#this is so embarrassing oh god

[natcat5]

Former Young Avengers/MCU fan Staring at my inactive Disney+ subscription right now like

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[re-colligere]

Heyyy what on earth? I think someone left some important documents laying around here. Whoever's in charge of this should be a bit more careful next time...

[carissime]

Literally no thoughts just Gojo after your wedding carrying you over the threshold of your hotel room. You’re not leaving for your honeymoon until the morning but he nearly trips on the doorframe in his haste.

“You really don’t need to carry me—”

“But it’s tradition, we need to consummate the marriage!” he insists. Within seconds his lips are against yours and he’s fumbling with the light switch, and you finally swat his hand away and just beg him to take you to the bed.

He works the zipper of your dress down, part of him sad that he’s not going to see you in this gorgeous gown again, but then it reveals your white lace lingerie and the groan he lets out is broken and guttural and desperate.

This is far from the first time he’s seen you like this, but there’s something about this moment here and now that makes it so much more intense, so much more intimate and he just never wants to let you go.

“Satoru,” you whisper, and his breath hitches.

He leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. “Shh, I know. Just lemme take care of you, like I promised.”

And when he sees the gold band on his fourth finger pressing into the skin of your hips as he sheaths himself inside of you, he nearly loses himself, sending up a prayer to whatever gods are listening that he can keep his promise to keep you safe and happy forever.

[fruityumbrella]

one piece is set in a nautical world with presumably nautical idioms and exclamations to match, right, like swearing by the sea rather than on a god etc. to wit, there's five seas (the four blues + the grand line) so we can assume when you're feeling particularly dramatic, you might refer to all those vast oceans to get your hyperbolic point across.

keeping that in mind, lets live in a stupidly romantic corny ass world for a moment ok? take my hand.

"I swear on all six seas, if you don't shut the fuck up right now—"

"What?" Sanji looks at him like he's stupid. Nothing new, really.

"Ha, even you're going deaf having to listen to your own annoying ass whining all the time, Cook. I was—"

"No, you—"

"Don't interrupt me! Oi!" he yelps as a wooden spoon bounces harmlessly off his shoulder. He's not impressed that Sanji manages to catch it before it hits the counter.

"You said six seas," Sanji states.

Zoro stares back in lieu of an answer.

"Huh, maybe this has something to do with why you're always lost. There's only five seas, dummy."

And ah, now he gets what the idiot cook is on about. He's surprised and a little disappointed, honestly. You'd think the guy would be a little more aware about his own fucking dream, but whatever. He's got that annoying smile, smug and cocky like he's oh so much better than Zoro.

"Would you like me to count them out for you? I know it's a big number, it's probably confusing for a simple creature like you."

Zoro crosses his arms in clear warning, something the cook, as always, blatantly ignores. He's leaning on the counter that's between them now, eyes sparkling with glee. Idiot. Zoro's thoughts do not have a fond tone to them. Thoughts don't have tones at all, thank you very much.

Sanji lifts a hand and proceeds to count off on his fingers with the precision of a drill sergeant.

"I'm sure you at least know our ocean, the East Blue. There's also the West Blue, North Blue, South Blue, and of course the Grand Line," he wiggles all his fingers as he puts his thumb up for the last one like he's emulating fireworks.

Zoro snorts indelicately. "And?"

Sanji frowns with a tilt of his head.

"And?"

Zoro holds up his index finger.

"And," he says, stifling his amusement as Sanji goes cross eyed trying to follow said finger as it arcs towards him, "your All Blue. Dummy."

He punctuates the last word by poking Sanji in the forehead, snickering when he sputters and swats the digit away in a huff. Then Zoro's words finally sink in, and he straightens up almost too fast. It's not endearing at all.

"Wait," he says quietly, "you count it?"

Zoro doesn't like how Sanji's looking at him with an open expression he's not usually allowed. He looks earnest and sincere. Zoro feels suddenly out of his depth.

"Don't you?" he deflects uncomfortably.

"Well yeah, but that's different. You're—" he shrugs half heartedly and looks away. Zoro can't tell if the end of that sentence was going to disparage him or the cook. Odds are likely split down the middle. Sanji keeps looking at him, and he feels pinned. The bright look is gone, replaced by something more reserved but perhaps...searching? Considering, at the least. It's making him increasingly self conscious. He needs to get out of here.

"Okay. I'm gonna steal some alcohol now," he says shortly, striding to the cabinet and swiping a bottle before Sanji blinks out of his stupor.

[hejee]

morrigan mansplaining elvhen culture while playing as lavellan hits so close to home (ily morrigan but this is not it 😭)

[sibylsleaves]

tumblr desperately needs a way to tell you if someone is following you from their main blog when you're following their sideblog because man.....the number of times ive gone 🥺🥺🥺🥺 over thinking a beloved mutual unfollowed me only to realize they are following me from their main blog.........

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I was *not* longing, I swear.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[tananais]

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

heeyyy gaaanggg

the pose and the background of the album version (left) are based on oingo boingos only a lad album art. not cause i think he has anything to do with it but just cause ive been wantin to draw that pose for like. weeks and i didnt know who to put there. so why not my latest bug man.

[idyllcy]

you're the risk, i'm gonna take it

word count: 10k || banner art by @wr0wn

warnings: mild violence, mentions of blood

summary: A duty to protect, not touch

The sky is a bright blue the first time Leon Scott Kennedy catches glance of you in the academy.

You're engaged to the crown prince, title of crown princess ghosting behind you whenever you step from left to right, front and back, and it is a title that carries the most weight in the empire. You have perfect attendance in the empire's only academy, perfect scores on every possible subject, the title of Grandmaster piled alongside a variety of other achievements you've attained despite being so young. Leon wonders if the titles bury you alive. You must be some god-reincarnate if you're capable of accomplishing so much in the time that it took for him to even learn the sword.

He meets you in passing, your steps noble and proud as you pass him in the hallway of the academy, but it takes no genius to immediately realize that your aura is more than developed. It's enough to make Leon grimace and slow slightly, but you pause to blink at him as he walks away. He feels your gaze on his back, but without a calling, he isn't obligated to slow down. He feels only slightly guilty, but as a student in the faction of the royal family, he isn't obligated to greet you despite your status as crown princess. You aren't the empress yet. Keyword, yet.

So, Leon continues on his way, hand on the hilt of his sword unconsciously, knuckles turning white from the grip, only letting it go when Luis points it out.

Huh. How strange.

He tries not to think of it. He'll be your knight one day, and you'll be the empress. The closest he would be able to stand to you would have been that moment in the hallway, and even had he entertained such thoughts, it would have been impossible. You are not allowed to cheat as the future mother of the nation, and he is not allowed to covet the royal family as a future knight. He has not the luxury, yet the sound of your footsteps leave not his mind.

You stay further cemented when rumors of the crown prince's infidelity flutter around the school between the hallways and through even the air. He worries. You seem like you can only handle so much from there, yet you make no move. All the rumors surrounding you dissipate when the truth is revealed, and he finds that even when he spots you at tea with your companions, you react now. If anything, and, dare he say it, you almost look relieved. He tries understanding. Perhaps it is because you are tired of the crown princess training. Or, perhaps you are simply relieved that you no longer have to carry the weight of the world.

He understands not why you are on his mind, but he cares not.

Only when the rumors are proved true does Leon consider changing out of the royal family's legion for your duchy's. He does not appreciate the corruption and foolishness of the crown prince, and if he were to guard with his life of such a careless man, he would be unable to keep his life. He values that still, at the very least. So, he applies for a change, and a chance to enter into a duchy's knighthood. Yours is the hardest to enter, but he does not lack the skill.

His request is turned in and processed, but he requires a final meeting with the emperor to assure his loyalty. So, he is told to wait for his letter, his day passing slowly as he listens to the gossip amongst the knights of how the crown prince was cheating on the crown princess with a commoner girl. Leon ignores it for the most part, but the insults hurled from one person to the next cause him to tune the vast majority of them out. At the very least, they do not seem to be blaming you for the prince's infidelity.

When the emperor calls for an audience with him, he arrives slightly earlier than invited, and he is told to wander around the palace until the emperor is ready. So, he wanders through the portraits and ornaments, glancing at the stained glass in so many of the hallways, wondering if you had ever— why is it you? Does it have to be you? How can it not be the crown prince? Perhaps he is curious of you. Perhaps, just perhaps, he is slightly invested in you. You are quite intriguing, whatever that might mean to him at the time.

When it is time, he arrives at the grand hall, pulling on the door just as you stumble through, the sight of you causing him to blink.

"Sir Leon."

"Princess." He nods back, watching as you rush off, mumbling to yourself, head down.

Ah, he should...

Leon catches up to you, grabbing you by the wrist as your eyes render him breathless.

Shit.

"Are you... alright, princess?" He swallows.

"Yes."

"Positive?" He tries again. You do not seem alright.

"Yes, Sir Leon."

"I... may not know you, but I assure you I am here if you are in need of assistance."

Leon watches as you rush off, and he knows not of what just possessed him, but he knows that he is there if you are in need of him. Why would he be there if you are in need of him? Why would he. He blinks at his hand as your footsteps fade into the corridor. Huh. You're much frailer than he thought you'd be. Even if your aura was somewhat suffocating, you are still smaller than he. He wonders what your ability is.

"Sir Leon?"

"Yes." He nods, stepping into the throne room as the crown prince leaves with the girl.

He shouldn't entertain those thoughts.

The change from the royal family to the dukedom is seen as a downgrade by many of his fellow knights. He's asked if there is a specific reason, but Leon cannot truly name one that does not have to do with you, so he settles with telling everyone that he would much rather serve someone who is so-called pure than someone who has the heart to commit infidelity despite being betrothed to someone. The people in his legion understand for the most part. Luis, though has other ideas, winking at Leon when his new uniform arrives, wiggling his brows as Leon tries out the uniform.

"It's for la princesa, isn't it?" He wiggles his brows, looking from behind Leon as the latter rolls his eyes.

"It is not."

"Most of us can tell, you know?" Luis hums. "You like her."

"That'd be funny." Leon hums, adjusting the buttons and loosening the neck area. "I truly do not. Perhaps it is a knight's sense to guard."

"We of all people know that she is not one who needs guarding." Luis rolls his eyes. "Don't forget how easily she beat Grandmaster Krauser last year in the tournament without even activating aura."

"It does not change that I want to guard the future duke."

Luis wiggles his brows in knowing, and Leon can only sigh.

"There is no way I would join a rank just to approach the young duke."

The first day upon meeting the knights, he's thoroughly chewed out by the general because of the rumors he transferred to court you. He denies it, but he is told to keep his distance nonetheless. Well-regarded knight or not, everyone was equal under the dukedom, and no one was to even dream of having their hands on the future duke. It is their duty to guard, not to touch. The only kind of contact they were allowed to do was one to protect, not to have.

It's drilled through Leon's brain on the first day, and he keeps it in the back of his mind — even when you request that he be your personal guard that same day.

Wait. Huh. What.

"Are you opposed to it?"

Leon blinks down at you, pausing to collect himself, brows furrowing as he thinks over it.

"Is there a reason it is me, princess?"

"Is it wrong to appoint the best knight in the rank as my personal guard? I fear no one quite rivals your swordsmanship out of all my knights."

Leon blinks. He knows not why he hesitates, but he ponders over just what he should listen to. His mind? His heart? That strange emotion that's been driving him up a wall upon meeting you all that while ago? It's incredible, he thinks. He has lost all sense of reason simply because he has met you. Yet, the words of the general force him to stay grounded, mentioning that perhaps it would have more of a misunderstanding if he were to prove himself as a worthy contender to be your personal guard. He can not risk ruining your reputation. It would be cruel of him.

"Perhaps a recommendation from the general himself?" Leon nods. "A recommendation from anyone that is not you, princess. With all due respect. I have vowed to protect your purity until it is time, for it is my duty as one of your knights."

"I see." You tap your cheek. "Then, from my father would suffice?"

"Perhaps."

"I shall let the duke know of my idea."

Leon grows flustered at your bow, telling you to stand up and that as your knight, he deserves not your kind gesture. He is new in the rank, not even an old knight. He deserves not that honor from you, yet you shake your head. You tell him it is nonsense for him to believe that he is not of equal rank as you because you are a noble. You are a knight as well, he remembers. Yet, he is not the grandmaster that you are, so he still does not deserve it.

"If the duke appoints it, you shall listen?"

"Of course, your highness."

Leon watches as you spin on your heel and leave.

Surely, the duke would be opposed to such an idea.

Leon goes back to his day-to-day schedule, adapting and getting along with the rest of the knights, listening as they whisper to each other and him of how dazzling you are, and how there would have been plenty of knights in the rank that had applied in order to get a second look at the young duke. Leon cannot refute their words, as you are attractive, but he does not add fuel to the fire, listening to their rambling instead, hearing of rumors left and right of different people.

"Leon, what are your thoughts? Surely you transferred because you found the young duke attractive?"

"On the contrary, it was because I did not wish to serve a cheating crown prince." He stares at the wooden stein in his hand, at the gold of the beer that haunts him back. "The dukedom was the next best legion."

"Truly not because you covet the young duke?"

"You know, with a face like his, surely seducing the young duke is an easy feat."

"He just has to show up shirtless in front of the princess once!"

Leon does not answer to their words, wondering if you are used to such whispers behind your back. It had always been "the crown prince is so lucky to have such an attractive princess as his betrothed" and never how much you had accomplished. He would not know that idea, but perhaps your role as a woman in this world was similar to him being a commoner in another. But of course, it would be hard to compare the life of a princess to that a commoner, regardless of gender orientation. He has not the luxury, and he is aware that you do not either.

"Leon, I heard the duke is considering having you guard the princess. Tell us all about it, will you?"

The smile on the knight's face is more than enough to convince Leon that such sharing will not be necessary. Besides, it would be hard for the duke to appoint him as knight with his background. It would create baseless and useless rumors around you, and it would hinder the chances of you getting married or engaged to other noblemen. Leon is not someone with a title nor a name, so even if he were to find you lovely, he would be unable to do anything. The difference in status was too jarring.

He is not in your world, and his duty is to guard, not to protect.

When the duke calls him in for a meeting, he can only assume that you have somehow convinced the duke to let him guard you.

"The young duke mentioned it to you, I believe? I have decided to let them proceed with it." The duke nods. "Though, you have the choice to turn down the offer."

"I would not dream of it, duke." Leon bows, and he is dismissed.

He wonders how you did it, but not too much when he knocks and enters your room, standing to the side as you finish tying your tie, tilting your head at Leon as he greets you in the morning.

"Princess."

You are always a sight to behold. The title of heir suits you, and your posture is perfect, elegance and grace radiating off of you, uniform perfect on your body. There is an air that only certain nobles carry, and it is without a doubt that you are one of them. Leon finds that those with such an air are more tolerable than those without. There is a certain education that those who are aware of their position hold. You know perfectly where you stand.

"Good morning, sir." You smile. "Has the duke summoned you?"

"Yes." He nods. He's quite impressed that you managed to convince the duke, but he's also curious what had driven the duke to do such a thing. Perhaps you would let him know—

"I got ambushed two nights ago, you see."

Leon blinks, sure that he has just heard you wrong. "Pardon?"

"An assassin had tried throwing a potion at me. It wasn't much, but it was annoying as is since I had bloodied my nightgown, so I was moved to a single rather than my old room. I miss my roommate terribly, you see."

"I trust you miss Princess Ashley very much." He nods.

"I do."

"Perhaps you should go visit her in the morning?"

"I can not, you see... It would put her in danger. Until I am no longer the crown princess, I can not risk anyone... other than you, of course. But then again, you have become a knight of the house, so you are... to be used? That does not sound quite right."

"My body is to serve you, princess." Leon nods.

"Oh... your words are easy to misunderstand, Sir Leon." Your voice carries mirth when you tell him.

Leon realizes the weight of his words, backing up gently. "I... did not mean that kind of use. My apologies, princess."

"It is nothing. Worry not." You smile.

Leon follows you around the campus, his classes never overlapping with yours, dutifully lingering around you, nodding at you when you have lunch with Ashley and Ada, sat to the side where he can still see you, but having lunch with Luis. He's sure that he needs to keep a sharp eye on you, but all he can seem to hear is Luis talking about how he's grown to be the princess' favorite.

"She quite likes you, eh?"

"I do not know what you're talking about." Leon bites into his meal, giving Luis an unamused stare.

"You're always so mean to me." Luis sighs.

"You insist on teasing me over something that is not reality."

"I fear it is reality, only you do not realize." Leon sighs, taking another bite.

"There is no amusement in tha—"

Ada's voice breaks Leon from his eating. "Leon!"

It's a knight's instinct — to protect. Leon's sword is out almost immediately, the girl is tackled to the ground as Ada stands in front of you, sword held up in front of her as he waits for your order. He does not have time to ponder over whether or not this was a decision of logic. His use to you is to serve. His duty is to protect and not touch. Regardless of who it was, he was not to let any harm come your way.

"Princess?"

"She tried pouring hot water on me."

Leon listens as your footsteps stop next to him.

"What would the crown prince think? If he were to find out that his beloved was out bullying the crown princess?"

The hand on his shoulder indicates for him to let go, and he obeys, stepping off of the girl as she coughs and sputters excuses.

"It was an accident!"

"Quite the opposite." Ashley raises a brow from the table. "Both Dame Ada and I saw you sneak up behind her to pour the water. Perhaps be more discreet if you decide you do not value your life."

"P-princess—"

"Save it. If my foolish brother wishes to squander his position for some commoner girl, then so be it. It is not as though we do not have other siblings." She waves her hand, and the girl rushes off.

You laugh. "I'm fine. Ada reacted quite efficiently. Perhaps you should be my personal knight instead?"

Ada shakes her head. "Unfortunately, I am tied to my current house. I have taken the oath already."

"I see. I forget that you are our senior oftentimes. You will be gone soon."

Leon glances at you as you sit back down, exhaling as you do.

"You make it sound as though I will pass." She rolls her eyes. "Sir Leon, thank you. You're free to return to dine."

"Princess?" He must check on you one final time.

"Please dine, kind knight. I must as well."

"Then, with pleasure."

Leon finds that your day-to-day life is full of harassment attempts. He can no longer count on his hands how many times someone has attempted something to you, and he ponders if this is simply the result of your breaking off of the engagement or the jealousy of the crown prince's partner. From what he has gathered from your tea times with your friends, there isn't much you like about the crown prince. You find him to be someone who is just... your betrothed. You tell the girls that you only look forward to the day that you could perhaps develop a personality of your own outside of the title of crown princess.

You afford not the luxury that a typical noble should, at least not when it comes to your actions.

So, when Leon is sent off with the princess in his arms in a hurry, he's apprehensive to leave you all alone in the garden. If something were to happen to you, then it would be his fault, so he wastes no time in telling the nurse that the princess is poisoned, and leaving her ladies in waiting with her. He makes haste, hopping out a window and rushing down the hall to make sure that you have not fallen. It takes not a genius to know that the goal of isolation was to kill, so he's relieved to find that you've killed three of the four men already. He stabs through the spine of the final one with his sword, and you nod at him for his service. Though, for him, he really did none. You had taken care of the majority of them.

"You got blood on your clothes, princess." Leon fishes out a handkerchief for you, and he watches you try wiping your face before you just huff and tell him to do it for you.

Leon's careful not to press too hard, hand cupping your face while the other wipes gently. He tries ignoring the way you blink up at him with a smile on your face, the unfamiliar feeling of his heart racing in his ears from someone rather than a fight uncomfortable. He worries that his fingers are too calloused for your skin, but you do not complain while he wipes. When he finishes, he pockets the handkerchief, taking a step back as you give him a nod in gratitude.

"Are you alright?"

"I am quite alright. Nothing a little knight training could not handle." Leon watches you stop in your steps. "Dare I say, it was cartharic."

"My apologies for leaving, princess. I shall stay next time."

"Those ladies in waiting could not have taken care of the princess in the time that it took for you to carry her over. I sent you off. It was not your fault."

The guilt still stays, though.

So, even when your engagement is announced as broken off to your family, Leon stays in the corner of your dorm, eyes focused on the window. There is some sort of uncomfortable feeling that he can only describe as instinct, and when the first wave of assassins decide to even step foot into the room, Leon's on their necks. This isn't bloodlust, no. This is some other twisted form of duty, he thinks. He's only protecting you. It has nothing to do with the fact that the guilt of leaving you alone with assassins ate him alive, and that he is somehow trying to compensate for it by letting none of them close to your bed. Someone must have disabled the forcefield while the two of you were away.

The first wave of assassins fall, blood on the ground, barely putting up a fight. Leon stares out the window, and it just so happens to be a strategy to exhaust him rather than kill him. Whoever sent these men out must love to assume things about people. It's a shame that his aura fed on blood. The second wave is wiped out, and Leon feels himself sweating through his clothes by the third, the blood already more than annoying to wipe from his face, and when the fourth wave arrives, he decides that it'd be much easier to just plummet them all to their deaths through the window.

The dorm reeks of blood by the time that he is gone, and he's sure to wipe his hands free of the fluid before kneeling by your bed, resting his head on his sword, breathing labored. He's sure the gold of his hair has become brown from blood, and that his skin has become stained with red. Perhaps he would scare you if you were to wake, but he can not keep up appearances in this state. He's exhausted. He would need rest, and it helps not that he is stuck on one knee at the side of your bed with a bloodied sword. He takes the moment to breathe, eyes closing only when he no longer hears the footsteps of people.

He's sure he's a sight to behold right now. Stuck on one knee at the foot of your bed, sword resting on the ground, sweat and blood visible in his hair, eyes closed as his breathing's labored. The sound of thunder outside of your windows adds to the ambiance, and Leon worries that he might scare you, eyes only opening to check that you're still breathing. There has to be at least one more round. He's sure of it. He's just waiting for it to happen. He can not rest until his instincts tell him that you are safe. His duty is to guard. He must spare nothing of himself in order to keep you safe.

When the final assassins attempt to break in, Leon doesn't bother fighting the traditional way, blue eyes glowing in the dark as the blood on him forms a sword. Truly, they do not pay him enough to deal with this. Yet, he endures it all, the blood in the room cleaning itself to form into his sword, the final two assassins halting at the art. Leon allows himself two hits. One for each assassin, and he upholds his words, both of the final men falling to the ground, the red of his sword staining his arms, sword collapsing into the ground when he finishes, the exhaustion finally allowed to slither through his body, kneeling on the ground at the foot of your bed as you stir.

"Did I wake you?" He looks up at you, sure that his eyes look tired.

"Knight, are you alright?" You take the handkerchief on your bedside, motioning for Leon to look up at you, wiping the blood and sweat from his face as he exhales, nuzzling into your hand.

"My duty is to guard, princess. It matters not whether or not I am alright." He whispers. "Though, I thank you for cleaning my face. I can not leave you even for a moment."

"Perhaps I shall assign a second knight? It is exhausting to be like this, no?"

"Just let me rest my eyes once the magicians arrive. I will be alright." He whispers.

"Rest on the couch, my knight."

Leon lets you lead him to couch, following your hands as you have him lay down, blinking slowly at you sitting on the other couch, eyes only daring to close once the magicians restore the forcefield. He's out after that, exhaustion wracking through his bones. He's glad he had decided to stay up this time rather than return to his quarters to rest. The couch is uncomfortable, but when he wakes and the sun peeks past your curtains, he finds that it's not that bad. He had a full night's rest, and it seemed that you had fallen asleep across from him

Even when he wakes and you're resting across from him, your eyes closed, skin warm from the sun's glow, he finds it isn't that bad. He changes out of his clothes, leaving your room after checking the protective field, and he returns, only to find that you're still sprawled out on the couch without a care in the world, nightgown hiked up your thigh as Leon closes his eyes and collects himself. This is a biological response. His duty is to guard, not to touch. So, he calls your name, hand placed on the back of the couch as he watches you stir in your sleep.

"Princess, you'll be late to class." He tries again.

You stir, grimacing as you roll over after catching a look at him.

That's enough to wake you, as Leon takes a step back after you nearly hit him in the chin, and order him out after trying to cover yourself. Your nightgown leaves not much to the imagination, and he follows your order, trying to calm his racing heart outside of your door while you change. This is a biological reaction. This has not to do with the fact that all he has done of late is stick around you and get to know you, and it is not related to the reality that he has gotten to know you rather well and that you are attractive with no betrothed. That is not a factor in why his heart races like this. No. Surely not.

Leon's not supposed to return to the duchy with you, so when the duke summons and makes known that Leon will be returning to the mansion in the east with you, Leon agrees, though apprehensive. He has not much to pack, so he makes do with a singular suitcase, packed before he knocks on the door to your room, let in with a single command from you. He watches as you smooth out your clothes and help the maids, only letting go once your personal maid tells you hands off. You comply, though Leon catches a pout on your lips as he steps next to you.

"Are you all packed, princess?" He steps behind you, glancing at the briefcases.

"Yes." You take one final look at the room, tilting your head at Leon. "And you?"

"I have not many belongings." He nods.

Leon finds that you truly do not do much. You attend classes and linger around his in the afternoon, choosing to stick by Ada instead of him but still glancing his way, making him wonder. Yet, he has not the luxury to think what your stolen glances mean, since even if they were to mean something, he would not be able to act upon your preferences. He has not the luxury, and neither do you. Even if all he can think of is your bare skin and how your lips would taste, he has not— he needs an ice bath. Preferably now, but he truly should not be thinking of you in such a way. His duty is to guard, not to touch.

"You graduate the incoming year, correct?"

Your words break him from his trance, blinking slowly to come back to reality.

"Sir Leon, if you'd like, I can—"

"Yes, princess." He smiles. "My apologies. I've been lost in thought more and more often lately. You were saying?."

"I was just going to say that if you no longer wish to guard me, I can let the duke know to return you to the knight's quarters. I imagine it must be hard guarding me at all times."

"I... it's quite alright, princess. I do nto find that it is a burden. Rather, you make it so that I am comfortable guarding you." Leon assures you. "Though, if you wish to change guards, I am not against such a change."

"I would not dream of it, Sir Leon. I am glad that you do not find me a nuisance. I was worried that night had made you change your mind, you see."

"That would not happen with such ease." He holds his hand out for you, helping you into the carriage as you thank him. "You would not rid of me that easily."

"Oh, how romantic."

Leon can only step in after you, cheeks red with color, staring out the window as your laughter fills the carriage.

Perhaps, but only with you.

Huh. With you? Only with you? What is that supposed to mean? He's your knight, he dares not to have improper thoughts of you. Perhaps he shouldspend time away from you if he dares to have such thoughts. He can not act upon them, and even though he had not accounted for the fact that he could have fallen for you like this, he finds that the warmth on his skin from your touch will never be unwelcome. How sickening of him to even have such unwelcomed thoughts of you. What is the point of coveting him if his duty is to guard? There is no way he would ever get to feel the touch of your skin outside of escorting and protecting.

Yet, it keeps him up at night, the moon in his eyes as he blinks up at it, in the knights' quarters rather than outside your door, unused to being far away from you for so long. He should not know this feeling. He should not understand what it is to covet and like your master, yet he is not immune to it, finding that perhaps this will end terribly for him once you are engaged to another man once again. He has not the choice, nor the luxury. So, he is stuck greeting you in the mornings, following you around and accompanying you to your day-to-day, guarding your door while you take care of the matters of the mansion, stationed to the side when you dine.

He is not your equal, and he fears he never might be in this universe.

"Princess." Leon nods, delivering the papers your father's aide had told you needed double-checking. You have not had a break since your return.

Leon dons a sympathetic smile when you rest your face in your hands.

"Will you go out with me tomorrow?"

"What for?"

"I need to take a walk before I become a pile of paperwork myself." You sigh. "It would be a nice change of pace."

"And not in the garden which you so willfully manage?"

"I want not a breath of air down in the streets while I can still afford it. One day I will be cursed to stay inside at all times. I can go alone if you do not wish to."

"Princess, are you planning on sneaking out?" He raises a brow.

"Perhaps..." You try and change the subject. "Is there a reason you insist on calling me princess? I am the young duke, you are aware?"

"I am, but it changes not that you are a princess until the official title of duke is given to you."

Oh, is that too direct?

"Am I your princess, my knight?"

Guess not.

"Who else would be?"

"Perhaps your lover? You are getting to that age, after all. Have any of the knights caught your eye?"

"It would be improper to court anyone in the same house as I, but it would be concerning to court someone from a house that is not mine. Time will tell." Leon shakes his head. Though, not that he covets someone else. He'd argue that coveting his master is the worst thing.

"I find Dame Ada quite attractive."

"It changes not that she has no interest in anything other than her blade." Leon thinks of all the rumors surrounding the female knights in the royal legion.

"Reasonable. Ugh, I must start considering the noblemen again. Father sent letter to make haste."

Leon finds himself curious of such. Noblemen were always easier to become than noblewomen when you were a commoner. Dare he entertain the thought, perhaps he would be able to... he dares not to complete that thought. It would be blasphemy for him to. He cannot fathom becoming someone of that importance to you as your knight. He might never become someone of that importance to you.

"Princess, what would make a man a nobleman?"

"Noble blood, or someone who holds a title of Grand so and so. Grandmaster knights and Grandmaster mages are both considered nobility under the law." You pause. "Perhaps you should go become the new Grandmaster in the knight tournament later in summer. I'd let you go for that reason."

"And for what reason would I have to become a grandmaster?"

Do you share the same sentiment?

"Oh, my apologies." You laugh, scratching your cheek. "It was just a suggestion. It would be nice to tell my father that I'll decide after the knighting tournament, after all. You made it quite far last time."

"You have the title of grandmaster as well, no?" He tilts his head.

"I do." You hum. "Which is why it would be nice to be guarded by one."

"I see."

No other reason, then.

"Will you reward me if I win?"

"If there is something I can give, then of course. It would only be fair for me to reward my loyal knight, no? Then, I shall arrange for someone to take over your role after tomorrow."

Then Leon believes that he should. After all, if he were to fight a grandmaster and last an adequate amount of time, then he would be given the title as well. He needs to defeat or stay standing, and considering the bloodshed in the arena, it won't be long before he can use his aura on the red. He wonders if it'll scare you. He had only ever dared to use it behind your back. Though, you were never really in a position to warrant him to use it other than the darkness of night that one time.

If he's lucky, he'll fight you.

If he isn't, he'll fight his old legion commander.

If he's truly unlucky, he'll fight someone he's never met before.

Though, that wouldn't be much of a deal.

He follows you out the following day, nodding at you as you hand him skewers from night markets and other treats. You attempt to explain that your version of splurging was having commoner food, but Leon finds that it is a hard sentiment to share. He does not understand, but he does not mind all that much. He keeps you safe, sticking behind you as you kick your legs at the festival. He finds it quite nice. It was a break that was much needed for him as well despite the role of your guard on this excursion.

"Have you considered who to train with?" You tilt your head, tossing your skewer into a bin.

"I have not, princess." Leon shakes his head.

"Shall I train you?"

Leon believes that truly it would be better to say no, but he finds that he has not that ability, agreeing instead. He's sure that he might get distracted or worse, but he finds that you mean it when you say train. Leon doubts Krauser ever trained him this harshly. You train with him, running matching his as you complete paperwork during his breaks, and Leon wonders if he's underestimated you. Perhaps you didn't need him to protect you that night. Had he not been there, you might've wiped them out much quicker than he did.

Yet, he spares no extra thought, catching his breath after a run that he's too tired to think over. He's stuck there breathing and catching his breath all while you lean against the pole to look over the remaining papers of the day. You must be made of steel. Leon can hardly keep up with your training, yet you pass through it with a breeze, having even the energy to do paperwork afterward.

"Princess, do—" He heaves. "do you not tire after the runs?"

"Nothing is as awful as the endurance training I received for the title of crown princess." You finish with the task. "Now, shall we do another lap?"

"Princess." He gasps. "Please let your knight rest."

"One might get the wrong notion at your words, Sir Leon." You hum. "Take a break. Would you like something to drink?"

"Just air." He sits on the stone pathing and falls back, resting on the ground and staring at the sky. He finds that he must receive the title of grandmaster. If he does not, he fears you might end up in a toxic cycle with a man who cares not for you, and as your knight, his duty is to guard you. What better way to guard you from the horrors of others if not by guarding you in every way possible? If your purity is guarded, then you can rest until you graduate.

After you graduate, surely, you shall fall in love with someone and wed.

So, Leon continues with each day of his, enduring your training in the morning and resting at night to the thought of you. He wonders if this is a form of treason — to like one's master. Yet, he dares not to speak up, daring not to do something that could ruin his chances of ever seeing you ever again. Though, the only visible change in himself that he notices by the end of it all is that he has grown larger in stature. If he had been alright for a knight before, then he would have been far better as one now. He has you to thank for that, he supposes.

You leave for the tournament with him.

Leon helps you onto the carriage, listening to you ramble of how the duke was rushing you for marriage, asking if you had plans to respond. You shake your head at him, and Leon settles for talking to you, trying his best to calm his anxiety. The adrenaline would overtake it once at the tournament, but until then, he would be stuck feeling anxious over baseless things. Speaking with you was always a welcome activity for him. However, only with you.

Perhaps he would learn to be more honest with himself.

The ride itself is nothing remarkable, green passing before it returns to the streets of the capital, bustling roads and busy people. The knight tournament was a big event, and it was open to all who wished to come. It was a display of power, and it was an act of variance to the people. Leon knew well that the emperor only hosted these tournaments in order to knight only the strongest of men. Yet, there are still century-old loopholes that could be abused with the right amount of talking. Everything could be learned if you were smart enough.

When he arrives, he is sure to escort you to your lodging before he returns to his own. You follow for the sake of knowing, and Leon takes you there. It is a small upgrade from the previous year, but it would still be better if he were to move up. Your lodging was much nicer than his, so it would only make sense for him to aim for such. After all, even if he were to not do it for himself, he must do it for you.

You had spent so much time taking care of him so it was only fair that he would take care of you in return.

Maybe he did love his own master, but was it such a sin to partake of the tree that nurtures you?

Leon says his goodbyes to you, and he finds that the first handful of days have not too much of an effect on him. It is the same old, blades clashing and metal making sound, clangs of sound in the arena as people are knocked down again and again. It isn't all that new to Leon anymore. You had far more strength than necessary, and you had never once gone easy on him. He lasts a long enough time against you, but there was no guarantee he would in the tournament. The exhaustion from multiple days of battle would wear him down by the final day.

Yet, he ends up in the semifinals with multiple of his old comrades, apologizing gently before he knocks them out one by one, standing in the middle of the arena as one of the final knights left. His breathing is labored by the end, the defeat of seven other knights enough to warrant him to start considering whether he would survive the battle the next day. Yet, he is announced as victor, exhaustion deep in his bones as he looks up to where the grandmasters are seated. They must pick someone now.

Leon ponders if this is some strange sense of invincibility simply because he had chosen you as his master. Yet, he dares not to think it, watching as the grandmasters discuss amongst themselves over who would fight him. You can not fight him, you had mentioned, since you had been his master. You stand on the side, watching the rest of the people discuss, and Krauser is eliminated since Leon had been his pupil. Leon is finally chosen to duel with Sir Albert, but there is little to no chance to win against him. He simply has to outlast the other knights who have also made it so far.

You do not visit him for the time being, so he recuperates in his room, resting well and stretching to remove the soreness, heeding your words on staying hydrated before the battle itself. When he is called, he is notified that the previous knight had lasted a total of forty minutes. Leon is told that in previous years, winners had lasted well over an hour of continuous battle. He lasts forty at most when in battle with you, and he had hardly any faith in himself that he would last longer when battling Sir Albert. He drew the short end of the stick, yet he ponders if he truly did. Out of the final knights, he could not place himself in any position that he could guarantee that he would win.

Yet, even if he were to die in the battle, he must die trying.

Leon bows at the knight as they stand on opposite ends, and he fights. Drilled into his body by your training, he is capable of predicting typical movement based on posture, but he is not prepared for the sheer strength and deceptiveness that his opponent hones. He receives a blow once or twice, and he has little to no time to think over the timer at the speed of his opponent. His blade clashes more times than he can count, ducking and flipping back when there are too many close calls.

Leon learns to stomach the hits, blade no longer enough as he feels his wounds, cuts strewn on both his arms and face, too many close calls for comfort, yet none on his legs. He learns to dodge as he fights, realizing that kicks to the knight's legs mean little to nothing. Leon would have to dodge and duck. When he steps back, the blade is oftentimes thrust at his stomach, so Leon learns to have his blade meet it, twisting it in one motion to force it downwards so he can stumble his opponent.

Once the other knight picks up on this, Leon learns to use different strategies, kicking and spinning, blade an extension of his body as he fights. The blood from his body eventually pools into his blade, aura bright red as his blade rusts the grandmaster's, wondering if he would have the ability to defeat the grandmaster before he would get to activate his aura. There was not one soul who knew not that Sir Albert's ability made his blade unbreakable. He would have to make up his lack of stamina in strength, and he truly only had one chance to do so. Before the grandmaster made his blade unbreakable rather than his body.

It mattered not whether or not Leon had injuries, but it mattered whether or not he could break his opponent's blade. He knows not the time, so it would be in his best interest to do so.

So, Leon focuses all of his energy on a final strike, blood swallowing his opponent's blade, leaving it in pieces as he stumbles backwards, breathing labored as he listens for the blare of his victory. It has been far too long. He has been stuck fighting his opponent for far too long. He is exhausted to the bone, a form of exhaustion that he had only felt once. He despises this exhaustion, yet he must pull forth. He wonders if the blood will be enough, or if he will be stuck riding the effects of his adrenaline in order to win.

He is left exhausted when his opponent simply forms the sword once more from the broken pieces.

He prepares to start again, stumbling back as he breathes, blood rushing to his head as Sir Albert stops to stare up at the time. Time slows for Leon, sure that he is far too exhausted to continue fighting, body weight supported by his blade as he gasps, sure that he is nauseous beyond repair. He feels as though he could empty the contents of his stomach from the past four days just from how awful he feels. He forces himself to focus anyway, eyes glued to the grandmaster as he registers the words.

"One hour and twenty minutes." The grandmaster announces. "In addition, you have broken my blade. Sir Leon, congratulations on winning your battle."

Leon gasps for air, fatigue visible all over his face as he gasps out thanks to the grandmaster, forcing himself up despite the pain in his muscles, bowing at the grandmaster before stumbling to the barracks to lie down. He sits in the back as he watches the next knight step up to the podium, no longer caring. His case was finished, and the grandmaster himself had announced that he won his battle. All that was left was to wait and recover. There was no more he could do.

The final knight of the day fights you, and Leon gets to watch as you spin and dodge, avoiding as many attacks as you could, wearing out your opponent before you consider using your own strength. You had been exhausting to fight simply because you had read your opponent easily. So to watch you battle in such a way was a breath of fresh air. He is capable of predicting most of your movements based on the way you spin off of your blade. In addition, the metal of your blade did not know to rust.

At the fifty-minute mark, Leon watches as you finally switch to the offensive, the knight fighting you far too exhausted to block all of the attacks, falling to his knees from exhaustion as you count down, battle declared finished just short of the one-hour mark. He knows not of the rest of the knights, but the announcer would declare the winner after a short break. Leon finally stands up, stretching as he groans, muscles decompressing as he does. It feels like heaven, and when he stretches further, he finds that he feels much better.

The rest of the knights wait anxiously, uncertain of who would win. Leon had been lucky to know the knight before him's time, but not everyone was fortunate enough to overhear such conversations. There is an eerie sense of calmness that overwhelms him when he waits, heart no longer ringing in his ears as he is gathered with the rest of the knights. When the announcement starts, he holds neither his breath nor his exhaustion. If he wins, then he wins. He must bring victory home to his master — only then would he be able to call himself yours wholeheartedly.

When his name is called, he exhales in relief, collapsing to his knees by the other knights as they cheer, and Leon feels as though he could cry. He has brought it home. He has brought you to safety. His title of grandmaster would protect both you and him from unwarranted trouble, and you would be able to use him as an excuse to not engage with other men of the nobility. He stares up at the gathering of grandmasters, eyes meeting yours as you smile at him, waving gently. He would delude himself into the idea that you are happy that he has won. Just this once, he would let himself be deluded by such useless thoughts.

The medics tend to the knights, Leon's cuts are cleaned, his wounds preserved for the knighting ceremony the next day, and he is sent back to his room for rest. He ponders over whether or not you would come visit, but he knows those are useless thoughts. You would not be able to do such a thing. If you are caught, your purity could be at risk, and he could not guarantee that the adrenaline would not drive him to do something foolish. He dares not to do something you do not wish to do, so it would be best to not put himself in a situation that could result in such. Yet, the universe has other plans.

You show up to his room in the dead of night when he wakes, blinking slowly as he stares at you.

What are you doing here? What if you are caught? He pulls you into the room with a closing of his door, heart racing in his chest. This is not alright. He needs to—

Leon has no time to think, your lips locked on his as he lets out a sound of surprise, scaring you off, causing you to start pulling away, and everything that happens next is all instinct.

Duty be dammed.

Leon chases your lips as you threaten to pull away, hand sliding to the back of your head, eyes half-lidded as he forces you against the bed, lips clashing with yours desperately as he rests you on the bed instead, neck craned down. He engulfs you in himself, your shadows disappearing in the alley as he covers you, his own head dizzy from the taste of you. Sweet as sin, he thinks. You're so sweet, his tongue against yours, smell of your perfume stuck in his lungs as he pulls away only to gasp for air before going back to you. He supposes he only has this chance to kiss you anyway, so he might as well make the most of it. Perhaps in another life, he could have you all to himself, difference in status invisible to the people. Perhaps in another life, he gets to kiss you senseless on the daily, never needing either of you to suffer to such an extent.

He lets you pull away eventually, forehead resting on your collar with an exhale, heartbeat matching yours slowly as he closes his eyes.

He has to apologize.

"I'm sorry." He slurs, breath warm against your shoulder. He should not have done that.

"Don't be."

And Leon believes you.

Leon lays bruised and battered as he has you sit on the bed, getting off of you to control himself, breathing deep as you blink at him. He wants more. He's certain you do too, but he can not give it to you. No, it would be too much. If he gives it to you now, then it would defeat the purpose of the tournament. He shall wait until the title of nobility is given to him, and then he would indulge himself — granted you would let him. He hopes you will. He doubts he will experience this level of devotion with anyone else. He would not let himself.

The moon paints your skin pale, and you stare back at him, breathing labored as you whisper.

"Who will you swear your loyalty to tomorrow?"

Leon hesitates not, blood forming from his hand, red shaping into a sword from his wounds, blinking slowly as he gets on a single knee in front of you, offering a sword of blood. He fears that you will not take it, delicate hands far too soft to touch something so ragged, but he needs you to knight him. He no longer has his blade in order to prevent treason, but he can not let himself be knighted by anyone other than you. He would rather die.

"My knight."

"Knight me, so that the emperor may not do so tomorrow." He whispers. "My loyalties lie with you, not with the king."

"My knight, I cannot—"

"I beg of you." He mumbles. "If you knight me now, the king can not knight me in the morning. You need not to get up, just... please."

You comply, red of his blade staining your hand as you stare, eyes closing as you whisper a prayer to the stars.

Leon stays staring up at you, heart racing in his chest as you stand, blade held out to one shoulder ancient chant whispered under your breath, the room filling with a golden haze as you move the blade to his other shoulder, light engulfing the room as Leon exhales,head collapsing in your lap as his blade trickles into a pool of blood at his feet, head in your lap as he rests his head. If treason would be held over his head, then so be it. He has done what he needs to. He may rest in peace now.

"Thank you."

"What will you tell the emperor?"

"I need not anything else. This was my request." He mumbles. "Stay the night."

"I cannot do that." You push his hair back, and Leon closes his eyes.

"I know."

"The emperor will have you executed for this."

"I'll run off with you." He hums. "Divine intervention. Bribe a priest."

"I can not do that, my knight." Your voice carries mirth. "And the regulations?"

"I will survive." He hums. "Clause twelve states that they are to swear their loyalty to anyone in the royal family. Considering the knowledge that you are still crown princess until the end of the competition, I have sworn my loyalty to the royal family by proxy."

"Ever the sly one, aren't you." Your fingers scratch at his scalp gently, and he hums.

"I have to. It is for you, after all."

"Then, will you have me?"

"Only if you would have me in exchange."

Leon requests that you knight him, glancing at your failed pretending to be unaffected by the emperor's expression. Yet, you step up to him anyway, taking the sword from his hand. He bows his head as he feels the blade on both sides of his shoulder, same golden haze erupting in the colosseum as the night before. Leon ponders if the emperor would truly ask him what his request would be after this. From your words, he was bound to contract to announce that you would no longer be crown princess after this.

When asked, he requests the title of Marquis. He could have been a duke if he truly wished for it, but the title of Marquis often came with no land, and he could spend the rest of his days tending to you while you managed the duchy. He stares the emperor in the eye when asking of so, and he thanks the emperor when he is granted the title. He is granted no land but a residence in the capital, and he thanks the emperor for such an act of generosity. He fakes it, but he is sure he has done an adequate job. The emperor is not doing a much better job at pretending to be thrilled by the knowledge that he has just sworn his loyalty to someone who is soon to no longer part of the royal family.

The emperor hardly hides his displeasure by Leon's choice of loyalty while announcing that you would no longer be crown princess. Some of the citizens realize it right away, but Leon could not care less. His loyalty could not be tied to the royal family, and once off the stage, he spares no extra thought, lifting you in his arms as you yelp. He carries you the whole way despite your complaints, and even when you leave, his only words are congratulatory messages, a smile on Leon's face surely foreign to your eyes. He does not ever recall smiling as brightly at any other thing.

"You smile so brightly, my knight."

"You are free from the shackles of the crown, princess." He whispers, forehead pressed to yours. "I am yours at last."

"And if I would not have you?"

"I am at your disposal regardless." He hums.

"What will the people think?"

"Do you care? Must you care? What is there to consider when I am by your side?"

He basks in the light that you shine him in, eyes closed as his heart beats against his chest. There is a sense of peace that he finds he has only with you, quiet humming of him against your skin as he feels the vibration of his voice in his chest, quiet tune hummed aimlessly as the people around him no longer register to him. You. Just you. Only you. There would be no next or if. There would only be you, and he finds that this devotion of his would be for your keeping only. With each breath he takes, all he would know is to be you. From the breath of his life to his bones that will return to dust one day, he shall be yours. That smile of you would mean far more than whatever is to come for him one day. His heart is full. That is all that matters.

"You are right, my knight."

Leon holds onto you, sun in his hair as he smiles up at you, nose pressed to yours, heart racing in his head.

He's finally yours.

[userm4x]

04/05/24, Miami. Max Verstappen prepares to drive on the pitlane prior to the F1 Miami Grand Prix 2024. Photos by Giorgio Viera, edited.

[morganbritton132]

Love the idea of Steve and Eddie being so sickening in love that Eddie calling him by his name makes Steve be like “why are you being mean”. Imagining how funny it would be if Steve was hanging out with a new friend or co worker or something at the house for the first time and Eddie comes in and is like “hey Steve” and kisses him on the cheek before introductions and obligatory “how was your day” and when Eddie leaves a couple minutes later the new friend is about to comment on how nice Steve’s husband seems when Steve turns to her and is like “I’m so so sorry you had to see that he is not usually like that he is just still pissy about (insert dumb funny thing here)”

This is cute and hilarious, and it’s so canon to this AU that it hurts. I love it so much.

I’m picturing Steve having a group of teachers over because they’re part of a committee and they’re planning an event at the school. Some of the teachers are people that Steve has known years, but the majority are people who don’t know Eddie outside of the guy that sometimes picks Steve up on bad brain days.

They’re in the thick of making posters and streamers when Eddie comes into the house, guitar case in hand from practicing at Jeff’s. He comes into the dining room where everybody is, plants a kiss on Steve’s cheek like, “Hey, Steve. Missed you.”

“Missed you more,” Steve hums back, sinking into Eddie’s side when he wraps his arm around his waist and pulls him closer.

Eddie rests his head on Steve’s shoulder and looks down at the poster he is making. It’s very glittery. He asks, “How’s it going?”

He listens attentively as Steve tells him of all they’ve accomplished and even reminds him of something that he said he wanted to do for the event and forgot about. He smiles and shakes hands when he’s introduced to other teachers and even recalls some of the things Steve told him about them.

At the ends of it, Eddie kisses Steve’s cheek again, tells him that they’re doing amazing work, and then says, “I’ve got a melody in my head, gonna go iron it out. Let me know if you need anything.”

He even says as he leaves, “Love you.”

“Love you, too,” Steve echoes back. Once the basement door closes, Steve just sighs and says so apologetically, “I’m so sorry you had to see that and if it made any of you uncomfortable. He’s not typically like that, you know. He’s just mad at me right now because I won’t walk a red carpet with him next week.”

At first everybody thinks that he’s joking but Steve looks so genuinely embarrassed that they have to believe him. Everybody is just like, “Excuse me, he’s mad at you?? He isn’t usually like that??? Meaning that he’s typically more loving and affectionate???”

Kathy, a seventh grade English teacher who shares way too much about her failing marriage, is just like, “Shoot, I can’t even get my husband to say he loves me half the time.”

“Kathy,” Steve says sincerely. “You need to divorce your husband.”

“I know.”

There’s a beat of silence before David, a newer teacher at the school, asks, “Red carpet? He is like, movie star or something?”

[stinkrascal]

standstill ; a story by stinkrascal

after stumbling upon the world of supernaturals and befriending a powerful and enigmatic vampire, she realizes the choice is simple. she could abandon her humanity, or she could go back home. and breanna realizes, more than anything, that she can never go back home.

31/01/2024

[canisalbus]

Just wanted to say I'm really happy that you have shared so much about your characters! I've been following you for a long while now, and I think I remember your post expressing worry about talking about your characters. After seeing all the love shown to them, it makes me happy that you decided to!

Aaa thank you for your kind words! ;-;

[22.7. Editing these here]

[feathercreates]

"Even the mightiest SOLDIERs take naps!" - Angeal Hewley

In which Angeal captures a moment too rare to miss between his friends on their way to a mission somewhere.

could this also be useful as blackmail? probably XD