No, I need to show the world that you're officially mine." He ran his thumb over your ring. It was something that he loved to do, it cemented that you were really engaged to be his.

"You're so silly." You pinched his cheek.

"We can sign the papers then do whatever ceremony they want after." Jongho shrugged.

"Fine. But you're telling them, not me. And you have to tell the other 7 guys too because they might actually be more excited for the wedding than you are." You crossed your arms with a scoff.

"I highly doubt that." Jongho sighed.

"Wooyoung thinks he's gonna DJ and Hongjoong's already writing a script to speak at the reception." You informed.

"They're acting like its their wedding, not mine. But okay, love, I'll be the bearer to bad news to whoever. Whatever gets you married to me as soon as possible." He smiled, wrapping an arm around you to hold you close, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, making you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.

Masterlist

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop oneshot #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez oneshot #ateez x you #ateez jongho #jongho ateez #choi jongho #choi jongho scenarios #choi jongho oneshot #jongho #jongho scenarios #jongho oneshot #jongho x reader #jongho x you #jongho x y/n #jongho fluff

131 notes · View notes

moluvies · 2 days ago

Text

touch starved ꔛ hange zoe x reader (pt 2)

a/n: part two to yearning !

words: 5.8k

cw: fwb kinda, kinda jealous! hange, they/them pronouns for hange, hange has fem anatomy, she/her pronouns and fem anatomy for reader, fingering, cunnilingus, MDNI !!

ꔛ

Your heart raced as you made your way to Commander Erwin's office, the clicking of your boots on the hardwood floor and your heart pounding in your chest deafening as you made the short journey there. After returning from the scouting expedition, things got busy. The thing with Hange was... complicated. Not really, though, if you thought about it more thoroughly. Everyone was busy, everyone was drained, and everyone was going through the motions until the next expedition.

Hange and you rarely saw each other, mostly because they were still recovering from the injury on their leg and spent most of the days in their office working or in the tiny research facility—both places not being areas you frequented. Especially when you were temporarily assigned to a totally different post now that you'd gotten back.

It had been a week, but the encounter you and Hange shared never stopped running through your mind once.

That's when one of your fellow scouts came and told you Commander Erwin wanted to see you in his office, and you almost passed out from anxiety. A bunch of unwarranted and unrealistic scenarios presented themselves in your brain, like what if the Commander could read minds? Did he see you were distracted?

You wanted to throw up when you knocked on the door, and shook when his distinct voice told you to come in.

You pushed open the heavy wooden door, your palm damp with sweat against the handle. Commander Erwin sat at his desk, posture impeccable, his attention focused on a report. Without looking up, he gestured toward the chair across from him.

"Take a seat."

You complied, back straight and hands folded in your lap, trying to maintain composure despite your racing pulse. The Commander finished reading whatever document had captured his attention, signed the bottom with a practiced flourish, and finally lifted his gaze to meet yours.

"I appreciate your promptness," he said, his voice measured and even. His expression revealed nothing—the same calm, calculating look he wore during strategy meetings.

"Sir," you responded with a crisp nod, not trusting yourself to say more.

Commander Erwin folded his fingers and regarded you steadily. "I've received some concerns about efficiency within our ranks since returning from the expedition."

Your mouth went dry. This was it.

"Section Commander Hange's productivity has been compromised as of late," he continued, his tone factual rather than accusatory. "Captain Levi has brought this to my attention multiple times in the past week."

You remained silent, unsure if you were expected to respond. Despite that, a million thoughts ran in your head. Hange was distracted and it was because of you? And Captain Levi of all people was the the one to complain?

"I don't usually involve myself in matters outside direct military operations," Erwin said, "but when the functionality of our command structure is affected, it becomes my concern."

"I understand, Commander," you managed to say, your voice steadier than you expected.

Erwin's piercing blue eyes studied you carefully. "The Survey Corps operates under unique circumstances. Every soldier must prioritize the mission above all else, without exception."

You nodded stiffly, bracing for the reprimand.

"That said," he continued, "I've always maintained that a soldier's personal conduct is their own affair, provided it doesn't interfere with their duties or the chain of command."

A slight frown crossed his features—not of disapproval, but of consideration. "I trust my officers to exercise sound judgment in all matters. Section Commander Hange is a valuable asset to humanity's cause. As are you, in your position."

His emphasis on rank wasn't lost on you. A subtle reminder of the hierarchy that existed between you and Hange.

"Yes, sir," you replied.

Erwin reached into a drawer and extracted a stack of papers bound with twine. "These are the topographical surveys from our last expedition. Section Commander Hange has requested them three times today."

He placed the papers on the desk between you. "They're currently in the research facility, likely disrupting everyone else's work schedule with their impatience."

Was that the faintest hint of knowing in his voice? You couldn't be sure. His expression remained professionally neutral.

"I'd like you to deliver these immediately," he said, pushing the papers toward you. "And remind Section Commander Hange that their analysis report is due on my desk by tomorrow evening."

You stood, taking the papers with a salute. "Yes, Commander."

As you turned to leave, Erwin spoke again, his tone unchanged. "One moment."

You paused, facing him once more.

"The Survey Corps functions best when every member operates at optimal capacity," he said. "Whatever arrangements ensure that outcome are acceptable, provided they do not compromise our organizational structure or mission objectives."

His words were clinical, detached, yet you sensed the meaning behind them. This was Erwin's way—speaking in strategic terms while conveying something more.

"Understood, sir."

"Good," he said with a curt nod. "That will be all."

You saluted again and exited his office, the door clicking shut behind you. In the empty hallway, you exhaled slowly, clutching the papers to your chest.

Had the commander just given his tacit approval? Or merely established boundaries? With Erwin Smith, it was often difficult to tell. His words could be interpreted multiple ways—perhaps intentionally so. It was up to the Commander to be able to deny involvement if needed. And honestly, sometimes you felt too dumb to speak with him because of his big words and serious way of speaking.

What was clear, however, was that you hadn't been reassigned or separated from Hange's command. And now you had a legitimate reason to seek them out after a week apart.

The research facility wasn't far from headquarters—a converted storehouse with reinforced walls where Hange conducted their more questionable experiments. As you approached, the familiar sound of their enthusiastic voice carried through the air, punctuated by what sounded like something heavy being dragged across the floor.

You took a deep breath, straightened your uniform jacket, and knocked on the door, the stack of papers clutched tightly in your hands.

"Come in!" Hange's voice called out, bright and energetic.

You pushed open the door to find the research facility in its usual state of organized chaos. Books and papers were scattered across multiple tables, specimen jars lined the shelves, and various contraptions that you couldn't begin to identify occupied every available surface. The familiar scent of chemicals and parchment filled your nostrils.

"Ah, finally!" Hange exclaimed, looking up from where they were hunched over a microscope. Their hair was more disheveled than usual, falling loose from their ponytail, and their glasses sat slightly askew on their nose. But what caught your attention immediately was how they moved—no longer favoring their injured leg as heavily as they had been.

Moblit stood nearby, arms crossed and looking exasperated. "Section Commander, you've been asking about those surveys every hour. Perhaps if you'd waited patiently—"

"Patience is for people who aren't on the verge of a breakthrough!" Hange interrupted, practically bouncing on their feet as they spotted the papers in your hands. The sight made your heart skip—they seemed so much more like their usual animated self.

"The topographical surveys," you said, extending the bound papers toward them.

Hange's eyes lit up as they reached for the papers, their fingers briefly brushing against yours in the exchange. The contact was fleeting, but it sent a familiar warmth up your arm that you tried to suppress under Moblit's watchful gaze.

"Perfect timing!" Hange said, immediately untying the twine and spreading the papers across the nearest cleared surface. "Moblit, look at this—if we cross-reference these elevation markers with the titan movement patterns we documented..."

You found yourself watching them work, noting how their leg seemed to support their weight without the visible discomfort from the previous week. The way they moved with renewed energy, the familiar gesture of pushing their glasses up their nose when concentrating, the animated way they gestured while explaining their theories to Moblit—it all stirred something deep in your chest.

The memory of that night in the tent seemed to hang in the air between you, unspoken but present. Was Hange thinking about it, too? The way you touched each other, the way you spoke like it was the beginning of something new... were they as affected as you?

"This could change everything about how we approach formation strategies," Hange continued, tracing routes on the survey maps with their finger. "If titans are actually avoiding certain geological features..."

Moblit sighed, shooting you a look that seemed to say 'here we go again.' "Section Commander, you've been working for seven hours straight. Perhaps you should take a break?"

"Break?" Hange looked up, blinking owlishly. "But we're so close to—" Their gaze met yours across the table, and for a moment, the excited chatter died in their throat. Something shifted in their expression, becoming softer, more aware.

The silence stretched for a beat too long, and you became acutely conscious of Moblit's presence, of the way he was looking between you and Hange with growing suspicion.

"I should go," you said quickly, taking a step toward the door. "Let you get back to your work."

"Wait," Hange said, straightening up. They glanced at Moblit, then back at you. "Actually, Moblit, didn't you mention needing to check on the supply requisitions?"

Moblit's brow furrowed. "I can do that later, Section Commander. You shouldn't be alone when you're working with these chemical compounds—"

"I'll be fine," Hange insisted, waving a hand dismissively. "Besides, I might need someone to help me carry these reference books back to my office later." They gestured vaguely toward you, the request casual but loaded with implication.

You felt your pulse quicken. After a week of careful avoidance, of stolen glances across the mess hall and brief, professional exchanges in passing, the prospect of being alone with Hange again made your mouth go dry.

Moblit looked between you both again, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed and removed his apron. "Very well. But please don't stay too late, Section Commander. And don't attempt to move any heavy equipment while I'm gone."

"Of course not," Hange said, though their tone suggested they were barely listening.

You turned your head to watch Moblit as he left, opening the door and shutting it behind him.

That was all it took before Hange was on you.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Hange breathed, their voice rough with need as they crowded into your space, their hands immediately finding your waist, tugging you hard against them. Their body was warm, solid—so much more alive than you remembered, their heartbeat thundering against your chest as they pressed flush against you.

You gasped, startled by the suddenness of it, your hands instinctively flying up to brace against their shoulders. “Hange—wait, what if Moblit comes back? Or—or someone else—?”

Hange didn’t let you finish. Their mouth crashed into yours, hot and insistent, swallowing your protests with a desperate, messy kiss that left your head spinning. Their lips were soft but demanding, their tongue sliding against yours with a possessive urgency that made your knees tremble. You could feel how much they’d missed you—how starved they were for this—and it sent a sharp, dizzying thrill straight to your core.

“Moblit won’t be back for at least twenty minutes,” Hange murmured between feverish kisses, their fingers tightening possessively on your hips. “And I need you. Fuck, I’ve been thinking about you—about how you tasted, how you sounded when I had you—”

A whimper tore from your throat at their words, your face burning as your body reacted instantly, heat pooling low in your stomach. You wanted this—God, you’d been aching for it all week—but the fear of getting caught, of someone walking in and seeing you like this, made your pulse spike with nervous excitement.

Hange didn’t seem to care. They were already dragging you backward, their lips never leaving yours, until your back hit the nearest wall with a quiet thud. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, but Hange didn’t give you time to recover—their hands sliding underneath your shirt to paw at your breasts.

“Hange—!” you gasped, your voice trembling as their palms skimmed over your skin, their touch searing.

“Shhh, I’ve got you,” they murmured, their voice low and honey-sweet despite the rough way they were handling you.

Then you heard the unmistakeable sound you were so nervous you'd hear.

Footsteps. Outside the door.

You froze, panic flooding your veins.

“Hange—someone’s coming—”

Hange groaned in frustration, their grip on you tightening for a second before they reluctantly pulled away. Their lips were kiss-swollen, their hair even messier than before, their glasses slightly askew. They looked ravished.

The door swung open without warning, the hinges creaking in the sudden silence.

"Four-eyes, Moblit says you've been—" Captain Levi stopped mid-sentence, his steel-gray eyes taking in the scene with the sharp assessment of someone who'd seen too much to be surprised by anything.

"Captain Levi!" Hange's voice pitched slightly higher than usual. "What brings you to—"

"You," Levi's gaze shifted to you, flat and unimpressed, "are supposed to be on perimeter duty. Third shift reported you missing twenty minutes ago."

Your stomach dropped. "Sir, I was delivering—"

"The surveys. I know." His attention moved back to Hange, who was now frantically shuffling papers on the table as if that would somehow restore order to the chaos. "And you've apparently been working for eight hours straight without food or water. Again."

Hange waved dismissively. "I'm fine, Levi. Just had a breakthrough with the formation data and—"

"You look like shit." Levi's voice was deadpan. He stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him with deliberate slowness. "When's the last time you bathed? Or slept in an actual bed instead of face-down on your research notes?"

"I slept... yesterday. Or was it the day before?" Hange's hand went to their hair self-consciously.

Levi's expression remained unchanged, but something in his posture suggested he was fighting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. His gaze flicked between you both once more, lingering on your still-flushed face and Hange's wrinkled shirt.

"Right." He crossed his arms. "You're going to eat something that isn't stale bread and whatever expired shit you keep in here. And you're going to sleep. Tonight. In your actual quarters."

"But the analysis report—"

"Will be shit if you write it while half-dead from exhaustion." Levi's tone brooked no argument. He looked at you again. "And you're going to report to your assigned post. Now."

"Yes, sir," you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart raced as you hurried past him, catching Hange's usual expression in your peripheral vision. Behind you, you could already hear Levi beginning his lecture about proper nutrition and hygiene habits, his voice carrying its usual note of long-suffering irritation.

The hallway felt impossibly long as you made your way back to your duties, your heart still hammering against your ribs.

ꔛ

After the tense encounter with Captain Levi in the research facility, you had spent the rest of the evening on edge, your stomach twisting with a mix of embarrassment and lingering arousal. The memory of Hange’s hands on you, the way their lips had claimed yours with such desperate hunger—it had left you restless, unable to focus on anything else. The fear of being caught had only amplified the thrill of it, and now, hours later, you still felt the ghost of their touch on your skin.

You had retreated to your quarters as soon as your shift ended, desperate for the comfort of solitude. The warm water of the shower had done little to ease the tension coiled in your muscles, but it had at least washed away the day’s exhaustion, leaving your skin flushed and tingling. Now, dressed in soft cotton pajamas—a loose shirt and shorts that barely brushed your thighs—you sat on the edge of your bed, running a towel through your damp hair.

The barracks were quiet at this hour, most of the scouts already asleep or lost in their own private routines. The flickering candle on your nightstand cast long shadows across the room, the only sound the occasional creak of the old wooden building settling into the night.

And then—knock knock knock.

A rapid, almost giddy series of taps against your door.

You froze, the towel still tangled in your fingers.

Then it came again—knock knock knock—more insistent this time, accompanied by an impatient little shuffle of feet outside.

Hange Zoe.

Their face was pressed way too close to the door, their single visible eye magnified comically through the tiny lens, their grin wide enough that you could see the flash of their teeth even in the dim hallway torchlight. Their hair was even messier than usual, strands sticking out at odd angles like they’d been running their hands through it repeatedly. Their glasses were slightly askew, and—were they blushing?

Hange practically vibrated on the spot, their hands fidgeting at their sides, their weight shifting from foot to foot like they were barely containing their energy. They were still in their uniform, though their jacket was half-unbuttoned, the cuffs rolled up haphazardly, and their boots untied?

“Hi,” they breathed, their voice a little too loud for the quiet of the hallway, their grin widening impossibly further.

You bit your lip, glancing up and down the corridor to make sure no one else was around before stepping back to let them in. “Hange, what are you—?”

They didn’t let you finish.

The moment you shut the door behind them, Hange practically lunged at you, their hands immediately finding your waist as they backed you up against the wall with a soft thud. Their lips crashed into yours, messy and desperate, their breath hot against your skin as they kissed you like they’d been starving for it.

“Missed you—fuck—missed you so much,” Hange gasped between feverish kisses, their fingers digging into your hips like they were afraid you’d disappear. Their glasses bumped awkwardly against your nose, but they didn’t care, their mouth moving against yours with an almost frantic urgency.

You whimpered, your hands flying up to tangle in their wild brown hair, tugging slightly just to hear the way they groaned into your mouth. Their tongue swiped against your bottom lip, demanding entry, and you let them in with a shudder, melting against them as they deepened the kiss, their hands roaming over your body like they were trying to memorize every curve.

“You taste so good,” Hange mumbled against your lips, their voice rough with want. “Been thinking about this all damn week—about how you sound when you come, how your body shakes—”

A whimper tore from your throat, your face burning at their words, but Hange just grinned, nipping at your lower lip before diving back in, their kisses growing sloppier, hungrier. Their hands slipped under your shirt, warm palms skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin just beneath your breasts.

“Hange—” you gasped, arching into their touch, your heart hammering so hard you were sure they could feel it.

“Mmm, say it again,” they murmured, their lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck, teeth scraping lightly over your pulse point. “Love the way you say my name—like I’m all you think about.”

You did think about them. All the time. And the way they were touching you now, kissing you like they couldn’t get enough, only made it worse—your head spun, your body aching with need.

Hange pulled back just enough to look at you, their eyes dark behind their glasses, their lips kiss-swollen and glistening. They were grinning, that same wild, excited grin they got when they were on the verge of a scientific breakthrough—except now, you were the discovery they couldn’t get enough of.

“You’re adorable when you’re all shy,” they teased, their thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Bet you’d be even cuter if I—”

You didn’t let them finish. You yanked them back into another kiss, your fingers tightening in their hair, and Hange laughed against your mouth, delighted, before surrendering completely, their body pressing yours harder into the wall as their hands roamed lower, hungrier.

And you? You were theirs. Completely.

The frantic energy between you shifted as Hange backed you toward the bed, their hands never leaving your body. When your knees hit the edge, you tumbled backward with a soft gasp, and Hange followed eagerly, crawling over you with that same wild grin on their face.

"Your hair's all damp," they murmured, fingers threading through the still-wet strands. Their weight settled half on top of you, one leg slotted between yours, their glasses sliding down their nose as they gazed down at you with hungry eyes. "Were you in the shower thinking about me?"

You turned away, unable to deny it, which only made Hange's grin widen, a look of pure delight crossing their features. Before you could stammer out a response, their mouth was on yours again, softer this time but no less demanding. Their tongue traced the seam of your lips before slipping inside, exploring your mouth with enthusiastic curiosity.

Their hand wandered beneath your loose sleep shirt, fingers tracing patterns on your bare skin that made you shiver. You sighed into their mouth, one hand coming up to tangle in their wild hair while the other gripped their shoulder, anchoring yourself against the wave of sensation.

"Oh! I forgot to tell you—" you started, then whimpered when Hange's thumb brushed the underside of your breast, "Commander Erwin said—said your report is due tomorrow evening."

Hange froze for a heartbeat, pulling back just enough to look at you with narrowed eyes. "You're thinking about Erwin right now? While I'm touching you?" Their voice held a playful edge, but something possessive flashed in their gaze.

"No! I just remembered—"

"Hmm," they hummed skeptically, a teasing smile tugging at their lips. They dipped down to kiss you again, more deliberately this time, their tongue sliding against yours in a way that made your toes curl. When they pulled back, you were panting. "Should I be worried about you and our handsome commander?"

You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite your racing heart. "Don't be ridiculous—"

Hange cut you off with another kiss, deeper this time, their hand sliding up to fully cup your breast through your shirt. You arched into their touch with a gasp, coherent thought rapidly deserting you.

"Because if Erwin thinks he can steal my favorite research assistant," they continued, voice dropping to a husky murmur as they pinched your nipple lightly, making you squirm beneath them, "I'll have to remind him that I have exclusive access to this particular specimen."

Their hands were everywhere at once—sliding under your sleep shirt, tugging at the waistband of your shorts, tangling in your damp hair. You arched into their touch, desperate for more, whimpering when they suddenly pulled back.

"Take these off," Hange commanded, tugging at your clothes with impatient hands. "I want to see all of you."

You complied eagerly, lifting your hips so they could slide your shorts down your legs, then raising your arms as they pulled your shirt over your head. The cool air of the room made your nipples harden, and Hange's eyes darkened behind their glasses as they took in the sight of you, completely bare beneath them.

"Beautiful," they murmured, their gaze roaming hungrily over your exposed body.

Their fingers trailed up your inner thigh, so close to where you needed them but not quite there. You squirmed, trying to guide their hand where you wanted it, but Hange just chuckled, clearly enjoying your desperation.

"Patience," they teased, their thumb brushing tantalizingly close to your center. "I'm conducting very important research here."

"Hange, please—" you gasped, your hips lifting involuntarily.

"Please what?" Their eyes glinted mischievously. "Tell me what you want. Be specific—you know how I love detailed observations."

Your face burned with embarrassment, but the ache between your legs overrode your shyness. "Touch me," you whispered. "Inside me."

Hange's grin widened, triumphant. "Good girl," they praised, the words sending a fresh wave of heat through you. "Now turn over for me. On your stomach."

You hesitated for just a moment before rolling onto your front, face half-buried in the pillow. Hange's hands immediately went to your hips, lifting them slightly.

"Arch your back," they instructed, their voice husky with desire. "Yes, just like that. Perfect."

You felt terribly exposed in this position, your ass raised, face down in the bedding, but the way Hange's breath hitched told you they were enjoying the view immensely. Their hands caressed the curve of your ass reverently, squeezing the soft flesh with appreciative murmurs.

"I've been thinking about this all week," they confessed, their voice rough with need. "About having you just like this—spread open for me, so I can see every perfect inch of you."

Their fingers trailed your ass, dipping lower to slide through your already-slick folds. You gasped at the contact, burying your face deeper into the pillow to muffle the sound.

"Oh," Hange breathed, sounding delighted. "You're so wet already. Is that all for me?"

You nodded frantically into the pillow, unable to form words as their fingers explored your sensitive flesh, gathering your arousal and spreading it with teasing strokes.

"I can't hear you," Hange said, their tone light but demanding. "Tell me who makes you this wet."

"You," you managed, voice muffled by the pillow. "Only you, Hange."

"That's right," they hummed, satisfied. "Not Erwin, not anyone else. Just me."

Without warning, they slipped a finger inside you, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion. Your walls clenched around them, hungry for more, and Hange groaned behind you.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," they breathed, slowly working their finger in and out of you. "So tight, so eager for me."

They added a second finger, stretching you deliciously, their other hand stroking soothingly down your spine as they began to establish a rhythm. The angle was different like this—deeper, more intense—and you couldn't help the broken moans that escaped you with each thrust of their fingers.

"I need to see better," Hange murmured, more to themselves than to you. You felt the bed shift as they repositioned, kneeling between your spread legs to get a closer view. "God, look at the way you take my fingers—the way your pretty little cunt just swallows them up."

Their clinical observation, delivered in that passionate, wonder-filled tone they usually reserved for titan research, should have embarrassed you. Instead, it sent a fresh flood of arousal coating their fingers, your body responding to being the focus of their fascination.

Hange grinned, curling their fingers to stroke that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "So responsive to stimuli. Let me try something..."

They withdrew their fingers slightly, only to add a third, the stretch making you gasp and clutch at the sheets. Hange paused, letting you adjust, their free hand rubbing soothing circles on your lower back.

"Too much?" they asked, a rare note of concern breaking through their scientific enthusiasm.

"No," you panted, pushing back against their hand. "More, please—"

Hange chuckled, the sound warm and pleased. "Greedy little thing, aren't you?" They resumed their movements, fucking you steadily with three fingers now, the obscene wet sounds filling the quiet room. "I love how desperate you get for me. How your body just opens up, like it was made to take me inside."

Your thighs began to quiver with the effort of maintaining your position, pleasure building relentlessly as Hange worked their fingers in and out of you. They seemed entranced by the sight, occasionally murmuring praise or filthy observations that made your face burn and your pussy clench around them.

"Look how wet you're getting," they marveled, their free hand sliding up to grasp your hip, holding you steady as their pace increased. "Dripping down your thighs—fuck, that's hot."

The combination of their words and the rhythmic pressure of their fingers against that perfect spot inside you had you racing toward the edge. Your back arched deeper, pressing your chest into the mattress as you rocked back against their hand, desperate for more.

"Hange," you whimpered, the familiar tension coiling tighter in your belly. "I'm close."

"I know," they said, voice tight with their own arousal. "I can feel it—the way you're squeezing my fingers, getting even wetter. Are you going to come for me? Let me see it happen, let me feel you fall apart."

You came with a strangled cry, your inner walls pulsing around their fingers, your whole body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. Hange worked you through it, murmuring praise and encouragement as you rode out your orgasm on their hand.

"Beautiful," they breathed as your tremors subsided, slowly withdrawing their fingers. "Absolutely fucking beautiful."

You collapsed onto the bed, boneless and panting, only to feel Hange's weight shift behind you. You turned your head just in time to see them bring their glistening fingers to their mouth, sucking them clean with a groan of pure pleasure.

"Delicious," they declared, eyes locking with yours as their tongue swirled around their fingers. "Better than any experiment."

Despite your exhaustion, you felt a fresh pulse of desire at the sight. Hange noticed, their lips curving into a knowing smile as they released their fingers with an obscene pop.

"Don't think we're done yet," they warned, eyes gleaming. "I still need my turn, and you look like you've got plenty more to give me."

They flopped onto their back beside you, still fully clothed, though their shirt was rumpled and half-unbuttoned. They beckoned you with a crook of their finger, that familiar manic grin spreading across their face.

"Come here," they said, patting their thighs. "I want that pretty mouth of yours."

You pushed yourself up on shaky arms, crawling over to them with renewed purpose. Your fingers worked at the buttons of their shirt, revealing more of their lean, scarred torso with each one that came undone. Hange watched you with hooded eyes, their breath quickening as you pushed the fabric aside to expose their chest.

"These too," you murmured, tugging at their pants. Hange lifted their hips, allowing you to pull the garment down their legs, leaving them in just their underwear.

You traced the outline of their arousal through the thin fabric, delighting in their sharp intake of breath. "Can I?" you asked, fingers hooking under the waistband.

"Yes," Hange hissed, lifting their hips again. "God, yes."

You pulled the underwear down slowly, teasingly, until Hange was completely bare before you. Your mouth watered at the sight of them, slick and swollen with need.

"You're so wet," you whispered, echoing their earlier words as you settled between their spread legs.

"Your fault," they groaned, propping themselves up on their elbows to watch you. "Been thinking about your mouth on me all week—dreaming about it, practically."

You didn't make them wait any longer. Lowering your head, you dragged your tongue through their folds in one long, slow lick, moaning at the taste that flooded your mouth. Hange's head fell back with a strangled curse, their hips jerking up against your face.

"Fuck—yes—just like that," they gasped, one hand coming down to tangle in your still-damp hair.

You settled into a rhythm, alternating between broad strokes of your tongue and focused attention on the bundle of nerves that made Hange's thighs shake on either side of your head. Their fingers tightened in your hair, not quite painful but definitely controlling, guiding you where they needed you most.

"Right there," they directed, voice strained. "Harder—fuck—"

You obeyed eagerly, increasing the pressure of your tongue as you slid two fingers inside them, curling upward to stroke against their inner walls. Hange let out a broken moan, their grip on your hair tightening as their hips rocked against your face.

"Such a good girl," they praised breathlessly, the words sending a thrill through you. "So perfect."

Their praise spurred you on, making you redouble your efforts. You worked your fingers inside them, matching the rhythm of your tongue, determined to make them feel as good as they'd made you feel.

Hange's other hand joined the first in your hair, both now guiding your movements more forcefully, tugging you exactly where they wanted you. The slight sting of your scalp only heightened your arousal, making you press your thighs together as you pleasured them.

"Look at me," Hange commanded, voice rough. "Want to see your eyes while you fuck me with that pretty mouth."

You glanced up, meeting their intense gaze over the plane of their stomach. The sight of them—flushed and disheveled, glasses askew, watching you with such raw hunger—nearly undid you. You moaned against them, the vibration making their hips buck harder against your face.

"God, the way you look right now," they groaned, one hand loosening its grip to stroke your cheek almost tenderly. "My beautiful, filthy girl, face all wet with me—"

Their words dissolved into incoherent sounds as you sucked harder on their clit, curling your fingers more firmly inside them. You could feel them getting close—the way their inner walls clenched around your fingers, the increasing desperation in their movements.

"Don't stop," they gasped, fingers tightening painfully in your hair now, holding you firmly in place. "Fuck—I'm so close—don't you dare fucking stop—"

You had no intention of stopping. You worked your tongue over them relentlessly, your fingers fucking into them harder, faster, chasing their pleasure with single-minded determination. Hange's body went taut, their thighs clamping around your head, their back arching off the bed as they came with a hoarse cry of your name.

You gentled your movements but didn't stop, working them through the aftershocks, only pulling away when they tugged weakly at your hair in silent signal that it was too much.

"Holy shit," Hange breathed, collapsing back onto the bed, their chest heaving. "That was—fuck—get up here."

You crawled up their body, settling against their side. Hange immediately pulled you into a messy kiss, groaning at the taste of themselves on your lips and tongue. When they finally broke away, they were grinning again, that wild, excited expression that never failed to make your heart skip.

"You know," they mused, fingers tracing idle patterns on your bare hip, "I think I'm going to need more of these private research sessions. For science, of course."

You laughed, burying your face against their neck. "Of course. For science."

Hange's arms tightened around you, their voice dropping to something softer, more serious. "And just so we're clear—about Erwin, about anyone—you're mine. My assistant, my research partner, my—" They paused, seemingly searching for the right word.

"Yours," you supplied simply, pressing a kiss to their collarbone. "Just yours."

The tension you hadn't even realized was in their body melted away at your words. Their fingers threaded through your hair, gentler now, as they pulled you in for another kiss.

"Good," they murmured against your lips. "Because I'm not very good at sharing my favorite discoveries."

#hange x reader smut #hange smut #smut #aot x reader #aot x reader smut #aot #aot smut #hange x reader #hange zoe

41 notes · View notes

takusan-no-ai · 2 days ago

Text

Rappa-Jitsu!

PAIRING: Sara/Yoimiya/Miko/Shinobu x Male Reader (Romantic) (Separate)

SUMMARY: Their boyfriend thinks he’s a ninja.

Sara is often too busy for your shenanigans. She loves you and definitely wants you to be her husband someday in the future, but she can and will leave you to think about the consequences of your actions in jail. It’s quite rare that she bails you out of jail, and many times Sara is the one who arrested you to begin with.

She appreciates your help with upholding the law, but she wishes you would rein it in on the vigilante justice a bit. Your righteousness and sense of justice is beautiful to her, almost as beautiful as the Raiden Shogun herself, but Sara still sees you as a civilian; no matter how good of a ninja you are Sara’s first priority is to protect you (sometimes from yourself).

Putting criminal activities aside, Sara loves your more artistic abilities. She makes sure you get proper permissions first, but afterwards she enjoys her breaks from work by just watching you make art. Whether it’s graffiti tagging a wall with something glamorous, or attending to one of your shows and listening to you rap your heart out; as much as Sara obeys the Shogun, it’s your kind of freedom that she lives to see grow.

She doesn’t always openly show or admit it, but Sara has a loving heart. So much so that it hurts her to see you sad. She doesn’t know everything about your past, but she does offer a listening ear and her heartfelt support. For all the things that Sara is, she isn’t a selfish lover, and she wants her boyfriend to be happy and know he is loved.

Yoimiya loved you at first sight! You both meshed perfectly together like two puzzle pieces. You both loved being loud, making others happy, protecting people, and having fun. Yoimiya never had so much fun before she met you; don’t get her wrong, she loved hanging with Thoma, Ayaka, ect. But this was her first time having a boyfriend, let alone one she clicked with instantly.

She always looks forward to dates with you. There’s never a dull moment when you’re both together. She even came up with a secret language for the both of you, in regard to her struggling to understand your whole “Way of the ninja” thing at first. And she loves seeing how well you get along with children. Yoimiya hopes that your good vibes and influence can encourage them to spread that joy too.

Speaking of good vibes, Yoimiya started to promote the family business in a new way: the ninja way. Bright colorful graffiti inspired fireworks have her overflowing with ideas for hundreds of combinations. She’s even looking into making silent ones for ninjas who want to work with a little more flare. (You both don’t get how counterintuitive that is to ninjas).

There are times when you’ll stop behaving like usual, when your memories of the past come back to haunt you. How they’ve deeply affected you as a person. Yoimiya can’t stand to see her boyfriend, shoulder, rock, and best friend, suffering. So, to make you feel better, she’ll take you to a remote island, light some fireworks, and nestle into you.

After seeing her boyfriend’s ninjutsu skills, Miko immediately puts you to work. Sure, she may be a shrine maiden, the Guuji Yae, but even the Grand Narukami Shrine has a few…less than ideal issues it needs help cleaning up behind the scenes. Miko always makes an effort to praise you for your hard labor and righteousness towards protecting Inazuma.

She is aware of your circumstances involving a virus, which is why Miko was never bothered by your strange behavior and way of speaking. She is also aware that sometimes you’re able to skirt past those restrictions and speak your mind clearly. It’s during those periods that Miko is especially attentive of your feelings.

But Miko has never been one to mellow in the sadness. So one of her favorite pass times is teasing you about your ninja life. “Technically a ninja and a shrine maiden are forbidden to love one another.” She’ll pull that rule out of nowhere and watch as you try to find any and all loopholes from your light novels. She’ll tell you she’s joking…eventually.

There are few times she’s actually angry. Even Ei would avoid pushing Miko to her limits. But you? Her sweet, delulu boyfriend? No. You volunteered to help her shrine when they were short staffed, and it led to you rapping to clients about their problems. Graffiti spraying fortunes on scrolls, and completely breaking the dress code in unspeakable ways. Some say they can still hear the screams of an enraged kitsune chasing a screaming ninja across the vast ocean.

Shinobu loves you very much. She also loves when you’re not acting like a fool. Between Itto and those goofballs causing trouble, you werent any better. In fact, you being able to sneak around like a ninja made it more of a challenge for Shinobu to track you down. But she does always find you. And you’re lucky to be her boyfriend or else she’d discipline you harder.

She’s always having to bail you out of jail for many things: graffiti, vigilante justice, and loud rapping. She doesn’t mind babysitting you in comparison to her colleagues; it’s mostly thanks to your similarities with each other. Rebellious, independent, and intelligent in your own ways.

You’re both quiet about your pasts and don’t pry each other for details. But sometimes those memories come back to you, and you’ll bypass your restrictions to talk to her about it. Shinobu hangs onto each and every word, promising to protect your memories in her heart. She knows what’s it like to have secrets, as well as those days where you let them spill for just a moment.

Dating can be silly for a lack of better words. Dinner dates aren’t safe from your ramblings on the world of ninjutsu. And it gets even more chaotic when you both run into The Arataki Gang; Itto and you will get into a fisticuffs about whose style is stronger, meanwhile Shinobu is left wondering if she has a type for goofball men or if she just likes testing herself.

- Fin

#sara kujou x reader #sara kujou #yoimiya naganohara x reader #yoimiya naganohara #miko yae x reader #miko yae #shinobu kuki x reader #shinobu kuki #genshin impact x reader #male reader #headcanon

48 notes · View notes

mixed-match-archive · 3 days ago

Text

The continuation of this post

Please note this is illogical bullshit and very much based on my personal feelings so...

Sakura.

1) She was on a team with Jesus and Jesus pt2 so I think it's only fair

2) Naruto spent years chasing sasuke and making big statements like "when you hurt I hurt" and "I want to share your burdens" so any decisions he makes regarding him (ie trusting any information he has about the alien clan) should/realistically would be questioned in the story (but it's not D:) but if Sakura was the hokage she could both vouch for his character and make unbiased decisions regarding him without it being heavily questioned

3 ) she was training under tsunade while she was hokage so it would be a lot easier for her slide into the role then a lot of other characters

Tenten.

1) I like tenten

2) Ok so this is gonna be hard to explain but the interpretation I got from naruto's whole "I'm gonna be the hokage" thing was that he felt it was just the easiest way to make people care about him but after the story plays out naruto has everything he wanted so being the hokage has none of the worth it used to have but he's the hokage in the end anyway which ruins the whole thing but I'm pretty sure the only reason that happened (besides my interpretation being wrong) is because it's been built up so long and it's like damn who else is gonna do it

Whos gonna take the place of hokage thats not important enough to get mad at but at the same time isn't just some guy we've never heard of enter tenten a background character that has little to no interactions with team 7 but is still a strong and capable ninja that we know nothing about which makes the concept of her secretly dreaming of becoming the hokage the tiniest bit more believable

So to quickly wrap up my thoughts to have something naruto strived towards for so long be '''taken''' by a background character and him feeling nothing about it whatsoever would drive home the point that hey maybe I don't have to become the equivalent of a war hero king president God to be loved

And if you're really attracted to him being hokage tenten doesn't HAVE to become hokage she could just make naruto question if he really wants to be hokage which could end in him choosing to continue down the path for reasons other than his unbearable loneliness

Of course this is in a world where my interpretation of naruto is the correct one but every time I rewatch Naruto I think I'm more and more wrong and completely missing the point also this option sucks because it makes tenten a plot device and she doesn't deserve that so disregard it

Kiba.

1) It'd be funny as fuck

2) this post

3) I would like to see how his character acts in this type of scenario

Shino.

1) I think we can all agree that one of the biggest problems in konoha is how much shit gets past the hokage but if shino was the hokage he could just plant bugs on people like picture this

shino: you've been taking an interest in illegal experimentation recently you know that goes against the terms of your probation.

Orochimaru: hokage-sama I only read a book I would hardly call that taking an intere- wait how do you even know about that?

Shino: your headlice told me.

2) it'd be funny as fuck

Shikamaru.

1) He smart

2) He can put in the work if he wants to (ie any situation he's ever been involved in)

3) it'd be funny as fuck

#tenten #haruno sakura #shino aburame #shikamaru nara #kiba inuzuka #naruto #naruto shippuden #naruto tenten #naruto shino #naruto kiba #naruto sakura #naruto shikamaru #long post #boruto #orochimaru #naruto orochimaru #hokage #naruto uzumaki

33 notes · View notes

bimoonphases · 3 days ago

Text

@wolfstarmicrofic June 5 - prompt 5: Fairy [word count 489]

Sometimes, Sirius was afraid. Afraid that somehow his upbringing would still show up despite decades away from his blood family. Afraid that those 12 years in Azkaban had left more in him than not liking closed spaces. Afraid that despite the influence of Remus their children would turn up mad or way too similar to his parents. Remus had to take him by the hands and calm him down every time Anwell gave them the silent treatment when they stopped him from eating another piece of chocolate (the boy had Remus's sweet tooth) or Estelle threw one of her tantrums.

"You're a wonderful father Padfoot, trust me," he would say slowly. "They're kids, it's normal to act out sometimes. Remember James's tantrums? And he was way older than Estelle then!"

Sometimes it worked, sometimes it took some more reassurance, especially if he was in his head about his own parents looking up from the Hell they were in and knowing he would fail his children as they had failed theirs.

"Moony, what if they turn up like my mother?" he would whisper. "She's their grandmother after all, what if it just skipped a generation and..."

"Sirius," Remus would hug him. "My love. They're adopted. There is no genetic part of Walburga in either of them."

His fear kicked in especially when they had things to do in the village or with the Muggle school the children went to while they waited to be of age for Hogwarts. What if he found out they were snobby towards the other kids, what if they got angry and beat someone up, what if they hurled insults at other children? He knew they were polite and kind, still the irrational fears were always there, lurking in his mind.

"Papa, look! I'm a banana!"

Sirius turned around from the front door to look at the ten-year old dressed up as a giant banana for the Carnival fair and burst out laughing.

"You're looking so good mon cœur," he planted a kiss on top of the banana. "Where's your sister?"

"Here," Remus appeared on top of the stairs. "Come down slowly, seren fach, we don't want glitter everywhere."

The request was promptly ignored as Estelle ran down, coming to a screeching halt in front of Sirius in a cloud of silver glitter and pink tulle.

"Papa, papa, regarde! I'm a fairy!"

Sirius swallowed as his daughter twirled on herself, a bright smile on her little face.

"You look amazing, ma petite étoile," he tugged one of her curls behind her sparkling tiara. "Shall we go?"

As the banana and the fairy bounced down the front steps and across the garden, Remus took Sirius's hand.

"Calmer now, my love?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Sirius smiled, pulling his husband in a kiss. "Whatever nasty influence my mother could have from beyond the grave there's no way she could win over a giant banana and a glittery fairy."

#WOLFSTAR ADOPTING CHILDREN IS BACK #oh I missed them #aren't they adorable?#both Sirius and Remus call Estelle little star because of her name #and Sirius calls Anwell my heart #i love them your honor #wolfstar #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar adopting children #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #domestic wolfstar #marauders #post war wolfstar

27 notes · View notes

bluemoonpunch · 20 hours ago

Text

🌟The Elemental Alignment of Jeon Jungkook (Part 2) - Tarot & Oracle Reading

[Performed: May 24, 2025 / Posted: June 7, 2025]

NOTES

I was already feeling this guy’s energy buzzing up the line before I even started setting things up for this reading and it was so refreshing after the last couple that I did which were a bit heavy and frustrating to work through. After tapping in, the first thing I saw was a big, wide-open field, blue skies and green grass. It was very vivid but also very dreamlike, solid but spacey at the same time like there was just a bit of a mist to everything. I was almost expecting Jungkook’s higher awareness to show up in this space, and have a more solid connection like I did with Taehyung, but no. He was not available on that level because he’s operating in the same “space” as Jin right now, he’s operating as a generator, warming things up.

As I see it, if we think of Jin’s soul as “opening the restaurant,” turning all the lights on, starting up the machines, making the coffee, Jungkook is outside turning on the signs and placing the advertising menus on the front of the building. This is very interesting to me because, as discussed in Taehyung’s Elemental Alignment and Saturn’s Trial Readings and regarding the previous Soul Body, Jin and Taehyung were the energy generators. They stimulated the energy inside (Jin) and the energy that would be projected outward (Taehyung), which would then be anchored in or delivered to the lower levels through Jungkook. It would appear that Taehyung and Jungkook have switched places due to Taehyung’s current issues with the soul split and the degradation of his energy center overall.

It was shown in Taehyung’s readings that there is potential for him to be situated in such a way where he would act as an anchor of sorts that would be able to pick up the higher frequencies of the new etheric Soul Body and project or “broadcast” them outward toward the public, but he would not be able to produce his own transmissions. It’s sort of like a non-functioning position as his energy center would just be a standard conduit at that point and, technically, the point of the new “etheric” body is that it does not require anchors or “physical” tethers. It is possible that we could see a more concrete switch of the energy centers, with Jungkook registering as the Sacral Chakra and Taehyung registering as the Root. This is a more tangible switch compared to what I thought I was seeing with Hoseok and Jimin “switching places.” There they were just switching roles or general functions, but they were still holding their original signatures as the Throat and the Heart.

Now, with Jungkook, there’s very, very vibrant energy being stimulated in his core, and it’s in such a way where I would say he’s already experienced a high level of integration, possibly due to his more direct connection between the soul and the body as the Root of the original Soul Body itself. Back to that field I saw, it was Jungkook’s inner world but it was “stretching beyond the globe,” almost like his inner world was attempting to turn inside out in order to reconnect with or encase the soul. It had something to do with a kind of magnetic signature thing, like the energy of the inner world was completely made up of projections of the soul’s “light” and it was trying to make its way back to the source. It was a “natural occurrence” that was making things so vivid yet so dreamlike all at once.

I was getting a lot of flashes of Jungkook running out, arms spread open, and his shirt burning off of him because his body was glowing so brightly, and then eventually his chest sort of burst open, and this extremely bright light, like looking directly at the sun, just spilled out of him and took over everything. Along with this, some things looked like restraints, something that looked more like a corset and armbands, kind of like something you would expect women to be wearing in the Victorian age. They were across his chest and arms, and they were rapidly snapping, all the strings and pins flying off as he flexed and continued to stretch his body. This light continued to spill out of him. It was like some kind of Incredible Hulk type situation, but rather than his actual body getting bigger, his energy was just shooting out of him. He seemed really happy about it.

This all kept playing over and over again, and so eventually I was like, okay, can anyone tell me what the heck I’m looking at. There was a very helpful and friendly Guide, one of Jungkook’s who kind of seemed new or maybe just new to the space. New to me, maybe? They were very direct and very clear in their effort to show me what was happening with Jungkook’s energy. They showed me a hard-to-describe image that confirmed that he is or will soon be, with “The Big Bang,” operating with a fully integrated soul. They reminded me that Jungkook’s soul technically is the oldest in the sense that he was the first to originally split from the body when it was one whole soul. He was the first to integrate into the human experience and was the first to begin developing individually. Because of that, he’s sort of leading the charge when it comes to anchoring the souls into the physical forms, which I suppose makes perfect sense as that’s the literal function of the Root in a person’s body — connects the soul to the body, and the body to the Earth.

There’s a conscious level element of excitement and a sense of very grand expansion of his own vision, mainly concerning what he himself can do and be. It’s very exciting but I have not a single clue as to what that could even relate to specifically. It’s very similar to Jimin where his Guides kept popping in like “There’s more to come, he’s only halfway there,” but here, it’s Jungkook’s energy on his own being like “OH I AM SOOOOO GOING TO BLOW THE TOP OFF OF THIS JOINT AS SOON AS I GET THE CHANCE!” Like, he is so hyped on all levels.

On a conscious level, this was shown to be connected to his official disengagement with the military — this was connected back to the image of the corset and the armbands, which I guess could have been a more restrictive version of the military uniform. In simple terms, it was shown to me that Jungkook, once out of the military, sees all of the time remaining in his life, all of his future to be purely under his own command. There was an element of intentional filtration or holding back to make room for the obligatory service, willfully cutting into his time and temporarily “turning off” his own generator to let his body and mind focus and operate well within his service. It’s a very well-thought-out system, very synced up between his conscious mind and his soul. There’s almost no separation at all here with this.

It’s like the last layer of outside restraints will be flung off of him and he will just BURST like the Sun and just… I don’t even know??? I want to say he’s going to fuck the world, but like… in a good way. Big up on that Yang energy, big man energy in the room right now, lol.

The last thing that I was shown was something within that open field I was in, to begin with. I saw the entire field suddenly become overrun with dandelions, the yellow ones, and they were all kind of vibrating before they burst into the white fluffy ones and the seeds started to blow away, and again, everything became very misty. The Guide explained that the yellow dandelion was Jungkook before and during the military service and the fluffy seed-spitting dandelion was representative of Jungkook’s rapid expansion in both the physical space and within the Soul Body. It was displaying the same kind of “physical” to “etheric” that the Soul Body was demonstrating from the previous form to the new. They said he is “beyond blossoming,” which is something that keeps coming up — “beyond rebirth,” “beyond an album,” “beyond blossoming.” Everything is so incomprehensible with “The Big Bang” shenanigans.

GUIDELINE

At the very front, The Healer and The One reflect the element of soul integration. I see the three heads of the snake connecting to the conscious, subconscious, and higher unconscious mind, these thought streams operating as one. Then, the more physical integration or the solidification of the personal alignment portrayed in those three circle things in the middle of the card. The One itself is projecting ALL of his energy at once, that beaming bright light, like looking straight into the sun, very vivid but very hazy and dreamlike at the same time. He is very TURNED ON right now, like this is really some of the clearest personal alignment and integration I’ve seen in a very, very long time, and I think this is the only time I’ve seen the soul operating this clearly through the conscious level without any kind of filter or resistance.

This bit made me a little bit sad because this was, along with the next section, showcasing a kind of side-operation, or an attempt at a side-operation within the Soul Body. Essentially, this is connecting back to the state of Taehyung’s energy center and soul. As I mentioned, Jungkook’s soul was the first to separate and integrate, and Taehyung’s was the second, he followed right along behind Jungkook’s soul. You can kind of say, on a soul level, they “grew up together,” they functioned quite closely. Especially during the Soul Body manipulation, they were always shown to be “sitting next to each other,” and holding a certain level of balanced opposition, which equated to the two “feet” of the distorted body attempting to keep balance for the whole structure. At that time, if I remember correctly, they were operating under Venus and Mars — Taehyung held Mars and Jungkook held Venus. As these were not their own natural signatures entirely on their own, they kept coming up as a “child of Venus” and a “child of Mars,” suggesting they were delivering these energies rather than producing them on their own.

There’s a split here between Synergy and Listening, mainly in the images, where I see Listening being a severely warped and distorted connection or relay that is displayed in Synergy. This occurs through Chaos and Conflict, which is connected back to the issues shown with Taehyung’s soul. With Synergy, this is registering as a time when “the lines were clear,” there was a clear connection that would have allowed Jungkook’s energy center to potentially help Taehyung’s or at least be in communication, and now, with the distorted image of Listening, it feels like he’s literally trying to call Taehyung’s soul and can’t get through. There’s quite a bit of distress in there as he seems to be aware of what has happened, but is not able to step out of his position or connect with Taehyung’s soul due to the intended “quarantine.”

There is a lot of stress in this, but it’s not taking away from his soul’s operating in the current or new body, or his conscious level progression. He’s very aware of the issue but he seems to be trusting Taehyung’s Guides to handle things properly, but he’s certainly trying to connect with or reach Taehyung on some level. It’s like he’s checking his text messages while he’s outside the restaurant to see if Taehyung’s soul has been able to get back to him. Most likely, there’s no contact reaching either side with the separation and quarantine.

On a lighter note, and some of you may need to skip this bit (depending on whether or not you’re the type to send me rude, insane, or threatening messages for even suggesting that these two know each other), the Flirtation card is showing Jimin and Jungkook’s souls working together on SOMETHING, something relating to the idea of them taking their inner worlds, which have often been shown to be connected, and bringing them out into the real world through the Tenth House. The Tenth House card is number 34, which I was seeing as carrying 4th-dimensional elements down into the 3rd Dimension, visions of the inner world being brought to life through both of them together.

In the image of Flirtation, Jungkook is the figure on the left with the Sun behind him, high noon, big sunburst energy, and Jimin is the figure on the tight, with the light around the head going back to his Full Moon energy. They’re both displayed here as being at their peaks, the point in which Jungkook is completely without restraints and Jimin can express beyond the current inhibitions that keep him in his “half-moon” state.

I was seeing the flowers around them reflecting the dandelion seeds that I saw blowing around in Jungkook’s inner world, and the pink and flowy energy there felt very much so connected to the “beautiful, so beautiful,” thing in Jimin’s Elemental Alignment reading, which was all about him wanting to curate a dreamlife, giving himself and others the absolute best of everything.

The Flirtation card is associated with Venus in Sagittarius, which was vibing off of Jimin’s Libra energy and this majorly expansive energy that Jungkook is expressing, connecting to Jupiter/Sagittarius. There’s an interesting thing here, with the Sun being in the sky, and me seeing the Moon as being around Jimin’s head, where it seems like, as nature would have it, the Sun is illuminating the figure into the Full Moon. There’s an emphasis on the left figure playing music, so this could suggest a collaboration between the two where Jimin is brought forward in a new and interesting way. I’m also very focused on the left figure seeming to lead the other, their steps are ahead and with more stride.

This could be something of an effect that Jungkook will have on everyone, this illumination, but it’s very focused on Jimin, and again, there’s something here about them taking their inner world, which have usually been interwoven for various reasons, and bringing them out into the real world, displaying them in some way. This is quite significant, it’s on his mind.

This set seems to just be reflecting the position as a generator in the Soul Body with Power, along with the conscious level integration of this energy showing to be blossoming through him individually with Lonely. There’s a reflection here of the petals blooming out of the figure’s head lining up with the dandelions in the inner world as well as the flowers shown in Flirtation.

At the top of this set, the only Shadow card that he has is the Self-Sacrifice card which came out alongside Out of The Woods. I was seeing this connecting to two different things, one of which is his own past “self-sacrifice,” which is something well past him now that had previously led him to struggle with allowing himself to grow up and not be “the baby” which is what he thought ARMYs wanted him to be forever. He’s “out of the woods” on this, he’s grown past the energy lines (shown as branches and roots in a forest) that held him back or made him second guess himself.

On another level, I’m seeing this connect back to Chaos and Conflict, or his soul’s concern or attempts to contact Taehyung’s soul. It’s showing up the same way where the energy lines are being or have been cut for the sake of protecting the overall Soul Body. In this sense, he’s “out of the woods” of any potential issues reaching him or anyone else, but it seems his soul is still a bit iffy about this. It’s like his soul is trying really hard to trust the process and just focus on his work, but he also seems extremely aware that this isn’t supposed to be happening. It comes off a bit like his Guides communicating with him and trying to get him to understand that the same kind of benefit he got from disconnecting from or at least greatly filtering his connection to his audience is the same benefit he and the others will get from the separation and filtering of their connection to Taehyung’s soul.

Following that, there’s that big bursting energy again with The Big Bang, which connects back to the revival of the Soul Body. This was quite interesting actually because it came with a visual that showed that same kind of mirrored stance that Jungkook and Namjoon have always had as the “bookends” of the Soul Body. They’ve switched modalities before, the modalities of their Virgo Suns, for the sake of their own personal progression and development. I was seeing Namjoon’s “big bang” situation, where I saw him as this star on the verge of exploding and creating a new solar system (the new Soul Body), or a new Universe within the Universe, being reflected in Jungkook’s “sunburst” situation. Namjoon’s doing nearly the same thing just on a much higher level. He’s activating the souls, and it seems like Jungkook may be stimulating the souls (along with Jin), but also having quite a big effect on the conscious and physical level elements too, becoming the Sun that shines on everyone.

This is also bringing to mind the idea of those flowers in Flirtation blooming with the light of Jungkook’s Sunburst energy. He’s illuminating Jimin there, kind of creating a “bloom” of that half-moon into a Full Moon, and this seems to be something that’s occurring on multiple levels. The effect of this may be more vivid with Jimin as this seems to be a priority or focus for Jungkook’s soul and the conscious mind, but there’s going to be some level of attention-grabbing or highlighting coming off of him that rubs off on the others all around.

With The Big Bang connecting to Self-Rule, this is emphasizing what I was seeing with his complete separation from the military triggering this new level of freedom and sense of control over his time and energy for, like, literally the rest of his life. He’s going to be very, very committed to living by his own rules and pushing forward with his own desires, visions, and pleasures.

Broken Bridge and Third Person POV felt connected to Taehyung again, with acknowledgment of that separation along with this sort of “outsider perspective.” This could either be his soul seeing Taehyung as an outsider, or this could be referring to the soul’s perception of himself to be an “outsider” or someone who does not have any control or influence over this issue. Again, he’s quite stressed with this but also very aware that there’s nothing he can do. He’s getting on with everything else, keeping everything pushing, but he’s got it in the back of his mind like ISSUE ISSUE BIG ISSUE.

And then, lastly, the Ace of Cups and the 6 of Wands felt like an interesting side-note, something that is very significant but is laid out here like an afterthought. The Ace of Cups represents the soul’s direct input or influence that will be or already has been delivered to Jungkook’s conscious level mind, which is incredibly receptive right now. This contains the vision of the 6 of Wands, which is about fame and recognition, something that would cause Jungkook himself to be celebrated and acknowledged quite clearly as someone who is standing out amongst the crowd. This is something of his own solo work. I’m wondering if this is being laid out as a “side-note” because, very similar to conscious level Jungkook, he really does prioritize the whole group/Soul Body over himself. He’ll put EVERYTHING he has into his own work and make his own personal visions a reality, but it’s always going to register as second to his role in the group. He really loves them so much on all levels.

MAIN READING

CORE ENERGY: SWAN — WATER (REV.) + SCORPION — FIRE

Oh my god, this is actually so cool. This is reflecting the Ace of Cups and the 6 of Wands through higher (reversed to reflect unconscious) Water energy, inspiration from the soul, and conscious level execution of Fire energy. The ability to balance Water and Fire, in general, is already insanely hard for anyone, it requires such a deliberate focus and effort to maintain on all levels, a certain level of alignment, and it’s shown here to be flowing so smoothly between energies that you would think completely oppose each other.

Again, the Swan is reversed to reflect the element of the unconscious, the soul reflecting downward into the conscious mind, which is already shown to be pretty much fully integrated with the soul. The Scorpion, the image with the orange at the point of the stinger, feels like that burst of Sun energy, Yang energy, this massive amount of expression and excitement. The big difference here though, between the Scorpion and the standard Sunburst we have in the upper sets, especially in Flirtation, is that this is very directed. It’s sharp and intentionally aimed at something, perhaps the world in general. There could even be some level of setting boundaries very openly, laying down some kind of law very publicly that would allow him to comfortably open the floodgates and allow more of that expression to come through. There’s an urge of inspiration moving through The Swan and it’s hitting the Scorpion with the urge to act very, very specifically toward a very specific goal that will ensure his ability to express more and achieve the 6 of Wands further.

His core energy is already very plugged into the soul and Higher Self, so pretty sure everything else after this is an aspect of support for this conjuring force here.

HIGHER SELF CORE ALIGNMENT: ZEBRA — FIRE

I’m just going to include the description of this card here because it’s just giving us a snapshot of Jungkook’s soul on its own, and it seems to even connect back to Flirtation and the Tenth House, as well as the significance of open expression and his desire to bring his inner visions out into the world.

“Zebra — eccentric, creative, visionary — Zebras are the most precious of gems. They are young at heart, well-cultured, and have an undying curiosity about life. Being in the company of a Zebra personality not only is a delight but also opens our minds. Be prepared… their potent magic is contagious and you may soon find yourself in a faraway land, expanding your worldview while having a blast. Zebras also like to contribute to the global health through environmental or volunteer work. This card may be a hint to pack your bags. — worldly, enthusiastic, fashion-forward.”

WATER ALIGNMENT: TURTLE — WATER

OH MY GODDDDD, this is so refreshing. I feel like it’s so often that the Water Alignment has a bit of an issue, even just a little bit of murkiness from tidbits of self-doubt or painful emotions, there’s always something going on. But here, for Jungkook, the Water Alignment is reflecting his soul integration and is showing this space, which rules over emotions, creativity, and intuition, to be so clear, clean, and crisp. It’s got a nice cool energy to it, there’s a softness to the energy but a very well-focused and determined movement behind the Turtle itself.

This is connected back to the Ace of Cups. The description of this card mentions the Turtle collecting life experience under its shell, using it as inspiration and building on it in creative and communicative spaces. That’s how I see the soul connect directly to Jungkook’s conscious level mind through the receptive space of the Water Alignment. It’s like the Turtle itself is Jungkook’s conscious mind, the shell being his skull, and the Water that it moves through not being connected to the soul, but being the soul itself. Water, inspiration, and elements of the soul are being delivered into the skull, the shell, the mind very vividly and directly. The Turtle’s connection to both Earth and Water energy also reflects the balanced connection between conscious and unconscious levels of awareness.

It’s such a clear connection, it almost feels like Jungkook is literally drinking straight out of the Ace of Cups in order to have this alignment.

For reference, here’s the description of this card as well:

“Turtle — ancient soul, grounded, trusting, at home in the self — It is wonderful to be in the presence of a Turtle personality. Like the Beaver, the Turtle has a strong relationship with the Earth and Water elements simultaneously. This helps to ground and connect them to the deeper truths of life, no matter where their travels lead them. Turtle energy is behind all great writers and storytellers as they collect life experiences under their shells for later use. The most potent Turtle energy helps us close all the other books and begin to tell our own true tale. — peaceful, adventurous, productive.”

FIRE ALIGNMENT: COBRA — FIRE

Again, there’s SUCH a clean energy here. It’s so strong and vibrant, but it’s very stable as well. The Cobra is described as being in a pause and waiting for a moment to strike or act on something, and that’s exactly what this feels like. It’s such a well-developed energy where it is extremely stimulated, very amplified in the Fire Alignment, which governs over the active energy toward a person’s creation, action, and expression, as well as being so well contained. It is such a good display of how his higher energy is literally sitting within his conscious and physical level containers, his mind and body. Everything, all levels, are so in tune with each other. This is great evidence of Jungkook’s soul’s development regarding its connection to, influence over, and operation within the human consciousness and the 3D physical realms. It’s like expertly driving a massive truck that’s holding the entire Sun on the back through the streets of a small city without causing any kind of disturbance.

With the relation to guides and teachers, the Cobra was also making me think of the potential of Jungkook possibly leading others, especially Jimin, toward their own integration or “full blossoming” of the soul on a conscious and physical level. It’s like this part of him is waiting to burst out and express himself while also waiting for The Big Bang to occur so he can snap into action and help the others integrate and shine even more vividly in their own light.

“Cobra — pausing, waiting, the inner teacher — The Cobra represents a teacher or spiritual guardian. The Cobra hovers and watches, ever-present, ever-protecting, ever-loving. The essence of the Cobra is found deep within us in the form of the inner-teacher, and manifests externally in those special guides who’ve led us along our path. What would it feel like to be a student again? What are you ready to learn? Remember the old saying, “when the student is ready, the teacher appears.””

EARTH ALIGNMENT: DRAGON — SPIRIT

ASSOCIATED CHAKRA: SOLAR PLEXUS

Again, it’s the soul being reflected here, more prominently than even in the Water Alignment, which is insane as this Earth Alignment shows a person’s connection to their environment, their body, and their self-perception. Jungkook, while he may not directly see it as his soul, I think he’s literally seeing himself, or will very soon, as his most idolized form. Like, he is who he wants to be and it’s just a matter of coming out fully to show everyone. I’m seeing it like a literal mythical dragon, people not believing it's real, and suddenly, after waiting patiently like the Cobra, he emerges. He breathes fire, he shines the sun on everything. He makes you believe in him the way he believes in himself, he delivers his vision of himself to you, to the world. It’s so crazy cool, like I need to write a manual on soul integration and just use Jungkook as the only example.

The association with the Solar Plexus, which is the source or epicenter of the constant and involuntary energetic projections. It’s always connected to the soul to some extent and can constantly change or evolve when the soul is not fully integrated. This suggests that this is locked in, it’s there, it’s anchored, he is with himself on all levels. I really think his confidence levels are going to be off the charts after the revival happens because there won’t be very much room left for doubts, he’ll see everything so clearly, and have such a clear vision of how to do things, how to make things happen. It’ll be quite a treat to see what he comes up with artistry-wise or what other ventures he goes on with his career.

I want to include the full description of this card as well, and try to keep in mind the idea of Jungkook’s soul illuminating himself as well as the others, along with the history of his soul’s development in general, being the first to separate and begin development through the human consciousness.

“Dragon — seeing one’s most true self, balancing the ego — The Dragon sees everything. Its essence has been with us since before our first breath and will be there at our last. It watches us navigate the external world as well as our inner world. When Dragon energy is awakened, we are courageous, and visionary, and can easily drop into witness consciousness. It is almost as if we are traveling with a great friend inside ourselves. When we look in the mirror, deep into our eyes, we may even glimpse the “self” behind the “self,” the one who is watching us. This is the power of the Dragon breathing transformative fire into every cell of our bodies. Witnessing this omnipotent energy, even for a brief moment, helps us surrender and let go. We let the Dragon guide us. We hop on its back for a ride, and as we traverse even the most difficult terrain, the Dragon’s eyes see beauty everywhere. It is said that if a yogi does not see beauty in the world, their Agni is dim. Agni is described as “inner fire” or “sacred intelligence.” May even the mention of the Dragon stir the embers of intelligence within you.

The subtle energy of the Dragon lives at the navel center, in the Manipura chakra. Manipura translates to “the city of hidden gems” and behind its gates burns the fire of our transformation and digestion. The sages believe the health of the fire at the navel center is what governs our ability to clearly “see” both the inner and outer dimensions.”

AIR ALIGNMENT: GOLDEN EGG — SPIRIT

ASSOCIATED CHAKRA: HEART CHAKRA

Ugh! Again, it’s just so perfect. The Air Alignment shows a person’s conscious level thought process, focus, and manner of communication. Similar to, and possibly directly reflecting the Cobra, the Golden Egg represents the very conscious and physical level deliverance of that Sunburst. It connects over to self-illumination, illumination of others, ultimate self-expression, whatever was being shown there with Jimin and Jungkook showing their inner worlds, and through that, a surge of inspiration that appears to have the potential to ripple through the ARMY soul group, ARMY in general, and the mass collective. It’s all just sort of carefully contained inside the Golden Egg here, which is associated with the Heart Chakra. We have the Solar Plexus and the Heart lined up here, focusing on the center aspects, again showing the high level of integration.

Just to be sure this settles in how intense this is, I’ll include the description for this card as well. While reading it, imagine the Golden Egg in the place of Jungkook’s Heart, protectively held by the Cobra who is waiting for the Dragon to wake up.

“Golden Egg — message at the center of the heart, the unstruck sound — Within the Golden Egg lives a precious sound. Deep within that sound resides a message. The sound cannot be heard, nor the message discerned until we retreat from the noise of modern-day life. The magical essence of the Golden Egg needs warmth, quiet, and time to unfold. No rushing, pushing, or grasping. Find a place of deep and restful ease, perhaps through yoga nidra or meditation. If you do not yet have a meditation practice, take some time for introspection or contemplation. When the mind begins to settle and the breath is calm, ask the question that weighs heaviest on your heart… staying open to any response you hear. Engaging with the energy of the Golden Egg is an advanced practice. It requires becoming intimate with our very essence and comfortable with vulnerability. When a feeling of tenderness or gratitude arises from deep within you, know that you are well on your way. Your chest may swell, like you are seeing an old friend that’s been away for a long, long time. Listen to the message they’ve been waiting to tell you.

The subtle essence of the Golden Egg is nestled deep within the heart center at the fourth chakra. This chakra, called Anahata, is the home of the self or soul. By bringing the mind into this center, we discover a portal to the most intimate and luminous space. It is said our inner guide sits there in deep meditation, waiting for us. Anahata translates as “the unstruck sound.””

MAIN READING WITH SPRINKLE

Starting at the center with the core energy shown with the reversed Swan and Scorpion, there is “* POP UP *” followed by “the internet,” bringing a lot of focus to social media and the audience or fans in general. This continues on with “don’t look now,” and “it’s too cold to move.” This seems to be directly displaying what it is that the Scorpion is preparing to act against. I said earlier that it seemed like he could lay out very clear or specific boundaries, or lay down the law in some regard, and that is being directed at things online and in the fandom. There are a good handful of things here that this could relate to, but considering the significance of both Jimin and Taehyung in this reading, as well as the fact that Jungkook’s soul is like… right there in his conscious mind, it wouldn’t surprise me if he says something very directly about the toxicity that is directed at Jimin and projected onto himself and Taehyung. This would be for conscious level movement without fear or concern, as well as potentially allowing Taehyung’s soul to get a bit of wiggle room with that chord between himself and peoples’ toxic projections that are all over him.

Then, over the Zebra in the space of the Higher Self, there is a simple little note left there, which can be applied to everything I assume, but is certainly quite significant with the previous Sprinkles over the Scorpion. Here, he has “you need to hear this now,” and “respect yourself.” Plain and simple.

Moving over to the Turtle, there is “please don’t leave!” and two yellow Sprinkles that blend together, “plugged in,” and “exotic bird bingo.” Right away, this made me think of Jimin, specifically from Jimin’s Soul Mate Reading where he was referred to as a “rare bird,” and was described as having been singing and dancing playfully. Perhaps I don’t need to go too into detail on this, but there is a reference here to the links between Jimin and Jungkook’s inner worlds with Jungkook being “plugged in” to Jimin’s essence, his soul, which was being portrayed in that reading as The Eternal Child. There’s a feeling here of Jungkook’s soul calling out to Jimin’s, or at least the part that registers as The Eternal Child, the inner child, the most light and carefree, the bird-like part of Jimin’s soul and telling him not to leave, not to hide again.

This is making me think of the element of Flirtation with Jungkook’s sunlight shining down on the figure representing Jimin and that figure appearing more naked, more exposed, more vulnerable. The Ace of Cups holds some kind of idea or inspiration that Jungkook is hoping will shine a light on this aspect of Jimin and show him more to the world — Jimin seems to be hesitant about this.

With the Cobra there is “meant to ground,” and “it’s science,” which just feels so Cobra-coded. It’s so flat and centered, that really stable feeling of it literally being like, “I’m just here to hold things down, it’s as simple as science, it’s a simple process.” It feels so nonchalant and humble with the fact that it’s displaying one of the highest levels of integration and just shrugging it off like, “Just another day at work, no need to focus on me too much.”

Then, over with the Dragon, there is the “Full Moon,” followed by “spirits are resting,” “marks on the wall,” and “make things move.” I was seeing some pretty abstract stuff happening here where, with how these were laid out. I was seeing the Full Moon be reflected in the Spirit symbol at the top of the card, and then the eye of the Dragon glowing orange and gold, beginning to look like the Sun. It was taking me back to the Flirtation card and the connection between Jimin and Jungkook’s inner worlds. The “spirits are resting,” was then bouncing off of “please don’t leave!” which brought a lot of calming energy to the space suddenly, and this appeared to be demonstrating ONE OF THE ONLY separations in Jungkook’s layers of consciousness and that is around the fact that Jimin is SLIGHTLY involved in the incubation period and is reworking his position and energy center in the Soul Body.

It’s coming off as a part of Jungkook, a bit closer to the subconscious mind being aware of Jimin “going dark,” or suddenly not being as close by, potentially something where their inner worlds separated temporarily for the reworking. His conscious mind, his more external focus with the Earth Alignment’s Dragon is, obviously, right next to Jimin. He can see Jimin, but a subconscious element panicked a bit when the souls disconnected in order for Jimin to get into his new position with everyone else.

The “marks on the wall,” and “make things move,” felt like a back and forth between the spaces of the Dragon and the Turtle, or between Jungkook’s own higher conscious mind, his more intuitive mind, recognizing his higher subconscious, the space of his inner world being in a panic. He literally could have felt this as a sudden burst of anxiety that Jimin was gone, but in his head, he was like, “um, no, he’s literally right there,” — there are “marks on the wall,” there is evidence of his presence, he hasn’t gone anywhere. And the Turtle, that subconscious part or the part of his inner world, being like, “I don’t believe you! Can you speed this up? I’m not a fan of being alone here, especially now with all this wacky stuff going on.”

Lastly, over the Golden Egg, there is “moutains of sand,” which refers to aspects of time passing, as well as things being buried over time. Here, I was seeing an hourglass with a single grain of sand being added in for every one of Jungkook’s lifetimes that he has had as a human being, moving through every single aspect of his development, all the way up to his current lifetime. There’s this finality to it, like this is the last wave of this, the last big expansion, a full integration. This is followed up with, “skilled figures,” and “level up, gamer!”

It feels like he’s being congratulated with this, in addition to receiving an acknowledgment for the amount of work he has done. With this, it feels like the Golden Egg, the ability to illuminate himself and others, is not just an aspect of his job, it is a reward, along with all of the happiness and success that will come with him sharing more of himself and what he loves with the world.

That is all I have for this one, thanks for reading! :)

XXXX

Website Links!

The Elemental Alignment of Jeon Jungkook (Part 2) Post

More Celebrity/Idol Readings

The BMP Shop - 15% Off Sale for the BTS Countdown Event - use code " BTSCD15 " at checkout!

Celebrity/Idol Request Page

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jjk #namjoon #rm #yoongi #suga #jhope #hoseok #jimin #park jimin #seokjin #jin #taehyung #btsv #oracle reading #tarot reading #idol reading #bts reading

37 notes · View notes