#him. I think his relationship with him already informs you of a huge chunk of who he is as a person. What he is what he values etc.

[everymadara]

Chapter 625

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

Someone asked me to expand a little on a topic that was buried down in a big chain of reblogs, so I'm doing that here--it's about the use of the archaic "thee", "thou", "thy", etc. in LOTR and what it tells you about characters’ feelings for one another. (I am NOT an expert on this, so it's just what I've picked up over time!)

Like many (most?) modern English speakers, I grew up thinking of those old forms of 2nd person address as being extra formal. I think that's because my main exposure to them was in the Bible ("thou shall not...") and why wouldn't god, speaking as the ultimate authority, be using the most formal, official voice? But it turns out that for a huge chunk of the history of the English language, "thee," "thou," and "thy" were actually the informal/casual alternatives to the formal "you", “your”, “yours”. Like tú v. usted in Spanish!

With that in mind, Tolkien was very intentional about when he peppered in a "thee" or a "thou" in his dialogue. It only happens a handful of times. Most of those are when a jerk is trying to make clear that someone else is beneath them by treating them informally. Denethor "thou"s Gandalf when he’s pissed at him. The Witch King calls Éowyn "thee" to cut her down verbally before he cuts her down physically. And the Mouth of Sauron calls Aragorn and Gandalf "thou" as a way to show them that he has the upper hand. (Big oops by all 3 of these guys!)

The other times are the opposite--it's when someone starts to use the informal/casual form as a way to show their feeling of affection for someone else. Galadriel goes with the formal "you" all through the company's days in Lórien, but by the time they leave she has really taken them to heart. So when she sends them a message via Gandalf early in the Two Towers, she uses "thee" and "thou" in her words to Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli because now they're valued friends and allies. And--this is the big one, folks, that was already alluded to in my previous post--Éowyn starts aggressively "thou"ing Aragorn when she is begging him to take her along as he prepares to ride out of Dunharrow. She is very intentionally trying to communicate her feelings to him in her choice of pronoun--an "I wouldn't be calling you "thee" if I didn't love you" kind of thing. And he is just as intentionally using "you" in every single one of his responses in order to gently establish a boundary with her without having to state outright that he doesn't reciprocate her feelings. It's not until much later when her engagement to Faramir is announced that Aragorn finally busts out "I have wished thee joy ever since I first saw thee". Because now it is safe to acknowledge a relationship of closeness and familiarity with her without the risk that it will be misinterpreted. He absolutely wants to have that close, familiar relationship, but he saved it for when he knew she could accept it on his terms without getting hurt.

So, you know, like all things language-based...Tolkien made very purposeful decisions in his word choices down to a bonkers level of detail. I didn’t know about this pronoun thing until I was a whole ass adult, but that’s the joy of dealing with Tolkien. I still discover new things like this almost every time I re-read.

[ddodol]

maid for u — l.sh

series ⭑.ᐟ [ kinktober masterlist ] content warning ⭑.ᐟ smut! minors dni!, situationship!sohee, fem!reader, pet names, sohee is horny and flustered, mentions of reader in a maid outfit, discreet public affairs, oral (m.). word count⭑.ᐟ 2.1k+

sohee, like the supportive friend he always was, wanted to see what all the hype was with your new part time job. seeing you in a maid outfit while serving customers was the last thing he had in mind.

”oh, sohee!” you smiled widely, happy to see a familiar face. sohee stood awkwardly by the entrance, staring back at you with wide eyes as he tried his best not to let his eyes wander. you had a smug smile on your face, satisfied with sohee’s flustered reaction.

you wore a cute maid outfit, dress all frilled and puffy. you had knee socks and a garterbelt on, digging against your plush thighs. sohee knew he had to keep his eyes away but he wanted to keep looking at you for longer.

it was almost closing hours and most of the customers were leaving, that also meant you had time to spare for sohee. you dragged him to a seat by the corner, smiling as you handed him the menu. “y/n, i think you left out a huge chunk of information when you told me to come visit you at work.” you laughed at the cute blush he had on his face.

your relationship with sohee was a bit complicated, teetering between friendship and something more special. your little situationship was confusing but you didn’t find it unsettling because sohee never entertained other women, and you did the same.

one thing you liked the most about him was how adorable he looked whenever he was flustered and so teasing him easily became your favorite, especially since he just lets you do it. sohee does return the favor but he tends to go overboard, resulting in a never ending back-and-forth battle between you two.

”you’re not trying to get back at me for last week, right?” he glanced at you, still unable to maintain proper eye contact. you giggled, noticing how red his ears had gotten. last week, sohee casually kissed you on his couch. well, kiss is an understatement— you made out on his couch, with his roommates right outside his unlocked room and with paper thin walls.

despite how needy you were, sohee didn’t do anything more, whispering about how he wanted to wait it out until his roommates left. you did notice the slight curl in his lips as he said that, getting the hint that he was messing with you. much to your disbelief, his roommates never left and you just sat there, forced to sit through the uncontrollable tingling in between your legs.

inviting him to your workplace wasn’t really meant to be your revenge, you already had something bigger planned but his cute reaction made you want to tease him for real.

“what do you mean? i decided to shrug it off as a mistake.” sohee stared at you with a frown on his face, that was when you knew you finally struck a nerve.

”y/n, that was not a mistake.”

you shake your head, pouting slightly, “that’s what it looked like to me.”

sohee was visibly getting more upset, putting the menu you gave him down the table. he looked around cautiously, the location you two were in was very hidden, conveniently so.

sohee hastily pulled you on his lap, taking you by surprise. this wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all. you were supposed to be getting on his lap slowly, teasing him back for leaving you unsatisfied a week ago.

”should i show you how serious i am, y/n?” you blinked, still in shock at the proximity and sudden confidence he was exuding. “how many times should i tell you that you’re all i ever want, y/n?” he whispered softly, hot breath fanning over your exposed skin.

you quickly pulled yourself together, hands running up and down his chest. “then can i get that apology right now?” you asked in a hushed tone, cheeks flushing up in spite of your confident words.

sohee grinned widely, pulling you even closer, “what a spoiled little maid.” he pressed your hips down, grinding up against your heat as he captured your lips in a passionate kiss. you moaned softly, hips moving fluidly against his growing erection.

sohee moaned softly against your mouth, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, whispering praises and words of affection. you felt shivers down your spine with the way he desperately mumbled your name on his swollen lips, growing needier by the second.

”touch me, sohee,” you moaned, gripping tightly on his shirt. sohee let out a soft groan, hands roaming down your hips, slowly finding their way up your frilly skirt. your breath hitched with every touch, eyes silently pleading for more

”i know this is gonna sound like an excuse but we’re still in public,” sohee whispered, chuckling at your crestfallen expression. “didn’t mean to bring down the mood, baby. my bad,” he kissed your cheek, smiling softly as he drew small circles on your thighs.

you frowned at him, standing up briefly to look around— you knew none of your coworkers cared enough to inspect every single corner of this cafe, deciding to take full advantage of it. sohee watched you carefully, confusion etched on his adorable face.

you had a mischievous smile on your lips, leaning in to whisper against sohee’s ear, “whatever you do, don’t make a noise.”

sohee shuddered, freezing in place as he watched you sink down in between his legs. you looked cozy underneath the circular table, sitting on your legs as you stared up at him. the frilly tablecloth barely hid you, just long enough to keep your sinful affairs away from prying eyes.

”y/n,” sohee’s voice trembled, eyes going wide in anticipation. your face inches away from his raging erection, groaning at how uncomfortable it’s gotten. you caught on quickly, pulling his pants down to reveal his cock. sohee was throbbing against your hand, tip looking painfully red as precum began seeping out of it.

you breathed softly, eyes flicking up to look at sohee. he gave you a small nod, trembling hand finding its way to the back of your neck. sohee let out a moan, face contorting as he felt your hot breath hitting his sensitive cock. he clenched his jaw, throwing his head back before he kept his eyes on you, following every movement.

”take it,” his voice was a low whisper, sending pleasurable shivers throughout your body. ”take it like a good girl, y/n.”

a soft whimper left your lips, glancing down at his cock as you pressed small kisses all over it. you looked up at sohee, teasingly licking up his shaft. he was focused on you, breathing shakily as he anticipated your next move. as much as sohee thought it was cute having you leave your red lipstick all over his cock, he wanted more— needed more.

”the longer you take your time, the more difficult it’ll be for you later.”

you bit your lip you knew his words were meant to be a warning but it sounded like an unspoken promise that you’d have a fun time later. sohee could see the familiar glint in your eyes, immediately figuring out that a ‘difficult time’ was exactly what you wanted.

sohee chuckled, gripping on your cheeks as he pressed your face against his cock, precum messily getting all over your flushed face. “maybe you could get that now, hm?” he hummed, whispering quietly.

all you could focus on was sohee’s voice and his throbbing length right in front of you, sticking your tongue out slightly as he rubbed your lips over his leaking tip. sohee hissed, an amused expression on his face as more of your lipstick smudged on his cock. he loved seeing the marks you left on him, letting his mind wander to how messy you were willing to get all for him.

”open,” he spoke in a stern tone, thumb pulling on your plump lower lip. sohee’s lips curled into a smile when you parted your lips open without any hesitation, willingly taking him inside your warm mouth. he let out a soft groan, pretty face all scrunched up at the sight of his length disappearing inside your small mouth ever so slowly.

”fuck, you look so pretty like this, baby,” he shuddered, breathing shakily when you began to bob your head up and down. sohee was blind to his surroundings, pouring all of his attention on you and your pretty state, his precum dripping down the corners of your lips and glistening against the very minimal light underneath the table you were at.

sohee attempted to wipe the mess on your chin, getting too distracted— the next thing he knew, his thumb had slipped in your mouth, stretching your poor mouth even more. he chuckled softly, bucking his hips slowly as he licked his lips.

you could tell sohee was enjoying your touch, cock throbbing against your tongue as you swirled it around his sensitive tip. you could hear how heavy his breathing had gotten, chest heaving as he held your face up. sohee let his other hand wander, breath hitching in his throat when you held his hand and guided it toward the buttons of your dress.

he didn’t hesitate to unbutton them, chewing on his bottom lip as he waited for a small glimpse of your skin. you pulled away with a soft pop, smiling deviously as you pushed your clothes low enough to flash your cleavage.

sohee couldn’t take his eyes off of you, the flash of skin drove him crazier. he wanted you right then and there, to just run his hands over your figure while undressing you slowly, but he had to settle with whatever situation you two were in, forced to find satisfaction in the quick relief you were giving him.

”baby,” he whispered sweetly, thumb tugging on the corner of your lips, “can you take it all for me?” sohee felt a rush of embarrassment once he realized how desperate he sounded but he couldn’t care any less about that; you’ve already gone this far, he might as well make the most out of it.

you smiled, nodding as you held his twitching cock in your hands. you pumped his length gently before taking him in your mouth. you glanced at him through hooded eyes, focusing your mouth on his tip. seemingly unsatisfied, sohee began to push your head on his cock a bit too roughly. it took you by surprise, letting out a soft whimper when you felt him reach the back of your throat.

he moved your head according to his needs, moaning softly with his brows furrowed. you pressed your thighs together, moving more eagerly. sohee groaned, “y/n, i’m so close.”

you stared up at him, wincing slightly at the bitter taste you were beginning to taste in your mouth. nonetheless, you bobbed your head up and down, sucking and swirling your tongue in an effort to speed up his orgasm so you could have your share finally.

sohee threw his head back, face fully flushed and body tensed up as he came. the bitter taste in your mouth began to spread, accompanied by an icky warmth down your throat. you pulled away, a string of saliva and cum connecting your lips to his messy tip. you gripped his cock tightly, watching as his cum continued to pool around his tip.

you quickly buttoned your clothes, sneaking up from the table without rousing suspicion. sohee had hearts in his eyes, chest heaving as his skin glowed under the cafe’s warm lights. you chuckled softly, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips. you noticed his brief hesitation, smiling when he returned the kiss after a while.

”that’s not a good taste,” he mumbled against your lips, seemingly embarrassed.

you laughed softly, straddling him once again, “i know something that tastes better than that.” sohee raised a brow, intrigued by your offer. he had a faint idea, letting his eyes roam around your disheveled maid uniform, focusing more on the frilly ends of your dress. sohee couldn’t wait to see what was underneath, hands slowly running up your thighs that it made your breath hitch in your throat.

”is that part of the special menu?” sohee asked in an amused tone, staring up at you with a playful look. you giggled, cocking your head to the side.

”will you tip me generously if i said yes?”

sohee captured his bottom lip, biting on it hard as he let his mind wander. he couldn’t wait, not with the way you were acting.

”let’s continue where we left off at my place. i promise i won’t stop even if you cry and beg or even if my roommates come inside,” he took your hand up his lips, pressing gentle kisses down to your wrist. sohee bit your pulse point gently, smiling against your skin when you leaned closer to him.

the shy look on his face returned, glancing up at you hesitantly, ”and can we keep this maid outfit on?”

you let out a small laugh, nodding in agreement. “anything that could get me in your bed tonight, sohee.”

[whaleofatjme1920]

hi, we just recently discovered your blog and we're in love with your work!

if you're comfortable with it, can we please have tim, jay, and brian from marble hornets with an s/o who has DID (dissociative identity disorder)? thanks in advance :)

- gemini anon <3

Tim, Jay, and Brian with an SO that has DID

[GN!Reader]

[Warnings: Like, none?]

[AN: So, few notes: the information I'm talking about is directly based off of criteria from the DSM-5, as it is the source I am most familiar with. While I am a third year psychology student, I DO NOT know everything and am constantly still learning. This is simply to the best of my abilities, and more so focuses on the perception these characters have towards the Reader, and not really me going into depth with DID. Because of this, the headcanons are being kept short. I will not go into depth on alters themselves and ask for future reference no more DID related asks come through that expand off of this idea/ask.

Also, I saw your ask roll in on the 24th - will add your name if it isn't there already lol. Also also, thank you so so much! <3

If there's anything here that needs to get changed, or if anyone wishes to talk to me about this specific ask, please don't hesitate.]

Tim

I don't think he inherently gets it. If we're talking about Tim-Tim, he really doesn't get it? Might say some insensitive things in his quest for learning, but ultimately he goes hard for you because he loves you. He's got his own stuff to worry about, just wants to make sure you're doing alright in the long run. When it comes to switches themselves, if you're losing huge chunks of time, he's going to be really, really worried. He's already got some issues with his memory, but he always manages to help keep yours in check and in tact. Also, if one alter is fronting and that's the one he gets into a relationship with, he won't,, just start dating another alter. He can't quite explain why, but says it's cheating even if you share a body. He's still a bit confused on the whole thing, just tell him how to help you and he'll act accordingly.

Jay

Also very, very, very confused on how to go about this. Jay is somehow both self centered and very empathetic all at once. He loves you more than anything, but at the same time, he's confused and that confusion leads to some frustration. It is NOT your fault. Sit him down and talk to him about it. At first, he wants to "fix" you, wondering why you have switches, why you disassociate, why you're going through x, y, and z. Sit him down and tell him what YOU want first and foremost. I hate to say it but I don't think Jay ever really gets used to it. He's sweet and polite, but meeting another one of your alters has him a bit shy and unsure of himself. Depending on your experience with DID, he's more worried than in other experiences. Just,,, yeah. I'm not saying he's a jerk, he's just confused. He absolutely adores you, and wants what's best for you but doesn't always know what that is.

Brian

He's the most cool with it. He probably knows what DID is/already has a general idea of what it is. Brian loves you so so much it's unreal. He takes into account the host, and the alters, but like Tim, keeps track of who he started dating. Depending on who was fronting, he won't date another alter depending on how they feel about it. He doesn't want to hurt anyone or cheat because that's not cool and he respects everyone in the system regardless of how many there are. He asks a lot of helpful questions after doing some reading of his own. He wants to make sure he can help you without you babying him, and at the same time, wants to know when to back off! His memory is pretty great? Depending on if you have dissociative amnesia and to what degree, he can help fill in blanks when he can. I just think he's the most prepared, and helps you the most when you have no spoons left. He watches for your triggers as well.

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing ix.

pairing: jeon jungkook x oc

genre: angst, smut, fluff, miscommunication (we hate her lol), pining

warnings: smut, jungkook is really an asshole, the angst hurts a lot tbh, unhealthy relationships (?)

words: 3, 844

summary: a series of drabbles where you're confused and jungkook's confusing

Jungkook recognises that it’s, to a fault, extremely unhealthy for him to pretend like his problems don’t exist and bury them under a blanket of social interactions that were meaningless to him and excessively working out at the gym so he could get his mind off things.

Granted, it was always how Jungkook dealt with things and he was a creature of habit. He was stubborn and irrational at most times, and usually pretending like his problems didn’t exist did him relatively well. Because like most things in life, problems passed and if people were his problem then he’d just not talk to them. Simple, really. Jungkook had it figured out right to the o.

Well, until he realised that a huge chunk of his problems, though irrationally, was working out right beside him.

“You almost done?” Namjoon grunts, finishing his last rep as he drops the weight to the ground as it sounds through the empty gym.

Only because Namjoon and Jungkook were the only people that were crazy enough to work out at eleven o'clock on a school night. But realistically speaking, Jungkook only asked the football group out of formalities and did not expect his own captain to have responded.

Maybe because you’re too busy hanging out with _____, came Jungkook’s bitter thought. But surprise, Namjoon was very much sweaty and engaged in the workout session that has Jungkook’s head spinning.

“Yeah.” Jungkook huffs, dropping his own weight before he dabs the hem of his tank top to his forehead to catch the bead of sweat before it drops.

Namjoon walks over to pick up his own bottle and toss Jungkook his own before he chugs the liquid in one go.

Jungkook has half the mind to be a petty motherfucker and rejects it but he was way too parched to deny the tempting object. Besides, he could pretend like Namjoon wasn’t the bulk of his many problems. Even if he knew Namjoon was unsuspecting of everything, it was easier to blame him for the fact that you weren’t keen on hanging out with him than himself.

“The circuit today was intense.” Namjoon points out, shooting a raised eyebrow expression in Jungkook’s direction. “You nearly killed me, man.” He finishes with a teasing tone.

Jungkook huffs dryly, “Maybe that’s a sign for you to work out more.”

He’s being bitter, he knows that. Because Namjoon was huge and hit the gym as frequently as Jungkook did.

Namjoon, however, is oblivious to this. “Maybe.” And Jungkook hates that he accepts it so easily.

Jungkook’s mind is all over the place and never mind that he’s burnt enough calories to last him his workout quota for the next two weeks, but he has the urge to pry. To ask Namjoon things that he no longer had the privilege to ask you anymore.

But before he can say anything, Namjoon beats him to the first word.

“You and ____ are close right?”

Jungkook pauses, fist tightening around the bottle before he clears his throat. “Um. Kind of.” Because he wasn’t sure anymore, so he settled for that instead you conveyed otherwise to Namjoon. But he knew that you wouldn’t, you weren’t petty like that. “Why do you ask?”

And Jungkook doesn’t like the way that Namjoon looks nervous. Call it his sixth sense, but he just doesn’t like the insinuation behind the way Namjoon fiddles with his fingers.

“Well, you, Jimin and Tae are, right?” Namjoon asks. “And Yena, but I already had this conversation with her anyways.”

“What conversation?” Jungkook immediately asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“I think it’s pretty obvious to most people that I’m into her.” Namjoon snorts, but Jungkook can’t find it in himself to laugh.

“Right.”

“Things have been going well and so far all the hangouts we’ve had were friendly,” Namjoon says with a small smile.

Jungkook doesn’t know what to do with the information he was receiving or why he was even receiving it in the first place. Sure, Namjoon and he were close because they were under the same football team and chemistry between players was definitely a prerequisite when it came to bagging wins.

“That’s nice to hear.” Jungkook grunts.

Namjoon nods absent-mindedly as he plops onto one of the workout benches, swinging a towel over his shoulder. “I told her that I wouldn’t rush into things with her but I really do like her. And I want to ask her out. Officially, that is.”

Jungkook quite literally freezes all his limbs when the words tumble out of Namjoon’s mouth.

“And because you’re important to her, I just wanted to know if you were okay with that? I mean—she has to be okay with it but you’re someone she cares about so your opinion does matter to a certain extent. Either way, I’m going to do it but I thought it was just courteous of me to let you know.”

And damn you for being courteous, Jungkook curses to himself mentally.

“What?” Jungkook croaks because that’s all he can manage.

He’s heard it from Jeonghan, Yugyeom and Jaehyun when it came to locker-room talk but he’s brushed it off because what did they know, right? Even if Yena was heard whispering to Jimin conspiringly, he’d pretended he hadn’t heard a single word just so he could delude himself into thinking that it wasn’t real.

But for Namjoon to directly confirm it to his face, Jungkook feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

“I don’t know, man.” Namjoon sighs, “She’s really something else, you know? I’ve been kind of admiring from afar for a really long time because someone wouldn’t introduce her to me”—he shoots a playful glare to a stone-faced Jungkook who can’t even respond—“and getting to know her personally just really solidified the fact that I really like her.”

Jungkook is a level-headed man, most of the time at least, but there were things that threw him off. Overly salty food, flash mobs, microwaves; but most of the time he was able to recover.

Most. Not all.

“No.”

Namjoon freezes, and so does Jungkook. But for two very different reasons.

“I’m sorry, did you just say no?” Namjoon asks dumbfounded.

Jungkook can’t stop his mouth. “Yeah.” He swallows. Stop talking. “No.”

Namjoon furrows his brows, “Yeah to you saying no or, yeah to literally the context of this conversation?”

Jungkook has never resented Namjoon more than right now, even when he’d made the team run extra laps as a warm-up.

“You can’t.” Jungkook deadpans. “You can’t ask her out.”

And for as long as Jungkook knew Namjoon, he knew that under the calm and collected exterior that he took most of the time because he was the captain of the football team, and diplomacy was necessary. He was petty, and to a certain extent, immature. But he did a far better job and conveying his displeasure compared to Jungkook.

“Okay, and who are you—her dad?” Namjoon scoffs.

Even if it was made explicitly clear by Namjoon that he was doing so out of respect for you, Jungkook still felt the need to defend himself.

“Her friend.” Jungkook snaps. “And you’re my captain. That’s just—weird.”

He knows his excuse is lame, and so does Namjoon.

“Really,” Namjoon says dryly. “That’s your excuse?”

“Not an excuse. Facts.” Jungkook retorts childishly.

Namjoon snorts before raising an eyebrow at Jungkook who is all but making eye contact with him.

“Does this have to do with why you weren’t keen on introducing her to me in the first place when I asked?”

Jungkook nearly drops his water bottle when he swings around, face scandalised in a way that shows that he’s been caught but attempting to deflect.

“What the fuck are you even saying.” He splutters.

Namjoon is as calm as ever, “You tell me, Jungkook. I don’t see a legitimate reason as to why I can’t ask her out.”

Jungkook scoffs, cheeks red. “I told you. It’s weird. What if you guys break up? How’s that going to be for Jimin, Tae and I?”

Namjoon blinks.

“I can be civil.” He shrugs. “The question is, can you?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes into slits as he observes Namjoon. He’s never gotten into any conflicting situations with Namjoon, purely because he never had a reason to. He never knew his captain could be so … retort-inducing, but here he was. Ready to snap back, for a very childish reason he wasn’t ready to unpack just yet.

“Look. How bout’ you think about it a little more?” Jungkook feigns disinterest when he fiddles with his gym bag as if he was looking for something. It was an escape to this conversation. “The two of you just started hanging out and she’s not the type that likes it rushed, anyways.”

“I’m not asking her to marry me, Jungkook.” Namjoon blinks.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “I know. If you were I think I’d have a stroke.” He mutters. “Thing is, there’s probably a lot of things that you don’t know about her yet so you may as well just … wait.”

His excuses are getting a lot more pathetic by the second, and Namjoon clearly feels the same because he shoots a frown at Jungkook.

“That’s the point of asking her out … to get to know her.” Namjoon drawls slowly, stating the obvious.

Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh and he wants this conversation to be over because he’s already let out more than what he’d like.

“She’s just not the type …” Jungkook lamely defends.

Namjoon purses his lips. “And that’s coming from you?”

Jungkook glares at Namjoon who doesn’t look like he’s going to back down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes. “It means—you’re not her so you have no right to be assuming shit about her. I don’t care if you’re her best friend or whatever the hell you are to her that makes you think you automatically know what she wants or doesn’t. The reason why I’m telling you all of this is purely out of respect for her, and her only. Frankly—I couldn’t give a rats ass about your opinion on this.”

Jungkook gapes at Namjoon because this is the first time he’s seen him anything less than cool and collected. But perhaps this was why he was always taken so seriously in every context he’s found himself in. Namjoon was diplomatic when he need be, and firm when necessary. This was one of those occasions and Jungkook hates that it’s him on the receiving end under the context of you being the topic of conversation.

“Well—”

“And, if you have something you want to say to her.” Namjoon sighs, throwing his gym bag over his shoulder and levelling a look so serious that it sends a shudder down Jungkook’s spine, “Be honest to her. She doesn’t deserve anything less than that.”

Right before Namjoon turns around to leave, Jungkook has to ask—

“How did you know?”

He doesn’t have to say what, because Namjoon clearly knows what he was talking about. The stiff chuckle he releases is enough to prove that.

“I’m not stupid, Jungkook.” He says. “First it was not introducing us to each other and now it’s the unwarranted possessiveness. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

Jungkook purses his lips, feeling his blood run cold because if Namjoon knew then …

“So what? You’re going to tell her?” He accuses.

Namjoon scoffs. “Jungkook, I like you. You’re a good friend of mine. I’m not going to fuck you over like that. That’s your own issue to deal with.”

“Sure doesn’t feel like it,” Jungkook mutters dryly.

Namjoon sighs, turning his body to face Jungkook as he offers him a blank expression that he can’t quite read.

“I don’t know about you but I’m not the type to conflate my personal life with my friend's personal life. Sure, we like the same girl—” Jungkook winces, but Namjoon continues anyway. “—but life goes on. I’m a big boy and so are you, right?”

Jungkook tongues the inside of his cheek when Namjoon offers a slight smirk with a raised eyebrow.

“So you’re backing off?”

The slight hopeful tone that Jungkook has is naive, and he knows that. But a selfish part of him just wished that Namjoon would so he could figure out how to solve and fix things between the two of you without the interruption of his own football captain in the mix.

Namjoon snorts, “No way. What did you take me for—a pushover?”

Jungkook gapes, “Then what—?”

“I’m still going to ask her out. Your feelings are your own and it’s not my responsibility to look after them for you.” He shrugs, turning on his heel to leave the gym. His hands are on the knob when he turns around. “She’s single. Nothing’s stopping you or me from doing anything.”

And he leaves, not before he adds: “Don’t be late for training tomorrow. We have circuit training.”

It’s been a week since you’ve last spoken to Jungkook and two weeks since he’s apologised to you at your apartment. You still remember the ghost of his lips, the heat of his hands when he held you close.

You still had moments in between where you were distracted, but there was something oddly compelling about a person you were trying to forget for the time being that haunts your every thought. And you hated yourself for it, for still wondering if he was okay or how he was doing when you were the one that put distance between the two of you.

Maybe that’s why your hand reaches out to your phone, but it’s as if God had sent you a Guardian Angel when a hand grips your wrist.

“I thought we weren’t touching our phones?” Namjoon has a teasing tilt to his voice when he murmurs the words.

You flush, meekly retracting your hand as you send him a playful glare.

“What are you? The exam invigilator?” You scowl.

Namjoon snorts before rubbing a thumb between your furrowed brows. You can’t help but flush harder, pouting at him when all he does is grin at you.

“I’m meant to be the person you’re paying attention to.” He returns, voice husky and you feel yourself grow flustered.

Obviously, because Namjoon was attractive and he told you on occasions that he’d intentionally raised the pitch of his voice because it was way too deep for people to understand.

“Grow up.” You mutter, but your tone is light when you roll your eyes at him.

You’ve grown much more comfortable with Namjoon in the recent times you’ve hung out with him, purely because there was something very welcoming about a person like him. He was understanding and calm, yet he was absolutely hilarious without even needing to try. There were moments where he’d make you laugh until you cry which resulted in the librarians shooting you glares from their desks.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He hums, definitely recognising the way you were a little out of the loop even throughout your study session.

The library is quiet during this hour because it wasn’t exam season and rarely were students willing to spend time on a school night at the library against their own will.

“Just … stuff.” You sigh.

And Namjoon frowns ever so slightly because you were always like this, tucked away in your own compartment as if you were afraid to reveal anything more.

“You can always talk to me, you know?” He whispers, eyes focusing on your face when he leans down.

You purse your lips and you nod. You knew you could, but your problems were far more complex than what you could describe in words. Besides, you knew that Namjoon had some … form of feelings to you—so how the hell were you supposed to explain the fact that you’ve allowed your best friend to touch you in a way that a lover is meant to?

“I know.” You sigh, fiddling with your fingers when you bring yourself to look up at him through your eyelashes. “It’s really complicated and I don’t want to unload onto you.”

Namjoon smiles at you so gently you feel even guiltier for feeling the way you do.

“And I’m a pretty simple guy. Say anything and I’ll take it at face value.” He jokes.

You roll your eyes at him and shove at his chest. Only then do you realise how close the two of you are. When did his face get so close to yours? Why were you only realising his breath on your cheek?

It’s late, and you’re tired from the copious amount of studying so maybe that’s why your eyes involuntarily dart to his lips that were much closer to you than you’d realised.

“Can I do something?” He murmurs, and you watch his lips move when he asks.

You find yourself blindly nodding, too caught up in the moment.

Namjoon reaches a gentle hand around your jaw, cradling it so softly as if he was afraid to hurt you. A touch you’re familiar yet new to, enough for you to remember and think of Jungkook even if it’s Namjoon in front of you.

The logical part of you tells you to push Namjoon away, to not subject him to this unfair treatment when you know your heart lays elsewhere. But you’re human and you’re selfish because you’ve never been doted on like this—never looked in a way that shows you that he wants you.

Namjoon tilts your head up so that he’s looking straight into your eyes and you’re positive your face is on fire. It feels … nice. But that’s it. You don’t feel exhilarated like you did when Jungkook held you, and you curse yourself for always comparing the two.

He leans in so slowly that you’re quite literally gripping the edge of your seat. You realise this, though.

Namjoon is strategic when he maps out the journey to your lips, both careful and calm when he brings you closer like he’s been preparing for this for a long time. What you remember, is Jungkook—a spontaneous lover who smirks against kisses and tugs you closer in a rush that makes your head spin.

The two are so different, and you’re inclined to want Namjoon too. But you’ve always been a sucker for adrenaline.

But you push those thoughts away and try to focus on the way Namjoon is treating you so tenderly.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers against your lips and you feel your response before you say it.

“Yeah.” You breathe, fingers digging into your seat.

And Namjoon looks stunning up close, suave and handsome like you always knew him to be when he closes the distance.

He presses into your lips so softly that you barely feel it at first, not until he’s tilting his head to bring you closer and his other hand cups the other side of your face.

Your face is hot because he’s the second person you’ve ever kissed and it feels … it feels. You like it. That’s what you think.

You don’t dare go further than return his kiss, and Namjoon is far too gentlemanly to prod at your lips.

Your hand instinctively reaches out to wrap them around his neck, but a voice interrupts your movements.

“______?”

Immediately, you pull away—remembering where you were and how easy it was for you to be spotted locking lips with Namjoon.

You flush, turning to the source of the voice to mumble a sheepish apology until you realise who it is—and your face pales.

Not only because is it Jungkook, who’s staring at you and Namjoon with a hardened gaze. But because of the company he has.

“Cute,” Jennie smirks, arms looped around Jungkook’s and you feel your throat clam shut.

Namjoon notices the drop in your expression that you try to hide, and he reaches out to squeeze your hand in an attempt to offer consolation. He doesn’t need to guess why.

“What are you—?”

“We were about to leave, right?” Namjoon murmurs so softly that you barely catch him. Not until you realise that Jennie has her eyebrow cocked, awaiting your response.

You blink before you turn to Namjoon who’s still looking at you so gently.

He didn’t deserve this.

“I’ll go.” You say curtly, softly taking your hand back from where he’s squeezing it as you offer an apologetic look to him. All while Jungkook is still staring at you.

“Wait, ____—” Jungkook reaches out to grab at your elbow, and you immediately pull away as if you’ve been scathed.

You knew you didn’t have a right to feel this way, not when you made it explicitly clear that you needed time away from him. But you also thought you made it clear how you felt about him and he was around her … again. It’s like a bucket of cold water that’s been washed upon you and you feel like utter shit when you see Jennie smile up at you, completely oblivious to the conflict you were having in your heart.

“I’ll walk you back.” Namjoon stands up, even as you attempt to protest. But Namjoon levels you with a firm expression that has you snapping your mouth shut and sighing to yourself, begrudgingly allowing him to stand by your side; almost towering over you and even Jungkook when he shoots him a withering glare.

“I’ll do it.” Jungkook snaps back, shaking Jennie’s arm off of him.

Before Namjoon can respond, you’re doing it for him.

“There’s no need, Jungkook.” You say softly, avoiding his eyes.

You don’t have to look at him to see the fall in his face.

“I just wanted to talk—”

“There’s nothing we can’t talk about with them here, right?” You smile stiffly at him.

Jungkook pauses, hands too as they reach for your shoulder.

“It’s not what it—”

You’re cutting him off again, tired of hearing the same thing fall from his lips, “you don’t need to say anything.”

But your heart wants to stay even if your mind knows it’s a bad idea. You’re lucky Namjoon was there because he’s tugging you aside with his arms.

“Let’s go, okay?” He whispers into your ear, soft enough so only you can hear.

You nod your head, turning to leave when you feel your heart break for the same reason again. You hate that your first instinct is the hotness behind your eyelids.

“So you’re with him?” Jungkook huffs, and you can tell he’s exasperated.

You’re about to retort, but Namjoon shakes his head—turns around to mouth something to Jungkook you can’t be bothered to see before he’s leading you out the library, leaving Jungkook and Jennie there.

Right before you step out, you hear Jennie say:

“We should do a double date.”

Namjoon hears this too and wraps an arm around your shoulder as he squeezes. He’s nice enough that he doesn’t ask why you were sniffling on the walk back to your home.

[angelmavmurdock]

Our Little Secret: Part Eight - A.R.

LAST OF THE SERIES

Word count: Summary: 5 years later...

-

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF MURDER AND SEXUAL ASSAULT (basically everything Arvin and the preacher did in the movie is touched on).

-

5 years later

"Well, y/n, your application is outstanding. We'd love for you to work here." The headteacher spoke to me from across his desk.

"Really? Wow! Thank you so much!" I beamed.

"The new school term starts in August and the kids really need a well-taught, professional, young teacher who can help them grow as children. I think you're perfect for the job."

"Thank you so much, that means a lot. I can't wait to start."

Teaching. Teaching year 1. It was my dream to work with kids and now finally after 4 years of college I could do it.

I've been living in Cincinnati since I left high school 5 years ago. I needed to get out of that town as soon as I could. Everywhere I went it would remind me of Lenora...and Arvin.

I kept in touch with Emma, though. We still chatted at least a few times a month on the phone and she told me every time how much she missed Lenora and how much she missed Arvin. Though it was easier with Lenora because she knew what had happened to her - well, not fully - but she knew that she was gone. With Arvin, she didn't know why he was gone, what he was doing or had done and if he was still even alive. I didn't tell her about what Arvin told me on our last night. I promised him I wouldn't.

But every time I called her it was like I was being set back on my journey of grief and getting over him. I was with a lovely guy called William and we've been together since my last year of college. He didn't know about Lenora or Arvin or the Russell's.

But he did come with me to my father's funeral a few months ago.

Daddy had gotten worse and worse since being in New Coal Creek. We thought he was going to get better once we got him into hospital but it didn't make a difference. And when I moved to Cincinnati, I hardly ever saw him and Ma and I's row got in between Daddy and I's relationship.

So I went to his funeral feeling like the worst daughter on the planet. And I felt as if I was losing everyone I had ever truly loved.

Will was lovely and he worked in the same position Daddy used to work at. We had a house together and we lived there comfortably. It's much like how I grew up living. A big house with no one to fill it with. We didn't even have a dog or a cat because of his allergies. We were engaged to be married and he had bought me a very expensive and big diamond ring which was nice but I had no interest in.

Of course, I accepted. But as soon as he asked me the million dollar question, the first person that popped into my head was Arvin. And then Lenora. And then Daddy.

Wedding planning was very stressful when you don't have many friends or family around to help.

And after my meeting with the headteacher I was heading into town to find my wedding dress.

I was dreading it.

Ma was coming down to help and we'd meet at the place.

I thanked the headteacher and walked out excitedly, ready to start my teaching career. I got in my car and I drove into town. The closer I got, the worse I felt. I didn't want to get a wedding dress and I didn't want to get it with Ma either.

I parked outside of the dress shop and reluctantly got out. The shop was extravagant and elegant. I dreaded going inside. But my feet took me in as my brain lusted for home.

"y/n!" Ma exclaimed, shuffling up to me, already carrying dresses in her arms.

"Ma, hi." She nearly winded me as she embraced me.

I lightly put my hands around her but she tore away quickly.

"This place is just wonderful! I've already found a few you'd look great in!"

"Ma, I'd love if I was the one who would get to pick out my own weddin' dress." I raised a brow.

She sighed, "Fine. Yes, of course. Go into the changin' rooms and I'll follow."

I rolled my eyes and walked to one of the rooms where a consultant with a pearly white smile greeted me.

"Miss y/l/n, lovely to meet you. I'm Angela and I'll be helpin' you today! Are these the dresses you'd like to try?" She chirped, referring to the dresses in my mothers arms.

I sighed, "Yes."

"Great! Come on in."

-

I stood on the podium in front of the wall-length mirror with the fourth wedding dress on. It was a column dress that fell straight down with only a slight cinch at the waist. It had long sleeves and a high neck and lace covered the bodice. It was not my style.

"You look beautiful!" Ma complimented.

"I don't like it, Ma." I shook my head, twisting and turning to look at it.

"It's your fourth dress and you haven't liked any of them."

"They're just...not my style." I sighed.

Ma rolled her eyes and stood next to me, "It's not about your style. It's about looking gorgeous on your wedding day."

I furrowed my brows, "It's my wedding dress and it's my wedding. I want to love my dress."

"Well you are not the one paying for it." She brushed over my hips.

I felt rage bubble inside of me.

"Fine. We'll take this one then." I stated with a scoff and returned to the changing room in a huff.

-

"Okay, your fitting will be next month and that's when you'll get your dress home, alright?"

"Thank you." I smiled weakly at the consultant.

"You're welcome. Have a nice day!"

We waved goodbye and began walking out the shop. I placed my white gloves on and adjusted the white hat ornamented with a flower on my curled hair. I smoothed out my white and pale blue polka-dotted dress and adjusted the sky blue belt around my waist. Ma opened the door for me and I thanked her before leaving and hearing the click of my heels on the ground.

"y/n, I won't keep you long, but...you're a woman now. You're 23, you're getting married, you live away from home, you're getting a job. You're a woman. But just because you are older, does not mean I stop being your mother. I will always be your mother whether you like it or not and you have to treat me as such." Ma said, folding her arms over her red, floral tea dress.

I took a deep breath and looked at her.

"You took away my freedom when I was a teenager and because of that, I lost time with - not only Lenora - but Arvin, too. I don't know where he is now. No one does."

Just as I was about to talk about our last night I remembered she still didn't know I snuck out.

"I lost my best friend and the love of my life in the space of weeks and you kept me locked away until there was no one left. I'll never forgive you for that." I said, my head held high.

Ma took a few seconds to process the information and then nodded.

"I'm sorry you feel that way. I had no idea. I love you, y/n. I will always love you, alright?" She held my shoulders.

I swallowed and nodded, not looking at her.

"Congratulations on your new job, honey. I'll see you soon." She leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek then turned and walked away.

I took a few deep breaths as I watched her, guilt and anger washing away gradually. Part of me didn't want to go home. I wanted to escape for a while. I didn't want to have to go back and sit alone in a huge house I didn't like and I didn't want to wait up for a phone call from Will. I wanted to be by myself. I needed to. I looked around and at my car before deciding I'd go into town for a while.

I left the car and stuffed the keys further into my handbag. I clicked down the pavement until I reached the main road of shops, leading to a lake and a park where families would walk and eat ice-cream.

It was summer, so the sun was out in full, the trees swaying in the warm breeze and the sound of a few buskers playing accompanied by the noise of town people roaming around filled the warm air.

I smiled and said good mornin' to people as I walked by, waving at a few kids and cooing at some babies. I'd never really spent much time in town. I was always working or at the house with Will. It felt good to be out and alone. I wandered around, looking in some shop windows and wishing for the dresses but deciding against it.

It wasn't until I passed a shop and briefly glanced in it that I actually stopped to look closely. I took a double take and stood in front of the window, looking up at the displayed mannequin. It was a white blouse paired with a white tennis skirt and blue ribbon tied around the neck. A fond grin grew on my face. It reminded me of high school. Though I never wore mine on my neck, I still wanted it. I never wore ribbons in my hair anymore.

I couldn't help myself but go in. I entered the seemingly quiet shop and found the nearest shop consultant.

"Hi! I love that ribbon you have on show, is it for sale?" I asked with a smile.

The woman looked almost confused, "It's a ribbon...it's for decoration?"

"Oh...well, I'd still love to buy it. Name a price." I smiled again.

She looked at me dumbfounded for a moment but then shook it off and walked to the mannequin. She untied the silk and walked back over with it, placing it into my hands.

"It's free." She smiled.

"Thank you so much. I love it." I grinned.

"Have a nice day, now."

"I will." I beamed, walking out the store.

I felt giddy with nostalgia and excitement as I pulled my hair back under my hat and tied it with the ribbon, giving it a delicate bow. I checked it in my compact mirror and smiled with joy. I felt closer to myself.

I continued walking down the road and then to the lake. I stood and leaned against the railing, watching the elegant swans float by, their white feathers contrasting beautifully against the dark blue of the water. I watched them for a while, probably for about 10 minutes before I felt a light tug on my dress.

I got a fright and looked down where a young girl was standing next to me. I immediately smiled with relief and stood back.

"Hello," I waved.

"You're very beautiful, ma'am." She complimented in a strong southern accent.

"Why thank you, Mrs." I grinned.

"Would you like some bread to feed the swans?" She offered, holding up a chunk of bread.

"I would love some. Thank you." I graciously accepted the bread, holding it in my gloved hands.

The girls' mother called her back. She looked up at me and waved.

"Bye!" She said, before running off to her mum.

I smiled and laughed a little before turning back to the swans. I broke a piece of bread off and threw it in the water. I threw some more pieces in and watched as they all swam to the food, fighting over who got what.

Once I was out of bread, I sighed, leaning against the railing by my forearms. I took in my surroundings. I looked to my left where children were playing with each other as parents stood or sat on benches, resting. A few elderly couples walked by, hand in hand, arm in arm, chatting about everything and nothing.

A girl on a pink bike caught my eye. She was gorgeous and sat atop the seat with joy and pride as she rode by. My eyes followed her as she rode behind me and kept going.

But my eyes shifted focus when she rode by someone.

Someone who looked eerily familiar.

He had brown, woven, checkered trousers on and a white dress shirt with sleeves that were rolled up to his elbows. Brown suspenders hung over his shoulders and a white vest peeked out from the unbuttoned shirt.

But the dark eyes with the brown, slicked back hair and the cigarette in his mouth gave him away.

He was already looking at me, however. Like he had been for hours. I turned slightly, feeling my heart beat rise as he threw his cigarette on the ground.

It can't be him. It's just a lookalike. It's because I've been thinking about him today. It's not him. He's not here.

He walked closer to me but stopped about 2 metres away, hands in pockets with his chest rising and falling as rapidly as mine.

I could feel my chest heave against my dress as I stared at him, trying to decipher if that was truly him or if I was just dreaming.

"y/n?" He finally said, unsure of whether I was who he thought I was.

"A-Arvin?" I whispered.

A smile began to grow on his face and I knew it was him. It was him. Arvin.

I dropped my handbag and ran towards him, throwing my arms around his neck a our bodies collided, nearly setting us back.

His arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me up, making my legs pop up. He still smelled the same and he still felt the same. He felt like home.

"I can't believe you're here." I whispered, feeling a tear fall down my face.

He placed me back on my feet and I looked at him, cupping his face with my hands. He held them, stroking my thumbs with a smile.

"Why are you here?" He asked softly.

"I-I live here. I have since...since high school." I gulped.

He raised his brows, "I've been here for four years, y/n."

My mouth dropped open, "What?!"

He grinned, his hands squeezing mine, "We've both been livin' here for four years but not ran into each other."

I stuttered, "Wh-what? How is that- oh my gosh." I laughed, bringing my hands away from his face.

"I can't believe you're here, Arvin." I gulped, my chin quivering slightly.

"I didn't think I'd ever see you again." I bit my lip, trying to stop myself from crying in public.

"Hey, shh." He brought me into him, cradling my head against his chest.

"We're here. I'm here." He said softly.

-

We decided to walk around the park to catch up which seemed both amazing but alien at the same time. We were still us but we had changed so much.

"Still wearin' ribbons I see." He grinned.

I laughed, "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not. I always loved them." He smiled.

I blushed and looked to the ground.

"So, why Cincinnati?" Arvin asked.

I sighed, "I couldn't live there anymore after school." I gulped.

"It was just too hard. And I got accepted into college here so I decided to move."

"You'll be finished school now, right?" Arvin queried.

"Yeah. I just finished and I actually just got a job today, so." I smiled.

"That's amazin'. I'm happy for you." He grinned.

"Thank you..."

We walked in silence for a little longer than I would have hoped. But he broke it again.

"Why're you in town today, then? Considering I spend every day here and I've never seen you leads me to believe you don't come here often." He chuckled.

I nodded, "Yeah, I never get the chance too. But I was uh...I was actually in town for a dress fitting." I coughed, looking down at the floor.

"Goin' somewhere nice?" He asked.

I scoffed a laugh and looked up at him, "My wedding."

He stared at me in surprise, eyes wide and mouth open, soaking in the information.

"Y-you're engaged?" He croaked.

I nodded, removing my left glove to show the sturdy ring that sat on my finger.

"W-wow. I mean...he must be rich if you got a ring like that." He swallowed, looking down at his shoes.

"I mean...yeah, I guess." I shrugged awkwardly, putting the glove back on.

"How long have you been-"

"Uh, since last year. We met in college. He was doin' finance and Daddy actually put in a good word for him and he got his old job."

"He got your daddy's old job?" Arvin repeated.

"Yeah...yeah once uh...once he passed, they needed someone to fill his shoes so." I gulped.

Arvin stopped, "Your Dad passed? When?"

I chewed the inside of my lip, "Earlier this year."

"y/n, I am so, so sorry." He placed a hand on my arm.

"No, don't be silly. It's fine. He just never got well after he took a turn in Coal Creek." I said, beginning to walk again.

"I remember how sick he was..."

My chest fluttered. It was as if our past was an alternate universe. Like we never really lived it. It was just a different version of ourselves that did. Because now, we were here and it didn't feel the same. Not completely.

"So...should I ask how you ended up here?" I asked cautiously.

He tilted his head from side to side as if trying to figure an answer out himself.

"I don't think you'd like the details." He stated, reaching into his pocket for another cigarette.

"Did you..." I stopped, looking around us before lowering my voice.

"Did you do what you implied you would?" I asked, looking into his seemingly innocent eyes.

He inhaled some smoke and then exhaled, turning away for my sake.

"I did what I implied." He stated simply.

My stomach turned. I kept chewing my lip with nervousness, looking into his eyes. He didn't seem like a killer. He wasn't a bad person. I knew him. I knew who he was. And a murderer was not in his description.

I wanted to know about it. About him. I needed to know. So, impulsively - a word I hadn't used since our last night in Coal Creek - I invited him back with me.

"Would you come home with me? I live 15 minutes out of town and I'd really like to talk but I don't think a public park is appropriate." I said in a hushed tone.

He thought about it before nodding, "Sure."

-

The drive to my house was a little awkward. The radio played at a low hum while we sat in near silence, only the sound of the wind and other cars passing by filling the air.

"Used to be me drivin' you everywhere." Arvin commented with a chuckle.

I smiled, "Oh, how the tables have turned."

He laughed and so did I, then we resumed our mutual silence.

When we got to Will and I's estate, I drove through the gates of the house to the driveway where at the top, a large house sat - much like the one in Coal Creek.

"Our drivin' might've changed but this certainly hasn't." Arvin sighed, almost as if he was disappointed.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked with a raised brow.

He shrugged, "Feels all too familiar, that's all." He said before getting out the car.

I screwed my face up at his comment but decided to let it slide. I got out of the car and locked it before following Arvin who seemed as if he knew the place, up the steps of the porch.

"Is your fiancé home?" He asked the ground, hands in pockets.

I shook my head, "He's out of town for a weekend with work."

I stuck the key into the lock of the wide, white front door and opened it. I walked inside then held it open for Arvin.

He walked in and looked around, taking in his new surroundings.

The hallway was wide and white, only paintings filling the wall space and a large staircase to the left winded up to the next floor.

"Wow...I mean, you've done well for yourself." Arvin scoffed a laugh.

"Thank you." I smiled weakly, taking my hat from my head.

He looked up at the high ceilings, appreciating the chandelier that hung above the doorway.

"Come on through. Do you want tea? Coffee?" I offered, walking down the hallway and into the open kitchen/living room area while taking my gloves off.

He walked in behind me, looking around the new room he was in before following me into the kitchen.

"How about a scotch?" He asked with a smirk.

I smiled, "That'd be appropriate, I think."

I got the crystal decanter and two glasses from the tray that sat atop the kitchen table. I poured us two glasses and then handed Arvin one. I brought the decanter with us as we migrated to the couch.

I slipped my heels off before sitting down, my dress puffing and fanning out over my lap. Arvin sat opposite me, his ankle resting on his knee comfortably.

"So..." I started.

"So." He repeated.

"I think I might have more questions about you than you do about me." I smiled weakly.

He nodded, "Probably right."

I took a deep breath before asking any questions.

"Who got Lenora pregnant?" I asked.

I thought that would be a good starting point. It was what started everything.

"Reverend Teagardin. The new preacher that came to town." Arvin answered.

My eyes widened, "What?!"

"He took Lenora - and other girls - into the woods," Arvin began to explain.

He stared at the crystal in his hands and the liquid floating inside of it. He didn't once look up at me.

"He'd make them pray before they got started and he'd take advantage of them."

"Didn't he have-"

"A wife? Yeah. But he was abusin' her at home, too." He gulped.

"Oh my god. That's horrible." I sighed, my stomach feeling uneasy.

He finally looked up at me and I could feel his curiosity burn into me.

"Do you...do you still talk to Grandma?" He asked, his voice slightly shaky.

I smiled and nodded, "Yeah. I talked to her last week."

A slight smile grew on his face with relief, "How is she?"

"She's okay. She always talks about you and Lenora. Mostly you now, though. I mean, I never told her a thing about our last night and she still doesn't know about Lenora's pregnancy. She knows just as much as when you left."

He licked his teeth and nodded, "Thanks for keepin' in touch."

"Of course. I said I would, didn't I?" I grinned.

He nodded with a smile.

"So how about you? Livin' here in this big house with a big-shot fiance. Must be nice." He quirked his brow, taking a sip of his drink.

He was trying to pry something out of me, I could feel it.

"It's good. He takes care of me and we're happy." I stated.

"It's not boring?"

"No." I lied.

He tilted his head, "I can tell when you're lyin', y/n."

I scoffed, "You haven't seen me in five years and you think you can just come back here and tell me you know me so well? Don't start with that bullshit, Arvin."

He furrowed his brows, "Are you mad at me? What did I do?"

I rolled my eyes, "You don't know me, Arvin. So don't act like you do."

I sat my glass down and swiftly stood up from the couch. He did the same.

"I might not have seen you in years but I think I know you better than anyone on this planet. Am I right?" He asked, watching as I paced up and down in front of him.

I scoffed and shook my head.

"You're tellin' me that this guy- this guy - knows you better than I do?" Arvin lifted a picture of Will and I up to demonstrate.

"Yes. He does."

"Bullshit." He spat.

"You don't get to say shit like that Arvin. You know why?" I challenged, standing close to him with my hands on my hips.

"Why?" He retorted.

"Because you left! You left to murder someone! You'd have rather been a killer livin' with guilt for the rest of your life than to be with me." I shouted.

I didn't notice how close we were until he laughed and I could feel his familiar breath on my face.

"I had to do it. That preacher was no good. And neither was that cops sister and her dirt-bag husband." He snapped.

I blinked at him in confusion.

"Wh-what do you mean the cops sister and her husband?" I asked in a soft tone.

He looked away from me and gulped.

I gasped and held my hands over my mouth, "Did- did you-"

He grabbed and held my hands, "They were gonna kill me, y/n. They would take hitchhikers and murder them to take pictures with their dead bodies. I wasn't about to be the next one."

I widened my eyes, "They did what?!"

"And then I got caught out by the cop...his sister was the wife. He followed me to Knockemstiff and tried to shoot me with a shot gun. I had to, y/n. He was gonna kill me I-"

I could see the tears and the panic in his eyes. I just reached my hands up and wrapped them around his shoulders, bringing him into my arms. His face went into my neck and I could feel tears drip onto my skin. I threaded my fingers through his hair.

"I'm a bad person, y/n. I killed four people..." He sniffed.

"Arvin, look at me." I tugged him from my neck and cupped his cheeks.

"You are not a bad person. You were just caught up in some twisted shit and you had no other way. You are a good person, Arvin." I said sincerely, feeling tears spring into my own eyes.

"I lost you because of it, though I just- I can't-" He cried.

"I know." I sniffled, feeling a tear drip down my face.

I looked at him; teary, eyes swollen and red, complexion pale. I didn't know what else to do.

"You're a good person, Arvin." I said again, leaning up on my tip-toes to kiss his cheek.

He hummed at my touch and I kissed his other cheek, "You did nothin' wrong."

I went back to his right cheek and kissed it again like I needed to feel his skin on my lips once more.

Just as I went to kiss his other cheek, he leaned forward and caught my lips with his instead.

I gasped, pulling away from his body and looking at him, touching my fingers over my lips.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. You're an engaged woman and I-"

I launched forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and crashing my lips to his. It took a second to make sure it was real. But as his hands slid effortlessly onto my waist, I knew.

"You're the love of my life, Arvin. You always have been and always will be." I whispered, pulling away briefly.

He stared into my eyes but didn't say a word. But I knew what he was thinking. He kissed me again, our lips moved over each other's with fervour and passion, the excitement and thrill of tasting each other again for the first time in years. In too long. He felt and tasted the same but more mature and wiser.

He pushed me back by my waist until my back hit the wall. I let out a moan of surprise and pleasure. He smirked against my lips before devouring me again. His tongue slipped easily into my mouth and I hummed, fully tasting him. My fingers ran through and tugged at his hair, and his hands ran up and down my sides and my back.

His touch felt nostalgic but euphoric and in the heat of the moment, everything was perfect.

"Your lips taste amazing," He said breathlessly between sloppy kisses.

"So do yours." I replied.

He wrapped his hands around my back and skilfully unzipped my dress. It fell to the floor in a pool around my ankles. I brought my hands to his shoulders as our kiss got heavier, teasing his suspenders before sliding them off his arms. I began unbuttoning his shirt in a hurried fashion as his lips started trailing down my jaw to my neck. I was finally able to push the fabric from his shoulders and then pulling his vest over his head.

And as his hands came down to my thighs to lift me up and around his torso, and as he carried me up and into my bedroom; I knew that he was it. He was the person I was destined to be with. He was the love of my life.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

5 years later

(Play ‘That Old Feeling’ by Doris Day now)

I placed the needle carefully onto the record and turned it up.

I walked through the house and got to the porch where I looked out and saw Arvin and Jack playing catch. I stood with a grin as my husband and 4 year old played enthusiastically - the old baseball still intact and very much in use.

I crouched down and placed the 2 year old who rested on my hip, onto the ground. She wobbled slightly but quickly got up and running. She made her way to the stairs which I quickly intervened and grabbed her hand to help her down onto the soil.

"Go get Daddy, Charlotte. Go!" I laughed, pointing to Arvin.

She squealed happily and ran towards her Dad, arms flailing clumsily as she sprinted. Arvin stopped the game of catch briefly as he saw his daughter coming towards him.

"Hey princess!" He grinned, crouching to his knees and grabbing his daughter.

He lifted her up and sat her on his knee, handing her the ball.

"Throw the ball to Jack, Charlotte!" Arvin prompted, pointing to the blonde haired boy who stood confidently.

She babbled a few words and then threw the ball onto the ground. At least she attempted. I whooped and clapped as I walked over.

"Good job, baby!" I praised in a baby voice.

Arvin stood up, letting Charlotte run around with her brother for a while, the dog joining them, enthusiastically bounding around them.

"Hey, handsome." I grinned as I reached Arvin.

"Hey, beautiful." He smiled.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed me, tongue briefly slipping into my mouth. I hummed in surprise and pulled away.

"Careful, Arvin or you'll be makin' another one of those tonight." I giggled.

We stood side by side, an arm wrapped around each other's back as we watched Jack attempt to play catch with his sister.

"Why don't we make another one, then?" Arvin suggested.

I looked at him with raised brows, "If you want to push one out of your ass, then by all means let's do it."

He chuckled, "I'm serious, y/n."

I turned to face him and he wrapped his arms around my waist while I played with the bottom of his hair.

"Another baby girl or boy? With a dog?" I laughed.

"Yeah...I mean it's crazy but it's our crazy." He smirked.

"Hmm, depends how nice you treat me tonight." I bit my lip.

He held back a shit-eating grin, "Oh...you're so gettin' knocked up tonight."

I gasped, smacking his chest with a laugh.

"I love you." He smiled.

"I love you, too."

"Forever?" He quipped.

"And ever." I smiled.

And we meant it.

-

A/N: oh my god. that's the mini-series done! i loved writing for Arvin it was fun with the southern dialogue and the 60s time period! i hope you all enjoyed reading as much as i enjoyed writing. If you'd like to request any one shots, head over to my instagram @tomholland1510 to request!

ALSO!! bonus points to anyone who understands the easter eggs in the kids' names! do they seem familiar? ;)

-

{Tags: @notandordinaryprincess96 @imagine-yourself-happy​}

[rufousnmacska]

Only You

A Manorian arranged marriage fic requested by an anon.

Huge thanks to @itach-i for her help and advice with plot and beta reading! ❤️

Previously, in Part One

Previously, in Part Two

*

PART THREE

*

Manon jumped at the knock on her door. She’d sat up all night watching the fire slowly die, unable to sleep. Stiff from sitting in a chair in a cold room for so many hours, she moved slowly to the door. Expecting Glennis, she was surprised to find Yrene waiting to come in. The healer’s smile disappeared when she got a good look at Manon.

“I’m sure I look how I feel,” Manon said by way of greeting. She turned and went back to her chair.

Shivering, Yrene tried to get the fire going again, adding some kindling and blowing on the few stubborn embers that remained in the fireplace. The flames caught, but it would be a while before any heat radiated from it. She sat opposite Manon, watching her carefully.

“Just say it,” Manon said.

“Say what?”

“Whatever you’re thinking.”

She’d come to consider Yrene a good friend over the last two years. The woman was kind and an exceptionally talented healer, helping Manon overcome some of the darkest moments of her grief. Yrene also helped her navigate her way through the complexities of her relationship with Dorian, giving her advice and translating some of the human customs she didn’t understand. Like exchanging gifts. Manon had never given or received a birthday gift before. Yrene not only helped her find one for Dorian, she listened without judgment as Manon explained how foreign the concept was to her. The idea for the memory book had come to her after imagining what Yrene might get if Dorian and Manon were marrying.

Yrene sighed, resting her head back and staring up at the ceiling. “I’ve never seen this room before,” she said, absentmindedly. “It’s quite lovely.”

Manon glanced up. The ceiling was painted like the sky at twilight. A deep, rich blue turning black with stars scattered across it. It was beautiful, and it reminded her of those frozen nights she and Dorian and the Thirteen spent camped in the Fangs in search of the Crochans. She recognized a constellation or two and realized it was likely the same night sky. She didn’t think there was enough time for him to have commissioned the mural between her accepting the invitation and now. But she’d learned long ago that it was foolish to underestimate Dorian’s love of grand romantic gestures. Whether it had been completed for this visit or not, the intention was the same. She leaned back to examine the stars, smiling slightly as memories came rushing back – Asterin teasing Dorian about his pretty blue eyes, Vesta’s shameless flirting that often came dangerously close to provoking Manon’s jealousy, Sorrel gifting Dorian an Ironteeth blade that he still carried, Ghislaine getting caught up in talking about books with him. They’d only traveled together for a couple of short months. And yet despite the hardships, there was so much good to remember. It made her think of the memory book, and how much she wished to be sharing it with him as his wife.

“Josie asked for you the other day,” Yrene said, drawing Manon’s attention back down from the ceiling.

“She said my name?” Yrene and Chaol’s daughter had just begun forming complex words the last time Manon had seen her.

“Well,” she said with a shrug, “it was close enough that we knew who she meant. She mixed up the words a wee bit, so it came out Ma Nauntie instead of Auntie Manon. She’d seen one of Adarlan’s wyverns flying over the castle and thought it was Abraxos.” Yrene was grinning at the memory. “I’m afraid she butchered his name. But we’ve got her trying Brax for short.”

Manon was returning Yrene’s smile, but she didn’t know what to say. For as fond as she’d grown of Yrene, she’d come to care for Josie just as much. Would she ever see them again after today?

As if reading her mind, Yrene said, “I know it might be hard for you. To come here again. So I was thinking, maybe someday we can visit you?” Tears spilled from Yrene’s eyes and she pulled out a handkerchief.

“Of course! You can come back with me tonight if you wish,” Manon said, stretching out a hand. Sometimes it still felt strange for her to offer comfort to others. But it was something Yrene knew about her, something she never called attention to. And now, the healer leaned forward to take Manon’s hand in hers.

Yrene tried to smile but it just made her cry harder. She stood and walked away, taking a moment to blow her nose and dry her eyes. When she returned, she said, “Please don’t marry that fae prick. He’s not good enough for you. And I don’t trust him.”

Manon laughed, part of her shocked at the possibility, the other shocked at hearing Yrene swear. “No need to worry about that,” she said, further amused by Yrene’s exaggerated relief. “I no longer have plans to marry anyone. A consort isn’t required either. So, when the time is right, I shall only be in need of a … What was that word you so eloquently used just now? I will only need a prick.”

Yrene’s cheeks reddened as she laughed. “Is it not the best word for him?”

Manon grew serious, thinking about her evening with Fennick. He’d been too flirtatious and self-absorbed, and a bit rude towards the others at the table with them. But based on her experiences with fae males, Fennick’s behavior was typical, with Rowan being the exception. Yes, he was arrogant, but he’d also expressed sympathy for the Thirteen, and shared his past heartbreak with her. She knew what Dorian thought of the prince and wasn’t surprised that Yrene would also dislike him.

“Why don’t you trust him?” Manon asked.

Yrene sighed and bit her lip as she searched for an answer. “It’s mostly a gut feeling. He barely addressed Dorian. And him telling us about coming here to find a mate didn’t endear him to anyone. Even Eveline thought he was an ass.” At Manon’s expression, she offered an apology for mentioning the young woman.

“No, don’t worry about that. I’m more interested in what you said about Fennick. He came here looking for a mate?”

“That’s what he said. Some tale or superstition of his grandmother’s claiming fae would find their mate at a wedding. It sounded made up. And when Eveline told him there were no other fae invited, he said he could have a bond with a human or witch.” Yrene shot her a wicked grin. “Dorian wanted to hit him, I could tell.”

Her own lips twitched upward at the thought. But her mind shifted quickly back to Fennick. She’d known of his intentions from the letter. But why antagonize Dorian? Yes, the male was conceited, but he hadn’t struck her as stupid. Yrene was watching her expectantly, but Manon just said, “Well, regardless, you don’t have to worry about him. I don’t intend to see him after today.”

“Thank the gods,” Yrene said, apparently letting the subject go.

Manon knew Yrene had an extra sense about people. Whether it was her healing magic or just her ability to read others, Manon didn’t know. But she trusted Yrene’s opinion and knew it wasn’t clouded by jealousy like Dorian’s. Yrene’s relief set off warning bells. Manon needed to think, and she welcomed the distraction it offered as she waited for the ceremony later today.

“Where is Josie now?” she asked.

“With Chaol. Actually, I should be getting back.”

“Do we have time for an early lunch before the ceremony? You could bring her up here.”

Yrene beamed at the offer, promising to return with her child in a few hours.

After the healer left, Manon bathed and dressed. She sent her guards off on separate errands, giving them the names of castle staff who might know the gossip that was most difficult to come by. Then she set out on her own search for information, something she should have done sooner.

***

Dorian heard shouting from the main stable and poked his head through the door. The head groom was sending stable hands off in every direction, calling out reminders about the diets of certain horses. She saw Dorian and walked over to greet him.

“Apologies, Your Majesty. One of my lead grooms didn’t show up for work this morning and we’re scrambling to get the horses fed.” The woman grabbed hold of a young boy and turned him around. “Other way, lad. And be careful. That horse bites.”

Dorian smiled. “Don’t mind me. I’m just headed for the wyvern paddock. Have they been fed yet?”

Only half listening, she nodded, then turned back to the chaos surrounding her. “Last time I give so much responsibility to one person,” she muttered.

Continuing around the main stable and towards the far end of the yard, he saw a figure standing by the building that housed the wyverns and stopped. But it was only Glennis. The white hair had fooled him for a split second. She was feeding a small, bluish gray wyvern.

“I thought you’d never give up your broom,” he said, holding out his hand towards Abraxos. The little wyvern snuffled against his palm and Dorian rubbed his snout.

Glennis waved a hand, feigning irritation at her new mode of transport. “Neither did I until this little trouble-maker hatched out of an egg.” She tossed a chunk of meat to her wyvern, then moved on to the next one. Apparently Abraxos had already received his breakfast. “I’ll let you in on a secret,” Glennis said, “the wyverns are more comfortable to ride. Especially for old witches like me.”

Dorian laughed, giving her his best smile. “Who are you kidding? You’re still young.” She snorted and waved him off again. As she fed the other wyverns, he turned back to Abraxos.

Fearing this would be his last chance to see the wyvern and hoping no one else would be here, he’d gotten up early to visit. Not that he’d actually slept. He couldn’t remember the last time he got a full night’s sleep. “Hey, Brax,” he cooed, stepping through the gate into the stall. The wyvern curled his long, barbed tail around Dorian’s feet as he continued petting his snout. Dorian pulled a small bouquet of flowers from his cloak and laughed as a low, contented sound rumbled from Abraxos’s chest.

“He’s not like that with just anyone.” Glennis was standing behind them. “Flowers or no flowers.”

“I know,” Dorian said.

“She’d be mad to see you spoiling him so much.”

He huffed a laugh. “I know.” But he didn’t stop.

Glennis knew why he was here and went back to spoil her own wyvern, giving him privacy.

After a while, Dorian inhaled, long and ragged, his breath pooling in the morning chill when he released it. Abraxos watched him, seeming to know this was a goodbye. The wyvern let out a sad whine and Dorian tipped his head forward to rest against Abraxos. “You take good care of her for me, Brax. All right?”

Abraxos huffed in agreement, enshrouding Dorian in a cloud of hot air. The pungent smell gave Dorian the perfect excuse for the tears that had gathered in his eyes as he said goodbye to the little scarred wyvern.

Glennis was not so easily fooled. She knew the reason for the shimmer in his eyes, but said nothing as they started back to the castle together. The main stable appeared to be under control and Dorian waved to the head groom as they passed.

“You were married to a Crochan prince,” Dorian said, breaking their silence as they climbed a hill. “Was it arranged, or did you choose each other?”

For all her talk of old age, Glennis didn’t struggle with the incline. “A bit of both. We’d known each other forever, and our parents had thought it was a good match. There was never any formal agreement but they encouraged us. It was a bond forged of love.”

“So, you were mates then?”

“Yes,” she said, pulling her cloak up around her neck as they reached the top and were exposed to the wind. “But witches don’t have mating bonds like the fae.” She stopped walking to think. “It’s not a tether, not a physical thing like it is to the fae. There’s no silent communication, no feral territoriality. It’s just a stronger connection than a normal relationship. Why are you asking?”

Dorian tried to shrug it off. “Just curious.” They started walking again and he moved so he might block the worst of the wind from reaching her. “Then it has nothing to do with witches having fae blood? I mean, Manon must have more than the average witch since she comes from a lineage without much human involvement.”

Glennis frowned. “Hmmm, maybe. I’d never really thought of it like that. Our fae blood is so diluted, I’m not sure that it really makes a difference.” She stopped, and by her sad eyes, he knew he’d failed to fool her again. “You think Manon is your mate.”

He wanted to say yes. How else to explain the depth of his feelings for her? That constant tug in his chest. Light as it may be, it still connected him to her. Perhaps it was the fae blood in her, making a mating bond between them stronger than with other witches. But then, wouldn’t that also make it more possible for her to be Fennick’s mate? No, he wouldn’t allow himself to go down that path. Not after a long night of fighting the worst his imagination could come up with.

Maybe what he had with Manon was just love. A strong love of two people who completed each other, filled in the pieces that were missing and held the other up when darkness set in. That would be enough, Dorian knew. He didn’t need a mating bond to love her.

Glennis was still waiting for his reply. “I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “I don’t think it matters.” He’d meant the words differently than she took them. But when sorrow crept across her face, so deep it made his chest ache, he knew what she was thinking.

“No,” she said. “After today, I don’t think it will either.”

*****

Manon sat rigid, her eyes facing forward, ignoring all the stares and words whispered in her direction. She and Glennis had blessedly been ushered to a spot with only two available seats, ensuring Fennick could not sit next to her. Giselle and Lara were positioned nearby, but out of the way of other guests. Hearing Fennick’s voice as he took his seat a couple of rows behind them, Manon exchanged a look with Glennis.

After her lunch with Yrene and while they readied themselves for the ceremony, Manon and her guards had discussed what little they could find out about the prince. The two witches gathered minimal gossip from the castle workers. The prince had brought no attendants or valets of his own, and he’d made a show of turning down the head steward’s offer to provide him one. It wasn’t unusual for a noble to eschew servants, even for a long and important trip such as this. But it felt off given his formality and haughty nature. Of course, it kept him out of the streams of gossip among the staff.

Manon had gone herself to the royal library, hoping to find some information on Fennick’s lineage. The Whitethorn clan was old and spread out in the fae lands across the sea. And with his age, she thought perhaps he’d been mentioned in a genealogy or even history book. But the librarian had been unable to find anything substantial. The only occurrence of his name was in a recent book about the fae that included trees of the older families. Fennick was indeed a second cousin to Rowan and Sellene, stemming from a side of the family that Maeve had passed over when it came to titles and lands. How he’d risen to prince so quickly, she didn’t know. Sellene, ever practical and shrewd, had not seemed the type to toss out prestigious titles to just anyone. Nor was she the type, Manon realized, who would send an extravagant gift in an attempt to brag about her kingdom’s wealth.

They’d found nothing, and what little she did know made no sense. And yet, it left her unsettled. Glennis too. But, like the others, her grandmother had hated him from the start. In her mind, Manon had already dismissed him as a possible consort or provider of an heir. Yet she was still more ambivalent about Fennick’s flaws than Glennis and Yrene. His story about the human woman he’d almost given up his immortality for had touched a very raw nerve and stuck with her. Whether it was the faint similarities to her own situation, or just that she pitied him, she was unsure. Perhaps Yrene was wrong. And Glennis.

That was what unsettled her the most. It seemed impossible that both of them would misjudge the male. If only she weren’t here for Dorian’s wedding. Everything from her wits to her instincts were off kilter because of it, and she didn’t trust herself. Then again, if not for this wedding, she’d never have met Fennick and wouldn’t need to concern herself with him. The one good thing to come of it was the distraction it had provided her today.

There was movement at the front of the large chapel and Manon used every ounce of control to keep her face calm as Dorian and Chaol walked out towards the podium behind which the priest stood. Dressed in an azure jacket that brought out the brilliance of his eyes, he looked even more handsome than he had last night at dinner. Damaris hung from his side, and with his crown, he looked like a warrior king of old. This was it then, she thought, praying uselessly for more distractions or delays. Anything to keep her from having to watch Dorian pledge himself to another.

When he and Chaol took their places, the strings began to play a soft, beautiful melody. She couldn’t help herself and looked right at Dorian. He was, of course, staring at her. And for that moment, she pretended that she was walking to meet him. That she would be taking him as her king, becoming his queen, instead of Eveline. The hint of a smile caught his lips and she suspected, hoped, that he was imagining the same thing.

It wasn’t until Chaol lightly touched Dorian’s arm, drawing a frown in response, that she noticed the music had started over. She turned to Glennis and saw confusion, which was mirrored on the others in the crowd. Her grandmother stretched around to look back at the front entrance where the bride should have been standing.

“Maybe she has cold feet,” someone muttered.

In the first row, Lord Frey was turning red with rage. And right before he could jump up to go find his daughter and likely drag her down the aisle, Yrene came running in with a note in her hand.

***

Dorian hadn’t noticed anything. He’d been too busy looking at Manon. She was seated, so he couldn’t see the entire thing, but this dress rivaled the one she’d worn last night. A silvery gray color that matched the shimmering wings of her wyvern, the dress had a neckline that stretched across her collar bones, from shoulder to shoulder. Hanging down over her chest was a single red ruby, large enough to fit within the eye in the pommel of his sword. Her hair was braided into a crown atop her head. Despite their fight, despite everything, he smiled at her, unable to tear his gaze away. Unable to keep from wishing it was her walking towards him today.

Until Chaol tapped his arm and brought him back to reality. Where the musicians were fumbling to begin the processional again. Where Lord Frey was staring daggers at him for admiring Manon. Where Yrene was walking up the aisle instead of Eveline. He hadn’t even noticed Yrene wasn’t seated before them.

Trying to keep her voice low, she handed Dorian the letter she carried and said, “She’s gone. This was all she left.”

With so many eager ears and the heightened acoustics of the building, everyone heard her. Immediately, the chapel was in an uproar. Some guests were shocked, upset to see their king abandoned at the altar. Others were watching the scene unfold with glee, anxious for the tales they could tell afterwards. The priest stood with his mouth agape. Lord Frey was reaching for the letter, sputtering curses and pushing back the lords who’d allied with him. They were gathered around him, clamoring for an explanation. Manon and Glennis both stared wide-eyed at him, unsure how to react.

Dorian spun away from Lord Frey’s grasp and began to read.

Your Majesty,

Please forgive me for the lateness of this wedding gift. I had hoped to have it weeks ago, but my father is a paranoid man with many hideaways, and my efforts were delayed.

My father is not what he seems. He lost most of his gold during the war and has been pretending to be wealthy ever since. He fears nothing more than losing his title and being relegated to a life of poverty. His complaints to his neighbors about your rule were nothing more than talk. Is wasn’t until he was approached from afar that the talk turned into real threats of rebellion.

I was aware that someone was pushing my father down this path, offering to pay a rich reward for his work, but I didn’t know who until just an hour ago. A friend was finally able to procure some messages sent from the foreign party to my father as proof of their plan. They have been placed in your valet’s safe keeping. Ruben was always kind to me, and I believe him to be a trustworthy attendant to you.

I am sure you are curious about who is funding my father’s play at rebellion. I must confess I was shocked and confused to learn that Prince Fennick is behind the plot.

According to the messages, the prince had heard of my father’s money woes and came to him with a plan. My father was to stir up trouble among your nobles then offer up my hand in marriage as the only way to appease him and prevent a war.

I cannot be sure of the prince’s motives, but I suspect he has had his eye on your beloved witch queen for some time. I trust you will be able to get the details out of him.

I must also ask your forgiveness for my dreadful conduct in leaving you like this. The truth is, I am in love with a man named Costis, a groom in your stables. We had planned to run away, but my father pulled me unwillingly into his scheme before we could manage it. Costis was able to acquire the letters just this morning. As I have been freed from my father, we are now off to live our own lives.

I said above that this is my wedding gift to you. Of course, as we are no longer getting married, I do not give it to you as a wife to her husband. Instead, I offer this to my King, who is also now free to be with the witch he loves.

With hope for a long and happy life with your queen,

Eveline

 Dorian wasn’t sure if he was breathing. He rubbed at his eyes, skimmed over the message again and again, making sure it was real and not some figment of his overwrought imagination. Passing it to Chaol, he ordered him to arrest Frey. And then he found Manon in the crowd and ran to her.

Her face held a million questions, but there was no time. They’d waited long enough. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her. After a second’s hesitation, she wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. He thought he heard someone yelling but it faded away, just like everything else around them.

The world, his world, was here in his arms. That’s all that mattered.

When they broke apart, the chapel had quieted down. Manon opened her eyes slowly, as if coming out of a trance. “Marry me, witchling,” Dorian said, letting his wild grin take over his face. “Not today. I want our friends with us. But please, will you marry me? Be my queen? The only one I’ve ever wanted.”

Manon began to laugh, and the sound of her joy was like a balm to his heart, repairing all the cracks and pieces that had broken off in the past months.

“Please,” he repeated. “If you want me to beg, I will.”

She laughed again before cupping his face in her hands and nodding. “Yes. I will marry you, princeling.”

Some of the guests began cheering, others were still reeling by the turn of events. Chaol and Yrene were next to them, hugging Glennis.

Dorian turned to see Lord Frey in shackles, being hauled off by the royal guard. A glance to Chaol told him they still had one other person to deal with. Signaling to his remaining guard and Manon’s sentinels, he walked to where Fennick still stood, an expression of deepest insult on the prince’s face.

“Fennick Whitethorn, you are under arrest for plotting to overthrow Adarlan,” Dorian said. Manon looked between him and Fennick, speechless with shock.

The male was stricken with outrage. “What? What the hell are you talking about? When I return to Doranelle, this will not be forgotten! Sellene will not stand for this!”

“I suspect Queen Sellene is not aware of what you’ve been up to,” Dorian countered, noticing Ruben enter the chapel. His valet waved a stack of papers for Dorian to see. Dorian nodded and motioned for Chaol to fetch them. To Manon, he explained, “Eveline found proof that our good friend Fennick was paying Lord Frey to carry out this sham. He wanted me out of the way to pursue you.”

Manon’s eyes narrowed and he saw the anger and embarrassment rise in her like a flood. It was a level of rage he’d never seen on her before. And hoped to never see again.

She turned and glared up at Fennick. He immediately began accusing Eveline and Lord Frey of lying, accusing Dorian of making it up to escape the wedding. But she said nothing, just watched him grow more pathetic as he spouted increasingly ridiculous excuses. When he had nothing left to say, Manon cocked her arm and punched him in the face, sending him shuffling back and twirling around before he thudded to the floor, unconscious. Her witches picked him up and dragged him out, following the royal guard to the dungeon.

*****

After an abbreviated un-wedding dinner, Manon walked with Dorian to the top of the king’s tower, past her guest rooms to the suite she would now be sharing with him. There was much to be discussed and worked out. While their marriage would be a good alliance for both kingdoms, compromises would have to be made. Including, Manon informed him, splitting their time between the two capitols.

Dorian had agreed before she even got all the words out. “I don’t care where we are, as long as we’re together.”

“We can’t be together all the time,” she said, trying to be sensible as she stood before him, staring in wonder at his proximity, listening to his heartbeat. He was taking his time pulling the pins from her hair, one by one. Manon wasn’t sure if sensible was possible right now. The heartache of the last six months, the explosive revelations of hours ago, she exhaled and let it all go, as if the winds could carry it away across the sea. Right here, right now, it was just them. Sensible talk about kingdoms and politics could wait.

“I beg to differ,” he said, reaching around her head for a pin. The movement brought him blessedly closer.

“There you go again,” she purred. “Begging.”

Her hair was free of pins and he began to undo the braid, letting it fall through his fingers. “Only for you, witchling.”

She continued to watch him, getting lost in the perfect smile that hadn’t left his face in hours. When Manon reached up and ran her fingers over his dimpled cheek, he made a little gasp and turned his attention from her hair. “You said last night that I don’t belong to you, but you belong to me,” she said.

“I did.” His smile faded, his voice a deep whisper.

“You were wrong. I am yours and yours only. There is no one else I would give myself to.”

Dorian took her face in both hands and kissed her, and she felt his smile return. “Only you.”

Clutching her hand, he led her to the bed where they took their time undressing each other. She lay back on the bed, losing herself to the charged heat of his touch, the soft fullness of his lips.

“Only you,” she murmured, feeling his mouth curl up against the inside of her thigh.

Dorian took his time, for they had that now. Time to tease and caress every inch of her, time to nip at her ears, time to shift her hips to sink deeper inside her, leaving her breathless and needy for more. And after an eternity where he sent her spinning over the edge again and again, he joined her, calling out her name as if it were his home.

When their euphoria faded, Dorian fell onto the bed next to her, pulling her close as they fought to catch their breath. “And you say I’m the one who always begs,” he teased.

They slept in the next morning, not getting out of bed until almost noon when Ruben knocked and demanded they eat something. There were other things to see to, guests to say goodbye to, and then finally, that night after dinner, Manon and Dorian went to the dungeons.

The second Lord Frey saw them, he dropped to his knees. “Please, Your Majesty. I only wanted the money to rebuild my estate. I never intended to bring about war. Please, please …”

Manon was surprised by the sudden turn. Just yesterday at the ceremony, he’d been trying to urge his allies to stand in support of him, ultimately resorting to screamed threats that had the opposite effect. And now, he was on his knees, pleading for his life.

“You’re accused of treason, Frey,” Dorian said. The man flinched at the loss of his title. “If you really want to continue confessing, be my guest. But you may want to wait for a judge.”

The man shook his head, befuddled. “You … you’re not going to hang me?”

This man had almost destroyed their lives, bringing Adarlan to the brink of civil war. Dorian had every right to punish him harshly. They’d discussed how to handle these interrogations over dinner, though they had not expected it would be this easy. It seemed that Frey was a coward at heart and had been a poor choice of conspirators for Fennick.

Dorian said, “I won’t hang you. If you tell me why.”

Frey heaved a sigh of relief, though he had the sense to still look nervous. “Before the war, Duke Perrington forced me to help fund some of his work at Morath.” At Dorian’s dubious look, he added, “I swear I did not know who he truly was then. I was acting in the best interest of my kingdom and my holdings. But … he bled me dry, offering promises of future reward that never came. And then he was revealed to be Erawan, leaving Adarlan devastated. I had enough in my vault to maintain appearances, but nothing more. Prince Fennick approached me earlier this year with an offer that would allow me to regain my former wealth. I was to stir up dislike for you and get support from other nobles, enough to pose a credible threat to your throne. When talk of rebellion grew to a boiling point, I would demand you marry my daughter. Her hand in exchange for appeasing your enemies.”

“And what was your payment?” Manon asked.

“Gold,” Frey said simply. She arched an eyebrow in a silent demand for more, and he sank miserably onto the floor. “And the promise that when an heir was born, the king would be eliminated, leaving me as regent.”

The gold was expected. But the threat of assassination came as a shock. Dorian was speechless, trying to process how close they’d come to ruin. Frey eyed him, fearful that the earlier proposal to spare him from hanging would be dismissed.

“What did he stand to gain?” Manon continued. Frey seemed oblivious to the fact that he would be installed as a puppet. Or, more likely, set up as Dorian’s killer and disposed of himself.  

“Prince Fennick would be able to marry you. He told me all about how the two of you met during the war.” At Manon’s surprise, the man hesitated. “He said that he had fallen in love with you, that you were his mate. But you were attached to King Dorian. He believed the only chance he stood was to have the king removed from the mix.”

Manon and Dorian said nothing as they stared at each other. Frey returned to begging for his life, mistaking their silence for anger at the dark depths of the scheme. He was still calling out to them for mercy as they left him with a guard.

When they reached Fennick’s cell further down the dank passageway, they found the fae stretched out lazily on a cot. His eyes were closed, and something about the scene made Manon’s temper boil to the surface. Dorian cleared his throat, and the fae could no longer pretend they weren’t there. He stood and looked between her and Dorian.

She’d thought perhaps Fennick might still be projecting the indignant fury of the night before, or something worse. But he wore the same confident expression he’d had when she first met him.

“I wasn’t lying about that woman I loved. Mortals are fickle. And they die so easily.”

It was directed at Manon, but Dorian asked, “Was that a threat?” She knew he was keeping his magic on a tight leash, but the air still crackled with it.

Fennick huffed a laugh, ignoring the question and Dorian. “Immortals such as you and I should not debase ourselves by associating with humans. Maeve and I rarely saw eye to eye, but the restrictions she placed on who could settle in Doranelle were something on which we could agree.”

“It seems to me your human was the smart one,” Manon said, somehow controlling the urge to maul him. “Escaping your clutches was the best thing that could have happened to her.”

He grinned at her, his sharp canines flashing, a glint of malice in his eyes. “Who said she escaped me?”

Here was the male she’d been worried they might find, the one kept hidden under the fancy clothes and courtly manners. The one who thought he could take their kingdoms as his own.

“So, you hate humans?” Dorian asked, lightly. “That’s what this is all about?”

Fennick finally turned to acknowledge him. “I don’t particularly care for them. But no, Your Majesty, that’s not what this is about.” Dorian’s title came out of his mouth as a sneer. “I had just as much right to Maeve’s throne as any Whitethorn. To simply hand it to Sellene, as if it were some cheap trinket to be tossed at whoever stood nearest was a disgrace.”

“We had nothing to do with that,” Manon said.

“True,” Fennick agreed. “But there were no other kingdoms as vulnerable as yours. Or as valuable, what with all that gold you have hidden in the Wastes. The Witch Kingdom was the perfect place to start.”

Manon growled at the insult, but Dorian asked, “Start what?”

“My rule,” he said simply. To Manon, he added, “Having you at my side was to an extra reward. I understand the valg king wanted you for his queen. I must confess, that piqued my interest.”

She shuddered at the mention of Erawan. It brought back memories of the way his eyes would crawl over her, possessive and hungry. The valg king had planned to keep her as his own. Much like this fae.

Dorian’s restraint was reaching its limit and the air felt suddenly cooler. His voice was just as icy as he asked, “Rule what?”

“Everything.” The word was slick, as if coated in venom.

Something had changed in Fennick’s manner with the confession. Gone were the handsome features and polite way of speaking. Locked in a cell, his hair disheveled and clothing dirty, he looked like a different creature. She’d known fae could be feral, animalistic. She’d experienced it, barely survived it. But watching him speak these words, Manon wondered if she’d truly ever seen the transformation before.

“You searched for a desperate Adarlan noble,” she said, “one with a marriageable daughter, one who could be paid off to extort the king. All to force Dorian into an arranged marriage, seduce me to steal my kingdom, then kill him for his. Do I have it right?”

Fennick’s eyes narrowed on Dorian and he grinned. “The seduction part is right, at least.”

Manon flew at him, her iron nails extended and desperate for blood. Bars or not, she wanted to scratch the bastard’s eyes from their sockets. But Dorian grabbed her by the waist and held her back. She struggled against him briefly before calming down. When he let go of her, she still shook with the desire to hurt the male. This fae prince had truly thought he could conquer Erilea? She wanted to scream in his face that he was a fool. But she kept her mouth shut, not wanting to bring more attention to how close he’d come to setting his plan in motion. And to her own foolishness. She’d let this monster touch her, dance with her. She’d pitied him when he deserved nothing but revulsion.

Dorian stepped up to the cell door, eyeing Fennick with a sly smile. “It’s funny that you think you could try to play us against each other.”

The male shrugged, unconcerned. “It was worth a shot. You are only human.”

“I may only be human,” Dorian said, “but I have something you don’t.”

Instantly, Fennick was slammed backwards by invisible hands, thrown up against the grimy stone wall and held there. He tried to speak but couldn’t. Somehow, Dorian had cut off his voice. The male’s eyes bulged in rage.

Manon watched Fennick struggle against Dorian’s magic, her enjoyment of the spectacle growing with each vein that popped out on the male’s neck. Speaking to Dorian, she mused, “Do you think he’s even a prince?”

“From his branch of the family? The one even Maeve ignored?” Dorian taunted. “No, I doubt it. And Sellene certainly played no part in this. He’s here on his own, likely without a coin to his name.”

“That reminds me,” Manon said, turning back to Fennick. “Your intricate plan had at least two big flaws,” she said. “Your reliance on using the Witch Kingdom’s gold was misguided, I’m afraid. The gold we have is mostly still in the ground, unrefined, and worth next to nothing. And your pathetic attempts to seduce me and make me think we might be mates …” She trailed off, swallowing the bile that had risen in her throat at the words. “My mate stands beside me now,” she said, feeling Dorian’s gaze settle on her. Whatever connection they shared, whether it was love or something more, they were mates in each other’s eyes.

Fennick had gone still, a silent, malevolent rage simmering off him. She glanced at Dorian, who loosened his magical hold and let the fae drop to the floor in a heap.

Jumping up, Fennick sprang towards the bars holding him in, teeth bared, his hands reaching out to strike her. Dorian had them shielded. And when his fists were repelled by nothing but air, Fennick screamed. “You bitch! You don’t know-” The fae was thrown back against the wall, his voice cut off again.

“I’ve heard enough,” Dorian said, his face twisted as he struggled to control his magic so as not to kill the male.

Before they left, Manon said, “A messenger has been sent to Sellene, outlining all you’ve done and what you will be charged with. If she asks for you back to throw in her own cells, we may oblige.” When he didn’t seem to care, she added, “And a messenger was sent north to Terrasen. I’m sure Rowan will be interested in hearing about what you’ve done using the family name.” For the first time, real fear flashed across Fennick’s face. Manon smiled, wicked and slow. “You’re right to fear him,” she said. “But I fought with Sellene in the war. She is just as fearsome as Rowan. Why do you think they made her queen?”

By the time they walked back past Frey’s cell, it had been emptied of its prisoner. In exchange for his promise of testimony, he’d been moved to a cleaner section of the dungeons. And when they started up the twisting stairs, Dorian released his magic. They heard a thud and a string of loud curses.

Manon was silent as they came out into a room just off the main entrance hall. Even though she never fell for Fennick’s advances, had never come close to letting things progress in that direction, she’d excused his behavior. The fact that he’d marked her as a fool, marked her kingdom as vulnerable, marked Dorian for death, left her dizzy with guilt and fear. While Glennis and Yrene were happy to be proven right about him, Manon felt adrift, as if her instincts had abandoned her.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” Dorian said, motioning the steward over to them. She didn’t hear what he requested.

“I know. But it feels as though it is.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I was duped as much as you were. Thank the gods for Eveline and Costis.”

“Yes,” Manon agreed. “I wonder where they will end up?”

A boy returned bearing two heavy cloaks. Dorian took them and smiled. “I don’t know. But we should find them and send them a wedding gift.”

He draped a cloak over her shoulders and put the other one across his own. Clasping her hand, he led her out of the castle and in the direction of the stables. Abraxos stretched his long neck and arched his back at the first sight of them, excited for their late visit. Manon hugged Dorian tight, thanking him for knowing exactly what she needed at the exact right time. They climbed into the saddle and with a whoop from his rider, Abraxos took off into the star filled night.

***

The following summer in Rifthold, after a week of festivities that brought the Terrasen Queen and her entire court, the Queen of the Western Wastes, the future Emperor and Empress of the Southern Continent, the newly crowned King of Wendlyn, the Queen of Doranelle, and other royalty from across Erilea, Dorian and Manon were finally married.

That night, after the ceremony, as they lay in bed pointing out familiar constellations that had been painted on the ceiling of the royal suite, Dorian pulled a package from the bedside table. Silently, he presented it to his queen. Manon took it, bemused and unable to tell what was under the wrapping. When she tore it off and opened the box, she found a beautiful, leather-bound book.

Stamped in gold lettering on the cover were their names, Manon and Dorian.

“Is this the same …?” She trailed off, knowing the answer before finishing the question.

Dorian shook his head. “No, but Glennis told me about the one you got. I thought we should have our own. Open it.”

She flipped through and found some of the pages in the beginning already filled in. There was a family tree for each of them. Dorian’s included Chaol, Yrene, and Josie. And Manon traced her fingers over the names of the parents she’d never met, and the sisters she had lost.

Then a page titled How We Met. It was mostly blank, except for where Dorian had written

She saved me.

Manon stared at it for a long moment. Then suddenly, she jumped out of bed and went to his desk. After a moment of searching, she found a pen and bottle of ink. Underneath his words, she wrote

He saved me too.

Over the years, the book was carried back and forth between Adarlan and the Witch Kingdom, never leaving the possession of the King and Queen. Its pages were filled with memories, happy and sad. Memories of theirs and of others. Births, deaths.

And when the book was passed on to their daughter, she read her parents love for her and each other in every word. For they were lucky. Rhiannon’s parents were a love match, and she’d promised them she wouldn’t settle for anything less.

The end.

***

Thank you so much for reading! I hope this ending made up for the pain and angst everyone suffered through! ☺️

You can find my writing master list here or on AO3.

@itach-i  @bookishwitchling  @manontrashbeak  @awesomelena555  @jimetg98  @over300books

[talkfantasytome]

This got a little long, forgive me if this is tormenting you, but I really love to talk about this and I also loved your answers and would love to know your point of view on other parts of the story.

So, here I will show you my thoughts about what might happen in the next book with Azriel and also how I believe more people will know about Lucien and Helion in the next book. Let's go.

This is a thought of mine, but I think that probably in the next book more characters will learn that Lucien is Helion's son. I remember that either Rhys or Feyre said that they hadn't told anyone yet because it wasn't the time. I think that maybe something happens and in one of the meetings they have, in the search to find a solution to something Feysand can tell the IC, or something happens and Lucien unintentionally releases some power that makes other people suspicious. I think SJM is taking too long with this issue and it will get too rushed if she adds this only in the last book. Making a small comparison with TOG we saw as the books went by more and more characters knowing until they had the reunion between father and son.

I just don't know how this will be added in the story, because I believe the next book (using logic and the end of the book), will be about the Ilyrians vs Valkyries conflict, Ilyrians vs NC and the autumn court conflicts. Maybe Eris will use this to make Helion want to kill his father, we know he is looking for someone to kill him. As we know that Cassian and Rhys deal with Eris, I believe we will see less of him in this book as we saw in ACOSF but he will still appear in the Nightmare Court, on another hand, who gives information to Azriel is Lucien, so I believe we will see some conversation between the two.

I believe that the Ilyrians will plan something to hit the girls for getting out of the bloond rite alive, I believe that some Ilyrians will be inspired by them, probably Emerie will suffer something since besides being Ilyrian, she had her wings cut off and works and lives there, I am not sure but I think they will want them to stay training in the Ilyrian training camp. As Rhys and Cassian said it will be hard to make Azriel want to defend the Ilyrians because to him they could all die, I believe that will be one of the points to work on, maybe working with the Ilyrians he will feel the need to protect them and the fact that the Valkyries are connected to that makes me 50% sure that will be one of the triggers for him to defend them. (Just like Nesta who wanted the women to train to defend themselves and why it helped her with her trauma, I think this Ilyrianas training will mess with her feelings for being connected to her mother and the way she was treated). I also believe that the Ilyrian who did not kill the girls in the blood rite will reappear, probably mediating the problem between the Valkyries and the Ilyrians, to show Azriel that not all Ilyrians are bad and so on.

(I think this will be the first plot of the book, as it was in ACOSF, making this one want to go train, then her liking to train and wanting the other women to train as well. I think something like that will happen at the beginning of the book with Azriel).

The other plot I am not sure but I think it will involve AC again and Gwyn. I don't know how it will happen but I am really excited to read the next book.

Do you agree with this thought?

Hi Nonnie! No, definitely not tormenting me. <3

So, first, I just want to say this seems totally possible! Admittedly, that's not saying much, as I'm very open-minded to the possibilities of the next books and, also, considering what "possible" means, you really can't say something isn't possible. So, you won't find me saying something isn't possible unless it's like "I think Nesta and Rhys are going to go on a Bryaxis hunt, and they're going to fall in love and end up cheating on their mates with each other while Cassian goes off to Autumn to f*ck Eris and Feyre decides to explore her sexuality with Emerie." Like, okay, no, that's not gonna happen. 😂

But, with anything that really does seem to be thought of based on what's happened in the books and being foreshadowed - totally possible!

As for me, personally - I agree with a good chunk of this, but not sure on all of it, so I'm going to dive in to help explain better.

Lucien & Helion: Honestly, yes. I do agree more people will find out in the next book. I do hope it's saved mostly for the full novels over the novellas, as it's such a big plot point, so I really don't want anyone finding out in a novella, except maybe characters that would be completely unaffected by this. Like, for example, say people find out in book 5, then the Emorie novella comes out (that's my hope), and Mor reveals to Emerie about Lucien...unless Emerie and Lucien become besties in book 5, it really has very little effect on her life, so that's okay. But other IC members, for example - it needs to come out in a full novel.

That is, unless, it becomes the main plot point of a novella. But, since we know Lucien's story is likely to be in a novel, I find that unlikely.

So I do believe we'll start to see more. I think Cassian starting to see something in Lucien was a bit of foreshadowing, and my guess is that for the next book we'll see more of Lucien and E\ain, just like we saw more of Az in ACOSF - as the way to build up their book.

In terms of how it'll be added, I've added thoughts on that in the next section.

As for Eris & Helion, I honestly don't think we'll see Eris "getting" Helion to kill his father. Whether or not something happens between Helion and Beron, who can say? It's possible. But I don't see Eris playing much of a role in that, just potentially benefiting from it. XD

Illyrians & Valkyries: I also agree the next book will have more focus on this. ACOSF was about the creation/establishment of the Valkyries, and I think book 5 will have a focus - though maybe smaller - on the building up of the Valkyries more. I also agree, believing that makes it harder to understand how Lucien's story will come into play.

BUT. With the knowledge that Gwyn's grandfather was an Autumn Court High Fae, and since we do believe there's likely to be a focus on the Valkyries, that's possibly where it could come in. If the book really is Az-Gwyn, we will see more of Gwyn's story and development, and if there is any relation to Lucien, then I think we'll get to see their relationship grow and develop. And that would be a prime spot to bring in the other aspect of the story and reveal it a bit more. Similarly, if it's more Eris and Gwyn getting to know each other, that could still be an opening for this plot point.

As for the Illyrians planning something to hit the Valkyries - I'm, honestly, not convinced. They already did that in bringing them into the Blood Rite, so it would be a rather similar plot point to once again have the Illyrians secretly plan to hurt the Valkyries.

I DO agree there will be conflict there, for sure. I think there's already growing conflict in Illyria, so that's where the main focus will be - the Illyrians are discontent, I think there was growing belief of a possible rebellion or something? So I think that's likely what will have a focus, and the Valkyries will come into play in a way that, I think, will act as a catalyst.

I could see the issue being that the Valkyries come round, proving how females can be trained, now with two Carynthians and an Oristian (sp? 👀), and they could become a beacon for Illyrian females. Especially with Emerie, proving what you can do even with clipped wings (what a badass). And maybe they start to get the females training more. They'll still have their training at the House, considering the priestesses, but Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn (hopefully), I'm guessing, will do stuff in Illyria with Cassian and Az.

Az & Illyrians: I definitely agree. One of the biggest aspects of most characters' emotional arcs is accepting themselves, who they are, who they were born to be. And that's going to be a HUGE part of Az's emotional journey, because we know he doesn't accept himself. Just as I believe E\ain's will be revolving around accepting herself as being High Fae, Az's will likely revolve around accepting his heritage. He tries to pretend on so many levels that he's not an Illyrian, but he is. He can't hide it. That's part of who he is.

And I get it. The Illyrians can kinda suck. Az and Cassian are two opposite sides of the spectrum of having a hard time with their heritage. Cassian hates the way they are, and wants to change it, but also desperately wants their approval (bby boi <3). Az, on the other hand, literally wants to never deal with them and act as if he's not one of them.

So I agree about that part of Az's emotional journey. I think it'll involve more, with him finally understanding he is worthy of love and accepting every part of himself, but the Illyrian side is a big piece.

Overall, I'd say I agree with a lot of what you've said. I typically don't think too much about possible future plot points the way I do relationships and other things, mostly because I generally plan to be surprised. LOL But, in thinking about it, that's sort of where I end up on possibilities, especially when thinking about ways in which we might see certain things play out. I definitely have no idea what the big climax will be, nor am I sure how it'll tie to the overarching plot. Plot is, admittedly, one of my weaker links - I'm not good at big climaxes...👀 So no way can I guess what another author would do. But in terms of build up to major plot points, those are my thoughts.

Thanks for the question! :)

[m-y-fandoms]

Blood on Our Stage - Vampire Nagito Komaeda x Human Female Reader -Part 1 (Slight/Platonic Female Reader x Hajime Hinata)

So, this is an old fic I updated to fit these characters because I want to continue it :)

NEEDED CONTEXT FOR THIS AU: Hajime and Nagito are step brothers, (Y/N)/Reader is a human, Hajime and Nagito are vampires, and Hajime did indeed get into the Main Course at Hope’s Peak, for acting.

The paycheck… It's all about the paycheck...

   You took a deep breath, reassuring yourself for what seemed like the hundredth time that year… or that hour.

Smile, s-smile. Breathe, lean into him. It has to look real, (Y/N). God… it’s a whole new level of crackhead when you stutter to yourself in your thoughts.

 Dissociate. 

What are we having for dinner? How many more steps ‘til that damn egg hatches? If it’s another fucking Diglett I swear I’ll go apeshit. 

You shifted to your right, the most forced of grins creeping onto your cosmetic-plastered face. You let your head fall onto Hajime’s shoulder. Convincing right? Touching is convincing. Random gentle displays of affection are convincing... 

By this time, you were nearly blind from the flash of some fifty or so cameras in your face, anyway, so why not just pretend that the photographers and press were blind as well?

  Why not, why not?

 You pretended in every other aspect of your life.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)?" Hajime’s voice shook you out of your trance, and you turned your head, letting go of his arm, which you had grabbed out of habit. His sparklingly white teeth - sharper than the average man's - gleamed down at you, and you felt that usual pang of fear run down your spine and chill your bones. Even attached to the gums of the sweetest boy on earth, you’d never get used to the sight.

It's all a show, (Y/N), a game. Pretend. "Fangs for the fans, and all that" 

How long would that farce last until people started to realize?

  What had Hajime said earlier that month? You retreated into yourself, thinking deeply, trying desperately to calm the anxiety that rose with at the sight of his flesh-tearing canines...

   _______________________________________________________________

"I can bare my fangs at interviews, photoshoots… you know, when the paparazzi are around. It’s what my dad wants,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Don't worry about it, (Y/N). Honestly, you freak out over the silliest things sometimes.” He ruffled your hair. “It will look like I'm dedicated to the role, or something like that… whatever. People will love it, trust me."

      ___________________________________________________________

But you never could. How could you? A monster with a secret, stupidly displaying that secret openly to the world? No… trusting meant removing little stones from that carefully built wall, which sub-sequentially meant getting hurt, and not just emotionally. You recited this mantra to yourself almost routinely; something you’d picked up from someone very close to your heart. Isn’t it funny how we steal little bits of personality from those we love most?

You knew Hajime just followed whatever his father commanded, that he’d do anything to feel like he mattered, that people cared. He’d done all this: the acting lessons, depending on daddy’s money, the unless studying and promoting himself, just to get into that stupid school and kickstart his illustrious career.

"Isn't that right, (Y/N)??" Hajime tenderly brought his hand up, stroking your shoulder awkwardly. The clench in his jaw, however, wasn't friendly at all. You couldn’t really blame him, though. He was doing it for your sake, after all. You had to get through this, and he knew he had to pull you through; everything depended on it.

How could this flock of idiots not tell the “chemistry” was forced???

"Uh… o-of course! Yeah!" You smiled, a fake chuckle escaping your lips, and the crowd of reporters and internet journalists roared in front of you. Of course they did… wasn't everything the disciplined and people-pleasing boy beside you said fucking hilarious? You sighed, returning your gaze to the mass of people below you as you and your leading man sat raised on a platform behind a pretentiously high table.

    Just let Hajime handle all the questions, you thought to yourself indifferently. You always did. They rarely directed them at you specifically, anyway. So much for your dream: to stun the world as an independent starlet, a crimson-hot femme fatale. It was always ‘Hinata Hajime’s doe-eyed leading lady!’, ‘Hajime’s little love interest!’, never ‘(Y/N) (L/N)... featuring Hajime Hinata!’ But... you were famous, and with no little chunk of change to boot… you should’ve been thankful… right?

So why weren’t you…?

  Your eyes scanned the faces before you, and you realized that you hadn't… really looked at them until now. Yes, the usual prolific online bloggers and huge theatre junkies were there, and Mr. Hinata of course. He wouldn't miss out on one of his company’s press meetings for the world, especially with his money-making beloved son in the spotlight. He was so anal, how could anything possibly go off without a hitch unless he was there?

You wondered if the girl next to him knew he was a ravenous monster as well, but thought better of it. Of course, she didn't know. You shouldn't have even known. But you did, and it plagued you every day of your life.

  Fuck... you just wanted to go back to your room and overthink in peace. It was embarrassingly uncomfortable to do so in public

Mr. Hinata sat sternly upright, with his polished, slick hair, in his polished, slick shoes and extravagantly tailored navy suit, his secretary at his side, brushing his hand unnoticeably between the chairs. His wife would never care, anyway. To their right sat a rosy-cheeked intern, spunky and full of character. Holding a clipboard between perfectly painted nails, the only thing that spoke louder than her bright smile was her neon miniskirt. She must not have known, either. No human simply knew, and still managed to look that innocent and lively. The PR girls loved press conferences, and each new show only yielded fresh publicity. This most recent show, set to premiere the following night, was a tale of romance: A vampire lord and his human lover: a medieval era period piece. Of course, for this reason, Hajime did nothing to hide his all-too-real fangs. 

You loved a good historical romance, and loved being in one even more. It had always been your goal as a starting actress to take the lead in at least one period play, be it Victorian, colonial, medieval.. but... it had not turned out quite the way you planned...

   A few other members of the Hinata family accompanied their revered head of  the household… or was it head of the clan… coven? Whatever, it was expected. The murderous bloodsuckers always clung to their leader’s side, and could always be found lurking around Hinata’s estate, if they weren’t already crammed up his ass looking for approval.

A flash came from the reporter to the left, directly into your vision, and left you dazed.

 Fuck… you seethed internally. Calm down. Calm down. The paycheck. That's it. This is almost over, anyway. Why did you always find yourself spacing out at the worst possible times? You acknowledged that it was how your body coped with the overwhelming urge to break down, but damn if it wasn’t inconvenient at the minute. Nothing screamed ‘I have something to hide’ like acting shady in front of a hundred people…

You leaned into Hajime again. Sell the relationship. Sell the love.

You exhaled in exhaustion. It wasn’t that you didn’t love Hajime… you did, just, not like this. Never like this. Lying to millions of fans and the press, pretending Hajime was anything other than a brother-like figure to you just to line his father’s pockets, tore you apart more than keeping his immortality a secret. Denying you both a chance at real love for fear of scandal… you were sure that there was no phrase you’d ever grow to hate more than “The Hinata Theatre Company!” Ironic, wasn’t it, that at one point in time, you begged to be here?

You found that scoping out a crowd lowered the anxiety you had about actually being in front of them. It's funny, many people asked how you could possibly be afraid of crowds or public speaking when you were a damn Broadway-level star. Your answer was always the same: your rush of adrenaline and passion for theatre got you through a show, but anywhere else but on that stage, and a crowd turned your mind to jelly. It was different… walking out for a performance tamed the butterflies that flew around inside your stomach.

  Of course, there was always the fact that your boss could tear you apart at a moment’s notice that contributed to the anxiety, but you obviously couldn't share that little bit of information with anyone. It was all so hard to process, that this kind young man beside you could be something so fearsome, that your whole life was a public sham. You’d never forget the day you’d found out… how it changed everything. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of your best friend, you just shouldn’t. But how could you ever truly trust him again?

Your eyes bounced once, twice around the room.

  ...No

   You gasped, breath catching in your throat as your eyes caught on something that caused you to jump slightly in your seat.

"You ok?" Hajime whispered, the crowd going noticeably silent for a moment. Mr. Hinata glared in your direction. A silent warning, reminding you that even one wrong move made his company look bad, and that would not end so well for you. That was the shining aspect of Hajime’s personality, that he was nothing like his father.

"Yeah, y-yeah," you spoke airily, cheeks heating. "I just slipped to the edge of my seat a little, almost fell!" You lied timidly, a small laugh.

They'll eat that shit up. Soft-spoken, innocent, clumsy girls are all the rage! Of course, Hajime picked up on the lie immediately, catching the change in tone, the skipping of your heartbeat. Being an immortal freak had its perks.

The bright-eyed boy beside you patted your arm, the crowd chuckling politely before returning to their bombardment of questions.

Your eyes flew back to the corner of the room, back to the object that had you startled in the first place. You tried to tell yourself you’d imagined it, but there was no mistake,

 It was him...

 Standing there in the entranceway, so dimly lit, he hid in the alcove. There was no mistaking his favorite jacket, the fabric ripped and weathered from use. There was no mistaking the intricate, almost root-like pale green veins which spiraled up his arms, told a story across his milky collarbone, tumbled down his wrists, and made him all the more intimidating. Intoxicating. There was no mistaking that full head of tousled hair, brightly standing out even in the meager lighting in that disregarded corner of the room, messy whisps branching out dangerously; an air of nonchalance and bored irreverence. Smug bastard…

And there was absolutely no mistaking the way those bright eyes illuminated his white skin in contrast, a frightening and ethereal glow shooting off of him in waves. Hajime’s chestnut-brown eyes never mimicked that terrifying iridescence, but then again, Hajime never took his life-sustaining drink from a human host. Your hands began to subconsciously shake. From fear or the itching desire to… you didn’t know, throw your arms around him, touch his cheek just once... ? You never knew with him. He was a wild thing, a beast untamable. But why the hell was he here?

Carelessly he leaned against the door frame. His tongue shot out predatorily, running along his lower lip in one fluid motion. His knuckles raised, brushing against the green of his coat and coming up to scratch the side of his face.

❘ What are you doing here?! ❘ You sent your thoughts out in waves so loud you might as well have been screaming. You knew immediately that he had taken them in, absorbing your mental cursing and inner toil like sun rays. It was a power and privilege only those of his kind who were purebred enjoyed.

He did not answer, but merely tilted his head, the corner of his lip rising in that maddening grin he always threw at you. An impish smirk hiding mischief and chaotic intentions, you were sure.

You knew it would be mere moments ‘til your flawless "boyfriend" beside you noticed his presence as well, and you feared what might become of this night that was supposed to be of celebration. Almost as if on cue, Hajime’s words halted to a stop. That evil smirk only widened, a small snort shaking the intruder’s chest.

"Nagito..." Hajime murmured through clenched teeth, his hand shooting down to grab your wrist. "He's here."

  "I know..." your words shook, just loud enough for any non-human in the room to hear. Now it was time for you to be Hajime’s rock. Nagito's head bobbed, looking down at his old ripped jeans, and you saw Mr. Hinata's eye twitch before you, his vampiric hearing triggered immediately upon hearing your quiet exchange with Hajime.

Mr. Hinata followed your eyes to the back of the room, his fiery glare landing on the face of his eldest and only step-son in the shadows.

Was it too late to run back into the dressing room and never come out?

You could feel the tension in the air, a line of electricity connecting the three vampires like mental twine, ready to break at any moment. It was like watching three animals square off, sizing up their threat on a National Geographic documentary. The other Hinata coven members, all also fierce bloodsuckers in their own right, merely sat forward politely, sensing Nagito's aura but knowing better than to give him the time of day. After all, alerting the press to his presence would certainly not be a wise way to stay on Mr. Hinata’s good side.

  No one outside of the family even knew about the existence of the elder brother. He was an embarrassment, a stain on Mr. Hinata’s designer tie. In the packed room, he looked so out of place, with dark, torn clothes in a sea of try-hard collared shirts and dresses. Sure, everyone who was anyone in the media world had turned up for this interview, and would also return for the opening night the next day, but everyone who was anyone never included Nagito. He made sure of that. He just had to stick out, be different, didn’t he? Even among a bunch of immortal freaks, boy… was he a freak. 

Oh no, mommy remarried some rich man then got herself killed, better act like a little ungrateful little prick. Woe is me, I have super good luck that is sometimes super bad! No one understands me!!!

He sickened you, the way he did his best to destroy what he and Hajime’s family had built, all in the name of his backwards and twisted idea of “hope.” As if he didn't live like a prince because of the Hinatas’ hard work. Don’t get it twisted, you hated Mr. Hinata and would love to see the Hinata empire burn, but this company, the desire to be recognized and worth something, was all that held dear Hajime up. It was his only dream, and he deserved it. Nagito didn’t have a right to tear Mr. Hinata down if he had to wreck Hajime to do it.

     He disgusted you, you’d decided months back, to make it all easier on yourself. Everything he’d done, the trouble he’d caused, the hurt he’d caused so many people. Routinely, you reinforced to yourself that you hated Nagito Komaeda

   ...You were disgusted by the way you… just... couldn’t hate him. It didn’t feel right. Something felt… wrong in hating him.

  Your heart lurched, meeting his eyes again.

Why not? Why not just hate him, (Y/N)? Like everyone else…

Why was it so hard? You were supposed to be with Hajime. And Hajime hated Nagito. Everyone who knew Nagito hated Nagito. But… telling yourself you were anything but infatuated with that dangerous creature… was a lie. You owed everything, good and bad, to that feral, insane man.

Your nerves and the hairs on your arms pricked up like an agitated cat. Why why why? Why would he even do this? He knew what showing up here would start. He was born to start shit, to brew altercation, to cook up conflict. Maybe you should give him the benefit of the doubt? Perhaps he finally came to an event to support his darling step-brother, but the way he bore his fangs when his eyes met Hajime’s said otherwise.

❘ Leave. Just Leave. You're just here to antagonize me and I won't let you be a problem. Not today. This is my day… ❘ Hajime spat mentally, and his thoughts burned through your own and, you're sure, Nagito’s.

❘ Aren’t all the days yours, Your Majesty? ❘ Nagito’s thoughts were more severe, yet more playful, taunting, careless, a venomous snarl behind every synapse pulse.

❘ ...Leave. ❘ Hajime pulsed back in warning.

❘ ....Or what? ❘ Nagito’s own ominous threat reverberated through your cranium. You pressed a hand to your temple, an angry, stinging sensation pulsating through your head. Having a vampire read one’s mind was uncomfortable enough: feeling the slight probing and perhaps needing an aspirin after, but being the third line in a purebred pissing match… it was a call you desperately wanted to hang up on. But.. humans didn’t naturally hear a vampire’s thoughts on accident. No, you were hearing this conversation because you were meant to, someone wanted you to. You had no powers of your own, but Nagito kept you trapped in this nonverbal battle, strung up betwixt two immortal minds. You brought the back of your free hand up to your nose, wiping away a stripe of red vitality that began to flow from both nostrils. The panging inside, the angry shouting in your mind only got louder.

[ave-on-main]

Nightwing #78: Alfred’s Investment

Let’s talk about money, folks.

I knew Dick would get money from Alfred before I even read my copy of Nightwing #78. Reviews teased it. The solicitations (of #79) teased it.

But I didn’t read it as Alfred gave every single penny of his fortune to Dick. And after reading the Issue multiple times, I still don’t. I think it’s left ambiguous, and I think the reason why Alfred left Dick the money is important.

So, let’s get into the whole thing.

Alfred’s Will: The Legal Stuff 

First of Dick doesn’t read Alfred’s will to the reader. The will is on Oracle’s screen. We never get privy to the actual content. We get told that Alfred was a billionaire, not that Dick is one too now.

Barbara informs Dick that the other members of the bat family are already privy to the contents of the will. She has been chosen to execute it.

Babs is amused by Dick’s shock when he reads the will, but she doesn’t tease him for suddenly being super-rich or laments the others’ reactions. Babs isn’t the person to remain silent when she thinks an unfair or ridiculous judgment has been made. If Dick really got all of Alfred’s fortune, she would say at least something. Tom Taylor has already shown that he writes her like that in this very Issue (see security system, bully).

I would also like to mention, that Alfred’s will has appeared before. In the one-shot Batman: Pennyworth R.I.P. 

Readers don’t get much information about the legal stuff in that story either. The only reason we know that the will was read is this tidbit:

So, the will existed before Taylor used it. Pennyworth R.I.P came out in February last year. That means thirteen months lie between the releases of Nightwing #78 and R.I.P.

Other writers could have used the will and fleshed it out. They didn’t.

Alfred’s Letter: The Personal Edge

When Barbara gives Dick the letter, she says it will explain why Alfred left Dick money. This is the excerpt in which Alfred specifically mentions the fortune he leaves Dick:

What I noticed here is that Alfred never writes “my fortune“. It’s “the fortune“. Even in a sentence in which “my” would fit (as in this one: “I couldn’t think of better hands to leave this fortune in.”)

The “I invested much of this [...] and had planned to find a place where it would do the most good.“ paired with the “I planned to come to you for advice.“, looks to me as if that “it” is not all of Alfred’s money. “It” is a specific if very large amount of investment money, that Alfred was going to talk about to Dick either way.

I know a lot of readers point to Dick being Ric as one of the reasons why Alfred gave such a huge sum of money to him. But we don’t actually know Alfred changed the letter while Ric existed. Sure, Alfred implies Dick wasn’t available (“I planned to come to you”), and it’s stated that Alfred writes a letter every year, but... Dick getting shot by KGBeast was “a few months ago” (See Nightwing #75). Maybe Alfred wrote it while Dick was Ric. Maybe he wrote it while Dick was in a coma.

The point is Alfred doesn’t give the money to Dick for Dick.

He wants Dick to invest it just as he did “wisely and morally“. He wants it to be where it can do “the most good.“And why did he choose Dick? Because Dick will handle the fortune the way Alfred whats it to be handled.

Conclusion

Dick got an outrageously big chunk of Alfred’s fortune, and it makes sense that he does. Alfred gives his reason right in the letter. He trusts Dick’s judgment the most.

The thing is, Alfred doesn’t have the same relationship with all the bats. Alfred’s and Dick’s relationship in particular has for a long time been special (Some Compiled Canon Moments).

Even in the most recent Issues like Pennyworth R.I.P. itself and Nightwing #75, their relationship is portrayed as differing. When Damian, Tim, Jason, and Barbara tell stories about how Alfred helped them, the story Bruce tells after being asked by Ric what Dick’s story would be (because Ric can’t really tell a story himself, can he?) it’s about Alfred and Dick helping each other. When Dick stands in front of Alfred’s grave he says “I didn’t remember how important you were to me. That you practically raised me when Bruce took me in.“ Alfred raising Dick isn’t anything new either.

And, it’s not on Tom Taylor to give money to anyone but Dick. He doesn’t write the Batman title that can just influence any book however it sees fit. That’s why he didn’t show the will and why there are no indicators for how much Dick actually gets.

It’s also not Taylor that forgot Julia Pennyworth exists (she didn’t appear in Pennyworth R.I.P. at all). That’s on the writers and editors that have worked on the bat titles since Alfred’s death. The same people that introduced his will and then did nothing with it.

[shihalyfie]

Ichijouji Ken, his future, and Kizuna

Having talked about Kizuna’s extremely deep relationship to 02 as a series, it’s only natural that I should probably spend some extra focus on its main central character, Ichijouji Ken. It’s no secret that, although Daisuke was the protagonist of 02, Ken was the central figure to the series itself (after all, the series was founded on the concept of deconstructing the supposed “genius kid”), and so Kizuna having such a deep relationship with 02 means that it does, inevitably, have a deep relationship with Ken in particular.

The last twenty years have been full of a plethora of meta analysis on Ichijouji Ken as a character within 02 to the point I feel anything I could possibly come up with would probably be redundant, so today I’d like to place extra focus on his development after 02 (in terms of both canonical materials and general analysis), and how it leads up to his portrayal in the recently released Kizuna. (Naturally, spoilers for the movie will be below.)

We’ll start this analysis by looking at where Ken left off during the final episode of 02.

Thanks to his interactions with the rest of the 02 crew (especially Daisuke), Ken was slowly putting his life back together, but he still had a long way to go. As late as episode 49, we learned he still had suicidal ideation tendencies in regards to his deeds as the Kaiser, and although the rest of the team did get through to him in the end, it was clear that there was still a huge path ahead of him as far as coming to terms with himself and bonding with the rest of the team went. This was especially because he ended the series with the Dark Seed still in the back of his neck -- supernatural forces may have assisted his initial downfall, but it was going to be entirely on him to make sure that he never went back there again for the rest of his life.

One thing that’s really important to put in perspective is the actual chronology this ordeal took place in. Although the Kaiser saga spanned a little under half of the yearlong series that 02 was, Christmas skewed the schedule a little bit, so a good chunk of the second half of the series actually took place in much more condensed time than the first. Taking into account the official statement that everything before Christmas roughly aligns with the time of the year the relevant episode aired, and given the exact dates in December that we know episodes 38-50 take place in, within the course of 02, Ken’s reformation from being the Kaiser and bonding with the group spanned around only four months. That is not a lot of time, especially compared to the roughly two-year period Ken went through the trauma of his brother’s loss and his transformation into the Kaiser, so in actuality, Ken made a huge amount of progress considering how little time he had to do so.

Before we continue, I should make clear that I generally count pretty much everything in the Toei-esque fashion of “everything is canon, don’t think about contradictions too hard” (which is generally their modus operandi with pretty much any franchise), so pretty much everything here is fair game. That said, obviously, contradictions and other outliers do exist, so occasionally I am going to have to omit stuff that really, really doesn’t track...so for the sake of this analysis, I’m skipping Armor Evolution to the Unknown for two reasons: one, because it takes massive liberties with characterization for the sake of crack (it’s pretty hard to believe Ken would be this degree of flippant about the Kaiser persona in a more serious situation), and two, because it was written before 02 finished airing (it was released between episodes 43 and 44) and doesn’t reflect a lot of series and characterization development that happened later in the series. (Armor Evolution to the Unknown was released during a time period when the drama CDs were really, really big on the crack -- the three Adventure mini dramas are the same -- and it wasn’t until later that actual “serious” ones would start coming out.)

Given that, our next canonical point we can work with is Diablomon Strikes Back, which takes place in March 2003.

At this point Ken’s recovery is at a little around six months, and he’s making massive progress -- even if you’re not sure about counting the actual events of this movie as canon, it’s an excellent character study in terms of watching Ken’s emotional recovery at this point in time and his relationship with Daisuke, now that he’s not directly dealing with issues pertaining to his own past trauma.

It’s already a very different Ken from the one we’ve seen in the original series, where in episode 38 the idea of him laughing was such a huge shock, but here we already see a much wider emotional range from Ken -- light cheerfulness, playfulness, and at times even a bit of petulance. His actions and dialogue still have Ken’s trademark “softness” -- being kind and gentle has always been said to be his core inner trait, after all -- but, nevertheless, he’s a lot more willing to show “superficial” emotions, especially compared to how closed up, shy, and sometimes standoffish he would be within 02 proper.

Even Ken’s own body language indicates a lot -- he’s much more relaxed and  natural. Observe how he slouches here.

In fact, if you listen to Park Romi’s delivery of his lines throughout this movie, she voices him with a significantly higher-pitched and “lighter”, soft tone through all of it, which really gives off the impression that he’s much less emotionally uptight.

We get a glimpse of Daisuke and Ken’s future dynamic and how they’ll continue to be such tight friends in the future -- Ken is someone who can keep the infamously chaotic Daisuke in check (especially since prior to Ken coming into his life, Daisuke’s closest friend was probably Miyako, and while the two certainly got along very well with each other, they had a tendency to enable each other’s chaos a bit too much at times).

But despite Ken obviously trying to be more sensible than Daisuke here, it still manifests as a much greater show of emotion than the kind you’d be used to within 02 proper. He’s much more assertive with putting his foot down in keeping Daisuke under control, which indicates not only a more comfortable relationship with Daisuke in particular, but also a general increase in his ability to be assertive.

In one of his most famous scenes in this movie, he actually outright taunts Daisuke in order to spur him on. He’s doing it totally affectionately (it’s specifically to give Daisuke more motivation to keep running), but nevertheless, he’s taunting Daisuke -- not really something you'd expect from Ken in 02 proper. The original line in Japanese even has him use the very super-casual and aggressive end particle ~ze.

He even snarks about Daisuke’s convenient bouts of luck in ways that aren’t exactly complimentary (the literal phrasing of this line has “baka mitai ni” in it, in this context "some kind of ridiculous incredible power”).

And, near the end of the movie, when he starts to lose hope, it only takes a single line from Daisuke to get himself back together -- this kind of thing would have probably taken a whole speech in 02, even from Daisuke himself, but by this point Ken’s got a much better emotional grasp on himself.

And in the end, the movie ends on both Daisuke and Ken laughing together -- very lightly.

It’s easy to pass off Ken’s characterization in DSB as an incidental thing simply because this is a “side story” movie from 02 -- especially since it was technically produced during 02′s airing -- but in fact, this portrayal is consistent with what Ken has to say about himself during his next known point in canon, Spring 2003.

Given that Takeru’s track is apparently set “three months” after Christmas, and Miyako’s track talks about having just entered middle school, I assume that this means Ken’s takes place in around late March or early April 2003 (almost exactly a year since 02′s start), but in actuality nothing really “happens” during Ken’s track. Nevertheless, it provides a lot of information on Ken’s state of mind during this time and his own self-reflection on his past...and defines in very clear words what it is that Ken needs to move away from.

You were always in a bad mood and you were cold to me, but now that I think about it, maybe you really wanted to be nicer to other people. I don’t know what happened to you that made you act like you did, but now, I finally feel like I understand a bit. You were demanded to grow up fast, weren’t you, Brother? Because we were always being evaluated and compared by someone, we didn’t get a chance to have more freedom. We didn’t have any chances to run down an alley because we felt like it, or pull up weeds, or tumble around… meaningless things, things that didn’t bring any value to us at all. Just like the cat napping on the roof… we weren’t able to fully enjoy any everlasting freedom.

02 -- especially its latter half -- dealt largely with the concept of parents imposing too many expectations on their children, acting “proud” of them but actually using them to inflate their own self-worth, and in the end effectively robbing their own children of their right to “be children”. While we don’t know a lot about Osamu based on limited information about him, Ken’s parents also lament that they might have robbed Osamu of the opportunity to be a “normal boy” in 02 episode 23.

Once Ken took the role of the “family genius” after Osamu’s death, Ken was thus likewise robbed of that “normal childhood” due to all of the expectations put on him -- and Ken’s words in his track imply that it extended to before Osamu’s death, because just because Osamu was the favored one at the time didn’t mean that Ken wasn’t subject to the same kind of expectations to at least some degree, even if not as much. (Note how he really didn’t seem to have any kind of friends at all prior to Daisuke and the others.)

Thus, Ken’s ideal trajectory is to become “a normal child” -- one not subject to expectations as a “well-behaved genius child”. That applies not only to things like his academic or sports performance, but also even his core manners -- being a “normal person” in this context meaning being allowed to show emotions, be petty, have emotional range that extends beyond just being deferential and polite, and generally do things because he enjoys them and not because others expect him to. This is consistent with his portrayal in DSB, as in said movie he really does come off as a “normal boy” -- a young child who, while certainly less chaotic than Daisuke, is still enjoying himself and interacting with the world in “his own” natural, relaxed way rather than holding himself to obligations.

Another interesting thing about DSB is that it has Ken refer to Daisuke by given name. This is particularly intriguing because up until the end of 02, Ken consistently referred to Daisuke as “Motomiya” (he did use given name in episode 39, but it wasn’t something he really followed up on). This despite the fact he went with given names (plus honorifics) for everyone else in the 02 team, but it seems like Ken was still trying to figure out his very complicated feelings about Daisuke as someone who was his Most Hated Person™ during his Kaiser days and yet is now trying to aggressively reach through his barriers that he’s constructed out of self-defense.

And yet, extremely notably, almost every single post-02 material is consistent about the idea that Ken switches to given name basis with Daisuke after 02. (The only exception is Armor Evolution to the Unknown, which, as stated before, was written and recorded during 02′s airing and not after; notably, Daisuke is also on surname basis with Ken during that drama CD, even though he permanently switches to given name basis after episode 39.) That includes “out-of-hard-canon” things like Xros Wars episode 78.

Yet they still couldn’t remember to put the highlight back in Ken’s eyes, among other things.

Honorific and surname-given name basis fluctuated quite a bit in both Adventure and 02 (especially whenever canon material changed hands between writers), but for all intents and purposes, there is no reason Daisuke and Ken should not be on mutual given name basis after 02. This is especially when you take into account the more naturalistic relationship they have as of DSB -- there’s no standoffishness at all between them anymore.

This ties very deeply into how 02 portrayed its characters. One thing I’ve very, very often pointed out was that it was always an explicit point of contrast between themselves and the original Adventure team was that the 02 kids were not only “friends” in terms of fighting together on Digimon cases, but “friends” in the sense of actual social-life friends who clicked well in personality and adored each other’s company. (Part of this was because of the core theme of the series; Jogress being such a huge motif, “understanding your friends” took precedence over Adventure’s “understanding yourself”.) These are the kids who hung out together in the totally-not-related-to-any-Digimon-incident (at least, not at first) picnic in episode 6 and Christmas party in episode 38, a stark comparison to the Adventure kids who infamously started drifting as early as Our War Game!.

(Note that this isn’t meant to diminish or drop shade on the Adventure kids’ bonds in any way -- I feel like their bond is more of one that’s a “transcendent” one that crosses space and links them through their shared experience, but, nevertheless, is simply not the same in nature as the “social life” bonds the 02 kids had where they were very casual and yet intimate with each other in almost all daily life respects.)

As a result, Daisuke and Ken’s relationship ended up very different from that of their predecessors Taichi and Yamato -- it’s actually hard to imagine them getting in all that many highly heated fights in the same way their seniors would be prone to, and they’d generally be on “mild banter” terms for most of it. In fact, they come off as pretty casual and in-sync with each other, and it’s to the point where it really does feel like -- especially by the point of DSB -- staying on “standoffish” surname basis really is unwarranted.

And while it’s tempting to limit Ken’s relationship to only Daisuke, this did involve the rest of the 02 group, after all -- we got significant episodes defining his relationship to the others (Miyako got a whole episode in 25, and 30′s entire events kicked off because of an attempt to get him to better socialize with Iori!), and the 02 kids as a cohesive “overall group” were integral in getting Ken to open up and show different sides of himself. Although his relationship to certain team members ended up closer than others (Daisuke and Miyako, the ones who tried most aggressively to reach out to him, ended up getting the most out of him), nevertheless, it was important that Ken ultimately cultivated a relationship with a group of friends, and not just one.

This, of course, brings us to Kizuna, which takes place in the summer of 2010. This is a massive leap of time we don’t know a lot about, and for all it’s worth, this means we have, compared to the approximately two years Ken spent suffering under the influence of the Dark Seed, a whole eight years dedicated to potential recovery. There’s a lot that could have happened during that time, and what happened in between, we can only really guess.

Well, for one, he cut his hair.

The reveal of Ken’s design for Kizuna was a huge shock for those watching, because, among all of the twelve main human characters in Kizuna, he probably has the biggest and most drastic design change -- especially because his long hair was so iconic that even the epilogue depicted him with it (and even longer, at that). Were it not for other important identifiers like Wormmon’s presence and the fact said hair is at least still indigo blue, you’d almost wonder if it’s the same character.

(I do have to at least give props to this Animedia poster, though -- that soft and concerned expression is textbook Ken-chan, so it absolutely nails the vibe that it’s the same character despite the massive design change, and it even has a small cute detail that, despite clearly trying to calm Yamato down in haste, he’s still tidy enough to lay his chopsticks neatly on the bowl. That Ken has a habit of doing this while eating hot ramen is a very specific minor blink-and-you’ll-miss-it detail in 02 episode 36, and while I’d normally pass this off as coincidence, Kizuna and its PR has had such ridiculous attention to detail that I’m not entirely willing to.)

Not only that, his actual outfit in the movie is rather unassuming -- it’s just a black shirt, pants, and a belt, compared to the more distinctive/fashionable or setting-immersive outfits everyone else has. I mean, it sure beats that godawful grey gakuran he was constantly wearing during 02, but there were certainly a lot of complaints about how...well, unassuming and plain he looks.

The thing is, though, this is very much in line with how Ken would most likely want to present himself. When you think about it, Ken himself would probably not really appreciate his fanbase status as the “sad pretty boy”; having been scrutinized, evaluated, and put on uncomfortable pedestals through all of his early life, “blending in” and coming off as an average, unassuming person would be right up his alley.

Anyway, before we get into Kizuna itself, we have the drama CD that came with its BD, Where Should We Go? While it was released after the movie, in chronological timeline, it serves as a slight prequel, and what we learn about Ken in it is certainly...interesting. Namely, that he’s apparently a hardcore fan of Japanese hot springs. And not just a hardcore fan of them, but also a complete nerd.

The hot springs *obviously* must have free-flowing water. If possible, I think I’d prefer a quiet, rural flowing hot spring that’s surrounded by a moss-covered garden. Then I want to stay the night at a historical inn that focuses more on tranquility and wabi-sabi rather than wildness or beauty. I’m not looking for a lot on the food options, but the portions should ideally be neither too large nor too small. If we’re just going to relax our bodies, then I’d like it if there was a variety of hot springs to choose from. The water quality that I recommend for the ladies would be the hydrogen carbonate spring or the alkaline simple hot spring (these are otherwise known as simple hot springs with a basic pH of 8.5 or above), but my personal favorite is the hot sulphur spring! Incidentally, the hot sulphur spring is said to treat arteriosclerosis and high blood pressure. If it were possible, I’d like to take my time there… At least stay for two nights! Ahh… Hot springs… Hehehe…

I cannot stress enough how much the audio delivery for this depicts him as being terrifyingly into it. It’s also...not exactly the most fashionable thing for a nineteen-year-old to be into (actually, it’s more of a stereotype old man thing, what with the fixation on traditional Japanese aesthetics and health nut aspects), but we have Ken being very shameless and assertive about his personal interests, even if they’re a bit unusual.

Funnily enough, this isn’t actually the first time he was demonstrated to be a huge infodumping nerd -- it’s just that the last instance was questionably canonical, but tracks extremely heavily with what was just demonstrated here. Namely, Daisuke and Ken’s Shopping Carol:

Listen, the thing about Christmas is that it's one of the most important days in the world... It was the day the Savior was born... So, you go to church and pray... Of course, you knew all of that right?

Or in other words, he interrupts Daisuke’s wistful thoughts with The Actual Nerd Facts, because he’s a nerd. He even has a bit of a smart-aleck atmosphere...and then he cheerfully and sassily dumps all of the work on Daisuke thereafter. While the canonicity for this song is hard to place since it was released during 02′s airing (and 02 itself depicted a very different Christmas), plus the ambiguity of character song canon in general, it’s interesting how Ken’s portrayal here is pretty surprisingly in line with what we’re learning about his future personality.

The rest of what we see of Ken in the drama CD is what we generally knew about him already -- he’s kind, he dotes on Wormmon (he even indulges Wormmon’s request to take him skiing!), and he still keeps up with being into intellectual studies, and even soccer (he’s described as actually keeping up with soccer to the extent he does training camp), because he was always interested in those kinds of things -- it’s just that now he can indulge in them in ways he personally likes instead of being held to other people’s standards.

But he’s also very emotional, passionate, and openly assertive -- something he could be in 02, but only when it was something he really, really cared about, because most of the time he was a little more on the shy side with others. Not anymore. And he’s happy to indulge in the chaotic trip planning and enable the others, and, at the end, gives some sentimental words to Daisuke, his best friend.

Anyway, onto the movie itself!

Notably, they do not mention Ken’s past trauma nor his deeds as the Kaiser throughout the entire movie.

That might surprise people, given that this was...well, central to the entire plot of 02, so it’s arguably a glaring omission that despite having the 02 cast here, it’s not even brought up once. The only real “reference” to it is this scene, where Ken happens to be the one who knows about Menoa’s background as a child prodigy -- and even then it’s uncertain whether this had anything to do with said traumatic events (Menoa was admitted to Liberica in 2002 itself) as much as it’s a meta nod to Ken having a suspiciously similar background and the fact he and Menoa were based on the same real-life story (the nine-year-old boy who skipped grades into Columbia University).

But, again, recall that Ken has had eight years to move on from the events of 02, more time than said events had actually spanned over. That doesn’t mean he’s easily going to forget that trauma, nor that said events don’t still have an impact on him, but rather that a true positive development for him should have him not having to consciously dwell on it if it’s not necessary, and that his friends of now eight years should probably not be still holding it over him at a time like this.

After all, 02 itself was dedicated to scolding this kind of behavior -- not being “stuck in the past” (which, well, also happens to be a very pertinent theme when it comes to Kizuna...) was basically the entire point of the latter half, and so it stands to reason that Ken, and by extension the rest of the 02 cast, would be more focused on what they’re doing now instead of what happened back then.

In the absence of any references to said past, Ken in the actual movie ends up coming off as a bit unremarkable and plain compared to the three friends who end up surrounding him, all of whom have much more extreme personalities (the chaotic and exuberant Daisuke and Miyako, and the comically poker-faced Iori). But you get the feeling that he’s perfectly fine being that way -- rather, he’s enjoying getting all of his fun from his exciting friends, without feeling a need to spice things up himself.

So when we finally do meet Ken for the first time in Kizuna, he’s cheerfully eating ramen with Daisuke and Iori in New York (which, for all it’s worth, is probably really questionably legal, considering that Adventure’s world of 2010 likely still hasn’t figured out how to deal with that whole thing with “immigration and customs” as it pertains to Digital Gates.) Emphasis on cheerfully. He’s as tidy as ever (note how he still properly keeps his chopsticks between his fingers and cleans up after himself, albeit not as well as Iori), and he’s obviously more straight-laced than Daisuke or Miyako, but he isn’t really hiding the fact he’s also totally enjoying this. He didn’t even know why they were there for ramen in New York in the first place, but he just rolled with wherever Daisuke took him.

Recall that, according to their official profiles, these three go to completely different schools now -- Iori’s in high school, Daisuke’s at vocational school getting a chef’s license, and Ken’s in university studying psychology. (Which, by the way, is not brought up at all throughout the movie nor the drama CD! It’s easy to glean how his past experiences might give him an interest in the topic, and it’ll certainly be a valuable background to have for his future known career in criminal investigation, but despite Ken previously having had a reputation for being studious, it’s not brought up at all -- almost as if hanging out with his friends and having fun with them is more important and pertinent.) The drama CD even points out that Ken would normally be busy with soccer training camp. Yet they’re hanging out. In New York. Eating ramen. So, Yamato, what were you saying about how “choosing your own path can sometimes mean being alienated from friends”? If anything, these friends seem to be going out of their way to make sure they’re staying tight.

And, as you’d expect, Ken refers to Daisuke by given name, following DSB’s precedent. Again, given the nature of their relationship right now, this should be expected. There’s other evidence that Kizuna does use DSB as reference in certain other respects as well (Takeru calls Yamato “niisan”, which had previously been exclusive to that movie), and it’s very possible that Ken as portrayed in that movie was used as reference for his potential trajectory here.

Note that he seems to be even more outwardly affectionate with Wormmon than before (which is, shockingly, apparently possible) -- he still feeds his partner before feeding himself (similar to what he did in 02 episode 37), but now he also shamelessly carries Wormmon on his head, which he never did in 02. Perhaps it’s because he’s tall enough to carry the weight, but unlike with Takeru and Patamon, Wormmon is big enough that the sight is honestly comical -- yet Ken couldn’t care less, and while we don’t see him in his own school, it’s a sharp contrast to how Taichi and Yamato scoffed at the idea of bringing their partners to school because they “have their own lives to live”.

(A nice touch is Ken carrying Minomon from his arm, which actually comes from a very obscure piece of 02 concept art -- you can find it in the Character Complete File or the Animation Chronicle -- but was never depicted in the series proper. The Kizuna design works in the April 2020 edition of Animedia actually recreated that piece of art with Ken in the exact same position, only as a nineteen-year-old this time, which was an incredibly welcome thing to see.)

He greets Miyako upfront when she arrives, which doesn’t look like much on its face, but recall that this probably wouldn’t have happened during 02 proper -- not even with Daisuke! -- and, at the very least, not with this very casual “hey!” tone. It means a lot in terms of how much more casual of a person he’s been able to become in the last eight years, and how much more casual he is with this group (well, at least with Miyako). Takeru also greets Wormmon in the drama CD, and Wormmon seems pretty unusually happy to see Hawkmon when they meet each other there, certainly implying a lot of interpersonal interaction since.

Miyako meets up with them (and, going back to how tight these kids are, Miyako would come in all the way from Spain to meet her friends even for the exact same job that she dumped on her seniors), and they end up infiltrating Menoa’s office. He gets in a line of snark, especially because the Shueisha Mirai novel indicates he’s deliberately “looking the other way” in regards to worrying about security -- looks like he’s developing some Lawful tendencies, but in the end, his friends and getting to the bottom of the real truth take priority.

And, also, it’s still pretty clear he’s totally taking the opportunity to enjoy this.

So what does this all mean, really? He’s taking a fairly passive attitude with his abundantly more chaotic friends, but he’s also not protesting, and he’s enjoying everything he can out of it. He’s a bit quieter than he was in DSB, but that could easily just be from being older and a bit more mature, and he hardly comes off as reserved, either (it helps that Daisuke doesn’t quite resort to any antics nearly as ridiculous as he did in DSB, so there’s no need to keep him in check -- yep, even Daisuke got a bit more mature himself). And he’s joining these kids in being possibly some of the most chaotic disaster adults (near-adults?) on this planet, in a sharp contrast to their seniors.

I mentioned earlier in my analysis of Kizuna’s relationship to 02 that Ken is actually a “hidden” foil to Kizuna’s main antagonist, Menoa -- they were both conceived from the same idea Producer Seki had regarding the real-life “genius boy” who ended up going to Columbia University at a young age and, in her opinion, was going to be robbed of a proper childhood experience. 02′s Dark Seed children arc was a major indictment against parents forcing this kind of pressure on children, not only in the sense of pushing them academically but also quashing out their more “childish” dreams for the sake of a more “dignified” outlook and future. Through the events of 02, Ken learned a very personal lesson on not losing his “true self” to the pressure of those expectations, and the meaning of valuing his family and friends instead.

Ken and Menoa, effectively, were originally on the same path, but thanks to the circumstances of 02, Ken managed to avert Menoa’s fate and ended up following his own way. Nevertheless, Ken was largely robbed of a normal kid’s childhood up until the age of eleven, and it stands to reason that, even at the age of nineteen, he might still be trying to make up for all of those fun experiences he never was able to have.

Funny thing about his haircut, too -- this isn’t the first time Ken’s had this haircut, actually. You know when was the last known time he did?

Hm. Coincidence? Maybe. Maybe not.

But unlike Menoa, who decided that it would be better to trap herself in her own distorted view of what “childhood” is, or Oikawa, who ended up clinging dearly to the last reminder he had of what he’d lost from his childhood, Ken ends up dealing with it in a very forward-facing manner. In fact, he’d elucidated his feelings on the issue back in Spring 2003:

There are still a lot of times when I think about how I should have “done this back then.” But I discovered that there are many things I can do over afterwards. I’ll stop counting the things that I can’t do. Because I’m sure there are many things that I can do.

Instead of living in regrets about the past, Ken simply chooses to move forward by making new fun experiences and memories with his friends, befitting those he couldn’t have when he was a kid, and perhaps even enhanced by his newfound freedom as a nineteen-year-old.

During the final battle, we get a few more emotional and assertive shows from Ken -- his concern about Miyako is pretty frantic-sounding, and the fact he steps in so quickly and frantically to help her out by his own will is pretty impressive. And then he definitively declares that they can’t afford to give up -- which is certainly in line with the nobility he had even during 02, but remember when, even in DSB, Daisuke had to be the one to remind him of this? Now he’s the one reassuring his teammates about this, all on his own. When it all comes down to it, his sense of awareness of what he wants and what he wants to do is stronger than ever.

I mentioned in my analysis of Kizuna in relation to 02 that the 02 kids are in a fairly unique position in the movie, thanks to having already practically gone through a lot of the lessons in both 02 and Kizuna, thus leading them to become very lacking in susceptibility to potentially losing their partners anytime soon (and in fact are deliberately portrayed as such). I would say of all of them, Ken is the most representative of this -- being such a direct foil to the movie’s main antagonist, one who actually came dangerously close to making some of the exact same mistakes she did and emerged with his own trauma as a result, the lessons and warnings imparted by the movie are already deeply embedded in his being.

He’s one of the most openly affectionate and intimate with his partner, having already learned the very, very hard way of what happens when you don’t treasure your partner properly. (He’s taking Wormmon jogging with him, which has got to be an awfully uncomfortable setup, but, goddammit, he’s gonna make it work. And if ~With~ is to be believed, he’s been doing this for years now.) He’s still got a Dark Seed in the back of his neck as an eternal reminder to remember who he is, and to acknowledge the love from his family and friends around him instead of succumbing to arbitrary societal expectations. Remember what I said in my earlier analysis about the true reason for partnerships dissolving, and how deeply it was tied to throwing yourself away for the sake of arbitrary standards of adulthood? Ken’s experiences and extremely painful trauma are like a giant do not do this stamp on his face, and although everyone in this cast is naturally human and may have ups and downs or relapses, Ken is possibly one of the last characters one could imagine succumbing to that kind of mistake again.

So we make it to the epilogue, and although Ken’s technical job title as given in the epilogue is literally “police officer” (keisatsukan), his form of dress (plainclothes, not uniform) and his the Character Complete File indicate he’s from the Digimon Special Investigations Unit (tokusoubu), or, in other words, he’s actually a public-servant detective. (So no, the various dubs also going with “detective” are thus not “changes” in this respect.) In short, he investigates scenes of crimes after they happen, and the Character Complete File provides an example in the form of him investigating a dead body found at the river.

This is probably why Kizuna has him major in psychology, because forensic psychology would be a pretty useful skillset for this kind of job, and a university education in general would most certainly be helpful. (The job requirements as per the Japanese system also require a very high level of athleticism and aptitude.) On the other hand, considering what we know about Ken up to Kizuna, there aren’t any indications that he treated this like any kind of major aspiration, and the psychology major makes you think he might have just fallen into this career by a series of accidents -- he took an interest in psychology (and mental health) due to his own experiences, and then decided that “discovering the truth behind things” was up his alley (much like Iori). Even more notably, his position isn’t really described in any history-making terms, not even ones like being “the first” of anything (like Jou), and it feels like he’s doing this to contribute to society in a way he prefers more than he’s trying to accomplish anything world-shattering.

But on the flip side, it’s probably no coincidence that the 02 epilogue portrays him with such a big family. Of course, it also fits with his and Miyako’s family backgrounds (they’d probably want their kids to have siblings, given their own experiences), but since the Dark Seed was described as having its effects countered by acknowledging how much you’re loved, Ken is clearly surrounded by love -- his wife is one of the most openly affectionate people out there, and his kids (or at least his middle child) use the same “Mama” kind of affectionate language Ken shared with his own parents. Once the events of 02 came to a close at the end of 2002, Ken went on a journey of discovering his own self-assertion, personal desires, and fun -- shedding the expectations and societal standards others had of him, and learning to enjoy life in ways he personally enjoys, for his own sake.

[mariaiscrafting]

can i ask why you dislike dream? im not being passive agressive or something lol i am genuinely curious

S’all good, kinda figured you weren’t being, and a lot of people have asked me this lol. There are so many reasons, and I’ve said this so many times already, but I’ll try to go over some of the main things I can remember:

1) Arrogance: kinda put me off how he’s always responded to criticism. Always kinda had an air of superiority about shit, and it never really bothered me on its own because I think lots of CCs are arrogant & I’m arrogant myself, but combined with all of the following, it became a reason for me to dislike him lol

2) Manipulation of his audience: look, I kinda always knew that CCs with huge fanbases, especially CCs who grow this quickly, have some kind of grasp of how to treat and foster their audience to their greatest advantage. I’ve always been wary of CCs that put on soft or nice personalities, especially since the whole Shane Dawson debacle. But with Dream, it’s been a whole other thing ever since his cheating response video, and I’ve never been able to see him in a good light in regard to how he responds to his fans, ever since. I went into it in a lot more detail back when I first watched the video, the day it dropped, but I’m too exhausted to scrounge that post up, so I’ll summarize: that video had a very specific strategy that he used to victimize himself and appeal to his fans’ compassion for him, and after rewatching the video for the third time that day, it felt gross and calculated to me. The way that he focuses very little on the actual mathematical part of his argument. The way he frames the issue of the mods having favoritism or bias. It was already proven on Reddit and throughout Twitter that the numbers the mods looked at were for good reason, and not because they just wanted to pick the numbers that made Dream look the worst, but that’s how he framed the argument. When I logged onto Twitter and Tumblr that day, there were thousands of fans who had latched onto what he said in the latter half of that video and coming to Dream’s defense, and that’s kinda when it hit me: this guy fucking knows what he’s doing, and he’s doing it well, and I really really dislike it. There’s about a hundred other ways he manipulates his audience, including not coming to people’s defenses when huge chunks of his audience attack them (even though the people had respectful and correct criticisms of him), defending stans so adamantly in the face of antis, and posting periodic alt tweets that help garner the illusion that he super cares about his fans; but, that cheating response video was the major red flag, for me.

3) Cheating & lying: as is likely no surprise to y’all, I think Dream cheated lmao. At first, I was ecstatic that he had actually made a detailed response video and put out a report with the help of an actual professional, but as I read up on his supposed statistical argument and dissected the parts of his argument that felt off to me, I realized maybe he had cheated. Talking to some STEM major friends of mine, who weren’t into MCYT but had obviously heard about the whole debacle because they like Twitter and Minecraft, kinda put the nail in the coffin for me. I’m not nearly smart enough or have a good enough memory to detail exactly why I think he cheated on this blog, right now, in April, but essentially: his main argument relied upon claiming mod bias, instead of a sound mathematical or statistical argument; there’s no way of proving that the world files he provided to the mods and in the open source weren’t altered; the statistical problems he points out (i.e., stopping effect) don’t actually skew the original mods’ model nearly as much as his supposed PhD guy would say; and the odds he comes up with might not be nearly as impossible as 1 in 7 trillion, but they still come up to around 1 in 100 million, which is still fucking ridiculous, considering that there are only, like, 120 million people in the world who play Minecraft.  Not impossible, but laughable that he expects people to believe that. But... I guess they did, lmao. The thing that peeved me the most about the whole thing was the adamant lying lmao. When you look at the situation from the perspective of “dream cheated,” you realize just how fucked up all his Twitter responses, his adamance in streams and that video, and the general mood among his friends is... idk man, it’s just highly fucked.

4) Relationship with stans: look, there are significant numbers of  his fans that take part in Twitter cancelling vendettas, who spread around information about other CCs and their fellow fans that is false and meant to villify them, etc., and he never fucking says anything. It really, really bothers me. There are too many instances to enumerate, but a few that have caught my eye were when Dream stans would attack Techno, prior to their battle and when a Native American woman politely explained why he shouldn’t use Native music, he responded and said he wouldn’t, but tons of stans continued to attack her in her replies for “being so harsh/mean.” Like, he knows that just one word from him will make his fandom follow his beck and call. All it would’ve taken was one fucking word. There are so many fucking people that have been harrassed off of social media platforms because of the hivemind that is dttwt, for christ’s sake.

5) Reddit posts: All of the above were reasons for me to mildly dislike the guy prior to the Reddit posts, but they weren’t really enough to make me stop posting about c!Dream or reblogging fanart or reading DNF fics or watching Manhunts. I kinda just clowned on the guy, answered the occasional ask about the cheating thing or something related, and left it at that. The Reddit posts not only pissed me off for their content, but for the lying, as well. Do you think I fucking cared about him cheating at speedrunning Minecraft, of all games? Fuck no. What I cared about was the adamant lying that went into the whole debacle. Kinda the same with the Reddit posts. I’m one to usually forgive creators who acknowledge past errors, obviously. It is creators who try to brush stuff off, or even worse, create an elaborate lie to cover up allegations, that put me off a fuck ton. This is the reason I could never be comfortable with watching Pewdipie after I realized all the shit he had brushed off, and it’s now the reason I can’t go back to watching Dream. There is so much evidence that points to guilt, including but not limited to: his first move when the slideshow dropped (before posting to Twitter) being deleting as many old Discord messages as he could, the contradiction between him at first denying the account was his at all then changing the story to say he shared it with a friend, the wording and phrasing in the political posts being almost identical to the non-political posts that were clearly him (i.e., the one that explains his demographics perfectly), and the timing of the political posts (some of them being posted mere minutes after posts that were verifiably him, like the picture of Patches to the cats subreddit). People can claim that he’s likely changed, and what this it matter, as long as politics don’t affect his work now, but I can’t believe this fundamental misunderstanding of why bigotry in entertainment matters. I’ve always had a problem with the adoration this fandom has for cishet white men, and the constant criticism of non-cishet, non-white, non-men, but this really feels like the final slap in the fucking face. It’s like everyone truly believes that it doesn’t matter, that his beliefs couldn’t have possibly affected the way he’s treated fellow CCs in his circles or any of the number of people that depend upon Dream, directly and indirectly, for employment/CC clout. It’s like everyone truly believes that political ideology has no effect on the way we perceive, treat, and behave around other people in literally any field, not just politics. I, just... Christ. I don’t really wanna unpack my emotions about this whole thing right now, so I won’t. I’ll just say: I dislike Trump supporters and ex-Trump supporters alike, I dislike conservatives who claim they’re centrists (every fucking guy my age does this, it’s infuriating and makes me want to bash my head into the nearest wall), I dislike people who levy their fans against criticism - even when it’s righteous - and I dislike people who lie about their past actions; Dream fits all those categories, so I dislike him.

[overheardatthecontinental]

Talk Now Complete

Over the last three months, I have dedicated a huge chunk of my limited free time to writing this piece. What started out as a possible kinktober one-shot was side-tabled as I realized it had potential to be an actual story. Now, twenty chapters and 103,723 words later I am thrilled to say that this installment is complete.

I’ve already begun a second installment of this series which will pick up at the start of John’s retirement. I’m hoping to have the first chapter out within the week.

Thank you so much to everybody who liked, commented, and supported me during this story and a huge thank you to @meetmeinthematinee​ for helping me edit and review this beast.

AO3 Talk Link

Chapter 20 Link

 A new start.

 That was what she had deemed it. For both of them.

 John went around the city. Closing accounts. Transferring mountains of coins into actual money. Saying silent goodbyes to the places that had defined him for a lifetime. And stashing markers, money, and weapons. Just in case.

 He hopes he will never have to use them.

 And, while he does that, Helen packs up her house.

 The decision to move in together came approximately two days after returning from Vermont. They’d wasted enough time, they both decided.      “And,    ” Helen had teased,      “God forbid we decide to spend a night apart, I already know you’ll sneak in to watch me sleep.    ”

 Minx.

     “I’m more than happy to sell my place.”    He had told her.

     “You’ve given up your entire life for me.    ” She had argued, gently running her hand through his hair.      “I’ll give up the house. Besides, if you think I’m giving up your hot tub, you’re fucking dreaming.”  

 And that had been that.

 They’d driven to her house, stopping to pick up boxes and tape and bubble wrap, and started packing up.

         She made some calls around the city, looking for charities to donate some of her furniture to. John’s bed, she had discovered, was far more comfortable than hers. And they didn’t need multiple dining room tables or sets of cookware or dishes.

 John borrowed a truck from Aurelio and, with his and Marcus’ help, started dropping things off across the city.

 In the remaining days of her “recovery”/vacation, they manage to empty most of her little house. And while      their     house (he will never get used to the sheer joy that fills him at that descriptor) is now a mess of boxes and suitcases, it has never felt more like home.

 He laughs at the three boxes of shoes Helen has to unpack, only to have to dodge a high heel used as a projectile.

 He revels in the way she unpacks her sweaters and dresses to hang across from his clothes.

 He also takes a great deal of pleasure when he finds the small box, once hidden away in the back of her closet, containing a number of delightful little toys. He gets another shoe thrown at him as he practically begs for details.

 Helen laughs and offers a private demonstration… once her books are shelved in the library. John scrambles to fulfill her every wish.

 One of the benefits of Helen having her own practice was that she could really do whatever the hell she wanted. She had reached out to all her clients first thing on Monday to apologize for her absence, reporting that she had been the victim in a hit-and-run, leaving her in a coma for the better part of the week. While she was doing much better, she told them, she still needed another week for recovery.

 Of course, the Underworld had bought out half the cops in the city. A quick call from John Wick and shit was being filed      exactly     how he demanded it to be. Doctor’s notes were forged, along with hospital ‘records.’ That part was easy.

 What had been much more complicated, John discovered, was dealing with the missing person’s out on Helen and it throws his world off kilter, yet again.

 Her family had been terrified. While Helen wasn’t exactly in constant contact with them, the police had reached out after a concerned associate of Helen’s reported her missing. Unable to contact her, her parents and sister had been in a frenzy.

 Using the phone that John had paid for, insisting that he buy her a new one since it was his enemy who had destroyed hers, she reluctantly calls her mother.

     “Mom, I am begging you, stay home. I’m fine.”  

     “We’ve been so worried!” John hears her mother sobbing on the other side of the line, “A hit-and-run, oh, sweetheart!”  

 And if      that’s    her mother’s reaction from a hit-and-run, John doesn’t want to know what her mother would do if she ever found out the truth.

 Kidnapped, held hostage, marked for death…

 The poor woman might have a heart attack.

     “You’re still recovering! You need someone to take care of you!”  

     “I have someone taking care of me.”    Helen had said, and at that moment, John had indeed been massaging her shoulders. His lips had twitched in response.

 He was the one taking care of her.

 He would be the one taking care of her forever.

 It made him giddy to think about.

     “Who?”  

They hadn’t discussed labels. It all seemed sort of unnecessary after all they had been through. But when Helen makes the executive decision and says, “my boyfriend” John wonders if he’s the one having a heart attack with the way his own is beating so hard it feels like it might burst at any moment.

 Boyfriend.

 He’d never been a boyfriend before. He’d never had any interest in being a boyfriend before. A term he’d never imagined being applied to him but now that it was…

 He was a boyfriend.

 He was      Helen’s    boyfriend.

 He’s filled with pride and affection and so much love he doesn’t know what to do. She leans into him, reaching up to where his hands have stopped massaging as he attempts to process her words. And because she’s Helen and she knows him better than he knows himself, she squeezes his hand.

 Grounding him.

 But, of course, her confession to her mother opens another avenue of questions.      What boyfriend? How long have you been seeing each other? Why haven’t you mentioned him before?  

 To which Helen answers respectively       his name is John. We met seven months ago. And because who I date and when I decide to share that information is my choice    .

 It’s another half an hour of questioning before Helen manages to talk her way off of the phone after wrangling a promise that her mother would      not     fly to New York. In return, Helen was to send her daily text updates on her health.

 Her sister was another matter. Living only an hour away in Trenton, her sister insisted on driving up. It ended up working well, however. While he had testified without a single problem, John hadn’t had the time to meet with Tarasov.

 So Wednesday, Helen agreed to meet her sister for lunch while John had gone to meet with a mob boss.

 John arrives at Tarasov’s compound and, once again, finds himself subject to stares.

 They had always been there. The Baba Yaga was the focal of fascination for a great many, but most had always tried to hide the attention they paid to the man, the monster. But since Helen’s existence had been made known, he’s found himself front and center everywhere he goes.

 And it had only become worse after being questioned by the High Table on the DeLuca’s and their involvement. While John had repeatedly stated he would not answer questions regarding his relationship with Helen, it didn’t stop the questions from coming.

 During the trial and afterwards, members of the High Table had tried to push. John had given them nothing.

 John is silent as he walks up to Viggo’s office.

 The last tie to sever.

 While Abram was scared enough of John Wick to let him go without a fight, John was certain that Viggo’s ambition would rise to the occasion.

 After all, hadn’t John Wick done the impossible? He had brought down Syndicate and saved the girl with every odd stacked against him.

 And now Viggo wanted a piece of that.

 The impossible.

 And John will do it. Of course, he will do anything if it means being released.

 Retirement is so close he can taste it as he steps into the familiar office, closing the door behind him.

 Viggo Tarasov sits at his desk, setting his paper aside as John takes a seat in front of him.

 “John.” Viggo greets, “I was surprised to hear from you.”

 John inclines his head. Viggo was full of shit.

 Lorenzo had shared with his children that he had released John Wick of his contract following the trial. The rest of the Underworld knew by sundown. John was certain that Viggo was well aware of John’s intentions in this meeting.

 “I’m retiring.” John says, truly not in the mood for games.

 Viggo nods in response to the news, clearly expecting John’s announcement. “Very few people retire from our world.”

 “Because most are dead long before they reach my age.”

 “I’m older than you.”

 “You have a desk job.” John points out, aware that his status is the only reason he can get away with saying such things to Viggo Tarasov.

 Viggo waves a hand vaguely, “You’ve never had interest in a desk job.”

 “Nor do I now. However, I still intend to live a while longer. In peace.”

 “Peace.” Viggo says, testing the word on his tongue, “That must be a foreign concept to a man like you.”

 A year ago, John would have agreed with him.

 Hell, eight months ago, John would have agreed with him.

 And while his experiences were still limited, he already had a glimpse of peace. In the weekly visits he had paid to Helen’s office. In the quiet of the night as he meditated to each and every intake and exhale of breath.

 Now, John knew peace in the moments before his alarm went off and he held Helen close to him. He knew peace in the way she wrapped herself around him as he made her coffee. He knew peace in the way her head rested on his shoulder or in the soft flips of pages as Helen read by his side. He knew peace in the moments where she held him.

 “I’m aware you hold my contract,” John says, ignoring Viggo’s comment. “I am more than willing to buy it out.”

 A longshot, John knew.

 Viggo tilts his head to the side, like he’s considering it. Yet John knows, from that single action, that Viggo already has something in mind. Something he wants done that only John Wick can manage. John just fucking wishes he’d get to the point instead of treating this like a game.

 “At this time, your contract is not for sale.” Viggo says, “However, there is a task I have in mind. A bit… difficult, to say the least. But, should you complete this for me, I would be more than willing to release you from your contract.”

 There it is.

 “What do you have in mind?”

 “It’s a bit of an impossible task…”

 …

 When John arrives home and he’s relieved to find Helen’s car parked out front. He makes a mental note to install a garage opener in her car as soon as possible.

 John quickly goes inside, not wasting any time. The desire to set eyes on her is overwhelming and he wonders how he managed to      only     see her at night for months on end.

 He’s not certain he can ever again go longer than hours without seeing her, touching her.

 Helen has become an addiction.

 When he doesn’t find her in the living room or the kitchen, he goes upstairs. Sure enough, she is in the library, kneeling in front of a bookcase as her fingers trace over the spines.

 “How was lunch?” He asks and Helen’s lips twitch.

 With anyone else, he might have scared them. Even in his own home, he tends to walk lightly so as not to be noticed. But she’s always had that sixth sense about him. It brings him an absurd amount of happiness to know that she understands and sees him.

 “It was fine.” She reaches a hand up. John takes it and helps tug her back to her feet. “Got a bit of the third degree but I suppose I can’t blame her for being curious, all things considered.”

 On tiptoes, she gives him a quick kiss. “How was Tarasov?”

 “As expected,” John says.

 Helen hums as she looks him over, “Indirect answer.”

 “It could be worse.” John tries again.

 “Now you’re being evasive.”

 She had warned him life would be like this. She’s spent the better part of her life learning to read people and despite being an enigma to most of the world, John Wick is an open book to Helen.

 He can’t bring himself to be upset when they both knew this was exactly how it was going to be.

 “He wants me to complete a rather difficult task.”

 “How dangerous is this going to be?” She asks, folding her arms over her stomach.

 She did that when she was worried, John had noticed. He hates that it’s him causing her such stress but comforts himself with the fact that this will be the last time.

 “Fairly.” Helen’s face is that unique mix of impassive and empathetic that he was used to seeing in her office. He steps forward, catching her chin in his hand and drawing up her face. “I’ll be fine.” He promises.

 She gives him a small smile and nods. She’s scared, he knows. And he is too. He’s never had so much to lose.

 “What does he want?”

 He wants to shake his head and tell her not to worry about it. But he knows exactly how that conversation will go if he tries.

 “There are a few rival Russian gangs that Viggo wants control of.”

 “A few?” Her brows shoot up.

 Maybe he should have phrased that better.

 While he’s unsurprised by Viggo’s demands given the opportunity to manipulate the Baba Yaga, Helen worries. She used to joke that it was her job to worry—that he paid her good money for such. And he would smile and promise to see her next week.

 But things had changed so much since DeLuca.

 She understood a little bit more just what John was capable of. In the moments when she had been in DeLuca’s grasp,      John     had learned a bit more of what he was capable of.

 But in understanding that, she grew more worried. When it came to her, they both knew that he was capable of      anything    .

 And that made him reckless, to a degree.

     “It goes both ways, John.”     She told him when he had first explained what it would take to actually retire, what he might need to do to be released by the Tarasov’s.      “You worry about me constantly, but I worry about you too. Do you really think I would be okay if something happened to you?”  

     “You could move on.”    He had replied,      “I know you would hurt, but you could go on living your life.”  

     “For one of the smartest people I know, you’re an idiot, John. I would be    devastated       if something happened to you, if I lost you.”  

     “It’s different.”  

     “Like hell it is. Do you know how many nights I used to lie awake until you would get to my house because I was so paranoid, so scared that something would happen to you?”    Helen had shaken her head,      “Or that I used to spend my Friday’s in an anxious blur, terrified that one day you just weren’t going to show up. That you’d just… be gone.”  

     “It’s different.    ” John had maintained, “      Hels, you’re—you’re all I have.”  

 And that was just a fact. Without him, Helen would have her family, her friends, her work.

 But without her… what would he be?

 “It will be fine.” He promises, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair back from where it had fallen in her face. It assures him that she is real and safe when his thoughts start to overwhelm him, “This is more of a point-and-shoot kind of gig. Just with a lot of moving targets.”

 An impossible number of moving targets. He forgoes saying as much, still trying to formulate a plan in his mind on how he’s going to pull this off.

 “Is there a timeline?”

 Technically, no. Viggo hadn’t given him any sort of indication of when he wanted it completed, but John was strongly in favor of doing it as quickly as possible. The sooner the task was completed, the sooner he was free.

  And, oh, what a thought that was.

 “Friday.” He answers aloud. Two days away. It would give him the time to prepare, because once he started, he could not stop until he was done.

 She nods, leaning her head against his hand.

 He hates that he is responsible for making her worry. John pulls her into a hug, wrapping her in his arms securely.

 “Come on,” he kisses the top of her head, “Let’s go pack some more of your books to bring over.”

 She brightens visibly at that and they make another trip to her house.

 While Helen desperately needs the distraction, John realizes it’s just as beneficial for him. It reassures him, just as her touch does, that she’s real. That this is actually happening and not just some coma dream, which he felt might be more realistic.

 They spend Thursday much the same way. While he’s tried to tempt Helen to take another week of vacation, she only shakes her head and says,      “It wouldn’t be fair to my clients    .”

 Marcus comes over to help.

 “Helen, if he’s blackmailing you into moving in with him, I can get you help. Blink once.”

 The older assassin dodges multiple projectiles from multiple directions, laughing all the while.

 “I’m serious! You can do better!”

 It’s a joke, and John      knows     that, but he still appreciates the extra affection she shows him. Like she knows that John still lays awake at night, wondering if he was good enough for her. But she slips under his arm, resting against his chest while she shoots back, “Forgive me for not taking advice from a man who’s still in a committed relationship with his daddy issues.”

 He makes a sound of pain even as he grins, “Low blow, Kingston.”

 “Come at my man, I’ll come for your life.”

     My man     echoes around in John’s head for hours after that and Marcus’ teasing was soon forgotten.

 After that declaration, his hands, which were impossibly steady when aiming a gun or striking a blow, were shaky. He had to talk himself through wrapping up her décor so as not to break it.

 They loaded up the borrowed truck, driven by Marcus, as well as stuffing her SUV full.

 “Hope you don’t change your mind about him, because I am      not     doing this again.” Marcus complains after he and John manage to get her loveseat into the back of the pickup.

 “I’m not concerned.” She says and the conviction in her words and her tone leaves John all the more in love with her.

     Good    , he thinks. He is no longer strong enough to let her go.

 John watches with fascination and awe as he hears a dog bark and watches as her eyes light up. An older man approaches with a golden retriever pulling on its leash trying to reach Helen. He recognizes the dog from the neighborhood, having seen it be taken outside late at night from a few houses over.

 The dog breaks free of the owner, tearing the leash from his hand, bolting towards Helen.

 Grinning, Helen drops down low and braces for the contact. “Hey, Buddy.” She says, scratching the pup behind the ears as the dog pants excitedly.

 “Sorry, Helen!”

 “No worries,” She calls back to the owner, “You know I’m always down for a Buddy-snuggle.”

 Marcus snorts and mutters to John, “How easily you can be replaced.”

 John rolls his eyes, smiling all the while as she coos to the dog lovingly. He thinks back to the first time she met, showing him pictures of her favorite dogs. He had been almost surprised that she didn’t have one of her own.

 With a final pet to the stop of Buddy’s head, she sends him back over to the owner with a wave, before climbing back to her feet.

 A part of him was reluctant to share her but he could imagine, maybe somewhere down the line, getting a dog with Helen. He thinks she would like that, the potential images flipping through his head and filling him with an unexpected warmth.

 “Should have guessed you were a dog person,” Marcus says.

 “Always have been.” She replies, slipping back under John’s arms. Even with moving furniture and boxes, it’s still cold outside. He tucks his chin to her head and wraps his arms around her.

 “Makes sense given your choice in partner.”

 She throws Marcus a look, but he holds up his hands defensively.

 “Not like that! No need to bring my daddy issues into this. Just meant he’s got some of those qualities. Unwavering loyalty, literally the definition of a dog with a bone when it comes to you. Protective, but a little bit stupid.”

 “Thanks, Marcus.” John says, rolling his eyes yet again.

 “I prefer dogs to people, anyway.” Helen says, patting his arm. “Far less complicated. They don’t make muddles out of things the way we do. And they’re far less self-interested.”

 “All this, coming from the only one of us who works with humans for a living.”

 She grins at that, “It’s why I can say, without a doubt, that dogs are better than people.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be hyper-empathic to the human experience?”

 “I can be. And there is a lot about said human experience that I admire,” Helen says, “We’re an incredibly resilient species. The mind can handle just about anything, which is remarkable when you think about it. And we’ve worked to build societies based on mutual respect and social currency. There’s drama and endless uphill battles, struggles and triumphs, and a capacity for healing unseen in any other creatures,” She shrugs, “But there’s something to be said for just      living    . Simply, at that.”

 He feels his arms tightening around her as he presses a kiss to her head.

 He loves her more than he’ll ever be able to express. Helen leans to the side so her face is just below his and kisses him once more.

 “I’m going to finish with my room.” She tells him and slips out of his arms. He watches as she walks back into the house.

 She’s giving it up for him. Her home, her space.

 It’s still so surreal.

 “She’s incredible.” Marcus says softly.

 “I don’t deserve her.”

 “No, you don’t.” His friend smiles, “Luckily, she loves you anyway.”

 It was strange to think that they had only declared their love for each other a week ago. A single week of verbally and physically expressing their love for one another.

 It simultaneously felt like an eternity and no time at all.

 John heads back into the house, following her path to her bedroom. Her clothes and jewelry had already been packed but her furniture, along with a handful of other things, was left behind. She had washed her sheets earlier and was packing them in a box marked      donations    .

 He takes one end of the sheet and helps her start to fold the next.

 The question pours from him before he can even think about it.

 “Would you like a dog?” John asks, “You know, someday?”

 She steps forward, collecting the sheet, an eyebrow raised in surprise. “Would      you    want a dog?”

 John shrugs, truly uncaring. “I like dogs.”

 “But there’s a difference between liking dogs and wanting a dog. Would you actually want to have a pet? In your perfectly kept, immaculate house?”

 He feels like he shouldn’t say      I want whatever you want     because he doesn’t want to burden her with all the decisions, but truthfully, the only thing in life he wants is to make her happy. The little details don’t matter to him so much as giving her the opportunity to smile.

 “I wouldn’t mind either way,” he says as she folds it one last time and places it in the box with the others, “And the house is immaculate because I barely spend time there.”

 She considers it for a moment, and he feels his heart flutter with the twitch of her lips. “Yeah. Someday. Maybe we adopt an older dog. I’ve always had a soft spot for the rejects.”

 “Makes sense.” John teases and she rolls her eyes.

 “I swear, John Wick, if you make another orphan joke…”

 He grins, stepping into her space. He catches her face in his hands and draws her in for a kiss.

 Her soft lips yield to him and he will never understand what he has done to deserve such grace. But he swears to himself that he will never take for granted her presence or her touch or her love.

 This is happiness. It’s also only the beginning.

 …

 Friday comes, as it must.

 John had wondered if he would feel nervous or anxious for his final mission, his last task. Instead, he wakes up feeling eerily calm.

 He’s never been so grateful for something to end. But then, he’s never had a beginning to look forward to.

 Helen, he finds, is far more nervous than he is.

 “Should you be resting?” She asks as he takes down some of his own books so he can move the shelves around. He wouldn’t be leaving until sunset, much preferring to use the cover of darkness to hide his presence.

 “I’ll be fine.” He assures her. He’s gone on countless missions without sleeping or after only getting a few hours here and there to keep him going. Truthfully, having slept a full eight hours the night before is more than he usually gets.

 But he knows it’s not enough to stop her from worrying so John distracts her. First with planning out their new library. When that didn’t hold her attention enough, he switched to distracting her with his body.

 A sacrifice he was more than willing to make.

 He fucked her in the library before carrying her to the bedroom to take her again. And Helen was insatiable, much to his delight. But fucking her to the point of exhaustion took far more out of him than he anticipated.

 By the time she’s finally too tired to carry on, John finds himself closing his eyes and resting his head in the crook of her neck.

 Her fingers trace the back of his neck as she whispers, “Gotcha.”

 She really is brilliant, he thinks, as John finds himself manipulated into napping.

 He wakes up feeling far more rested and newly motivated to go out and come back home. To never be forced to leave her side again, so long as they both lived.

 It’s all so close.

 Helen runs her hand over his hair.

 “Thank you for making me sleep.” He teases softly.

 “I don’t know what you mean.”

 “Liar.”

 Helen grins at that, leaning forward to kiss him.

     This    , he thinks, this is what waits for him on the other side of the night.

 It motivates him anew.

 John showers and dresses. His traditional three-piece, he hopes to never wear again. For her sake, he leaves the tie on the bureau.

 John slips a small gun into his ankle holster, a knife into his sock. He chooses his weapons carefully as he prepares for the night ahead of him.

 One last time.

 Leaving is so very different than it had always been. Rather than heading straight from his room to his car, he detours to find his partner. To see her, to kiss her before he goes.

 He can hear conversation flowing from the kitchen as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and blinks in surprise.

 Marcus.

 He slips into the kitchen and watches as Helen rummages around in the fridge before pulling out and handing Marcus a beer.

 Marcus, he thinks, is probably the person he would miss the most. One of his oldest friends. One of the first people he ever learned to trust.

 Someone he would soon have to say goodbye to, along with everyone else.

 A large brown paper bag sits in front of him on the kitchen counter.

 “Marcus.” John greets as he steps into the kitchen.

 “John.” Marcus uses the edge of the counter to pry the bottle cap off. “Everything in place?”

 John nods. He had weapons stored around the city and Santino would be assisting. John had been reluctant to make a deal with the mafioso when he was so close to retirement but there were too many moving parts for what Tarasov had asked for John to accomplish it alone.

 Santino swore, so long as John stayed out of the Underworld, he would not use the marker John had promised him. But, should he ever step foot back, he was fair game.

 He almost felt bad for Santino. He would never go back to that life. Not while he had Helen.

 “Didn’t know you were coming over.” John comments, watching as Helen opens a bottle of wine for herself.

 “Somebody’s got to keep your girl from losing her mind.”

 “It’s an important job.” Helen jokes, smiling up at John. “I was afraid I was going to go stir-crazy waiting here at home.”

 He can understand that. He had nearly gone insane in hours after she had been kidnapped.

 John holds open an arm for her, and she wraps around him, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

 “What are you two going to do?” He asks.

 “Marcus brought Thai food,” she gestures to the paper bag, “And we’re going to get drunk then watch and score kung-fu movies bloodlust, technique, and general sexiness.”

 John smiles down at Helen, wondering how he ever managed to make it day to day without her. “Sounds like fun.”

 “We’re starting with Enter the Dragon. Which I’m going to go get set up.” Helen stands on tiptoes and gives John a quick kiss, before grabbing her wine glass and heading to the living room.

 “Last mission.” Marcus says.

 John nods again, “It is.”

 “How do you feel?”

 “You’ve been spending too much time with Helen.” John jokes, thinking of all the times his girlfriend had asked him that very same question, “But I feel ready.”

 “Nervous?”

 “Not even a little.”

 “Good.” Marcus glances to where she had exited, “I worried in the beginning. That you weren’t thinking clearly; that she didn’t have what it takes to be involved with an assassin. I’m glad I was wrong on both counts.”

 John looks down because he really doesn’t know how to have this conversation. He’d said his goodbyes to Sofia, to Winston, to Charon. To the few members of the Underworld that mattered to him. But this is one he just doesn’t know how to say.

 Marcus has had his back for two decades. He’d been his friend and confidant. The only person on the planet John had felt he could trust Helen to when his life fell apart. The man who, even now, was devoting his time to helping Helen.

 “We know the rules,” Marcus says quietly, “That after tonight… we go our separate ways…”

 “I wish it didn’t have to be like that.” John says just as softly.

 He’s told Helen, explained it to her.

 She had been angry, at first. That John was being forced to give up his friends along with everything else. That the Underworld was so unwavering and rigid with their rules and expectations. Then, she had been sad. Then guilty.

 She promised she would love him whether he left the Underworld or not and he believed her. But the life he wanted… it was for both of them. And it didn’t involve looking over their shoulders every moment of every day. He wanted to take her to dinner and not worry that the man two tables over was packing. To go to the farmer’s market without wondering if someone was going to attack.

 He told her again and again that this was      his    decision. That he was the one deciding to part ways in order to have the life that      he     wanted.

 And he has no regrets.

 There was nothing he wouldn’t sacrifice for that life.

 “Me too. But… you’re making the right choice, John.” Marcus assures him. “And I know that we won’t be able to go get a beer or hang out but write to me now and then. Send me the announcement if you ever convince that beautiful woman to marry you.”

 John nods, “I will.”

 “Good.”

 And maybe it’s because it’s goodbye, or maybe Helen has made him completely soft, but John walks across the room and hugs his friend.

 “Thank you. For everything.”

 Marcus nods, “Just… live well. Take care of each other.”

 “We will.”

 They part and John leaves Marcus to sort through the takeout he had brought with him. John follows Helen into the living room. She is using the remote to type in a password, standing barefoot in the middle of the sunken section.

 John takes the two steps down. Helen glances up as he does. He watches her swallow.

 “Time to go?” She asks softly and he nods.

 She tosses the remote to the side and throws her arms around him. Her grip is impossibly tight, but he doesn’t mind. He’s never felt more loved than when her arms are around him.

 “You’ll be careful out there?” her voice breaks a bit as she asks the same question, she asked every single week before he left the safety of her office. Right before John went out to venture into the Underworld.

 “I promise.” He kisses the top of her head.

 She breathes a soft sigh of relief. Helen leans back, looking up at him even if she doesn’t release her arms. “Because if you’re not back by morning, I’m coming after you.”

 “I’ll be back.”

 Partially because there was no way in Hell he was ever letting her become involved with the Underworld again but mostly because she was his home. The only one he had ever known.

 John catches her jaw in his hand and angles her face upward and teases, “It will be over soon. This time next week, you’ll be so annoyed with me, you’ll be wishing you could send me back.”

 “Never.” She says even as she smiles. “I love you.”

 “I love you too.” He kisses her lips, giving himself a moment to be completely consumed by her. To memorize, once more, her smell and touch and taste. He’ll take her with him everywhere he goes and hold on to the memory to guide him back home.

 With a final, soft kiss on lips he releases her. To leave her side one last time. He walks back up the steps to the leveled floor. He reaches out for the handle to the garage door.

 “John?” She says and he glances back, “Come home to me.”

 His lips twitch as he opens the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 With the morning comes their promise of forever.

[sunnymusingsao3]

⭐ please mr director! release the morgwen cut....(where'd your headcanons for gwen come from, what are some challenges you have re: writing them)

Behind the Scenes: Fanfic Edition

Essay incoming! This one got long as well!

Oh bless you for asking me about this; she once was a true love of mine is one of my favorite things I've ever written, and I am always 110% ready to scream about the things that inspired it!

So the answer to your second question goes hand-in-hand with the answer to the first actually, so I'm gonna answer these out of order!

The biggest challenge with these two is mostly just how little we have in canon in regards to their relationship, background, history, and other such information that would typically be very helpful for writing a canon character-- or how two of them relate-- for a fanfic!

With Morgana, we have a little bit, but she's also not often allowed-- in the show, at least-- to be a character outside of being a villain for our heroes to fight, so one challenge with her is understanding what she does in her day-to-day life. What is she doing when she isn't advancing the plot via attempted fratricide, or directly opposing Merlin in some way? Since she can't possibly always be sitting in her tower rubbing her hands together maniacally (or pulling a BBC Merlin and smirking in full view of everyone who suspects her) I want to know what kinds of things she likes to do when she's not in court, or tackling the Big Themes Of The Show.

She's clearly moved on from lessons with Merlin, so she is not spending all her time studying-- though I do think she must be self-taught in shadow magic, so perhaps some days are spent on magic study-- and ToA is set before Morgana starts being a general-purpose villain to throw into your knight's tale (because as any medieval male writer will tell you, there is nothing scarier than a woman with power).

The way I see it, then, is that in order to establish this close friendship that Wizards says Guinevere and Morgana have, a good chunk of Morgana's time must be spent around Guinevere. And for a Guinevere who, in my headcanon, married Arthur for strategic reasons? For a Guinevere who's got a crush on Morgana the size of Arthur's ego? Spending that much time with her is bound to cause some good old fashioned yearning.

And this is where we get into my headcanons for Guinevere. As I said above, the biggest challenge is how little information we have about Guinevere. She's fallen victim to the Disposable Woman trope, and while I don't inherently fault ToA for that (they have plenty of other very strong and developed ladies), it does leave her with very little character beyond "she was Arthur's wife," and "she was Morgana's best friend." (Short sidenote: I really appreciate the Crusading Widower page on TV Tropes's site, for pointing out that the crusading widower is often an anti-hero or even an anti-villain because I think that's absolutely right when it comes to Arthur).

Anyway, all this to say, since there's so little canon, it's basically a perfect sandbox for fanfic writers to come in and have the time of their lives lol, so this is what I have done!

I am a huge Arthuriana nerd (though I am hardly an expert by any means; I'm just a simple fan who enjoys the stories) so when I saw Wizards utilize wildly famous Arthurian characters, I rather lost my mind over the potential.

I have so many headcanons about how to merge ToA and a bunch of Arthuriana plot points/tropes/characterizations, but for the purposes of this, I will stick to Guinevere!

The main way I went about making headcanons for ToA's Guinevere, was to look at what legends I knew about her and see what could apply to the Wizards canon, without contradicting it, in order to fill in these huge gaps.

For example, we know absolutely nothing about where Guinevere came from, so I kept her father and her home city from legend. Since her mother is not even mentioned in the legends, I also translated that over to an absence of her mother in the story, while also giving her at least a mention, as I think she'd be important to Guinevere, even if she hadn't really gotten to meet her properly. I really wanted this story to highlight the responsibilities that Guinevere has within her roles as wife and medieval royal woman, and I think having her consider what her mother would have done in her shoes tied into that theme of Guinevere wondering "what kind of woman do I want to become?" as she grew up. This is also why Igraine is given a moment in the fic as well; Guinevere's relationships with the women around her is something which I think deserves attention, even in a fic where I'm mostly just trying to establish a general timeline and characterization for Guinevere as a whole.

The idea for Guin's mother to have fallen in battle, in fact, came from ToA establishing that some of the background Camelot knights are men, and some are women, and it's treated as perfectly normal, as far as I noticed. Claire has that one line about a "boy's club," but I do think that it's actually just that she couldn't compete because she wasn't registered as a knight. I might be wrong about that, but I really liked the idea of there being knights in Camelot who are women, and I wanted to keep that in the fic I was writing. Therefore, I think that Guinevere's mother was both a queen and a knight, or, at least, a skilled warrior. Similarly, I also think that Guinevere's father is most known for his relationship with the Pendragons in legend. This then translated to her father being the diplomat, to tie in with her mother being the fighter. I didn't dwell too much on that because, again, the fic was meant to focus on Guinevere, and it had already gotten longer than I'd meant for it to. But, I tried to give a hint at that in the way that Guinevere's father is the one who physically takes Guin's bow, and puts a crown in her hands instead. He's not saying she can't be a fighter, but he is emphasizing that she also needs to be ready to appear in other kingdoms in a formal setting. I like to think that Leodegrance would have wanted Guinevere to have both options, to be a bit more well-rounded than he or her mother were.

Brief addition before I move on to the next phase of the fic: I chose a bow because when the stalkling advances on her, she tries using a stick to fight it off, but shows a bit of an ineptitude at using a weapon like that. Since I didn't want that to turn into "she's a weak royal who couldn't fight at all," especially since it seems to me that most of the time, being royal in the Middle Ages also meant receiving fight training, I chose for her to be better at ranged weapons, like bows, crossbows, maybe even spear throwing.

At any rate, my headcanons from there were created in a similar fashion to the ones mentioned above; I used a mixture of ToA canon (ex: Arthur, Morgana, and Guinevere being shown as childhood friends; Morgana and Guinevere spending time in the woods) and Arthuriana (ex: pulling the sword in the stone, losing it, getting it reforged by Nimue; Leodegrance bringing the round table as Guinevere's dowry; Merlin being a royal advisor).

Now, since this isn't much of a Morgwen cut just yet (so sorry omg), I wanted to skip ahead to the Morgwen pining moments, to talk about them!

The juxtaposition between a burning candle flame representing her love for Morgana, and an uncomfortable midnight cuddle from Arthur (where she can't even bring herself to scratch her nose-- an irritant meant to heighten that feeling of discomfort) representing her relationship with him, is one of my favorite ways to examine the wild difference in how Guinevere sees both relationships. One is untouchable but beautiful, interesting. It burns, and it's bright, and getting too near it hurts too bad.

And then on the other hand, one is there always, it's inescapable, but mostly sweet, though it comes up short of providing comfort. It's not bad, and it's even gentle, and Arthur does love her, but she married him for diplomacy. She married him because it's expected, and it keeps her safe.

(Which, sidenote: I think some stories work well with period-accurate homophobia, and others do not. This is one I would not have put period-accurate homophobia in, as it's fantasy and legend, and I think it's more interesting if Guinevere can't pick Morgana not because of Morgana also being a woman, but because Guinevere is bound by her duties as a royal).

The last thing I wanna talk about is that I have considered writing another Morgwen fic, but I'm just not sure what kind of plot hook or idea I'd like to pursue. So, if there's interest, or any requests that someone might have for these two, please do feel free to ask away! I think their relationship is really interesting, and I'd be delighted to keep writing for them. Guinevere is a fascinating character in particular, and is one who I think, even in legend, sometimes gets boiled down a lot, so I wanna add some depth back into her character, and give her a chance to shine!

Thank you so much for asking, and if there's anything else you're curious about, don't hesitate to send it my way! Like I said, I am always happy to holler about Guinevere and Morgwen! <3

[kim-chann]

“Smile” [Karamatsu X Reader X Ichimatsu]

This is a soul mate AU where the last words of their soulmates are embarked to their wrists. 

Keep in mind that the reader is already in a relationship with Ichimatsu!

Word count: 11,781 words (wow!)

This is heavy angst, so beware!

"Man, Darkmatsu really changed, huh?" Osomatsu spurs, taking a swig of his glass of beer.

The brother's hum in response, "Speaking of Ichimatsu-niisan, where is he anyway?" Todomatsu asks, prickling at his phone, his cheeks red, and his eyes half-lidded with a little light of soberness.

The brother's hum in response again, shrugging this time.

"Probably banging her-- OUCH!" Choromatsu smacked Osomatsu in the back of the head, a glare embarked on his drunk attire.

The brothers were having a night out, drinking till they pass out for no goddamn reason. They felt like getting drunk, so they did. Without a fucking reason.

"You should be glad that Ichimatsu actually has a girl, unlike you, Osomatsu-niisan." Choromatsu crossed his arms, his voice filled with venom.

Osomatsu glared at him, "Right back at you, Fappymatsu."

Choromatsu let out a 'tch,' and glares coldly at Osomatsu, daring him to say it one more time before he throws hands.

"Brothers, brothers, there is no need to fight. We can all get along and--"

"Shut up, Karamatsu!" Everyone says, glaring at him.

"Uh--what? I didn't even do anything..." He looks taken back. He slouches back in the booth where he sits next to Todomatsu and a sleeping Jyushimatsu. He shuffles in his seat, his drunk estate bringing him closer to sleep. The angry brawls from Choromatsu and Osomatsu don't even phase him anymore. Fuck, he has a headache. Karamatsu tries to shut his eyes to try and fight the pain in his head, but the loudness of his brothers snap him awake.

His head droops and nudges upwards again, his body trying to fight sleep. He groans, "Ugh, let's go home now, it's getting late." He says, stopping the angered atmosphere. Todomatsu hums in response, "Yeah, It's getting late." The brothers just sigh and nod, before they leave out crumbled cash and yen from their pockets to pay for their meal and beer. They stumble towards the exits, small groans escaping their lips from their tired and non-sober state.

It takes them a bit to arrive home, but they open the door and don't even bother to announce that they're home because it was in the middle of the night anyway. They kick off their shoes before going upstairs. They all retreat upstairs, slow-paced, and eased. As Karamatsu was about to head upstairs he saw a light that reflected in the hallway. The light was coming from the living room. Karamatsu's eyebrows narrow as he makes his way towards the light that peaks under the door. The door was slightly ajar and he felt his chest grow heavy with slight anxiety.

(Y/n) was in Ichimatsu's arms, sleeping soundly in a pile of blankets with ESP kitty next to them. Ichimatsu was holding onto her with a blush on his face. He looks peaceful, contented, and most of all: happy.

Karamatsu's smile widened when he sees them together. He was so happy for them. Even if it hurts him to see the girl that he loves with his brother. Well, that doesn't matter anyway. As long as they were happy, so was he.

Karamatsu carefully opens the door to the room and tiptoes his way around the room to shut the light. He fiddles with the switch before turning it off. Karamatsu blinks his way through the dark, trying to make his eyes adjust faster. He walks back to where he came from and smiles once again before closing the door. He makes his way up the stairs and quickly changes into his pajamas and brushes his teeth. He brushes a hand through his hair and grunts in exhaustion. He was tired. In many ways.

He opens the door quietly to their bedroom. He grins slightly when he sees that everyone was asleep. He slips into his futon and closes his eyes.

He recalls when (Y/n) met the brothers after she was going to live with them for a while until her house was finished building. He remembers her quirky smile, he remembers when she made them food, he remembers when she helped every single one of them with their problem, he remembers the exact moment when he fell in love with her.

After months and months of their relationship developing, he felt like he had a chance. It was like a thread that he worked to pull in order to win a prize. The thread was in his grip, but it was yanked out of his hands.

Ichimatsu took her away from him. He fell in love with her and made his way for them to become a relationship. (Y/n) looked happy with him when they got together. The way her hair shined in the sun, the way her eyes glittered when she was excited, the way she fidgeted when she was nervous.

Her eyes.

Her hair.

Her quirks.

Her interests.

He loved it all. But it was not his anymore. It was Ichimatsu's.

...

He can't sleep.

__

"Check this out," Todomatsu says, showing his phone screen towards his brothers. "Soulmates?'" Choromatsu repeats. His curious demeanor spoiled into an 'are-you-serious' look. "Are you seriously going to believe that, Todomatsu?" He asks, entwining a chunk of rice between his chopsticks before putting it into his mouth.

Todomatsu retrieved his phone back and glanced back at his phone, "Well, yeah. It explains why we have random words on our wrists." He shrugs, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Oooh! Maybe Homura-chan and I are soulmates!!" Jyushimatsu says with his mouth full, which earns a scowl from Choromatsu.

Todomatsu playfully glares at them, "See? Jyushimatsu-niisan believes in soulmates as I do." He sticks out his tongue, which causes his brothers to shiver in disgust. "Whatever, just don't believe what the media says all the time," Choromatsu says, finishing his meal. (Y/n) prances around uncomfortably, deciding if she should say something or not. She opens her mouth, but shuts it tight, resisting her urge to speak. Ichimatsu notices and mutters an, "Are you okay?" to her. She nods her head and looks at Todomatsu. "What does the article say about soulmates?"

The brothers look at her. A blush on both Ichimatsu and (Y/n)'s cheeks. Todomatsu giggles before he looks at his phone once again, "Let's see..." He begins to read. "Well, it says that the words on your wrist tell you what your soulmate will say to you as their last words." He informs, "Damn, that sounds pretty depressing..." He adds, eyebrow arches as he continues to read. (Y/n) and Ichimatsu glance at each other with a blush. They begin to roll up their sleeves and they read what's on their wrists.

"Mine says, 'Always.'" Ichimatsu reads. "And mine says, 'Smile.'" (Y/n) reads hers.

They blink.

"And together, they say, 'Always Smile'," Osomatsu says with a grin on his face. Ichimatsu and (Y/n) blush before they giggle stupidly. The brothers smile at the cute connected message they have together. They were so cute together. The message, 'always smile' was beautiful and most of all: adorable.

"That's so cute," Todomatsu says with a blush on his face before he raises a brow at Choromatsu, "Well? What do you think, Fappymatsu?" Choromatsu glares at him, "Don't you ever call me--" He stops himself mid-sentence when he sees (Y/n)'s concerned expression. He didn't want to ruin the moment, "Well..." He sighs, "Sure, I guess."

"Yes!" Victors Todomatsu. "Mine says, 'Together forever.' Awww~ My soulmate loves me so much~" His coos, his cheeks dusted a deeper shade of red with anticipation and love. Osomatsu rolls up his sleeves before he grins, "Mine says 'Fuck you.' Damn, they must really want me to fuck them, huh? With my huge co--" Choromatsu smacks him in the head again.

"Oy! Stop doing that! That actually hurts!" He yells at Choromatsu, points his chopsticks at him. Choromatsu huffs. Osomatsu stammers with his words, "Why don't you tell us what your soulmates last words to us then, huh?! Maybe she'll say that your dick is so small that she fucking dies-"

"Mine says, 'I love you too.'" Choromatsu interrupts.

"What?!" Osomatsu exclaims, generally shocked by Choromatsu's soulmates' last words.

"Damn, Chorofappyski's girlfriend actually loves a guy like him? Damn, she must have really low standards." He shakes his head. Choromatsu glares at his eldest brother before he glances at the words on his wrist. His heart tugs with desperation and happiness. He's actually happy about the soulmate theory. He can't believe that a girl would like him.

"My soulmate says, 'Thank you.' What does that mean?" Jyushimatsu says, his sleeve covers his mouth in confusion. The brothers glanced at his wrist before shrugging, "Ooh, maybe your soulmate is thanking you for what you've done in your lives to be living together! Gosh, I'm surprised that you virgins have good last words from your soulmate. Maybe there is good in our name." Todomatsu tilts his head and giggles, which is meant to be used in a cutesy manner, but in the context of Todomatsu, it was an insult.

The brothers glared at him, "Says a virgin." Osomatsu spits under his breath.

Todomatsu turns his head to Karamatsu, "Hm, what about you, Karamatsu-niisan?" He asks, his head resting on his chin as he looks at Karamatsu in anticipation. Karamatsu remains silent. He was shaking. What did his soulmate say to him?

"Karamatsu?" Choromatsu calls again.

"I," Karamatsu licks his lips, his body shaking a bit, "I don't have words..."

"What?!" Everyone exclaims. They all gather around Karamatsu to see his wrist. There were no words or anything. There was a water drop. Karamatsu just stares at his wrist. He was confused. The words on people's wrists meant what they're soulmates were going to say to them before they pass, what did a goddamn water drop mean?

"Karamatsu-niisan, I don't see anything related to stuff like that. I don't know what that means, sorry..." Todomatsu says sympathetically. Karamatsu just hums, not daring to speak any words.

Waterdrop? Did it mean a setting? The ocean beach? Rain?

It was so confusing to him.

(Y/n) suddenly appeared next to him and gently grabbed his wrist. Karamatsu snapped out his thoughts as his eyebrows furrowed down towards her, a blush dusted on his cheeks. "That's so strange. I've never seen anything like it, that's so cool." (Y/n) says with amazement, her eyes glittering with praise. Karamatsu hums, "Well, my Karamatsu girl~ My soulmate awaits the essence of my arms of water in spite of the rain."

"Your soulmate dies in the rain, damn, tragic..." Osomatsu says, sighing. Karamatsu looks at him with wide eyes. That could be a possibility. Ichimatsu pulls (Y/n) closer to him and he wraps his arms around her waist, causing her to laugh. He was always so possessive when she talked to other men, especially Karamatsu. Ichimatsu knows that Karamatsu still likes her.

Karamatsu remains silent and thinks about the endless possibility.

Maybe his soulmate does die in a water-related setting...

__

"Okay, Ichimatsu-niisan, you're going to need to dress well for this date today," Todomatsu says, already setting up outfits. Ichimatsu fiddles with his fingers, his mouth curved into a nervous line. "Heh. Don't be nervous, brother. I'm sure that your Ichimatsu-girl will like anything you wear!" Karamatsu reassures him, his arm wraps around his neck and shoulder. Ichimatsu hisses and punches him in the face.

"Don't touch me you filthy pig!" He spits, glaring coldly at Karamatsu who fell, fortunately, on the couch with no injuries. Karamatsu hums and smirks, "As you wish, brother!" He quickly exits the room. The rest of the brothers roll their eyes, "Jeez, can he not be so cringy for one moment?" Osomatsu rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. "Exactly, I honestly can't really put up with him sometimes..." Choromatsu nods.

Jyushimatsu stares at the door before he chases after Karamatsu. Todomatsu glances at Jyushimatsu who exits the door to find his niisan.

He shrugs, "Well, let's begin!" He says, offering Ichimatsu clothes.

The first outfit was... okay? It was a purple jacket with a striped shirt underneath it with some jeans and Converse.

The second outfit was appropriate. It was their blue suit that all the brothers had, but there was a hole in the back. Ichimatsu says that one of his cats played with it. The brothers shook their heads, disappointed that their brother could leave his suit blazer with a cat.

The third outfit was perfect, it was a black trenchcoat with a dark-purple turtleneck, with black pants and grey dress shoes. The brothers smile at him, approving his outfit. "You look good for once, Nekomatsu!" Osomatsu says, his finger rubbing under his nose. "Yeah, you look good," Choromatsu says with his signature smile. Todomatsu pats Ichimatsu on the back, "Well, you're ready to go Niisan! Good luck!" Ichimatsu shakes a bit, nervous that (Y/n) might not like it. He just nods, not wanting to cause any more attention to be on him.

Ichimatsu leaves the house, after telling them not to follow them as they did with Jyushimatsu's date. They just nod, saying, "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

__

Karamatsu wipes his tears with Jyushimatsu at his aid, wiping his mouth and cheeks before he throws his tissue in the trash. "Why are you here, brother? Shouldn't you be upstairs helping out Ichimatsu?" Jyushimatsu just hums and shakes his head, "Well, I was worried for you, Karamatsu-niisan. When did this start?" Karamatsu's eyes went wide. Worried for him? He hasn't heard nor seen someone worried about his state in such a long time. His eyes soon became half-lidded once again. The last time someone was worried about him was when (Y/n) was there for him.

It was always her.

It was with her smile, her laughter, her attitude that always made him happy.

He should stop.

He should stop thinking about her. It will just cause him more damage, it feels like a sin to be thinking about her when she was already in a relationship with his brother. An unknown rage overcomes his being. He clenches his fists and bites on his bottom lip. Jyushimatsu notices and tilts his head, concerned and confused. "Niisan?"

No, she's happy with him. That's all that matters.

Karamatsu takes a deep breath before he looks at Jyushimatsu, smiling reassuringly at him, "I'm okay, don't worry about me. Please don't tell our brothers... especially (Y/n)."

Jyushimatsu nods, hesitantly.

Yes, (Y/n)'s happy with Ichimatsu.

And he shouldn't feel angry about that.

__

"You look amazing, Ichimatsu-kun..." (Y/n) stares at Ichimatsu, her eyes wide with awe. He blushes and looks away, "Ah, thank you... You look beautiful as well, (Y/n)-chan." He says, a crimson shade dusted on his cheeks. They intertwined their hands, his hands were clammy and sweaty; filled with nervousness and fear that he might not be able to make her happy. "Are you okay, Ichimatsu-kun?" (Y/n) asks her face a bit too close to his. His blush increases as he moves slightly away from her. "Yes, yes... please don't worry about me." He says, grinning a bit.

(Y/n) nods and grips tighter. It wasn't painful, it was filled with reassurance and calmness. That's what she always had; a calming charm. Ichimatsu loved that about her. She always made him so calm and reassured him that everything was going to be fine. He felt safer with her, happier even. It always brought him joy to finally know that he was never going to be alone. Ever.

"So, what do you have planned for us?" (Y/n) asks, hooking her arm around him and pulled him closer. He blushes and arches a brow in frustration in embarrassment. Despite that he loves (Y/n) to death, he can't help but hate that she can make him feel like putty by the simplest affection she gives him. He releases the grip around (Y/n) to pull something out of his pockets. He felt empty when she released his grip around him. He always wanted (Y/n) to be with him no matter what. He pulls out two tickets and shows it to her. "It's tickets to go to an aquarium, is that... okay?" He asks, nervous once again.

(Y/n)'s smile widened when she held the tickets in her hand, "Yes! I've always wanted to go to the aquarium!" She confesses, her cheeks glistening red with happiness. The weight came off of Ichimatsu's chest as he let out a sigh he didn't know he was holding. He chuckles at her reaction, "Well I've always heard you say that you've always wanted to go a few weeks ago, you dummy. So... I started saving up for us to go and have fun together." He shrugs.

He looks at (Y/n), before his smile drops. Tears were leaking out of her eyes as she stared at him with a smile on her face, "Gosh, you're so kind, Ichimatsu-kun," She pulls him into a hug. "You didn't have to do that for me..." She says, her words muffled from her face being buried into his turtleneck. Ichimatsu takes a moment to collect himself as he returns the hug; one arm around her waist and one around her head to pull her closer. He smiles, his cheeks flaring a deep red. He loved her so much, he would do anything for her.

After a few minutes, he pats her head, telling her that's enough and she apologizes. He acts boldly and pecks her lips quickly to tell her that it's fine, causing her to blush and giggle at the quick action. They both hold hands again, this time, Ichimatsu feels a familiar warm feeling in his chest. He felt love. He loved this feeling. He always thought that he would never feel such a thing, but here he was, loving a beautiful woman of his dreams.

He gave her occasional glances as she held a smile with a blush on her face. She looked happy, which caused Ichimatsu to have a shiver down his spine. He wanted to be with her together.

When they arrive at the aquarium, they both smile stupidly when they enter and begin their date. (Y/n) pulls Ichimatsu to where the dolphins are, and she smiles when one of the staff members begins to pour food down into its aquarium where they cry out in harmony and begin to feast. (Y/n) holds a smile on her face, her eyes glittering with a highlight from the blue from the glass, complimenting her being. Ichimatsu couldn't help but stare at her, his eyes a bit wide, admiring his lover. What a lucky guy he was.

(Y/n) glances back at Ichimatsu-- him jolting away as a blush grows on his face. (Y/n) giggled at his reaction before squeezing his hand a bit, reassuring him. Ichimatsu just hums and looks down at their intertwined hands, causing his stomach to do small flips.

When the dolphins ate to their fill, Ichimatsu gestures (Y/n) forwards, wanting to show her something. She ascends and walks alongside him. When they pass through a corridor with small TV's and tiny fishes in their little aquarium, Ichimatsu and (Y/n) converse in small talk, giggling to each other occasionally and kissing each other when it seems appropriate.

Ichimatsu shrugs his shoulder towards (Y/n), gaining her attention and tilts his heads upwards. A huge window of thick glass peers in front of her, covering at least half a hundred feet with a wider width that shows fishes, sharks, water bugs, etc. (Y/n)'s smile went wide as she stared, astonished, at the beautiful sea creatures that live in the huge tank of gallons of water. Many people stood by, admiring the huge glass of water that held many creatures. A bloom of jellyfish suddenly overtake (Y/n)'s view of the sea wildlife and greet her with the swaying of their little tentacles.

"Look," Ichimatsu points at one of the jellyfish, "That one is Hashi, he's one of the oldest jellyfish here..." He says, staring at its flow in the water. (Y/n) looks intrigued, "How do you know that one is Hashi?"

"I've been here with Jyushimatsu before, and the staff people said Hashi has purple leaf-shaped scars on their skin." He explains. "And that one is his mate, Jenko..."

(Y/n) nods her head, interested.

Ichimatsu brushes his thumb across her hand, "I want to live with you... like a jellyfish that sways... just like Hashi and Jenko." He turns his body to look at (Y/n), a smile on his face, his eyebrows raised, showing that he was serious. (Y/n)'s flushed cheeks gave Ichimatsu more courage and he cups her cheek with one hand, and brushes his thumb against her soft cheeks, causing her to smile even more.

It was comforting. Ichimatsu always brushed his hand against her cheek to show his affection towards her. It was quite rare for him to do it in public. But a few times in a few days? This was an extremely rare day.

"Can," Ichimatsu gulps, "C-Can I kiss you...?" He asks, his voice quite shaky. (Y/n) giggles and cups her hand over his hand on her cheek and smiles dreamily. "Of course."

Ichimatsu smiles sweetly before closing the gap between the two. Their lips pressing against each other with passion and love, his hand still cupping her cheek while the other slips through her soft (H/C) hair locks, gripping tightly, yet gently. The same warmth that they were both addicted to, shoot through their bodies, causing them to have goosebumps. Ichimatsu grows bold all of the sudden, and bites on (Y/n)'s bottom lip, asking her for entrance. She hums, parting her wet lips, and Ichimatsu complies, tilts his head to allow him to gain more access, and causes the kiss to grow more deep and rough. It was then a moan accidentally slips through (Y/n)'s mouth, causing them to both go red, realizing that they've gotten too much into it. When they part their lips and pant, a thin string of saliva still connecting their mouths. It breaks naturally, making them both wipe their mouths in embarrassment. When they turn to their side, stares of many families and partners raise a brow at them, causing Ichimatsu and (Y/n) to want to die from inevitable embarrassment.

__

The brothers stare at a flushed Ichimatsu as they eat their dinner. Their usual expressions of cockyness were now overwritten with proudness but hinted with loathness of jealousy. Karamatsu wasn't in the room, probably playing his guitar in the bridge by himself, trying to attract non-existent Karamatsu-girls, of which the brothers assumed anyways.

"How was it, Ichimatsu?" Choromatsu asks, generally interested in how his little brother's dating life was going. Ichimatsu just hums, his cheeks still red from remembering the embarrassment he had just gone through. "That's not even an answer..." Choromatsu says to himself, quiet enough for himself to hear.

"Did you guys bang?" Osomatsu blurts, wiggling his eyebrows. His little brothers all scowl at him. "What?" He says, not aware that he can't just ask a question like that at the dinner table. The brothers click their tongue and roll their eyes, and try to distract themselves with their meal.

It was quiet for a moment before Jyushimatsu finished his meal, and said his thanks. Usually, he'll just race out of the room and get ready to go to bed, but this time, he stayed. "Ichimatsu-niisan," he starts, his hands on his lap as his wide smile never leaves his face. "Hm?" Ichimatsu acknowledges, gesturing for him to continue.

"Usually when you come home from a date, you usually seem happier and refreshed, did something happen on your date?" Jyushimatsu questions, tilting his head. The brothers hum and stare at Ichimatsu, interested, stopping their rumbling chopstick on their plates. Ichimatsu stammers for a bit, not really open to his dates with (Y/n). He takes a moment to respond before quietly muttering out, "...(Y/n)-chan and I got kicked out of the museum because..." Ichimatsu stops talking, not wanting to think about the humiliating memory, and just interrupts himself by slurping on his soup.

"Huh?!" The brothers exclaim.

"Because of what?!" Todomatsu asks horror in his eyes.

"Don't tell me, did you guys actually have s*x in an aquarium?" Osomatsu asks, his cheeks dusted with a crimson color. The rest of his brothers glint their eyes in curiosity and disgust, but nonetheless, impressed.

Ichimatsu looks a bit taken back, shocked, but not surprised that Osomatsu would immediately go to that conclusion. "...huh? N-No--"

"Wow, Ichimacchan, I didn't know you had the guts to do that! I'm so proud of you!" Osomatsu teases, not letting him speak and appealing to his monstrosity of a situation.

"What was it like?"

"Did you have fun?"

"Did you guys get caught?"

As the brother bombards Ichimatsu with many inappropriate questions, the home phone rings. Jyushimatsu, who was not interested in pressuring his older brother, got up from the loud room and went to pick up the phone.

"Hello, hello! This is the Matsuno household! This is Jyushimatsu!" He introduces. He listens carefully, humming, and nodding along what the person behind the line was telling him.

Suddenly, Jyushimatsu's face loses its color, and his wide smile drops.

"Karamatsu-niisan...

is in the hospital...?"

__

Rushed footsteps echo throughout the hospital corridors, as panic overtakes the air.

'656'

What happened?

Did he get hurt?

Was he okay?

Questions overrun the minds of the brothers, including their parents who have a horrified and nervous look on their faces, wanting to see their second eldest son to calm their nerves.

'657'

It happened so quickly. When Jyushimatsu burst through the doors to their dining room, announcing that Karamatsu was in the hospital in the late evening, it explained why he wasn't at the dinner table in the first place. At first, they dissed the thought, thinking it was just another joke, but when Jyushimatsu explained that he fell ill and suddenly unconscious, that spiked worry in their guts.

'658'

As soon as they see Karamatsu's hospital room, they burst through the door, "Karamatsu-niisan!" Todomatsu exclaims when he sees his older brother in a hospital bed.

They surround his bed, worry planted on their faces, not fitting their characters at all.

"Woah, woah," The nurse says, trying to ease the family. "He's unconscious at the moment, please give him some rest." Matsuzo and Matsuyo sniff, trying their best not to break down right in front of their whole family, as they clench their fist. Matsuyo stumbles forward to Karamatsu first, placing a hand gently on his pale hands.

"What happened to my son...?" She asks, her voice trembling.

"Karamatsu-san was reported to be pale and ill when he was walking through the mists of Shibuya and suddenly fell unconscious. The people who brought him in said that his eyes were bloodred when they tried to make him conscious once again. I'm not sure what happened to him, but the doctor is certain that Karamatsu has been sick for a while now."

Jyushimatsu flinches upon hearing the explanation, as his tears roll down his cheeks in worry.

"What kind of sickness?" Matsuzo asks, going next to Matsuyo and stares troubled at Karamatsu's pale and frail face.

The nurse shakes her head, "We're not sure. We don't even know what kind of illness this is, but the thing we know is that it doesn't really spread easily like usually, illnesses do," the nurse states, looking at her clipboard.

Upon hearing those words, the Matsuno's grow stiff and numb, their worry perplexing their every action.

It was quiet for a few moments before the nurse excused herself to give them some time with their ill family member.

When the door closes, Jyushimatsu trembles. He can't handle the guilt that he was feeling right now. He was the first one to know about Karamatsu's illness when he retrieved out of the living room when Ichimatsu was dressing up for his date. He promised that he would keep quiet about his illness, but he couldn't handle keeping it to himself right now. He just can't handle the guilt he was feeling.

"This is all my fault..." Jyushimatsu mutters, his voice was quiet but audible. His family looked at him, their eyes wet with tears as their expressions were worried, yet startled at Jyushimatsu's confession. "Huh?"

"This is all my fault," Jyushimatsu says more boldly. The attention was on him now. "I knew about Karamatsu-niisan's illness, but I didn't say anything because he told me not to!" He interrupts himself with a sob, "I'm sorry! This is my fault!" Jyushimatsu gets on his hands and knees, trying to show that he was at fault here and accepting anything as a punishment.

It was silent for a moment but Jyushimatsu's tears echoed in the room.

"You," Osomatsu's voice was filled with venom. Jyushimatsu looks up, only to be met with wet, yet angry eyes. "You knew all about this?!" He spat, grabbing Jyushimatsu by the collar of his yellow hoodie and pulled him upwards.

Jyushimatsu's eyes were glistening with tears and fear. "You should've said something! If you said something-- anything, then Karamatsu wouldn't collapse in the middle of the fucking evening! He could've gotten immediate help, you useless piece of shit!" Osomatsu screams in Jyushimatsu's face, shaking him with anger. At this moment, Karamatsu would stop such madness of the eldest, but there was no one. There was no one to help Jyushimatsu, and his savior was in the hospital bed, dying before him.

It should've been Jyushimatsu who should've saved Karamatsu instead of agreeing to what he wanted: to remain quiet about his illness.

Maybe it was his fault after all...

Jyushimatsu's tears fell down his cheeks, sobbing, as he refused to look into his eldest brother's eyes.

"That's enough, Osomatsu..." Matsuyo says, her eyebrow arched, not wanting to deal with two things at once. Osomatsu doesn't listen for a moment before raising his fist at Jyushimatsu.

Jyushimatsu's eyes went wide, before shutting them and preparing for the hit.

Pain.

His ears rang as pain overcame his body.

It hurt.

His vision was blurry when he realized that he was on the floor, and tasted something metallic on his tongue. He spits it out, spitting out blood and a tooth.

All he hears is distant yelling and murmurs of anger as he sees a flash of red, getting dragged out of the room with a flash of orange and green.

Jyushimatsu sits up, feeling pain on the side of his head, wanting to know what was going on. It happened too fast, he almost forgot where he was at the moment.

"Hey, hey, hey," Ichimatsu's voice filled his ears, and a blob of purple settled before him. Jyushimatsu takes a moment when Ichimatsu props Jyushimatsu against the wall, and he blinks rapidly, trying to make his vision become better. He takes a moment to calm himself down before he sees clearly now. "Are you okay?" Ichimatsu asks, worry in his tone. Jyushimatsu hums.

"Dumbass-niisan is being escorted out of the hospital with mom and Choromatsu, we didn't expect him to hurt you at all..." Ichimatsu confesses.

The door opens as Todomatsu comes into view with an ice pack and water, "Here..." He gently places the icepack on the wound where Osomatsu hit and offers Jyushimatsu cold water. Jyushimatsu takes it and swallows gently. When he stops drinking, he thanks Todomatsu with a weak smile.

"Are you okay, Jyushimatsu?" Matsuzo asks, kneeling down towards his second youngest son. Jyushimatsu just nods, "I'm okay, I deserved it anyways," He confessed with a laugh. Todomatsu, Ichimatsu, and Matsuzo stare at him with remorse.

"No you don't Jyushimatsu-niisan, you don't deserve to be hit for keeping a promise to one of your oniisans." Todomatsu appeals, shaking his head.

"And besides, hitting you won't even resolve anything, it won't help Shittymatsu get better, so he had no reason to hit you," Ichimatsu adds on, patting Jyushimatsu's head to show that he was innocent. Jyushimatsu just smiles gently at their brother's reassurance.

When Karamatsu gets up, it'll be hell for Osomatsu. Or if not, then Ichimatsu and Todomatsu will be glad to fill in that role.

__

A few days later, (Y/n) was informed of such matters with Karamatsu and was horrified by the news. The Matusunos thought that she would just send in her graces and condolences for having such matters presented beforehand for their family, but no, she was scared, worried, and most of all: angry.

She was angry that Karamatsu didn't say anything beforehand, and didn't call out for help. (Y/n) always beckoned that Karamatsu should always tell her what's going on every time he was bothered because they were best friends.

He trusted her, and she trusted him.

What happened?

So when (Y/n) visited Karamatsu's room one day, she was the one to see him grow sicker and sicker each passing day.

(Y/n) rubbed her thumb against Karamatsu's, a habit that she picked up from Ichimatsu, as she stared with half-lidded eyes at his hand, never-ending thoughts combusting her mind. She was worried about him. Karamatsu trusted (Y/n) with every fiber of his being, what suddenly made him stop talking to her?

The only noise in the room was the occasional beeping of Karamatsu's heart monitor and the soft sounds of (Y/n)'s gentle breaths. She was growing a bit tired when she sat down on the stool, drawing shapes and people that designate a story on his pale hand-- growing a bit desperate that she wanted him to wake up as soon as possible.

A few minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. Every time (Y/n) blinked, her eyes would sting from the tiredness that she grew upon herself. She yawned, her free hand covering her mouth. She looked at the clock in the upper-middle wall and noticed that she had stayed by his side for 4 hours straight, tracing small lines in his hand for hours beyond the end. (Y/n) was almost impressed with herself.

She gets up to leave and stretches a bit, groaning when her spine pops from her slouching position. She takes one look at Karamatsu's face before bidding her goodbyes. (Y/n) walks to the door and slides it gently open before she heard an unfamiliar noise behind her. She ignores it for a moment, thinking that it was the door making such noises.

Another pained groan.

That was not a door...

...That was Karamatsu.

Her heart stops before she whips her head around, staring intensely at Karamatsu, making sure that she wasn't hearing things.

When Karamatsu groans again and moves to lay on his side, (Y/n) immediately closes the door and fast-walks towards Karamatsu's side, her heart racing.

"Karamatsu? Hey, hey, Kara-chan?" She whispers, placing a hand on his shoulder, gently shoving him. He groans in response before he lays on his back once more, he grunts and yawns before he opens his eyes.

"Oh my god, Karamatsu!" (Y/n) breathes out, taking his hand into hers before squeezing gently. Tears fill her eyes as he looks at her, his eyebrows arched.

He opens his mouth to say something but his voice sounds dry and weak. "Wa-" he croaks, "Water..."

(Y/n) immediately fetches for a water bottle and claps it open and offers him to drink it. He tilts his head upwards, and he drinks it before coughing a bit. He drinks until he signals (Y/n) to stop before he rests down onto the bed once more, taking deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

It was quiet for a moment as (Y/n) stares intensely into his eyes, wondering what he wants her to do.

"...(Y/n)-chan?" he spoke out, making eye contact with her red ones. She hums and nods, smiling happily at him. His dry lips curve into a smile and gentle smile. "What are you doing here my darling?... And where am I?" He asks softly, his breath shaky.

"You're in the hospital, Karamatsu, you've been here for 4 days." She informs him, brushing her hand through his hair, causing him to groan pleasantly at her touch. (Y/n) blushes and smiles a bit. "4 days?" he begins to sit up, bit (Y/n) hushes him, and gently pushes him down, telling him that he needs to rest up. He takes a moment to realize that he is unconscious for a long period of time. The thought alone quite worried him.

"What happened?" he asks.

(Y/n) shrugs a bit not knowing how to answer that because she doesn't know the answer herself. She sighs, raking gently on his scalp, "I don't know, Kara-chan..." She says, a bit saddened that she can't inform him of this matter.

They stay in that position for a few minutes of (Y/n) brushing her hands through his oily, yet soft hair as he sighs in content.

"Karamatsu," (Y/n) calls. Karamatsu hums in response. "I need to inform the nurse that you're awake now, okay?" She says, the gentle smile on which Karamatsu fell in love with, was plastered on her face. He stares into her eyes, a gentle smile on his face before nodding. Her calming charm always worked, and shamefully, he wished that he could stop the desperate feeling of love aching in his heart, knowing that he can't have her at all.

(Y/n) nods at him and makes her way across the room to leave him. Karamatsu watches (Y/n) every move as she does so... happy that she was the first one to see when fate decided to spare him this time. But guiltily as this sinner of a man, he can't help but fall in love with her.

Every little bit of her being.

__

"Karamatsu!" All his brothers yell, barging into his hospital room, startling him.

"Are you okay?" Todomatsu asks, gripping the bottom frame of his bed.

"Are you hurting anywhere?" Choromatsu asks.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Osomatsu questions, but it sounded more of a demand.

"...You okay?" Ichimatsu mutters.

"I'm sorry, Karamatsu-niisan!" Jyushimatsu cries.

The brothers interrupt each other with questions, wanting to know what was going on with him. Karamatsu blinks, his eyes a bit wide, as his eyebrows raised in amusement. 'This is a strange surprise,' he thinks. 'Usually, they don't care this much for me.'

(Y/n) smiles in the corner of the room with Matsuyo and Matsuzo crying their eyes out with wide smiles on their faces, happy and relieved that their son was doing fine.

"Brothers, brothers," Karamatsu says, his "cool" façade coming back to him. "You came to check up on your best brother, huh? Oh, my Karamatsu boys~"

The mutters of concern from his brothers stop and spoil into a narrowed glare. "Yeah, I think I'm done here." They all say at the same time, already tired of his bullshit.

"Huh! W-Wait!" Karamatsu says, worried that they were actually going to leave so soon.

Matsuyo and Matuzo stop their sons from leaving the room and insist that they stay longer for their brother and find out answers from their never-ending questions. (Y/n) retrieved to Karamatsu's side, pulling out a stool before sitting down and insisting the brothers that they needed to talk.

The brothers sigh before they agree, wanting to know what was wrong with their shitty ass brother. They all sit down on the spare seats, while some of them stand up because there wasn't enough for all of them.

"When did this start?" Jyushimatsu re-asks, going first.

Karamatsu hums before he looks to the side, humming, "A few months..."

"'A few months'!" They all repeat, shocked.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"How did you get it?"

"Why did you keep it a secret?"

More questions echo in the room, making Karamatsu a bit ticked off. "Guys, can you shut up for once?" (Y/n) says, rolling her eyes.

The brothers shut up, muttering a small apology.

Karamatsu sighs, and smiles at his family, and (Y/n). "I know you guys have a lot of questions for my condition, and I'm sorry that I kept this from you all. I didn't want to worry you, brothers." He looks at his parents, "And I didn't want you to suffer from major hospital bills, heh." He tried to make a joke, but it was humorless. "I'm... not necessarily sure how I got this illness, but I knew coughing up blood was something serious, but I compelled it." The brothers open their mouth but Karamatsu interrupts him, "I know it was stupid and ignorant, but I did it anyway... I thought that it would just go away, but dear god, I was so wrong." He rolls his eyes, knowing that he was dumb as fuck. "I grew very fragile and weak, I noticed that I was growing paler and paler every month. But one day, I was just walking through Shibuya before I felt exhausted for some reason, and before I knew it, I'm in the hospital." He shrugs, grunting as he prepositions on the bed to be more comfortable.

It was quiet for a few moments before Choromatsu stands up and walks over to his older brother, "Honestly, you're so dumb, Karamatsu." He ruffled Karamatsu's hair. The brothers smile gently, understanding that what Karamatsu was going through was tough and scary. They join in with Choromatsu, teasing him a bit, but gently and harmlessly making fun of his idiocy.

(Y/n) backs away and smiles, and rubs her wrist, growing itchy.

__

"...(Y/n)-chan?" Ichimatsu's voice was quiet in her bedroom. "Are you visiting Karamatsu again?" He asks, gripping her wrist gently, preventing her to leave the bed. She turns back to him and nods. "But you already visited him two days ago..." (Y/n) hums and gently moves out of his grip. "I know, love." She says, yawning before she slips on her house slippers. "But I promised to visit him today." She says with a smile as she makes her way into the bathroom.

Ichimatsu watches (Y/n) walk to the bathroom, her nightgown complimenting her body, as he narrows his eyes in concern. Ever since Karamatsu fell ill in the hospital, she has been visiting him more often than Ichimatsu, and (Y/n) would go on dates. He tells himself that he can't get jealous because his brother is in the damn hospital and (Y/n) was his best friend. But why wasn't he really concerned about Karamatsu's health in the first place?

He sighs as he moves a bit closer to where (Y/n) slept, savoring her body warmth on the bed as he huddles himself back into the blankets. Ichimatsu loved spending the night with (Y/n) and having a good night's sleep with the woman that he loves, cherishing their cuddles and memories they made together. The king bed was always a perfect fit for their two bodies to become one just like every lover should cherish. Two bodies in a bed, wrapped in blankets as they cuddle in love.

But during this time, the side of her bed was always empty.

And he didn't like the absence.

Not one bit.

He hears the showerhead turn on as he inhales trying to go back to sleep as he closes his eyes, but his body says otherwise, telling him that he doesn't want to sleep anymore.

He pulls his hand out from the warm blankets and stares at his wrist,

'Always'

Ichimatsu narrows his brows as he glares at the message on his wrist and grunts, "Bullshit."

__

"Honey? What is this?" Karamatsu says, a blush on his face. He takes a sip of his apple juice before he snickers at (Y/n). "Why did you bring your guitar here, dove?" He asks, propping himself upwards so he wasn't lying down anymore.

(Y/n) giggles before she goes on her knees to unzip the guitar case before pulling out her guitar with her family crest of a rose surrounded with vines and stars.

It was an (L/N) crest.

It was a very powerful crest in their city. To have a surname of the name of the (L/N)'s would be God's blessing to a person. The (L/N)'s were always powerful in high class, owning a company that is powerful in their country was a bit intimidating to Karamatsu.

"I know that you're kinda bored here just watching TV and reading some manga your brothers brought you," She says, walking over to Karamatsu's side of the bed before sitting down in the guest chair, propping her guitar on her thigh. "So I wanted to sing a song for you, since you haven't really listened to music in a while, huh?" She says, chuckling a bit.

"That's very sweet of you my dear, but I don't think a sinful man deserves something this graceful." He says, shaking his head.

(Y/n) disses his appeal and begins to tune the strings with a grin on her face. "I know a lot of English songs, so I'll sing you one since you always say you like it when I speak English around you." She snorts, which causes Karamatsu to blush.

"Why are you doing all this, honey?" Karamatsu asks, his usual confident tone was lowered into a confused and cornered tone, causing (Y/n) to look up at him.

"Because you're one of my best friends in the world, I could never ask for a better friend." She says, winking at him.

Ahhh... 'friend'...

Karamatsu smiles through the burning pain in his heart, forcing out a giggle to show that he was contemptuous.

"This is called, 'I Won't Give Up', written by, Jason Mraz, a personal favorite of mine,"

She strums the strings before she begins to sing,

"When I look into your eyes

It's like watching the night sky

Or a beautiful sunrise

There's so much they hold,"

She sings, her soft, (E/C) eyes never leaving his, causing him to feel butterflies in his stomach. God, why was God punishing him, yet gifting him with such a thing?

"And just like them old stars

I see that you've come so far

To be right where you are

How old is your soul?"

Karamatsu hums along, his hands resting on his stomach underneath the thin sheets of the hospital bed, his eyes half-lidded, feeling an overwhelming feeling in the pit of his stomach of warmth.

"Well, I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up,"

(Y/n) strums the strings of her guitar gently, as she leans back into the chair, her eyes now focusing on where she was fingering on the frets.

"And when you're needing your space

To do some navigating

I'll be here patiently waiting

To see what you find,"

He opens his mouth, wanting to say something, but he didn't want to ruin this honorable moment of someone that he loves, singing something for him specifically. Karamatsu knew that this was her favorite song, as he takes in a breath, and sings along with the woman that he's grown to love in his short life;

"Cause even the stars, they burn

Some even fall to the earth

We've got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it

No, I won't give up,"

(Y/n) smiles, and giggles as she sings, indents in the corner of her eyes as she listens to Karamatsu speak poor-- but not bad English through his lips, as he sings along,

"I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily

I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make

Our differences, they do a lot to teach us how to use

The tools and gifts we got yeah, we got a lot at stake

And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend

For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn

We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in

I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not

And who I am,"

'Karamatsu was killing it!'-- is something (Y/n) would say if he weren't spitting out some English verses with him going crazy on the vibrato, causing (Y/n) to almost burst out laughing from how much he was getting into it.

"I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up,

Well, I won't give up on us

God knows I'm tough enough

We got a lot to learn

God knows we're worth it"

Karamatsu patted his thigh, going on beat with the song as (Y/n), and Karamatsu both sang in harmony.

"I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up."

As the song ends, (Y/n) and Karamatsu smile at each other, eyes making contact as they both giggle with pride with each other.

"That was really good!" (Y/n) says, clapping her hands.

"It was your angelic voice that made it harmonic, my angel!" Karamatsu flirts, his index finger under his chin and his thumb against his cheeks, winking at (Y/n), causing her to snort.

An itch begins to grow on her wrist as she scratches it rather harshly, a bit confused why it felt so tingly all of a sudden that needed a good scratch.

At this very moment, Karamatsu's heart was racing in his chest, causing his heart monitor to keep a beep louder and faster.

"Ah, Karamatsu? Are you okay?" (Y/n) gets up from her seat, propping her guitar against the chair that she sat on and checked what may be causing it as Karmatsu watched-- nervously as his heart monitor increased.

"Ah-" He clears his throat, "Non, non, non, my honey, it's nothing, I apologize, my dear, ~"

He tries to calm himself by taking silent deep breathes, trying not to make (Y/n) notice that her affection towards him was causing his heart to go a bit berserk.

God, he was blessed with his crush singing to him while being punished by being exposed by a damn heart monitor. He took a moment to blame his health that was leading him to embarrassment.

The beeping of the heart monitor was slowly going down as Karamatsu sighed in relief. He continued to take quiet deep breaths to slow down his traitor-of-a-heart beating in his chest.

"Ah, It's going down, that's good." (Y/n) acknowledges, nodding in approval before she retrieved back to her chair, sitting down at the other one that wasn't preoccupied with her guitar. "Have you eaten much lately?" (Y/n) asks, pulling out her bag, her hand shuffling inside of it a bit.

"Just some crackers and chicken soup they gave me," Karamatsu answers, wondering what (Y/n) was doing. (Y/n) hums before pulling out some pears in a small plastic container. Karamatsu's eyes lit up by the sight of his favorite snack. "Here, I brought some pears since I know you and your brothers really love them." She opens the plastic container and picks out a toothpick and pricks the juicy fruit.

"Ahhh," She coos, her hand offering the pear to Karamatsu, expecting him to open his mouth. Karamatsu's face grows red as his body stiffens as he grows hot. "U-Uh...? (Y/n)-chan? I think I can feed myself-- I mean I'm not that sick, my darling..." He says, thinking that (Y/n) was only pampering him because he was really sick. But despite having an illness that hasn't been diagnosed yet, he feels uneasy-- yet flattered that he's being treated very well. He no longer wonders why Todomatsu loves being pampered because he can clearly see why.

"So what? I pampered Todomatsu, why can't I pamper you?" She says with a smirk, still awaiting him to open his mouth. Karamatsu gulps and pries his mouth open, she smiles as she feeds Karamatsu the pear. Karamatsu's eyes widened from how juicy it tasted. For some reason, it tasted better than how it usually tastes when he fills his share with his brothers. Or perhaps it was his long-lost cravings that he wished that tricked his taste buds that the pear tasted ten times better.

"Good?" (Y/n) asks, she asks, spearing another pear slice in the toothpick.

Being fed by the woman that he loved throughout his early twenties and so on till this day was doing no justice to his poor heart. Still, his feelings were conveyed in his chest, he can't help but convince himself that she was his girlfriend at the moment just like he's always wanted. But the thought of (Y/n) being his significant other always spoiled into a bitter infatuation, knowing that she was taken by his younger brother, Ichimatsu. He will never forget the empty feeling when Ichimatsu and (Y/n) came together and proposed that they were dating. And that empty feeling always lingered when he was in the presence of Ichimatsu or (Y/n), and he grew exhausted every time he had to block out his feelings to pretend that he was okay.

But at this very moment, he felt like it was just her, and just him.

He loved it.

Karamatsu licks his lips, "Delicious."

__

(Y/n) yawns, stepping onto her porch before she plunges her house key into her door, opening it before closing it. She walks through the pathway that leads to her minimalist house, smiling at the lights in the kitchen. She knew Ichimatsu was waiting for her and she was in debt to give him the attention that he deserves from her from spending her time with Karamatsu.

Fukumi, (Y/n)'s housekeeper opens the door and greets her with a smile. "Good evening, (L/N)-sama." She bows, allowing (Y/n) to come in. "Thank you, Fukumi-san," (Y/n) says, taking off her shoes and slipping on some house slippers that she always wore.

As she turns her head into the living room, she sees Ichimatsu on the couch, his eyes fixed on the TV above the fireplace as he ignores her presence, not bothering to greet her like he's always done. (Y/n) grows a heavy feeling in her stomach, knowing that something was bothering him. (Y/n) turns to Fukumi, her eyes uncertain and laced with worry, "Is he okay?" She asks, removing her coat.

"Quite, he's a bit... bothered at the moment." Fukumi answers, her grey eyes never leaving Ichimatsu's back head. (Y/n) nods and thanks her as she makes her way into the living room, a bit nervous since Ichimatsu doesn't show this emotion of tense motion.

"Ichimatsu? Love?" She calls, she sits at the ledge of the couch, her hands making its way into his hair. She knew that he loved the sensation of being pet. Especially in times like these, a small massage on the scalp is something that always made him melt into putty before her.

He slaps her hand away from her and rolls his shoulders, his half-lidded eyes never leaving the TV screen. That's when she knew something was up. She retrieves her hand by her side before she goes around the couch to sit down next to Ichimatsu, but with a small gap to give him his space. It was quiet for a moment, as they both stare at the TV screen of Hannibal Lector. It was always one of Ichimatsu's favorite shows. (Y/n) even bought him a costume because of his love concerning praise for a cannibalistic serial killer. Well, whatever made him happy, she was happy.

"You okay?" (Y/n) asks, quiet, but assertive. "Do you want to talk about it, love?"

Ichimatsu grumbles a bit under his breath, with no audible words coming out of his mouth.

"What was that?" She asks, going polite and gentle to not startle him.

"Tch," Ichimatsu sighs, "It's nothing important." He rolls his eyes.

"Ichimatsu, your welfare is something that is important, I care about you... Did something happen?" She asks once again, her head turning towards him instead of putting half her attention to the TV show. Ichimatsu lets out a deep sigh, "Yes, something happened." He says, a little loudly for something coming from him. "...My girlfriend is having more fun with my shitty brother than her actual boyfriend." He spits, his tone emphasizing on the titles.

(Y/n) was not expecting that at all. Her first instinct to react to such behavior was to tease him, but she felt a sense that this was more serious than other cases of jealousy.

(Y/n) takes a moment to think of a reply, wanting to reassure him that the negative thoughts that are swarming in his mind are not at all true. "Ichimatsu, your brother's in the hospital. He's my best friend, and I'm worried about his welfare."

Ichimatsu remains silent.

"I know that we haven't been on dates in a while ever since Karamatsu fell ill in the hospital, but I promise you that we will go on dates when this is all over, okay?" She reaches over to hold his hand and brush a thumb against his hand, but he yanks his hand away from her gentle grip.

"'When this is all over'? When will that be? When Shittymatsu gets better? When he dies? Huh?!" He grumbles under his breath.

(Y/n) narrows her eyes, "Ichimatsu, watch it..."

"That damn idiot has an unidentified illness! For all I know, he's already dying the moment we're having this useless conversation...!" He spits through his gritted teeth, his hands digging into his thigh in resentment.

"...Why are you jealous?--"

"I'M NOT JEALOUS!" He snaps, interrupting (Y/n).

She lets out a shaky breath, "Ichimatsu, this is your brother here. Your older brother who is in the hospital! Why are you getting so angry at something so sentimental?" She argues back, not having the patience to deal with this. This was completely childish.

Ichimatsu lets out a breathy sigh, "...When news got around about Shittymatsu being in the hospital, I was actually worried. But I didn't care enough to visit him in the hospital occasionally." He looks up and stares into (Y/n)'s (E/C) eyes, "But you did... And I really just wanted you to be with me until the end... I know having these feelings is the worst time, but I can't control them...!"

His eyes dart around (Y/n)'s face, trying to read what emotion she was feeling, "I know I'm shitty and unburnable trash that will have no will to live, but..." he gulps, his cheeks going a bit red, "...You changed that about me, (Y/n)-chan. You're my reason to live... and every time I hear that you're visiting Karamatsu for hours, I feel like my will to live has gone away. I... I miss you, (Y/n)-chan..." Ichimatsu confesses.

(Y/n)'s face goes gentle as she smiles slightly at him, showing that she appreciates his words, and testing if she was safe enough to approach him. Ichimatsu's red circles on his eyes show that he has been bottling up his emotions the entire time (Y/n) has been visiting her best friend in the hospital. She felt her heartache at the sight of Ichimatsu so fragile and heartbroken before her, she can't help but feel the urge to just hug him.

(Y/n) scoots herself closer to the kitty boy, before wrapping her arms around him, pulling him into a warm embrace. Ichimatsu takes a moment to stop his eyes from watering as he slowly wraps his weak arms around her waist, his face burying into her neck, his nose resting on her shoulder as his lip and chin press against her collarbone as (Y/n) smiles against Ichimatsu's shoulder, before pulling away, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

She takes his wrist and turns it over so that the familiar words of fortune shine before them, "'Always'," (Y/n) reads, smiling, and taking her own wrist and showing Ichimatsu her's, "'Smile'."

"'Always Smile', Ichimatsu..." (Y/n) says, brushing her nose against his before taking their hands together, their fingers intertwining as Ichimatsu's smile comes back to his face, his cheeks red as he smiles at her before closing the gap, kissing her freely.

__

"Oh, hello, (Y/n)-chan, darling-- Ichimatsu?!" Karamatsu grows startled when he sees Ichimatsu enter the hospital room with (Y/n). His eyebrows narrowed, nervous, not knowing what to do when Ichimatsu was there. Sure, he knew that Ichimatsu didn't really like every fiber of his being, and seeing him now to visit him was quite heartwarming.

He sits upon his bed, making himself comfortable as he watches (Y/n)'s and Ichimatsu's movements as they walk around his bed and sit at the guest chairs. "Good afternoon, Kara-chan," (Y/n) greets, smiling at him. Guiltily, Karamatsu grows uncomfortable when Ichimatsu sits down next to (Y/n). He was used to seeing (Y/n) by herself while they have their own little fun as best friends do. It was a little more awkward, knowing that the feelings for (Y/n) had increased tremendously when she visited him every single day, and bringing her boyfriend into the room one day gave him a bad feeling.

Ichimatsu hums and nods, showing his own form of greeting. "Ichimatsu brought something for you," (Y/n) says, speaking up for her boyfriend, lightly nudging him. Ichimatsu blinks, and nods before he pulls something out of his pocket as he fishes out a card with cats on it saying, "Get well!"

Karamatsu takes the card, his cheeks flushing red with honor. It was a huge honor to gain such a thing, and most of all; a gift from someone who loathes you.

"Thank you, my Karamatsu boy!" Karamatsu manages, a wide smile on his face. "This is such a great honor to receive such a thing from you, Ichimatsu--"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, no problem." Ichimatsu interrupts, knowing that Karamatsu was going to bombard him with compliments and praise for getting him a simple get well card. What an idiot, am I right?

But despite all this, (Y/n) and Karamatsu fail to see the small look of pride and the tiny smile he wore on his apathetic face.

'Get well, Karamatsu-niisan.'

__

Karamatsu's family visited him during random time periods at random times of the day. It was odd at times, even while he wasn't surprised when Jyushimatsu came in to visit him randomly at four in the goddamn morning. With his family visiting schedules, he can't really conclude any pattern at all, but he really appreciated their visits, gifts, and stories they brought him. The one that was simple for him to remember was (Y/n). She visited him every day ever since he came into the hospital, spoiling him rotten while he should be the one doing that.

But as the passing day, which turned into weeks as the doctors and nurses performed tests on him, he was faced with a dilemma of something wasn't expected at all. So he remained quiet, keeping his mouth shut, even though his family told and begged him to tell them everything he knows about his health.

But... family does everything to protect each other right?

...right?

__

"Hi, Kara-chan," (Y/n) greets, coming into his room once again in the late evening. "Good evening, darling!" Karamatsu greets.

"Sorry that I'm a bit late, work has been kinda stressing me out a bit." She excuses herself, placing the bags down at the table that held the TV and brochures of the hospital. It was dark in the room, so she couldn't see much. But as her eyes soon adjust, she can see Karamatsu's figure formed under the wraps of the white-thin blankets.

"It's a bit dark, want me to turn on the light?" (Y/n) asks, making her way to flip the switch. "No, it's fine. The light is too bright anyways." (Y/n) hums making her way back to the guest chairs, grabbing something that was from the plastic bags, "I got you some Nikuman and some other snacks in the bags if you find yourself hungry."

She hands him a Nikuman that is prepackaged as he takes it and smiles, "Oh, thank you, my darling." He says, opening it and taking a little bite out of the snack. "Are you okay? You seem a bit more tired than usual." Karamatsu shakes his head, "There's nothing to worry about, you must be imagining things, honey!" He defends himself, taking another bite out of his treat.

"Are you sure, hold on," She reaches over to turn on the little light that stood next to his bed to see his face. Karamatsu gets stiff, "Wait, no, no--"

When (Y/n) switches off the lights, (Y/n)'s eyes grow wide, as she stares at Karamatsu, horror lurking on her face. "Karamatsu...you're so pale...!" She exclaims, walking over to feel his skin, seeing if he were cold. "You're not well, are you? What have the doctors been telling you?" She asks, sitting at the edge of the bed as she stares into his brown eyes that were growing a bit grey; dull.

It was heartbreaking to see him in such a condition.

Karamatsu shuts his mouth, his lip form into a small line as he avoids her gaze. He can't keep it in forever, now can he?

He takes a deep breath and stares into the IV needle in his forearm, "...The doctors told me that I won't get to live for a long time," He starts, feeling the air growing tense, "I... I only have a short amount of time left, honey. I don't know how long I'll stay alive..." His eyes begin to water as his voice grows weak. "I-I'm sorry..." he sobs, his heart monitor beeping faster the more he cries silently. (Y/n) scoots herself closer to him, "Shhh," She hushes, her arm hooking around his head as she pulls him towards her chest, as her head rests against his, as she sobs quietly to herself.

"We need to tell your family..." She whispers to him, as his cries stop as he turns to face her, his expression dulled with horror and anxiety, "No, you can't tell them...! I don't want them to worry." He argues, begging (Y/n) not to tell his family that he can die any minute. This is the exact same thing he has done with Jyushimatsu. Telling him to not tell anyone but doesn't resolve anything.

"I have to Kara-chan..." She says, meeting eye-to-eye with him, wanting him to feel the courage of truth that he needs in his life. "Would you rather have your family worried and spend your last living days together, or have them pissed at you when the time comes, knowing that you kept something from them again?" She questions. Karamatsu stiffens a small laugh and nods relentlessly, before he rests his forehead against her chest, "You're right..." he says, "Please tell my family..."

__

His parents and his brothers came to visit him more often as they cry and angrily tease him that if he dies, his brothers are going to kill him. (Y/n) visits after his family come by and hang out with him more often, their schedule no longer all over the place, but for once, simple and every day. Spending their days together to make it memorable and peaceful, wanting every moment to last forever.

The days pass on as Karamatsu grows paler and paler, his eyes growing more grey as his vision begins to fade little by little. But despite his life slowly slipping away, each and every day, his smile was always the same, his laugh was always happy, and his confidence never faded away.

Today marks the third week since the horrible news of Karamatsu's death announcement. I know it seems so bold for me to say this, but there is no sugar coating to remind you of what happened.

(Y/n) walks into the room, greeting him like usual as his breath grew rigid and hoarse, (Y/n) goes to his side immediately and pets his head, whispering the news of what happened at work today. It was a normal ritual for them to be doing this: (Y/n) brushing her hands through his hair as she tells him a story that brings him more joy than he could ever ask for.

As she ends the story, she sobs, her eyes watering as she stares at Karamatsu.

His hair was falling off his scalp as his eyes were fully grey; dull to comprehend that he was blind. His breathing was no longer quiet, as he breathed with a fight, trying to savor every moment of air as he could; alive.

His heart monitor beeps lower.

"(Y/n)-chan?" His whispers, his hands feeling up her arm-- to her shoulder-- and up to her cheek. "Why are you crying, my dear?"

Despite all this, he never stopped calling her names that she has grown to adapt to. The thought alone was placing more damage on her heart than she ever wanted it to hurt. His hand wipes the tears that escape under her eyes, as a small smile embarks on his face. (Y/n)'s sobs grow louder, not barring to see him in such a condition. She places her hand on top of his as she grips his cold hand desperately.

"...My angel," he spoke, his voice hoarse and breathless. "Please smile for me... for whenever I'm gone..." He stops to catch his breath, smiling up at her, "...Smile." Then the grip on (Y/n)'s hand became immobile and lifeless.

BEEP--!

Her eyes darted over to the heart monitor, it gave out a cry that has concluded a life; he was dead.

"No, no, no!" She screams, she looks over at Karamatsu, his smile still on his face as she screams at him to wake up. The nurses and doctors try to separate her and Karamatsu as she cries out in loss, wanting to be in his warmth again to sing him songs and tell him stories forever.

The nurses forbid her to enter the room as the doctors and nurse check Karamatsu's vitality and name the time of death. (Y/n) cries, tears falling down her cheeks as her knees go weak--sliding down the wall and to the floor. She covers her face, her knees to her chest as her arms cover her face, sobbing her heart out. As she removes her arms away from her face, her eyes dart over to her wrist, noticing that the words, "Smile" was gone.

Karamatsu was her soulmate.

END

[winterironspiderling]

Sorry if you’ve answered something like this before but, do you have any tips of writing slow burn, and just writing in general? Lol thank you and love your work!

No worries! I’m always down to talk about writing. Thank you for your kind words. :)

To write a slow burn, you will want to start with the main pairing as strangers, acquaintances, or even enemies. You could also start them as friends, but if you begin with the two having a close relationship already, it would be hard to draw that out because friends to lovers basically only adds kissing and physical intimacy, but if you start from the very beginning/first meeting you have more time to develop the relationship, which will take more words, and make the burn slower.

No matter what level of relationship you start the pairing at, there has to be a reason why they can’t be together yet because if you start with no obstacle, it will be hard to justify why they aren’t together. Obstacles could be the characters are in other relationships, one or both might have just gotten out of a bad/abusive relationship, they’re in a bad place mentally/physically, and distance or other characters are keeping them apart. This also gives you something to overcome not just in the relationship, but for the individual characters and their journey, and it adds depth to the plot. And the richer the plot, the more you can draw it out and slow down the burn!

To make the slow burn enjoyable instead of annoying or frustrating, try not to make overcoming the relationship obstacles or individual challenges “too easy” for the characters. They should have near misses and setbacks, or it won’t feel satisfying or intriguing when they finally get together, or oppositely, if it’s too hard and drawn out, and there’s one shitty event after the other, it will feel like okay!!! enough already!!! So try to space out good and bad events and keep it balanced. :)

Know when to time skip and when to accept that you just need to write an entire scene. Time skipping can rush character development and make the ending feel unearned, but writing every detail of the characters’ lives can get boring to read. When you need some exposition or world building and not just fun plot or explicit scenes try to use the seemingly mundane interactions to your advantage to further the plot, introduce characters, build character(s), build relationships, foreshadow, or make fun references to canon.

For an example of all of the above points, in my story Disorder, Tony and Peter have their first meeting, and what’s holding them back from being together is Peter’s age and his poor mental health and self-image. He has a lot of good moments and bad moments, and doesn’t just lose weight and gain confidence over night. I take Tony and Peter throughout a working relationship, then a friendship, and then the buildup of an intimate relationship, and when I’m not outlining every personal training session between the two, I’m building their relationships and friendships with other people and giving both of them a chance to interact in other spaces besides the gym. So Peter will be at school with Ned and MJ showing his sense of humour, interacting with Flash, and maybe mentioning the upcoming Decathlon ten chapters later, so that when I bring it up later, it doesn’t come out of nowhere. Then I might skip a week to the next lesson with Tony because if you’re reading a Starker story, obviously you want most of the interactions to be Tony/Peter. :)

Adding in more people than the main pairing makes for a well-rounded story because other characters exist and help make the main pairing who they are. (For Peter, I like Ned, MJ, May, Flash, and Mr. Delmar, and for Tony, I like Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Jarvis, and Nebula. Bucky is just a necessity for every story, also. ;) ) Making the side characters funny or interesting, or inserting running jokes about them will make the parts with those people more enjoyable to read, even if the pairing isn’t featured.

Short chapter length or transitional chapters are necessary, but can be tedious because you don’t want to have an info dump, but you don’t want to go through the pain of writing an entire interaction and scene just for the sake of increasing word count, so accepting that not every chapter is going to be the Best Chapter is important. If you need to get information across about the backstory, or exposition, you can have it expressed through dialogue, or do a little bit of info dumping at a time and try to weave it into other things, so it’s not huge chunks of info that can be boring or confusing.

Add a little bit of your own personality to the writing too. I’m not really a poetic writer, and I prefer to write snappy dialogue and let character dynamics do the work, but some people can talk about the flowering trees and the winding roads of the countryside. I don’t know anything about that lol, so when I try to write it, I feel silly and then the scene suffers because I’m not saying anything I actually care about. So write the style that feels most natural to you and it won’t be boring because you’ll be able to feel your energy in the story, and writers are what bring a lot of the emotion to the fan fiction. Every reader likes something different, so write for your own tastes and the people who like your style will stick around.

There’s a time and place for surprises or complications, but the type that you put into the story should be consistent with the expectations you and the readers have—whether you’ve stated these by your tags or the plot summary. Example, a coffee shop AU doesn’t turn into a sex worker AU, or soft, domestic Tony doesn’t turn into a dark stalker. Those are valid occurrences, but they’re so different that it’s not a fun twist for readers…it’s legitimately not what they signed up for. A surprise in Disorder that works is when you find out Tony’s own personal struggles during his POV with Rhodey. It adds depth to his character and another layer to his dynamic with Peter, but it isn’t shocking or contrary to what I’ve already written.

For most of Disorder, Tony and Peter each don’t think the other would be interested, or if they were, “not right now” or “not because of the age difference” etc... and I kept having them almost connect/admit it, but then I’d hold back. Knowing when and how I wanted them to get together from the very beginning helped with the slow burn as well because I had to think of how to get them from point A to B. I knew I wanted Peter to be at good place mentally, but not perfect, and I wanted May to be more accepting of the relationship, so it became a game of filling in the blanks instead of just starting a story with no end in sight, and then it feels difficult to give it direction.

Creating outlines and templates for a story helps me. Like a table that outlines which characters are featured in a chapter, and any major plot points, and just general info.This way when you go to write future chapters or edit, you don’t have to reread everything, and when it’s all laid out in front of you, it can be easier to be like, “Oh, this just happened in Chapter 1, so I don’t want another crazy event to happen in Chapter 5 because I want the energy of the story to be evenly spaced.”

Edit not just for grammar but for subtle mistakes like repeating a lot of the same phrases and words. I tend to overuse “just” and start a lot of sentences with, “well”, so I have to be careful of that. Also for continuity like if Peter is sitting down in one paragraph, and then you say he sat down in the next paragraph even though he’s already sitting...

Decide how you want your story to be regarding realism, whether it’s in the context of an AU or a canon-compliant story. Maybe you don’t care about being realistic to our universe, and maybe you want to write something completely off the wall. There should be some sort of structure and consistency with the characters so that the reader feels stable and like they can trust where you’re going. Even if you want to write a master/slave AU where Tony keeps Peter on a leash, or something like a body swap, there’s still things that you can do to keep it realistic in the context of that story. Like if Tony was portrayed as a very loyal and possessive master, he’s not going to be sharing Peter with someone later in the story, unless you’ve decided that him getting over that is necessary to the plot, and sufficient character building shows him slowly becoming more open. Or in a body swap, if Peter and Tony switch, they’re not going to immediately go and put each other at risk or use their bodies to betray one another.

So I don’t know what you’re writing, but no matter what, try creating mystery by leaving things unsaid/undiscovered, or raising questions within the plot for readers to find out later. You don’t have to give up everything right away! (I know it’s hard not to spill the beans, but it lets people figure things out on their own or wonder if you’ll mention it again.) (Make sure you remember if you’re doing this so you don’t accidentally create a plot hole.) An example of this in Disorder is raising the topic of will Peter go to college, or not. Eventually he decides. Another is why Tony doesn’t like to give cards in his gifts, and then eventually he gives one to Peter, and it makes it really special. <3

I hope this helps!