#because they're still someone they care about despite the circumstances

[valvarads]

he missed my vitals…

@userdramas creator bingo: black & white + cool

[youneedsomeprompts]

~ CAN THIS BE FAMILY? ~ ANGSTY FOUND FAMILY PROMPTS

requested by: @20-crows-in-a-trenchcoat

Feel free to use and reblog!

being torn between opening up and shutting everyone out

needing help but being unable to ask for it

keeping things to themselves even though they know they shouldn't

falling back into old patterns

not being ready to trust anyone new

saying the opposite of what they're feeling

not feeling seen as they had hoped

only taking care of everyone else but not themselves

not wanting to be 'fixed'

being extremely grateful for their found family but feeling bad for not being able to show their gratitude

still having to sort their feelings out on their own because they can't stand to be seen in an emotional state

crying when someone shows them love

thinking they're too sensitive/too broken to be a part of the found family

holding back from truly being themselves

not knowing how to handle being accepted by someone for the first time

being stressed out about possibly doing something wrong because they're terrified to lose what they finally have

being unable to believe that the support in the found family is really unconditional

'Will they leave me? Will they leave me? Will they leave?' as the constant background noise in their head

being unable to tell the truth

not getting better despite the perfect circumstances in their new found family

[lovelyhan]

enemies to lovers prompt #10 "I'm not driving home with you..." with mingyu, thx <3

— vices & virtues ⟢

being from one of the most opulent families in the city, you're used to getting everything you want. but when you realize that your hot bodyguard is strictly off-limits, you treat him like anything else you can't have: with unbridled hostility.

★ FEATURING; bodyguard!mingyu x reader

★ WORD COUNT; 5.4k words

★ TAGS; enemies to lovers, unresolved sexual tension, smut

★ WARNINGS; alcohol consumption, cigarettes, implied/referenced drug use, self-destructive behavior in general, (probably inaccurate) discussions about drug poisoning, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; when i tell you i speedwrote this just in time for mingyu day,,, eugh i love you so much gyugyu and thank you to the anon who sent this in a while back!! this prompt was so tasty to work with!

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, couch sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, dacryphilia, size kink, mating press, overstimulation, creampie

★ SVT TAGLIST; @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @enhacolor - @ilyvern - @woo8hao - @spk93 - @tommolex - @stariightjoyy - @asjkdk - @horny4hoshi

★ MINGYU TAGLIST; @ @renjunphile - @acgyu - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pluviophile-xxx - @pretty-trustme - @zeenanigans - @noveniadelia

When the tiniest sliver of consciousness slips into your inebriated brain, you feel the cold tile of the bathroom floor being pried off your face. Well, more like you're being gently lifted off it, and into the arms of someone warm.

You nearly lean into their embrace until you catch a whiff of that familiar, musky cologne with hint of something like pine. It takes you some effort to keep yourself from bolting out of his grasp and retching your guts out in the toilet again.

You deign to squint your eyes despite the harsh fluorescent light razing your vision. Looking down on you is none other than Kim Mingyu, gaze as indifferent as ever. Unfortunately, you're too drunk or high to figure out how he even found you here, but you know there's no weaseling your way out when your father's little lapdog has tracked you down.

"What're you doing here?" you still ask even if you knew the answer.

It's my job to take care of you.

"It's my job to take care of you," he says the words in the same way you imagined him to—apathetic. Indecipherable.

"Fuck you. I don't need you to take care of me," you scoff. "My friends'll drop me off at my apartment like they always do."

Mingyu rolls his eyes. "You mean the same friends who called me because they're tired of having to clean up after your shit? I don't want to be here either, princess, but I'm actually getting paid to keep you in line, if you hadn't known that yet."

There's something so unfairly attractive in the snark in his tone, and you fucking hate him for it. Mostly, you hate yourself for even thinking that anything about Mingyu is remotely alluring.

In the end, you just tell yourself that you're an objective person. You have eyes, and it won't cost anything to admit that Mingyu is conventionally attractive. Even if you did hate his guts.

Not that he'll ever hear you admit that aloud, though.

You're vaguely aware of how the hem of your too-short dress rides up your thighs as Mingyu rises back to his full height—having no problems carrying you out of the bathroom bridal-style.

Under normal circumstances, you would've struggled. Proved that you could very much handle yourself despite being obviously hammered. But your head is spinning, and your limbs feel like they'll disintegrate any second.

Eyes closed, you press your face into the fine fabric of Mingyu's suit—breathing in the same scent that repulsed you not five minutes earlier in an attempt at anchoring your consciousness.

As Mingyu maneuvers you out of the bathroom, the loud bass blaring from the speakers at the frat party you've decided to attend last minute rings in your eardrums. You don't have to see your surroundings to know you've got onlookers. Those unsubtle comments are clue enough to know you're being watched.

Who is that? Her boyfriend?

No, idiot, that's probably her bodyguard or some shit. Her family's loaded as fuck.

So lucky. If I had a bodyguard like that, I'd totally let him smash.

The real question is: would he let you smash?

Fuck you.

You want to flash them the most disgusted look you could muster. As if you'd stoop low enough to fuck Mingyu, of all people. Don't they know who you are? You could easily let any man or woman you wanted on their knees for you.

You were supposed to stick to your regular routine of getting railed into the next day after a few drinks and sticks, but you obviously got a little too excited about the new strains your friends snuck into the party. Now you're being princess carried by a man you absolutely despise, too shit-faced to even be remotely desired by anyone else at the moment.

Still, never in a million years would you consider having this guy as a bodyguard lucky.

You can tell you're outside when the music starts to fade in the distance and the cold starts to prickle your legs and arms. A somewhat coherent part of you recalls leaving your designer jacket in the coatrack of the frat house, and if you weren't so fucking shit-faced, you would've yelled at Mingyu to go back and get it.

But just before you can consider asking him somewhat nicely, you hear him unlock a car that definitely doesn't sound like yours—making your ears perk up, and your consciousness flood back in much faster.

"What are you—?"

You thrash in Mingyu's arms until he lets you down on the ground—throwing him a stone-cold glare right after. The fact that your pedicured feet are in direct contact with the asphalt makes your rage spike further. How dare this asshole leave your Valentinos behind? He might as well have just left you at the party altogether!

"I'm not driving home with you," you growl.

Mingyu's expression doesn't even budge. "You're not driving. I am."

"Don't try to be fucking smart with me. I'm high, not stupid."

Folding your arms across your chest, you try to pretend that you're not in the middle of the street, arguing with Mingyu as your blood pressure rises to unimaginable heights.

Unfortunately for you, this isn't the first time your friends have left you in the quote-unquote capable hands of your bodyguard. But every time he did, he would always drive whatever car you chose to bring for the occasion and drop you off at your place.

When he brings a car of his own, however...

"You're bringing me straight to the old man," you grumble. "You think he'll appreciate seeing his daughter all wasted at three in the morning? You think he'll be happy with you when he finds out you let me sneak out like this? Are you stupid or do you actually want to get fired?"

"And who told you I was going to bring you to him?" Mingyu shakes his head, letting out a long-winded sigh. "Like I said, I don't want to be here either. The last thing I need is even more overtime after your father sets you straight."

That makes you pause, eyes widening with a hint of mistrust. Mingyu listens to every word his employer says. He's the perfect little lapdog. So perfect that sneaking out for these nightly escapades of yours have grown increasingly difficult with how good he is at finding you and bringing you home.

So hearing him practically say that he won't tattle on you...

"How can I be sure you're not fucking with me? That if I fall asleep in the car, I won't wake up in the courtyard of the old man's stupid mansion?"

"Do I look like I have the energy to deal with both of you at the same time?" he replies sharply, opening the door to the passenger seat with a hint of finality in his actions. "Just get in the fucking car so we can all head to bed before sunrise."

The sound of the house party still in full swing echoes in your ears from the distance. Your skin tingles a little beneath the heat of Mingyu's mildly pissed off gaze, and you let out a shuddering breath to keep yourself from giving the feeling a name.

"Fine."

...

Good news: you made it safely back to your apartment without anyone alerting your father about your true whereabouts.

Bad news: Mingyu just won't fucking leave.

He insisted that you get yourself refreshed with a shower first before he talks to you in the living room. The same guy that right-out said that you should hop in the passenger seat of his car so you'd both be asleep before the sun rises. The clock is already pushing past four in the morning, and Mingyu still insists on lecturing you before he leaves?

You of all people know how obstinate he can be. He's even more stubborn than you are, if you're being completely honest. So even if it wounds your pride to play along with what he has planned, you head back to your living room right after slipping on your usual nightgown—flashing Mingyu a look to remind him you're not at all pleased with whatever bullshit he wants to talk about.

However, your irritation ebbs a little when you see a plate of your favorite cookies sitting on the coffee table, along with a glass of water and a sheet of Advil.

Your gaze drifts from the snacks to your bodyguard, who looks more dressed down than usual. His coat is folded neatly, hanging off one side of your couch, and the first three buttons of his dress shirt are undone.

You gulp, prying your eyes off the sliver of chest he's willingly exposed before seating a respectable distance away.

"What did you want to talk about?" You try to sound casual as you leaned forward, reaching for a cookie and the glass of water without as much initiating eye contact.

"You smoked a few joints at the party, didn't you?"

You take a bite, washing it down with your drink before replying with, "So what if I did? A little kush isn't going to kill anybody, Mingyu."

"We both know 'a little' doesn't exist in your vocabulary, princess," he points out, crossing his arms with an unimpressed look. "Anyway, I'm not your father, so I typically don't care about what drugs you're taste testing every night—"

"Are you implying that you suddenly care now?"

"With a new poisonous marijuana strain circulating in the underground market? Of course I do."

You do a double take on that, staring at him hard as you begrudgingly swallow your cookie, "What? Underground market? And what do you mean poisonous?"

Mingyu lets out another sigh when he leans forward to reach for the box of cigarettes and a lighter you left strewn across your coffee table. You're even more surprised to see him lighting himself a stick and taking a drag than you were when he prepared some snacks and water for you.

"Some Columbian drug cartels thought it would be funny to infiltrate surface-level drug transactions. Long story short, they invented some fucked up strain laced with belladonna and smuggled it into the market under the impression that it's a new sativa strain."

You absolutely have no idea how Mingyu even got ahold of this information, but realizing the implication of his words has your stomach sinking with dread. If what he's saying is true, it's no wonder you were out so fucking quick tonight.

"I'm not gonna die within twenty four hours, right?" you half-joke because, Jesus, you're adventurous with your drugs, but you wouldn't willingly take something that can actually kill you.

To your relief, Mingyu shakes his head. "I don't know the science behind it either, but I was told sativa tones down the poisonous effect of belladonna by a huge margin. The worst you'll experience is a fever and a nasty cough if you don't do anything about it."

"Gee, way to be reassuring."

Mingyu scoffs before taking another drag of his cigarette. Your gaze is riveted on the cut of his jaw as he inhales the smoke with eyes closed. It's only when he flicks the ashes in a small ashtray you left by the small table beside the couch that you realize he's pushed the sleeves of his dress shirt to his elbows—exposing a good deal of his toned arms.

You immediately take a huge gulp of water, not wanting such unsavory thoughts about an unsavory person to surface now, of all times.

You might be more refreshed after your shower, but if you're starting to ogle Kim Mingyu, the strange joints you've been hitting all night might've messed with your head more than you thought.

"That's why we're going to the doctor tomorrow—"

You scowl. "Like hell I'm going to pay Doctor Yoon a visit. That guy's the biggest tattletale in the world. He'll definitely tell the old man. Oh, and I actually have classes tomorrow if you're forgetting, Mingyu."

"You're pretending to attend those now that it's convenient for you?" He smirks as he breathes out another puff of smoke. "Nice try, princess. But don't worry your pretty little head about it. I'll take you to another doctor I know—someone who won't get us both in trouble by telling your father that you've been smoking bad weed."

"Again, way to be fucking reassuring."

The silence finally settles as you nibble contemplatively on the snacks he brought for you. You're can say for sure that you're most certainly sober now, so Mingyu's words have got you thinking.

But it's a little difficult to think about the state of your health when you've got a sort-of uninvited guest manspreading right next to you on the couch.

"Aren't you going to leave?" you ask. "Just text me what time we're going to visit that doctor friend of yours."

"How would you feel if you got told to scram while you're in the middle of a smoke?" Mingyu flashes you an annoyed look. "For the third time, I don't even want to be here, princess. At least let me have this as compensation for saving your sorry ass."

He's so fucking infuriating.

The rough undercurrent in his voice. The perpetual upward curve of his lips as if he always has the upper hand. His beefy arms. His built chest.

...Not to mention his unexpected thoughtfulness when he decided to stick around and inform you about what you might've gotten yourself into instead of leaving you to fend for yourself. He even brought out your favorite cookies for good measure.

You never really know what to do with Kim fucking Mingyu. He stirs up all sorts of confusing feelings inside your chest at any given time, and frankly, you've had enough of it.

You allow yourself to relish in the pride that swells in your chest when he nearly drops his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray the moment you crawl on top of his lap.

Mingyu's mouth quivers with some sensible words his job description probably requires him to say, but you rob him of his ability to speak when you steal the cancer stick from his fingers. In one long breath, you smoke the cigarette down to the filter—killing it on your ashtray before leaning down to press your lips to his.

With how stunned he is, it doesn't take a lot of effort to pry Mingyu's mouth open, breathing the smoke into his mouth. Once you're satisfied, you pull away with a triumphant smirk.

"Now you're done," you say, making the motions to get off his lap. "I'm heading to bed. Don't wake me up before noon for that doctor's appointment or else I'm going to slash your ti—"

You don't even get to finish that sentence. Mingyu suddenly flips you over so that your back is pressed against the couch and he's lying on top of you—both knees planted on either side of your hips as he gazes at you with an ireful glare.

"W-What are you doing?" you whisper, but in spite of the protesting nature of your words, you can't help but feel a pang of white hot desire shoot straight through you when you feel just how big he is now that his body is pressed against yours.

"Teaching a bad girl a lesson," he whispers, grabbing your face roughly. "You can't just pull off shit like that and expect to walk away from it unscathed, princess."

Fuck. That nickname he always uses never fails to get on your nerves on any other day. But when he sounds like that and has you under him like this...

"What are you gonna do about it then?" you ask.

Mingyu chuckles darkly, as he squishes your face with his big, long fingers. You nearly shudder at the thought of what those digits could do to you if you just pushed the right buttons.

"You'll just have to fuck around and find out."

When the pressure of his strong grip leaves your cheeks, confusion paints your features. Mingyu's weight eases off your pliant body almost immediately as well, leaving you to scowl at him incredulously. He doesn't even look at you as he collects his coat from where it hangs off your couch.

But before he can even think about putting it back on, something not so different from a growl resonates deep in your chest as you sit back up—tugging on the collar of his shirt to smash your lips together.

Mingyu all but groans into the kiss, but you're not sure if you can even call it that. There's nothing but hunger fueling the both of you as your tongue slides alongside his, mapping out each other's mouths like your lives depended on it.

You vaguely hear his coat fall to the floor as Mingyu goes back to crowding you against the couch—one of his strong arms circling your waist as he grinds his hips against your middle. It's nearly embarrassing how willing you are to receive his advances.

You, the same person who told your bodyguard you refused to drive home with him, are now making out with said bodyguard at four in the morning.

But then again, who fucking cares?

"You have no idea," he whispers hoarsely against your lips and you let out a stifled moan when you feel the outline of his erection rut against your clothed pussy, "how much you drive me insane. You're such a fucking handful, you know that?"

"I'm glad to know I make your life miserable," you bite back despite the fact that, when Mingyu brings down the straps of your nightgown to expose your breasts to the cool air, you do nothing about it.

Mingyu lets out a harsh laugh. "You're probably into this, aren't you, princess? You like riling me up so much so that I'd snap and teach you a lesson?"

You want to tell him that he's being fucking full of himself if he thinks you've planned this that far back. But with how massive he feels through his trousers alone, you can't say that you don't want him inside you right this second.

It doesn't help that he's giving your chest a generous amount of attention—suckling at your nipples in a way that has you twitching beneath him with sensitivity.

"So what if I am?" you say, testing the limits of what he'll let you get away with. "You talk big about teaching me a lesson but you're being awfully careful with me. Aren't you going to shove your cock down my throat to get me to shut up?"

Mingyu chuckles with a quick shake of his head, like he isn't even taking your words seriously. You let out a sharp yelp when he bites down on one of your breasts—leaving a distinct imprint of his canines on your skin before staring into your eyes.

"I can choke you with my cock next time, princess. For now, I just want to make you come until you're crying for me."

Fuck.

Mingyu wastes no time. He immediately sinks to his knees on the floor, hauling your hips closer to the edge of the couch so that he can hook your thighs over his shoulders. When he realizes that you're not wearing any underwear underneath your flimsy satin nightgown, you swear the noise he makes is near animalistic.

"Don't get f-fucking cocky," you stammer, nerves alight everywhere his lips graze your inner thighs. "I don't usually wear underwear before going to sleep! This wasn't for you."

"It is now," Mingyu says before licking a long stripe from your leaking hole to your aching clit. He holds your thighs far apart as his lips latch onto that little bundle of nerves, alternating with delicious licks at your sensitive folds.

He practically smothers his face into your cunt as he continues his relentless assault on your clit. By the time Mingyu starts to tease his tongue along your entrance, your fingers have found their way into his unruly hair—moans falling from your lips with little concern about appearances.

Mingyu pulls away for a moment, and you nearly snap at him from that alone until he eases one of those thick fingers into your wet channel—dark eyes trained on you as he stretches you out with a hungry gaze.

You don't even feel any semblance of shame when you start to ride that single digit, wanting to feel him go deeper and spread you wider. Fortunately, your bodyguard is more attentive than you think, and it doesn't take long for him to ease another finger into your needy pussy, curling them just so once he's sure he's found that spot that'll render you an incoherent mess.

The sound he rips out of you is unholy and Mingyu growls again before his mouth finds its way back onto your cunt—getting lost in the taste of you on his tongue.

"Where's the fight you've been putting up against me all this time, princess?" he taunts just before those stupidly thick fingers graze that sensitive patch of flesh inside you again. "Are you that desperate? You've fucked yourself up so much tonight that you couldn't bring anyone back home. Your bodyguard's gonna have to do, huh?"

You know you should be affronted by how offensive his words are. Mingyu might be an expert at getting on your nerves, but with how good his fucking mouth feels as he laves at your cunt like a man starved, you can't even let yourself feel any modicum of annoyance.

"M-Mingyu," you gasp as he suckles on your clit again—steadily building your orgasm from the ground-up. "I'm gonna come, f-fuck!"

Three. Mingyu slides in three fingers at your admission, and you nearly cry with how wide he's stretching you out. This time, he switches from sucking at your clit to rapidly flicking his tongue against the sensitive pearl.

Your toes curl with oversensitivity, thighs nearly crushing his head as you frame the syllables of his name in another wanton moan. When Mingyu curls his fingers inside you one more time, the tension that's been building in your stomach snaps like a rubber band.

Once you teeter off the precarious edge of release, you feel a gush of slick surge out of your cunt and into his awaiting mouth. Mingyu laps it all up—his sinful tongue catching every drop of your tangy essence. If you didn't know better, you would think he's desperate for you as much as you are for him.

It takes a while for your mind to fully come back online after that first orgasm, chest heaving almost painfully with how Mingyu took your breath away with oral alone. When you finally have your wits about you, your bodyguard surges forward so that your faces are levelled, and you nearly groan when you see the way his mouth and chin glisten with your juices.

"So fucking delicious for me," he rasps. "Gonna let me have a taste of this pussy every time now, princess? Want my mouth on you before you sleep?

"Do whatever you want, Gyu," you mewl, tugging him closer as you position yourself horizontally on the couch. "N-Need you so bad."

He sighs, unbuttoning the rest of his dress shirt as he drinks in the sight of you all fucked out and compliant because of his mouth and fingers alone. Your lips are parted, eyes glistening with tears or desire—Mingyu can't say for sure just yet.

But if he can get you this wrecked from oral, he can't fucking wait to see what you'll look like after he gets you to cream on his cock.

His shirt falls to the floor and you can't contained the awed gasp that leaves you at the sight of him. He's built like a fucking sculpture—all lean muscle and hard toned abs. It would make sense for Mingyu to be this well-built, being your bodyguard and all, but the thought of having his body pressed against yours as he fucks you into the couch is sending your mind into overdrive.

"You're so adorable," he chuckles, but you know the words are anything but a compliment. "A moment ago you were challenging everything I said and did. Now you're suddenly an agreeable little thing. Are you that cock-hungry, princess? Want something to fill that pretty pussy?"

"Yes." You don't even hesitate. "Yes, yes, yes. Want your cock in me. Want you to fill me up, Gyu. Please..."

Fortunately for you, Mingyu isn't one to tease. The moment you've given him the green light to rearrange your insides, he steps out of his tight trousers and boxers at the same time, pumping his thick cock in one hand as he nudges your thighs apart once again.

You practically salivate at the thought that you're about to take all those delicious inches inside you. Mingyu doesn't miss the starry look on your face, but doesn't take the time to gloat about it. Instead, he leans all the way forward so that your thighs are squished against your chest—easing your legs across his shoulders in a position that's not so different from when he ate you out earlier.

"Gonna fuck the attitude out of you, princess," he promises before pressing a kiss on the corner of your mouth. "You ready for me?"

You nod a little too eagerly, forcing his face into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around his head. "Gyu, please..."

"Alright. Since you asked so nicely."

He doesn't even give any forewarning when he bottoms out inside you in one languid stroke. A choked up noise gets caught in your chest with how sudden he was, how full you feel in such a short amount of time, but Mingyu doesn't give you any time to think, or even to breathe.

Before you can even get a single word out, he's pulling his hips back—making you feel every inch of his thick cock before slamming his hips forward with a powerful thrust that drives you further into the sofa. You let out a long-winded moan, unable to do anything about it as he pounds into you with the vigor of someone who's been putting up with your shit for a better part of the year.

"Pussy's so fucking tight for me," he growls. "You're squeezing my cock so good, princess. Is this all I had to do so you'd stop driving me crazy? Eat you out a little and dick you down 'til you forget your name?"

You can't even process what he's saying right now—too lost in the sensation of his cockhead grazing your cervix with each forward stroke. He's reaching into you so deep that you might really just forget everything but the letters of Mingyu's name by the time he's done with you.

"M-Mingyu," you drawl dumbly as he peppers your neck with bites and bruises—unrelenting with his deep strokes as your cunt flutters around his length. "Fuck. L-Love your cock so much—oh!"

You let out a gasp that Mingyu quickly muffles with his own mouth as he adjusts your positions on the sofa—easing your legs off of his shoulders in exchange for spreading them wider on the cushions. How he manages to do that without his cock slipping out of you is a testament to your flexibility, and he's already cooking up what he'll do about that information for next time.

Mingyu continues kissing you all while he plants one foot on the couch and the other on the floor. When he tugs your hips even closer it's only then that you realize that the lunatic has you in a mating press.

"How long have you been thinking about me fucking you like this?" he whispers, deciding to drag it out with slow, deep thrusts that only serve to frustrate you. "You wouldn't have let me go this far if you hadn't thought about it at least once, princess."

I've wanted to fuck you since the old man introduced us, is the correct answer but you've still got some shred of dignity. If Mingyu wants the truth, he's going to have to work for it.

"Fuck me again after this, and I might give you an answer," you rasp, meeting his lazy thrusts with some of your own to get the point that you want him to ram into you across.

"There she is," Mingyu laughs. "My nasty, sharp-tongued princess. Thought I lost you for a sec."

"You will if you don't fuck me until I black out."

"Oh? All you had to do was ask, you know."

Then and there, Mingyu makes good of that interesting position he'd unknowingly lured you into—plunging that fat cock even deeper into your pussy if that's even possible. It felt heavenly, taking all of him while your legs dangled off his shoulders, but there's just something about having your legs spread impossibly wide as he drills into you with the full intention of making you come until you're crying that does it for you.

As each second passes, Mingyu's thrusts become more erratic—hips snapping with hard, calculated strokes so fucking good that tears are starting to glisten along the lines of your lashes like he promised.

You mewl his name like a string of prayers as the sound of your cunt squelching with every thrust rings in your ears. It's insane how close he's driven you to the edge in the span of thirty minutes, and you're starting to grow fearful of how addicting it feels to have him inside you like this.

At this point, you'd rather get off on Mingyu's cock than get high from some shady sativa joint. Something tells you he'd rather have that, too.

"Where do you want me, princess?" he whispers into your ear, reaching between your legs to give you just the right pressure you've been missing on your clit. You have to bite back a sob when he presses his thumb against it.

"Inside," you whimper as he continues plunging his engorged length into you. "Fill me with your cum, please, Gyu. I want it—want it so bad."

Mingyu hisses when you clench around his cock, large hands undoubtedly about to leave bruises on your thighs come morning. When you hear that deep, sexy laugh in your ear, you know it's all over for you.

"Come on my cock first, princess. Then I'll give you what you want."

He punctuates the words by drawing quick, tight circles on your clit all while keeping up the cadence of his thrusts. With the steady stream of stimulation he's so willing to give, it's a no-brainer for another orgasm to blindside you yet again.

You cry out with bliss as you screw your eyes shut—tears running down your cheeks in cascades as you fall apart on Mingyu's cock. He fucks into you despite the overstimulation, his own high not far behind because of the expression you're showing him.

"That's it," he rasps, leaning down to kiss the tears away. "Fucking cry for me, princess."

You're not sure if you're just too blissed out to comprehend it properly, but you're pretty sure that Mingyu just triggered another orgasm from you when you feel him twitch inside—your tight channel being covered in his white hot emission.

It doesn't help that your insatiable lover continues to fuck his cum deeper into your abused cunt, taking full advantage of this position while he can.

"M-Mingyu," you beg, fingers raking across his back as he punches the breath out of your lungs. "Too much. T-Too much."

You thought he wouldn't heed your words, but surprisingly, Mingyu halts every movement to gaze at you with a hint of concern lining his gaze. Wordlessly, he eases himself out of your sore cunt, wiping the tears off your eyes before pressing a kiss on your lips.

"Sorry," he murmurs before gently fixing the straps of your nightgown. He even tugs the hem down despite the fact that his cum is currently leaking out of you. "You want me to tuck you in?"

You nod, lacing your fingers around his neck, the overstimulated mess you are. Mingyu breathes out a quiet laugh before carrying you into his arms again.

"Alright, princess. Let's get you to bed."

You don't have the heart nor the energy to protest. Besides, it's his job to take care of you, after all.

⟢ end notes: reminder to not take any of the medical indications abt drugs that i included in this fic seriously. i made all of those up. oh and this should go w/o saying but don't fuck anyone while under the influence of anything AT ALL !!!

that aside, happy birthday to everyone's favorite puppy boy mingyu! i ended up loving him a lot more as i stanned svt, and i hope everyone else gives him the same love as well! god knows he has lots to give to both his members and his fans ueueue

++ if you spotted a few errors here and there, please don't tell me or i'll die of embarrassment ^_^ this wasn't proofread bcs i wanted to drop this exactly on his bday (i am 1 hour and 34 mins late!) HEHEHE i was sposed to write an ending scene in the morning where gyu wakes up and sees her wearing his shirt while making breakfast but that'll make this too long :| i'll just leave that to ur imagination!

[darkonekrisrewrite]

Sorry

I wrote and reblogged a lot of writing about the villains in bnha.

My first post was for the Lov.

But that's over now.

Bnha wasn't supposed to have a "realistic" ending.

Because that was never how the story presented itself in all these years.

The hopeful and successful hero story was what everyone came to expect.

The heroes don't fail in what they set out to do.

The heroes not only win but save the hearts AND LIVES of the people they want to help.

That was always what was set up to be the ending.

At least that was how it always looked.

I and many others gave every logical and narrative reason why Toga should still be alive and why Shigaraki's story shouldn't, couldn't be over yet.

But it seems like this really is the end.

We weren't wrong about anything that was reasoned out.

But still we wound up being wrong.

So, sorry I gave everyone who cared false hope.

Fans of Toga, shigaraki and the Lov.

Fans of bnha who cared about the things that (were supposed to) really matter in the story, like the core themes, messages and character arcs.

In the end, all bnha amounted to was confirmation of a standard shonen ship and a 'Then things got better' ending that didn't show anything really different at all.

That new Quirk Counseling program?

It didn't address anything that created the main villains.

It lasts for around a month, and wasn't shown to be helping any children with a really dangerous/inconvenient, "villainous" power or children with a bad home life.

Just an outstretched hand, bad taste jokes and cheerful vibes.

All that build up and the weakest, most inconsistent payoff to show for it.

And the worst part about it all is the effect that it's going to have IRL, in the real world.

That benign and self-righteous hero ideals are the answer to every social problem, even the most violent and oppressive kinds of injustice and abuse.

If you drop the ball on helping the people who are failed by the system, if they die, you can just try again with the next 'villains' that appear.

Even if the villains you currently failed to save were supposed to be the 'next time'.

That death can be a form of "saving" for anyone who's too much trouble to save.

That the best that anyone who saw parts of themselves reflected in Toga, Shigaraki and the rest of the league of villains...

The very most they can hope for is a 'hero' to miraculously appear in their life at the exact right time to help them somehow.

Or die.

Bonus, absolutely horrible, points in the implications of how Toga died and how it can relate to the average young fan.

An abused girl, LGBT+ and mental health allegories.

Her ideal ending according to bnha is to sacrifice herself -

KILL HERSELF

TAKING BLOOD LITERALLY OUT OF HER WRIST

- for the hero, someone implied to be of higher value than herself.

While also pushing that hero to be happy and move on despite her villain's tragic death, all with a smile on her face.

They're going to see all of this.

People who have suffered through similar circumstances to Toga and the Lov, the villain's endings is all that they will feel when they think about how it relates to them.

Tragic and left without any hope.

Only left with the sentiment of how their deaths will benefit others and make everything better.

No bright future.

No futures.

The most callus and heartless message to put out into the world.

Using a manga that's read by tens of millions of people worldwide.

This is wrong.

I thought Horikoshi cared about the people who the league of villain's struggles embodied.

And I thought he would give the villains an ending without death that would give hope to those people for living life.

I was so wrong.

But still, I thank everyone, especially mutuals, who always gave a red heart despite everything.

Goodbye.

[atxxzist]

the crown prince | c.s

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

pairing: choi san x f!reader

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

word count: 19k

(ao3) if you don't like lapslock

age 8:

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

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

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

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

age 10:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

age 11:

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

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

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

age 12:

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

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

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

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

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

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

age 13:

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

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

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

age 14:

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

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

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

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

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

age 15:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i heard you like sewing."

you nod shyly at her words.

"i learned it from my mother."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"ah, yes i am." you nod.

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

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

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

"i see." you smile tight-lipped.

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

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

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

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

age 16:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

age 17:

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

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

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

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

age 18:

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

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

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

age 19:

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

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

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

"y/n! wake up!"

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

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

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

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

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

"the king is dead."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he gestures to your shoes and you wear it quickly.

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

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

they all left you.

"where are we going?" you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you smile and nudge the boy with your elbow affectionately.

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

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

you take in the information, asking one last question.

"and where is hongjoong?"

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

"alright."

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

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

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

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

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

"easy for you to say."

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

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

but it's hongjoong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hongjoong just shrugs.

"that was his order."

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

"i'll go."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"then i'm going with you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you're not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

my castle?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"sorry," you both mutter.

"it's fine," the prince dismisses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"he'd be happy to."

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

"so how many men volunteered?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

jongho shrugs.

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"yes?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod hesitantly.

"good. then it's settled."

--

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

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

hongjoong promises to report back once things get relatively better.

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

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

"alright."

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

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

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

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

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

"call me san."

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

he shakes his head.

"i was practicing."

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

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

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

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

--

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

the prince looks just fine, though.

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

he nods, eyes roaming the small interior.

"it'll do."

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

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

you scowl and sit up from your seat.

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

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

"i really don't feel tired."

"then you should eat, at least."

"i'm not hungry."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"good morning."

"good morning, san."

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

"oh, okay."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod shyly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you giggle at the thought and shake your head.

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

"oh..." is all he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and suddenly, you only had yourself.

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

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

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

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

"i'm sorry to hear."

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"y-yes." you nod.

"have you ever tend to a wound before?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you're just worried.

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

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

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

you breathe out, eventually nodding timidly.

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

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

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

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

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

you squeeze your brows in disbelief.

"what--why?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he nods.

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

"but how would the message reach them?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"my pleasure."

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

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

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

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

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

you watch him get into stance.

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

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

"you try."

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

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

he tightens your grip on the dagger before stepping away.

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

he promised it'll be only an hour today.

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

"i mean it."

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

"but i believe in you."

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

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

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

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

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

"y/n!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"will he be okay?"

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

"just making sure..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you haven't seen him since that day.

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

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

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

"you doing better?"

you nod.

"a lot better compared to before."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

"your tea."

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

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

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

you scowl at the revelation.

"well, that's not right."

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

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

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

a smile cross your lips at the mention of san.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod at that. "go ahead."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"really?"

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

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

that something more came out of it.

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

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

"i'm listening," you acknowledge.

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

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

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

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

you shake your head.

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

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

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

you nod earnestly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

age 20:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i'd love to."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he nods, the dimpled smile never leaving his face.

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

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

you playfully land a slap to his shoulder, snickering.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he nods.

"i would love that."

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

--

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

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

you wish everyday was like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"that's okay with me."

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

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

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

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

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

"goodnight, prince."

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i won't."

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

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

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

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

age 23:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

members of the outlaws have dwindled over time and quieted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"y/n!"

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

"jongho!"

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

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

"you came," he simply says.

"of course i did."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he nods.

"and you? how are things down there?"

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

jongho hums in acknowledgement.

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

"and who the hell said that?"

"--i did."

the familiar voice that isn't jongho makes the both of you turn around, your stomach dropping and heart palpitating because you know all too well who it belongs to.

you can only stare breathless as he takes a step closer, your throat dry.

he's just as mesmerizing as you remember but like hongjoong, time have passed and he has gotten more bulky, manly, and handsome if that's even possible.

"i'm glad to see you can come," he mumbles, a charming smile on that render your knees weak.

jongho clears his throat, attempting to hide a smirk as he goes to excuse himself politely and walks back inside, leaving you stranded in the presence of san.

everything still feels the same with him.

"yeah. i got the letter," you reply, glancing around the empty area, "though it seems i might have gotten a tad excited."

he snickers, and oh... how you have missed the sound.

"you're the only one i gave a personal invitation to," he unveils.

"oh." your eyes swell, only to break the tension after. "then i guess i'm special."

"you are," he assures, closing the distance and taking one of your hand. "i have promised you that once utopia is stable enough, i will ask for your hand in marriage."

you watch as he goes to pull something out of the pocket of his suit, one of his knees pointed to the ground, his entire body falling with it.

"and now that i've finally reached that goal... y/n, will you marry me?"

it takes a moment for you to process everything, overwhelmed with joy and happiness before you can properly nod.

"yes. of course."

and he will marry you, after the rise to king and acceptance of his title as the ruler of utopia, keeping the promise just as he did to every others.

permanent taglist: @moonchele

a/n: not me talking shit abt wanting broken era to be over only to go & write a 19k oneshot. but i loved writing this & had a lot of fun bc it was v different from what i'd usually write

[mcjhay]

If Someone Wants You in Their Life, They'll Make Room for You

If someone truly wants you in their life, they'll make room for you—no excuses, no hesitation, no hesitation in finding space for you. It's not about the time they have or the things they think are more important. If they really care, they'll prioritize you and find a way to fit you into their world. People often say they're too busy, too tired, or too caught up in their own lives, but the truth is, we always make room for the things and people that matter most. When it comes to love, connection, and meaningful relationships, it's not about having the perfect circumstances, it's about choosing to create the time and space for each other.

We all lead busy lives, filled with obligations, responsibilities, and ambitions. But there's something beautiful and powerful about making space for someone in your heart and in your daily existence. It's not a matter of convenience-it's a matter of intention. When someone values you, when they see your worth, they'll naturally make the effort to integrate you into their life, to show you that you matter to them, not as an afterthought but as an essential part of their journey. They'll create time for your conversations, make plans to spend time together, and move things around to ensure they stay connected to you.

If they want you in their life, they'll make room even when the world feels busy and chaotic. They'll find ways to include you in their day-to-day, even if it means shifting some priorities, because they recognize your importance. Relationships, whether romantic, familial, or friendships, are not meant to be an afterthought or something that fits into a leftover gap in someone's life. True love, friendship, and connection are built on the foundation of mutual respect, effort, and a willingness to make space, even when life doesn't seem to slow down.

It's so easy to get caught up in the idea that we are just one part of someone's busy world, but the reality is, the right people will always make room for you. They'll carve out moments in their day to check in, to see how you're doing, to show that you matter to them. They'll adjust their schedules to accommodate you because they understand that relationships are about sharing time, experiences, and a willingness to be there for each other, even when it's inconvenient.

It's important to remember that love is not something you should have to chase. If someone truly cares about you, they will find a way to make space for you, to keep you in their life despite everything else that may be going on. When someone truly wants to be with you, it's not just about words, but about actions. They will make time for you without question, because you won't be an inconvenience; you'll be a priority.

This doesn't mean that they'll always be perfect or that there won't be times when life pulls them in different directions. But even in those times, if someone truly values you, they'll let you know you're still important, they'll keep the lines of communication open, and they'll make sure to show you in their actions that they're committed to you.

They'll make room for you, and not just when it's easy, but when it matters most. You shouldn't have to fight for a place in someone's life. If they want you there, they'll make room for you without hesitation. Your presence won't feel like a burden or something to be squeezed in only when it's convenient. Instead, it will feel like a natural part of their world, something they cherish and protect.

So, remember: if they truly want you in their life, they'll make room for you. They'll show you through their actions, their effort, and their dedication that you are not just another obligation but someone they genuinely care for and are willing to make space for. The right people will never make you feel like you're an option—they'll show you that you are a priority. And when you find that, you'll know that you're with someone who truly values you.

Single soul❤️

[smalltownrobin]

I'm actually so tired of these surface level readings and interpretations of Vickie.

I'm not about to argue Vickie has been developed well so far, okay? We barely saw her, and we still haven't been told much explicitly about her, and I hate that, I wish they payed more attention to her since she's their only canonically bi character (so far) and she's going to be partnered with one of the main cast, not to mention she's half of their only sapphic relationship. It SUCKS.

HOWEVER.

Calling her just a carbon copy and saying Robin "deserves" a better romantic plot is ridiculous??

How can she deserve a better romantic storyline when we haven't even seen all of it yet? We are at the beginning of their plot, we know there's more to come and we can be pretty certain they're going to progress into a proper relationship, or at least admit feelings for each other. I wish we saw more of them in s4, but we can mostly gather where they're going with the next season based on circumstance and how the characters have interacted with each other so far. That kind of Joyce/Bob dynamic of one of them not knowing anything about the upside down I think is such a sweet concept for Robin? It could bring out new sides of her if she's the one guiding Vickie through all of it, or even trying to keep her away from it. Obviously if you don't like that you don't have to, but saying she should have something "better" really sounds like you've not even thought about it.

Then saying she deserves better because Vickie is just a carbon copy of her is actually so silly to me, she deserves better than someone who understands the way her brain works and can relate to her? Robin's friends love her and care about her, but ultimately they don't know how to handle her sometimes. Vickie sharing one trait with her that will make both of them feel seen and understood is not lazy or boring, it's normal and even beneficial for partners to share traits like that.

The "carbon copy" thing really needs to stop because you sound five years old I'm sorry. They both ramble and they're both in band. Yet they dress totally differently, have different taste in movies (or are we all forgetting Robin likes classic black and white movies while Vickie watches raunchy movies about teenage sex), even speak and act differently despite sharing the rambling thing.

Most of Vickie's character is in the subtext (which I hope will be expanded on s5), but from what we've seen of her she does have some traits that don't seem to be in Robin's character (some things Robin does or the way she acts being a direct result of upside down monster hunting capers, whereas Vickie just does it on her own). To me they're pretty distinct from each other while sharing some essential traits they can connect on.

If that's just not what you like, that's okay! Ship what you want to ship, like who you want to like, but just put a bit more thought into it if you're going to tell people why you hate rovickie for the millionth time. It's okay to have a preference, but don't speak as if you're making a profound point about sapphic representation when you yourself aren't looking that much into it.

[separatist-apologist]

Separatist-apologist lore beneath the cut

I dropped out of college when I was 19 and when I decided to go back, I had two kids. I was undeclared and I felt old despite still being in my 20s. I had a scholarship which required me to do daytime classes with all of the brand new 18 year olds and I felt wildly out of place. Before that, I'd been staying at home raising my kids while their dad worked and a lot of people thought wanting to return to the workforce was a mistake, so there was this immense pressure to succeed where I'd once failed.

The problem was not knowing what I wanted to do. All I really cared about was history and domestic violence and as far as I knew, there was no good career path that combined those things, and so I signed up for four random classes that had nothing to do with each other. One of them was called Serial Killers in America which was taught by a former police officer. Another was introduction to psychology, taught by a social worker.

I was sitting in the Serial Killer class one morning, way in the back where no one paid me any attention, when the professor (former cop, remember) began telling a story about being called to a house for domestic violence and I remember looking up at her as she said that too often, these things are a "he said, she said," and they're usually both lying.

And it just ignited something angry in my stomach. I was looking for an advisor since I'd been undeclared and I turned that day to the psych professor and asked if she'd fill out my form to be my advisor. As she was, I told her what the other professor said and how much it bothered me and she asked me what I wanted to do. So I told her, and she asked if I'd ever considered social work.

So began six years of perfectionism and the single-minded goal of getting my masters degree and working in the field as a licensed social worker. I remember my first day in orientation at grad school, someone asked if anyone knew where they wanted to be in 5 years. I was the only person who raised their hand. I knew where I wanted to be.

And for the last three years, I got to live that dream. The good, the bad, the horrible- all of it was mine. And today I pack up this office I've worked in for the last three years because its all over. The work was always good and I'm proud of what I've done. I've published papers, I've sat in state-wide commissions, I've talked to legislators, I've presented at conferences and I've trained a new generation of advocates who feel the same passion I do.

It's no secret that people who work in this field are typically survivors themselves. Something about surviving it turns people into advocates, whether they meant to be or not. And often they manage to make it out of the metaphorical burning building, turn around, and decide they need to go back inside to try and get others. The amount of people I've talked to who say, "I want other people to know they're not alone and they can get through this," is numerous. It makes you optimistic, it makes it impossible to ignore the good in humanity even when you're faced with some of the worst people/circumstances you'll ever encounter.

And despite all the petty office politics, a system designed (sometimes purposefully) to make leaving difficult, and state legislators who push back every inch of progress we ever made, I will miss it. The work was always good. I'm proud of the things I did individually for folks, of the amount of times I got to tell someone they did nothing wrong, that they deserved safety and respect.

These three years have been the best and worst of my life, but the work was always good. I will always be in it, will always be standing beside the ghost of my childhood self, offering her a hand and a voice and I think if I accomplished nothing else, at least I did that.

[wysteriaisapenguin]

Sometimes I think about the Voice and Vessel ships that aren't their respective pairs. So I'm gonna ramble about the ones I really like

Hero and Thorn: I like to think that out of all the vessels, Hero would resonate with Thorn the most. Both of them start off as soft individuals who end up hurting each other after things go south and becoming hostile and cautious. But they eventually reach a point where they are so tired of all the pain and mistrust. Even so, they still want to believe they can make things right and leave together peacefully. Hero always believed in doing the right thing. His compassion is enough to let Thorn know that he truly wants to help her and she can trust him. She's scared of being hurt again and so is he. Now that they understand each other and the pain they've been through, they want to reassure each other that things will be ok between them now. And that's just very sweet to me.

Wraith and Opportunist OR Wraith and Cheated: Ok I might be cheating here since I choose two different voices to pair with Wraith. But I like them both for different reasons! The dynamic between Wraith and Opportunist is just so hilarious (Scary villainess and her loyal bumbling henchman LOL). I love how he tries to butter up to her and she isn't having it at first, but then she starts finding him amusing. And if you let her out, she's genuinely endeared by his support. It's a funny interaction and probably the one nice thing Oppy has ever done for a princess. It also makes sense too since they both have abandonment issues and will do anything it takes to not be hurt again, even if it means they have to hurt others. As for Wraith and Cheated, both are pissed off by the unfair circumstances that they are each placed in (Wraith being cruelly slain as a trapped prisoner and Cheated taking on the role as a slayer with a terrible reward). They take out their anger on each other because they both think that the other made things worse for them. But even so, I like to think this shared feeling might offer both of them to connect somehow. Even if these two aren't willing to empathize with each other, they both know that whatever game they're playing in is "rigged against them". So perhaps, if they were to put their hatred aside and work together, they can both fight for the freedom they've been longing for so long. It may never happen, but ideally it would be an endearing dynamic.

[The next few ships include Pristine Cut Spoilers]

Paranoid and Happily Ever After: We know that Paranoid is usually afraid of the princess, always expecting the worst possible thing she could do to her. But what happens when she meets a princess who just wants to make her happy and is clearly miserable because of it? Despite her initial caution, Paranoid realizes that HEA is just as trapped as she is and urges her to be honest so that the both of them can be free. Sure enough, that urge is what encourages HEA to finally speak up for herself. Perhaps she knows how anxious Paranoid is but still wants her to feel comfortable around her. So she tries to build trust with the voice by being patient and caring towards her. Thanks to this, Paranoid slowly feels less afraid of HEA. Both of these fragile souls know how much it hurts to have their will and freedom taken away, but they can seek comfort in each other now that they are finally free.

Cold and Fury: I really love how out of all the vessels, Cold is clearly amused by Fury (if you get him from Adversary). As a voice who claims to "feel nothing", it would be expected for him to be drawn to someone filled with raw emotion. (WHO'S READY FOR BURNED BRIDGES 2.0 BABYYYYYYYYYY) But then it turns out that he shares something in common with her. Both of them are desperate to feel something, anything. And for Fury in particular, she wants to feel the spark she once had so bad but can't anymore. Once she's taken out all of her anger, once she's done with her agonizing torment, she's left in a sad, lost, and empty state. But Cold is still there. Despite everything, he was able to withstand all the pain. And he too wants to feel something; he just didn't want to do the same thing over and over with Fury. Even if they have both have grown numb to their own feelings, they can still build something together. It's not too late for either of them.

Skeptic and Eye of the Needle: So this is mostly based on the updated ending for EOTN when you free her with Skeptic. Once she's finally out, she is left in a state of confusion. Violence is the only thing she ever cared about and everything outside of that is so new to her. She feels so lost and scared, as if she had long forgotten something important. And that's when Skeptic comes in. He'd be the best one to help her come to terms with her identity crisis. He also knows what it's like to feel lost with so many unanswered questions and he's sure EOTN has a lot of them. So he's willing to guide her towards the answers she is looking for, no violence required. And EOTN would be grateful for this...although this probably won't stop her from wanting to fight him too. (She'd still think he’s a weakling who needs to toughen up and be her equal.) The spark she once had isn't lost yet; she just needs a different approach.

[blairdii]

one of my fav things about nortrell is showing up.

i don’t have time to go into a full psycho analysis right now, but here’s a mini version.

as a kid, parents showing up have greatly impacted us on the way we grew up. i mean, i used to give clear instructions to my mom about where to sit for the best view of me, and now i do that in college events with my friends.

max has been with lando practically their whole lives. from karting together to growing up and lando in f1. during karting, max showed up by actually being there and participating. now, showing up is sitting and watching every race, no matter what time it is, or sometimes travelling to places to see it in person.

parents, friends showing up makes us feel like at the end of the day, we have somewhere to go, someone to look forward to, someone to share with what you’ve just done.

lando’s parents and max are specifically that for that. like, how poetic is it that lando’s other friends, aarava and a few more were there to see him win miami, and then zandvoort, his parents got to see him win, and then singapore, where max got to see him win.

they showed up.

it’s a comfort of its own, and despite being 25, i feel lando really needs that. he needs that comfort of knowing that someone’s showed up specifically for him, to cheer for him, to com for him, to just be with him.

max has watched and streamed every race, even saying that he knows what goes on behind the scenes in mclaren because lando tells him. while it’s not much, it’s still showing up from where you can. and i think that’s why lando and max have such a close, healthy relationship.

max understands what lando needs, and he gives it without hesitation. lando understands what max needs, and gives it without hesitation.

like, take for instance, lando telling max to move in with him because max was not well mentally during that time. lando being there as much as he could, getting max out of the house, spending time, making him laugh, all those sorts of things, because he knew what max needed at that time. he showed up.

nortrell have a love language of showing up. that’s a highly underrated one, because the feeling of seeing someone you love show up for you because they love you is the best.

apparently, i did have time to write a semi psychoanalysis on this

-wyr anon

YES YES YES!!!

when i was first getting into f1, i indulged more in quadrant first: watched a few videos, a couple of max's and lando's streams (live and recorded [lando's were mainly the latter unfortunately 🥲]) and the thing that stood out to me was how max was always there. despite no longer being a driver, after being so committed to motorsport for so long, he was still able to supprt lando through quadrant, show up at races, stream him watching races live every weekend; and then i found out that max was offered to live with lando just so max could have someone, and i love that most about nortrell.

they always want to be there, no matter how the circumstances, no matter were they are. they reminded me and my friends and i, all of us had our own problems and challenges, but we never skipped on showing up. it doesn't matter the time in which we message, just needing comfort, we always make sure to be there as soon as we can.

max and lando are just the same person, different fonts. they get each other like crazy, it's beautifully obvious how much they care about each other; they're just ARGHH 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

showing up is definitely one thing lando needs. especially now when it seems like it's him against the whole world, those around him being there just grounds him (as stated in your ask; his parents being there for his zandvoort win made everything so much better. there was even a pic they took together at belgium (i think??) and he really looked like that mischievous, shy kid again 🥲). those close to him being there really reminds him that, yes he's lando norris, a driver for mclaren in f1, but he's also just lando, someone's son, someone's best friend, who just happens to be living that dream of making it big. and they'll level his head a bit, simmer down that anxiety and remind him that he loves racing. and he should enjoy it.

all in all, wyr anon you summed this up perfectly and way more articulated than i did, and i love nortrell with everything in me. i can't be more glad at how lando has someone like max, and his other friends too. he deserves the best!!

[jubilost]

the thing that sold me on pillars of eternity was eorn. i tried to play the game three or four times before reaching him. i found the combat unfun and the premise generic, so i didn't touch it for years. i thought i knew what the game was offering: swords and sorcery and binary good vs. evil heroism by the guys who wrote some of the best fallout games. i assumed orlans and aumaua were merely a take on goblins and orcs respectively.

then i met eorn. and he talked about oppression as it actually functions. and i realized this game was so much more than i thought.

orlans don't fall in to the usual trappings of othered groups in fantasy stories, they aren't touched by an evil god or cast-offs from an alien realm or mindless agents of chaos. they're people. they want what everyone else wants, fulfilling lives and warm homes and good company. beyond being visually distinct from the majority races(elves and humans) there's nothing that makes them truly different. but this, coupled with being smaller than everyone else, has left orlans easy targets for social othering and physical abuse.

eorn was happy, he had a good job, he had friends. then a person in a position of power took offense to the idea of someone he saw as lesser disagreeing with him. eorn was terrified he'd be killed to reinforce the social hierarchy. trying to act in self defense lead to his attacker dying, and when we meet him, he's hiding from an arrest warrant. he knows he won't get a fair trial and just wants to leave the city for good. he can't have his life back, an insecure bigot destroyed it on a whim.

other members of the same group, the crucible knights, refer to orlans as animals and "creatures". the narrative itself never entertains this idea. orlans are never presented as uniquely animalistic. hiravias spiritshifts. he's also trilingual, introspective, witty, compassionate- and he threatens to gore anyone who even implies orlans aren't quite people, but this is never condemned by the game or most characters.

his passionate defense of both his personhood and the personhood of others is occasionally painted as comedic but never totally unjustified or immoral. orlans are written like anyone else, with the caveat that all of them are aware of your privilege and their lack of it because that's a pressure they've felt their entire lives. hiravias immediately pulls away and capitulates if you choose certain dialogue upon meeting him, ailef and eorn beg you to simply let them live because most don't care if they die, kurren won't talk back if you snap at him despite being visibly hurt.

i definitely think this was the right call. showing orlans as people makes those who call them lesser seem fittingly close-minded and irrational. so many stories try to "show both sides" of social conflict. to say, yes, it's bad to ostracize and abuse a group of people, but here's where the rumors started, here's an exception to that rule, here's a way to make the player feel less evil for choosing to reinforce the social hierarchy if they just don't like the look of orlans.

by not doing that, the narrative itself sympathizes with the plight of the oppressed(such as they exist within pillars of eternity's universe). it still takes the time to explore grounded situations but without humoring the idea that oppressed people are somehow responsible for the circumstances they were born into or that they're on equal footing with their oppressors. it shows us what life is like under oppression without initially letting the ruling class speak, telling us to observe how people suffer to survive before showing us what rewards the oppressors reap, which in turn makes it even easier to empathize with the oppressed. it's such a refreshing change from, well, the vast majority of genre fiction.

(i don't want to be a coward and hide this in the tags so i'll add that i'm white and that most orlans, eorn in particular as a window into police violence through a fantasy lens, are racially coded. it's not my place to say whether that coding is appropriate or handled well overall. i just wanted to praise certain elements of their presentation, please let me know if i spoke out of turn.)

[otomes-and-tears]

*grip you by the shoulder* I need your analysis of the relationship between vesper and Keir-

Pretty please 💗

! CHAPTER TWO SPOILERS !

I think the most interesting aspect of Keir and Vesper's relationship is how, despite the circumstances that brought them together, Keir treats Vesper with a surprising level of respect and openness. It’s not something you’d expect in a dynamic like theirs, especially in a setting like the marketplace, where trusting someone—anyone—can be a massive liability.

Vesper is a big liability, after all. Even if they're being blackmailed, even if the reason Keir picks them is because they're disposable, but show promise, it's still a risky decision that doesn't only put his life at risk, but potentially the people in the mouse hole, which he deeply cares about! But the still puts some level of trust in them. Vesper's followed, sure, but he feeds and houses them. He indulges them in banter, lets them poke fun at him even if he complains about how annoying it all is, And most importantly, he answers their questions.

In a place where no one shows their real face, where people don’t even share their real names, information is currency. It’s survival. But he lets Vesper in, just a little. He tells them about himself, about life underground, and makes sure they know enough to stay safe. Even when he withholds things, like the origins of the Ichor, it’s a difficult choice made for a reason.

I think that has a lot to do with, not only his feelings for Vesper, but the community he's surrounded by and how much those values have shaped him. Both his pursuit of doing good or at the very least as good as he can to help as many people as possible and his inherent kindness. As much as Keir insists he isn't a good man, I think it's really fucking clear that he has a strong moral compass, and most of all, a strong will to keep vulnerable, outcasts safe. He goes above and beyond for that goal, and all his actions are informed by that desire to take care of his community.

Vesper is now a part of his community, for better or for worse, and therefore he extends to them the same level of care and respect he'd show to the others. I think one of the things that really struck me was how we get to see the people in the mouse hole, and most importantly, Keir's inner circle, warming up to Vesper! They include them in their day-to-day chores and welcome them relatively quickly. They're all keeping an eye out for the ichor they oh so desperately need, because in a lot of ways, Vesper is just like them. Another outcast, another person in desperate need of that support and community. I like to think that maybe Keir saw that in them too.

They might not fully realise the weight of it, seeing as how the marketplace's culture differs from the surface's, but Keir is painfully aware of all of this all along.

I think especially of the scene where Vesper opens up about their condition. It's a pivotal moment. In a place like the marketplace, that kind of information falling into the wrong hands could be downright catastrophic. But it's easy for them to open up about it, to show Keir that level of trust. This information exposes their fragility, their desperation. And most of all, they're exposing it to their blackmailer. It would be so easy for Keir to turn this show of trust against them, it's easy ammo. But he doesn't. He listens, he empathises.

I think that's the point where things really shift for them. It's a little moment but I think it's so important to shape how their subsequent relationship, and most of all, I think it's what makes his betrayal by keeping the truth about lunar ichor even more painful to Vesper.

[gearbox-doll]

Thinking about how Killua and Gon are just like,, so dependent on being together. Like I know this is a Known Thing but I'm so excited to see the two of them again and see the effects because it's literally so strong.

It starts of course with Killua's need for approval. Initially, he gets this from primarily Illumi (and sometimes his dad). Illumi uses this to his advantage because he knows how much his opinion matters to Killua. Killua believes what Illumi says about him, thrives on Illumi's praise, and falls when Illumi criticizes him.

Then, when he leaves the Zoldyck Estate, he's all of a sudden without that. He thinks he's free from his family, for once, but at the end of the exam it becomes clear that his image of himself is still very tied to Illumi's opinions - he isn't as free as he thought he was. He also hasn't fully started taking Gon's compliments seriously - he laughs them off and acts cocky, full of himself.

But when Gon comes and saves him from the Zoldyck Estate, that changes. Now he realizes that Gon, despite their short time knowing each other, means what he says about Killua. And that changes things, because now Killua doesn't need to depend on Illumi for the praise and approval he craves, which is a large part of what sends him back home in the first place. Now he's got a new source of that kind of affection, a best friend who never stops telling him how amazing he is, who is everything that Killua wants to be. Gon is kind, and gentle, and warm; the kind of person people feel grateful to know. So hearing compliments and praise and approval from Gon, while embarrassing, fuels Killua. Because here is the exact type of person he wants to be, saying that he's the cool one, the one Gon is lucky to have met. He thrives on it.

Although the train scene isn't technically canon, I think it's a very good example of this. Killua believes he has betrayed Gon, and despite being relatively mentally stable by all evidence before this, immediately becomes actively suicidal. Gon saves him, reassures him that he did nothing wrong, and he's okay again. ("Killua's not a killer, he's my best friend!" also fits in here somewhere. It so perfectly encapsulates the way Killua wants to view himself. Not a killer, someone's friend. Gon gives Killua the assurance he needs to be who he wants to be, that he can be someone good and friendly.)

But it's more than that, too. Gon pulls Killua out of the darkness and onto the right path, shows him the way to be a good person. But Killua is the one that keeps Gon from stepping off the path and falling into the darkness himself.

Gon needs Killua. He's not dependent on Killua's approval, but he cares about Killua, and that keeps him sane. Despite Gon's apathy towards violence and his overwhelming anger, he listens to Killua, most of the time. Killua is able to talk him down, to calm him, to reign in the anger and dispel it without hurting others. Killua keeps Gon from wandering. He acts as the moral compass for both of them, taking the things Gon does for fun and doing them because he believes they're right. In doing so, in a way, he leads by example, and Gon follows behind, because it's fun and it's what Killua wants to do. And as long as there's nothing else getting in the way, Gon is perfectly happy to do the things that make Killua happy. Thus, Killua keeps him in line.

When it comes to the fight with Pitou, Killua does fail to keep Gon's anger in check - but that's in extenuating circumstances. In every other scenario in that arc where Killua was there when Gon started getting angry, he was able to redirect Gon's anger. (See the scene with Morel.) By and large, Killua keeps Gon from going too far, and when he does, Killua works to help him. Gon needs Killua not because he needs Killua's approval, but because he would lose himself without someone to keep him in check. We've seen how far he's willing to go, and Killua is the thing stopping him from doing that.

TL;DR Killua is emotionally dependent on Gon and would be depressed and lost without him, while Gon is physically/morally dependent on Killua and would likely become self-destructive and harmful physically to the people around him without Killua. I want to see how they're doing while separated because I wanna see how they're coping.

@rabbitbites @teddy-blegh @queraa bc I'm insane about these two boys

[darkonekrisrewrite]

Whenever I see someone go "oh the League's actions can't be justified" or "their pasts don't justify their actions" or even "they're just evil"

I think two things

One

They're fiction, and are a lot more sympathetic than a lot of real people who face no consequences

Two

What the fuck were they supposed to do? Seriously what?

Your thoughts

Anyone who says things like that, likely hasn't had to (actually) fight for anything in their lives.

Saying that "the Lov's actions can't be justified" or that "their pasts don't justify their actions", can only be saying that from a place of assumed moral superiority and general comfort.

People who think like that in such rigid, self-righteous mental stances are usually-

A. The first to go back on their beliefs when things get tough.

B. The first to lose everything they have because they refuse to compromise on what they believe is right.

Because it is the truth, that the Lov didn't have any other options but to fight as hard as they could for their right to live.

They didn't get to choose how they were born or the course their lives took as children, so they could only try to cut out an existence from the hand they were dealt.

To destroy hero society, to even have a chance at a better life than being left to die (shigaraki and Dabi) and/or chased away to die (Toga and Spinner).

It's something very important to remember that while completely "destroying everything" isn't the right answer to what the Lov was looking for -

- Doing the "right thing" in their circumstances wasn't going to get them anything but suffering and death, all because of people (the bnha civilians and a number of heroes) who couldn't care less about them.

Anything good that happened in bnha's future (wether it's really true/makes sense or not), is thanks to the Lov's existence, at least 50% or more.

The Lov was never "evil", they were mostly right.

Also it's kind of hilarious that shonen fans say this stuff sometimes, they have to be either younger or just getting into manga/anime in general.

Because:

Orochimaru is chilling with the leaf village parents.

Frieza is teaming up with Goku to save the universe and getting back to conquering worlds.

Mayuri from bleach... enough said.

Patolli (the fake Licht) the elf from black clover, for a more modern example of a sympathetic shonen villain doing terrible things and still living despite that.

Villains who have done far worse and still got better endings.

[hestzhyen]

Chapter 59 Pain Posting

Here we go, dear void. What fresh hell awaits our MC this week? We are back to setting up for the next big story moment, for one, so there's lots to speculate over before waiting to see how it all plays out. Oh, and suffering of course. There's plenty of that for almost everyone.

Bad TL of editor's notes and the colour page (second editor's note could technically be spoilers I guess):

First page: 慘状を前に… [sanjou wo maeni...] "Standing in front of a terrible scene..."] Last page: 死んだハズ… だが…?! [shinda hazu... daga...?!] "Supposedly dead... and yet...?!"

Colour Page Text (removed in EN version): 見据える過酷な旅路 [misueru kakoku na tabiji; "Sights fixed on the difficult journey ahead"]

Not much to say about the colour page except I like how moody it is (and big Makizumi guy is pretty cute with his pose). Guess I was wrong as usual about the Makizumi following Samura. Would be cool if they acted like personal bodyguards to Chihiro! They're the only ones who can really fight against Samura right now due to being presence-less ninjas after all. That's a really interesting conflict for them too- they clearly care for him a lot as the only person who treated them as actual people, and he definitely cares for them in return. His desire to save them during the Hishaku raid wasn't an act in the slightest! But more on that later.

Samura vs. Chihiro: Round 1

Stressed-out scribble-eye Chihiro returns... someone give him a hug.

Glad I didn't try to predict shit because I would have been totally flabbergasted by how this went. Way to make a (technical) liar out of me by saying Chihiro can't die since he's the MC, Hokazono-sensei.

Watching Chihiro break down in real time was so hard, man. This poor guy got his shit rocked by John yesterday at the Rakuzaichi, watched Tenri die a pointless death for the same reasons he's on his own journey, witnessed the horror of his dad's Civilian Murderton 3000 at 1% capacity, and now Samura, one of his heroes, betrayed them all with his dad's legacy. He even got one-tapped when he finally lost his cool for real.

Chihiro seriously can't handle all of this and it's so heartbreaking to see. This guy was not built for a bloody revenge mission at all. Now that he died, though... seriously, what's going to happen next?! Do we switch PoV to a different character while Chihiro's dealing with whatever's happening to him in what looks like a hospital morgue?

There are also some questions about the circumstances of his death and apparent revival- did he really die, or was that Kamunabi misinformation for/from the Hishaku mole? If he did, then how did he come back? And how does that affect his contract with Enten? There's absolutely nothing to go on right now so it's time to hunker down and not go crazy waiting for answers.

Apropos of nothing: I wonder if that wound that Samura gave him will scar. If so, it would mirror the one Uruha had on his shoulder:

RIP I'm still not over you, Uruha.

Probably just a nit-picky detail thing that won't amount to anything, but I wanted to post Uruha from when he was still alive so there you go. I'd be very surprised if Uruha came back somehow even though Chihiro apparently may have escaped death... It seems super-duper extra final that he's toast thanks to the duel he had with his master before getting done in. May you please reappear in flashbacks from time to time so I can get sad that you're no longer with us all over again.

One last thing before we move on to the Hishaku at Disused Building Full of Trash HQ:

SHIBAAAAAA SAVE YOUR NEPHEW AND HIS (BOY)FRIEND

Shiba showing up was in "delusions" territory for me but I'm so glad he's here!

Of course he's getting called out (kind of) for not telling Chihiro the truth- we saw him being one of Kunishige's top glazers back in chapter 1 despite how uncomfortable it made the dude to be praised. So we just have to sit back and wait for the secrets to come out once Chihiro's well enough to at least listen. And if Shiba can bring himself to talk. All the older guys in this manga are so guilty they'd put a Catholic to shame and Shiba already struggles with not being able to deter Chihiro from taking this bloody path in the first place. He almost failed to save a Rokuhira twice now too.

Samura's kindness towards Chihiro is so genuine even when he's trying to kill the kid. Don't ruin the image of Kunishige for him, Shiba- let him live and die in ignorant bliss.

"Your dad's legacy is the problem."

A man who shared Kunishige's vision has come to want to destroy everything about it and help expose the lies that made them into "heroes"... man, is there any non-Hishaku character in this manga that isn't encumbered by some huge amount of guilt?

Toxic Old Man Yaoi

Nice trashed warehouse HQ, bros. Definitely getting "we lost the war and suffered for it" vibes from these guys. I'm willing to stake 1 (ONE) slice of birthday cheesecake on everything I've talked about in the past regarding their origin- that the Seitei War was a civil war, and the Hishaku were on an imperialistic/dynastic side that lost. BECAUSE:

The Owl spread was AMAZEBALLS

MY NEMESIS

It's deliberate! This is the third time this damn vase has shown up, and in four panels this chapter no less! I need lovingly detailed close-ups of every flower to better ID them for the hanakotoba interpretations but I've only gotten a few so far. Most importantly, a matsumoto (elegance/nobility), sakurasou (deep desire), kiku (Imperial imagery), and what might be a poppy (for assured victory) but I'm not completely confident on the last one.

But anyway, yeah. Another yaoi bomb has hit the fandom.

Look at John talking like a five-year-old about unbreakable pinky promises lmao

Did it have to be pinky rings? What's next, they're connected by a red string? HOKAZONOOOOOOOOOOOO

They're in some kind of toxic stew of a relationship for sure with how things went down this chapter. Worst Jeanist helpfully gave us the details of the pact they made to get Samura's help and he's the only one who's concerned that the guy can actually make good on his "promise" to kill them all. Hope he's got some good anxiety management techniques because John won't say a damn thing about what his contingency plans are until they're enacted, apparently.

Can't run from the blind man.

How do you manoeuver against the guy who is set up to be the tactician of the war, though? His ability to super sense things and scout with that awesome-looking Owl power will definitely make it difficult to go against him despite being blind. And the EN TL says "control" here but the wording in JP was closer to "flushing out" like someone who pursues and exposes prey animals or drives cattle/sheep/etc. So Samura's definitely someone who's used to scouting and hunting, making him quite the formidable assassin.

Of course they're using each other though. And of course there's a separate Kamunabi mole that gave away the Rokuhira household's info. Guess we'll get into that shortly since I'm doing a dangerous thing and assuming that the Kamunabi have rounded up the rest of the Bearers at the HQ to chill with them and the Sword Master. Will they have enough manpower to stand against both the Hishaku and Samura by next week? Will Hakuri even wake up by then? Will Chihiro be able to fight at all? Probably since this is a high-octane action series! I'll just have to shut up and accept the condensed timeline sooner or later. (Seriously though, only a week?!)

"消耗 [used up/exhausted/depleted]" is one way to put it, I guess.

Wonder why they didn't kill Hakuri outright if he was such a problem. Do they have something planned for him later? It's not like John cares about sparing people's lives in the way Samura does, so wouldn't he have mentioned it would have been better to get rid of him for good? Eh, probably just a pointless nitpick. Hakuri's staying to the end of the series in all probability, so he just couldn't die here.

Needing to negotiate with other members-John's a first among equals like Beard Guy at the Kamunabi, maybe? Let's meet all the Hishaku members soon to find out!

Samura, Chihiro, Hiurhiko, and Worst Jeanist Musings

[slaps Samura] This bad boy can fit so much misguided grief in it.

This guy is already an incredibly compelling villain that I've done analysis on bit by bit as we got new info, and I gotta say that if I wasn't sold hard on Kyora for personal reasons then Samura would easily be #1 already. He's so complex and multi-layered! I think the detail that makes him great as a "villain" is that his convictions are colder than the surface of Pluto compared to Chihiro's (and most other character's) who burn bright and hot. Samura doesn't have any passion behind what he's doing, just an inflexible will to see a miserable but necessary job through to the end. If Chihiro's an unstable blazing young star, Samura is the black hole that remains after a supernova finally burns out.

The contrast during their first face-off is extremely telling too. Neither hesitate but Samura easily wins due to his composure alone, never mind the skill and experience gap. Poor Chihro's broken inside and out after finding out one of the people his dad trusted is helping his mortal enemies; the stoicism that John fractured the day before completely falls apart here to reveal Chihiro at his lowest.

"Better dead than a guilty sinner," is it? Too late for that!

And Samura's doing it all because he wants to spare him from becoming a tainted sinner. I can't hate Samura at all- he's doing this as an act of kindness with sympathetic motivations despite how far gone off the rails he is. This isn't a typical villain who just wants the world to burn after he wallowed in his misery for too long! I'm looking forward to seeing how Chihiro recovers and prepares to face him again. If he's going to be the one to do it, that is.

Look at this pathetic ugly frog guy.

Just putting this in my back pocket to pull out later if it manifests somehow. I don't have strong feelings one way or the other about Hiruhiko being the one to kill Samura right now, but I do hope he's not redeemed somehow to join the main cast. My feelings on why are extremely petty so I'll just leave it at "don't make him the bonkers former criminal ally guy that everyone sorta tolerates because he's earnest and useful". I will concede that he was almost cute this chapter, though. Worst Jeanist probably deserves a raise for putting up with him.

And now we know how John got his arm back too.

Another healing utility person like the Makizumi, huh? I wonder if we'll get more lore on if this is a field of study that anyone who can use sorcery can take advantage of (like tools), or if it's how their personal abilities manifest. Probably won't get answers unless we spend more time with the Makizumi so here's hoping!

WARNING: TERMINAL BRAIN ROT AHEAD

Not kidding in the slightest about the absolutely mind-numbingly stupid takes about this (very cool!) cover illustration. Skip this if I don't cut it from the final draft of the post unless you're into batshit ramblings from an insane fudanshi.

[feral screeching]

I've got really strong feelings about this cover. REALLY strong. Only the first of them is justified though. Kinda.

One, HIYUKI IT'S BEEN SO LONG I MISS YOU COME BACK TO THE MAIN STORY SOON! She looks so cool too! I love that she doesn't have to do blatantly feminine stuff ever- she's 100% badass and awesome every time she shows up. I'm waiting warmly for your return, my Spaghetti Queen! Use your frenemy rival status to help Chihiro overcome his issues this arc!

This cover and some of the community's reactions to it sparked a lot of thoughts that I've been working out for the past few days. Some about how leaks are being handled, some about how people are reacting to the characters and the composition, a lot about Hiyuki herself. The first easy enough: yes, this cover and colour page count as leaks. Don't spread that shit all over social media! Keep leaks a purely opt-in experience for everyone. The rest, well... probably going to have another massive essay since I love Hiyuki but I don't love why she's so refreshing, if that makes sense? And by God do I hate the way she gets treated by most of the fandom. But I'll work all that out over time.

Two, the Hiyuki-Chihiro design parallels are getting to me in a bad way. Like "tinfoil hat and red string on a tack board" levels of baseless speculation. But I think it's extremely deliberate on the author's part to keep using the same black-with-a-splash-of-red-up-top colour palette for them now that they even have matching undone bandages in this art for some reason. Why not have those two do their own thing like Hakuri got to? He actually kind of sticks out as if no one told him to dress all in black for this photo shoot!

I don't want to let my HakuHiro shipper bias get the better of me here though, so I'll just keep the crazy to myself until we learn more and/or I finish getting the Hiyuki thoughts in order.

Three, HEROINE HAKURI PROPAGANDA!

I'm being completely serious here! I've been banging pots and pans while screaming from the rooftops (internally) about how Hakuri is in the traditional heroine role since I wrote that HakuHiro essay around Chapter 38! He spares Hiyuki from having to balance things out by providing a soft touch because that's his job. And he's so good at it!

Seriously look at his pose! He's leaning in to Chihiro and doing a cute little gesture with his hands, looking so soft while Chihiro and Hiyuki are the baddest motherfuckers to ever exist! Hokazono-sensei was extremely serious when he said he intended for Hakuri to add cuteness. He's so cute! CUTE! But it's not like he's a total uwu marshmallow either- he's still got a really cool outfit on that highlights his boyish charm. He's just the "soft" one to Chihiro's cool and Hiyuki's fierce.

I know I'm a delusional lunatic for going nuts over this. And I hope it's clear that I'm not taking this as a sign that Hakuri's going to be an actual love interest. I'm not that far gone. I'm just always appreciating that Hakuri and Hiyuki essentially swapped roles in a traditional shounen trio in terms of what kind of balance they bring to the dynamic. I think it's an underrated aspect of Kagurabachi's appeal and I wish more shounen did this! Hokazono-sensei seems to love cute guys and cool women and I am 100% behind him if that's the case.

Rough entry but I'm not having a good time lately. Do your best to survive the rest of the year, kind void. We'll make it through for the sake of finding out how the Kagurabachi cast suffers from week to week if nothing else. Give yourself a little treat today, okay?

[kurain-genealogy]

i said i was gonna post about it and i am. i don't think william afton hates his kids. i don't think william afton is a mad scientist that kidnapped and put children in hallucinogenic gas chambers. whatever the fuck dittophobia said about afton doing all that, plus not stopping/furthering the bullying between michael and cc, is just dumb & wrong. william wanting his kids to fight, even die, is comically evil in the "bad writing" way. him being characterized as someone who experiments on children (including his own with no regard for their lives) in order to achieve immortality or whatever his supposed motivation is, is just really... nothing? as a character there is nothing to make him feel real. in an attempt to flesh out this character, they made him into a cartoon villain with "evil" being his only defining trait. whatever, i could talk for so long about how dumb i think all the dittophobia stuff is but i think most ppl on tumblr are on the same page regarding that.

to me, william afton is best characterized as someone who, at the Very Least, Doesn't Want His Own Children To Die. he can be a shitty father all around, or he can be a genuine loving father who is also a serial killer, as long as he Cares if they Die? most of what makes william afton an interesting villain, and where a lot of people interpret his motivation comes from, is how despite all his best efforts, he cannot prevent the death or downfall of his own family. he is in a tragedy of his own making, a self-imposed hell crafted by his hubris and violence. if you take this away, why should i care what happens to him? william afton was scariest when he was just purple guy and we knew nothing. william afton is most interesting when we have all these relationships and dynamics where we can seriously study and speculate the circumstances behind/around his actions, when he has something to lose (and will lose). william afton is most stale when more things are added to his story without purpose, filling in gaps that were better unfilled or we didn't even know were there – anything after UCN, basically. bro isn't scary anymore because he's either peepaw afton who's brought back despite his story being over, or he's cartoon network's newest over-the-top villian that you can't take seriously.

okay anyway. ANYWAY. william doesn't hate his kids. even if he's a shitty father, i think he still loves his kids. why else would he try and scare his kids away from the robots if he didn't want them to die? why would he design circus baby after his daughter if he didn't care for her, adore her, even? if you believe the theory that he talked to cc through the fredbear plush (idr if that's actually canon), why would he be trying to protect/comfort him?

i don't think he's a perfect, or even a good father, by any means. if you interpret him to be on the better side, that's great and fine. i'd love to hear how other people interpret/characterize afton if you wanna share! continuing on for this post, i'm going to lay out how i personally see william afton.

to me, he is someone who is very concerned and preoccupied with his image and how others view him & his family. even if he's super shitty and awful towards his kids, he at least cares that they all look good as a family unit, that they're well behaved, that he can send family portrait holiday cards to all his business partners and investors.

he strikes me very much as the typical authoritarian parent of the 80s. harsher on his sons because "men don't cry," wants his kids to say "yes, sir," and "no, sir," believes in "tough love," often says "my house, my rules," he has the final say in everything, maybe thinks hitting them from time to time is a normal, necessary punishment. not all entirely malicious, but thinks he's doing what's best, what's right, acting like a parent and father Should act, perhaps how he himself was raised. unfortunately, a very common parental mindset (even outside of serial killers). maybe he was a little scarier sometimes though, a little more unhinged or violently angry. who's to say.

but he's still just a guy who could exist in real life. he still eats dinner with his family every night, hangs his kids' drawings on the fridge, had to turn the car around because they wouldn't stop fighting in the backseat, attended awkward parent-teacher conferences, everything. he was once a new father who happily came home with his first newborn, lost countless nights of sleep over the course of two more, loves them because they're his.

meticulously and senselessly killed children, then came home and tucked his own into bed and kissed them goodnight.

he can be abusive and still love his kids. he can be a murderer and still care for his own kids' lives. maybe the loss of his own kids is what triggered his actions, or maybe it was something else. i'm fine with not knowing because we don't need to know everything, and it's more interesting when we don't.

Something Is Seriously Wrong With This Guy And We Don't Know What or Why. when acquaintances find out he's a suspected murderer, it should be shocking and upsetting. he's such a great man and father, he wouldn't murder those kids! when michael discovers his father's crimes, he should be in denial. sure, he could be scary sometimes, but he wouldn't kill anyone... right? there's a great cognitive dissonance between who he appears to be and who he actually is.

whether william descended into grief-induced madness and obsession, or was just always some kind of freak, or both, i don't think he saw his own family as disposable. even if he didn't truly love them, he at least needed to keep up his own facade as a friendly family man. personally i like to see him as someone who was a shitty father but still loved his kids, because people like that exist, and it makes him a much more interesting, realistic, and nuanced character than if he just didn't care about them At All.