#especially since i don’t even have any of the fourth chapter written

[thefloatingwriter]

shit i haven’t updated my stanbrough social media fic in more than a week

probs should do that

[levisjinchuriki]

forever yours - chapter 6

summary: you’re faced with questions about your relationship while trying to celebrate haru’s birthday 

warning: fluff, confrontation, angst, slow burn, mentions of nanami and mei mei

word count: 4.9k

a/n: this is the second part of the double upload tonight. i think this is the longest chapter i've ever written. i hope you enjoy!!

planning haru’s fourth birthday becomes a focal point for you and gojo. you spend your evenings texting back and forth, discussing the theme, the guest list, and the activities that will keep a group of energetic four-year-olds entertained. it feels surprisingly natural, like slipping into a well-worn routine, even though it’s been months since you and gojo have done anything like this together.

gojo calls you one night to finalize the plans. you both get lost in the details, bouncing ideas off each other until you’re sure you’ve covered every detail. it feels… good. comfortable. and you’re grateful he’s being so involved. 

you mention that you’re planning to invite haru’s whole class, along with any parents who want to join the celebration. it’s a standard move, but gojo's curiosity turns to the guest list for the people who are closer to both of you—family and close friends.

“i’ve been thinking about that…” you begin hesitantly. “i’m a little hesitant to tell people about what’s going on”.

the silence stretches, filled with unspoken understanding. finally, he speaks, his tone gentle and reassuring. “you don’t have to tell anyone anything if you’re not ready,” he says gently. “we can keep the details to ourselves for now”.

his words offer a surprising comfort. gojo’s patience and understanding make it easier to navigate the uncertainty of sharing personal information, especially when the situation is still evolving.

“i appreciate that” you reply, your voice carrying a touch of gratitude. “i just want to focus on making haru’s birthday special without having to explain everything”

“let’s keep things simple and make sure haru has a fantastic birthday. we’ll deal with the rest as it comes” he says. his calm assurance settles over you, easing some of the tension you’ve been holding. you find solace in his commitment to prioritize haru’s happiness, allowing you to set aside worries about other people's judgments or expectations for now. 

since you’re being honest, you mention nanami stopping by the other day, too. he’s going to be at the party and it’s only right to warn gojo that he isn’t his biggest fan at the moment. he was never gojo’s biggest fan to begin with.

“kento came over the other day” you say. gojo waits for you to continue, not wanting to jump to conclusions. “he was asking about us, but i didn’t say much. just want to give you a heads-up, so you’re prepared”

gojo’s silence on the other end of the line is brief but thoughtful. “kento’s protective of you, so i understand why he’d ask. it’s probably for the best that you’re keeping things simple for no”.

“yeah, i agree,” you say. “it’s just... i felt like i was walking a tightrope, trying not to reveal too much but still being honest enough to not cause concern.”

“he’ll understand” gojo reassures you. “it’s not easy navigating all this. but we’ll figure it out”

the reassurance in his words calms you. “thank you,” you say softly. “i don’t want to invite unnecessary stress right now. haru’s birthday should be about him, not about our situation”

“agreed,” gojo replies. “we’ll keep the focus where it belongs– on making sure haru has an amazing day. everything else can wait”

his words bring a sense of clarity and calm. gojo’s right- the decision to keep things quiet, to take one step at a time, is something only you and satoru have to understand. there’s no rush, no need to force anything. for now, it’s enough that you’re both trying. that’s all that matters.

—

the backyard is bustling with color and excitement: balloons bobbing in the gentle breeze, a table laid out with treats and snacks, and a bounce house for the kids to play in. the decorations are all in place, and the games are set up, promising hours of fun for the kids.

gojo arrived early to help with the setup. his effort to ensure everything was perfect adds to the sense of teamwork and shared responsibility that you both strive for. 

as you arrange the last of haru’s presents and dress him in his party outfit, you feel a swell of pride. haru looks adorable, his eyes wide with excitement as he takes in the festive atmosphere. 

you catch glimpses of him darting around with his friends as guests start to arrive, laughter and cheers filling the air. watching haru enjoy himself fills you with a profound sense of accomplishment. as you take a moment to observe the scene, you realize that, for now, this is enough. the effort you’ve both put in to make this day memorable reflects the shared love and dedication you have for haru. the day is a success in its own right, and that’s what matters most.

guests continue to fill the backyard. you find yourself flitting around like a hummingbird, attending to every small detail with a sense of urgency and precision. you catch yourself straightening the tablecloth for the third time, adjusting the streamers hanging above the patio to ensure they hang at the perfect angle, and making sure the snack table is fully stocked and inviting. each adjustment, each small correction, feels crucial to achieving a sense of order and perfection.

despite the busyness, there’s a part of you that’s acutely aware of the weight you’re carrying—the subtle pressure to create a flawless celebration while managing the delicate dynamics of your current situation with gojo. you want everything to be perfect, not just for haru, but also to create a momentary bubble where the complexities of life can be set aside. and a part of you wants to show the people closest to you that you’re doing okay. the effort to maintain this façade is as much about your own reassurance as it is about others’ perceptions. you want to be seen as someone who’s managing, who’s moving forward, and who can still experience happiness.

you hear haru’s excited squeal and turn to see his tiny legs carrying him across the yard with boundless energy. his eyes light up the moment he spots his uncle walking into the backyard. 

“nami! you came!” haru’s voice rings out with pure excitement as he charges forward, arms outstretched.

kento crouches down, catching haru in a big hug as he reaches him. the warmth in his eyes as he embraces his nephew eases your tension. 

“of course i came. i wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world,” kento says kindly, a soft smile tugging at his lips. his eyes crinkle with affection as he holds haru close. “are you having fun?”.

“yeah!” haru exclaims, practically bouncing in kento’s arms. “there’s cake and games, and mommy said there’s gonna be presents later!”.

nanami chuckles, setting haru back down. “sounds like you’re having a great time,” he says, his voice warm.

haru beams up at him, his excitement contagious. “come play with us! we’re about to start another game!”. haru’s small hand wraps around his uncle’s index finger, tugging him eagerly toward the other kids.

nanami glances at you and offers a quick greeting. “everything looks great,” he says, acknowledging your efforts before letting haru pull him away. his presence, steady and calm, brings a sense of normalcy to the day, easing some of the tension you’ve been carrying.

as you watch them join in the fun, you smile at the sight of haru’s joy. his uncle’s arrival has clearly made his day even more special, and seeing nanami so naturally fall into the role of the doting uncle warms your heart. it’s moments like these that remind you how important family is, and how much support you truly have, even when things feel uncertain.

your mother’s voice fills your ears as you turn to give her a hug. she carries a note of surprise as she greets you, her eyes widening slightly. “satoru is here?” she asks, her tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of concern.

you take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure. “yes, he’s here” you reply, offering a casual smile. you sense the questions brewing behind her eyes, but you decide not to elaborate. “it’s haru’s day. we both want to be here for him”. 

your mother’s expression shifts to one of guarded interest. she’s aware of the separation and the challenges it brought. gojo’s presence at haru’s birthday party is unexpected to her, but she remains polite.

you choose to keep the details of your situation to yourself, understanding that this is not the time for in-depth explanations. instead, you gently steer the conversation toward the party’s details, discussing how much haru is enjoying his special day.

—-

as the time for everyone to sing “happy birthday” approaches, the excitement among the guests builds. the sun has set, casting a darkness over the yard, and gojo makes sure to turn on the string lights, their warm glow softly illuminating the backyard. it looks perfect.

haru stands in front of his birthday cake with wide eyes, ready for the big moment. the cake, decorated with bright colors and whimsical designs, reflects the festive spirit of his fourth birthday, a day he’ll surely remember.

you glance around at the circle of smiling faces—family, friends, and gojo, all gathered to celebrate your son. it’s nice to have this moment with everyone. just a few months ago, you didn’t think you’d be here, sharing this joy.

everyone begins to sing "happy birthday" in unison. haru beams as he looks at the flickering candles, his excitement barely contained. gojo crouches beside him, a proud smile on his face, and you watch with a mix of pride and nostalgia. the warmth of the moment wraps around you like a comforting embrace, filling your heart with a deep sense of contentment.

as the song ends, haru claps his hands and giggles, and everyone cheers. with a deep breath, and some help from his dad, he leans forward and blows out the candles. everyone erupts in applause and cheers, celebrating this small but significant milestone in his life.

gojo places his hands on top of haru’s smaller ones as they hold the knife to cut the first slice. he leans close to haru, whispering something in his ear and haru nods eagerly, his eyes lighting up with understanding. after placing the first slice of cake on a paper plate, haru holds it up.

“for mommy!” he announces, offering you the slice with a bright smile. your eyebrows raise in surprise; usually, the birthday boy gets the first slice of cake.

“oh, thank you, baby,” you say, taking the plate from his small hands and smoothing back his hair affectionately. haru beams with pride, happy to have made you smile.

gojo praises him, his voice warm and encouraging, before turning to serve pieces to the guests. he glances over at you, his gaze soft and supportive. it’s a silent reassurance, a reminder that he’s here for haru—and for you. the shared look lingers for a moment, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond that remains between you, no matter how complicated things may be. 

you take a moment to savor the sight of haru enjoying his birthday, his laughter filling the air as he eagerly grabs a slice of cake. the joy in his eyes makes all the effort worthwhile, and you’re grateful for the support gojo is providing.

after everyone’s had their slice of cake, you join them in eating. it’s good—funfetti flavor with frosting and sprinkles, haru’s favorite. you can tell by the way the icing is messily smeared on his chubby cheeks, a telltale sign of his enthusiasm. gojo chuckles at the sight, his laughter light and genuine, before leaning in to wipe haru clean with a napkin.

once haru’s face is free of frosting, gojo helps him finish the rest of his slice, guiding the fork to his mouth with the same tenderness he shows in everything he does with your son. the scene fills you with a warm sense of contentment, a reminder that, despite everything, these small, precious moments of family togetherness still exist.

when you’re done with your slice, you start going around to collect the dirty plates and utensils, ready to toss them away. as you’re tidying up, one of haru’s friend's moms approaches you with a friendly smile.

“this has been a great party. thank you for inviting us,” she says kindly. you thank her for coming and express how happy you are that everyone has had a great time tonight. the two of you chat for a while, making friendly conversation, before she changes the subject.

“you should get a picture with haru and your husband,” she suggests warmly. “it’s not every day you have such a big celebration!”.

you hesitate for a second, glancing over at gojo, who’s currently helping haru with one of his birthday presents. husband is a name you haven’t used for gojo in a long time and it catches you off guard for a second. the idea of taking a picture together, as a family, feels like stepping into dangerous territory, especially in front of everyone—close friends and family who are more aware of your situation than the other parents here. but when you see the joy on haru’s face as he tears into his gifts, you can’t bring yourself to refuse.

“sure,” you agree, not making an effort to correct her. “that sounds nice.”

you call gojo, who looks up and nods, making his way over with haru in tow. he effortlessly scoops up your son, placing him on his hip, and the three of you gather close together, slightly away from everyone else.

the mom raises your phone, her finger hovering over the button. “okay, everyone smile!” she says cheerfully.

you and gojo lean in slightly, both of you instinctively placing a hand on haru’s back to steady him. haru, caught up in the excitement of the moment, beams up at the camera, his bright smile making your heart swell with pride. you both give your best smile, capturing a moment that, despite everything, feels like a brief return to what once was.

the mom suggests another one for good measure. just as the photo is about to be taken, gojo glances at you, his gaze soft. the warmth in his eyes catches you off guard, and for a moment, you forget about everything else—the uncertainty, the fear, the complicated web of emotions you’ve been trying to navigate. in that split second, it’s just the three of you, captured in a moment of happiness.

the camera clicks, and the moment is frozen in time.

the mom hands you the phone to check the picture. the image is perfect: haru’s wide grin, gojo’s gentle expression, and your own smile, which, despite everything, looks genuinely happy. it’s a beautiful capture of a moment that feels both precious and fleeting.

“thank you,” you say to her, your voice soft with gratitude. the small gesture of kindness means a lot, and the photos are a reminder of the joy that still exists in these moments of togetherness.

“anytime,” she replies with a smile before walking away.

as you look at the photo again, gojo leans over, peeking at the screen. “that’s a nice one,” he comments, his tone light but sincere.

you nod, still processing the flood of feelings the picture stirs within you. “yeah, it is,” you murmur.

the rest of the party goes by in a blur of games, cake, and laughter, but the image stays with you—an unexpected reminder that, despite everything, there’s still something strong and unbreakable between you and gojo. 

—

as the party winds down and guests start to mingle in smaller groups, you find yourself momentarily alone, tidying up. out of the corner of your eye, you see mei mei approaching, her sharp eyes fixed on you with a curiosity that makes you instantly wary.

“looks like the party was a success” she remarks casually, leaning against the table with a cup of lemonade in hand. “haru seems like he had a great time”. 

you smile politely, nodding. “yeah, he did. i’m really happy he’s had such a nice day”.

mei mei’s gaze lingers on you for a moment before she continues. “it seems like you and satoru managed to pull it off together pretty well. you two looked quite... cozy taking that picture earlier”.

you look around to make sure no one is listening before meeting her gaze, trying to keep your expression neutral. “yes, we did” you reply, choosing your words carefully. “it was important to us that haru had a special day”.

mei mei raises an eyebrow, her tone shifting slightly. “i can see that. it’s nice to see you both putting your differences aside for him. it must be quite the balancing act”. her comment is insightful but also probing, making you feel a bit defensive. 

you stiffen slightly at her accusation, trying to keep your expression neutral. “we’re just doing what’s best for haru”.

“of course” she agrees. “so… how are things with you and gojo?”. her tone is light, but you can sense the underlying tone of curiosity. mei mei has always been able to read people well, and you know she’s not asking just for the sake of conversation.

you hesitate, trying to keep your expression neutral. “things are fine” you reply, hoping to keep the conversation short.

“fine?” she repeats, raising an eyebrow. “i thought you two were in the process of getting divorced”. her gaze is piercing as she studies your reaction. “i couldn’t help but notice he’s still wearing his wedding ring. that’s a bit unusual given the circumstances, no?”.

your heart skips a beat, but you quickly mask your discomfort with a practiced smile. “it’s... complicated” you say, hoping to end the conversation there.

mei mei huns. “complicated, huh? are you two really going through with it, or is there something else going on?”. she sips her drink, her eyes never leaving yours.

you give her a look, feeling cornered by her questions. “mei mei” you warn, wanting her to drop it. “let’s not get into this right now”.

she’s clearly unconvinced but doesn’t push further. “i see” she says, drawing out the words as if she’s filing away the information for later. “well, i hope you know what you’re doing. you wouldn’t want to end up back where you started, right?”.

the comment stings more than you expect, and you swallow the urge to react defensively. “thanks for your concern, mei mei” you say politely, trying to steer the conversation to a close. “but we’re handling it”.

she gives you a small smile, sensing your discomfort. “of course. i’m always here if you need to talk”. with that, she walks away.

you take a deep breath, the conversation leaving you feeling uneasy. the encounter with mei mei has stirred up lingering doubts and uncertainties, and her words echo in your mind as you return to tidying up. 

—

gojo experiences a confrontation of his own. he finds himself near the edge of the party, away from the noise. nanami approaches him quietly and the two men stand together for a moment in a tense silence.

“satoru” he greets, his tone neutral but edged with a hint of caution. “it’s been a while”.

gojo glances at nanami, recognizing the underlying tension. “yeah, it has” he replies, his tone equally guarded. the space between them feels charged, both men aware of the strained dynamics due to recent events. “how is everything?” he asks, in an attempt to make conversation. 

nanami’s eyes narrow slightly. “everything’s fine. haru’s having a great time, which is what matters today”.

gojo’s expression softens slightly as he watches haru play with the other kids. “i’m happy i could be here with him” he says honestly, his gaze reflecting a rare moment of vulnerability.

nanami’s jaw clenches, his frustration barely contained. despite his usual professionalism, the personal stakes make it harder for him to stay restrained. “you know…” nanami says quietly but firmly, “it’s not just about showing up. it’s about being consistent and reliable. haru deserves more than just occasional appearances. being here now doesn’t erase the past. you’ve caused a lot of pain”.

nanami’s words surprise gojo, but he remains neutral. 

“i know i have” gojo responds, his tone steady but weighed down by the seriousness of the conversation. “i’m aware of my mistakes”.

nanami’s gaze sharpens, his frustration evident. “mistakes? you’ve done more than just make mistakes. you’ve hurt my sister, and she’s had to deal with that while taking care of your son” he says, his tone accusatory.

gojo meets nanami’s intense scrutiny with a steady gaze. “i’m aware of how much i’ve hurt her. i’m not asking for immediate forgiveness or trust. all i can offer is my commitment to change”.

nanami crosses his arms, his eyes never leaving gojo’s. “commitment isn’t just words. it’s actions. how can you be trusted to not slip back into old habits? you’ve promised change before, and it didn’t stick”.

gojo’s jaw tightens, but he maintains his composure. he respects your request to keep your relationship under wraps for now, but it stings to hear such harsh words thrown at him.

nanami’s points hit close to home, acknowledging the rift that was caused by his previous failures. the frustration and disappointment in nanami’s eyes are palpable, a reminder of the long road ahead.

“i understand” gojo says, his voice steady but low. “i’m not asking for blind trust. i know that earning it back will take more than just words. i’m making an effort to be present, to work on my issues, and to be a better person and father. it’s not going to be perfect, but i’m committed to doing better”.

nanami’s gaze remains cautious. “and what about her feelings? how are you addressing her concerns and the impact your actions have had on her?”.

gojo reflects on the weight of nanami’s words. “i’ve been working to listen more, to be more present for her. it’s a process, and i know i need to keep proving myself”.

nanami remains skeptical. “there needs to be a sustained effort, not just promises. my sister deserves that”.

gojo meets nanami’s intense gaze with a deep sense of resolve. “i understand. i’m prepared to show that effort and to earn back her trust. it’s not something i take lightly”.

nanami studies gojo’s face for a long moment before giving a slow, reluctant nod. as nanami walks away, gojo takes a deep breath, the conversation having tested his resolve but also reinforcing his commitment to making things right. the interaction with nanami has been intense, but it’s a necessary step in proving his sincerity and dedication to repairing the relationship with you. 

—

by the time the last guest leaves, you’re utterly spent. the effort to ensure every detail of haru’s birthday was perfect has taken its toll, and you finally feel the weight of exhaustion settle over you as you sit on the couch.

the house is littered with the remnants of the celebration—crumpled wrapping paper, half-empty plates, and scattered balloons. the once lively atmosphere has faded, leaving behind a stillness that contrasts sharply with the earlier excitement. you glance around at the aftermath, feeling both a sense of accomplishment and the heaviness of fatigue. the joy of haru’s birthday was worth it, but the day’s demands have left you feeling drained.

gojo, noticing your weariness, sits beside you. “you did an amazing job today” he says softly, offering a comforting smile. “haru had a great time”.

you manage a tired smile, grateful for his presence and support. “you deserve some credit, too. thanks for being here” you reply, appreciating his kind words. he hums, letting a moment pass before speaking again. 

“you know, kento really hates me,” he says with an almost rueful laugh. 

you look at him, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “he can be a bit... protective,” you admit, recognizing that his comment acknowledges the tension while also trying to lighten the mood.

gojo’s expression softens as he looks at you. “i understand why he’s cautious. i haven’t exactly given him a reason to like me recently”.

you sigh and nod. “it’s been complicated. i’m sorry if he was hard on you”.

gojo shakes his head. “i get it. but, i’m willing to prove to him that i’m serious about making things right”. despite the challenges and the scrutiny from your family, gojo’s commitment to making amends gives you a renewed sense of determination.

you look over at haru, who has fallen asleep on the other side of the couch. his tiny form is nestled into the cushions. his chest rises and falls with each peaceful breath. as you gaze at him, memories flood back—snapshots of his growth, milestones, and moments that have defined his early years.

“i can’t believe he’s four already,” you say, your voice a mix of disbelief and nostalgia. a smile tugs at your lips as you watch him, the weight of time’s passage settling over you.

gojo looks at haru with a soft, affectionate gaze. “he’s growing up fast”.

your smile is tinged with both happiness and a touch of sadness. “i remember when we first brought him home from the hospital” you say softly, more to yourself than to gojo. “he was so tiny, so fragile. i used to worry about every little thing”.

gojo chuckles softly. “and now look at him. running around, full of energy and curiosity. it’s incredible how quickly they grow up”.

you nod in agreement. “it feels like just yesterday we were learning how to navigate parenthood together. and now, he’s this little person with his own thoughts and ideas”. there’s a nostalgic tone in your voice. “i think back to all those late-night feedings, the first steps, the way he would look up at us with such trust. it’s amazing how much has changed in such a short time”.

gojo’s gaze softens, reflecting on those shared moments. “we’ve had so many firsts with him. it’s been a whirlwind, but it’s been worth every minute”.

you sigh, a hint of sadness in your voice. “sometimes i wonder where the time has gone. it feels like it’s slipping through my fingers so quickly. i wish i could hold onto these moments just a little longer”.

gojo nods, a gentle smile playing on his lips. “i know what you mean. we’ve made so many wonderful memories together, and we still have so many more to make”.

you look at gojo, seeing the hope in his eyes. “yes, we do. i want to make sure we’re there for every step of the way, for him and for us”. gojo’s smile widens, touched by your words. he wants that, too.

“by the way, what did you say to haru after he blew out his candles?” you ask curiously.

gojo’s ears turn red. “i told him to give the first slice to the person he loves most,” he says softly. his eyes, reflecting a deep tenderness, meet yours and hold a gaze that makes your heart flutter. it’s as if he’s offering a piece of his own affection through his words.

a blush makes its way to your cheeks. “that was really sweet of you” your voice soft with genuine appreciation. the significance of the moment isn’t lost on you, and you share a warm, appreciative look with gojo. haru’s thoughtful act, prompted by his father, is a sweet reminder of the love and connection that still lingers between you all, despite everything.

after a moment, gojo notices your exhaustion and stands. “why don’t you rest on the couch for a bit? you’ve worked hard today. i’ll handle the cleanup”. you open your mouth to protest, but a yawn escapes you, and you realize how tired you truly are. the thought of resting your eyes, even for a short while, feels too good to resist. 

“okay” you mumble, making yourself more comfortable. “thank you”.

gojo hums and begins tidying up, his movements efficient and unhurried. he clears away the remnants of the party—plates, cups, and leftover cake. his actions are steady, almost soothing, as he handles the tasks with practiced ease.

you scoot behind haru, wrapping a protective arm around him so he doesn’t fall. the warmth of the couch, combined with the comfort of the day’s end, lulls you into a sense of relaxation. it’s not long before your eyelids grow heavy. the gentle rise and fall of haru’s breathing and the soft hum of gojo’s movements in the background create a cocoon of peace, and before you know it, you’re drifting off.

it takes a while, but gojo finally finishes cleaning up the last of the mess, making sure everything is in its place. he moves quietly as he puts away the final items. when he’s satisfied that the space is back to its usual order, he takes a moment to glance over at you and haru.

his heart swells at the sight of both of you resting so peacefully. he takes a nearby blanket and drapes it over the both of you, before bending down to place a gentle kiss on both of your foreheads. the touch is tender, a silent promise of care and commitment. 

with a final, lingering look, gojo turns off the lights, casting the room in a soft, tranquil darkness.

he quietly leaves the house, making sure to lock the few door behind him. as gojo heads to his own place, the quiet satisfaction of having cared for the evening’s needs settles over him, knowing that despite the challenges, moments like these—shared in peace and tenderness—are the foundation on which new beginnings are built.

---

ch 7>>

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ thank you for reading!! everyone is welcome to leave feedback and requests in my inbox!! please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

(tagging some people who liked the previous chapter. plz lmk if you want to be removed <3)

@tardis-23 @clearlysworld @sloppynatoppy @shaytoru @concealedeuphoria @svt-backup @padmaaaa @gojosatorumyoneandonly @satoru2716 @eldweiss @luvuyuuji @dark-agate @gojolovrrrr @wysefyre @s-x-m-m-y @jeankirsteinwh3re @funkyotaku7 @um-no-ok @ghostlymilkshakeglitter @domilovestoru @pepperyduck @celestialgojo @smolpotatosstuff @sanriovin @himi009 @yourpalheapass @scgsposts @gojoswaterbottle @sasukun @meforpr3sident @lady-of-blossoms @readingfan @pastelchan94 @luns-exlipse @devils-blackrose @gallifreyansunsets @ekaterinatepes @kkshahrewar @megumisthirdog @cherryblossomfox @kalopsia-flaneur  @mangomagiii @junslay @bokuatsubro @toujours-black @xmendi @rohann-s @paleprofessorbatdragon @shaytoru @lunaauroraheart21 @purehearttt @urmoonlightbebe

[vasito-de-leche]

A short (or not) ramble of scenarios and questions for reverse: 1999 self aware. (sorry if this bothers you, I just don’t have enough confidence to post it on my own blog (plus I love your content))

- Okay so first of all, in the main page of the game, when you click on the upper left corner with your level and username, you go to a screen with Vertin looking fly as ever along with some user information.

So if Vertin can see the game’s ui, then she can see the year in which the player has joined the game (2023-2024). I haven’t dived deep into Vertin’s character so I can’t portray her reaction to much, but I feel like she would tell this info to someone close like Sonetto.

Also our motto: I put “When in a rush, say ‘runs in high heels cutely.’”. I’d be so embarrassed if anyone (even fictional sentient characters) saw that. Like im dead.

On that topic, when you mentioned in your Sonetto self aware post that she can sometimes see us, and honestly, I’d be even more embarrassed. Cause like, if any of the characters from games I played, were sentient and could see me, id pray they didn’t see my bad angle. Like imagine looking up to the sky to see, just for a second, the chin of a head as the hands go to scratch their nose. Like the first impressions I would make.

- P2p players. Imagine the player spending money on the game (at the risk of Vertin possibly seeing their credit card number) to help level up or get costumes for their fave characters.

(Some misc. questions)

-what would happen if player didn’t log in the game for a while (a week to a month as best) cause I would ditch some games to spend more time on others

- What does Vertin think of the mail messages that the player gets? Like the latest mail I got was the discord event invitation. Upon closer inspection and critical thinking, it would hint that there would be more players other than us because it says the winners get 60 clear drops (oh and money too)

- If I remember correctly, I think you mentioned about Vertin hearing the player sometimes. So imagine her hearing us trash talk certain character *cough* Constantine *cough*.

(Anyways, I love your content ❤️ especially your fmn headcanons, can’t wait to see more posts!!)

;R1999 - Self-Aware AU (2)

Answering some questions and discussing the Self-Aware AU. A follow up of this post.

not a bother at all, you bring up really good questions and details that are fun to explore! I'm glad you like my stuff, have a nice day o7!

On the subject of Vertin seeing the player's profile.

With the way I intended to portray Vertin within the AU, I don't think she would be affected by the date on the Player's profile!

This is the date you came into contact with her from your perspective, whatever time and space that flows within your world, not hers─the world behind the fourth barrier that she cannot see nor hear nor even fathom, let alone try to make sense of. In a way, it's like expecting ants to care about concepts we made up, such as time. They understand night and day, they do not understand 3PM nor 8AM.

Is it truly proof that time can go beyond 1999, when this is something that only she can see? When it doesn't affect a single thing within her universe by being part of a game menu meant for your eyes only? There's also the fact that she finds out the proper time of the world in the 1.4 update, in Chapter 05.

Her dynamic with the Player is something I like to keep vague, so that everyone can fill in the blanks, but ultimately it is something so complex and private for Vertin─who sees it as a one-sided relationship, since she cannot hear nor see you, unlike other arcanists who may reach the 100% bond─that I don't think she would talk about it with anyone, not even Sonetto! The name on your profile and whatever message you've written there are secrets she will take to her grave. The idea of Vertin being the eyes and hands of the Player, but having no way to truly see or hear them makes for a really fun concept to explore!

And on the subject of messages, let's be honest, if you've written something funny or some modern shitpost, chances are she won't understand it LMFAO so it's okay! I literally just have my socials and "men enjoyer" listed there.

Oh! But since you brought it up, the message section could be a fun, little way to communicate with Vertin, since she can read what's on there!

As for P2P players, Vertin wouldn't see any information from the Player's credit card since that's something that happens outside the app lolol. Like, to me, it directly opens to google play transaction stuff.

On the subject of the player dropping the game for long periods of time.

Hmm, in the first post I said that there might be characters ouside Vertin and her suitcase who may be self-aware, with their own goals and such. But nothing truly "matters" unless the Player is there to witness it. So to keep including these possibilities and details, I feel like there's two options, pick whichever you like the most!

One, time continues as usual within the game─but once it reaches an important date where the plot is meant to kick in with some important event, it simply resets back to where you left it. This is a world that exists outside of your perception, but cannot continue without you.

Two, time freezes entirely within the game─but only for those who are not self-aware. Keep in mind we're talking about long periods of time, this wouldn't happen if you log in every day, or every few days. This is what happens when your phone picks up the fact that Reverse: 1999 is one of the unused apps taking up space in your phone. This is a world that stops existing once you stop looking at it.

In both options, the Wilderness would remain unaffected as it seems to be entirely disconnected from the flow of time and space outside of it.

On the subject of the game's mail.

Since the messages auto-delete and all, I can't check but I'm pretty sure Vertin receives mail too? There were a few ones from a few characters a while back like Druvis III or An-an Lee, and I think the implication is that they were vaguely addressing Vertin?

If someone has screenshots and can confirm this, please let me know!

Either way, the easy answer is that yeah, she knows this is a game, so she could make the assumption that there's more players. She has access to your friend list, after all! And even if you don't have anyone added, the fact that it exists is enough for her to start connecting the dots.

I don't remember saying that Vertin can hear the Player, though! I think I was pretty consistent with her not being able to see nor hear you, to have the Player as some sort of eldritch, unknowable entity. But I also write so much stuff in this blog that it's hard to keep up sometimes lolol, if I've mentioned somewhere that Vertin can hear the player, it was a mistake!

[heartkyeom]

now or never pt. 5 (finale)

xu minghao x fem!reader

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (finale)

word count: 12.3k

synopsis: when you make a chance encounter with your ex, you end up saying that you're engaged to your estranged neighbor xu minghao. when you find out your ex is coming to your friend's wedding, you've only got a month to become a convincing couple.

warnings: cursing, oral sex, slight dumbification, alcohol, asshole ex!joshua, fighting, mostly domestic shit idk lmao

notes: after 5 months of restarting and almost giving up on this chapter entirely, the now or never series is complete. thank you all for loving this story so much, now or never is unlike anything I've ever written and I am so happy that it's finally done. I was scared that making the story so simple would turn people away, but I am grateful for all the support! shoutout to @maijunejuly + @flowerwonu for supporting this story so much <3 and thank you all for loving these two and watching them fall in love! I hope this is a satisfying ending, longtime readers I'm giving you a big smooch on the cheek

taglist: @kwonranghae @butterfliesinthenightsky @sugarrimajins @cosmicwintr @lztespring @justasoftstan @lilactangerine @jeongiegram @hoohoohope @trashygigi @itzelise06 @bonsaijoons @playboygeniusphilanthropist @thedeeppoet @mo-onlar @kyoko-22 @thesunsfullmoon @jungish @twancingyunhao @knucklesdeepmingi @crystal-phoenix-and-silver-fox @jaehyunfilms @awyunh @fiantomartell @milk-leaves @junoluvr @rhia-clyde

The morning of the wedding is particularly quiet in your shared hotel room. Since the wedding didn’t start until later that afternoon, it gave both of you an opportunity to settle into the day.

Thus, you’re not rushing out of bed, you’re interested in watching the sunlight filter through the curtains instead, insisting on letting yourself wake up slowly. You eventually turn your attention to your lover who is still sleeping peacefully beside you. You decide to stir up some movement with slow touches to his hair, trying not to move too harshly against his skin. 

He replies with a soft hum, idly turning his head towards you. His eyes are still closed though, it seems like a silent invitation for you to keep going. 

You decide to kick it up a notch with a few kisses along the side of his face, you feel his cheeks pull into a smile from the contact and you launch into giggles, resting your head on his neck.

“Well, good morning,” His voice is raspy in the way you love it, right on the edge of sleep. 

“Good morning,” You reply, you can’t help but kiss his neck and he lets out a gentle sigh.

“Big day, huh?” He asks softly. The anticipation stirs in your chest, but truthfully a medley of emotions seems to swarm there. 

You hum in confirmation, but it wasn’t your big day, not by any stretch of the imagination. Yet, your mind tries to play out all possible outcomes to the evening’s events due to your anxiety.

First, you could confront Joshua, verbally or physically, but likely the former since you don’t want to be kicked out of the wedding over him. You could approach him or he could come to you, it’s a matter of how the events unfold. 

Second, he could try to initiate confrontation, but you could refuse to engage. You could argue it’s not the time or place to hash out personal drama, especially not at a friend’s wedding, which would be correct. Sure, there would be about 100 other guests there and the booming music could cover up the conflict so seamlessly that no one is made aware of the situation, but you fear that it’s not worth the risk.

Third, you could end up avoiding each other altogether. Again, there were enough people attending that you could somehow not cross paths the entire night. This was the most likely option, as you probably wouldn’t muster up the courage to do anything. The tension would remain unaddressed and you’d likely still have a good night watching your friend get married, bolstered by free alcohol and Minghao’s companionship.

Fourth, the entirely fantastical option, Minghao would confront Joshua himself.

The odds are quite slim, but Minghao might not have the patience to engage in Joshua’s fake niceties. You don’t think it would turn physical, but Joshua would likely leave with his feelings hurt. Although you’ve never been caught in the crossfire of Minghao’s anger, it was best to avoid this option if at all possible. 

He adjusts himself so that he’s partially sitting up against the headboard of the bed, his eyes meeting yours. “Are you feeling okay about everything?” He inquires with a slight raise of his eyebrows.

“I am. Are you?”

“Yeah. Whatever you want to do, I’m fine with that,” He offers. Minghao had been quite compliant with your feelings about the situation in the past month, enough that it wasn’t surprising that he’d go full throttle on Joshua if needed. 

“So if I ask you to beat him up, you’ll do it?”

“Not sure about that,” he scoffs, “but if you want to escalate things, I’m fully supportive.” 

You nod to yourself in satisfaction, it was enough to push the fears to the back of your mind temporarily.

He ended up getting out of bed before you, of course, but you’re up soon enough, the both of you naturally weaving between each other to get ready for the morning. Before going to bed last night, you both agreed to ditch the hotel breakfast in favor of exploring the local restaurants in order to maximize your vacation time. 

You both settle on a seaside cafe with sweeping windows that overlook the coveted ocean, the main attraction of the small town. It’s not as busy as you expected, but there’s still lots of movement once you arrive. The combination of patrons talking over pastries with hot drinks, baristas manning the noisy coffee machines, and the indie pop music in the background are all just tolerable enough to make the venture outside of the hotel worth it.

You decide to indulge in chocolate chip pancakes while he opts for oatmeal with assorted berries on top. While eating across from him, it occurs to you that being out with Minghao in public is still such a foreign sensation.

The past month of getting to know him had been so insular, so concentrated on the apartment complex that you were almost enveloped in the relationship completely, it almost felt suspicious for it to exist in the real world.

Sure, you’ve been out in public together numerous times.

Yet, there’s a way his eyes fixed on yours, the way he dissolved into giggles just from looking at you. When you ask him what’s wrong, he just shakes his head and looks down at his plate again, but you’re sure it’s love.

His hands aren’t hesitant when they grab yours out of habit, forcing you to place down your fork.

He plants kisses on the back of your hands, insisting that he had to do it right that second. Yet, he concedes by feeding you a few bites of your pancakes.

You’re sure it’s love by the way you move his hair out of his eyes, you call him handsome when he least expects it just to see the blush creep onto his cheeks.

It was a quiet yet showy affection all at the same time. There was a silent sense that you were both waiting to change the trajectory of your relationship, but you decided it can’t happen in the café.

As you finish the meal and the check is handled, it’s back to holding hands with a tight grip, barely restraining your romantic thoughts through such a simple gesture.

The walk back to the hotel is once again quite short, but any moment spent with Minghao felt worthy of experiencing.

—

“Can you zip me up?” 

“Of course,” Minghao is behind your back before you can get the question out, hands gently tugging up the black zipper. The late morning had slowly spun into the afternoon and he decided it would be best to start getting ready earlier rather than later.

You aren’t in a position to argue, seeing as your routines took a considerable amount of time no matter how formal or casual an event was. You figure it’s just him accounting for the inevitable second-guessing about accessories or the possible existential dread about attending the wedding altogether. 

Your dress is still incredibly bold, you think to yourself as you study your figure in the mirror. Minghao decided to make you a matching pair of gloves that only emphasized the beauty of the look.

“You look so beautiful,” He emphasizes it with a gentle kiss on the lips, craning his neck slightly to meet your face.

“Thank you,” You reach up to cradle his head and turn him toward the mirror. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” You tease, but it was a complete understatement. He was nearly done getting ready by the time he walked over to see you, but his black suit made him look even more handsome than you expected. 

He opted for his regular middle part, letting his shaggy black hair hang in front of his eyes. You asked him a few days ago if he wanted to get it cut for the wedding, but he knew you liked it too much to do anything. 

“Let me see your piercings,” You touched his ear and he moved to reveal the few pieces of silver jewelry that led down the shell of his ear. His piercings are something you always forget are there until he tucks a piece of hair behind his ear, but he lets you pick out the set he would wear today.  

“Gorgeous,” you affirm with a kiss on the cheek. 

“Do you have everything in your bag?” He gestures toward the desk, it currently has too many things strewn across it in your efforts to get ready.

“Shit,” You rush over to fill your clutch with the essentials you needed for the night and he laughs at your frantic energy.

“Relax, baby, we won’t be late,” He reassures you with a quiet voice. You notice that you’re clutching the lip gloss in your hand a bit too tight and relax your grip, dropping the item into your purse before zipping it up.

“Right,” you shut your eyes for a moment.

“We’ll be fine,” You feel his hands snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. He could sense the tension in your muscles, he steadies your breathing with his own deep breaths, and you naturally follow his pattern.

“Thank you,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you take another moment before turning around in his arms. 

“I just have to tell you again how sexy you look right now,” He admits with a sly grin. It makes you laugh with your whole body, nearly falling out of his arms from the combination of embarrassment and joy. 

You cock your eyebrow at him. “Don’t praise me too much or else we’re not making it out of here at all,” He lets out a short laugh. 

“I have no problem with that,” He grabs your face and peppers kisses all over your cheeks, despite your immediate protests.  

It helps you remember that no matter what happens at the wedding, this is what’s waiting for you afterward.

—

The venue is only a few minutes away from the hotel, so the drive is much shorter than you wanted it to be. You tried to wrench away the last of your nerves as you stared at the entrance of the country club, you noticed the other well-dressed guests and their occasional stares at you, your chest, and your hips.

He catches on and squeezes your hand. “Come on, we don’t wanna be late,” He pulls you gently into motion, and you instinctively wrap your arm around his. 

The venue is stunning, if not expensive, it definitely costs an arm and a leg to get married near the beach during peak wedding season. The wedding ceremony is outside, and the heat hits you the moment you make it through the back exit with Minghao. The late afternoon sun bore itself down on the guests, but you couldn’t exactly be upset when the atmosphere was so beautiful.

The space was a converted lawn that overlooked the nearby beach, the venue’s most anticipated view, and now prime wedding location. 

The arch, aisle, and individual seats were ivory-colored, each adorned with white floral arrangements. Most of the guests had filed in by the time you made it to your seats, but Minghao led you both to seats right near the aisle toward the back of the seating arrangements. 

There were a few things to keep your interest within the scenery itself, but Minghao mostly stayed quiet. Besides checking in once to see how you were feeling before the ceremony, he mostly observed the people around him. 

Namely, a baby that was in the row ahead of you. The infant was slightly fussy, understandably with the heat and noise from the live orchestra. The mother seemed slightly flustered trying to keep the baby under control, but Minghao’s interest seemed to catch the baby’s focus once he made himself known.

He babbled and made funny faces that made the baby stop crying, their watery eyes watching him in surprise. The cries soon turned to laughs as he gently pinched the baby’s cheek with his fingers, his cooing soothed their nerves almost instantly. There was something that stirred in your chest at the sight of him, your “not really fake” boyfriend being so gentle with the baby and the sight of his engagement ring could’ve made you cry on the spot.

It was almost like a glimpse into the future, a memory that you captured in your heart instantly. You hadn’t discussed anything past marriage yet, but this made you want to have the conversation soon.

Not that anything could happen in the immediate future, but something in you wondered if he would want to start a family with you someday. You’re snapped out of the daydream when you hear the mother thank him and he turns his attention toward you.

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head. “Nothing,” You choose not to elaborate, to keep the feeling sacred in your chest. 

He notices how high your cheeks are from smiling and clutches your hand tighter than before.

A few minutes pass before the procession officially begins, the guests all rise from their seats and watch as the bridesmaids, groomsmen, the ring bearer, and the flower girl each have their moment walking down the aisle.

Mingyu is then escorted down the aisle with his mother, and you realize this is the first time you’ve seen him in so long.. He settles at the altar and anxiously waits for his bride to join him, the entire crowd also holds an air of anticipation.

Once she steps into view, Mingyu looks absolutely enamored with the bride, he can’t stop beaming while watching her. You even see a few tears fall from his cheeks and it makes the moment even more precious.

You wonder how that feeling would settle into your bones, knowing that you’ve built such a strong bond with someone that there’s no other option than to marry them. 

Despite your initially rash decision, the longer you were living with the concept of getting married, the more it started to scare you.

Sure, you liked the idea of wedding planning, picking out a dress, and all the other decisions that were meant to be a dream come true, but being at a wedding was completely different. It was a visualization of months of effort to bring so many different elements together that you feel almost intimidated by it.

Yet, there’s no reason for you to even have cold feet, you two aren’t even formally in a relationship! You have all the time in the world to let the relationship bloom completely, you know he wouldn’t jump into anything too quickly.

You sit with all these feelings as the ceremony goes on, their vows to each other are filled to the brim with adoration and care for one another. 

This was a result of years invested into a relationship, but how could you feel nearly the same way, truly feel the descriptions of being cared for and protected beyond measure, after a few weeks? 

You tear up at how they speak so highly of each other because you love Minghao in this way, you love this person who has enriched your life so deeply that you can’t even recognize yourself from a few weeks ago.

As soon as they’re pronounced husband and wife, you watch them exchange that first kiss as if their bodies couldn’t bear to be apart for another second. You cry silently as you watch them through slightly blurry eyes, the realization is all a bit too much to bear at the moment. 

You force yourself to keep sniffling occasionally until the ceremony is over, but the moment Minghao holds your hand as the rest of the crowd disperses, you lose the rest of your composure. 

Minghao glances over at you in slight shock. 

“Darling, what’s wrong?” His tone is especially warm tonight, and you know you can’t wait any longer to tell him.

“I love you,” You face him and cup his face in your hands. “I love everything about you and I mean that,” Your voice is choked by sobs, but you manage to get it all out.

You wanted this moment to be more private, but when you see the relief hit his face, the tension melts from his shoulders and he smiles so wide that you know he’s only focused on you.

“I love you too,” He can’t stop grinning, he’s on the brink of tears when you observe his eyes and you pull him into your arms immediately.

You stay there for a little while, just silently rocking each other in a tight hug. 

He finally whispers in your ear. “I think we’re missing the party,” He looks back at the brightly lit venue before facing you again. You finally hear the music thumping and come to your senses.

“Yeah, I think so. We don’t want to miss the speeches, right?” You ask with a tilt of your head, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. 

—

The inside of the venue feels especially cozy now that the ceremony is over, the room is dimly lit and almost lulls you into a false sense of security. 

You’re acutely aware of Minghao’s hand around your waist, his fingers are idly running across the fabric of your dress and it eases your nerves once again. The room is lively, music and conversation fill the space to a decently loud volume that you still have to adjust to. You don’t spot Mingyu or the bride, but you’re sure they’re mingling happily amongst their guests. 

Your eyes scan across the room to find your table, but you turn to face Minghao in confusion. “Do you remember our table number?”

“It was 13,” He speaks over the music and turns to look for the table in question, letting out a quiet hum when he spots it. He points to the table and you both head over, not seeing the other guests in view quite yet. You can tell it’s fairly full, and you decide that you weren’t against getting to know new people. 

That’s what you tell yourself until he’s the first person you spot at your table. 

Fucking hell. 

Of course, he’s at your table, looking at you expectantly. You can almost see a glint of regret in his eyes when you adjust your posture, but you look at her before you can fixate on his expression for too long. 

She’s glowing in that expectant mother kind of way, you almost feel uneasy when she offers you a smile. You’re certain that your thoughts are pulling you too far back into your brain when Seokmin makes himself known.

“Look at you two, it’s been a while,” He chats excitedly, eyes disappearing with that brilliant smile of his. He directs his attention at you first.

“You look absolutely stunning!” He opens his arms for a hug and you happily oblige, placing your arms on his back in a tight embrace. “Thank you,” You’re nearly breathless by the time he pulls away, but still happy nonetheless. 

“I need to know where you got this dress, I can’t get over it,” Seokmin gushes, he gives you a once over before smiling up at you again. 

“Oh, he made it for me,” You respond easily, you’re determined not to shy away from the compliment. You look at Minghao briefly and he returns a smirk, but it’s affirming, you’re grateful that your confidence has yet to waver.

“I’m not shocked at all,” He pulls Minghao into a hug and pats him on the back, “he’s always had a good eye.” Minghao laughs and pulls himself into conversation with the journalist easily. You realize that it’s rude to not at least acknowledge the other people at the table, but you’re pleasantly surprised by the sight of Soonyoung and Chan, who are both equally excited to see you.

The table arrangement is overwhelmingly positive besides the obvious, but it was likely out of convenience that Mingyu’s college friends were all arranged together at one table. 

Soonyoung and Chan sweep you away from the table in a hurry, giving you no room to look at Joshua for even a second longer. “I feel like it’s been ages since I’ve seen you,” Chan is beaming when he pulls you into a tight hug. Weeks felt like months now that you were out of the hypothetical bubble, but you start to feel guilt in the pit of your stomach. 

“Yeah, your man really pulled you away from your friends,” Soonyoung jokes as you embrace him toward your chest. You laugh into his suit jacket, but the fact still remains. You hadn’t updated them nearly enough on the situation recently, especially not about your revelation toward Minghao. 

You didn’t want to become that person who neglected their friends once you got into a relationship, you didn’t want to be consumed by him that you forget to live outside of him. You pull away from the hug and look at both of them with wistful eyes. You don’t have any excuses, to be honest. 

“Sorry that I’ve been hiding, it wasn’t intentional,” You shake your head pathetically, shifting your eyes down to your feet before looking up at them again.

“It’s not okay, we’ve been starving for details,” Chan replied with a cheeky grin. “But we’re happy you’re okay,” Soonyoung interjects. 

“You two look like you’re in love,” Soonyoung leads the two of you further away from the table to make sure Minghao is completely out of earshot. 

“Wait, are you in love with him?” Soonyoung clutches your arm and you see that Chan is anxiously awaiting the answer too. 

You chuckle lightly and lower your voice. “I confessed to him earlier,” you whisper. The men both gasp in excitement, giving you proud smiles that invite you in so easily. 

“I knew it,” Chan pats Soonyoung’s shoulder as a sly smile plays on his lips. 

“We both did,” Soonyoung puts a hand on your shoulder, “there was no way you were getting out of this without catching feelings.” You start to blush and look for a way out, taking a glance around the room.

You want to focus on other guests, what they’re wearing, the gossip that’s on their lips, but you can only look for him. He’s not too far, of course, but your heart can’t slow until you see him. 

You lock eyes with him and his face noticeably softens. You watch his smile spread to his cheeks before turning away. “Let’s get drinks before the speeches start,” You nod in the guys’ direction and they approve the decision immediately.

You settle on a vodka soda from the bar and lazily nurse your first drink in your hand, occasionally taking a sip while talking to Soonyoung and Chan.

It was ultimately a good idea to drink now, you thought it best to have your senses slightly blurred when facing the elephant in the room. 

You needed just a bit of liquid courage, not too much to make it through whatever the night had yet to present. Once all three of you had mingled to your heart’s content, you made your way back to the table with a newfound confidence. 

As you took a seat next to Minghao, his hand found your thigh instantly. 

He leans in to whisper against your ear. “Enjoying yourself?” 

You feel yourself blush. “Yeah, just needed a little pick me up,” You reciprocate the action and he runs his hand along your leg in affirmation.

“Good,” He pulls away with a nod. It’s a bit cheeky, but you wouldn’t fold for him like this, not yet at least.

“More importantly, how are you holding up?” You place your chin in the palm of your hand, gazing at him softly. The upbeat music and distant conversations from other tables make you feel a bit fuzzier while making eye contact with him.

“I’m good, Seokmin kept me pretty occupied thankfully,” He sucks his teeth and lets out a sigh. You nod in a silent understanding, you wish you had the ability to diffuse tension like he could. 

“Hopefully it’s smooth sailing,” You reassure him with a gentle smile, one that he accepts with a small grin. You say it in an effort to soothe the hint of doubt in your own mind, but you were getting ahead of yourself. 

There weren’t any problems yet, so why create them out of thin air? 

You only had to idle for a few more minutes before the speeches got into full swing. The maid of honor and best man both had emotionally touching speeches that kept everyone’s spirits high. It was emotional for both the bride and groom, who you noticed wiping stray tears on occasion while listening to their loved ones. It was clear that they were surrounded by a supportive circle who were excited to send them off on their new journey as newlyweds. 

The real trouble was dinner.

You learned that Mingyu loved cooking, so the spread for the meal was quite thorough enough to suit a variety of dietary restrictions and tastes. Once each of you had gone up to get food, and in your case extra alcohol, you could no longer delay the inevitable.

The tension was unbearably thick.

The sound of utensils scraping against plates and the occasional clink of glassware were the only noises that filled the silence amongst the table. 

As much as your second and third drinks were continuing to soothe your nerves, the presence of alcohol could only do so much. Each person at the table had varying levels of familiarity with the situation at hand, but it wasn’t their place to instigate anything, so the silence endured.

“How was your trip up here, Y/N?” Joshua asked suddenly.

“It was fine, we drove up,” You held your composure at the question, making eye contact with him briefly before looking down at your plate to take another bite of your food.

“Nice, so you got to prepare how you were going to lie to everyone, right?”

“What?” You look up at him with a deadpan expression. You notice Minghao shifting in his seat  next to you. He seriously wasn’t trying to do this over dinner, right?

“You know what I’m talking about, Y/N, don’t play dumb,” He scoffed at you. You glance at Seokmin, who is clearly confused at his apparent line of questioning. Soonyoung and Chan both seemed to catch on immediately.

“No, Joshua. I don’t know what you’re talking about. Enlighten me,” You smile at the end of your response. You lean back in your chair and tilt your head slightly.

If he wanted to embarrass you, he was going to have to work for it.  

“When did you get engaged, Y/N?”

“Joshua, what the hell are you doing?” His girlfriend interjected.

“No, it’s okay,” You reassure her with a nod but she still looks concerned on your behalf. “It was 2 months ago. He set up a picnic for us like our first date, it was lovely.”

“When are you getting married?”

The detail you discussed with Minghao during the road trip immediately came to mind. “This time next year, so sometime during the summer, we’re still early in the planning phase. Anything else?”

“You didn’t even have your ring on when I met him with you,” Joshua stutters through his words.

“I knew I had a long day of work ahead of me without much sleep the night before so I naturally forgot. Minghao told you that I forgot it. You knew I had terrible sleep issues while we were together, or did you conveniently forget that so it could fit your narrative about me?” You tilt your head slightly, the answer comes together almost too easily.

That response earned a light chuckle from Minghao, and everyone else at the table knew they were in for a show.

“Your relationship is fake, no matter how much you delude yourself or him. I honestly can’t believe you got him to do this in the first place,” Joshua sets his jaw in frustration. You adjust your posture once more so you can properly read Joshua to filth. It was fun being a bit underhanded with Joshua, but now he was getting unnecessary.

“First of all, you don’t speak for him or me. The fact that you have nothing better to do than to interrogate me about my relationship is a sign that you can’t bear to think of me being happy without you,” Your tone remains firm as you let out your innermost thoughts.

“I’m clearly in love with him and that bothers the shit out of you because you’re miserable as fuck. The fact that you’re an emotionally stunted dickhead is not my problem. You should be worrying about becoming a father and minding your business, but here you are making a fool out of yourself,” Joshua seems to shrink slightly behind your words, but you don’t lose your momentum.

“I don’t know what your goal was in trying to humiliate me in front of my friends and my fiancé, but you’re a fucking loser and I suggest you spend some time getting your head out of your ass. Fuck you.”

You take a sharp exhale. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom,” You don’t hesitate to stand up and make a beeline away from the table.

You don’t stop walking through the seemingly endless halls until you’re in the comfort of the bathroom, clutching the edge of the sink and letting out a shaky breath.

You did it.

You let him have it in front of Minghao, his girlfriend, and your friends.

It felt good as hell. 

It was long overdue, but the feeling of freedom in your skin felt too good to ignore. 

You take a moment to assess if there was any damage to your makeup. Thankfully, nothing looked out of place once you spent a few moments admiring your features. 

It felt like your mind was finally catching up to your body now that you were alone.

First, you said that you were in love with Minghao and you truly meant it. Defending him was so natural to you that it felt like you’d done it for ages.

Second, Joshua knew the original setup was fake. It didn’t really matter now that you had actively gaslit him into oblivion, but you had clearly made up for a less than stellar performance when you first introduced Joshua to Minghao. 

Lastly, you still had to go back out there. Sure, you were tipsy, but you still had to perform for a bit longer. It weighed on you the longer you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You brought yourself back to reality with a shake of your head, you turn to open the door and are shocked to see Minghao’s face.

“Hao,” You breathe out. 

“I wanted to come check on you. You really went off back there,” He gave you a kind smile and a pat on the shoulder.

“I did. It felt good,” You let out a chuckle.

“Are you anxious? Do you wanna go back to the hotel?” His comforting tone makes you smile, but shockingly, you don't feel completely overwhelmed by your surroundings. 

“I’m fine, babe,” You lower your head slightly at the questions. Most times, you think you would’ve preferred going home after being so confrontational, but you wanted to have fun. You didn’t want to hide anymore.

He pulls you into a hug and mumbles into your ear. “I’m proud of you,” His words melt into you so easily, it makes you feel at ease. You spend a few more moments with your head against his shoulder, savoring the silence away from the commotion of the wedding party. It didn’t matter what anyone thought about the two of you, you were determined to enjoy yourself. 

You lift your head up and find his hand to intertwine with your own. He gives you a reassuring look before you make your way back through the corridors into the main ballroom. The party is far more lively than when you first left a few minutes ago, the DJ is playing some party song that was popular when you were younger.

The dance floor is noticeably fuller as well, the atmosphere makes you grateful that you decided to stick around for the rest of the reception. You briefly tried to look for the other guys, but Soonyoung was the only one that made himself known to you once you reentered the ballroom.

“There you are!” He exclaimed in relief at the sight of you. He was yelling above the music to catch your attention, even when both you and Minghao eventually got closer to him.

“That was really intense, huh?” He furrowed his brows, his face slightly concerned. 

“Yeah, but he deserved it,” You rolled your eyes and scoffed. If anything, you could’ve gone harder on him and expressed every single inch of your rage, but your composure was commendable considering the circumstances. 

“Definitely, you should’ve seen how pale he was after you left,” Soonyoung shook his head in disbelief at the thought of it.

“He was definitely shitting himself, I didn’t know you could be that lethal,” Minghao pinched your arm and you smirked. It made you happy that your goal was accomplished, it made the trouble of making a scene worth it knowing how much it affected him. 

“I’m only lethal when I need to be,” You clarify with a chuckle, averting your gaze toward the rest of the dancefloor, “and we should go dance. Enough Joshua talk for now,” You whined into Minghao’s shoulder.

“Okay, okay, we can go,” Minghao kissed the back of your hand and gave a sympathetic look to Soonyoung. 

“Don’t go too crazy,” Soonyoung winked and walked away, working himself back into the hustle and bustle of the party. You lead Minghao into a free space on the dance floor, immediately feeling the vibe of the dance track in your body. You weren’t a spectacular dancer by any means, but you figured you didn’t look too awkward compared to everyone else around you.

Minghao naturally snakes his hands around your hips and you don’t resist his touch, it only elevates your mood. He falls into a natural rhythm with you, falling away to make you laugh with his dance moves before pulling you in again. When one song gets particularly heated, he pulls you against his chest and lets his hands wander further down to graze the curve of your ass. 

The lights are dim enough where people can’t see unless they’re being particularly nosy. 

He doesn’t linger for much longer before bringing his hands up to cup your face briefly before leaning in towards your ear.

“I wanna fuck you so badly,” He hums into your ear. You feel a blush creeping up your neck, you didn’t expect him to be so forward about it. He had never expressed desperation like this before, it almost made you lose it right then and there.

“You’ll have me soon enough, babe,” You respond as evenly as you could with the mounting tension between you. He doesn’t seem satisfied, his energy becoming a bit bratty in your hold. 

“One more hour, baby, can you make it until then?” You tease. He averts his glance from you and sighs deeply.

“Yes, of course I can,” He scoffed. His behavior only made you laugh, you had no idea how you’d managed to pull this reaction out of him. 

You held to your word, sticking around the party for exactly one more hour, but he wasn’t exactly concealing his reaction. As you started to make your final goodbyes around the party, his eagerness started to make its way to the surface. 

When you exchanged goodbyes with Seokmin, Soonyoung, and Chan, his grip got a bit tighter on your arm. 

You notice the way his hands wander across your lower back. He’s still cordial with the guys, of course, but every time you lock eyes with him you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Surprisingly, you even got to meet Mingyu and his wife for a moment right before you left.

Yet, Minghao is still lingering on you as if Joshua is right around the corner. When you feel him nestle his face in the crook of your neck to leave a prolonged kiss against your skin, you assume he’s nearby. 

The tension keeps itself incredibly high at every point until you’re in the car.

“Don’t look at me or else we’re not gonna make it out of the car,” He shifts the car into drive and your skin suddenly feels like it’s on fire.

—

“Fuck fuck fuck,” All other words are lost by the feeling of Minghao’s tongue on your cunt.

He didn’t even undress you or anything, he simply instructed you to lay back against the bed and let him take over which you could never be mad at.

He doesn’t let up at all, leaving you slightly torn at the contact. You’re enjoying yourself without a doubt, but the structured form of the dress starts to show its discomfort after a few moments.

“Minghao,” You breathe out. 

“Hm?”

“I’m still in the dress,” You stare at him in confusion.

“Is that okay?”

“I just want to get out of it, my boobs hurt,” It comes out more like a whine than a statement, but the point still stands.

“I promise I’ll undress you soon, okay? I just want to enjoy the way my darling looks wearing my masterpiece since I couldn’t do that in public,” He gently rubs the black fabric that adorns your legs. It gets you to soften up a bit.

“I look that gorgeous?” You ask quietly. You didn’t realize it had that much of an effect on him, but you’d probably be freaking out if you were in his position. He lets out a soft laugh and crawls up to your mouth, a wandering hand finds its way to your cheek. 

“Baby, you look incredible. You don’t know how many times I wanted to tear it apart tonight just to taste you,” He whispers against your mouth. “But it’s a gift,” He leaves a kiss on your jaw. “And I want you to remember how well I’m about to fuck you in it,” He moves back to your mouth and your moan gets trapped in a kiss.

His words make your cheeks flush with warmth. He sits up slightly to pull your gloves off one by one. “Okay, hands above your head,” He instructs you gently.

You follow his orders with curious eyes. He proceeds to use the gloves to tie your wrists together, the increasing tightness against your skin makes your heart pound in anticipation.

“Is it too tight?”

“No, I’m fine,” You admit. You’ve never had your hands restrained before, but you trust him to not hurt you. 

He lets you adjust to the new feeling for a moment before disappearing under the fabric of your skirt and resume his previous movements, but it’s not long before he hikes your skirt up with forceful hands.

“Shit,” You whimper.

He replaces his tongue with two of his fingers, the sudden pressure forces out a moan that almost makes you ashamed.

“Gonna work you open just how you like it, ok?” His eyes are noticeably darker when they meet yours, the lust seems to overtake him completely. You get lost in the feeling of his fingers repeatedly hitting that spongy spot, your walls keep clenching around him out of habit. He’s just too good at it, his slender fingers always have you seeing stars pretty quickly.

His speed increases and your arms fall slightly. He’s getting noises out of you that you’ve never heard before, the cries of his name are all you can register in your brain beside the pounding in your ears.

“My pretty little brat, always so needy for me huh?” The resurgence of the nickname makes the coil in your stomach tighten even more, you can barely hold yourself together. 

You want to say something, anything on your mind, but you’re simply reduced to babbling. 

“Come on, tell me how much you wanted me to touch you,” His low voice has a complete hold on you at the moment. He wants to work you up as much as possible before you break, and you could only force yourself to submit.

“So badly, please, I thought about you all night,” You squeeze your eyes shut to hold yourself together, his fingers haven’t slowed their pace yet.

“Look at me,” His voice is so gentle, but the moment you meet his eyes, you know that you need to cum.

“You wanna cum?”

“Yes, please, I’ve been good tonight,” You beg him for mercy knowing you’re at the point of no return.

“You’re close, aren’t you, baby?” He smirks at the mess in front of him, how desperate you are as your legs start to shake from the pressure. You can only nod at this point. 

“Holding on for me like a good girl?” He curls his fingers tighter and it rips a scream from your throat.

“Yes!” Your reply comes out just as loudly.

“Then you can cum,” His instructions send you over the edge, you feel yourself coat his fingers repeatedly and you can barely keep your eyes open.

You take a few heaving breaths and you feel his lips against your thigh.

“You did so well,” He offers praise in between kisses, his mouth against your skin helps ground you again.

“Are you good for some more?” He’s up to untie your restraints before you can think about it, and you revel in the feeling of your wrists being untied.

“Yeah, I’m good,” You nod. He tosses your gloves to the floor before moving to straddle you.

You can feel his erection against you and your breath hitches. He captures your lips in a kiss before you can call him out on it, you can taste traces of your cum against his lips. He moans against your neck and you wish you could hold him there for the rest of the night.

“Want you to cum in me so badly,” You whisper.

“I’m on it, angel,” He leaves one last kiss against your lips before he stands up.

“Wait,” You rush to sit up, adjusting your position on the bed a bit too quickly.

“What?”

“Let me help you get undressed,” You soften your voice, placing your hands on his hips.

He grins at your touch and guides your fingers to his zipper. You take the hint and unbuckle his belt, throwing it to the side before unzipping his pants. He strips out of his pants and you already have your hands tugging on his boxers.

You force them down to reveal his very irritated cock. He’s clearly been holding his restraint for far too long, so you don’t think too hard before you stroke him gently.

His knees almost buckle from the contact, and he forces your hand away.

“Shit, don’t make me cum, I’m not supposed to cum on you, right?” He asks with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“No,” You shake your head with an unassuming smile.

“Exactly, I can’t ruin this beautiful dress, now can I?” He straddles you once again, helping you gather your skirt up as far as it’ll go before it hits the bodice.

He lines himself up at your entrance and you’re already bracing yourself for the intensity of it all. 

The initial push isn’t as bad as you thought, but it still makes you groan as you clutch onto his arm. He pushes through until he’s bottomed out, but you both sigh audibly the moment it stops. 

You’re just so full that it’s hard to focus on anything else, so much so that he notices.

“Baby?”

“Yeah,” You force your eyes open to look at him.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, it’s just you,” You place emphasis on the last word and he’s lowering his head in surprise.

“I’m gonna move now,” He confirms his plan and you nod.

His strokes are incredibly slow at first, you’re sure that you’ll cum if he adjusts himself any further. He soon finds his rhythm though, you notice how intently he’s watching you when you look at his face again. 

He’s obsessed with you, the way your face scrunches up in pleasure, and how your moans sound heavenly in response to him.

“I love you so much,” The words sound blurred with pleasure as he tries to fight the groans escaping from his mouth. You’re not faring much better, he manages to render you speechless as the sound of his skin hitting yours echoes throughout the hotel room.

“I love you,” You breathe out, your arms draped around his neck and you pull him closer until he’s nearly laying on your chest.

“Is this what you want, baby? Do you want me to cover every inch of you like this?” His voice is gravelly in your ear, begging you to give in to him.

“Yes, fuck, stay low like this please,” You pull yourself onto his mouth and lose yourself to him. He moves his head to the crook of your neck to help him gain some control, he’s able to cage you in slightly to hit you even deeper than before.

You can only grasp his hair and whine through it all. Your nerves are ready to let go at any moment, but you’re trying to savor how close he is to you. His cologne, the feeling of his skin on yours, his voice, your brain can only process pieces of him.

“Minghao, fuck,” You can’t even begin to form a coherent sentence, just mumbling his name over and over again. 

“Gonna cum?”

“Yes, yes yes,” He picks up the pace slightly to accommodate you and lets your orgasm hit full force, his cum fills you up so well that you can barely breathe. You clutch him even tighter than before and he fucks you through the orgasm, mumbling sweet nothings in your ear to calm you down.

“You’re always so good for me,” He whispers against your skin. He takes a moment to admire you despite your heavy panting.

His orgasm hits soon after and you feel him still around you, inhaling a sharp breath beside you.

You don’t separate for a long while, you just bring him back down to earth with soft touches. He’s always taking care of you, so you figure it’s time to do the same for him.

“Ready to get up, baby?” You rub his shoulder with encouragement.

“Not really,” His laugh vibrates against your chest. He was very cute, but you knew you had to convince him because it was getting a bit too hot in this position.

“Well, you have to take me out of the dress since you put me in it,” You try to sway him. “And it’s gonna feel so good to be in our pajamas, right?”

“Mhm,” He agrees.

“So let’s get up before I lose feeling in my legs,” You joke with him, but you’re rapidly feeling more and more tethered to the bed. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He pulls out of you swiftly and falls to the other pillow beside you. You finally feel like you can breathe once you sit up. 

You take a moment to remove your jewelry and place it on the nightstand before turning back to him. You’re sure that he’s been looking at you the whole time by the way he grins at your attention.

“Hi,” You turn your head over your shoulder, his eye contact makes you shy.

“Hi, love.”

“Can you unzip me? Pretty please?” You raise your voice slightly, pursing your lips to make him smile.

“Yes, sorry I kept you waiting,” It succeeds when he grins at you, he finally scoots toward you and pulls down the zipper, which allows you to slip out of the dress. 

“Thank god,” You sigh a bit too loud. You have to steady your nerves before standing up, but you’re still a bit wobbly when you’re stumbling around the room looking for a shirt.

“Felt that good?”

“Feel like my boobs were held hostage all night,” He looks slightly worried and you have to backtrack slightly, “which was not your fault, it’s just naturally a bit uncomfortable,” You slip an oversized shirt over his head, one that you stole from the back of his t-shirt drawer. 

“Okay,” He still watches you hesitantly. “Wait, that’s my shirt,” He points at you in fake shock.

“Yeah, I’ve stolen quite a few of your shirts. I’m shocked you haven’t noticed yet,” You sift through your bag to find clean underwear and slip them on with your back turned to him.

“I have noticed,” You hear him get off the bed to find clothes, “and I don’t care, you look pretty in them.” You realize he’s fully dressed when he hugs you from behind and kisses you on the cheek. 

You hum in affirmation, closing your eyes and you naturally start to rock back and forth in his arms. You feel him kiss the top of your head and you revel in the moment, the silence that always speaks volumes between you.

“Hey,” You speak up.

“Yeah?”

“I love you,” You’re getting used to saying it out loud more often, you force yourself to fight past the nerves of expressing it to him more often now.

“I love you too,” He responds immediately, it makes your heart sing. 

It feels like a new chapter has unofficially begun, one where you have to address the future standing in front of you. How do you not let yourself get lost in this relationship? 

How do you love when you’ve never been in a healthy relationship before?

It’s something that lingers when you fall asleep curled up next to him, trying to quiet the fears creeping up in your mind.

—

The next morning moves far more slowly than the day before. You can’t help but hold onto him a bit longer in bed, your fingertips just want to feel the warmth of his skin, your mind feels at ease when you feel his heartbeat against your ear. 

By the way he tightens his arms around you, you figure he’s not itching to let you go either. The beach day you’ve both thought about seems like it’s drifting away with each passing moment. 

“Baby?” He rasps.

“Hmm?”

“You’re awake.”

“So are you,” You sit up to get a better look at him. His hair is completely messy, and you watch him try to smooth it out but to no avail. 

“Do you still wanna go out today? We don’t have to,” His offer is definitely inviting, but you figure you should make the most of your trip before the inevitably long ride home. 

“No, we should. I wanna see you in that outfit you packed,” You giggle.

“You’ve just got ulterior motives, huh?”

“Maybe,” You bite your lip and concentrate on his eyes.

“That’s okay, I was thinking about what you’d wear too,” He admits with a shake of his head. You give him a peck on the lips and push on his chest lightly.

“Come on, let’s get going then,” You kiss him on the cheek before forcing yourself out of bed to get ready. You both fall into separate routines, only converging to eat breakfast and brush your teeth while getting yourselves together. 

Minghao does end up wearing the outfit he showed you back at his apartment, the baby blue set is slightly oversized on him but it works against his skin tone. You opt for a similar coverup layout, wearing a tropical print shirt and a pair of shorts to cover your bikini. 

The beach isn’t too far from the hotel, but the walk feels especially crisp with the late summer air on your skin. The day was breaking into early afternoon by the time you both left, it was bright enough that you both ended up needing your sunglasses. 

Just like the day before, you strolled arm in arm taking in the sights of the neighborhood. You were grateful that there wasn’t any internal pressure anymore now that the wedding was over, you were still trying to adjust to not being on defense the entire time.

As you approached the beach, it dawned on you that despite enjoying yourself last night, fighting with Joshua made you realize just how hard you were willing to fight for Minghao. It’s easy to say what you might do when you’ve spent a month ruminating on the moment, but the pressure made your anger hard to ignore.

Since it was the weekend, there were a moderate amount of people enjoying themselves along the beach. Couples, families, and friend groups were sunbathing, playing around, eating food, or just enjoying each other’s company.

Somehow, you were able to find a spot to lay down your old beach towel for the both of you to sit on top of. It was thankfully out of the way from the crowds, so you were able to observe people without too much trouble. 

You were able to sit in silence with each other for a few moments, absorbing the white noise of the people and the distant noise of the waves on the horizon.

“When does your lease end?” He asks you suddenly.

“January. Why?” 

“Do you still want to live there? You know, after everything?” His questions make you shrink in on yourself once you hear them.

You honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. You figured that if you managed to avoid Joshua for this long, you could continue to make it happen. Yet, you couldn’t imagine how that could possibly work now knowing how badly you’d gone off on him.

“Shit,” You let out a shaky breath, concentrating on the ocean that sat at the edge of your sight.

“We don’t have to do anything,” He reminds you gently.

“No, you’re right. If I want it to be completely over, I need to move,” You affirm your decision. You need to be firm with your own boundaries, mostly for your own sake. 

“Okay.”

“How do you feel about moving though?” You posit the question and he’s already adjusting himself on the beach towel.

“I mean, aside from everything else, the apartment is getting kinda small for me. I just need more space in general,” He sighs at the thought.

“What’s top priority?” You humor him and he smiles for a moment before answering.

“An actual home office. I think not having enough space to get work done is bothering me,” His thought seems unfinished by the way he looks up at the sky, trying to conjure more ideas.

“But?”

“But I’m trying to keep my work and home life more separate, especially now that we’re together,” He says it without thinking and your eyes widen.

“We’re together, huh?” You joke.

It seems to hit him immediately. You’ve both said I love you, so it just seemed natural that you were together already.

Yet, he hasn’t asked. You haven’t asked.

“Y/N,” He reaches out for your hands and you gladly let him hold them. 

“Yes?”

“Will you be my girlfriend?” He’s grinning so hard just waiting for your reply, you don’t think that you could ever tell him no. 

“Of course, Minghao,” You cup his face and pull him into a kiss. 

He’s noticeably shyer than before once he pulls away from you, his cheeks are slightly pink. “Anyway, I just want it to be our space now that we’re together. I want it to feel like home.” 

You can only imagine what an apartment mixed with both of your tastes looks like, but it still makes your heart feel warm. 

“That makes sense, so I assume your lease ends around the same time?” You lean back onto your palms, letting out a quiet sigh. 

“Yeah, mid January. It seems so far away just thinking about it,” His words make you think of how brutal winter is back in the city. You hate having to trudge home in the snow, boots covered in sludge all while trying to stay warm with too many layers on.

You push it to the back of your head once you look up at the bright blue sky, drawing you back into the feeling of summer. 

Silence falls over the two of you again. The idea of planning a future with him feels foreign, how do you begin to process all of that?

“Scary,” You shiver from the breeze passing by.

“It is scary,” He doesn’t comfort you this time, instead confirming the fear of it. 

“Honestly, Minghao, I’m just scared of us,” You cross your arms and let out a deep sigh, focusing your eyes on the ocean ahead. 

“How so? I want to know what you’re feeling,” His voice is so inviting, you know that you can’t hold back from him anymore.

“I’m scared that I’m gonna fuck this up. I’ve never been in this kind of relationship and it scares me so much,” You clear your throat to avoid the tears threatening to spill out. “I don’t want to sabotage this because I’ve never felt this safe with someone before.” 

“Baby,” He places a hand on your arms, gently trying to pry them apart. You let him hold your hand, but you still can’t look at him. You’re not sure why it’s so embarrassing to be so vulnerable with him.

“I’m scared too. We’re still learning about each other’s boundaries, and it’s honestly still hard for me to express things to you. We’re gonna make mistakes with each other, but that’s natural. But, I know you’re bringing this up because you want us to start on a good foundation, right?”

“Yeah,” Your voice is still shaky, but you nod in agreement.

“Exactly, and that’s a great first step. I know it’s hard for both of us to open up, but I’m happy you told me,” He validates your fears and you finally look him in the eyes.

“Thank you, I just didn’t want to hide that when we’re about to truly start the relationship. I trust that we can call each other out on things if we cross a line, you know?” You still tried your best to hold eye contact, but you can’t help but focus on anything but his face.

“Yeah, absolutely. We’ll get there,” He finds your hand and squeezes it gently. The burden wasn’t completely resolved, but it was shared and that felt much better than keeping it all bottled up.

You found yourself staring out at the sea once again, eyes sometimes wandering to the people that would pass by. The silence wasn’t heavy this time, but rather full of mutual understanding. You soon felt a pull to explore the beach.

“Do you want to go down to the water?” You speak up.

“Yeah,” His face brightens and he helps you up off of the towel before standing up on his own.

You strip down out of your cover up, fold your clothes and place them in a neat pile near your shoes. “Race you there!” You yell suddenly and break out into a sprint.

“That’s not fair, you got a head start!” He’s close behind you, you can hear him catching up to you but you’re still running your hardest. 

He passes you soon enough, sticking his tongue out at you before breezing past you. You’re out of breath by the time you reach the waves, but he’s waiting for you with open arms.

His embrace is as welcoming as always, and you spend a few moments catching your breath against his shoulder. He instinctively holds you a bit tighter and it feels heavenly. The moment you’re alright, you both wade deeper into the ocean, splashing each other until you’re both laughing uncontrollably.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been out in the water until you feel the heat of the sun against your skin more harshly than before.

You both retreat and dry off in your designated corner before covering up again. The walk back to the car is quiet, but you’re learning to embrace those moments with him a bit more. 

After grabbing lunch at a nearby restaurant, the road-trip begins once again, with you in the passenger seat while he drives. It’s more or less the same as when you first drove up, he entertains you with conversation until you fall asleep, only to wake up dazed hours later.

This time, you manage to fall asleep for the rest of the ride, only waking up when Minghao tells you that you’re home. 

You mutually decide to spend the night apart to properly prepare for the first day of your new jobs the next day, plus you need a bit of space to recharge from the trip.

You wouldn’t be apart for much longer though, you mutually agreed that Minghao would carpool you both to and from work each day unless he had to head in early or stay late at his office. However, he reassured you that he’d always let you know about those kinds of things early on. 

It was a reliable routine that you could look forward to, you thought to yourself as you unpacked your clothes from your compact suitcase. 

Once you text Soonyoung and Chan to let them know that you made it back safely, you delve into your nightly routine. It’s odd not to have him around, you feel his absence at every point of the night. 

You’re able to fall asleep that night, but not as easily, silently hoping that he misses you all the same.

—

“Minghao? Are you okay?”

“All good,” He nods at you, staring at your shared workplace the next morning. The building seems a bit more intimidating when you’re about to begin the biggest job you’ve both had thus far.

“You seem nervous, love,” You see past his neutral expression and catch the slight tension in his brows.

“I am, I thought I’d be okay since I’ve already started the new work, but it’s different now. Everyone’s looking to me for all of the answers,” His brows furrow while he rants, but you notice the tension in his shoulders as he clutches his bag tighter in his fist.

“Hey, look at me,” You force him to meet your gaze, turning him around gently. “It’s okay to be nervous. You are perfectly capable and if you have any concerns, you’ve got people there to help right?”

He nods silently and your eyebrows perk up in support. “That’s great! You won’t be alone. I’ll be there in spirit, okay? Take this,” You give him a small frog statue that you’d been holding in your coat pocket and he smiles so wide that he breaks into laughter.

“This is cute, where’d you get it?” He admires the glazed figurine with care.

“I went to the hotel gift shop. I know you like frogs, I saw something on your desk,” You took a moment to look at the few items on his desk while you were there for the dress fitting and noticed a small frog plush, so you figured it needed a friend. 

“This is really sweet, babe, thank you. I feel a bit better about it,” His smile doesn’t go away as he tucks the figurine into his pocket.

“You’re welcome, I’m happy that I could help a little bit,” You kiss him briefly and he gives a kiss on your cheek in return.

“I’m really glad that I have you to rely on,” His words are so sincere that they make you blush. You’re always worried that you’re not doing enough for him, but you remember your conversation on the beach and realize that you’re both trying to be better. 

“I’m just glad that I can be there for you,” You offer the sentiment and it’s clear that it means a lot to him by the way he squeezes your hand and kisses it sweetly. The small gesture is enough to carry you through the rest of your day. 

The first full day is quite long, and you’re still overwhelmed by the full scope of your department, but you’re not meant to understand everything in the first day.

Your coworkers seem nice, your supervisors are intimidating, but you’re actually able to do some design work the first day. It’s far more than you expected out of the job, but it feels meant to be once you think back on your day.

You tried your best, and that’s all you can do. 

The best part of the day is watching him come outside to meet you, noticeably more tired than the morning, but he’s clearly excited to see you. He doesn’t say a word, silently enveloping you in a hug while he collects his thoughts. 

“Good first day?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah,” He mumbles into your ear, he pulls away soon enough and grabs your hand, leading you both to his car.

The drive home is far more talkative than normal, both of you swapping first day stories that gain laughs and surprised expressions from each other while looking back on the day.

The routine starts to fall into place naturally in your mind, you’re excited to get used to hearing him hum along to music in the car and asking you what he should make for dinner.

You’re worthy of this, worthy of being in a calm and healthy dynamic. It may seem boring to other people, but the comfort of knowing your partner trusts you and understanding that they genuinely enjoy your company is far more valuable than you originally thought.

��

January rolls around and apartment hunting is moderately stressful, but you end up with a two bedroom apartment that both of you like. You both agree to make a detailed spreadsheet with all your options, comparing all of them while nestled in bed together. Your lease ends before his, so his apartment is crowded for a few weeks before you’re both able to move out. 

Furniture shopping is far more stressful, and there’s plenty of small arguments about your styles, but the end product is worth it. This apartment is far more cozy than your last living situation, far more inviting than before and you’re not scared to be yourself around him. 

You’re not afraid to be at home knowing you’re both ready and willing to support each other.

The first year of your relationship is naturally filled with ups and downs, but the downs are especially frightening.

Complications with your medicine put you in the hospital and Minghao has never been more terrified, he isn’t able to think of anything else except if his love is safe and sound. 

The incident pulls you both back from work, but you’re able to make it through. Knowing how easily he could’ve lost you, Minghao doesn’t want to waste any more time.

You think nothing of him asking about if you prefer gold or silver or when you find him exploring your jewelry box, he just explains that he left one of his own rings in there. 

He was just eager, eager to make you a more permanent fixture in his life.

--

Minghao is incredibly nervous, all things considered. 

Your one year anniversary is today and he wants, no he needs, to propose to you tonight. The ring has been burning a hole in the back of one of his drawers for months now. He’s not sure how he’s managed to keep you off his tracks, but he’s grateful that you’ve had a bit more work to deal with lately. 

He had managed to pull a few strings and was able to rent out your favorite botanical garden in the city for the evening, it was something he’s wanted to do for you ever since you mentioned your affinity for gardens on the road trip last summer.

You were under the impression that you were both invited for a self guided tour, but you were blissfully unaware of his ulterior motives. 

If his timing was right, he’d be able to propose right as the sun was setting against the glass panes of the expansive greenhouse towards the end of the tour.

The tour had gone according to plan, you were enthralled by seeing the various kinds of plants and flowers that were displayed through each of the rooms. You were both on the way to the last room when you gushed over the experience once again.

“Everything is just so beautiful, I can’t believe you did this for us,” You lean your head against his shoulder.

“Of course, I figured it would be nice to not do a traditional dinner, but something we’ll remember,” He hints unknowingly and kisses you on the forehead. 

It’s not too far ahead now, and the sounds of your heels clicking along the tiles make him exponentially more nervous.

You reach the double doors and you stop walking.

You look down to see a path of roses leading into the greenhouse. Your eyes widen slightly and you turn to offer Minghao a hesitant smile. “What’s all this?” You ask quietly.

“Just a little something for you,” Minghao responds calmly, but he can barely keep it together internally. It’s hitting him all at once you walk in, your eyes immediately hitting the centerpiece in the middle of the room. 

“Oh my god,” Your eyes nearly pop out of their head at the sight of the words staring directly at you on a big sign.

Marry me.

“What are you doing,” Your voice is slightly shaky already, but he continues to walk you towards the setup.

“Hao, seriously,” You ask him again, but he simply holds your hand and starts to speak from the heart.

“This has been such an amazing year with you, and I honestly don’t think my life has ever felt so joyful before. You’re so supportive of me that as a result, I’ve been able to be much kinder to myself,” He stops to wipe his eyes. He lets out a shaky breath before continuing again. 

“Every day, I think about how I’ve been lucky enough to find someone who cares so deeply about me. I know this relationship didn’t start in the ideal way, but I would be your fake boyfriend 100 times over if it meant we could find each other again, if we could grow together. I want to take care of you for the rest of my life, if you’ll let me. So with that said,” He finally kneels and it breaks any of the resolve you might've had left in your body.

He opens the black velvet box to reveal a gold floral shaped diamond ring that knocks the wind out of you.

It’s so startlingly beautiful that you almost forget he hasn’t said the words yet. 

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Yes, what the fuck,” You sob at him and he’s beaming, you can barely see his smile through your tears. 

He instinctively grabs your hand to place the ring on your finger. It feels like your body is floating the moment he stands up to kiss you, your hands instinctively find the back of his neck and nestle into his hair.

“Glad I put on a shit ton of setting spray,” You whisper in his ear and pull away from him. He giggles and wipes the stray tears that are strewn across your cheeks.

“You still look beautiful, love,” He reassures you with a soft swipe against your cheek.

“You’re handsome too. I didn’t think you’d cry during the speech,” You push his shoulder lightly and he blushes.

“I basically blacked out, I practiced it so much,” He shakes his head at the thought of it all. 

“It was worth it, that was beautiful,” You pat his hair lovingly. 

“I have another surprise though,” He offers.

“Wait, what is it?”

“Well, the director of the gardens is a Semicolon fan, and I happened to be working as assistant creative director on her favorite collection. So, she’s letting us get married here for free,” He raises his eyebrows and looks at you with a playful glance. “Minghao,” You’re practically in tears again. You couldn’t be happier. 

“I told her this was your favorite place in the entire city, and she was quite happy to hear that,” He reaches to tuck a stray hair behind your ear and you melt into his touch.

“You’re so perfect, thank you baby,” You don’t let him get a word out before you’re kissing him much deeper this time, all the love and passion seems to come through immediately.

He reciprocated with the same level of commitment, holding you tenderly as you led him through the kiss.

“You’re welcome,” He mumbles into your ear.

It’s difficult to capture just how much has changed in a year. You’d like to think you’re much easier on yourself, now that you’re focused on what’s ahead of you instead of being so fixated on the past. It seems impractical that you were able to give yourself so easily to love, but you can’t deny how much it’s softened you.

When Minghao holds you in the aftermath of the proposal, you think you could stay there forever.

In that moment, you were simply grateful to be understood, grateful to be loved, and grateful to start a life with someone who saw the potential in you despite everything in the world that made you feel the opposite.

You can’t help but feel excited at the prospect of a life where there’s always love waiting for you when you least expect it.

[beehiveofblorbos]

Leaving my thoughts on V3’s writing aside - just Kokichi, yes?

You say, his plan was to end the killing game. Let’s specify which plan.

My interpretation has always been that he intended to do so by trapping Monokuma and preventing the other players from taking action.

Nope, I don’t think Kokichi ever intended to die. I particularly don’t think he intended to sacrifice himself in that way. I’ll get into the three major reasons why.

From the start, from chapter 1, he’s saying, “I’m gonna survive! I’m gonna make it no matter what!” (that’s pulled from the morning meeting shortly after Monokuma “revives”, I believe). He warns characters that he’s friendly with, like Kaede and Gokuhara, away from actions he believes will cause THEIR deaths, giving advice he himself follows (he tells Kaede not to share everything with other people in an optional dialogue you can trigger after one of the morning meetings, he tells Gokuhara that if he keeps being gullible he’ll be killed before he knows it in ch2 during a morning meeting early in Daily Life)

The second reason is that the hydraulic press situation is one Kokichi has little to no control over, and that would not fly with him if he wasn’t out of options. Kokichi is a control freak, and even more so as the killing game proceeds. I think ultimateplaylistmaker covered that really well, I won’t rehash the point. I think his later provocations of Harukawa (like the one at the end of ch4’s post trial section) are intended, or have a dual purpose of, to test her boundaries and see what plans he can pull off without drawing her fire. He was clearly setting up for his plan to end the killing game in Ch4 with requesting the weapons from Iruma, but he has no discernible way to know what will be unlocked after the next trial, even if he can get into some of the areas that are blocked off.

Additionally, he seems genuinely surprised when she comes in. Here, have some screenshots! The Harukawa one was taken from around the mid trial point, and of course Kokichi and Momota’s discussion is taken from the post trial. There’s a fourth I should’ve added, which is “why do you think the killing game started again?” between the second and third images but oops.

The third reason is - he himself says as much. He didn’t arrange to end the killing game this way.

Look, I’ve got more screenshots!

That all is entirely consistent with his motive, to end the killing game, and also consistent with his knowledge and actions throughout the game. Note that the first time he’s noted as wanting to push the game forward by killing, it’s in chapter 4, at the morning meeting where Momota punches him. It’s implied to be after he saw the motive, since it’s noted he wasn’t always like that.

Showing the others the motive is a clear and obvious way to control their movements, for pretty much anyone, it saps their will to live at BEST. It’s the missing piece: if nobody is moving around the Academy, either the mastermind will be easier to catch since they will act oddly or the mastermind will be restricted from influencing the rest of the group because they’re in such a bad state.

And that’s also why he kidnaps Momota; Momota is the kind of person who might actually fight through it all and re-inspire them, especially with that fatal illness thing he’s got going on. He can’t be allowed to remotivate the group.

Not sure what his next steps were, which is the weakest part of this interpretations but that’s what I’ve got.

Alright, now, why did Kokichi sacrifice himself? What did he intend to get out of it? And if he hadn’t planned this, why does he have a book written and handy for it?

Let’s tackle those questions one by one, shall we?

Why did he sacrifice himself? Well, he’s presented with a situation where he or well-trusted classmate must be made the victim, and either his killer-to-be or one of the two of them must become a blackened. Everything he’s worked so hard for is ruined, and he’s about of options. More than anything, he wants to end the killing game. So he allowed himself to be killed, because Momota is a less believable blackened-candidate, and because he wants one last shot at ending the killing game.

Why did he have a book written and handy for this? Well, there you have it. This was his backup plan, one of desperation and stubbornness. He was very aware that he could be put in a situation where he might not be able to survive at any point; recall that back in ch3, Harukawa and Saihara literally leave him lying there when he’s bleeding significantly from a head wound. Iruma, who he was somewhat friendly with, has just tried to kill him not like a week ago. He needed insurance, because he invested way too much to this plan to not win.

Ah, so I think I’ve already answered what did he intend to get out of it. For all intents and purposes… Monokuma DID just pick a person to execute. There was still no proof, and there never will be, whether Kokichi died from Harukawa’s poison or Momota’s press. But this way, Kokichi was able to prove that the game wasn’t a fair one. If this matters to the audience, then splendid, and that was an important aim and the game explained why. But also, it would prove it to his classmates - the ones who are actually doing the killing and dying. This way, no one will kill anymore, no matter what motive is given. The killing game is over; the game where they hunt and make the mastermind pay is on.

Y'know what? I feel like throwing myself to the wolves today.

Hello Danganronpa fandom! I would like to hear unbiased opinions, please. Emphasis on unbiased.

In my opinion, V3 was honestly one of the weaker games of the franchise. And our resident asshole (/lighthearted) of the game, Kokichi, is believe it or not, not a perfectly written character.

Please do not come onto this post calling me a dumbass that is falling for "propaganda." I know his plan was to end the killing game the whole time. The problem is that he doesn't have a solid motive to do so. At least not one that is clear to the viewers. His plan may have been to checkmate the mastermind, but his plan seems to fall apart when you realize he has no proof Monokuma would end the killing game. He’s doing this massive elaborate plan, assuming Monokuma won’t just pick a random person to execute so the game can continue. Because fundamentally, this game is unfair. Kokichi assuming Monokuma would play fair makes his plan just seem redundant, as well put together as it may have been. A buddy of mine posted a similar opinion a couple days ago and got absolutely dogpiled because she wasn't absolutely praising the hydrologic press that he was crushed in (too soon? Nah it's been four years it's fine). In fact, one of the points made above was one I directly copy pasted got from her in specific and I took so that you as the readers could hear her without her getting all the notifications. will not be stating any names out of my respect and care for this friend. But for the love of god, don't dogpile anyone for their opinions.

The purpose of this post is to hear outsider, completely unbiased opinions about Kokichi as a character. So when replying to this post, take those biases and lock them away in a safe. You don't need to throw them away entirely, just put them away until you hit the post button. Info dump to me and clearly point out what exactly his motive was, based entirely on the context clues of the game. What are things that are clear as day? What can be read in between the lines? Why did he want to end the killing game? What was his motive? If you think you know the motive, explain to me what I apparently missed and when it happened. Provide me proof and screenshots. Just all around make it make sense without using profanity and calling me an imbecile for not understanding something that was not written in a way that was clear. I dont not want those kinds of responses, as they really do not help. And as lightheartedly as possible, calling me names in the replies over something like this really doesn't provide me with a reason to take your word for it.

And hey! If you agree with me, I would also genuinely love to hear your personal take on the whole thing and what you think could've been done better with his character. What are your ideas? What do you think would've been really cool and interesting if it had been implemented?

I do not condone the way a lot of you handled my friend's post. So please do not talk to me the same way. Please come in to this post with the assumption that I have already completed the game and I already know what happened.

I humbly await for your perspectives.

[dasher85]

Inexpressible

That’s how it all begins

Kamisato Ayato X Reader | you | y/n

slow burn

‘How to start a relationship with someone who doesn’t even want to look at you.’ If Ayato can use Google search, that might be helpful for him.

A snippet:

"Don't go..." he pleaded. His fingers lightly touched your hands to stop you. You looked at him, slightly tilting your head to see his eyes. This was the the few times you'd be staring straight at him. "y/n please stay... I..." For even once, he was out of words to say. "Just stay" Suddenly he kneels down. Now it was him who had to tilt up his head, looking up to face you. His light blue eyes, glistening, seemingly surpassing the tears that could've fall down. You frowned, feeling troubled by the situation you have never agreed to be in. "This is so embarrassing" you sat back down, deliberately ignoring him.

----------------------------- The soft breeze moves past through the tip of your hair. The distant birds chirping, blending with the rustling of tree leaves. The rhythm of your heart in constant sync of your calm breathing. It was peaceful. Isolated but calming. The sudden distant crunches of fallen leaves. 'Hmm... Animals?' The sound slowly approaches the area. 'Footsteps. Human' You quickly turned your head to look towards the sound. Making sure your assumptions were true. There stood a person walking with a confident stride towards your place. A tall man with striking white outfit. Seemingly unfitting to be walking around the area. You didn't want to look at his face but from your peripheral vision, you could tell that his hair color was light colored. The rare type. 'Trouble' You quickly packed your things. The bottle of black ink was securely closed. The book was carefully placed into your bag along with your quill pen. Before the person reached the area, you were long gone. Leaving nothing but light shoe prints. The next day, you went there again as you've always do since the past months. The forest area nearby the seashore was a comfort place for you to write the volumes of stories you've previously written. Now you were halfway writing the fourth volume. You were prepared with ideas and planning for the next chapters but to your disappointment a person was already there. Successfully occupying the area before you. Just from the striking white color themed outfit, even at that distant you could tell that it was the same person from before. You sigh softly, knowing that you were unable to write at your favorite place today. Nobody owns the place but knowing that there's a person nearby would only mean that it wasn't isolated. It wasn't calming. Your definition of peace was taken away. Days turns into weeks, then into months. He would occasionally come there. Once, twice or trice a week he will be there earlier during random days. You couldn't predict which day he would be there in a week but if he's there you wouldn't have a chance and had to go somewhere else. One day, as usual you were hoping he wasn't there and turns out it was your lucky day. He wasn't at the area. You carefully placed down your book and a bottle of black ink. You were ready to write down your thoughts when suddenly a disturbance of something falling from the tree behind you instantly made you to react towards it.  It was him. He jumped down from the tree brunches. He must've had been up the tree for awhile and you failed to notice it. From that moment, you have to made sure that the next time, you would check on the trees too. Otherwise you would be in this same trouble. Without hesitation, you quickly but carefully packed your things into your bag. You weren't giving any chance to be in any interaction with this unknown stranger. Especially when you're in this area where nobody comes by. You stood up and was ready to run if necessary. "Hey" You were already 10 steps away. "Wait!" You frowned but stopped on your tracks and waits for him to say what he was going to say. "Sorry to disturb you. I just want to ask for your opinion" You turned around to face him but your eyes were looking elsewhere but him. "If you're willing of course..." He continued but you stayed silent. "It's a letter I wrote. I want you to read it and tell me your honest opinions about it" Assuming that you agreed to him as you just stayed there, he then hands you a folded piece of paper. You took a few steps closer and carefully took it from his hands but eventually you distance yourself a few meters away again. With your fast reading skills, you were able to read it faster than a usual person would do. If it was based on your experience, the letter was probably 3000 words long. It was an invitation to a writer who was not named yet. Probably for confidential measures you assumed. "It's fine" For the first time, you spoke to him. "How fine?" He questions back. "8 out of 10" "What did I lack?" "First, there is no such written words that are perfect. Second, it depends on the person who reads it" You didn’t notice it because you weren't looking at his face this whole time, but he smiled after listening to your opinions. Seemingly amazed by those words from you. You folded the letter as how it was previously given and hands it back to him. "Thank you" You slightly nod and quickly walks away. The encounter was something you'd never expect but you weren't going to let that happen again. Days turns into weeks, you would always check the trees and made sure he wasn't there before going to the area. You want to give up the area and completely go to somewhere else but you decided to stay until you’re finish with writing the fourth volume. You didn't want to ruin the feelings you had especially when in the process of writing it halfway. Another day came by and you thought the coast was clear... "Hello again" You almost dropped your quill pen but quickly calmed yourself down. You slightly looked up to the side away from your book indicating that you noticed him. Since you were seated under the Sakura tree, you could see his black shoes, slightly shining, reflecting the morning sunlight. 'How come I didn't notice him?' you thought slightly feeling defeated by this consistent rival of yours. Well at least that's how you label him. "May I sit here, under this tree too?" You hesitated but eventually replied with a "Sure". The moment he sat down, you already started packing your things. "You don't have to leave. I'll go somewhere else" as he quickly noticed you. "No, no. It's fine. I was done here anyway" "Really?" You couldn't really tell but he was genuinely disappointed. Even if you did, you wouldn't understand why he would react like that. You just nod before preparing to leave. "Wait, why don't I just take the place right there."  He somehow points towards another tree opposite your left side. "You can just stay here. I won't disturb you" Seeing that you were silent he then adds. "I think you were still in a middle of a sentence earlier. I must've disturbed you. Please do forgive me" Somehow you do felt guilty for making him feel that way even though you didn't meant to hurt anyone's feelings. You were just being yourself, trying to aim your definition of inner peace. "It's alright and I'm sorry too" He lightly laughed, it was something you'd never expect of him to react. "Don't worry about me, I don't mind at all" If you were looking up, you'd see him smiling yet again but your eyes were nowhere near looking at him. Nevertheless, you can feel that he was happy. A sudden change in his emotions which was obvious even if you weren't paying that much attention. Due to his insistence, you indirectly agreed to his offer and stayed there. At first you couldn't really focus because you were aware of his existence nearby the area. You weren't used to it. Takes a while for you to regain focus. After hours of writing, pages after pages, you didn't notice the sun was setting. "Miss, aren't you heading home yet?" You then instantly remember that the person was also here. "Go ahead. I'll get going now" You slightly look at his side but continued on writing. It was obvious that you weren't done. The setting sun was halfway gone and finally you finished writing the chapter. Satisfied with your work, you quickly packed up. "Done?" A voice asked above you. 'He's been standing there the whole time?' You mentally blamed your lack of attention because of your work. "You're still here?" "I suggested to wait for you while you write. You said yes" "No. I didn't?" You didn't remember the exact conversation. Surely you couldn't be that focused into the story that you'd agree with him. That’s just absurd. "It's alright. I don't mind waiting for you" "Well, sorry to trouble you then" He smiled and yet again you weren't looking. The next day, you arrived there earlier and he wasn't there. You somehow felt happy to finally have the place all by yourself. As usual you started to write the next chapter but of course unpredictable things happened again... "Good morning" 'Ugh... It's him again...' you could've rolled your eyes in annoyance but decided to stay calm. You nod and as usual wasn't interested to be in a conversation either. "Please do forgive me again, but should you be considerate enough to let me take the place near here? Under this tree?" He was now standing just at your left side. You took a glance at his place yesterday and perhaps due to the rain last night, it was covered with puddles. The sun haven't reached the area yet. You frowned and honestly felt troubled by it. "Sure." you gave up and agreed. 'How do I even write like this?' you questioned yourself. "Thank you. But don't worry you wouldn't even notice me here" You nodded, indicating that you were listening. He quietly sat down at the left side of the same tree with you. The lush leaves covered you both from direct sunlight. Although you couldn't actually see him from your peripheral vision, you could tell that if you were to stretch out your arm, your fingertips would be touching the side of his shoulder.  You hate to imagine it but the thought of it would remind you that it wouldn't be a good idea to suddenly move your hands freely. Hours past by and somehow you both were workaholics. You realized that just like you, he too had bought a bento for lunch. You find it weird but it wasn't his fault that he came prepared for the day. The fragrance from his bento was so strong that you could tell what he was eating. From what you could tell, it must've be fried tempura prawns, some tuna, rolled fried eggs... the list goes on... 'Is he having a picnic?' you almost laughed but slightly smiled instead. Unlike you who only have a few onigiri and fried rolled eggs. Simple and easy. The day went one as you both continued with your work. Only occasional the sounds from movements of feather quills on a paper was heard.  "Hey" "Mhmm" "Do you mind if I sat here again tomorrow?" "Sure." You weren't sure why you agreed but he was alright. He kept his promise to not disturb you for the whole day. That’s enough reasons for you to consider sharing the tree with him. You didn't noticed it but he was looking at you from the side. A genuine smile on his lips. However, when you see him already there the next day... You felt troubled again. Perhaps if you were to arrive first, it wouldn't be a problem. Otherwise, you just felt it unnecessary to be the one to start a conversation. Giving him a ‘Hello and Hi’ was just something normal and yet that’s just so hard for you to do. It went like that for a whole week. You just couldn’t bring yourself go there if he was the one who arrives first. Until one day, when you thought he wouldn't come by... "Good evening... I haven't seen you in a while. Have you been busy lately?" Without actually looking at his face as you usually do, you replied back. "Yeah" He slightly sighed. Seemingly disappointed. Then took the place at the left side of the same tree. Little did you know, he actually knew you had come by but instantly walks away when you saw him there.  "Uh.. can you help me. Please quick!" There was urgent in his voice. You placed down your things and looked at your side. Unexpectedly his face was already in front of you. You quickly moved back, distancing yourself away from him. "What's wrong?" It was the first time you faced him. Light blue eyes stares back at you.

"My eyes, I think something got inside" You blinked. You know you have to do something but you weren't going to just go near a stranger even in this situation. "Here, water" you quickly hands him your bottle of water. "wash it away. Quick" He looked at you with his right eye squinted. A frown was visible on his face. "Thank you" He exclaimed before taking the bottle. Eventually after a moment, his eyes were now better. His bangs and right collar was wet because of the water. "Paper fan?" You hands him a paper fan. It was the least you can do to help him dry it. Although you know it wasn't much but you didn't have a towel or handkerchief. He combed his bangs to the back using his fingers before returning you the half emptied water bottle. Before he can take the paper fan he suddenly stops. "I think, I still feel something in my eyes, can you check it? Please." He frowns again. "Your eyes? again?" You slightly panicked. He nods, seemingly rubbing his right eye. As much as you hate to even get any closer, you gather all the courage you have, just to help him. After all, one cannot see without an eye. "You're so tall... How do I-" He instantly kneeled down which made you quickly took a few step back. It was unimaginable that he'd be in such position. "Uhm... can you stop moving for a bit" He instantly stops. You frowned. Seemingly questioning how this person was reacting towards every words you say. It was as if he’d do anything you say. Utterly questionable.    "Just tilt your head up a bit." Your hands slowly approaches his face. Only you know how hard you were trying to surpass your hands from trembling out of nervousness. Petting a cat was calming but touching another person face is different. Your fingertips, lightly touched his eyelids. You then bring your face to the side to take a closer look. "An eyelash" you told him. "Maybe you'll need more water?" You adds. "Can't you just blow it away?" "Huh? No." You were quick to retrieve away. "I'm sorry, for troubling you" he apologized. "Here. Just use all of the water. It's fine" you hands him back the water bottle. "Thank you" For the first time, you witnessed the genuine smile on his lips. You noticed the beauty mark under the left side of his lips. That day, it must've be one of the moments you didn't expect for it to ever happened but somehow it was forcing you to feel slightly accepting his existence around you. A slight conversations with him felt acceptable. Despite that, you still couldn't really look him on the face. You were able to that day, only because of such circumstances. He was sometimes a bit talkative but you'd just casually replied him with the 'yes' and 'no'. You thought it was rather impolite but having too much conversations wasn't really something you'd prefer to begin with. "Wanna come with me, walk by the seashore?" He enthusiastically invited you. "N-" "Wait, before you say no... You actually don't have to walk beside me." You once warned him not to be physically too close whenever he wants to be around you. So he must've thought about it beforehand. "Let's tie a string on our fingers" You frowned. "No. What if you fall down while walking and my fingers broke?" "How about our wrist then?" He suggested again. Somehow you could feel that he was grinning about the idea. "That's childish" you almost laugh. Without actually waiting you to agree, he hands you one end of the string. The string was a few meters long. You sighed but calmly tie a knot on your wrist. He did the same. As you both walked down towards the seashore, you could already feel the constant soft sea breeze. You were walking two meters behind him. Unquestioningly, you somehow let him lead the way. He would occasionally check up on you, just to see if you were doing fine. That one time you nearly slipped, he'd almost run back towards you. "I'm fine" you stopped him to come any closer. He nods and continued the route he'd probably had planned in mind. Only until you've reach the beach, it was finally more calming to walk. You were enjoying the view when his voice suddenly pulled you back. "I haven't asked you yet, but what's your name?" He slightly turned. "My name?" You obviously wasn't interested to tell him your name. "My name's Kamisato Ayato. How about you?" He questions you the second time. Seemingly not giving up. "Kamisato... Ayato..?" You repeated his name, as if you could barely pronounce it. "Yeah, but you can call me Ayato" He smiled. "Kamisato Ayato, the head of Kamisato clan?" He laughs "You don't have to exaggerate that" "So, how about you? What's your name?" He wasn't looking at you at that moment but he could tell that you were lightly tugging on the string. He then reflexively turned towards you, thinking you'd probably had lost your balance again. However, he was surprised that you were just standing there, trying to open the knot you've previously tied on your wrist. "Wh- what happened? Wait, are you leaving?" You ignored him. Your main priority was to get away from him as soon as possible and just disappear. Just by the look on your face, he could tell that if anything, this would be the last time he'd ever see you again. He could feel the thin relationship he'd tried so hard to build himself between you and him was quickly crumbling away. "Don't go.. I was- I was just joking" he was desperately trying to find an excuse for you to stay. "What?" You stopped and looked at him with a frown. Sweat was visible on the side of your face.

You have never met or seen the real Commissioner, Kamisato Ayato ever since moving to Inazuma since years ago. You only heard that he was young and capable. In fact, you have never seen anyone from the Kamisato clan before. You’ve been always living a quiet life and have been ignoring things that are not your concern.    He walks towards you but still keeping a distant. "The Kamisato clan is just a distant family of mine. My name is still Ayato because who wouldn't want to name their son with the same name as the head of the clan, right?" He tried so hard to show you a smile. "Really?"

For an instant his heart could've stopped if you were not to believe the lies that he shouldn't be telling you. "Yes, what else should I be? I'm nothing special" ’The actual Commissioner should be very busy instead of being here right’ you tried to believe him. If you were to look at him closer, you'd noticed that he was sweating nervously. "Don't joke around. I don't like to be fooled." you warned him, slightly frowning. He just sheepishly smiled. "Please do forgive me, now... If you were to just consider my request and bless me with your name?" He was quick to change the topic. "It's y/n". "y/n. I love that" "Love is a heavy word. You shouldn't use it lightly" You didn't noticed how harsh your words were to others but somehow you were able to freely say it out loud to him. "I'm just being honest. That's my opinions about your name" "How about my name? How would you rate it?" He then adds. "I'll answer you once we're under the shades" you points towards the area where sunlight was covered by the trees. He agrees to the suggestion as you both sat under the same huge tree. "9 out of 10" "Why?" "There's no such name that is perfect" He laughed. Seemingly amused by your words yet again. "What would you rate your own name? Is it 10 out of 10?" "My name? It’s 1 out of 10" He looks at you. Slightly frowning. "It's just self motivation. Just my name won't make me perfect. I, myself need to try my best to be better." You calmly adds your reasons. "I don't really understand the logic but you should know that I genuinely love your name" You nodded at the remark and eventually you both went silent. Seemingly enjoying the view but perhaps both were deep in thoughts. "y/n what do you think of the Kamisato clan?" He suddenly questions you after a long while. "Politic. Trouble. Chaos." "I'm sorry, but that's too hard for me to understand" He looks at you, seemingly seeking something from you. "One, the political turbulence is unpredictable and dangerous. All lies and deceit as they chase for the things they desire. Two, there is no doubt that the Kamisato clan is under constant trouble. Three, chaos is something they can't prevent which will involves everyone in the estate." You looked at him, this was the second time. Your eyes met. "I'll be gone by today if you're reporting me to the clan" "Of course not. I'm sure, the Kamisato clan wouldn't mind. You were just being honest about the truth. There is nothing I wouldn't agree about." You finally looked away, deciding to believe him yet again.  "y/n I wanna bring you to have lunch, will you come?" You were quite hungry yourself, so it wouldn't be bad to eat out somewhere nearby. "Where?" "Coming?" "Alright" Although he didn't answer you the place, but you could accept that. It took a few minute walk but you were sure this was the path towards the Kamisato estate. Before even arriving to Inazuma, you have prepared yourself and memorized the map. The last place you'd ever want to enter was obviously where he was bringing you. "Come, we're near" Ayato suddenly felt a tug on his wrist. He instantly turn to check up on you. The look on your face tells him that you were hesitant to even take another step. "They're my cousins, well distant. I know they're out at Inazuma city right now. It's just me and my younger sister. We're just visiting the family" You sighed and calmed yourself to join him. "Are there many workers? Guards? That's too many people" You stopped again. Ayato quickly walks towards you. "I'll tell them to quiet down. No servants or guards will appear, how about that?" You finally agreed to his suggestions. He smiled and quickly untied his knot. "Hold this for me, I'll be right back" You nodded and took a hold of the string. A few moments later, he came back and unquestioningly tied the end of the string back on his wrist. "Lunch is ready, I hope you'll like it" He beamed a smile from which you weren't looking again.

You nervously entered the Kamisato estate. The place was decent. You could tell that everything was nicely prepared. "We're just going to have lunch here" He walks you towards the table. His younger sister was there. You could tell that she was probably a few years younger than you.

Light blue eyes. Hair color similar with the person standing beside you. Her outfit was elegant and gives out the noble status.   

"Y/n this is Ayaka, my younger sister. Ayaka, this is Y/n" He introduced you both as you smiled to her younger sister. ‘Ayaka? that seems familiar’ you thought but decides to let go of the thought. "Hello, y/n" she exclaimed and you greeted her back with a smile. Somehow, you could tell that she was a calming person to be with. 'unlike her brother' you thought. The three of you, had your lunch. The food was well prepared and was absolutely delicious. 'is this why his bento was way too grand? ' you recalled the previous days. Suddenly, a guard entered the estate and hands Ayato some folded letters. "Commissioner, you have an urgent matter to be sign" Ayato took the letters and signals the guards to leave immediately. 'Commissioner?' you knew the guards wouldn't be lying about his formal status. You slowly looked at Ayato who was at your left side. He was already looking at you. Your eyes once again met with his, those light blue pair of eyes. You sighed, trying to surpass whatever feelings you had at the moment. "Brothe-" Ayaka fell silent when she sees the tension you both were in. She could tell that something bad was happening but wasn't sure what it was about. "I'm sorry" He quickly apologized to you. "Thank you for the lunch today" you calmly replied with a smile. Your hands carefully trying to untie the knot once again. If only you have a scissor with you... You stood up even before the knot was untied. He stood up, obviously towering over you as he'd never been standing so close to you before. "Don't go..." he pleaded. His fingers lightly touched your hands to stop you. You looked at him, slightly tilting your head to see his eyes. This was the the few times you'd be staring straight at him. "y/n please stay... I..." For even once, he was out of words to say. "Just stay" Suddenly he kneels down. Now it was him who had to tilt up his head, looking up to face you. His light blue eyes, glistening, seemingly surpassing the tears that could've fall down. You frowned, feeling troubled by the situation you have never agreed to be into. "This is so embarrassing" you sat back down, deliberately ignoring him.  "Am I forgiven now?" "I don't know, why are you so dramatic?" "I'm sorry, I lied to you." Ayaka who has been staring at the sidelines was quietly sipping her tea. She finds it amusing and yet thinks that it was obviously because of her brother. "I'm sorry to interrupt your work, Lord Kamisato"  you replied back and started to pour a cup of tea. He sighed and finally sat down. Eventually he looks through the pieces of letters and went on to sign it. Perhaps giving you some time to think things through. "Tell me Ayaka, if he's busy why is he often near the seashore area?" "He actually finished most of his works early just to walk there. I didn't know he came there just to see you" "What? He actually took my favorite place and started to do his own work there" You both casually talked about Ayato who obviously could hear the conversations. He would occasionally smile at the silly remarks you both gave him. After a a while he was finally done with signing and came back to you both. "What did I miss?" He asked when he actually has been listening the whole time about every small details. You both fell silent. Seemingly already teaming up against him. He smiled, enjoying it, knowing that you both were having a good moment. "So, y/n..." He was serious yet again. "are we friends now?" "Friends? No. But I'm definitely Ayaka's friend" you managed to smile at Ayaka. She smiles back. "You just met her, like what, 40 minutes ago? And now she's your friend? How am I not?" He seems shocked which was something you'd never expect a clan leader would show. "Isn't it good enough that I'm talking with you right now?" He sighed, acting disappointed. "Ayaka, she always hurts my feelings" Ayaka laughed at her brother. "I don't know brother, you solve it yourself" Eventually you finished your cup of tea and this time you really had to leave. "Thank you for the tea Ayaka, I think I'll get going now" "See you again y/n. It was nice talking with you" Ayaka was easy for you to have a conversation with however the other person at your left side is different. You weren't sure how to actually get away from the situation. "So..." "Shall we..." Ayato didn't give you a chance to decline and walked you out from the estate. You walked behind him as he leads you towards a nearby place outside of the estate. "y/n..." He looked at you and you quickly looked away yet again. 'What's up with him?' Somehow these type of interaction wasn't something you were used to. It's unpredictable and you aren't good at understanding it. "What is it?" If it wasn't because of the string, you'd probably had already escape. Running your way as quick as you can. Never to be seen again especially by this tall person in front of you. He heaved a sigh. Seemingly unable to say the things he wants to tell you. Never in his life he'd thought that arranging words was something hard. Eventually, he walks towards a nearby tree and sat down. Your wrist slightly pulled, so you had to walk there, following him. "What do you think of me, y/n?" After a long while he finally asked you a question. 'Trouble' you instantly thought of a word to describe how you'd think of him but you knew it was impolite. 'Maybe add a bit of sugar?' you then thoughtfully tried to make out a better sentence to describe him. "Ayato, why does it matter? My opinions aren't going to change who and what qualities you have. Just be yourself." It turns out you weren't able to give out an opinion but just tried to encourage him to be whoever he wants to be. An easier way to answer it. He laughs. "No, not like that but I appreciate it. What I meant is that..." He sighed again, unable to say something. "Now that you're friends with Ayaka, what about me?" You frowned, unable to get what he meant by that. "So you're saying you want to be my friend? I thought we were already friends?" "We are?!" He looked at you, eagerly waiting for the answer. "Well... Not really that much but-" You suddenly tried to deny it yourself because for some reasons you weren't feeling that comfortable with him. "Yes, that's what I meant by what do you actually think of me. Can you tell me about that?" "I just don't feel easy talking with you" you blurted it out. "Why?" "I just feel that way, I can't explain it exactly. How about you, why do you even care about what I think?" You were now looking at each other. Staring at those light blue eyes. He smiled. "I'm not sure since when either but the moment I know you wouldn't even look me directly in the eyes, I've fallen" Listening to his thoughts suddenly made you look elsewhere.   "What does that even mean? You're just mocking my terrible social interaction skills, aren’t you?" "You didn't do it with Ayaka. I noticed that. You can talk with her as if you’ve been friends since childhood. Isn’t it fascinating" "Whatever, the fact that you're even observing that much is questionable" You knew he was just stating facts and you weren’t able to describe the reason either. He laughs again. "As the Kamisato clan leader, that is the qualities I need" "Troublesome" You bluntly told him. "I like that." He smiles at you but this time you weren't looking at him yet again. "I still don't get it, I'm just a writer and you're... Kamisato Ayato. You should be somewhere else instead of here." "I wouldn't be here if it wasn't because of you" 'Because of me? So, it's my fault?' you thought. "I'm sorry if it was because of me. I didn't know." You seemed feeling a bit down and was unaware that you've misunderstood what he meant by that. Ayato knew that he's words wasn't helping. He still failed to make you understand but he hasn't given up. "y/n, would you just look at me?" You hesitated but decided to brave through it. It wasn't something you were able to explain why were you feeling this way. Especially when you had to face him. Those light blue eyes stare right back at you. It was unwavering, determined and yet calming. The light in his eyes was trying to convey something to you. "I have a feeling that if I were to let go of you right now, I wouldn't be able to ever see you again and you will never come back to me. When that happens, I wouldn't be able to tell you about all the things I want you to know" Well he somehow predicted what you would exactly do because the fourth volume you have written is done. You just need to compile and recheck everything before submitting it to the publisher next week. You always wants to stay hidden and find a new area when you start writing the fifth volume after this. It's undeniable that you weren't planning to further involve yourself with the Kamisato after this. The fact that you were agreeing to even join him today was just become of that. Deep down you knew, this was the last time. No goodbyes, no further interactions. Just vanish into a distant memory. "Are you dying?" You managed to question him instead of actually admitting that he actually guessed it right. He laughs at how random you can be when it's not even about him. "Even if I'm dying, I would still be in that situation. You leaving me, if that happens-" "But why does it matter if I leave you? I think you would do the same. Human heart is constantly changing." You give him a questioning look. "It's because I need you. I've always trusted my intuition and I know we're on the same page but what I can't do is proving it to you." You quickly recalled all the words he said. Trying to make sense out of the little things that has happened before between you and him. Although it wasn't much because you're always running away from him... escaping from any further interactions... you finally found a key point. "Are you talking about relationships right now? Love, dating & marriage?" You casually asked. He looked surprised but instantly nodded his head. "That? Really? Are you older than me? Otherwise-" "I- of course, I'm older than you" Although he wants to keep a serious face, he can't help but laugh at your question. You lightly laugh too joining him, you knew it but had to ask anyway. "Don't you have an arrange marriage instead? Stabilizing the noble status & political power" The look on his face tells you that he wasn't expecting you to be this direct. For you to say these things as if it’s trivial matter was something he would never expect. "I'm the head of Kamisato clan, I get to decide" he smiled confidently. For the first time, you didn't try to hide your slight annoyance and rolled your eyes. "Relationship is like a story plot, you need to have the beginning & ending. Can you see the ending now? Even if it's in the distant future, you need to have a clear vision of it" He silently agrees that you were a hidden gem. "I think about it everyday" He softly smiles at you. You looked at him in disbelief. "Aside from that..." You completely ignored his questionable answer. "Loyalty, freedom and respect is also important in a relationship. It's a responsibility. Don't you think it's too much?" "What else do you need? Just tell me and it will be done" he replied assuringly. "How about you Ayato, what do you expect from me?" You looked at him waiting for his replies. "Can I hold your hands? Or walk side by side with you?" Eagerness was reflecting on his eyes.

Those requirements from him was extraordinarily simple. Even you thought it was quite an odd request but at least its something you could accept and agree. It won’t cause you a fortune, so... why not, right? "Not too much, otherwise-" "Understood" he quickly replied with a grin. You nodded and stayed silent afterwards. Indicating that you didn't have other things to say. "So... What do you think about it, what's your final decision?" "Decision about what?" You replied, acting clueless. "You agreeing about having a..." He paused. Seemingly unable to say it out loud. "...relationship with me, Kamisato Ayato" he finally managed to say it. "I didn't know you're so shy to say the word 'relationship'?" You teased him with a slight smile. Somehow something was lift from your shoulder. You felt as if talking to him has become easier. Apparently after witnessing him slightly blushing, you calmly replied back with a single word. "Alright" "Thank you, y/n" he managed to say with a smile. After months of persistence, he finally got your heart. It was utterly challenging even for him. Trying to predict all the possibilities by using his brilliant brain. He had to take another step ahead just so he gets to just reach you. "I should send you home now" he stood up and offered you a hand from which you took it. (That’s how it all begins)

Check out the [ Story List ] for the other sequence in Inexpressible Series

[fandomlovingfreak]

It Was Written on Their Wrists in Stars (ch4/?)

Egon Spengler/F!Reader

Ch1. Ch2. Ch3. Ch5. Ch6. Ch7. Ch8. Ch9. Ch10.

Rating: General Audiences

Includes: Soulmate marks, soulmate fic, Socially Drinking, slight Peter Venkman x reader

Word Count: 1382

MasterList Link I AO3 Link I Wattpad Link

Summary: Ever since you were a child, you had dreamed about getting your mark and finding the perfect person. When you finally got your mark, a quarter-sized star on the inside of your wrist, you were delighted! Your fairytale romance was just getting started. Egon didn’t believe in fate. He didn’t believe that a mark on your body meant something just because it matched a mark on someone else’s body. When he woke up one morning and found a star on his wrist, he brushed it off. Moles could be star-shaped, he supposed.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Ghostbusters (sad, I know). This work has not been created for profit or financial compensation, and is a transformative fair use work in accordance with Section 107 of the United States Copyright Act.

Notes: Sorry for the delay in posting. I took a mental health break and then work got busy... and THEN my laptop DIED! The verdict is in on that one too :( It’s a goner. I had to purchase a new one (which TOTALLY sucks because it was only 1 1/2 years old ugh!!!) But I hope you enjoy this chapter! I suppose it’s some Peter/Reader too.... but it’s not endgame so don’t worry!

Enjoy

"So, any big plans this summer?" I lift my fruity drink to my lips, trying not to grimace at the sugary vodka flavor. Tears spring to my eyes in response to the offensive flavor, and I try desperately to blink them away.

"Work mainly," Peter leans back in his chair, "The guys and I might take a road trip out of the city for the fourth. What about you?"

More than excited to talk about my newly acquired internship, I beam at him, "I was selected for the internship with Doctor Leinonen."

"Oh wow, congratulations. So you're the lucky student who gets to work with Spengler this summer."

The smile slips away from my lips. The universe was seriously dead set on making avoiding Egon hard for me.

Out of all the ways to find out who your internship partner was, this has to take the cake. The whole dynamic between myself and these two men has already been challenging. In usual fashion, I was the one who held the truth about the situation. Because of this, I felt strangely guilty to be going out with my match mark's good friend.

"Oh."

Peter smiles, his brow raised and painted with humor, "Does that sound like a bad time?"

I shake my head, "Of course not. Good for him. I know how important these internships can be in determining graduate school."

"Brainiac doesn't need to worry about graduate school, trust me."

I tilt my head, wondering if I heard him correctly, "Is that what you call him? Brainiac?"

Peter smirks, leaning further into his chair. He really plays up the whole nonchalant thing. "On occasion. Fits pretty well, don't you think?"

"Huh--" I try to hide my interest in this new knowledge about Egon by taking another sip of my awful drink. Again, the sweetness coats my tongue, making me want to gag. Hoping to avoid this mistake for the third time, I set the drink down further from my salad plate.

Peter's eyes follow my hand as I move the drink away, "Why do you ask?"

I mean to laugh it off, but it comes out as a nervous sort of titter, "Brainiac is uh-- my nickname. Well, only my roommate really uses it..." No one needs to know that! Especially not the man I'm on a date with, and extra especially when he's just said he teases his friend with the same stupid nickname.

Besides, I probably sound too excited over this odd connection between Egon and me.

"Small world," Peter says before changing the subject, "The internship should be a breeze with Egon as your partner, though. I'd never admit it to him, but he's near-genius. Even if he is an oddball."

I try not to look offended by this comment. Egon wasn't an oddball! Peter may as well have called me an oddball if that's how he really felt about Egon.

It's hard to control the coldness in my voice, "I spent the past week studying with him. He seems very dedicated to his work."

"Oh, I didn't know you knew him."

I try to avoid his eyes by looking down at my lap, "I wouldn't say I know him. I've met him at best."

"Dedicated is a nice way to put it. He's obsessive when it comes to that notebook. Spends his Saturday's shut up in his room with a pizza and whatever he's working on at the moment. You witnessed one of the rare times he's gone out with us for a drink. Not that he had anything but water, but still."

"He doesn't drink?" The question slips out before I can stop it. 

Peter frowns, probably wondering why I'm so interested in Egon. Jesus-- this was such a bad idea.

"Yeah. At least I've never witnessed him drinking."

"Interesting." 

It looks like I've thrown Peter off his game as a long pause of awkward silence comes over us. 

"But, you're friends with Ray, right?" 

"I am," I nod, "I've known him since Sophomore year."

"It's funny how we never crossed paths before, being in the same department and all." Ah, I haven't completely shaken him with my questions.

"It's a rather large department," I smile. 

"Are you ready to order?" Our waiter interrupts. I want to thank the young man. 

Peter gives me a look, probably letting me decide if we were ready to order or not.

"Oh yes. I'll have the grilled chicken sandwich with the garden salad, please."

The waiter scribbles down the order before turning towards Peter, "And you, sir?"

"The cheeseburger with waffle fries." 

My mind wanders for a second back to Egon. I wonder what he would order. It's an odd enough thought to get stuck in; I don't hear the waiter ask for my menu until Peter's saying my name.

"Oh, sorry," I hand the man my menu, avoiding Peter's eye.

He's still watching me long after the waiter leaves.

It makes me nervous the way he's looking at me. Not the good kind of nervousness where your body fills with warm happiness. Peter's doing something closer to analyzing me.

"So," I clear my throat, "What are you planning on doing after graduation?"

"I'm staying right here in Colombia. I imagine you have a similar plan?"

"Uh-- not exactly. I'm hoping for Harvard or Yale."

He whistles, "You got big plans?"

"There are some doctors I'd like to work with professionally at both Universities. Of course, I wouldn't be upset going to Columbia for graduate school."

"No, no. Just admit we're your last choice." There's a sparkle in his eyes.

I love that he can easily make me laugh. "It's nothing against Columbia. I just would like to see what other programs are like." Which is completely true. I never planned on doing graduate school at Columbia. The plans hadn't changed since meeting Egon-- 

There goes my mind again, wandering to Egon.

***

Peter's lips crash against mine, hands firm on my waist. I try not to think about how wrong this whole thing feels. He's too domineering, his hands too rough. 

The uncomfortable sensation that follows kissing someone new, combined with the awkwardness of kissing someone in the middle of a sidewalk, makes the kiss tense.

I try not to flinch as his hands being to descend lower.

Nope, I'm a chicken. I pull away, placing my hands on his chest to keep him at arm's length.

I go for the fake yawn behind the hand trick, "It's late."

Peter reaches for my waist again, "It is."

Politely as possible, I try again, "Thank you for dinner." Maybe some of the girls he went with wanted to sleep with him on the first date, but after that kiss, was he really expecting much?

He seems to get the message, "We should do it again sometime."

I smile, "We should."

Peter steps down the steps. He doesn't look upset, which I'm surprised about. "I'll call you."

Maybe he wasn't as... well, demanding as I initially thought. He's certainly taking this small rejection well, better than most men I've gone out with, "Goodnight, Peter."

"Goodnight, (y/n)."

***

I slide down my bedroom door, feeling like I'm doing something awful. I could admit to myself that I hadn't been present in the kiss, maybe not the entire date. The feeling that I was doing something wrong, not morally per se, but wrong for me, sat in the pit of my stomach the entire night.

Maybe it was a tiny bit wrong. Or maybe I was looking at this from a romantic novel perspective instead of through the view of a romantic comedy. I mean, this is what that is, isn't it? I know my soulmate, and I'm still willingly going out with his friend? I certainly hadn't planned for my "great love story" to veer dramatically towards comedy. 

If I had given up on finding a table that day at the library, I wouldn't be in this mess. I wouldn't care so much that Peter wasn't "prince charming" because there wouldn't be someone to compare him to.

I wouldn't dare explain any of these thoughts to Monica. For one, she didn't have any clue about the star on Egon's wrist, and secondly, she would think I was being ridiculous.

Monica, like Ray, wouldn't understand why I haven't told Egon about the marks.

[fireemblems24]

Ao3 Ship Thoughts

To sate my desire to read Three Houses fan fiction and jump in on the shipping comments that have upticked recently, I decided to see what ships were the most popular on Ao3.

Some of it's exactly what I expected, and one in particular is just . . . what, why?

Ao3 is probably the closest you'll get to truly determining which ships are the most popular, or at least have the highest number of passionate fans. So I was curious to see who the top ships were. Here's the ones listed, in order:

Sylvain/Felix

Dimitri/Byleth

Edelgard/Byleth

Ferdinand/Hubert

Claude/Byleth

Dimitri/Felix

Dimitri/Claude

Felix/Annette

Caspar/Linhardt

Hilda/Marrianne

If I exclude the Byleth ships, Dimitri/Dedue, Byleth/Seteth, and Ingrid/Sylvain take up the three missing spots.

Byleth's Ships

I'm shocked. Really, truly shocked that Byleth/Lord is popular. Never wouldn't guessed. I am, of course, being sarcastic. If someone asked me to list who I think would show up in the top 10 most popular ships, the first three I'd list would be Byleth/Lord.

What I find more interesting is that Byleth/Seteth is the fourth option for Byleth. AO3 writers, I officially bow to your taste. It pleases me quite a bit that, if you're not going with one of the main lords, you all want Seteth. This I can agree with.

As for the Byleth/Lord ships, I feel kind of mixed on them. Every lord interacts with characters who have more depth than Byleth, but I still get the appeal. I'm going to deep dive into all of the lords relationships with Byleth later, but here's a quick summary.

Edelgard/Byleth is shoved down your throat so hard it's nearly impossible to ship Edelgard with someone else and even shortchanges her potential to have deep, non-romantic relationships because Edelgard puts Byleth on a pedestal that no one else can reach by her own dialogue.

Byleth's character arc works well alongside Dimitri's. While the relationship is pushed and fanservice-y scenes exist, the game leaves enough breathing room to see Byleth as a mentor/therapist/teacher figure, and Dimitri has no shortage of deep, meaningful relationships with others should you not want to do the whole self-insert thing. It's a good balance.

Claude and Byleth are the opposite of Edelgard and Byleth. They read almost more like friends than lovers. It's a breath of fresh air, honestly. Claude/Byleth seems like the healthiest possible romance for Byleth/lord because the lord in question here doesn't seem as dependent. That said, it lacks lacks romance and shipping fuel. I may complain about fanservice, but the Byleth/Claude dynamic does show why scenes of holding hands in the rain and teasing about badly drawn images might actually come in handy.

Edelgard's Ships

I'm not surprised, at all, that Edelgard has no popular ships outside of Byleth. Dialogue consistently shortchanges Edelgard's relationships with others by having her verbally, repeatedly put Byleth into a special "other" that no one else can reach for her.

Though, I guess I'm a bit surprised at the extreme lack of Edelgard/Hubert. I feel these two have a lot of shipping fuel and their supports left things unresolved. I've come across the sentiment in fandom many times that ship where things are tied off nicely with a bow leave less to explore and aren't as interesting, so I am bummed out no one seems interested in fleshing out Hubert/Edelgard more.

The outlook for Edelgard fanfic and me seems pretty limited. I don't like Edelgard/Byleth for various reasons beyond this scope of this post. I was kind of hoping there were some Edelgard/Hubert or Edelgard/Dorothea character study stuff that could help me get past how much Byleth gets in the way of Edelgard's character growth, but it seems fanfic writers only want to write about her and Byleth, which is a bummer.

On that note, I'm also surprised but also glad that Dimitri/Edelgard isn't a big thing. I thought it might be because tragedy of childhood friends turned enemies by events out of their control is popular. These two seem wildly incompatible though, so I'm glad people seem to agree.

Claude's Ships

Ok. Claude/Byleth. Expected. I'm feel positively towards the ship since they seem mostly good for each other even if it's not getting my heart all fluttering.

I'm surprised there's no Claude/Petra or Claude/Hilda. Those two are my personal favorites for him. I would've given Claude/Petra the edge given how they can uniquely relate to each other, but Hilda's scene in CF really gave Petra a run for her money. Even more so that Petra and Claude have obligations to two different nations and Hilda has no such complication.

But whattttt???? Claude/Dimitri? It's in the top 10?? More people ship Dimitri with Claude than Dedue?? I thought lord/lord might be popular, but I honestly thought Dimitri/Edelgard would take it, not Claude/Dimitri. They never really talk. So I'm a bit confused about this one. Though, intrigued by the idea.

Can I take a wild guess this partly stems from Claude having no real other viable M/M ships outside of M!Byleth and fics that plays up the chapter I'm about to play in AM (Dimitri saving Claude) or "what ifs" VW routes where Dimitri doesn't . . . you know.

I am really curious about this dynamic though. Because I like Claude - a lot. He's a character I want to get attached to. From experience, the fastest way for me to like a character is to give them a significant relationship I enjoy with a character I already love and the new character gets absorbed by proxy. So, fans, please, tell me more about this Dimitri/Claude. I am curious.

Dimitri's Ships

I am as unsurprised by Dimitri's being one of the biggest repeat offenders on here as I am by Edelgard being Byleth or bust. If Edelgard is written to fanservice the player by making the self-insert her one and only, Dimitri is fanservicing the player by being a shipping magnet. The writers knew what they were doing and who they were trying to appeal to with these two characters.

Dimitri/Byleth is a given. The game plays up the romance angle, but it's not at the expense of Dimitri's other relationships.

What I'm more interested in, though, is Felix/Dimitri. Between angsty CF stories, post-AM slow-burns, or fleshing out missing scenes from their shared childhood, there's just a lot to work with and a rich context to use their relationship - spun romantically - to explore each character. Felix and Dimitri's relationship is layered, complicated, heart breaking, and potentially healing. The fact they're two incredibly attractive guys doesn't hurt its popularity either, I'm sure. I'm not surprised it ranked that highly.

Claude/Dimitri surprises me. If two lords were going to get on this list together, I would've put bets on Edelgard/Dimitri. Since Claude and Dimitri's relationship is fairly unexplored, I'm really interested to see more about what exactly this is about. Don't get me wrong. I figured people would pair two main characters who are that good looking together, I just didn't think it would rank that high.

I am, slightly sad, that Dimitri/Dedue isn't a bit higher, but happy it seems to have some steam. I get it though. Dedue's not as flashy as some of the others on the shipping list and their relationship is so full of fluff by their A support it lacks the angst Felix/Dimitri and Dimitri/Byleth can draw out nor is as much of a play around with "what ifs" as Claude/Dimitri is.

Non-Lords/Main Characters Ships:

This list, more than anything else, shows AO3's penchant for writing M/M and F/F works for better or worse. Whether this phenomena stems from lack of representation, fetishizing by the fanbase, deeply ingrained gender roles making fictional M/F ships either less appealing to many fanfic writers, or M/F romances often getting assumed leading to less substantial writing compared to friendships - I don't know. Probably all of it.

There are a few surprises here for me. Felix/Sylvain is that popular? I figured they'd make the top 10, but #1 is surprising. Though, looking through the first page of the tag, it's true Felix/Sylvain have fics just for them, but it also seems like a common pairing in Dimitri/Byleth and Dimitri/Claude fics. It's the same story with Caspar/Linhardt, who I honestly didn't expect to see. They had a fair number of their own fics, but it seems many CF fics put them together rather than focus solely on them. Felix/Annette also balances being the main focus and an adjunct pairing. Marianne/Hilda seemed to have less fics where they took center stage and more they were one of many ships listed.

Ferdinand/Hubert having a lot of fics isn't surprising. I don't really care too much for it personally, but I can see the appeal of it.

I'm surprised Catherin/Shamir is nowhere in sight. Likewise, Rhea is absolutely nowhere. Kind of sad by the lack of adult characters in general. Especially Rhea. I think it's a pretty big sign of how the writing's treated her that such an important character is totally absent in this list.

Not surprised at all to see Felix also get so many ships. He, like Dimitri, seems designed on purpose to ship with many characters. I do really wish Dorothea and Seteth would get more attention though.

What do you guys think? Anything that surprised you? How do you feel about any of these ships and there popularity or lack thereof? Are there characters/pairings you wish got more attention? Any popular ships you despise (spill that tea)?

[queerwritersingerdramaqueen]

Oh. My. Fucking. GODS BITCHES.

There is so much fucking hurt coming this way. 

But! You all know the drill! SPOILERS FOR THE VENGEANCE SAGA PAST THIS POINT. IF YOU HAVE NOT LISTENED TO IT, DON’T SPOIL IT FOR YOURSELF IT’S FUCKING INSANE AND THE SURPRISE FACTOR MAKES IT SO MUCH BETTER. 

FIRST OF ALL, HOLY FUCK SHIT WENT SIDEWAYS SO FUCKING QUICK. BETWEEN THE WIND BAG AND THE SIX HUNDRED STRIKE. I’M QUAKING IN MY BOOTS.

This saga is the long awaited conclusion to the Mycroft vs William debacle and it requires a LOT of backstory so bear with me. 

So, at some point before the Vengeance saga (can be in between then and the wisdom saga, or even earlier than that) Mycroft and Albert hooked up. This very funny idea is brought to you by Steven Rodriguez’s “Like You Mean It” and “The Devil Wears Lace” and it’s basically brought up by a very drunk Karaoke session and one thing leads to another. Anyway, the short relationship doesn’t end well since Mycroft has a bit of a “Fuck, I slept with the enemy” moment (he’s still very much on the defense when it comes to Sherlock) AND IT GETS A LITTLE MESSY. Mycroft doesn’t completely ghost Albert but he does sort of step back when Albert starts showing genuine affection for him (oh boy, I’ve never written Alcroft angst centred around Mycroft before, Albert is usually the one who needs to get his shit together). Regardless, William is now doubly pissed at Mycroft, Albert’s sad and Sherlock is just shaking his head in disappointment because if he’s the only one who pulled his head out of his ass, then they're all doomed. The OTHER really big thing to remember during this saga is that Mycroft didn’t know ANYTHING about Sherlock and William leading up to the performance. He and Sherlock (especially since the Ruthlessness fiasco) haven’t talked heaps and Mycroft hasn’t been on set since then either. Sherlock does appreciate his brother looking out for him; he does NOT appreciate Mycroft threatening him through song. 

Most of the rest of the cast are kind of just chilling watching this all go down on the side with a bucket of popcorn. They know better than to get involved with the Lord of Crime and the Government when they’re fighting. 

So this saga summed up: the in-laws are FIGHTING

But without further ado, let's get into it

The Vengeance Saga: 

Not Sorry for Loving you - I’m going to preface this one that I am entirely open to any kind of criticisms that may be had about my approach to this song. I’ve never been in that kind of situation and I’m interpreting the song as sung by someone who hasn’t actively kept their “partner” prisoner for seven years. When I listen to “Not Sorry for Loving You” and put it in the perspective of Albert, it sounds much less like an abusers half-assed apology (when it comes from Calypso, then I can hear the bullshit). So with that in mind, feel free to make suggestions and criticisms, I’m completely open to that. Hell, I even ewncourage them because I don't want to be an asshole here.

So, Albert’s rendition of this song obviously doesn’t come from a place of (romantic) love for William but he’s projecting onto him big time. To further emphasise this point, Albert’s not looking at him throughout the song. He could be doing that fourth-wall break again but this time with trying to make the audience sympathetic (god, outside of the AU, that would be such an interesting way of doing Calypso, with her always trying to present herself as a loving, poor girl trapped on an island, making even those who know how wrong she is sympathetic). That first part where he says “That you’re not mine to save” ties in really fucking well to that chapter where Albert blames himself for being the reason William fell. I also can’t believe I managed to kind of catch that in the wisdom saga during Love in Paradise. The thing I’m trying to go for here is letting Albert get some of his frustration out, because he hasn’t had the best luck with family or dating and even friends, so when he meets Mycroft and he finds all those things in him, it’s amazing. This probably would not come across in the actual performance (he does still have a role to play) but counteractive to Calypso deflecting her actions during the Pre-chorus, Albert is owning up to his faults, even when they’re not actually that bad. Mycroft’s guilt over the whole Sherlock/William thing is to blame, not Albert; but he blames himself anyway. A very large portion of this would rely on the writer’s (AKA. my own) ability to get that message across and I totally understand if I haven’t made it make sense. During the bridge part, “I’m angry and tired and restless and sad” the frustration hits a peak and Albert’s venting a little bit on wanting Mycroft to let go of his little (kinda petty) feud with William (and maybe still being kind of pissed at William for doing what he did (Albert and Sherlock are besties and you can fight me on that, you won’t win)). William’s “I love you/but not in the way you want me too” is less about being the object of Albert’s anger/affection and more like “This song isn’t for me, but I do love you brother and you’ll get through this.” And the damn kind of just breaks from there as Albert watches William “sail” away. 

Dangerous - THE BOY IS BACK!!!!! HERMESSSSSSS! JAMESSSSSSSS! You don’t understand how actually HYPED I am that James is back in this AU! Dangerous is such a fucking bop :D But before I get into it, production is a thing and it sucks to work out. Maybe Von Herder really should be just a guy out back cause I need his help figuring out how to do the raft?! For now, I’d assume it’s just on wheels and maybe actors in those dark jumpsuits are pushing it around (Like with the Cyclops puppet and what will eventually happen with Charybdis). IF they’re already on stage that's probably good too, they can pretend to be the monsters along the way and it’ll be an easy transition. AND A COUPLE OF THEM CAN BE WINIONS So plot wise, James is trying to reel William in because this man is gonna lose his shit on Mycroft in a second. The whiplash of how disco-esque Dangerous is helps in being a sort of calming factor (until the “NO” that is) for James to help William take a breath. The wind bag, once more, serves its purpose of being all the bottled up shit William (and even Mycroft to some extent, since it’s HIS storm after all) is holding onto. Most of this song is kind of just a dance break but once we get to the windbag, we get some more plot. This is William’s chance to prove he won’t let anything get in the way of him and Sherlock, his last chance to prove to Mycroft that he won’t hurt his baby brother again (and trust me, William absolutely recognises the GALL of it coming from Mycroft). It’s also his chance to show how he’s “healed,” though that’s more implied through the metaphor of the wind bag. If he has to be ruthless and give Mycroft the what for, he’s gonna do it. I’m also going to make another disclaimer that YES, I know Mycroft now sounds like an asshole. If this were a properly written fic where I could dive into nuance, I could explain the intricacies of both William and Mycroft in a probably more understanding way. As stands however *bangs pots over my head* THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, ANY ACTIONS WITHIN ARE NOT TO BE TAKEN WITH THE SERIOUSNESS OF REAL LIFE. 

(also, the “I’m not the one who fought for you” knowing it was Sherlock/Athena who fought with William through most of the hardship is fucking amazing)

Charybdis - This number requires us to look less at what’s on the stage and what’s happening backstage. Musical wise, we’ve got big puppet Charybdis. I think that style of the dragon dance would be a good way of doing it, or with the long poles to make it go really high. This piece would need some serious production work because I don’t know quite enough about that side of theatre. I’m just good at the literary stuff (in case it wasn’t obvious). We could even simulate waves with fabric being fwiped around by actors. But back on the plot stuff, William is determined. Mycroft sees this and is like, “oh we are both fucked here.” The actual emotional things happening are weird. Mycroft knows that he’s not much better than William (Though he was absolutely more direct with Albert, his reasoning was a little bullshit even to Sherlock, the guy he was doing it for). He’s feeling guilty and sad for giving up what he had and angry at William because he understands on an even more personal level how the whole situation hurts someone else. But Mycroft is seeing this determination and is deeply conflicted on how he should feel (Albert’s crying in the corner after his number and Sherlock’s stealing popcorn waiting for his boyfriend and brother to duke it out because there is no way in hell he’s defending either of them, they can work out their own shit and grovel at his feet afterwards). When William “reaches Ithaca” and is dragged back (that “NO” fucking hurt man) it’s Mycroft being like, “alright fucker, prove it” (which was the original story idea until I heard all of the vengeance saga and proceeded to lose my marbles with a subplot)

(I feel like this is a good juncture to clarify and remind everyone what actually happened. William and Sherlock had a fight because William wasn’t taking care of himself. They go through a sort of “soft-lock” breakup where they consider it all done but they never actually talk about it, so when Sherlock tries to make amends and either fix or end the relationship, William ghosts him and it’s not until the Ocean Saga that he realises how badly that hurt Sherlock. After those events (when Mycroft isn’t around to witness), William chooses to get help and he and Sherlock are slowly trying to at least repair their friendship. This is a mutual choice that they both want. Mycroft and Albert go through something different. It eventually dawns on Mycroft that Albert is in fact William’s brother and he feels like he might be betraying Sherlock by having a connection with the Moriarty’s at all. Because he’s only been in the musical for one instant, he doesn’t know about them and the developments they've made. He and Albert are not quite in an established relationship and more like sleeping together and sticking around to cuddle afterward. *bangs the pot again* FICTION PEOPLE, FEEL THE FLUFF, DROP THE STUFF. DON’T DO THIS IN REAL LIFE, LIVE VICARIOUSLY THROUGH THEM WORKING OUT THEIR ISSUES.)

Get in the Water - WHEN I TELL YOU I HAD BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT I’ve been actually fucking obsessed with how this would go and it’s the “I can’t…” that inspired a lot of what’s about to happen. So, the original plot, as mentioned above, was going to be just William getting his resolve tested by Mycroft, a test to see if he’d actually built up the courage and strength to stick with Sherlock. Now it’s a looooot more with the sub plot. “Get in the water” is now less about William not bending on getting what he wants, and more about Mycroft just wanting William to go away so 1) Sherlock can’t be hurt again (he’s clueless, remember?) and 2) so he can stop feeling guilt about pushing Albert away. He is also warring with himself somewhat and somewhere inside him he really wants William to prove him wrong. They are also playing parts so please keep that in mind with some of what they’re saying; it’s the intent and emotion behind how they're singing it that implies what they're really trying to say to each other. I also think that, while having the trident is really cool, I like the way this one animatic portrays a stage adaptation with him using long pieces of fabric coloured like the sea to throw him around a bit, tied with the other actors throwing “water” at him. The aerials are also still an option I’d like to use for the gods and the dead, and they’ll play in really well later.  William does extend an olive branch at one point, he’s not beyond the point of forgiveness yet. Maybe they can forgive each other and themselves for hurting those closest to them. That “I can’t…” though takes. Me. out. Mycroft forgiving William means forgiving himself and trying to make things right between him and Albert. He wants too but he’s fucking STUBBORN. So we get the “Ruthlessness is Mercy Upon Ourselves” bit thrown back at him again, because he truly believes that he has to be a bit self-destructive and let Albert move on without him, that he has to protect Sherlock from William. Pair that with the fact that (at least the way I write them) they never do truly “like” each other and he’s just really fucking angry at himself and William. (weird segue but I genuinely do think that, in canon post-timeskip, Mycroft wouldn’t like William for being the reason Sherlock jumped off the bridge and disappeared for three years, for making him dance in his hand, or completely overtaking his life with these cases to the point that Sherlock killed someone just to cut the strings. Kind of like the Louis/Sherlock situation, but with just an ounce more respect towards the other party, because Mycroft does understand it was still Sherlock’s choice. So in my writing at least, they usually don’t like each other all that much but they stay out of it.) Now, the last breath. I came to the really sad realisation the other day that Anticlea, Eurylochus and Polities actually make up the three original group members we meet at the start of the manga, so I’m just going to go *sobs really fucking loudly around the corner.* You don’t understand how badly this fucks me up, that this whole time, I’ve unintentionally had Fred, Moran and Louis, the first three of the crime gang to enact the plan, also be the voices he remembers whenever he’s in a tough spot. So please picture for me, William on his knees in blue light, arms raised like he’s drowning, then Fred pops up, then Moran (They make up this saga! YAY! :D), then Louis and they’re sort of cradling him until the “Ohh wahh ohoh, Odysseus” where the crew of Odysseus’ ship (portraying the majority that were drowned) lift him up off the stage and into the air (he looks like he has drowned by this point, limp and everything), showing how they will support him through this too. Then the good shit happens after the lights go out.

Six Hundred Strike - Obviously, Mycroft didn’t drown six hundred men, nor would he talk shit about William to his friends. That part is all for show so please keep that in mind. 

BUT IMAGINE PLEASE, RED SPOTLIGHT ON WHERE THEY’RE ALL LIFTING WILLIAM UP, THE WINDBAG GLOWING BLUE AS IT TRAVELS ACROSS THE CROWD TO HIM AND WHEN HE GETS A HOLD OF IT AND RELEASES IT, HE GRABS AN AERIAL ROPE AND GETS TO FLY BECAUSE HE IS USING THE POWER OF THE GODS, ER GO, HE IS FLYING LIKE THE GODS DO. PLEASE TELL ME YOU SEE THE SYMBOLISM???

All the men crowd around the stage while Mycroft and William are overhead doing some cool aerial tricks and circling each other, light now turned gold. Once shatter the ocean is dispelled, I’m tossing up if they come back down onto the stage so the men can attack or if they remain in the air and William attacks while the men goad him on. If they come back down and the men rush him, they can get backstage fairly easily, but we’d lose that sense of Odysseus using god powers. Thoughts welcome on that. After the attack, they “fal”l back onto the stage, the middle portion is raised (if you’ve ever seen & Juliet, the stage during “de Bois Bands back” is what I’m going for.) and there are white lights pointing upwards, so you can see William and Mycroft’s silhouettes. “You released my storm” is kind of Mycroft (in all his emotionally repressed idiocy) owning up that they both just lost their shit and proved they’re not “great” people.  And William, in all his “I’ve been to therapy for the last several months what the fuck do you mean I’m a bad person for feeling emotions?” decides that maybe he should just let Mycroft have it so he finally understands a thing or two. The silhouettes are important because William will be stabby for like a whole minute (speaking of that, does anyone else feel like this is the most violent and real it’s gotten since just a man? Like, yes there has been violence but it’s been a sort of mythical violence, the cyclops, the storms and the god games have been sort of disconnected from real, human malice. Little Wolf had like a taste of it but just the act of Odysseus stabbing the shit out of Poseidon, while he’s down nonetheless, just feels so much more horrifying than anything that’s already happened. It’s terrifyingly human). Also, there would be no way of making it look like he’s bleeding on stage unless he had like, fake blood packs under his clothes and I don’t know how he’d keep them there. The act of putting it in shadow, much like Gwendy’s animatic from the livestream, makes it more sinister. You can’t see it but you can definitely hear it. 

“How does it feel to be helpless? How does it feel to know pain?” Because William, during everything that had happened, had been in pain. He’d been hurting for a long time, long before the musical even started production, long before he even met Sherlock or lost his eye. “I watched my men die in Horror - Calling their captain in vain.” He’ll make Mycroft understand that he’s seen some horrible things. “Look what you turned me into, look what we’ve become.” Mycroft made this angry side in him come out, and now they’re fighting over something that could be so fixable, because if William/Odysseus had to get over his pride to move on, then Mycroft/Posieden is gonna learn the same fucking lesson. “All of the pain that I’ve been through, haven’t I suffered enough?!” When will Mycroft realise that William learnt this lesson, it’s now him who needs to get off his high horse and see what ruthlessness can do to a person? “You didn’t stop when I begged you, told me to close my heart. You said the world was dark,” William knows that what he did was wrong and he cannot make up for it, that it’ll probably scar for a while. He does not need to keep being told that, doesn’t need to be continuously told that he can’t make amends, especially when Sherlock wants him to. “Didn’t you say that ruthlessness is mercy upon our-” See what his ruthlessness bred? See what William choosing to be ruthless and telling Mycroft everything did? The stabbing stops. William goes to walk away backstage when Mycroft gives that final question. William answers truthfully, then walks away, leaving Mycroft to ruminate on his own attitude towards everything that’s happened. 

AND THAT’S IT, THAT'S THE VENGEANCE SAGA!!! These two have gotten ALL their pent up aggression out, they’ve gotten to have a little fight and whatnot, and now, they can have a proper adult conversation after the show about what’s happened and Mycroft can make up with Albert already because fucking hell, Albert’s been waiting for weeks for Mycroft to realise (or be told by Sherlock literal minutes before the show) that he’s making a lot of assumptions of the situation. 

At this juncture, I think it’s a good time to bring up Moran and William’s reconciliation because it can play really nicely into the olive branch moment. It’s probably a pretty simple moment, Moran apologises for getting angry and William apologises for not being as readily available. I think that moment where he’s trying to connect with Mycroft is a moment a bit like that, where they can acknowledge each other’s mistakes and make an attempt for peace (Mycroft just wasn’t ready to accept that forgiveness).

Again, some of the things that happen in this particular sketch of the narrative may make it seem like Mycroft and William are just assholes to each other but there is supposed to be nuance to their relationship and the relationships they have to each other’s brother. Mycroft needs to learn that he can’t be getting all up in Sherlock’s business and, though his protectiveness is appreciated and was at one point nice, fighting battles for him that he wasn’t even having. William, though being “rightfully” judged in this scenario, is still the bigger person until Mycroft pushes him enough. These two will be having a long and thoughtful talk (with Sherlock and Albert sitting in to make sure they hit all the targets, Louis on the side to make sure neither of them start fighting again) in which they will explain themselves and get over it all like adults. They will probably never truly like each other but they can be civil. 

I’d also like to point out, on some character development traits, Mycroft never talks shit about William, never insults his character to anyone (except maybe to Sherlock when they first break up and he’s humouring his tirades). Where he has to interact with the rest of the cast, William’s friends included, he is polite and tolerates any William talk until he can steer the topic in a different direction. It might be the fact that he had to hold in that anger that makes this outburst so bad. William, as well, doesn’t think Mycroft is a bad person for being a protective older brother (he’d be the Hypocrite then), nor is he upset that Albert and Mycroft were ever having a fling. It is the sheer similarities in their situations and the uncanny repeating of history that really drives William up the wall because he knows how you can fix or prevent this. 

The TL;DR: Louis is so fucking done with all their shit. 

I feel as though this AU may be slightly spiralling out of my control, so any thoughts on if I should reel it in or if the sub-plot is in a bit of a weird spot or even if I just have to add more on the sub-plot in the other sagas, all those thoughts would be greatly appreciated. I do feel like I might be giving these two a bit to much wiggle room for their mistakes but that could just be me. I am trying to be careful. Adding all I did definitely pleases the brainworms but the writer in me is questioning if I threw a bit too much in here.

This is a massive story at this point and I’m going to have to construct some sort of timeline or synopsis to get all my bases hit on where I am. 

As always, thank you to @aka-no-ken for listening to my ramblings and having something super helpful to say or just fangirling with me about someone’s voice. You’re a great friend!

TUMBLR, I WILL MAKE YOU POST THIS

PREVIEW: 

AKA-NO-KEN YOU ACTUAL PHSCHIC HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GUESS ALL MY GOD CASTINGS CORRECTLY???

AGAIN, WISDOM SAGA SPOILERS SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. ALSO MAYBE A TRIGGER WARNING FOR LOVE IN PARADISE CAUSE THAT WAS MORE THAN I WAS FUCKING EXPECTING.

THIS IS SHERLOCK AND BILL'S FUCKING SAGA NOW BITCHES BROS AND NON-BINARY HOES. AND AGAIN, I'M FANGIRLING AS I GO.

So, with where we left off, William's having a minor relapse in his mental state but it won't become too much of a plot point/serious thing. He and Moran are on funky terms but if there is no "reconciliation" in later sagas then We'll figure that out when we get there. Anyway, this saga ain't about him.

(ALSO, I MISSED A FUCKING OPPOURTUNITY

VON HERDER AS TIRESIAS, IM A FOOL)

Anyway, lets get started.

The Wisdom Saga:

Legendary - BILL IS HERE FUCKERS. SHERLIAM'S ADPOTED SON IS GONNA BE LEGENDARY. I really like how this parallels with Canon when Bill only knew William as a genius professor and Sherlock's actually the one who introduces them in a way. It'll set up nicely for when we get to "I can't help but wonder" and Telemachus/Bill has to toss up with the fact that his Dad just removed the twenty year problem but he did also kill a bunch of people (you know, like in canon.). So this starts out with the lights slowly coming in and Bill's "room" has a chair and a few other easily moveable props. This is a very dancey number I'm finding so these props are probably gonna get taken off stage so there can be actors milling around for Telemachus to interact with, I think he'd be mostly weaving between them trying to avoid them while they keep swiping at him. The majority of suitors can be off the stage but Antinous and a few others are up there ready for the "Whatcha gonna do about it, champ?" The lights would change on Boy to a red colour. It would be so cute seeing Billy fight for Sherlock's Honour. I think something really cool that could happen is when Telemachus sings "somebody help me" the lights flash blue for a second like Athena has heard his plea. and at the very end of the song, he punches Milverton square on the nose (in the fake way of course).

Little Wolf - My big idea for this that would absolutely not transfer over to a regular production of Epic the musical would be that Antinous/Milverton is not the one fighting Telemachus/Bill. I cannot really see Milverton fighting for himself and would definitely have lackey's doing it for him; but outside of this AU Antinous absolutely fights for himself. But yeah, Milverton mocks the shit out of Bill while he's fighting somebody. The lights stay red while the suitors and Milverton are doing their thing. When Athena appears the lights turn blue like fighting of the panic of being in a fight. I think this is one of those moments where its so fun having Sherlock as Athena and Penelope cause it's like "Don't worry baby, Mama's here to help." But, onto the super cool crossover intertexuality talk I can't seem to do right now, Sherlock as Athena fits very nicely cause he, alongside William, helps Bill get into the university; so Sherlock being the one helping in this fight reminds me of that. And Athena's "I've no respect for bullies" reminds me of his disdain for Milverton and his methods of blackmail. ALSO, HER PIANO IN THAT PART IS SO FUCKING GOOD I FUCKING ASCENDED. PAIRING IT WITHT HE DRUMS THAT WAY, WHO DOES JORGE THINK HE IS. In a way, this is like showing how Penelope would like to react to her suitors beating up her son (it just popped into my head but kind of like a batman meme, Penelope dressing up as the goddess of wisdom to fuck up her son's bullies). Athena's whole solo there sounds a lot like Sherlock when he was talking to Irene. And when the fight ends and Antinous says Penelope needs to pick a suitor, Athena/Sherlock is very disturbed before he helps Bill up.

We'll be Fine - The thing I love the absolute most about this musical is exploring Sherlock's side of this whole fiasco they were in and giving him a chance to vent some of this frustrations. Because it wasn't easy on him either and he might blame himself a little bit for not being able to help more. Bill knows a little bit about it from gossip and rumour and being a part of the Epic cast for a little while, not too much but between the two of them, Bill understands that Sherlock is letting out a bit of his frustration with the previous problem and the repeat that seems to be occurring, because he's super smart like that (I say seems because in real life, it won't last that long and William is probably gonna be ok and reconciled with Moran by the time we get there. It'll hopefully make sense once we get to the next saga but I just can't keep knocking this dude over he needs to start healing and giving him a less self-jeopardising problem to fight). Even though he and William have worked through a fair bit of what happened and their still going really strong, Sherlock is still worried. Sherlock's super soft on Bill because he's so similar to William. Bill, while sticking to the script, is just subtly reassuring him that it's ok, they'll get through this rough patch and they'll be fine. Sherlock doesn't need to be the first responder. A little bit of it probably comes out as Bill saying "William wouldn't want you to beat yourself up over this," especially when he mentions Athena's friend (William and Bill are also probably really close friends at this point, don't tell me William wouldn't take him under his wing immediately after they're introduced). When Athena calls him a good kid, Sherlock ruffles his hair and then Bill makes a move like someone's calling him and runs off, leaving him for the next part.

ALRIGHT I'M HAVING FUCKING ISSUES WITH TUMBLR RIGHT NOW SO STAY TUNED FOR PART TWO BECAUSE ANYTHING LONGER THAN THIS WONT FUCKING POST OR SAVE AS A DRAFT.

@aka-no-ken I'M COMING SWEETIE AND I'M BRINGING MY WORK WITH ME JUST BEAR WITH ME

[five-rivers]

Danger First

Chapter 3

@pocketramblr (also please let me know if you would like me to stop tagging you on these, I don't want to be annoying. :))

"WAIT!" shouted Nana abruptly, as Izuku was talking to his (weirdo) teacher. "I know who that is! Quick, get ready to turn everything off!"

"Turn what off?" asked En. "We live in a formless mental void. We don't even have electricity."

"The quirk! That's Eraserhead!"

"Oh, yeah," said Yoichi, while everyone else (sans Second and Third) scrambled to grab onto the quirk. "I remember Eight meeting him, now! So, he's a teacher, huh?"

"How do all of you forget the one person who might be capable of one-shotting All for One?" demanded Nana.

"Doesn't his quirk not work on mutations?"

"Stop daydreaming and get over here, Yoichi!"

The quirkspace began to glow faintly, ominously red, and the ghosts pulled hard on the quirk, holding it temporarily out of Izuku's reach.

Then, the red glow abated and they dropped it back into place.

"Well, that was exhausting," said Banjo. "So, we'll have to be constantly ready for that, huh?"

"As long as he's around, yeah," said Nana.

"Why did we just do that, anyway?" asked En.

"So we can continue to masquerade as a normal, non-haunted quirk?"

"We could have just let him think he didn't have a quirk, or that the anxiety-"

"Super anxiety."

"-isn't part of it."

Yoichi gasped, as if scandalized. "You'd want us to lie to Izuku?"

"Okay, seriously, what is up with you and Nine?" asked En.

Despite not having a body, Yoichi began to visibly sweat. "Nothing, nothing at all. I just... think he's neat?"

"If you're going to lie to us, can you not do it with archaeomemes?" asked Nana.

"No, no, actually, I can get behind this," said En. "Would you say Izuku has... vibes?"

Yoichi nodded solemnly.

.

"Young Midoriya!"

Izuku shrieked and jumped back from the sudden sound as All Might suddenly emerged from an otherwise innocuous bush.

Both of them froze, staring at each other.

"Are you..." said All Might, hesitantly, sounding much more like he did in his small form than usual, "alright?"

"I... think so?"

"That's good, then." All Might coughed slightly into his fist. "I was wondering if you had a few minutes."

"Of- of course!" said Izuku, immediately.

"Then allow me to lead the way!"

All Might led him through a door labeled 'staff only' and immediately deflated. "All the staff know about my condition," explained Mr. Yagi.

Izuku nodded. Then a thought occurred to him. "Mr. Yagi?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"Why, um, why don't you teach, um, as Mr. Yagi? Instead of as All Might? Wouldn't it save your time?"

Mr. Yagi stopped and scratched his head. "I hadn't really thought about it before," he admitted. "But part of the reason I took this job, other than wanting to help train the next generation of heroes, of course, is that I want to get people used to the idea that I am going to retire." He tugged on one of his bangs. "Also, ah, I'm not sure if my qualifications to teach are quite up to par without my reputation."

"I'm sure it would be fine! You're the best, after all!"

Mr. Yagi chuckled. "I'm glad you think so," he said. Then he reached behind him and opened a door. "In any case: my office."

"Wow," said Izuku, quietly, stepping in. "All Might's office..." Who knew when he'd get another opportunity like this again? He kept his eyes wide to drink in the details.

The rather sparse details. The office was rather bare. Which made sense, seeing as All Might was a brand-new teacher. It was sort of... disappointing, as thrilling as it was.

Mr. Yagi sat down behind the desk and gestured for Izuku to take one of the other chairs. It had a lot of cushioning. A lot a lot. Izuku sank down into the fluff as Mr. Yagi fiddled with a drawer on his desk. He got the drawer open, and pulled out a notebook. A notebook of the same brand Izuku liked to use, actually.

"Since your experiences with One for All are so different from mine, I thought it might be a good idea to do some research into past holders and take a leaf out of your notebook, as it were." He passed the notebook over to Izuku, who took it with shaking hands and a slightly open mouth.

"I'll treasure it," he declared, voice wobbling.

"Not so much that you don't use it, I hope," said Mr. Yagi. "As it is, it's only an overview. The earlier holders, especially, don't have many records associated with them. Consider it a starting point. I haven't had much time to work on it."

"I can't believe you found the time to write this at all," said Izuku, flipping through the pages. The information was sparse, but each holder had a basic profile, all the way back to the fourth. "I mean, between being a hero, training me, and preparing to be a teacher, I'm stunned nothing fell by the wayside!"

Mr. Yagi proceeded to turn a very interesting color.

"Uh, nothing fell by the wayside, right?"

"Why don't you take a few minutes to skim through. If anything jumps out at you right away, we can talk about it. And then I'll let you go get changed and go home, and we can discuss more later, after you've had more time with it."

"Okay!" said Izuku. He'd start with just the basic profiles. Name, date of birth, date of death, quirk... wait, those ages... "They all died young," he said, softly.

"Hero work is dangerous," said Mr. Yagi, hand going to his side.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"Not something you need to worry about. I took care of it, years ago." The hand holding his side spasmed slightly.

"... Six years ago?" asked Izuku, aware he was pushing his luck. But this sounded both important and relevant.

There was a long pause. "Yes," said All Might, finally. "A villain with a longevity quirk. He... had a history with the first user."

Izuku got the feeling that was an understatement. It also seemed unlikely that the only application of the villain's quirk was longevity, given what he'd done to All Might. But the subject was clearly making All Might uncomfortable, so he dropped it in favor of burying his nose in the notebook again.

(Social fumbles aside, this was the most secure Izuku had felt for... a while.)

"The sixth user had a smoke quirk?"

"Yes, it seems so. Although it doesn't seem to have been actual smoke, but a biological compound."

"I wonder if that has anything to do with all the steam you release when you deflate. Actually..." he flipped back through the quirk. "I wonder if you're using Float, too, subconsciously, when you jump."

"What?"

"I- I mean," said Izuku, "I noticed, when, um, when I grabbed your ankle and also in videos of you- Your hang time is kind of messed up? You're in the air for longer than you should be, but it isn't, like, consistent? Plus, you can change direction mid-air, which I thought was because you were shooting out blasts of air pressure with your quirk, but with me on your ankle, you definitely didn't do that. There was- there was a forum I was on where some people thought your quirk tapped into magnetic fields, somehow, but that doesn't make any sense, because you'd expect a lot more electronic interference and that similar locations would produce similar results, given the Earth's magnetic field, but they don't. But subconscious, low-level use of a telekinesis-based flying quirk would explain everything. If we take into account what you said about my anxiety after the entrance exam, then that's minor expressions of three out of four of the quirks listed here, not counting the base stockpile and enhancement quirk. Do you think the unknown quirks of the second and third users might have partially manifested for you as well? Have you experienced anything else that's atypical for a strength enhancement quirk?"

Mr. Yagi stared at Izuku.

Oh, no, he'd gone too far.

"Nothing immediately comes to mind, my boy," he said, faintly. "But... magnets? Really?"

"I told you it didn't make any sense."

Mr. Yagi rubbed his chin. "There might be something, but... it's too unclear to say either way. I'll keep an eye out. It's just... a lot to take in. I thought One for All was done surprising me."

"When has it surprised you before?"

"Oh, under the influence of certain mental quirks, you can wind up hallucinating the previous users."

"Hallucinating?"

"Yes. But being under the influence of a mental quirk is always the larger issue, so..."

"Mr. Yagi," said Izuku. "That's really the kind of thing you should let people know about up front."

"I- is it?"

.

The ghosts all stared at Nana.

"Hey, don't blame this on me! None of us explained that kind of stuff before passing One for All on."

"In our defense," said En, half raising a hand, "we were usually dying when we passed it on."

"More importantly," said Hikage, "do you think Ninth is right about the quirks?"

"It would make sense," mused Yoichi. "Although then we'd have to wonder why Blackwhip didn't manifest similarly."

"Is it too much for me to get someone to use my quirk? My extremely awesome quirk, that has no downsides?"

"It is powered almost exclusively by rage."

"No downsides."

"You-"

"No. Downsides."

.

Aizawa passed him an envelope labeled 'quirk counseling' along with the standard schedule and orientation packet he was handing to everyone else. It didn't look like any of his class mates had noticed, though, for which Izuku was grateful. He didn't want to be known as a weirdo who didn't know what his own quirk was.

He heavily suspected he was tapping into Danger Sense, somehow, but he didn't know how, and the fourth user of One for All had lived so long ago there weren't any records of him. Not easily and publicly available. Everything Mr. Yagi had written in his notebook (that Izuku had probably stayed up way too late reading... and texting Mr. Yagi about it... and comparing it to his notes... and texting Mr. Yagi about that... and reviewing old All Might compilations and theory threads... and having Mr. Yagi threaten to call his mom if he didn't go to sleep...) about the fourth user had been retrieved from the journals Mr. Yagi's mentor had passed down, according to one of the source notes in the margin.

(Mr. Yagi had really neat, small handwriting, which Izuku wouldn't have ever expected from his large, dramatic signatures as All Might, and his notes were meticulous and carefully cited. If Izuku didn't know better, he would have thought it belonged to a secretary.)

But despite Izuku's suspicions, he didn't actually know. He didn't know it's range, what it defined as danger, whether or not it 'ranked' dangers, how to distinguish it from normal anxiety, or- Well. Anything, really. And he would really like to.

He opened the envelope quietly. Inside was a handwritten note instructing him to pick one of three schedules for quirk counseling and return it to Aizawa by the end of the day. The other pages were printed, with times and possible locations. Options for both before and after the school day.

Izuku felt his eyes tearing up. This was easily the nicest thing a teacher had ever done for him... Although he was nervous about being alone with Aizawa. Some of his other teachers, when they asked him to stay after class it was... not good.

Nothing bad happened, not like in movies or TV shows or the awareness videos the school had shown sometimes. The teachers didn't hurt him, really, didn't do anything to him, other than talk or yell, mostly, but it still wasn't good.

Maybe he could ask Mr. Yagi or Recovery Girl to sit in... But he already felt bad, taking up so much of their time.

He picked one of the after school schedules. He was already staying late on the other days to work with Mr. Yagi, and if something did go wrong, he wanted to have the night to recover before he had to face Aizawa again in class.

He put it to the side, so he'd remember to give it to Aizawa before he left, then looked over the class schedule. Homeroom, Math, Hero Art History, History, and English in the morning. At least this morning. The history classes alternated with something called Heroics-Applied Science and Hero Law and Ethics. Afternoons, meanwhile, were entirely occupied by Hero Basic Training.

And every class would be taught by a pro hero. He wondered if it would be rude to ask for their autographs...

.

Shouta grunted as Hizashi flopped down onto the couch next to him on the couch in the staff breakroom. "What a morning! I just love seeing all those bright little faces at the beginning of the year. Anyone have a favorite first year yet?"

Shouta kicked Hizashi through his sleeping bag. Sadly, this had no effect on the man.

"I think mine might be the little green guy. He's the only one who was actually paying attention, and you know how rare that is, when everyone is anticipating their first heroics lesson. The rest of us just pale in comparison."

Shouta attempted to kick Hizashi again, this time for an entirely different reason. Midoriya was already All Might's favorite (probably)- he did not need more pull with the staff.

"I know who my least favorite is," said Kan. "Kid's certainly dedicated and competitive, but I wouldn't be surprised if he threatened his middle school teachers into giving him those glowing reviews. His personality needs a lot of work. How did you get Nezu to saddle me with Bakugo, anyway, Eraser?"

"I had nothing to do with it."

"Don't give me that, I was going to have Monoma. At least he's a team player."

"You're being illogical," said Shouta, zipping his sleeping bag closed over his face.

"How about you, Nemuri?" asked Hizashi, cutting off Vlad King vs Eraserhead round five hundred.

"It's hard to choose! They're all so cute and eager! Full of the passion of youth! I think they're all my favorite."

"You always say that..."

The door opened and closed.

"All Might! What about you? Any favorites yet?"

Yagi coughed. "I've only had the one class of third years so far. Don't you think that's rather... premature?"

What an incredible nonanswer.

"How did that first class of yours go, anyway? They didn't sour you to the whole idea of teaching, did they?"

"Not at all! The students were wonderful. The third years are very advanced, aren't they? For some of them, I wouldn't be shocked to see that skill level on an active sidekick."

"What can I say? We start them off right," crowed Hizashi.

"They did seem a little surprised by the scenario, however."

"So was I, t'be honest," said Snipe, who was in charge of the third years.

"Ah, was it no good...?"

"It was fine. Lesson plan was a bit rough around the edges, but you and Nezu'll be goin' over that later. But... quirk traffickin' doesn't quite seem like your thing."

"Ah, well, set-pieces," he said, using the slightly derisive underground slang for large-scale spotlight hero battles, "may be what I'm known for, but before my injury, the majority of my battles and investigations weren't publicized."

"Shield laws?" asked Nemuri.

"Generally, yes, but some of the investigations were tied to others, so we were using the organized crime secrecy laws to keep those under wraps. Simply put, my popularity isn't the only reason I keep the number one spot despite Endeavor having more completed cases than me on paper."

Shouta had known there was more to All Might than 'punchy, over-the-top, eyestrain-causing, bombastic muscle guy,' but part of his stupid, illogical brain was annoyed at Yagi for pummeling that image into imaginary dust, anyway. It seemed like the man's only two flaws were horrible interpersonal skills when not using his public persona, and his vast suite of health issues, the latter of which all heroes who operated long enough picked up.

Oh, and a possible inclination towards bribery.

Made it hard to dislike him, which Shouta wanted to do, because he was loud, flashy, and gave him headaches, literal and metaphorical. He ignored the fact that Hizashi was the same way, and had forcibly become Shouta's best friend. Clearly, there was no connection here.

"By the way, why is young Aizawa completely zipped in like that?"

"Nap time," said Hizashi, solemnly.

.

"Sir?" said Iida, raising his hand.

"Yes, young man?" boomed All Might.

"There are nineteen of us. How are we handling the odd person out?"

"Excellent question! In other exercises, we may handle it differently, but for today, one of you will be working alone! Occasionally, a hero may find themselves isolated when they originally expected help. However, for better balance, I have also arranged it so the odd hero out will be taking part in the last battle, so you'll have more time to strategize!"

But the other team would also have more time to strategize, Izuku noted. He really hoped it wouldn't be him... not that he wanted to force it on any if his classmates! He just didn't want yet another handicap on the first day of training.

All Might walked around with the box of ballots, pausing for each student to take one. He reached Izuku and held the box out to him with a wink. Izuku smiled back, reached in, and grabbed one.

A chill ran up his back and he froze, fingers wrapped tightly around the little ball. Something told him this was definitely the cursed, single-person ballot. Could he let it go? Would it be considered cheating if he picked a new one?

But All Might was already walking away. Every part of his body tense, Izuku turned his hand over and forced his fingers apart.

J.

The tenth character of the Latin alphabet. For the tenth, last, team.

He watched as everyone else started to pair up, and All Might looked at him apologetically.

Izuku approximated a smile. Plus ultra, right?

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 5 - ao3 -

The Nightless City was like nothing Lan Qiren had ever seen before in his life.

It was grand and glorious, everything writ large on a massive scale – the number of people, the number of buildings, the size of the buildings…it was said that Lanling City was more crowded and full of people, but that was because it had a smaller scope, shoving all those people into a small area, while the Nightless City never ran out of space because any time it did it would just expand its borders further.

For someone like Lan Qiren, who longed to travel to the strange parts of the world and see all sorts of things for the first time, it was a dream come true –

Or rather, it would be, if only he had the ability to give it the attention it deserved. Which he didn’t.

The issue had initially arisen in the week leading up to their departure from the Cloud Recesses. Like all the other disciples, especially those nominated for their musical talents, Lan Qiren had spent a great deal of time in the library pavilion, perusing score after score in search of the one that they would present as their own individual selection.

He’d found one he rather liked: an exceedingly complicated piece, composed for the guqin, meant to signify the orderly chaos of nature and winning mastery over the internal chaos within. It had been a challenge to master the complex finger work, not to mention the necessary qi fluctuations required to properly showcase the song even if he had no plans to wield it as a spell – no one actually needed roots to leap up from the earth to try to trap his enemies in the middle of a musical demonstration – but he’d accomplished it, meeting even his own stringent standards for excellence. He’d been very proud, and eager to display it at the discussion conference.

His brother, in conjunction with the teacher that would be accompanying them, had rejected it.

They hadn’t even let him demonstrate that he’d adequately mastered it – their teacher, the swordfighting master that his brother liked so much, had taken a cursory look at the score and deemed it too eccentric; his brother had judged it too flashy, and thus too risky. They had recommended he perform one of the more traditional Lan sect songs that they knew he had mastered perfectly: Inquiry, perhaps, or Evocation.

Lan Qiren had decided to ignore them.

He hadn’t told them that, of course. He’d kept his decision hugged close to his chest, buried beneath a façade of calm that was easy enough to keep in place since most people couldn’t tell his stressed expression from his regular one, and his tone never really got that far from a monotone anyway.

He’d kept that secret, turning it over and over in his head, unable to think of anything else, unable to enjoy the distant travel (well, unable to enjoy it as much as he should), unable to really appreciate the grandiose opening ceremonies, the sect leaders of the Great Sects seated together on their platform, the smaller sects beneath them…

Luckily, the music competition was scheduled for the very first day of the conference, right after the opening ceremony. First there was the technical challenge, in which they all played together – that made it especially difficult, because a single wrong note by your neighbor could knock off your own playing if you weren’t focused, while the judges were all cultivators powerful enough to sharpen their hearing and pick out any discordant sounds even out of the large crowd of them all going at it together – and then the individual performances.

Lan Qiren had the honor of going fourth.

He went out there, saluted the judges, saluted the audience of sect leaders, sat down on the platform and played the song he wanted to play. If perhaps he had his heart in his throat because of a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, if perhaps his gut churned, feeling unusually full of spite and rebelliousness – he put it all aside in favor of the music.

Nothing mattered when he played but the music. Nothing.

When it was done, he stood and saluted again – the judges, then the audience – and retreated back to the area where the Lan sect was standing. As he’d expected, his teacher was waiting for him, hands behind his back and apparently calm on the surface; a small jerk of his head, and Lan Qiren knew to obediently follow him.

They couldn’t leave, of course, since that would be rude, but they went a little ways off to the side to a more secluded corner of the field where they could be safely ignored - everyone’s attention was on the performances.

“Do not tell lies,” the teacher said, a censure, and Lan Qiren dropped into a deep salute.

“I did not lie, honored teacher,” he said, eyes fixed firmly on the ground. “According to the guidelines set out when the event was announced, each disciple has the right to select his own music for the independent portion of the competition, provided that they can perform their selected composition to an adequate degree of mastery. Although you and my brother recommended that I select Inquiry as my performance piece instead, I did not accept your recommendation, and have never said that I would.”

His teacher’s frown deepened. “I would have expected better of you,” he said, and Lan Qiren’s shoulders curled inwards a little, the words cutting as deeply as any knife. “Quibbling over such a technicality with your elders – do not forget, arrogance is forbidden.”

Lan Qiren held the salute in place. “I understand, honored teacher.”

“Have you anything more to say to yourself?”

Lan Qiren thought about simply accepting the punishment that his teacher’s tone warned was inevitable, but – he really, truly did not believe he deserved it. And so, even though it might only make it worse, he opened his mouth and stumbled clumsily through the argument he had written out in advance, citing the rules and prior interpretations of the rules that he believed supported his actions. He was very confident of his grasp on the rules, but less sure of his persuasive powers and altogether despairing of any oratory skill, and yet...he had to try.

His teacher listened in stony silence. When Lan Qiren was done, he said, “I had never supposed you to be born with a lawyer’s tongue,” which was an insult – the Lan sect, like most cultivation sects, were gentry and thus had no need to seek employment in the magistrates’ courts. “Do you intend to continue on this rebellious path?”

“No, honored teacher,” Lan Qiren said emphatically. “In all other respects, I will listen to your orders, and my brother’s, as if they were carved on the Wall of Discipline.”

His teacher huffed disbelievingly, but he flicked his sleeves and went back to the crowd of Lan sect disciples currently spectating the next player in sequence without imposing any immediate punishment. That was an implicit concession to Lan Qiren’s argument: if he had failed to be convincing, a punishment would have been imposed at once.

Lan Qiren straightened himself out of his salute – his teacher had not granted him permission to rise throughout his recitation, and he hadn’t wanted to make his rebelliousness worse by presuming – and allowed himself a brilliant smile.

His teacher’s departure did not mean that he would escape all censure; his brother, sitting up at the sect leader’s pavilion, would undoubtedly have his own views on the subject, and of course simply disrespecting age and authority in public was reason enough for discipline. But Lan Qiren had done it. He had maintained his own position despite adversity and remained true to himself; he had not yielded, even if only in such a small matter, and he had persevered. Truly, it was as the rules said: have a strong will and anything can be achieved.

He looked around to check to make sure that no one had noticed their little interchange, mindful of his promise and his brother’s instruction that he not lose face, but it didn’t seem to be that way. Even on the sect leader’s pavilion, the sect leaders were all watching the performance – Wen Ruohan even had his head tilted to the side as if sharpening his hearing so as to listen more intently, which Lan Qiren supposed was further evidence that he wasn’t as disinterested in musical matters as others had speculated, and also that whoever was playing (he wasn’t paying attention) must be quite good.

It didn’t matter. Lan Qiren hadn’t played his selection because he’d been obsessively determined to win; he had only wanted to display some part of himself sincerely, and he had done so. Whatever else happened, that was sufficient.

He took a moment to find his calm once again, allowing his face to return to an expression of neutrality – gloating was unseemly, and forbidden by the rules, if other lose to you, don’t look down on them, even if the victory here was minor – and then at last returned to his place among the other Lan sect disciples.

He watched the remaining performances calmly, and without incident.

After the competition was done, the judges began to debate their rankings. Musical competitions were generally not favored at discussion conferences because of the need for careful consideration before victory or defeat could be determined – unlike in a contest of martial strength, when the contestants were near to each other in strength there was no immediate understanding of who had won – but Wen Ruohan had apparently planned ahead for that.

He announced that the contestants and audience would be dismissed while the judges’ deliberations were ongoing – in order to allow them to begin enjoying the wonders of the Nightless City, he explained with a supercilious smirk – and that the results of the competition would be announced shortly before the banquet planned for dinner.

Lan Qiren was not surprised when the sect leaders largely stayed behind, at least initially, to continue conversations; he was only relieved that he had a small reprieve before his brother came to scold him. Similarly, he was unsurprised when his fellow disciples immediately split into groups to go out to explore the Nightless City, and when those groups did not include him – even the ones that he would have otherwise expected to invite him, the ones he was more friendly with, cast fearful glances at their stone-faced teacher and apologetic ones at him; no one wanted to be associated with a troublemaker lest they be dragged into the mire alongside them.

It was fine.

Lan Qiren nodded at them, indicating that he understood, to their evident relief, and turned to look at his teacher in silent question. It was not unthinkable that he could go out alone…

“Perhaps you should stay behind,” his teacher said icily. “You can use the time for contemplation.”

Lan Qiren had promised himself: one rebellion, and nothing more. He raised his hands into a salute.

“As you say, honored teacher.”

Instead of following the others out, as he might have otherwise wanted to do, he turned his feet instead to one of the internal gardens in the Nightless City, brightly lit and shining, with a bench for him to sit and observe the designs, seeking calmness and clarity.

Maybe he could meditate a little. At least that would help pass the time -

“Congratulations on your victory.”

Lan Qiren raised his head, surprised out of the trance he’d settled info.

He had not expected anyone to find him in the garden where he was lurking, least of all Lao Nie.

“What victory?” he asked, and the older man grinned at him.

“Your imminent one, of course,” he said, gesturing for Lan Qiren to move over on the bench and settling down next to him once he complied. “That was a fantastic performance you gave earlier, and it wasn’t like we weren’t all expecting the Lan sect to win the music competition anyway.”

“Expecting the Lan sect to win doesn’t mean that I would be the one to win,” Lan Qiren mumbled, feeling his cheeks and ears go hot. “Arrogance –”

“Forbidden? Big surprise,” Lao Nie teased, and Lan Qiren ducked his head.

Technically, as a junior, he shouldn’t be acting overly familiar with sect leaders from other sects, but Lao Nie – no one ever called him Sect Leader Nie, and it wasn’t disrespect but fondness that drove them – was an exception to most rules. His Nie sect was longstanding allies of the Lan sect, and he himself was effortlessly charismatic, charming and gregarious. Even Lan Qiren’s brother admired him.

Lan Qiren also admired him.

It had been Lao Nie’s occasional intervention that had convinced his brother to take Lan Qiren along on some night-hunts when he’d been younger, and while they weren’t especially close by any means – Lan Qiren suspected he was currently simply too young to interest Lao Nie as an equal, as opposed to a junior in need of mentoring, and he longed to get old enough that that to no longer be an issue – Lao Nie was one of the few people Lan Qiren knew that had never minded indulging his eccentricities.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Lao Nie remarked. “With all your talk of travel, I would’ve thought you’d be out exploring the city.”

Lan Qiren’s mood, which had been starting to improve, plummeted.

“Hmm. Sore spot?”

Lan Qiren’s shoulders were up by his shoulders. “I shouldn’t complain.”

“That just means you want to,” Lao Nie said wisely, and nudged him a little with his shoulder. “Did you get ordered to stay behind? You? You never break the rules.”

“I didn’t break the rules! My teacher made a strong recommendation that I reconsider my selection for the independent performance portion of the competition…”

“And you didn’t take the suggestion?” Lao Nie was smiling. “What a show of rebellion.”

Lan Qiren flushed red again. He was being teased, he knew.

“Since you’ve already had one rebellion, why not another?”

Lan Qiren frowned, not understanding.

“Go out,” Lao Nie clarified, still smiling. “There’s still at least half a shichen before dinner; you could see some of the city, apologize later – no? Why not?”

Lan Qiren was shaking his head. “I promised I would listen to my brother,” he said simply. “He instructed me to listen to the teacher, and the teacher said to stay, so I’ll stay. Perhaps tomorrow he will yield and allow me to explore by myself.”

“By yourself?”

“It would trouble the other disciples to be associated with me until there’s been an appropriate opportunity to review my behavior and determine if punishment is required –”

Lao Nie shook his head. Presumably things were different in his Nie sect, as they often were.

“Well, if you really need some company to go out, let me know,” he said.

“I couldn’t presume –”

“I’m offering,” Lao Nie said firmly, and this was why he was Lan Qiren’s favorite sect leader other than his father. Sometimes, secretly, even more than his father. “Really, I don’t understand your sect sometimes. What’s the point of keeping you so restricted? You’re already an adolescent, you’re old enough to join your own night-hunts…you can go night-hunting, right?”

“I can,” Lan Qiren confirmed, because he really was old enough to have gone on his own - old enough to night-hunt and swear oaths, that first formal stage of adulthood - but then conceded, “With company, and permission from the sect. Otherwise, disciples are only permitted to leave the Cloud Recesses to visit family.”

“…your family is the Cloud Recesses, Qiren.”

Lan Qiren shrugged.

“Don’t you feel stifled by it?”

Most of the time, he didn’t. Lan Qiren truly loved his home: he loved the routine of it, the rules; the peacefulness, the predictability, and all the familiar people; he loved the comfort of knowing where everything was and why. There was no place in the world he would rather call home, not even if he had the rest of it placed at his feet.

Still, sometimes…

He shifted a little in his seat, and decided to be a little daring. It was only Lao Nie, after all. “Well, knowing I’ll be able to leave one day helps.”

Lao Nie laughed and reached out to pat Lan Qiren’s head. His hand was large and warm.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t consider a little adventure, earlier on…?” he asked, trailing off.

“No, Sect Leader,” Lan Qiren said, and he wasn’t even that regretful. “I promised my brother. It’s important to him, you know, that I not lose face for him and the sect, and that means it’s important to me. So I won’t. I wouldn’t do that to him.”

Someone cleared their throat.

Lan Qiren looked at the doorway even as Lao Nie pulled back his hand: it was Wen Ruohan, standing there with his hands behind his back, a false smile on his lips and his eyes glittering with some strange and inexplicable emotion. “Several of the other sect leaders are demanding that you come and settle a dispute,” he said to Lao Nie. “Assuming you’re not too busy.”

Lao Nie chuckled. “For my fellow sect leaders? Never. I’ll be along momentarily.”

Wen Ruohan nodded, surveying them both briefly – Lan Qiren felt strangely vulnerable beneath his gaze, and he didn’t know why – before turning away in a swirl of robes.

“He seemed angry,” Lan Qiren observed, wondering why, but Lao Nie was already shaking his head.

“Oh, Hanhan’s more bark than bite,” he said confidently, and Lan Qiren nearly choked. Hanhan? Who would call Wen Ruohan by a diminutive? And anyway, since when did Lao Nie do that – had their relationship changed since the Lan sect conference or something? “Don’t worry, I’ll talk to him. Enjoy your upcoming triumph, Qiren!”

Lan Qiren didn’t bother to remind him once again that he was not sure to win, watching him go after Wen Ruohan with long, loping strides that Lan Qiren could only envy, his own frame gawky and still uncoordinated.

He sighed.

“ – such a fuss!” He could still hear Lao Nie in the distance, the older man’s voice carrying a little too far as always. “Really, Hanhan, haven’t you done enough already, with all those rumors that are always going around since last time…?”

A brief pause, murmurs in lower voices.

“ – more honored in the breach. Even in the Lan sect!”

And then there was laughter.

Lan Qiren wondered what Lao Nie meant by that. Was he talking about Lan Qiren? To Wen Ruohan?

Surely not.

[diavolosthots]

DARK DECEPTION CHAPTER 19

READ CHAPTER 18 HERE

Warnings: flashbacks to the previous chapter, mentions of injury and death

Pairing(s): Lucifer x reader, michael, the brothers, Barbatos

Loud… everything was so loud. There was shuffling and the clinging of metal. There were too many people, too many voices both which he recognized and which he didn’t. His eyes couldn’t open and everything hurt, he wasn't going to lie, but his pride also didn’t allow him to actually groan out in pain, or, at least not very loudly. People were touching him, he could feel them. They worked on his wings and for a moment, he was so out of it, he about attacked someone for touching him in the first place, but then he remembered. He remembered nearly everything. The pain, the breaking of Diavolo’s wings right beneath him and then the head in his hands. He remembered the pure rage that filled him, and he remembered Satan. He’s still not sure how the fourth born did this, binding them back together. Lucifer hadn’t felt that kind of anger, that kind of power, since the celestial war, and he never thought he would feel it again, either. “Satan….” His eyes slowly opened as worry settled into his mind, and he had to blink a few times in order to focus on the picture in front of him. 

A soft hand, a gentle touch, cupped his cheek and Lucifer leaned into it. It felt familiar and comforting; it felt like you. He turned his head a bit, groaning when the pain rushed through him and right now, he wasn’t trying to hide it. “(Y/N)....” his mouth felt dry, his throat and voice hoarse. It felt as if there were sand stuck in his throat and talking hurt more than anything, well, almost. Tears were streaming down your face and he could tell that you had been crying for longer than you would ever willingly admit to him. One of his hands was held firmly by yours, the other one still cupping his cheek. “Lucifer…” it was a sob, a noise of relief, and if he wasn’t so bandaged up right now, you could throw yourself at him. “I was so worried….” You were. After Lucifer left, you begged Michael to let you run after him, or at least that he ran after him, but the angel locked you in that room. You had no idea what was going on and paced the space until your feet hurt. It felt like eternity to you until Michael finally returned and decided to bring you down, “it’s not pretty…” and it wasn’t.

You remember seeing the bodies. You didn’t know what happened, at all. Some demons were still fighting with each other, others were on the ground. You found Beelzebub first, who was all scratched up and beaten, but still standing which you deemed as good. Belphegor was with him too so at least you knew those two were fine. “Where is he?” But neither of them had an answer. You found Asmo with Mammon and Levi and you almost screamed when you saw the very open, very gaping, very bloody wound in Levi’s abdomen, barely held together by Mammon and Asmo. Mammon’s leg was broken, very clearly so, but nothing he wouldn’t survive. And for some reason Asmo, although exhausted, still looked good. Levi worried you though and you doubted he was even conscious anymore, “get…. Get him to the house… clean the wound…. Asmo, please…” but you didn’t know if they ever made it, not at that point at least. And then Satan… his golden hair stood out and you ran over there as quickly as you can. He was face down and right beside him was Lucifer, holding onto his hand. Neither of them reacted to you and you freaked out, screaming for Michael who you hoped was still there. 

And that’s how you ended up here. Michael had carried Lucifer to the house, ordering some angels down to help the rest of the brothers. For a very long time, Michael worked on Lucifer’s wings, barely speaking to you or anyone for that matter, and if he said anything at all, it was mumbled, almost as if he was embarrassed, or ashamed. Beelzebub stayed the whole time and Belphegor and Asmodeus made their own little nests in Lucifer’s room, watching over the eldest as the five of you hoped for the best. “I was so worried…. You didn’t wake up….” Lucifer could hear your pain and it pained him more than any physical pain he felt at the moment. “I… I made a promise…. I didn’t intend on breaking it…” he forced a soft grin, although it truly did nothing but hurt him; it was worth it. You laughed softly, letting yourself fall onto him as you hugged him tightly. Pain shot through him and he groaned loudly, carefully lifting his hands to place them on your back and he wished he could hold you tighter. 

“I’m sorry… Darling…” you shook your head, quickly pulling back to look at him. “No I am… I’m sorry for not fighting… I’m sorry for going with him…” A hand was placed on your shoulder and you quickly turned your head, seeing Michael look down at you, “it’s not your fault little one.” the angel looked at you for another moment before looking at Lucifer, “you have a lot to clean up, Lucifer, but my task here is done. You should heal just fine, as should everyone else. Don’t forget your promise to me…. But I will take my leave now.” You looked confused at Lucifer and then back at Michael, “promise?” but the angel only smiled, stroking gently through your hair, “don’t worry, child. It’s nothing bad. Take care of him, hm?” And then, in the blink of an eye, Michael was gone. Lucifer smiled softly, still, although the confusion was written everywhere on your face, “don’t worry….” “What did you promise him?!” You were freaking out. A promise? Made by Lucifer? To Michael? This can’t be good. Lucifer’s hand reached out slowly to grasp yours again as he swallowed thickly, “I promised… to mend our relationship… to try again…” and he hated making that promise, but for you he would do anything, including putting his pride aside and forgiving Michael. 

The words rung in your ears and you know you understood them, but you couldn’t believe them. Fresh tears spilled over as you nodded at him, looking at Beel and Belphegor on the other end of the room, and then at Asmo who took it upon himself to give you some tissues, “thank you….” Lucifer nodded, closing his eyes again, “my brothers… they’re okay…?” Asmo laughed softly behind you and nodded eagerly, “yeah… Michael brought some of his cute friends with him… they stitched everyone up.” Belphegor walked up on the other side of the bed and held up his bandaged arm, “they were pretty nice…. Levi is making it, too, and Satan just needed some rest. He slept almost as long as you.” Lucifer turned his head toward Belphegor, raising an eyebrow, “how long was I sleeping, as you put it?” “About a week.” It was Beelzebub who spoke. Lucifer’s eyes went wide and he almost immediately went to sit up, groaning loudly when his wings hurt him and he felt the pressure of your hand pushing him back down, “oh no…. You’re not going anywhere! Your wings are taking forever to heal. You had a few broken ribs too and it’ll take a while, even with Michael’s help.” 

God, he hated this. He feels useless right now. “The house is still standing…. Seems like you three didn’t do too bad.” Belphegor rolled his eyes, walking over to the door, “there he is. Lucifer is back everyone, we can leave now.” It made you laugh, genuinely, and it’s nice to see that nothing can truly ever keep Lucifer away. When Belphegor opens the door, though, he gets interrupted by Satan pushing Mammon, who’s sitting in a wheelchair, in through the door, and Levi kind of wobbling after them, “Lucifer! I knew you would make it!” You smiled at the rest of them and then looked back at Lucifer, who seems like his usual self, “is this a family meeting now? I’m glad to see you all alive. “ Especially Levi. For a while, he didn’t think the third born would make it, but his eyes actually ended up falling on Satan, “what was that?” The blond smiled smugly at him before shrugging, “it was more of a theory than anything until I tried it… but I figured since I was made from your anger, maybe you needed that anger in order to win… I didn’t think it would work so well, though.” 

“Are ya kiddin’ me?! Ya knocked the whole Devildom out!” Mammon wasn’t even exaggerating. The wave that pushed through everyone was immense and none of them ever felt anything like that. “It was amazing!” You were confused, looking between Mammon, Satan, and then back at Lucifer, who only shook his head. “No worries…. It just helped us win…” He sighed softly, closing his eyes again and holding your hand tightly, “I still need rest but… do whatever you six want for a while.. Just make sure the house is still standing for when I can walk again.” “well… actually..” Levi started and the way his tone sounded, it didn’t make Lucifer too happy so he opened his eyes again and glared at the third born, “Leviathan I swear…” but the otaku shook his head, “there’s something you need to know….” not another war, please. Please don’t let it be another war. Leviathan stepped aside, letting Barbatos enter the room. The servant was smiling as always, his hands folded behind his back. 

“Glad to see you alive and well, My Lord.” 

[bookofmirth]

I really do believe that Elucien and Gwynriel will be endgame just from a logical perspective. We know there are two more books in the series (excluding novellas), and SJM has said that there will be a book from Elain’s perspective. The other book must be about Azriel because he’s the only “main character” left from the inner circle (excluding Mor and Amren, but I really think Amren’s story is done and as much as I would love it, I doubt SJM would write an entire wlw romance book for Mor). If the next book really is Elriel, that would mean the last book would be from Lucien or Gwyn’s perspective and tbh, I don’t think they can carry a whole book on their own with a new love interest. So that leaves Gwynriel and Elucien.

My only issue with this is - even though I am Elucien shipper - I don’t see how their romance could be written without retconning or some random event that pushes the two together. I feel like SJM kinda backed herself into a corner with the timeline, because it’s been 2 - 3 years since they’ve discovered they were mates and almost nothing has been done about it. We can see Elain growing a bit more comfortable around Lucien and I definitely don’t think she hates him by acosf, but their mating bond still hasn’t been acknowledged. She hasn’t rejected or accepted him - either romantically or platonically.

To remedy their relationship, maybe we would get to see more interactions between Lucien and Elain in their book prior to acosf (through flashbacks or if the book just starts at an earlier time). But even if this retconning is done, I think it would feel inconsistent with how the two are presented in acofas and acosf - especially with the Azriel bonus chapter. Because Elain still seems pretty indifferent to Lucien. The only other way I could think of the two coming together would be a random major event that forces them to interact and get to know each other better, sparking a romance. Because if Elain hasn’t taken any action towards Lucien in three years, I don’t see why she would - out of the blue - without some external reason.

Sorry this is long, I hope it makes sense! What are your thoughts? How do you think an Elucien romance would play out?

See, I don't think that there will need to be any retconning, or any going back in time (especially since sjm doesn't typically do that. She writes very linearly except for brief flashbacks like to when Aelin was a child. Or Rhys during the war, for some random ass reason, in acowar.)

I wouldn't say that Elain is indifferent towards Lucien. Otherwise, she would be able to converse with him as if he were anyone else. Instead, I think she is very, very conflicted.

The way that I see it, Lucien and Elain have had a lot of feelings - positive and negative - towards each other, brewing this whole time. They haven't talked about those feelings, or what to do with them. It's a perfect recipe for a blowup. There is a ton of tension between them, 2-3 years worth of things left unsaid and arguments and conversations they only had with each other in their heads.

The issue of even striking up a platonic conversation (if that's a thing?) is that they can't really do that. They talk, and the mating bond is there. They look at each other, and the mating bond is there. They sneeze, the mating bond is there. It's a lot of pressure, and that might prevent them from talking things out.

Imagine Elain and Lucien both knowing that once they finally talk to each other and get to know each other, it could change the rest of their lives. That's a huge pressure and no wonder they are avoiding it. (Well, he is. She has her own, more personal reasons for doing so.)

There could definitely be a plot thing that brings them together. Maybe it could be related to Autumn, or Spring? Elain seems ready to get out of Dodge. Maybe... something could happen with the fourth Dread Trove object, putting Elain in danger? Or, I know that a lot of people think that Elain will make a major mistake later on, in her attempts to become human or prove her autonomy. Perhaps someone could sit Elain down, Feyre probably, and ask what her intentions are?

There are lots of ways that they could end up together, either by forced proximity or because one (or both) of them can't take the tension and uncertainty anymore. I'm kinda glad that we don't know that yet.

However it happens, I think that when Elain and Lucien finally do talk, it's going to be angry and resentful. Why? Because they have those 2+ years of pent-up emotion and lack of communication and imaginary conversations. (This is my headcanon I guess, just because when I have something unresolved with someone I have conversations with that person in my head A LOT.) They will say all the things they've been wanting to say and will likely surprise each other. They probably have an idea of what the other person is like, and that perception will be challenged when they actually engage.

It's going to be great, tbh. Imagine the "well I feel this way," and the "did you even consider what I felt?" and the "Oh yes because it's all about you," and the "well I tried," "WHEN?" and then "do you think I wanted this?" "well I certainly didn't". "And when you thought about Jesminda..." "well you were thinking about Graysen" "I was in love" and then "well so was I". Finally they exhaust themselves and get everything out that they have been wanting to say. Then they collapse dramatically into their comfortable yet stylish armchairs.

And then maybe "so what now??" Then they take a break and take a sip of tea and feel so much relief that all of that is off their chests, and they realize that they have actually been experiencing a lot of the same emotions (fear, hope, resentment, curiosity, anxiety) and hadn't ever considered that the other was feeling the same way. And they realize that now they can move forward, and now they don't have anything to hide.

Also, feysand and nessian have made bargains pre-relationship, so I would be highly surprised if elucien doesn't make one as well. Maybe they already have. That could be a good way of tying them together, even if the bargain itself serves to drive them apart temporarily (as nessian's bargain did).

Wow this got long sorry!

[horanghaechan]

LOVER (M.G) - Chapter 2

pairing: Michael Gray x original female character chapter: 2 pov: written in 3rd person genre: ‘rivals to lovers’, romance, mature content/smut, fluffy? warnings: S3 spoilers, non canon stuff. main character is BRAZILIAN therefore, there are references to 1920's brazil. keep in mind that the world at that time wasn't like the world we live nowadays, so there are offensive behaviours along the story. read at your own risk. english is not my first language, so any mistakes please tell me <3 disclaimer: this is the english translation of my portuguese fic 'Lover', based on Taylor Swift songs and Peaky Blinders S1-S3. This is PURE fanfiction.

London, England, 1924

The Barbosa Veloso Alighieri de Resende family arrived in London for Tommy Shelby’s wedding. Maria Clara was excited because, after two years, she could finally show her parents and brothers that she had become a ‘businesswoman’… Of course, within 1920’s proportions. And just like Michael, Marie was also named a Blinder (something she’d have to hide from them at all costs). She didn’t venture into any of the gang’s services, but wherever she went, everyone knew she was under their protection.

“Marie, they can stay here instead of paying for a hotel.” Ada suggested for the fourth time. “It won’t be any hassle! The house is huge enough and it’s just Karl and I.”

“No, no.” Maria Clara refused. “I prefer my parents far away. The reason they came is more than enough! When Mama sets eyes on the boys, her personality will change.” She laughed, though worried. “Single men and matchmaking mothers can’t cross paths, especially when they’re still furious that you call off an engagement.”

“That was two years ago!”

“She didn’t get over it.” Marie laughed. “And since Robert remains single, it pains her even more.”

“What about you, dear? Have you gotten over it?”

“Of course, I did!” She nodded, finishing her tea. “I am much happier in Birmingham than I’d ever be here with Robert. I just need my mom to understand that I haven’t given up on marriage, it’s just that I don’t want to do it yet.” Marie looked out the window. “The Shelby Company needs me in complete freedom.”

“Well, that’s true.” Ada agreed.

Before they could continue their conversation, Ada’s doorbell rang. Maria Clara didn’t know who Ada was waiting for, but she had a wild guess. Tommy was in London to meet with Churchill, then he would meet with other people to resolve matters that did not belong exclusively to the Shelby Co..

Turns out the person who arrived wasn’t Tommy, it was Polly. The woman had just left the seamstress, as it was her last fitting before the wedding... And right next to her, there was Michael. He entered the room as if he owned the place and gave Maria Clara a smug smile before lighting a cigarette.

“Really, Michael?” She rolled her eyes.

Most people avoided smoking around Marie, but Michael… The abnormally handsome asshole… He made sure of it whenever they met.

He almost used her as an ashtray, even.

“Michael, watch your manners.” Polly warned. “Hi, Ada. Marie, dear.” She gave them a small smile. “Excited for the family reunion?”

It was clear that Polly looked distressed. Ever since meeting Marie, she’d felt something close to motherly affection, mostly because the pain of knowing Anna was dead was still there. Since Michael and her were the same age, and Tommy put them in the same department doing stuff together, Polly couldn’t help but imagine her as a second daughter. She was not Anna’s replacement, but a new one, so she’d have another chance to be a mother and to do everything she couldn’t with Anna.

Marie was also very fond of Polly, as well. Everyone said that she was not easily friendly, but the Brazilian had won all her affection in the blink of an eye.

The downside was dealing with Michael.

She didn’t know what had taken hold of him, but since Tommy started relating her to accounting and business meetings, Michael had changed. He became stupid, conceited, and unbearably controlling. It seemed that his greatest pleasure in life was to destroy any trace of good humour in her, to make her feel like an intruder or not worthy of the position.

“Not much, to be honest.” Maria Clara chuckled.

“One can imagine.” Polly nodded.

“She’s too busy with the Shelby Company to feel anything.” Michael’s deep and husky voice caught her attention.

“An outburst of compliments every time you talk to me, Michael!” Marie poured herself more tea, blinking quickly to feign naiveness.

“Merely returning the favour, Lady Marie.” He mocked her. “Why don’t you let me, a mere mortal, serve you? Do you want sugar? Warm milk? How many shortbread cookies?”

Polly giggled.

“You two bicker like little children.” She sat next to Marie. “And when do your parents arrive in England?”

“They’re already here. We’ll dine tonight with the Pearsons, much to Mama’s dismay.”

“Don’t blame her. I’d also be eager to see Michael married, but the more I ask him to do something, the more committed he is to do the opposite.”

Maria Clara kept her eyes fixed on her mug.

Comments like that shouldn’t make her heart swell in sheer panic, but they did. She wondered how she’d react when Michael finally got married... It was most likely going to be one of the worst days of her life. Of course, not that always seeing him with some random girl around Birmingham was any less painful, especially if she was Charlotte.

In fact, wouldn’t Tommy get him some penalization for disrupting Shelby’s work schedule? Why did Michael have to go to the office with her?!

Didn’t he own a goddamn house?!

Ada came back with whiskey and another set of tea. While serving the new guests, she asked about Polly’s dress and how the wedding preparations were going.

The entrance to the Pearson mansion remained the same. Maria Clara felt a thousand times freer walking through the arch than she’d felt almost three years ago. Escorted by her father, who beamed with delight after seeing her again, it finally downed her how much her life had changed since 1921.

The whole reception was a little torturous. Her mother kept making embarrassing remarks about the ‘unfortunate end of their children’s engagement’ and how the house would’ve appealed to Marie’s taste.

Oh, the matchmaking mothers...

“I’m so glad you managed to arrive early to spend some time in London.” Mrs. Pearson touched her mom’s hand, smiling. “Did Mr. Shelby allowed you to rest, Marie?”

“Yes, he seems to be a little more relaxed these days.” Marie nodded, reaching for a glass of champagne. “I think he isn’t really feeling the pre-wedding anxiety.”

“Men tend to feel the moment differently, yes.” Her mother commented. “Her brothers took a lot of time to assimilate what was happening.” She laughed softly.

“When I got married, I knew exactly when Simon noticed what he had done: it was at the altar, before speaking the vows.” Golda grinned, looking at Mr. Pearson.

Maria Clara regretted having started the subject, for she had given her mother an opportunity to make lots of ‘points’ about her single life. Focusing on her nails, she tried her best to endure it. Distracted, she didn’t notice the butler entering with two more guests.

Robert, who was talking to his former brothers-in-law, widened his eyes at the sight of the two familiar faces. He still didn’t know how to behave around those men who had seen his most humiliating days first-row. His father obviously didn’t consider him important enough to notify him that he’d added other people at the reception.

Mr. Pearson introduced the duo to João Antônio and Pedro Henrique, since Mr. Barbosa already knew them. Robert tried really hard to look unbothered, but he was sure his slight stutter and nervous laughter gave him away. Until then, their mother hadn’t met Tommy Shelby, but his charming blue eyes did a great job at bewitching her... Mrs. Pearson was now giggling and fanning her face exaggeratedly. Mrs. Barbosa maintained her haughty posture until Tommy kissed her hand, getting swept up by his nice manners.

Marie was able to hide her surprise when she saw them. However, her cheeks flared when, in an attempt to greet Michael, they went in the same direction and their faces stopped inches apart. She could’ve sworn someone in the room had gasped. Embarrassedly, she reached out and ignored the shiver as she felt Michael’s touch in a tight grip.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, Tommy?”

“Because I wasn’t sure.” He reached for a cigarette. “Mr. Pearson said your dad was already here, and they’d like to seize the opportunity and revise some contracts.”

“I see.” She nodded. “I hope Churchill’s meeting was promising.”

If Maria Clara hadn’t been so used to Tommy’s cold and distant posture, she’d never have noticed the barely-there grin he wore.

“I have a task for you and Michael, but we’ll talk about it later.” He exhaled.

There were eight dishes in total. By the end of the sixth, Marie was so full, but kept eating and drinking. She avoided looking two chairs in Robert’s left. She knew Michael was talking to Pedro, and as much as her mother and Mrs. Pearson babbled nonstop, she could still catch glimpses of the men’s conversation: apple farming (growing fruit trees, orchards and so on). Well, for a boy who’d lived part of his life in a rural village, she figured Michael understood something about it. And Pedro, following their father’s main hobby, was extremely interested in agriculture.

“Tereza sent a letter.” João Antônio commented only for her to hear. “Eduarda also wrote it, they sent some photos too. I hope you can answer before we return to Brazil.”

“Of course I will!” Marie smiled excitedly. “It’s such a pity they didn’t come.”

“I promised that we’ll be back here when Eduarda turns fifteen.”

“But that’s almost ten years away!” She grimaced. “I’d like to see my niece before I get covered in wrinkles, you know?! How were the photos they sent?”

“I don’t know, they didn’t let me see.” João laughed. “They said it was a surprise for you and that I lacked emotional knowledge to be moved by their content.”

“My, my!” Marie wanted to laugh, but she held back. The last thing she needed was to attract her mother’s attention again and get her reminded that her siblings were already married while she ‘turned’ into a spinster.

“All I know is that there is one of Rui Patrício, especially for you.”

She grinned in pure mirth and joy. She couldn’t imagine the effort it took to make their stubborn toucan remain quiet during the photoshoot.

Mr. Pearson stood up, indicating that it was time for the brandy. That is, with a full stomach, the men would retire to the office, smoke a cheroot, stuff themselves with alcohol and “discuss business”. Maria Clara should be used to this by now, but after two years of learning and participating in the affairs of the Shelby Co., she wished her father could see her in action… Even if it was in an informal negotiation.

Powerless, she remained in her place.

±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±±

Esme was the last to get out of the car, and Marie helped her with the kids. John and Arthur were at the church door, smiling and cracking some dirty jokes. After assigning each other to their respective seats, Maria Clara returned to the entrance, this time to wait for her own family.

They had spent a great week in London, although she couldn’t show all her development as a businesswoman. Nonetheless, he was happy. Her father had praised her when she helped him fill in some documents, and he found her hunch about the export of cachaça very interesting. Perhaps, over the course of that year, she could prove her worth — to both him and Michael. And speaking of the demon, he soon showed up as if conjured.

Ridiculously handsome in a dark-blue suit.

Hell, wasn’t there a day he looked like a normal human being?!

“If I were you, I wouldn’t try to catch the bouquet.” Michael commented, approaching her with lazy strides.

“Are you afraid of competition?”

“I’m scared for your future husband’s sanity, to be honest.”

“Don’t bother. He’s sure to have a better life than your future wife.” Marie lifted her chin haughtily. “That is, if you ever manage to catch one.”

“What are you two arguing about? Isaiah wedged himself between them.

“Michael is afraid of my stealing his bouquet.” She smiled wickedly.

“Oh, I do hope for that!” Isaiah briefly looked at his friend. “I already have a speech prepared to ask for your hand, Marie. My father will celebrate it for free!” He winked, his attention back at her. “Then, we’ll go to Brazil, start our family and raise our children on a beautiful farm that was a gift from your brothers, and we’ll visit the beach once a month.”

“You have everything figured out... Better than Robert ever did.” Maria Clara couldn’t help but laugh. “I promise I’ll do my best to catch it, then.”

“For fuck sakes, shut up!” Michael grumbled, rolling his eyes. “If her mother hears this, she won’t leave you alone.”

“Yeah, he’s right about that.” She looked down the dirty road. “I didn’t feel like a spinster, but Mama makes it sound like I’m being sentenced to death.”

“It’s times like these I love being a man.” Isaiah straightened his suit.

“Where’s your flower?” Marie frowned. “You should be wearing it, Isaiah.”

“I didn’t know where to put it, so I kept it in my pocket.” Removing the crumpled garment, he handed it to her. “I don’t think it’s going to nice to wear it, though.”

“Don’t worry, I know how to fix it.” Pulling some petals off, she made the plant look more presentable... Slightly ‘shy’ next to the others, but presentable.

Michael sighed, taking his own flower and starting to tear it apart like Isaiah’s. He didn’t understand how Maria Clara managed to get him so off track that his actions mirrored a child’s tantrum, like Karl’s or Charles’, however, there he was, holding back so as not to make unpleasant comments and disrupt her good mood.

“What’s your problem?!” Marie roared.

“I didn’t want Isaiah to feel left out with a limp flower.” He raised an eyebrow, the green globes glowing in defiance and derision.

“Good God,” She let out a breath. “I don’t have the energy to deal with you today.” She turned to Isaiah, smoothing his tie and smiling humourlessly, then went inside.

Michael felt Isaiah’s reproachful gaze on him, but he remained looking at the road.

“There was no need for that, Micky.”

“Don’t even start, mate.” He crossed his arms.

The ceremony was beautiful, but the party was better. Maria Clara joined Ada and Polly, while Grace received the greetings from other guests. There was something going on among the Blinders, because most of them were quietly withdrawing, and when Tommy walked away, too, Marie knew it was serious.

She tried not to worry. Despite being impulsive, those boys were smart enough and would know how to keep the situation under control... At least until the reception was over.

Charlotte was in a corner with a few friends, all giggling. What did Michael like about her? Marie always wondered. Her neck was a little too long, her eyes weren’t steady, the way she held her posture indicated someone unkempt, her hair looked like it hadn’t been styled in a few days and… Marie was being mean. Good God.

“Have you ever talked to her?” Polly’s voice startled her. Marie stared at the woman, then followed her gaze to... Charlotte.

“A few times.” She cleared his throat. “She usually shows up at the company and asks if Michael is busy... Sometimes she calls to leave a message.”

“Calls you? But you’re not his secretary!” Ada’s eyes widened indignantly.

“Well, I think she still hasn’t realized that yet.”

“Michael should take care of his own problems, Marie.” She insisted.

“Yes, but I...” Marie stopped. “I don’t mind at all.” What a big lie! “I use it to my own advantage. I always know when he’s busy with her, so I can blackmail him. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve threatened to tell Tommy about his adventures during work hours.”

“If you feel like it’s too much, tell me.” Polly took her hand, determined. “Michael doesn’t earn a shit ton of money to get loose at the office!”

“I thought about asking for a transfer to the London’s quarters, but Esme and John said I need to stay here. Lizzie too... We work well together.” She faked a smile.

“Oh, Marie!” Polly sighed, heart full of tenderness. “I know that Michael is not the best person to have around, but I must agree with Esme and Lizzie. You have to stay in Birmingham! In London you’d be exposed to more danger and wouldn’t have so much freedom either; after all, your name would link you to the Ton.” She shrugged. “And you told me you don’t want to be tied to them like that.”

Maria Clara nodded, a little upset. Whenever she thought about it, she got more confused than before. It wasn’t fair to let Michael stunt her growth, but she couldn’t bear the heartache of seeing him with some other girl. In London, at least, she wouldn’t have to witness that every single day… Nonetheless, she’d have to get more active into high society, and that was depressing too. The Pearsons would ask her to stay with them, and then they would try to restore the entire engagement plan.

“I really like it here.” She confessed. “And I like you all very much.”

“We like you a lot too!” Ada grinned. “But Birmingham? I don’t like here at all.”

“Little sister,” Pedro approached them, offering his hand. “wanna dance?”

“Not really, but as I see Mama getting up, I’ll accept.”

The four of them laughed and Marie pretended not to see Michael walking back into the hall and calling for Charlotte. She would enjoy that night with her family and the ‘other’ family that took her in… She wouldn’t let him mess that.

‘No Cocaine’ was what Tommy had said. But Charlotte had brought money and was begging for a few ounces. So, Michael was counting the ballots while the girl sniffed a line. Putting the money away, he took out a cigarette and lit it. It was reasonably satisfying that Charlotte didn’t ask him to put it off, but Michael had gotten used to Maria Clara’s scowls. He could even hear her mumbling.

“Lizzie?” Well, the truth is, he was really listening to her. “Lizzie?” The room’s door was opened, and Marie’s face peeked in. “Ah, sorry! I didn’t know it was occupied.”

“No problem.” Charlotte smiled. “Want one?” She indicated the table with snow.

“Thank you, I don’t do this.” The Brazilian’s face was serious, then her attention fell on Michael. “Have you seen or heard of Lizzie?

“No.” He replied. “Why’s that?”

“I need to pass her a message from Tommy.” Marie was closing the door when Michael called her. She stuck her face inside again. “What do you want?”

“What do you have to tell her? If it’s business related, I...”

“It’s none of your business, Mr. Gray.” The door almost slammed shut.

Michael didn’t even ask Charlotte for permission, he got up quickly and left the room, ready to argue with Maria Clara for her lack of manners.

“I said that if it was related to the company I should...” He took her by the arm.

“It is not!” Marie cut him off. “It’s a personal matter.”

“Why?”

“I told you it’s none of your business! Let me go, Michael.” She squirmed, annoyed. “I need to find Lizzie before Tommy has a stroke.”

“What personal matter is so serious that’d make him have one?”

“It’s about her boyfriend; for God’s sake, Michael!” Marie growled. “Why don’t you leave me alone and go entertain your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He snapped back, no hesitation.

“That’s not my fucking problem!”

He widened his eyes, releasing her at the same second. He could count on his fingers how many times he had heard Maria Clara curse, each of them she was in an extreme situation. But what was so extreme between them now? What did Lizzie’s boyfriend do? Had she found out about the restaurant?

“If you tell me what happened, we can split up to look for her and whoever finds her first gives the message. Much more effective, no?” Michael suggested, affable.

“Tommy doesn’t want him here but thinks he’ll show up anyway. Lizzie needs to uninvite him quick, ‘cause Mr. Changretta won’t even be able to get past the entrance gate.”

“I see.” His expression turned serious. “I better find her alone, then; and you can go back to the party. Lizzie must not like what she has probably already discovered.”

“What do you mean by that?” Marie frowned. “What… What did you do, Michael?”

“It’s none of your business, milady.”

“Michael!” She insisted. “What did the Blinders do?”

“Changretta is not the ideal man for Lizzie, we just helped him see it. Stop making a fuss or someone will listen!”

“You had no right to interfere in her affairs! Good Lord, do you all think you have any say in someone else’s private life?!”

“If she’s a Blinder, then we do.” For a moment, Marie thought she was talking to Tommy. Michael looked just like his cousin sometimes!

“That’s not fair! We can never talk about the women you choose!” She was livid, red with anger… But the Shelbys crossed the line this time.

The damned scoundrel flashed her a smirk.

“Oh, and?” Crossing his arms, he looked at her in the same patronising way Tommy watched Charles throwing a tantrum.

“Why, you...” She took a deep breath, pondering what to say. “Seu mequetrefe! Patife!” Marie blurted out in Portuguese, turning her back on him and stomping away.

To her complete relief, Maria Clara found Lizzie near the phones, but the damage had been done. She was annoyed and upset about the real reason of Angel Changretta’s absence, and Marie felt immense compassion. Why should she see Tommy with his wife while she was helpless? The anger at what Michael had said and at the injustice increased.

“I need a drink.” Lizzie announced as they headed down the hall.

“If you want, we can hide in the library until we’re drunk.” Marie suggested.

“Oh, Marie, it would be a dream! Do you think anyone will miss us?”

“Possibly not.”

“Then please guide the path, milady.” Lizzie bowed elegantly.

Maria Clara laughed, shaking her head. The two entered a parallel corridor, and at the third door on the right was the library. Since she had visited Arrow House almost a million times, she knew where all the alcohol was kept – good quality or bad.

Yes, today she would have fun with the cachaça her father had gifted Tommy.

“What will you drink?” Marie indicated all the bottles.

“What is your choice?”

“A few shots of cachaça and then brandy.”

“Cachaça?”

“Yeah... It is quite our ‘rum’.” She winked, smiling mischievously. “It’s delicious!”

The first dose made Lizzie squint. She commented that it had a different burn than other spirits, and Marie concluded that she had just made another cachaça fan. Well, one more for the team. Filling another shot, she raised her glass, proposing a toast.

“For all the stupid men in the world who don’t deserve a woman’s heart!”

“For all the stupid men who make us feel special and then change completely!”

“For all the one-sided loves we have to put up with!”

The two toasted and downed the shots.

“Hey, Marie,” Lizzie stared at her as she poured herself some brandy. “it’s Michael, isn’t it?” The Brazilian widened her eyes for a second, then regained her mild expression. “The stupid man and one-sided love, that is. It’s him, isn’t it?”

“I wish it was anyone else.” Maria Clara sighed, agreeing.

“I’ve had a hunch, but when you said you were thinking about moving to London and he started bringing Charlotte to the company, so I was sure.”

“It’s pathetic, I know.” She downed her last shot of cachaça, scowling afterwards. “Since I first saw him... It was the fact that he distinguished himself from the Blinders... Or his eyes.” Marie stared out the window, which overlooked the vibrant green field. “I thought it would pass, but it only got stronger.”

“I don’t think it’s pathetic, Marie. It’s a shame, that’s all.” Lizzie shrugged. “Do you mind if I smoke?”

“No, no, go on. You deserve it.” Marie gestured. “Maybe I’ll smoke too.”

“Jesus Christ, Marie.” Lizzie laughed. “I can’t let that happen! At least one of us...”

“I don’t think Linda smokes.”

“Linda is not one of us.”

“Oh, well.” She smiled mischievously. “Not even my mother is so... Devoted.”

The two girls burst into laughter. It wasn’t fair to talk about Linda like that, since they barely knew each other, but from everyone else’s experiences — and the little time Marie spent with the woman — it wasn’t a complete lie.

“Lizzie...” She called. “You think Michael would marry Charlotte?”

“I have no idea. He’s getting more and more like Tommy, except he’s reasonably refined and understated.” Breathing out the smoke, Lizzie relaxed in her chair. “Do you?”

“I don’t know either.” She confessed. “If that happens, will you promise to help me transfer to London? I’ll do anything to take you there with me!”

“Will the omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent Mr. Shelby let me go, though?” Her voice was pure mockery. Marie laughed out loud at the comparison to God.

“I’m sorry for what you have to put up with, Lizzie.” Her smile died. “I don’t know how you stand tall, but it shows me how brave you are.”

“I need the money, Marie. I can’t afford a broken heart to dictate my job... And I don’t want to go back to the old one.” Her eyes blurred with memories. Maria Clara had heard her story from John, and she could never explain what she felt specifically, but it was a mixture of compassion, pride and hope. “He promised I would never have to do that again, and I believed him.”

“If it’s up to us, Lizzie, you’ll never come back.” Marie said, convinced.

After nearly drinking the entire bottle of cognac, they were emotionally prepared to re-join the party. Going arm in arm and leaning on each other’s bodies to keep their balance, they walked with (little to none) grace to the hall.

Pedro was the one who noticed his sister’s drunkenness first. João realized right away and went to her rescue. Luckily, their parents were too busy with some of the bride’s relatives to acknowledge their daughter’s chaotic state.

“Hey, Marie!” João pulled her close. “Have you gone crazy?”

“No, Jota.” Maria Clara let out a low laugh.

“If Mama sees you like that, she’ll kill you! Lucky we’re not in Brazil, or else...”

“It would be utter vulgar and scandalous.” She completed, tuning her voice as if imitating her mother. “It’s like this here as well… Worse, even, for I’m a foreigner.”

“Oh no.” He shook his head exactly like their father did, and it made Marie momentarily emotional. Having them close on that occasion reminded her that, despite hiding it well, she missed her brothers and her Papa very much. “Come with me, you need to eat something sweet and drink water.”

“I’m not hungry at all.”

“There’s a chocolate bomb.” João raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Hmpft,” She stomped her foot in a fit. “Maybe I’ll eat something.”

“And drink a glass of water.” He pleaded. “I promise I won’t ask for anything else.”

Marie nodded, letting him guide her around the room.

The two sat in a corner; while João Antônio did his best to keep his sister from getting the dessert’s filling on her dress, and she told him about the pleasant time she had spent with Lizzie at the library getting drunk.

“Say,” She continued in Portuguese. “we wouldn’t have done this if it was Arthur’s wedding. Turns out, well, it’s a secret, Jota.” She blinked. “I’ll tell you because you’re my brother and I know you aren’t a gossip... It’s impolite to gossip, both in Brazil and here.” Marie held his hand for a brief second, face serious.

“Of course.” He nodded, wiping her mouth with a napkin.

“Lizzie is in love with Tommy.” She confessed. “And it must be pretty hurtful to be at the wedding of the man one likes. Don’t you think?” Despite drunk, Marie exuded empathy.

“Certainly.” He held out the glass of water, watching her take a generous sip. “And then you suggested she drink to ease the pain and sadness?”

“Hers and mine.” Marie agreed. “Two birds with one stone.” She frowned. “Isn’t that a bad idiom? Poor birds, what a cruel death!”

“Why don’t you say ‘combining business with pleasure’? We won’t kill anything.”

“You know that Pedro is my favourite brother, don’t you? Because you’re older and we didn’t have as much contact during your teenage years.” She looked at him sincerely. “But you were always the one who understood me best, Jota. I miss your advices and your frowning face whenever Pedro and I got scolded for some mischief...”

“What a beautiful image you have of me, Marie.” João chuckled, helping her with the last bite of the chocolate bomb. Since there was too much filling, he wasn’t being able to keep it from running down her chin. “And what a blow to my ego, too. I always thought that Pedro had fallen to second after burning you debut dress! I’ll never forget your murderous look.” He smirked, using the napkin again.

“The dress!” Marie cried. “Good Heavens, I might weep now!”

“About the dress or about your situation and Lizzie’s?”

“What situation?” She concealed. “We’re happy now, aren’t we?”

“I don’t know, little sister. It’s you who must tell me.”

Maria Clara scanned the room, seeing Michael and Charlotte in a circle with Isiah, Finn and other girls. He was smoking, inhaling the smoke in what Marie knew as a ‘French inhale’ in Brazil; there, she heard them calling it ‘Irish Waterfall’.

“I’m furious, to be honest.” She shook her head. “But I have no right to feel that way. So, we can say I’m happy.” She drank the rest of the water.

“Why not?”

“Ah Jota, you men are so very dense.” Marie crossed her arms, despondent.

“Or it’s you women who are so very complicated.” Her brother shrugged.

“Can you get me another chocolate bomb?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” João bowed, getting up.

[thefinalcinderella]

Kaze ga Tsuyoku Fuiteiru Chapter 10 - Shooting Star (Part 1)

We finally made it...we’re in the endgame now...

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. My Grandfather’s Clock is a popular song written by Henry Clay Work in 1876. The 2002 version by Ken Hirai was especially popular in Japan

Previous | Next

January 3rd, 5 a.m.

Yuki was in a dimly lit room in the Ashihara Ryokan. He changed into his Kansei University uniform and jersey and picked up his bench coat.

Two hours had already passed since Yuki woke up. After breakfast and a bath courtesy of the ryokan that took place at a time that could be better called late night, Yuki returned to the room where he had spent the night once the food in his stomach digested properly.

It was a night where he wasn’t sure if he had slept or not. However, his mind was clear and lucid. Excitement and tension became sharp blades that pared his body, and he felt somewhat light.

My energy is high, Yuki thought. He had felt the same way when he passed the bar exam. He read the questions for the essay exam and wrote his answer. It was almost funny how the meaning of the questions soaked into his brain, and before he could even think about how to answer them, the answer sheet was filled with words; it was just like automatic writing. He had never been able to output so smoothly what had been inputted into him until that moment, as though his consciousness had become clear and his sixth sense was working.

He knew that the same moment of elation and focus was about to visit his body and mind.

The return leg of the Hakone Ekiden started at 8 a.m. Yuki would slowly warm up over the next three hours, in order to build up his energy levels. It was Yuki’s method to relax and relieve his nervousness for two hours, and then concentrate on warming up for the remaining hour. Ever since the time when he was confronting his bar exam, Yuki preferred to increase the intensity of his concentration at this pace.

The six-mat guest room was completely occupied by the three futons laid out on the floor. Shindou, wearing his mask, was breathing faintly in his sleep. Yuki gently put his hand on his forehead and found it was still a little hot. The landlord was grinding his teeth as he slept soundly.

Yuki lightly folded his futon and put it in a corner so as to not wake them. Standing by the window, he quietly pulled back the curtains: the cozy garden of the ryokan was covered with a light dusting of snow, and ashy snowflakes continued to fall from the dark sky.

Yuki had never been skiing before. He didn’t understand going to the trouble of sticking boards to your feet in a cold place in a cold season. He thought it would be better to spend that time on one’s studies, and more than that, living with a single mother, they had no money to spend on fun.

Can I run down a steep, snow-covered slope? I can’t say I don’t want to run in the sixth leg at this point. Should I have at least experienced skiing if it’s like this?

The window was immediately fogged up by Yuki’s breath. The room was slightly warm from Yuki, Shindou and the landlord's combined body heat.

It’s not just me, Yuki reminded himself. In the past few years, there has never been snow on the roads of Hakone at New Year’s. Most of the runners—no, maybe all of them—have never gone down the mountain roads of Hakone covered in snow. Everyone lacks experience. I can run. I can run.

Chanting that in his mind as though to convince himself, Yuki picked up Kansei’s sash from the alcove. It seemed to still be damp from absorbing the sweat of the five people who had run in the outbound leg.

After carefully folding the sash and putting it in his jersey pocket, Yuki quietly left the guest room.

He walked through the corridor to the front door and saw the ryokan’s proprietress holding a newspaper.

“Oh, you’ve already changed?”

“Yes. I’ll be warming up from now on.”

“Outside?” Looking at the still-dark front of the building, the proprietress furrowed her brow in concern. “It’s minus five degrees right now.”

Yuki had planned to go outside, but he quickly changed his mind. He would have to wait until the temperature rose a little, or his muscles would stiffen up from the cold.

“May I borrow this space?”

He pointed at the empty lobby, and the proprietress graciously said, “By all means.

“Do you want to read the paper? I asked them to deliver it earlier today.”

While reading the newspaper, Yuki sat down on the floor of the lobby and began to stretch. He exhaled and began to relax his muscles and joints.

The paper had a big spread on the outbound leg of the Hakone Ekiden. Bousou University won the outbound leg by a narrow margin. It was a close race where it was impossible to tell if Rikudou University would make a comeback in the return leg, or which school would take the overall victory.

There was also a mention of Kansei under the headline “A Challenge with Only Ten People”. There was a photo of Shindou, unsteady and desperately trying to run on the mountain roads. Yuki opened his legs and brought his upper body down while reading the article.

“With only ten members, Kansei University unexpectedly put on the brakes in the fifth leg. They dropped down drastically in the rankings and ended the outbound leg in eighteenth place. However, with ace runners such as Kurahara, a freshman, and Kiyose, a fourth-year, in the return leg, there are still plenty of opportunities for a comeback. All eyes will be on the development of this small team’s great challenge.”

At the end of the article, there was a signature (布). It’s Nunoda-san, Yuki thought. The reporter Nunoda, who had come to Lake Shirakaba during summer vacation, had continued to keep an eye on Kansei.

There are still more than enough opportunities. We believe that, but it’s reassuring to have a third party say so as well. Yuki put the newspaper on the rack in the lobby and silently worked on stretching.

It was 6 when Shindou appeared in the lobby. He was wearing Musa’s bench coat and a mask. “Good morning,” he said in a hoarse voice, and pushed on Yuki’s back to help him stretch.

“You should be sleeping.”

“I asked Musa to give me a wake-up call because I knew you would be thoughtful like that.” Shindou sat down next to Yuki. “It’s snowing.”

“Yeah.”

The two watched the fluttering snow through the lobby window.

“How are you feeling?”

“Good. What about you?”

“I’m feeling much better.”

Yuki began doing sit-ups. Shindou lightly held his ankles still.

“To tell you the truth,” Yuki murmured, “I’m getting uncomfortably nervous. I want to run away, if I could.”

“I was the same way,” Shindou laughed under his mask. “Why don’t you try listening to some music? I took it from your luggage without asking.”

Yuki took the iPod Shindou gave him and put the earphones in his ears. He listened to his favorite songs for a while, but today, the world of sound was no comfort to Yuki.

“It’s no use.” Yuki tore out his earphones. “When I’m running, it feels like music I don’t like is playing through my head incoherently and endlessly. And it’s music that you can’t even get into! Like My Grandfather’s Clock (1) and stuff like that!”

“You hate it?”

“I don’t like irritating things.”

“I think it’s a good song, though,” Shindou said, and Yuki stood up with a “hmph.” Looking up at Yuki, who was rotating his ankles, Shindou made a suggestion.

“No matter what song plays in your head, you can always arrange it so it’s up-tempo.”

“Shindou, you’re amazing.” Yuki was deeply impressed. “I’m filled with worries. All I can think about are bad things like, what if I fall down the slope, or what if my shoelaces get torn off.”

“Yuki-senpai, you can even aim for the sectional prize.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you’ve always accomplished what you said you would do. Whether it’s the bar exam or the Hakone Ekiden, you said you’ll do it, and you did.” Only Shindou’s eyes were smiling. “So say it this time too. That you’re aiming for the sectional prize.”

As though pushed by Shindou’s quiet force, Yuki said, “I am.”

“Yes, then it’s fine now. You will definitely run a good time.”

Yuki looked down at Shindou, who was nodding in satisfaction, and couldn’t help but laugh.

“I know how useless I was yesterday,” Yuki said. “I knew you were experiencing this pressure before the race, but I couldn’t support you like this.”

“No matter how much support I get, in the end, I’m the only one who can bounce back from the pressure.” Shindou also stood and prompted Yuki. “Let’s jog.” The two put on their shoes at the door and went outside. There was no sign of the sunrise anywhere, but birds were singing in the mountains. The fine snow felt dry against their cheeks.

“But yesterday, you stayed by my side until the very last moment before I started running, Yuki-senpai. That gave me a lot of strength.” Shindou pulled down his mask and breathed in the cold air. “That’s why, I’ll stay with you today. I’ll stay with you until you start.”

Yuki didn’t have any words to respond. He was simply happy, and watched Shindou put his mask back on.

“We’ll freeze if we stay in one spot. Let’s run.”

“By the way, how’s the landlord?”

“He said he’s going to take a morning bath.”

“He’s in a sightseeing mood, that person.”

“His nighttime teeth grinding was very loud, wasn’t it?”

They chatted about trifling things as they jogged, and Yuki and Shindou's white breaths flowed shakily along the dark, snowy lakeside path.

---

Kakeru was feeling restless.

Kiyose was acting strange. When Kakeru invited him to go jogging after breakfast, he refused, saying, “Go ahead. I’ve got a lot of calls to make.”

It’s definitely strange that Haiji-san didn’t do his morning jog. He didn’t seem to sleep well last night either. I wonder if his leg hurts.

After running around Yokohama Station for about thirty minutes, Kakeru decided to go back to the hotel. He could still warm up at the relay station. He had never cut a jog short before, no matter how sick he was, but right now he was worried about Kiyose. He wondered if he was planning on pushing himself too hard. As if spurred on by a bad premonition, Kakeru ran back to the hotel.

In the lobby of the small business hotel, Jouji was opening a sports newspaper while watching the weather forecast on TV. Noticing Kakeru running across the lobby and pushing the button for the elevator, he came up to him and said, “You’re early.

“Your jogging time was unusually short today.”

“Where’s Haiji-san?”

“I think he’s in his room. Prince-san and Hana-chan are organizing their luggage together. I was chased away. I can sense that he’s trying to keep me away from Hana-chan.” Jouji pouted in dissatisfaction, but Kakeru wasn’t listening anymore. He rode the elevator to the fifth floor. “What’s going on?” Jouji asked as he followed him.

Kansei had three rooms: Kakeru and Kiyose’s room was at the far end of the corridor, Jouji and Prince’s was next to theirs, and Hanako’s room was near the elevator.

After exiting the elevator, Kakeru passed a man in the hallway. He was in his late thirties and carrying a large black bag in his hand. Thinking that it looked like a house call bag, Kakeru turned around with a start. The doors to the elevator the man got into were just about to close.

That wasn’t a guest just now. That was a doctor. Kakeru had a hunch. He must be the doctor who came to examine Haiji-san’s leg.

“Haiji-san!”

Kiyose was sitting by the window near the two beds. He looked up in surprise at Kakeru’s menacing attitude, and Kakeru sprang at him.

“Let me see your leg, let me see it!”

Kiyose fell down onto the bed, pushed by the momentum. Kakeru didn’t care and tried to pull up the cuff of Kiyose’s track pants.

“Just calm down, Kakeru! I’ll explain!”

Jouji was standing in the doorway of their room, watching in amazement as Kakeru and Kiyose grappled with each other. Noticing the commotion, Prince and Hanako came out of the room next door.

When Hanako asked, “What’s this all about?” Jouji tilted his head to the side.

“Uh, I have no idea.”

Kiyose finally pulled Kakeru off of him and beckoned everyone in the doorway to come in. The group that had stayed in Yokohama gathered in the room and sat down on the beds and chairs of their choice.

“Haiji-san, there was a doctor in this room a while ago, wasn’t there?” Kakeru sat on the bed and questioned Kiyose.

“There was,” Kiyose admitted as though he could see that there was no way out of this. “It was the doctor who always examines me. I asked him to make a house call and he gave me some painkillers.”

“The leg you said you injured—did it not heal?” Prince asked in shock. Jouji and Hanako had never even heard that Kiyose was injured, and they looked at each other in disbelief.

“What are you going to do?” It was all Kakeru could do not to let his voice tremble.

“Of course I’m running.”

“Are you okay with being so reckless?”

“If I’m not going to be reckless now, then when?”

“If…” Kakeru hesitated to put it into words. He was afraid that if he said it aloud, it would become reality.

“What if you can’t run for the rest of your life because of your recklessness today?”

He saw Jouji gasp and Prince hanging his head. Hanako didn’t move, only watching the course of Kiyose and Kakeru’s exchange.

Kakeru stared fixedly at Kiyose and waited for a response.

“It would be very painful,” Kiyose’s voice was quiet, and Kakeru knew that he had been thinking about that for a long time already. “But I won’t regret it.”

There’s no stopping him, Kakeru thought. If he were in Kiyose’s position, he would still choose to run.

Kakeru made up his mind. If that’s the case, then there’s only one thing I can do: to put as little burden on Haiji-san as possible, I should gain as much time as I can in the ninth leg.

The silence that enveloped the room was broken by Kiyose's phone ringing. He hung up after a short conversation.

“That was Shindou. The final entries were announced at Lake Ashi. Just as expected, Rikudou put Fujioka in the ninth leg.”

Jouji looked at Kakeru with both anticipation and worry in his eyes. “Okay,” Kakeru murmured. Blood was rushing through his body, and his heart was beating with joy and a fighting spirit; the day had come when they could finally compete in the same place. At the TSU meet in spring, he had only chased Fujioka’s back, but it was finally time to test how fast and strong he had become since then.

“Kakeru, don’t lose the race,” Kiyose said. Kakeru nodded determinedly.

It was past 7 in the morning.

They had to leave the hotel now. From now on, they were to split up: Kakeru and Jouji were going to the Totsuka relay station; Kiyose and Prince were going to the Tsurumi relay station; Hanako was going to Otemachi, the finish line.

“Are you okay with Jouji attending you? I can go with you, if you’d like,” Prince asked Kakeru, but he didn’t understand the intention of his question at all.

“Why? It’s fine as we planned.”

Even though his generous consideration was turned down, Prince didn’t seem offended at all, instead laughing and shaking his head lightly as though to say, “Good grief.”

When they reached the Yokohama Station premises, Kiyose said to Kakeru, “About what you said earlier.

“The situation isn’t as serious as you think. The painkillers are working, and I’m not beyond recovery.”

“Is that really true?”

“Have I ever lied?”

“Quite a lot.”

Kiyose frowned at the sky for a few moments, seemingly recalling his past acts.

“Don’t worry. I’m telling the truth this time,” he smiled. “I’m looking forward to seeing you run at Tsurumi.”

He felt like he wanted to say something to Kiyose—his gratitude, worry, and determination. But they were feelings that would never take shape no matter how many words he spent on them, so Kakeru only said, “I’ll hand you the sash not a second late.”

The group raised their hands a little to say goodbye, and then headed up the stairs to the platform to go to their respective places.

---

8 a.m.

As the starting gun sounded from Lake Ashi, the Bousou runner started running first. One minute and thirty-nine seconds later, the Rikudou runner followed.

One after another, the runners from each school left Lake Ashi with their sashes, with a time difference reflecting the times they had finished at Lake Ashi in the outbound leg. This time, the return leg of the Hakone Ekiden was beginning, heading for Otemachi, Tokyo.

Schools with more than ten minutes of difference from the outbound leg leader, Bousou, would start together ten minutes after Bousou began the return leg. In this year’s race, five schools had to start at the same time: the federation selected team, Eurasia University, Kansei University, Tokyo Gakuin University, and Shinsei University.

Kansei had a time difference of eleven minutes and fifty-three seconds with Bousou. Even though they would start the race simultaneously after ten minutes, the extra one minute and fifty-three seconds would not be discarded and would be automatically added to their overall time. Because of the simultaneous start, the visible order in which the runners were running and their orders by their times might differ from each other for the return leg.

In the return leg, especially for lower ranked teams, the competitors must not only look at the race’s development before their eyes, but also keep in mind the complicated time calculation, and try to fight calmly to raise their actual rankings as much as possible.

I’m made for this, Yuki thought. Rather than competing against others, he preferred to think about how to achieve his goals by developing countermeasures and how to show off his abilities while doing that. The sixth leg of the Hakone Ekiden, the mountain descent, suited his personality; he didn’t have to be misled by the apparent rankings, he just had to use his skills to run down the winding slope against the invisible enemy called time.

Just as he had declared, Shindou stayed by Yuki’s side the entire time before his departure. He helped him stretch, massaged his calves to prevent them from stiffening up in the cold, and conversed with him casually. Thanks to him, Yuki was able to calm his mind and focus on the race.

When the time came to set off, Yuki took off his bench coat and left it with Shindou. The temperature at Lake Ashi was minus three degrees Celsius. There was still powder snow in the air. The road surface was covered in snow and the ruts were frozen. Even with a long-sleeved T-shirt under his uniform, there was no way to prevent the cold from pressing down on him. The lack of wind was the only saving grace.

Jounan Bunka University was the last team that was able to start according to its time difference with Bousou. After being called by the staff member, the teams hurriedly lined up at the start line to start simultaneously.

Yuki looked at the crowd of people next to him. Shindou was almost swallowed up by the waves of spectators, but he was watching Yuki firmly.

“We’ll meet at Otemachi,” Yuki said. It might not have reached him, having gotten lost in the cheers, but Shindou was nodding.

Ten seconds after Jounan Bunka, the runners from the five teams started running at the same time on cue. Yuki’s glasses immediately fogged up from his body heat, but he soon regained his clear vision thanks to the cold wind blowing.

The road surface was covered with a thin layer of snow, making it nerve-wracking to even walk on flat surfaces, but running on it, there was no time to check your footing. Every step he took, the sherbet-like snowflakes bounced off his legs. Even the lightest shoes with the latest features couldn’t prevent the soles from slipping slightly as they kicked the surface.

The first four kilometers from the lakeside road to the highest point of Route 1 were mostly uphill. Of the five teams that had started at the same time, Eurasia was in front and Yuki didn’t hesitate to follow him. When he checked his watch at the first kilometer, his pace was less than three minutes and twenty seconds.

On the way up, he was a little too fast considering the poor road conditions. But if he didn’t go all out here, then there was no way Kansei would be able to improve their ranking in the return leg. Besides, Yuki thought, among the runners assigned to the sixth leg, the Rikudou runner was the only one who has a record of twenty-eight minutes for the ten-thousand meter. In other words, the runners in the sixth leg don’t put much emphasis on speed.

From the highest point to the town of Hakone-Yumoto, almost the entire sixth leg was downhill. Even if your time on flat surfaces wasn’t good, you could still go fast on the downhill if you gathered momentum. What was important was the dexterity to change your running style depending on the ups and downs, a sense of physical balance, and the boldness to run downhill without fear.

Even if he entered the first uphill slope at a somewhat fast pace, he would be able to conserve enough stamina. With this judgement, Yuki didn’t recoil.

They left the lakeside and headed up the path towards the mountains. There was one small up-and-down right before the highest point. As they approached the first descent, Yuki looked at his watch again. Kiyose had instructed him to run at a pace of three minutes and twenty seconds per kilometer on the way up, but he was now going at a pace of three minutes and fifteen seconds per kilometer.

I can do it. He was convinced. His body felt light and he was able to asjust his footwork according to the ups and downs without even thinking about it.

Tokyo Gakuin University and Shinsei University were already about to be shaken off from the lower-ranked group, which was now composed of six schools as it had absorbed Jounan Bunka, who had departed ahead of them.

All Yuki could think about was overtaking as many schools as possible in front of him. The cold didn’t bother him anymore. He climbed to the highest point in one go.

The downhill slope, which stretched for nearly fifteen kilometers, awaited him, meandering on and on beyond the falling snow.

---

“Isn’t he going too fast?”

Watching the portable TV, Kakeru arrived at the Totsuka relay station with Jouji. The screen showed Yuki and the others passing in front of the main gate of the Flower Center, the five-kilometer marker.

“But I heard that the normal pace for the sixth leg is five kilometers in around thirteen minutes?” Jouji said in his usual carefree way, but it didn’t ease Kakeru’s concerns. It was the pace after you got into the descent in earnest—it was hard even for a runner himself to hold back his speed once he was completely going downhill. Once your body got into the rhythm of the descent, it wasn’t impossible to run down a hundred meters in fifteen seconds. In the sixth leg, despite the long distance of 20.7 kilometers, the speed in some places was comparable to that of a short distance run.

However, even though the first five kilometers were uphill and the road conditions weren’t good, he was running in sixteen minutes. Even with Yuki’s running ability, it seemed to Kakeru that this was clearly an excessive pace.

“I’ll call Haiji-san.”

Kakeru took out his phone from his jacket pocket.

“You worry too much,” Jouji said, shrugging a little.

“Yes, this is Kiyose.” The phone immediately relayed Kiyose’s voice along with the bustle from outside. It seemed that he had already arrived at the Tsurumi relay station.

“Are you listening to the radio?”

“Prince’s phone has a TV function. He also found out about it just now. We’re watching it. It’s amazing what you can do with a cell phone these days.”

“Yes. No, not about that…” Prince’s slow pace and Kiyose’s hopelessness with technology made Kakeru feel dizzy. “Isn’t Yuki-senpai running a little too fast?”

“Yeah. I would call the landlord, but there’s no point—the coach cars don’t stay close to the runners on the mountain roads of Hakone.”

“What should we do?”

“There’s nothing we can do. The rest is the descent. It would be foolish to slow down now, so we can only pray that Yuki doesn’t slip and fall,” Kiyose let out a light laugh, as though he had gotten over all his worries. “Anyways Kakeru, make sure to jog and warm up properly. I have to get in touch with Nico-chan-senpai and King now, so we’ll talk later.”

The call ended, and Kakeru let out a sigh.

“I told you it’s fine,” Jouji took the phone from Kakeru. “You need to trust us a little more.”

“Trust, huh,” Kakeru began to rotate his ankles and prepare for a jog. “Come to think of it, Katsuta-san said that too.”

“H-Hana-chan?” Jouji immediately turned red. “Why are you bringing up Hana-chan?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Are you doing that on purpose or are you really that airheaded?” Growing impatient with Kakeru’s pointless reply, Jouji turned to him again. “Hey, you know, I like Hana-chan.”

“I know.”

“You know!? How?”

“Nico-chan-senpai said it on the phone yesterday.”

Even when we’re apart from each other, we can still be overheard just as well as when we’re in Chikusei-sou, Jouji grumbled.

“What about you, Kakeru?” He asked the question he wanted to ask the most: “Is it okay if I confess to Hana-chan?”

Why do you need to check with me for that? It seems that the residents of Chikusei-sou are convinced that I like Katsuta-san. Kakeru, pondering up to that point, felt a jolt to his heart like the feeling of falling during the first stage of sleep.

I like Katsuta-san.

It was partly because he was so dense that he couldn’t even laugh at the twins, but it was a feeling that had been in his heart so quietly and naturally that he hadn’t been aware of it until now.

Kakeru had always kept Hanako’s figure carefully in his memory. The color of her scarf on the night they walked together. The profile of her face when she watched them train under the sky where summer clouds were rising. The first time he saw her, her thin back as she pedalled her bike through the shopping district.

Kakeru was looking at Hanako. And all that time, her eyes and thoughts were solely on the twins.

“Now I get it.”

Kakeru was shocked at his feelings that had finally become clear.

“…What are you talking about?” Jouji nervously asked, seemingly thinking that it was creepy how he had suddenly zoned and then nodded to himself.

“No,” Kakeru shook his head. “I think you should just confess to her.”

It wasn’t an act of bravado, but a feeling of clarity. He was sure that Hanako would be happy to know Jouji’s feelings. Perhaps she would be equally pleased with a confession from Jouta, and there might be a quarrel there. But that wasn’t Kakeru’s business.

This wasn’t a competition. Hanako’s heart belonged to her. Jouji’s heart belonged to him as well. It was the same as how Kakeru’s heart only belonged to him. It was a domain that was free from all standards and measures, something no one could steal or bend.

It was satisfying to know that there was a gentle but strong feeling within him that had nothing to do with speed or victory or defeat. Hanako, who taught him those feelings, seemed more and more important to him. Kakeru would be happy if her love was realized.

Also, I’m used to long-distance running. I’m good at patiently waiting for an opportunity. Even if Hanako has feelings for the twins right now, you can’t state definitively that it’ll be forever.

“I see, I guess it’s better to tell her. Uwah, what should I do, I’m so nervous.”

Jouji was determined to confess his feelings to Hanako without any hesitation, not realizing that Kakeru, who was patient when it came to the important things, was chewing on his first realization of love like a ruminating cow.

---

Yuki was smoothly descending the mountain.

In the beginning, he tried to run on the ruts because he was afraid of slipping on the frozen snow, but then he couldn’t steer a good course through the turns. Too much concern about slipping would cause him to put pressure on his muscles, which would make it all come to nothing. In the end, Yuki decided to run and take the course as usual.

Running downhill is fun, Yuki thought. To be able to feel such acceleration with my own body. His speed was so fast that even the soft snowflakes hitting his face from the front hurt like pebbles. While balancing with his whole body, he followed the slope as it led him forward. His fear of falling down didn’t cross his mind at all in the face of the pleasure of speed.

The front of Kowakien was the ten-kilometer point of the sixth leg. It was also a TV relay point. Even though the weather was bad and it was early in the morning, there were spectators along the roadside cheering for them. Following the Eurasia runner, Yuki turned to the right, and he could hear the watery footsteps of the Shinsei runner right behind him.

Yuki, of course, had no way of knowing, but the announcer and the commentator Yanaka were watching the live feed and commentating on the running of the athletes from each school.

“The footage of the lower-ranked teams at the ten-kilometer mark is coming in. What do you think, Yanaka-san?”

“They’re going at quite a fast pace. I thought that the section prize for the sixth leg would go to Manaka, who is steadily improving their rank from twelfth place, but there is a possibility that it will go to one of the lower-ranked teams.”

“According to the data at hand, except for Tamura-kun of Rikudou, all the runners in the sixth leg have an official record in the twenty-nine-minute range for the ten-thousand meters.”

“When it comes to the mountain descent, the time on flat surfaces is not that important. If you can run ten-thousand meters in the twenty-nine-minute range, then the rest is all down to guts.”

“Guts, you say?”

“Yes. The speed and incline the runners experience is much more than what you see on the screen. It’s like pedalling a bike down a steep slope with both hands free. And today, the footing isn’t good. It’s crucial to calmly keep your balance and have the guts to keep your momentum going.”

“Which of the lower-ranked teams do you think is closest to the section prize?”

“I still don’t know yet, but I like Iwakura-kun of Kansei. He has a very stable lower body. His upper body doesn’t sway unnecessarily, and he doesn’t flinch from running down bad roads at all. He is an excellent example of how to run downhill.”

“I see. The rest would depend on their persistence when the road becomes flat after Hakone-Yumoto. They've passed the ten-kilometer TV relay point.”

As they descended in altitude, the snow turned into sleet mixed with rain and the road became covered with a sherbet-like muck. Yuki realized that he had crossed the width of the crosswalk in two steps.

The current crosswalk was probably four meters wide. If he had crossed it in two steps, then that meant he had gone two meters in one step. Yuki was once again shocked at himself—his acceleration was incredible. He had gained momentum and was literally running as if he were flying, and his stride was widening as a result. He glanced at his watch: for the past five kilometers, he had been running downhill at a pace of two minutes and forty seconds.

One kilometer in two minutes and forty seconds. It was a time Yuki couldn’t achieve on flat ground. As far as he knew, the only person who could sustain such a pace for five kilometers on level ground was Kakeru.

The branches of the cedar trees on the roadside were piled with pure white snow. The trunks were black and wet, and the mountains had been transformed overnight into a beautiful, monochromatic world. As soon as they appeared in the corner of his eye, they streamed backwards, smoother and faster than in a movie.

So, this is the world Kakeru normally experiences. Yuki had a lump in his throat.

Kakeru, you’re in a very lonely place, aren’t you? The wind rumbles loudly in your ears, and all the scenery passes by you in an instant. It feels so good that I never want to stop running, but it’s a world you can only experience alone.

For the first time, he understood why Kakeru was so devoted to running, sometimes to the point of overdoing it. If Yuki were allowed to run at such a speed, he would certainly indulge in it like an addict. He wanted to see the world in quicker, even more beautiful instants. Perhaps that was a momentary experience, almost like an eternity. However, it was too dangerous—it was a world that was too beautiful, too harsh to challenge with a flesh and blood body.

Now I’m just looking at the gate that would lead me there from a distance, with the help of the mountain roads of Hakone, Yuki thought. He knew that he wouldn’t get any closer.

Dragged in by Kiyose’s enthusiasm, Yuki’s life had been centered around running for the past year. But that life was coming to an end today. I have my own way of life. I don’t want to aim for momentary beauty and exaltation, sharpening my mind and body day after day. I want to choose to live among people, even if I’m covered in filth. That’s why I passed the bar and am trying to become a lawyer.

Today’s the end. But I’m glad I experienced this speed for the first and last time. Yuki smiled slightly as he sped along the mountain road. Kakeru, don’t go too far. What you’re aiming for is a beautiful place, but it’s lonely and quiet. So much that it doesn’t suit a living person.

It would be nice if there’s something to tie Kakeru’s soul to the earth, Yuki thought. In people’s lives, in people’s joys and sorrows. It’s only by planting his feet on the ground that Kakeru would definitely become even stronger. Balance was essential. It was the same as running down a snowy mountain road.

As Yuki entered the Miyanoshita Hot Spring Village and passed in front of the Fujiya Hotel, he saw something unexpected and let out a short cry.

“Uwah!”

In front of the hotel, there were many guests waving Hakone Ekiden flags. Some of them were dressed lightly in yukata and padded kimonos, shouting their voices hoarse even as they shrank back from the cold. Among them, Yuki saw his mother, his younger sister who was only half related to him, and his mother’s second husband.

“Yukihiko!” his mother shouted loudly.

“Onii-chan, do your best!” His young sister leaned forward, and his stepfather, who was holding her, nodded firmly.

“This is so embarrassing…”

He passed by the hotel in a few moments, but Yuki ran for a while with his head down. Did my family elegantly spend the New Year’s at that hotel? Yuki snarked inwardly to cover up his embarrassment. They probably knew I wouldn’t be able to come by even if they invited me, so they planned to surprise me by not saying anything. Even so, it’s too bad for my heart. I hope the TV and radio didn’t pick up the voices and figures of Mom and the others. Nico-chan-senpai would definitely make fun of me if he knew. Well, he should only have a radio, so I think I’ll be fine.

Yuki suddenly felt happy. That look on Mom’s face just now. She looked desperate and tearful, like she was the one running.

Yuki didn’t remember his biological father. He had died in an accident right after he was born, so his only memories of his father were in his mother’s words and photos. Since his father’s death, Yuki had only lived with his mother, and he treasured her very much. His high school girlfriend had once said to him, “Yuki, you’re a mama’s boy, aren’t you?” Of course I am, Yuki thought. A son who doesn’t take care of his mother isn’t a good son.

Perhaps because he grew up watching his mother work late into the night, Yuki set his sights on his goals early on. He wanted to get a steady job so that he could make his mother’s life easier. Fortunately, he had confirmed during his school life that his brain wasn’t half-bad. If that was the case, then it would be easy to aim for the bar exam, which was called the strongest qualification. He thought that being a lawyer, where he could work between logic and emotion, would be suitable for him, and more importantly, it seemed to make a lot of money. As soon as Yuki entered high school, he began preparing for the exam on his own. He studied hard and worked on his stamina. He thought that he should be well-versed in the inner workings of relationships between men and women, so he went out with girls.

However, something happened that made Yuki’s efforts all come to nothing: his mother remarried. Her new husband was an office worker who earned a decent wage, so his mother didn’t have to work anymore. She loved her new husband and seemed to be very happy. His stepfather was easily able to do more for her than Yuki had ever wanted to do for his mother.

Yuki couldn’t help but feel devastated. He had his pride, and when he decided to do something, he had to finish it, so he didn’t give up on passing the bar exam. However, it was all in vain now. The following year after his mother remarried, she had his little sister. This was also a situation that made Yuki, who was in his late teens, feel awkward and uncomfortable. When he got into university, he left home and rarely came back, even at New Year’s.

Seeing his family cheer him on made the trivial pent-up feelings he had melt away. As though to match that, the snow had completely transformed into rain.

Both his stepfather and his sister had always cared for Yuki as a member of the family. And most importantly, his mother was happy. That’s all that matters. That’s exactly what I’ve always wanted. It would be childish of me to keep sulking about the fact that my mother became happy in a slightly different way than I envisioned.

Yuki laughed, unnoticed by anyone else, in the midst of his white and billowing exhalation. Before he knew it, he caught a glimpse of the Teitou University runner's back at the end of the turn. He couldn’t sense anyone behind him; he seemed to have pulled away from the lower-ranked teams he had started the race with.

He looked at his watch and confirmed that he hadn’t slowed down his pace at all. His mind and body felt light. He could go the rest of the way downhill at this pace. What was important was whether or not he could keep up this running for the last three kilometers of flat ground after Hakone-Yumoto. Kiyose had given him advice yesterday.

“After a downhill slope, even flat ground feels like going uphill. That’s when the real battle begins.”

I think I’ll be okay, Yuki answered in his mind. I have no intention of losing today—to the battle between me and my body and mind.

---

The drums were still beating at the Odawara relay station. In front of Kazamatsuri Station, there were many people crowded into the kamaboko company's parking lot, waiting for the arrival of the sixth leg athletes.

“Did you see that, Jouta? Yuki’s face was there just now!”

Nico-chan had directly witnessed the scene in front of Fujiya Hotel with the TV function of his cell phone. It was only when Haiji called him earlier that he realized he could watch TV on Jouta’s phone as well. Even Nico-chan, who was knowledgeable about computers, only used his phone for calling, and Jouta only used his for texting. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t interested in the evolution of machines that he could be satisfied with the rundown apartment.

“Yuki-senpai’s mom is young and beautiful,” Jouta said, biting into a rolled omelette. “By the way, he’s going to win the section prize at this rate, isn’t he?”

“Yuki doesn’t seem to be aware of that fact, though. The Manaka guy is just as fast as him, so it's hard to tell.”

“Ugh, I’m so frustrated! I want to tell Yuki-senpai his time.”

“How?”

“I’ll use willpower or telekinesis or something,” Jouta put the omelet he was partway through eating away in his sports bag and began to look at his phone intently. “In less than twenty minutes, it will be Nico-chan-senpai’s turn.”

The screen showed Bousou in the lead, and Rikudou chasing behind with a difference of about one and a half minutes. They were about to finish their descent and head towards Hakone-Yumoto Station. The Manaka runner, aiming for the section prize, had improved his position and was now in eighth place. His pace hadn’t slowed at all.

“How’s Yuki?”

“He’s not on the screen. Until they go out to Hakone-Yumoto, the lower-ranked teams won’t be shown much.”

Nico-chan told Jouta to keep an eye on Manaka’s time and began his final adjustments. He ran lightly in the parking lot to loosen up.

Nine o’clock in the morning. The Bousou runner arrived at the station in the lead. His time was sixty minutes and forty-six seconds. Rikudou and Yamato were the next to receive their sashes. Nico-chan hurried back to Jouta, who was near the relay line.

“Amazing!” Jouta was excited. “Even on flat ground, his speed hasn’t slowed down. Keep going, Yuki-senpai!”

On the screen of his phone, he could see Yuki sidestepping the Teitou runner at the crossroad with New Hakone Road. Kansei, in fourteenth place, had a clear view of TSU in front of them.

“Yes, that’s it!”

Nico-chan took off his jersey. Now it was time to see if Yuki could get the section prize.

“Manaka?”

“We'll be able to see them with our own eyes soon.”

Jouta raised his head from his phone. “They’re here!” he shouted.

The red uniform of Manaka, running along the railroad tracks, was just about to turn off the road and enter the relay station. They knew he was a candidate for the section prize, so the cheers were even louder. Manaka’s sash was handed over.

“What’s his record!”

“Sixty minutes and twenty-four seconds.”

Jouta read the information on the TV screen on his phone out loud. It was a good time for running on snowy roads. Even Rikudou’s Tamura, whose ten-kilometer time was in the twenty-eight minute range, had a time of sixty minutes and forty-eight seconds.

At the relay station, the schools relayed their sashes one after the other. The TV screen showed that Yuki was almost there.

Yuki, just a little more. The staff member called Nico-chan to stand at the relay line. All that was left was a race against time. Next to him, the TSU runner received his sash and started running. He could hear Jouta’s voice as he timed Yuki on his watch.

“Sixty minutes and seventeen seconds, eighteen, nineteen…”

Yuki entered the relay station. He was gritting his teeth and holding the unfastened sash in his right hand. He might have learned Manaka’s time from the spectators along the road and was trying to summon up all his strength in the final stretch.

“Yuki!” Nico-chan howled. “Sixty minutes and twenty-four seconds,” Jouta screamed. There was a stir from the spectators. The sash still hadn’t been passed to Nico-chan’s hand. Yuki was a step short of the section prize.

But at that moment, Nico-chan forgot about the existence of times. Yuki’s eyes were looking straight at him. He wasn’t thinking about the section prize at all, he just wanted to give the sash to Nico-chan as soon as possible. That was the only thing he was thinking about as he made it through the last three flat kilometers. Nico-chan understood that. He could see that in Yuki’s fingertips, which were still hot and damp despite being exposed to the cold wind.

“Good job,” Nico-chan muttered.

“I’m tired. I’m leaving the rest to you.”

Yuki clapped Nico-chan on the back, managed to step firmly on his trembling legs, and prevented himself from falling over.

“Yuki-senpai!” Jouta snatched a towel from a staff member and ran up to Yuki to support him. “It's disappointing, but you were incredible!”

“Disappointing? What is?” Yuki drank water from a plastic water bottle and finally found his voice.

“The section prize. Yuki-senpai’s time was sixty minutes and twenty-six seconds. If you had been two seconds faster, you would have tied for the section prize.”

“Really.”

Two seconds. Yuki laughed. Only two seconds. Such a short amount of time that passed in a single breath. Did I miss out on being the best in this leg by such a small margin?

“Oh well,” Yuki said. “Those two seconds were like an hour to me.”

Jouta almost cried when he saw Yuki’s soles after he took off his shoes. The blisters at the base of his big toes had peeled off and there was blood welling up, even though the skin on his soles had grown so thick over the past year. He realized just how hard it was to run down the mountains of Hakone.

“Of course it was enough. You were so cool, Yuki-senpai.”

After patting the tearful Jouta on the head, Yuki looked at the road leading toward the town of Odawara.

I’m leaving the rest to you, Nico-chan-senpai.

Previous | Next

[random-imagines-blog]

Teenage Queen {Viktor Krum x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2835 Summary: Related to one Champion, ex of another and the budding love interest of a third. It’s one weird year.

Your final year at Hogwarts was not turning out to be as perfect as you had expected. You were just hoping that everything would go as normal; no deadly and dangerous adventures for your little brother Harry and his friends, no fighting with your boyfriend Cedric. Just a perfectly mediocre year where you focus on your studies, get good NEWTS and move on to train at your dream job. And then along came The Triwizard Tournament. Well, at least it was for Seventh Years only, and you had no intention of entering - and your fourth year brother certainly wouldn’t have a part to play in it, would he?

You couldn’t have one simple year at Hogwarts, could you? Not that you blamed your brother but ever since he had come along in his first year, things have been going wrong left, right and center. First, your boyfriend Cedric had been chosen as the Hogwarts champion, which he didn’t even tell you that he had entered. You were mad about that, but then when it came to the interviews and Rita Skeeter poking around, you had enough of it. Even his friends were coming along and asking questions about your personal life, since he was the only one of the FOUR champions to have a partner. This ended up in you breaking up with him, because he didn’t see the big deal about all of the intrusive questions. It was mutual, eventually, but you had to wear him down in order for him to see that it would be better if you spent some time apart.

And then Harry, sweet little Harry Potter who couldn’t catch a break, was chosen to be the Fourth Champion, which was entirely unheard of. You had charged into the room where the champions were and you gave Dumbledore a mouthful of words, as well as the Minister of Magic, but the rules were the rules and he had to compete. You tried throwing back that the rules had stated that it was only for Seventh Years, and that there was only to be one champion per school, but they claimed that their hands were tied. After that, you took Harry’s hand and pulled him out of there so the two of you could talk alone.

You were devastated. Especially in the coming days when it became apparent that a lot of people, including his best friend, thought that he had put his name in the Goblet of Fire. It was completely far away from Harry’s personality, and you vowed to help him through everything, studying your ass off on his tasks on top of your school work. He still had Hermione, though, and that was a relief. You were more worried about him than you had been about Cedric, whom you were convinced would do absolutely fine in the Tournament, and probably didn’t need your assistance.

-

You were sitting by the lake one day, doing your extra-curriculars. You took just the necessary classes this year, having dropped Divination and Arithmancy so you wouldn’t have to study as hard. But you were doing studies of your own, particularly in Russian. You wanted a job in which you got to travel the world, so you decided that taking languages, a course only done through talking books, was a good way to go. You were fluent in French, and learned more about pronunciation through the Beauxbatons students, but you didn’t know much Russian, so you decided to take that up so you could communicate with Durmstrang as well.

You were coming along pretty well, though your pronunciation needed some work. You were practicing in the weak sunlight of the Scottish Autumn, muttering to yourself. “Ya chuvstvuyu-” You started to pronounce, then realized it didn’t sound right, so you tried again. “Ya chuvstvuya,” You put more emphasis in, “-tvoyu lyubov segodnya.”

“Ochen khorosho!” The book praised back to you. You smiled, the romantic phases being something that you wanted to master. Okay, so maybe you weren’t entirely over the break-up with Cedric. It wasn’t him in particular, it was just having someone to care about, someone to care about you that you missed.

“Who var you talking to?” A puzzled voice said. You looked up from the speaking book to see that there was a student in front of you. You were so into your book that you hadn’t even noticed anyone approaching. The sun was behind him, casting his face in shadow, though the robes showed Durmstrang.

“Myself,” You said, then held up the book to show what you were doing. “Practicing Russian. I’m on the chapter of romantic phrases.”

The student looked delighted, and much to your surprise, he sat down with you, looking over the pages. It was only as he leaned over to take a closer look, his finger running across some of the words, which made the book giggle aloud, that you realized exactly who it was. You turned red at this realization - because it was nonother than celebrity champion Viktor Krum, who you had just seen at the World Cup. You remembered the way that Cedric had gushed over how good of a seeker he was, and how amazing his flying techniques were.

“This one good-” He said, pointing to a certain phrase and then said it out loud. You read along with it, your eyes following his finger, but he added more to the sentence, words that you weren’t sure of.

“What does that mean?” You asked, realizing that you were still as red as a rose at his close proximity. You tried to tell yourself to act natural, pretend that it wasn’t a celebrity - a very handsome celebrity - that was this close to you, but you found it impossible. It wasn’t everyday that someone came into your space like this. The last person had been Cedric, but the two of you didn’t spend any time together since the break up. Just nods in the hallways, and awkward grins if you had a class together. You haven’t tried to date anyone else since, though Rita kept coming up with stories about you cheating on him with other boys. You hoped she wasn’t snooping around now with that damn quill of hers.

“You var my paradise,” He said, in his heavily accented English. That part was in the book. “-My...” He looked around, as if having trouble with translation. He pointed up at the sky, and then did little flapping motions with his hands. When you gave him a puzzled look, he put his hands above his head, his index and thumbs together to make a circle.

“Heaven?” You asked. He shook his head so you took another guess after piecing it together. “Heaven?" He nodded, with a smile and then continued to look around. He then pointed straight towards the sun, which was hiding behind clouds. “Sun?” You guessed once more. He nodded again.

“You var my paradise - my heaven - my sun.” He said, looking quite proud of himself. And he was saying it while he was looking right at you, which just made you feel all the warmer. You hadn’t really given anyone attention since Cedric, and since most of Hogwarts thought you two were the dream couple, no one else had tried to hit on you. But here was Viktor Krum, reciting such lovely things for you in a language that you were only beginning to understand.

“Beautiful,” You muttered in his mother tongue, and he beamed as he recognized the word. Until it was no longer light enough to study, and you had to conjure up a light and keep it in a jar - thank you Hermione for that idea - in order to see anything, he helped you along with your studies. And yet, you never seemed to get past the chapter of romance. He introduced you to new phrases, and would practice with you until you had the pronunciation down perfectly. The book had been quiet for a while, having no critiques for you, you were doing so well. “Thank you so much - you taught me a lot,” You said, getting onto your feet.

“You’re velcome,” He said, bowing his head respectfully, jumping up effortlessly. You scrambled to put your book into your bag, and he helped you, holding your bag open for you. “Maybe you can help me,” He suggested. You tilted your head, questioning what this man could ever want help with. The first task had gone swimmingly for him, he was a Quidditch star, he was handsome to boot. “With een-glish.”

“Oh, of course!” You said with a grin. “I would love to help. Why don’t you meet me in the library on Saturday?”

-

Four different boys asked you to the Yule Ball, and you had said yes to only one of them - sort of. Unfortunately for Harry, it wasn’t his best friend Ron who just seemed desperate to go with anyone. When you told the two boys that you already had a date, your brother kept questioning who it was. He seemed to have a theory that you were back with Cedric, which couldn’t be further from the case. You just left them guessing, looking forward to seeing their faces when you appeared.

Thanks to the small fortune that your parents had left for you and Harry, you were able to afford a stunning dress. And with some small alterations, you could probably make it last forever. It was your favorite color, floor length with see-through sleeves and a pinched waist to really bring out your body shape.

That, along with your confident smile and you were ready to go.

Your date wasn’t in your house, in fact he wasn’t even from this school. You flushed as you remembered exactly what Viktor had done in order to ask you, and you had to applaud his trickiness. He had written out ‘Will you go to the ball with me’ in Russian, and asked you to translate it. You had done so, thinking that perhaps he wanted to ask out one of the many Hogwarts girls who had fawned after him throughout the hallways, but instead of repeating it back to you, he had said ‘Love to.’ It took you a minute to realize what he had done, and you couldn’t stop laughing once you had it figured out. You agreed with that, and your date was set.

You were going to the Yule Ball with a champion. That was what worried you the most. The attention that you were going to get since you and Viktor had to participate in a dance in front of the student body. He hadn’t had the time to practice, since his own Headmaster was keeping him busy with studying for the tasks, but you did have another willing partner. Your brother Harry. It was easiest with him since he had to do the same dance at the same time.

As you walked down the stairs with a couple of other girls who were meeting their dates, you were nervous to see if all of that practicing had paid off. You caught your brother’s eye as he went down the stairs and gave him a confident wink. He had asked out one of the Patil twins, you had heard, and you were very much looking forward to teasing him about it after all was said and done. Your date wasn’t at the bottom of the stairs in the herd like many of the other males, but further back, trying not to bring attention to himself. He stepped forward when you reached the foot of the staircase, maneuvering expertly through the people in his red suit, and held his hand out to you. You took hold of it, making many in the crowd gasp.

“Krum?” You heard your brother and his best friend say in unison.

You gave a teasing little wave to them as you were lead into the Great Hall, which had been transformed into a beautiful ballroom for the occasion. It looked like a winter wonderland in here, and it took your breath away. You were given a grand entrance, where Viktor, Fleur and Harry were also introduced, before taking part in the dance. You couldn’t help but notice that you were also getting looks from Cedric, who was here with Cho Chang, a pretty Ravenclaw.

You ignored all of those looks, focusing on Viktor, and Viktor alone. He remained the stiff, very concentrated man that you had gotten to know through your studies, though once in a while, when no one was looking, he smiled. The dance went off without a hitch, which was amazing considering he had to lift you. That’s the part that you were nervous about, but his strong arms managed to do the task and you felt safe throughout. You did feel a little better once both feet were on the ground.

Once the dance was over, and the band began playing something less traditional and upbeat, you were able to blend more into the crowd. “I get us drinks,” Viktor winked, giving you a thumbs up as he departed from your side for the first time of the night. You felt even more flushed by the wink than you did by the dance, so you leaned back against one of the columns and took a glance to see who had brought whom.

You smiled as you watched Harry and Ron sitting, refusing to dance with their dates. An older Gryffindor had asked Hermione, and the two of them were out on the dance floor. For the first time, it seemed like the school was entirely at peace. Houses with other houses and schools with other schools. You couldn’t help smiling as Hagrid danced with Madame Maxime. Even Dumbledore had a turn on the dance floor.

“May I have a dance?” A familiar voice said from next to you. You turned to look into those honey colored eyes that had made you swoon the year before, but now - now you just felt nothing. And it was great to just feel nothing.

“I don’t think so,” You said, smiling through your rejection. “Viktor will be back any minute with some drinks. I’m absolutely parched.”

“He wouldn’t let you dance with an old friend?” Cedric asked, raising an eyebrow. You saw through what he was doing, unfortunately. Playing the nice guy. You realized that him seeing you with Viktor must really have gotten under his skin.

“I’m sure he would,” You said, demurely. This was like something right out of a book for teenagers. A love triangle - but you weren’t going to let it be that way. That required feelings for the third person, and you no longer had that. Still, you felt like some sort of Queen with all of the attention that you were getting. “But I honestly just want to save every dance for him. He’s a wonderful dancer, must come with being a professional athlete. Did you see him out there?”

“I did,” Cedric conceded. “And I saw how happy you were - so I’m happy for you, y/n.”

“I’d hope so,” You said, spotting Viktor coming forward. You excused yourself from Cedric, and went to meet him, taking the glass of punch from his hands. You noticed that for the first time in the night, he wasn’t looking at you, but was scowling over at Cedric. You had told him about your past with Cedric, and about your brother being Harry. It hadn’t worried him at all that you were close with two of the other contestants, or at least it hadn’t until now. “Thank you,” You said, laying your hand upon his arm as you took a sip from the glass goblet.

“Vhat did he vant?” Viktor asked, pointing his chin towards Cedric, who was still standing by the column, looking at you solemnly. You shook your head as the ugly beast called jealousy made an appearance.

“He wanted to tell me that he’s happy for me, that I’m here with you,” You said, smiling, since it was a truth, though maybe not the whole truth. “And I must say, I share the feeling.”

The stoic look remained on Viktor’s face for a moment more. You didn’t like it. This was supposed to be a happy occasion. You leaned in and pressed a kiss onto his stubbled cheek, and grew excited as it seemed to light up. He was finally smiling once again, and you both turned so your backs were towards your ex. “Vant to dance?” He asked, draining his own cup.

“With you?” You said, leaning in so you could rest his head on his broad shoulder. “All night long.”