#How many other tiny changes could there be between versions

[ieidolon]

It's pretty well known, I think, that the 1899 American version of Dracula contains a line which the British version doesn't: Dracula tells the women "To-night is mine; tomorrow night, tomorrow night is yours!", but the first clause was not present in the original British version nor any subsequent English release.

I may have found another discrepancy between the American and British versions.

In the Dracula Daily screenshot, which seems to use the American text, Jonathan comments on the room where he's later attacked by the women that it must have been "occupied by ladies in bygone days". In my British Norton Critical Edition, edited by Auerbach and Skal, he only says it must have been "occupied in bygone days".

Auerbach and Skal, to their credit, make explicit note of the omission of "To-night is mine" on the relevant page. That footnote goes on to say that "Stoker's deletion of this sentence was understandable, for it leads to a different novel, one probably unpublishable in 1897 England. Stoker may have imagined that the America that produced his hero Walt Whitman would be more tolerant of men feeding on men".

They don't comment on the omission of "by ladies". For all I know, this might be a print error in mine. But if it isn't, I wonder if Stoker felt that Jonathan's identification with the image he has in his head of these long-gone women would be made too obvious by the association between this being the women's wing and it having "more air of comfort" than any other he'd seen in the castle.

[ssa-aaron-hotchnerr]

How to Cure Insomnia (Hotchner’s Version)

about: Aaron likes to show up in your hotel room when neither of you can sleep

warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering, aaron is a sweetheart, nicknames (call reader honey), aftercare, not really proof read

word count: 1462

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment things had changed between you and Hotch.

Perhaps it was the weekend you’d spent cramped in a tiny motel room while doing an interview with a serial killer. There had been one queen bed and a lumpy couch. He was ever the gentleman and offered to take the couch. By night two you’d forced him to join you in the bed, even building a pillow wall to maintain a modicum of decency. 

Maybe it had been the night he’d knocked on your hotel door because he’d had a feeling you’d still be awake. And there you were, hunched over some case files even though you’d be flying home in the morning. He’d ended up staying the whole night as you two raided the hotel minibar and talked. 

It became a routine of sorts. 

When people had to share rooms, you bunked with him. If one of you couldn’t sleep you’d text the other – sometimes he’d even show up at your door unannounced – and keep each other company until one of you at least found some sleep. 

But eventually talking wasn’t part of the routine. Instead he’d press his lips against yours, peel off your clothes with expert precision, before he was pressing you into the mattress. The feel of his body against your own chased your thoughts away. He’d strip you down to your barest form where nothing else mattered – not your job, not the rest of the world, nothing but each other. It put you both to sleep. 

Today was another one of those nights. You’d gotten home from a particularly rough case the night before and you hadn’t slept a minute. Tonight was much of the same. You’d been trying to relax all day, considering you had only a few days off, but you’d been restless. 

You were a glass of wine and half an episode of a trashy reality tv show into your evening, before you finally texted Aaron. 

During cases you didn’t mind dragging him into your room. But when you were home, you felt like there was an invisible line drawn between you two. He had a son and a life outside of work. You didn’t want to interrupt that. But you hadn’t slept in nearly 48 hours. 

You: Hi

You chewed on your bottom lip – a nervous habit – as you waited for a response. 

A text never came but there was a knock on your apartment door. Eyebrows shot up as you clambered off the couch. You weren’t sure who was here considering you didn’t have many friends outside of the BAU. 

You weren’t expecting to see Aaron Hotchner standing in your doorway, holding his phone up. You could see your text message lit up on the screen. “Hey.” 

“Were you seriously already on your way over?” you asked, humor lacing your words. “Before I even texted?"

Aaron shrugged. “Jack’s asleep and Jessica was staying the night anyway. Figured you’d still be awake.” 

You opened your door wider, letting him step inside your apartment. He’d only been here a few times but it felt like he belonged in the space whenever he was inside. He’d slotted himself into your life like the perfect puzzle piece. 

He glanced around, taking in the sight of your wine glass and the faint hum of the tv. “Trying to bore yourself to sleep?” he asked, gesturing to screen. 

You shrugged. “Needed something to stop myself from thinking too much.”

“I think I can take care of that for you.” He moved towards you, gently pressing his lips against yours. 

“That sounds better,” you murmured against his mouth. 

He backed you up, guiding you to your own bedroom. Pieces of clothing were discarded as you stumbled through your house. By the time you made it to the bed, the only thing keeping you separated from him was underwear.

He nudged your thighs apart as he hovered over you. He dipped his fingers between your legs, dragging them through your slick folds.

“You were waiting for me to come over, weren’t you honey?” 

You nodded. “Yeah,” you replied breathlessly. You were always waiting for him. 

He sunk two of his fingers into your wet heat, curling them. He knew your body well by now. He knew just how to make you cry out for him, back arching off the mattress. As he slowly pumped his fingers, he pressed his thumb to your clit. 

“Aaron,” you keened. 

“Shh,” he hushed you gently. “It’s late. Don’t want to wake your neighbors, hm?” 

“N-no…” 

He pressed his lips against your, muffling any noise that came out of your mouth as he thoroughly fucked you with his fingers. Each pass of his thumb over your clit had you careening towards the edge. The knot in your tummy was close to snapping. And Aaron didn’t stop until your thighs were shaking. 

He slowly worked you through your first orgasm of the night. He never only left you with one. His goal was to tire you out and to make you feel good. 

You watched as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, peeling them down his legs. His cock was already hard and leaking precum. It was a sight you’d never tire of seeing. 

He ran the tip through your folds. “You want my cock?” 

“Yes,” you nodded, voice breaking off into a moan as he pressed his cock into your aching cunt. 

“Fuck,” he groaned as he bottomed out. “You always feel so good, honey.” 

Nails dug into his back as he rocked his hips against yours. Each roll of his hips had him hitting depths you didn’t know anyone could, brushing up against your g-spot with each movement. Moans tumbled out of your mouth. 

He hushed you again, hand coming up to cover your mouth. “What did I tell you about being loud, hm?” 

It was late. This was always what happened – he’d have to quiet you one way or another while he pounded you into the mattress. And you didn’t exactly want your neighbors to complain about the noise. So you let him clamp his hand over your mouth to muffle your sounds. 

His free hand moved across your body – raking across your tits, pinching at your nipples until they were hard, before moving down to find your clit. He rubbed tight, quick circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” he asked as he felt your cunt tighten around his length. You were gripping him like a vice, making him groan softly. His head dropped down and he pulled his hand away from your mouth, to claim your lips in a heated kiss. 

You nodded as best you could as you returned the kiss. 

Aaron was spurred on. He needed to feel you come undone around him. The feel of your perfect, warm cunt, squeezing him was the closest he’d ever get to heaven in this life. 

“Come for me, honey,” he mumbled against your mouth. 

That was all the encouragement you needed before the knot in your stomach was unraveling. Warmth spread through your body – like every nerve was on fire – and your toes curled. He worked you through your second orgasm of the night until he himself was coming undone. 

He buried himself to the hilt, as his body shook. “God, you feel so good,” he groaned. 

He tried not to totally collapse on top of you, but you seemed to have different plans. You tugged him all the way down so his body was completely blanketing your own. 

“You gotta let me clean you up,” he said, trying to untangle his limbs from your own. 

Reluctantly you let him leave your bed. He pulled his boxers up his hips as he headed for the bathroom. He’d been in here enough that he knew where you kept all your things. He grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet, wetting it, before returning to your bed. 

His hands were gentle as he cleaned up the mess he’d made between your thighs. 

“Thanks,” you murmured. 

He smiled softly. “Of course.” 

Once your body was cleaned up he pulled an oversized t-shirt from your drawer for you to wear. He settled back in bed next to you, letting you snuggle up against his side. 

While the multiple orgasms always helped you fall asleep, being tucked against him helped you sleep even more. With your head on his chest, you were already getting sleepy, eyes drooping shut. He played with your hair as you drifted off. 

“Thanks for coming over,” you whispered. 

“You know you don’t have to thank me for that, honey.” 

“I know. But still… thank you.” 

He kissed the top of your head. “Just go to sleep, honey. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Aaron.” 

[clairewritesfanfics]

hey! I have a tiny request

What would you think the Invincible!Variants would react if they see an Invincible!Reader?

Like, on their universes (Y/N) would be dead but it just happens that in one of the few universe where they are alive is one where she is invincible and now she is fighting in the invincible wars with them :D

(it’s my first request so I’m kinda confused on how it works 😔)

a/n: I went for a sillier approach with this one so it’s different from my usual narrative style (and by extension, sloppier than I would’ve wanted) but it was so much fun to write. I also took a few liberties with how Reader is able to fight because I only write Y/N as an OP baddie or an Everyman. There are no in-betweens in my delusions. Basically, she uses technology to fight, but she wears the Invincible colors in honor of her dead Mark. Happy reading.

Angstrom Levy watched as the mirror images of his sworn enemy gathered together. 

“I think we have all the Mark Graysons that we need.”

“Great.” The one whose cowl lacked any lenses cupped his fist. “Time to spill some blood.”

“Not so fast.”

“What?”

One last portal shimmered to life next to Angstrom and from it stepped out someone who was most definitely not Mark Grayson.

Angstrom motioned towards you. “Invincibles, meet Invincible.”

You wore a pair of goggles over your yellow cowl and there was a utility belt around your waist. You looked more like a cosplayer than a genuine Invincible. 

You were you but you were not you. Not the one they knew and loved and lost. The person they adored would have never donned such an outfit.

You raised a weak hand in salutation. A wry smile offered. “Hi there.” 

Every single version of the man tensed with emotion, their fists clenching beside them. Some of them stared at you, frozen. Others wanted to slam the teleporting freak to the wall.

“What’s the meaning of this, Angstrom!?”

“You said you only needed Mark Graysons, so–”

“–why is my dead wife here?”

Angstrom motioned for them to cool themselves. “I needed Invincibles. This one isn’t like any of you, but she took up the mantle when he died.”

Silence fell over the room.

Then, the one with a Mohawk protested, “She doesn’t belong here. She’s still just a human, isn’t she? Wearing a colorful costume won’t change that.”

You stood motionless despite his harsh words. 

“I wouldn’t be so quick to judge if I were you,” Angstrom said. “She destroyed her Earth in the span of an afternoon.”

Their eyes flickered over to you, but again, you showed no emotion.

“She’s here as… back up, in case you all fail.”

Five Marks flew towards him but stopped when you stood between them. Even with these many Viltrumites, you stood firm. Without your goggles, they could see you clearly. Gaunt, nose a little different, cheeks more sunken than what they were used to. Tired. 

Angstrom smiled.

Even if these fools knew that the person they loved was gone, they couldn’t bring themselves to raise a hand against your ghost, so they backed off.

Head Cap

Oliver slammed himself against the man’s back, but the Invincible copycat merely rotated his shoulders. “Thanks, I think you fixed it,” he let out a sound of pleasure. “Now, let’s fix you.”

The boy raised his arms to guard.

Several pros came to intercept, hitting this Mark with everything they got.

Before Oliver could move to help them, pure white beams struck his saviors. He could see through the gaping holes in their torsos before they fell over. Only he and Invincible were left standing.

His brother’s lookalike lifted his head, grinning as he raised both his thumbs in approval. “Thanks for the assist, babe!” 

Oliver followed his gaze up. 

It was… it wasn’t his brother, but the woman hovering above them wore the trademark yellow, blue and black Mark used to wear. The same bug-eyed goggles covered your eyes. Your lips were in a straight line.

You landed between the two guys. 

“You don’t have to stay and help me kill this one, I got it all under control.”

You threw a disc at Oliver, and it formed a blue, transparent cube around him. Despite his efforts, he could not punch through the walls.

“Do you know who this child is?” 

Mark cocked his head.

“He’s your half-brother.”

“Ah.” He let out a low chuckle, his sadistic smile turned resentful. “Dad’s other project, huh?”

“Mark couldn’t do it. He hated his brother, but even for him killing an infant was uncharted territory.”

“And he asked you to do it? What an asshole.” He sounded almost protective. 

You laughed. “He didn’t ask me to do anything, I just didn’t want him to be sad anymore.”

He stared at Oliver, still hitting the cube, even ramming his shoulder at the wall.

“...How did it feel?”

“I can’t remember to be honest, all I remember is Mark thanking me.” You recalled him holding you in his arms and kissing you all night. “Nothing else matters to me but him.” 

He snuck a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye.

You returned to the air. “The kinetic field around the kid will expire in a minute. So if you're going to kill him, be prepared."

Mark watched you fly away, fists clenching beside him as he thought about the other you, the one who was so soft she couldn’t bring herself to kill the mice in the kitchen. Gentle until the day she died. 

Flaxan Mark

One good electromagnetic pulse was all you needed to disarm the GDA. Concentrated antimatter bullets would ensure that their undead army won’t be returning. 

You decapitated Donald and Cecil in one swift motion. You didn’t have any strong feelings for either of them so there was no need for a painful death.

You watched Mark sit up, rubbing his head.

“Are you all right?” You asked, walking over to him.

He met your gaze, quiet as he examined you. 

This Mark seemed more composed than the others, more mature, too.

“I watched the footage.” You gestured around you. “You must really hate this place to gut it so mercilessly.”

He looked at you and said, “They killed you.” He raised his hands, looking at something visible only to him. “While I was gone, they took you. Wanted to see if they could use our baby to make someone better, someone more loyal to the humans.”

He closed his fists. “They deserve to burn, all of them.”

You folded your hands behind your back. There was nothing you could say to that.

No Goggles

Mark laughed maniacally as he struck down monster after monster. “Come on! You can do better than that, can't you? Come on, this is amazing! Kill me!”

A finger snapped from a distance and a bright light pierced the darkness, scaring the creatures away. “Hey, come back!”

“Mark,” called out an exasperated voice.

He gasped when you walked towards him, looking disappointed. 

He flew over to wrap his arms around you. “Shit, I wanted to talk to you earlier but there was never the right time, plus we had to destroy the whole world and all that, but God, you really are a babe wherever, or maybe whenever is the correct word–”

You pinched his lips. “We should leave first. Try to talk less, okay?”

He nodded obediently and you let go.

A portal cut open the white void, revealing a blue sky.

Before you could leave, the faintest whispers called out to you, “Mo…ther…”

Mark blinked and glanced at the corners where the darkness lingered. “Am I crazy or did those things just call you mother?”

“Yes and yes.”

You grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the Shadow-Verse and onto the sky above Chicago.

“Whoa…” Mark looked down at his feet. “Am I walking on air? Not flying but walking?”

“Yeah.” You sat down and watched him do cartwheels. 

“How long can I keep doing this?”

“For as long as I let you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Reaaaally?” 

“You can run, jump and do all the cartwheels you want until you drop dead and you still won’t fall, not unless I let you, but I’m getting tempted so you better start flying now.”

He chuckled and sat next to you, pulling his knees to his chest. “You’re dead in my reality.”

“I know.”

“You killed yourself.”

“Is that so?”

“It really fucked me up, in the brain and stuff.” He made a swooshing motion, pointing at his temple.

“I can imagine.”

He fell silent and watched you watch the world get destroyed below you.

He then asked, “Why did those things call you mother?”

“Honestly, I don’t know why they would. In my world, it makes sense. I created them, then I carved out a piece of time and space where I could discard them when they proved useless to me.”

He blinked. “Wow. You created the Shadow-Verse?”

“Well, the one in my world, yes. As for the ones here?” You shrugged. “My hypothesis is that there was a window between the pocket dimensions, causing them to mix.”

“That’s so cool!”

“I know. And Angstrom thinks he’s all that.”

“Can I ask a question?”

“You’ve been asking a lot.”

“If you can do all this, why didn’t you just hop worlds? Get yourself a new Mark? I’d be happy to be kidnapped.”

You chuckled and then looked up at the sky. “Who knows.”

Omni-Mark and Shiesty

The two of them were ganging up on this timeline’s Mark Grayson when Eve pushed them away with a giant pink wall.

You grabbed her cape and then dragged her away from the three. “You’re dead weight to him. Stay here if you want to live,” you ordered.

When you turned around, a heavy shackle enveloped your arm, chaining you to herself with a thick fuchsia rope.

You sighed. “Truly an idiot in every reality.”

“I saw you–you’re with those guys. I don’t know why you saved me but I know that you’re bad news.”

You gave her a look that reminded Eve of an unforgiving winter. Her heart pounded violently as she struggled to breathe. She's faced death before, faced villains as strong as Mark himself, but nothing made her buckle the way you did at this moment.

She swallowed her fear despite her shaking hands. “Surrender now.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll have to take you by force.” 

“Oh?” For the first time since you’ve arrived in this damned universe, you smirked, turning your whole body to face hers directly. “You’re welcome to try.”

You tapped the pink construct, shattering it into a thousand fragments. In a split second, you were pinning her down the ground. "Is that it?"

You grabbed her chin and forced her eyes to look directly into yours. “I am unimpressed.” Your goggles shone red and Eve screamed.

She rolled around the dirt, cradling her head and gasping in pain.

“Eve!”

Your suit’s electromagnetic force field flashed blue as the Invincible of this world tried to hit you. “What did you do to her?!”

“No need to look so angry,” you said, face blank. “This is a mercy compared to what I did to the other one.” That Eve died brutally, but so quickly you didn’t even get the chance to laugh. 

You then vanished from the ground, reappearing between the two hovering Marks. “Let’s go.”

Shiesty turned to you. “Why?”

“There’s no point in fighting him now, he’s going to choose her, probably hide away for a few hours.”

“What makes you think that?”

Omni-Mark answered instead, looking straight at you, "Because we would've chosen you if we were in his place."

Aftermath

All of the Marks kept their eyes on you while they waited for Angstrom. Some of them had the decency to be subtle. Others, like the adorable little freak who got stuck in the Shadow-Verse, looked just about ready to hump you.

Bored, you turned your attention to the Mark without a mask, suit tainted with blood. “You look at me differently than the others do.”

His hands twitched but he kept them close together in front of him as he answered, “It’s just… you weren’t a woman where I come from.”

“How fascinating. Not outside the realm of probability though. If anything, me being a girl in these guys' universes is odd.”

He tilted his head. How cute.

“Contrary to popular belief, a child’s biological sex is not a 50/50 chance. It’s slightly more likely to be a boy than a girl.” You leaned towards him. “Tell me, was I any handsome?”

Taken aback, he blinked. Then he closed his eyes, smiling before he faced you again. “You’re always breathtaking.”

Your brow twitched and you looked away, crossing your arms.

The others watched, unhappy. Various emotions layered onto each other, growing heavier with the silence. 

“What’s taking him so long?” 

Tired of waiting, you folded one leg over the other. A whole tea set manifested before you, turning the tense silence into awkward awe.

Shiesty floated closer to you while you dropped a sugar cube into your teacup. “Hey, uh, I didn't get to ask earlier, but what the Hell did you do to Eve?”

The teacups dispersed, delivering themselves to the different variants. Too confused to do anything else, they accepted their shares. The little jar containing sugar cubes bounced between them, a parade of silver teaspoons right behind it. A three tier platter stayed in the middle of the circle they formed.

Shiesty took a mini quiche and gave it a taste.

The veil fluttered, revealing a slither of his jaw. 

Unconsciously, you reached over to trace the corner of his face. 

He flinched and you pulled back. “Sorry. It’s been a while since I last saw Mark this close. Anyway,” you started, gently blowing on the tea, “I took away her powers.”

“I see.” He plopped a sugar cube into his cup before he realized what you just said. “What? You can do that? All you did was flash a red light at her!”

Omni-Mark stared at his tea for a while. He then said, “You lobotomized her.”

“I did.” 

The other Marks turned to you. “What?”

Shiesty gave them a brief explanation of what happened. “You should’ve seen it, it was hella hilarious–and hot. The other guy couldn’t even land a punch.”

“Whoa, backup.” It was Mohawk this time. “Lobotomized her? As in brain surgery? In the field?”

You shrugged. “It wasn’t that complicated.” You watched a superhero do it before–granted, it was a cartoon but it gave you the idea for a powerful skill. 

You opened your palm, showing a holographic display of the human brain. “Superhumans are just mutated humans, and for someone like Eve whose mutation is psionic-based, all I needed to do was find the abnormal gyri in her brain that differentiate hers from that of ordinary people.” Several portions of the brain glowed. “My goggles can let me see through things, like human skulls, and they’re built with a precision laser perfect for neurosurgery.” 

“I don’t get it,” Omni-Mark said. “Why didn’t you just kill her?”

You traced the rim of your teacup. “Eve, like many heroes, ties her self-worth and identity to her powers. I already killed her before. I didn’t feel anything…”

You smiled at them, it was a sweet and innocent smile that took them back to nicer times. “Rather than murder, forcing her to live a life where she is no longer special feels more satisfying. For someone like her, losing her gift must feel like the sky is falling.” You do regret not being there to see her face when she realizes what happened. Will she cry? Scream some more? Fall into despair? 

You covered your curling mouth. “Ah, what a shame.”

a/n: I'm sorry, I couldn't include all the Marks, and I'm really sorry for the sloppy writing. I was going to write more scenes, specifically for Retro/Gogglesinvincible/the one who Rex killed, but I wrote this between breaks and I really wanted to post it immediately.

Dear Readers, if you have any questions or further requests, feel free to send them now because i will be closing my ask box this upcoming Sunday. MASTERLIST | request rules | ask box

Disclaimer: The images above are not mine but are screenshots from the Invincible TV series.

[goofygubegubler]

Spencer reid 7 mins in heaven👀

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒍𝒚 (𝑺.𝑹)

wc : 687 | F!Reader (Established Relationship – First Kiss) | cw: intense makeout, sexual tension, confined space, emotional vulnerability, nervous rambling, Spencer being quietly confident

A/n : Hit me up if you want a smuttier version where they’re just ripping each other’s clothes off and Spencer is being all quietly confident (my current weakness, don’t judge me ahhh).

Seven minutes. Just seven minutes.

You muttered the words under your breath as the door to the dimly lit closet clicked shut, sealing you inside with Spencer. A week ago, this wouldn’t have been a big deal. A week ago, he was just your best friend.

But now?

Now he was your boyfriend. Officially. And that changed everything.

You weren’t even sure how you ended up here. You’d planned to come to the party on your own—it was your friend’s birthday—but Spencer, ever the protective one, had insisted on tagging along. Not because he liked parties. He hated them. Crowds, noise, unpredictability—everything about them made him uneasy.

But he came anyway. Jacket half-zipped, anxiety tucked behind his polite smile, just to make sure you were safe.

And now? Somehow, the night had taken a wild turn, and you were being shoved into a closet with him during a round of Seven Minutes in Heaven. The scent of old wood, alcohol, and too many teenage mistakes clung to the air.

Your heart thundered.

You leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, trying to still your thoughts.

"Okay, so technically, we don’t have to do anything," you blurted. Your voice was higher than normal, tinged with nervous laughter. "It’s not a rule or anything. People act like you have to make out, but that’s just peer pressure. We could just stand here. Talk. We talk all the time, right?"

Spencer didn’t flinch. He simply watched you, calm as ever, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"We do talk a lot," he said.

You gestured around the tiny closet. "Exactly! So this is just another conversation. In a super cramped, badly lit box that smells like someone’s bad decisions."

He chuckled, soft and low. The sound sent a bolt of heat straight through you.

You could feel how close he was—how one step forward would have you pressed chest to chest. The air between you changed, charged and heavy, your breath catching in your throat.

"I mean—it’s funny, right? Because we haven’t even—"

You stopped yourself, cheeks flushing.

Spencer raised an eyebrow. "Haven’t even what?"

Your voice dropped to a whisper. "Kissed."

Silence stretched, thick and unspoken.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just looked at you like he could read every word you hadn’t said.

Then he glanced at his watch.

"We have approximately four minutes and twenty-six seconds left."

You blinked. "So… what do you want to do with that time?"

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he stepped forward.

Slow. Deliberate. Sure.

One hand came up to your jaw, his fingers feather-light as they brushed your cheek. The other settled at your waist, grounding you.

And then—he kissed you.

Hot. Intentional. A little messy in the best way.

You gasped softly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt.

His lips moved with slow precision, like he was learning the shape of your mouth, the sound of your breath. His tongue swept against yours, teasing, drawing out a whimper you didn’t recognize as your own.

Your back hit the wall. His body pressed into yours. His hand at your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him.

You melted into it. Into him.

Your fingers found his hair, tugging gently. He groaned into your mouth—low, raw—and the sound made your stomach twist and your legs nearly give out.

It was more than just a kiss. It was everything unspoken, everything simmering beneath every glance and conversation. Pent-up, burning.

When you finally broke for air, you were both panting.

Foreheads pressed together. Lips still brushing. Breaths mingling.

"We really wasted the first half of this, huh?" you whispered.

Spencer’s voice was rough, low. "We’ve got time to make up for it."

And then—

Knock, knock.

“Time’s up, lovebirds!” someone called, followed by exaggerated giggles and mock gagging.

You flinched, but didn’t pull away completely.

A breathless laugh escaped you. "So, uh… that happened."

Spencer smiled, rare and wicked. "It did."

Neither of you moved just yet. The moment lingered, soft and full of unspoken promises.

And somehow, seven minutes didn’t feel like enough at all.

[mocharyc]

𝙰𝚣𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝙷𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚜

♡ Invincible variants x reader ♡

☆ WC: 8k+ [Build off] ☆ TW: fluff (kissing with Mohawk!!)

☆ Authors note: Hello!! This is the spin-off from my main series on Invincible Variants x reader. However, this can be read separately as well :)  The first two chapters are fluff(kissing), then it’ll get spicy with Mohawk and Omni Mark, and maybe a few other variants to your guy's suggestions⸜(˃ᵕ˂)⸝♡

This is mainly cutesy stuff and slow plot build :3

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The alien sun cast long, golden fingers of light across the valley as Y/N stood surrounded by the variants, each a different version of the same man, yet wholly unique in their own right. The fortress in the distance glimmered like a mirage, its spires and walls catching the last rays of sunlight in a display that seemed almost deliberately welcoming.

"Should we explore our new home before nightfall?" Y/N suggested, her voice carrying easily in the pristine air of this untouched world.

Lensless Mark bounced forward, practically vibrating with excitement. "Race you there!" he challenged, eyes bright with mischief. Before anyone could respond, he was off, a blur of motion streaking across the lush field, leaving a trail of flattened grass in his wake.

"Some things never change," Phantom Mark observed, the voice modulator in his mask unable to entirely mask the fondness in his tone. He turned to Y/N, head tilted slightly. "Shall we?"

"Not so fast," Omni Mark interrupted, his gaze fixed on the semi-conscious Angstrom still sprawled on the ground. "We need to decide what to do with him first."

Sinister sauntered over to Angstrom, crouching beside his prone form. The yellow and black of his suit seemed to absorb the golden sunlight, transforming the bright colors into something molten and dangerous. "I have several creative suggestions," he offered, running a finger along Angstrom's mangled jawline with deceptive gentleness.

"No more death," Y/N reminded him, stepping forward to place a restraining hand on Sinister's shoulder. "Not here. Not in our new beginning."

Sinister looked up at her, conflict evident in his eyes—the killer he had been battling with something softer, something that responded to her touch like a plant turning toward sunlight. After a moment, he rose to his feet with fluid grace, capturing her hand before it could fall away from his shoulder.

"As you wish, dove," he murmured, bringing her fingertips to his lips. The kiss was gentle, contradicting everything his reputation suggested. His eyes never left hers as his lips pressed against her skin, warm and surprisingly soft despite the constant smirk that usually occupied them. Before finally releasing her hand with a reductant sigh.

Viltrumite Mark stepped forward, his white suit pristine against the wild backdrop of their new world. His features had softened since the conflict just hours before, "The fortress may have suitable containment facilities," he suggested, voice deep and measured. "I've seen similar designs across many worlds.

"We should contain him," No-Mask Mark suggested, his unprotected face openly displaying his concern. "His powers are too dangerous to leave unchecked."

"The fortress might have something suitable," Omni Mark agreed, stooping to lift Angstrom with ease. "For now, I'll carry him."

They set off across the field, the tall grass brushing against their legs like a caress. The vegetation wasn't quite like Earth's—each blade seemed to shift between emerald and azure depending on how the light hit it, creating rippling waves of color as they moved through the field. Small creatures, resembling something between butterflies and hummingbirds, darted away from their approach, trailing iridescent particles that evaporated into the air like tiny fireworks.

Mohawk fell into step beside Y/N, close enough that their arms occasionally brushed. Each casual contact sent a subtle current through her skin, awareness blooming in unexpected ways. He seemed different here—less coiled with rage, as if the very air of this new world was already beginning to work subtle changes in him.

"You doing okay?" His mohawk caught the breeze, strands dancing slightly as he turned to study her face with unexpected intensity, the brown of his eyes softened with an emotion that made her breath catch.

Y/N nodded, surprised by the genuine peace beginning to settle over her. "Better than okay," she admitted. "I feel... free. Like I can finally breathe."

Mohawk's fingers found hers, tentatively at first, then more confidently when she didn't pull away. His hand engulfed hers, calloused palm warm against her skin, his touch a grounding presence in this strange new reality. "I never thought I'd feel that again," he confessed quietly, the usual harsh edge in his voice softened to something almost vulnerable. "After I lost her—after I lost control—I thought rage was all I had left."

Y/N squeezed his hand gently, letting her thumb trace small circles against his skin. The simple gesture seemed to affect him deeply; she watched as his throat worked with emotion. "And now?"

A smile touched his lips—not his usual feral grin but something genuine that transformed his entire face, erasing years of hardness in an instant, creating dimples she'd never noticed before. "Now I'm thinking maybe there's more to life than breaking shit," he replied, the crude language somehow endearing in its sincerity.

When they reached the base of the hill leading to the fortress, Lensless Mark was already waiting, sprawled dramatically on the ground with arms and legs spread wide as if making an angel in the strange blue-green grass.

"Took you slow-pokes long enough!" he called, jumping to his feet with boundless energy. His enthusiasm was infectious, bringing reluctant smiles even to the most serious faces among them.

The fortress itself was even more impressive up close—neither fully ancient nor modern, its architecture seeming to blend elements from across time and space into something uniquely harmonious. Massive stone blocks formed the foundation, transitioning seamlessly into graceful spires and arches that defied Earth physics. The entire structure gleamed with an inner light, as if the stone itself was somehow luminescent.

"It's beautiful," Y/N breathed as they approached the imposing entrance. Massive doors of some unknown material—not quite metal, not quite wood—stood closed before them, etched with intricate patterns that seemed to shift and change if watched too closely.

"How do we get in?" No-Mask Mark wondered, approaching the doors cautiously.

Before anyone could suggest a solution, the doors began to open inward, sliding silently despite their obvious weight. Light spilled out from within, warm and welcoming.

"It's responding to us," Phantom Mark observed, his masked face tilted in curiosity. "As if it was expecting us."

"Or built for us," Omni Mark added thoughtfully, adjusting his grip on the still-unconscious Angstrom.

They stepped through the massive doorway into a vast entrance hall. The ceiling soared overhead, supported by columns that resembled tree trunks, complete with intricate branch-like protrusions that intertwined to form natural arches. The floor beneath their feet was polished to a mirror shine, reflecting the soft amber light that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves rather than any visible fixtures.

"This place is fucking amazing," Mohawk breathed, his usual profanity softened by genuine wonder. His wide eyes reflected the amber light, making them appear almost golden as he took in the majesty around them. His grip on Y/N's hand tightened slightly, as if needing to ground himself in the face of such beauty.

Viltrumite Mark ran his palm along one of the columns, his face softening with appreciation. "I've visited a thousand worlds," he murmured, "and never seen craftsmanship like this. Even the Imperial Palace on Viltrum pales in comparison to this architectural harmony."

Lensless Mark was already racing ahead, darting between columns with delight. His laughter echoed through the vast space, untainted by the darkness that had consumed them all for so long. "There are rooms everywhere!" he called back. "Bedrooms, kitchens, libraries—this place has everything!"

"Libraries?" No-Mask perked up, his academic interests immediately piqued.

"Kitchens?" Sinister echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Do we even need to eat here?"

"We should explore systematically," Omni Mark suggested. Despite his logical approach, there was an undercurrent of wonder in his tone, a softness in his eyes that hadn't been there during the war. "First, we need to secure Angstrom, then establish our basic needs."

Y/N stepped further into the hall, drawn by an inexplicable feeling of familiarity. "It's like it knows us," she murmured, running her fingers along one of the columns. The surface was warm beneath her touch, almost responsive, like skin rather than stone. "Like it was designed specifically for us."

"Maybe it was," Phantom Mark suggested, his voice distorted yet thoughtful through his mask. "The multiverse works in ways none of us fully understand."

They found a secure room deep within the fortress—one with walls of the same strange material as the entrance doors and no windows to offer escape. They placed Angstrom inside, still unconscious but breathing steadily, and sealed the door behind them.

"He'll be contained here until we decide what to do with him," Omni Mark stated with quiet authority.

As evening settled over their new world, they gathered in what appeared to be a central living space—a circular room with comfortable seating arranged around a central firepit where blue flames danced without consuming any visible fuel. The twin moons were visible through a domed skylight overhead, casting silvery light that mingled with the blue fire's glow.

Y/N sank onto one of the cushioned seats, suddenly aware of the bone-deep exhaustion that had been held at bay by adrenaline and necessity. The events of the past days—the war, the decisions, the dimensional travel—crashed over her in a wave of delayed reaction.

Omni Mark noticed immediately, settling beside her with quiet concern. His movements were careful, controlled, as if afraid she might shatter if handled too roughly. "You should rest," he murmured, his voice gentle. "It's been... a lot."

She nodded, too tired to argue, yet reluctant to leave this moment—their first peaceful gathering in their new home. "I will. Soon."

Mohawk dropped onto the floor in front of her seat, leaning back against her legs with casual possession that somehow didn't feel presumptuous. The weight of him against her was solid, grounding, his mohawk tickling her knees through the material of her flight suit. He tilted his head back to look up at her, the blue fire casting shadows across the planes of his face, softening his usually harsh features.

One by one, the others settled around the fire—Phantom claiming a high-backed chair that accommodated his rigid posture, No-Mask sprawling on a chaise longue with uncharacteristic relaxation, Lensless perching on the edge of a seat before jumping up again to explore the room's perimeter. Viltrumite Mark chose a seat with a commanding view of the entire room, his posture still regal despite the informal setting. Sinister remained standing for a time, silhouetted against the firelight like a predator assessing new territory, before finally claiming a seat directly across from Y/N, his eyes never leaving her face.

"So," No-Mask broke the comfortable silence, openly displaying his curiosity. "What do we call this place?"

 "Home," Mohawk answered immediately, tilting his head back to catch Y/N's gaze, seeking confirmation. The blue fire reflected in his eyes, transforming them into something ethereal. There was a raw vulnerability in the way he spoke the word, as if he'd never truly understood its meaning until now.

Y/N smiled, her hand dropping almost unconsciously to his shoulder. Her fingers traced small patterns there, feeling the tension in his muscles gradually release under her touch. "Home," she agreed softly.

"Azure Horizons," Viltrumite Mark suggested, his deep voice carrying easily across the circle. When the others looked at him questioningly, a faint smile touched his lips, softening the imperial bearing that had become second nature to him. "For the blue-green fields that stretch as far as the eye can see. For new beginnings that hold infinite possibilities."

The conversation flowed from there—tentative at first, then with increasing ease as they began to explore not just their surroundings but each other. For the first time, they weren't enemies or reluctant allies bound by circumstance, but potential friends—even family—by choice.

Lensless broke into periodic fits of laughter as he recounted his race up the hill, mimicking the surprise of the strange creatures he'd disturbed along the way. His animated gestures and expressive face had even Phantom's shoulders shaking with silent amusement.

"And then this thing—" Lensless mimed something with multiple legs and a fan-like tail, "—it just made this noise like 'PFFFFFT' and shot straight up about twenty feet!" He demonstrated by leaping from his seat, nearly hitting his head on a low-hanging light fixture.

"Careful, you idiot," Mohawk growled, though there was no real heat in the words. A reluctant grin tugged at his lips as he watched Lensless hop around the room, still mimicking the startled creature.

Y/N found herself drifting, the gentle cadence of their voices washing over her like a lullaby, the warmth of the fire and the solid presence of Mohawk against her legs lulling her toward sleep. She fought it for a time, not wanting to miss these precious moments of normalcy, but eventually her eyes grew too heavy to keep open.

She wasn't sure when she slipped from consciousness, only that she became vaguely aware of being lifted, strong arms cradling her against a warm chest. The scent of clean sweat and subtle cologne wrapped around her—Omni Mark, she realized without opening her eyes. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear as he carried her through the fortress corridors.

"I can walk," she mumbled, the words slurred with exhaustion.

"I know," he replied, his voice a gentle rumble she could feel through his chest. "But you don't have to."

He carried her into a room she hadn't seen before—spacious and elegant, dominated by a large bed with covers turned down invitingly. The walls here seemed to glow with a softer light than the main halls, creating an atmosphere of peaceful sanctuary.

Omni Mark set her down on the edge of the bed with extraordinary gentleness, crouching before her to remove her boots. Each movement was careful, respectful, his touch clinical yet somehow tender as he eased her feet free.

"You should probably change," he suggested, nodding toward what appeared to be a wardrobe across the room. "There seem to be clothes here. For all of us."

Y/N blinked, trying to process this information through the fog of fatigue. "How is that possible?"

Omni Mark shook his head, a small smile touching his lips. "I don't know. This place... it's like it was waiting for us. Everything we need seems to be here."

He rose to his feet, towering over her for a moment before stepping back to give her space. "Rest now," he said softly. "Tomorrow we can explore properly. Figure out what this place is, what it means."

As he turned to leave, Y/N reached out impulsively, catching his hand. "Stay?" she asked, the single word laden with vulnerability she would never have shown during the chaotic days of the war. "Just... until I fall asleep?"

Omni Mark's expression softened, the permanent crease between his brows easing slightly. Without a word, he settled onto the edge of the bed beside her, still holding her hand in his much larger one. His thumb traced gentle patterns across her knuckles, the simple contact conveying more comfort than words ever could.

Y/N leaned her head against his shoulder, breathing in the scent that had already become familiar, already begun to register as safety in her mind. "Thank you," she murmured.

"For what?" he asked, voice rumbling through her where their bodies connected.

"For suggesting this. For giving us all a chance at something new."

His free hand came up to stroke her hair, fingers threading through the strands with careful tenderness. "We all deserved it," he replied simply. "Especially you."

They sat in comfortable silence, his hand continuing its gentle ministrations until Y/N's breathing deepened and slowed. Just before sleep claimed her completely, she felt him shift, easing her down onto the pillows with extraordinary care. The covers settled over her with whisper-soft weight, and then the ghost of lips pressed against her forehead—so gentle she might have imagined it.

"Sleep well, Y/N," Omni Mark whispered, the words following her down into dreams. "Tomorrow begins our real story."

Morning arrived with golden light filtering through windows Y/N hadn't noticed the night before—tall, arched openings that revealed a view of the valley below their fortress hill. She stretched languidly, surprised by how deeply she had slept, how refreshed she felt after just one night in this strange new world.

The wardrobe Omni Mark had mentioned stood open now, revealing clothing in various styles and colors—all seemingly her size. She selected simple attire—soft pants and a flowing top in a shade that matched the blue-green grass outside—before making her way back toward the central living area.

The fortress was even more beautiful in daylight, sunlight streaming through cleverly placed skylights and windows to illuminate the intricate architecture. As Y/N wandered the corridors, she noticed details missed in the previous evening's exhaustion—living plants integrated into the design, small fountains creating musical water features at unexpected intervals, artwork depicting landscapes both familiar and alien adorning walls of polished stone.

She found Phantom Mark in what appeared to be a training room—a vast space with weapons mounted on walls and a floor padded for combat practice. He moved through a complex kata with fluid grace, his masked face turned toward the ceiling as if in meditation despite the physical exertion.

He paused when he noticed her watching, body freezing mid-motion before relaxing into a more neutral stance. "Good morning," he greeted, voice slightly mechanical through his mask's filter.

"Morning," she replied, stepping into the room. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Some," he admitted, moving toward her with his characteristic grace. Even in this peaceful setting, there was something predatory about his movements—not threatening, but unmistakably powerful. "The mask makes it... complicated."

Y/N studied him, noting the tension in his shoulders despite his relaxed tone. "You know," she said carefully, "in this new world, you could take it off. If you wanted to."

His hand came up reflexively to touch the edge of his mask, fingers tracing the seam where it met his suit. "Perhaps," he acknowledged, voice softer now. "Someday. When I'm ready."

Without thinking, Y/N reached up to place her hand over his where it rested on his mask. "No rush," she assured him. "We have time now. All the time we need."

Even through his mask and his gloves, she felt the slight tremor that ran through him at her touch. His other hand came up to cover hers, sandwiching her fingers between his in a gentle hold.

"Thank you," he said simply, the words carrying weight beyond their simplicity.

They remained like that for a long moment—connected by touch, by understanding, by the unspoken bond forming between all of them in this strange new world. Then, with gentle precision, Phantom Mark raised her hand to the eye-level of his mask, examining her fingers with apparent fascination.

"So small," he murmured, almost to himself. "So fragile compared to us. Yet so strong in all the ways that truly matter."

Before Y/N could respond, he pressed the lower part of his mask to her knuckles—the closest approximation to a kiss the barrier would allow. The gesture was unexpectedly tender, sending a flutter of warmth through her chest. Despite the unyielding material between them, she could feel the warmth of his breath through the mask's ventilation, the careful pressure of his lips beneath the barrier.

"The others are gathering for breakfast," he said, releasing her hand with apparent reluctance. "Shall we join them?"

They found the rest of the group in a spacious kitchen that opened onto a terrace overlooking the valley. The scene that greeted them was so incongruously domestic that Y/N paused in the doorway, momentarily stunned by the sight.

Mohawk stood at a cooking surface, cursing cheerfully as he flipped something that resembled pancakes with more enthusiasm than skill. He'd abandoned his suit for loose pants and a fitted tank top that revealed the powerful muscles of his arms and shoulders, dotted with scars that told stories of countless battles. His mohawk was slightly disheveled from sleep, giving him an oddly endearing appearance.

"Flip, you little bastard!" he growled at a particularly stubborn pancake, brandishing the spatula like a weapon. His brow furrowed in concentration, the tip of his tongue poking out between his teeth as he focused with the same intensity he once reserved for combat. When he finally managed to turn it, revealing a perfectly golden-brown surface, his face lit up,. "Ha! See that? Perfection!"

No-Mask was arranging what appeared to be local fruits in a bowl, his precision suggesting the academic's approach to even the most mundane tasks. He'd exchanged his suit for simple earth-toned clothing that softened his appearance, making him look more like the college professor he might have been in another life. His expressive face revealed every thought—concentration, satisfaction, occasional frustration when a particularly stubborn piece of fruit wouldn't stay where he wanted it.

Viltrumite Mark sat at the head of the table, posture perfect even in this casual setting, peeling what looked like a star-shaped fruit with precise movements. His white suit had been replaced by more casual attire—a simple tunic and pants in pale colors that still managed to convey authority. The centuries of imperial bearing couldn't be completely erased, but there was a relaxed set to his shoulders that hadn't been there before. His brown hair was loose around his head rather than slicked back in its usual severe style.

"The composition of these fruits is fascinating," Viltrumite observed, examining a slice with interest. "The molecular structure must be quite different from Earth's flora to achieve these color-shifting properties."

Lensless bounced between the various food preparation areas, stealing tastes of everything with delight, earning half-hearted swats from Mohawk and exasperated sighs from No-Mask. He'd traded his suit for loose, colorful t-shirt and shorts that perfectly matched his exuberant personality. His hair stuck up at odd angles, giving him a perpetually surprised look that somehow suited him perfectly. His energy seemed boundless even in this peaceful setting, body in constant motion as if stillness was physically impossible for him.

"That's the third piece you've stolen!" No-Mask protested as Lensless snagged another piece of color-shifting fruit. "If you keep eating them all before breakfast, there won't be any left for the rest of us."

"Can't help it," Lensless mumbled through a full mouth, juice dribbling down his chin. He wiped it away with the back of his hand, leaving a shimmering streak across his skin that caught the morning light. "They're just so good! Like candy but also kind of minty? But also sort of citrusy?" He gestured wildly with the half-eaten fruit. "It's like a flavor explosion!"

Sinister lounged against a counter, observing the others with amusement while sipping from a steaming mug. Unlike the others, he hadn't fully abandoned his signature colors, wearing a black shirt with subtle yellow accents that emphasized his lean, powerful build. His hair was artfully tousled in a way that suggested careful styling rather than sleep, and his usual predatory grace remained intact even in this domestic setting. His eyes tracked Y/N the moment she entered, a slow smile spreading across his face.

Only Omni Mark was missing, likely still dealing with their prisoner somewhere in the fortress depths. 

"Well, look who finally decided to join us," Mohawk called, spotting Y/N in the doorway. His usual gruffness was tempered by obvious pleasure at seeing her, his entire face transforming when their eyes met. The crease between his brows smoothed momentarily, and that rare genuine smile—the one that created unexpected dimples in his stubbled cheeks—bloomed across his face. "Hope you're hungry. I'm making my famous galaxy-famous pancakes."

"Is that what those are supposed to be?" Sinister drawled, eyebrow arched in mock surprise. He set his mug down with deliberate grace, pushing himself off the counter in one fluid motion that reminded Y/N of a jungle cat stretching. His eyes— like dark chocolate in the morning light rather than their usual predatory gleam—never left her face as he moved, cataloging her expressions with the same intensity he once reserved for tracking prey. "I thought you were developing a new form of building material."

"Fuck off," Mohawk retorted without heat, flipping another pancake. A lopsided grin belied his harsh words, the camaraderie between them something entirely new and unexpected. He brandished the spatula like a weapon, flecks of blue batter splattering across the counter. "At least I'm contributing, pretty boy. What are you doing besides taking up space and looking decorative?"

"Quality control," Sinister replied smoothly, sauntering over to Y/N with predatory grace. His movements were deliberately unhurried, each step calculated to draw attention to the fluid power of his body.

"Good morning, dove," he murmured, leaning in to place a lingering kiss at the corner of her mouth. The subtle scent of him enveloped her—something spiced and dangerous that somehow belonged perfectly in this peaceful kitchen. His lips lingered at the corner of her mouth, warm and soft against her skin, leaving a ghost of sensation even after he pulled away.

Behind them, Mohawk's spatula clattered against the cooking surface with unnecessary force. "For fuck's sake, some of us are trying to cook here," he grumbled, though there was more resignation than genuine anger in his tone. His eyes, however, tracked Sinister's every movement with the wariness of a predator recognizing a rival.

"Sleep well?" Sinister asked, seemingly oblivious to the territorial display behind him.

Y/N felt heat rise to her cheeks at the public display, acutely aware of the others watching with varying degrees of interest. "Yes, thank you," she managed, stepping past him into the kitchen proper.

Viltrumite Mark cleared his throat softly, "Perhaps you might allow Y/N some space to breathe before laying claim as you already tried to do so, Sinister," he suggested, his tone courteous yet leaving no room for argument. His fingers, continued their methodical work with the star-shaped fruit, though his eyes—warm brown with flecks of gold remained fixed on Sinister with quiet warning.

Sinister stepped back with exaggerated deference, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Of course," he conceded.

Lensless immediately waltzs over, practically vibrating with excitement. His movements were so quick he nearly collided with the counter, stopping himself with a theatrical windmilling of arms that seemed designed to make Y/N smile, "Y/N! You have to try these!" he exclaimed, offering something that resembled a cross between a strawberry and a starfruit. His eyes were wide with delight, face animated in a way that was impossible to resist. "They taste like cinnamon and sunshine!"

His enthusiasm was so genuine, his joy so uncomplicated, that Y/N couldn't help but smile. She accepted the strange fruit, taking a tentative bite. Flavor burst across her tongue—sweet and spicy and utterly unlike anything from Earth, yet somehow reminiscent of childhood summers and holiday desserts.

"It's amazing," she agreed, delighted by the way his face lit up at her approval.

"I know, right?" he grinned, bouncing on his toes. "I've already had like seventeen of them. No-Mask says I'm going to make myself sick, but I feel great!"

"Nevertheless," No-Mask interjected, approaching with his artfully arranged fruit platter, "perhaps moderation might be advisable until we understand the full effects of the local food on our physiology." Despite his words, his eyes were kind, his tone gentle in a way that suggested he was growing accustomed to Lensless's exuberance.

"Boring," Lensless declared, though he tempered his bouncing slightly in deference to No-Mask's concern. He reached up to ruffle No-Mask's perfectly combed hair, darting away with a laugh before the other variant could react, "You worry too much, professor! We're practically gods here—what's a little alien fruit gonna do?"

No-Mask smoothed his hair with dignity, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward despite his attempt at severity. "The term 'practically' is doing considerable heavy lifting in that sentence," he observed dryly, though his eyes crinkled at the corners with unexpected humor.

"Oh guys! I found a lake about two miles east of here. Crystal clear water, pink sand beaches, these awesome floating lily-pad things big enough to sit on. We should all go swimming later!"

"Let's get through breakfast first," Phantom suggested, the dry humor in his tone evident despite his mask's filter. He had positioned himself slightly apart from the group, still uncomfortable with communal activities despite the growing ease between them all.

"A swimming expedition sounds delightful," Viltrumite Mark commented. 

He offered Y/N a slice of the star-shaped fruit he'd been peeling, the gesture courtly despite the informal setting. "The most exquisite of the local fruits, in my assessment," he explained, holding it out with elegant fingers stained slightly purple from the juices. "Its flavor profile changes depending on the ripeness—this one should be at perfect maturity." 

They settled around a large table on the terrace, the spread before them a strange mixture of familiar concepts executed with alien ingredients. Mohawk's "pancakes" were more blue than golden, the fruit No-Mask had arranged shifted colors depending on how the light hit them, and the beverages Sinister poured had a subtle luminescence that would have been concerning on Earth but somehow seemed natural here.

As Y/N reached for a serving utensil, Viltrumite Mark smoothly intercepted it, "Allow me," he murmured, serving her. His fingers brushed hers as he handed her the filled plate, the contact brief yet deliberate. His eyes—ancient yet somehow youthful in the morning light—held hers for a heartbeat longer than necessary. "I hope everything is to your satisfaction."

The moment was interrupted by Mohawk's gag. "Jesus Christ, your highness, it's breakfast, not a royal coronation," he muttered, though the annoyance in his voice couldn't quite mask the underlying insecurity—the fear that his rugged intensity might pale in comparison to Viltrumite's cultured elegance.

Viltrumite's lips curved into a smile. "Civility costs nothing, Mohawk," he replied smoothly. "Perhaps you might try it sometime."

Before Mohawk could retort, Sinister's low chuckle diffused the building tension. "Children, children," he admonished with mock severity. "Let's not fight at the table. It upsets Mother." he smiled as he glanced between them holding no genuine humor.

Omni Mark joined them moments later, slipping into an empty chair beside Y/N with quiet grace. He'd changed from his suit into simple clothing—a fitted gray shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders and dark pants that seemed designed for both comfort and mobility. His hair was slightly damp, curling at the temples in a way that softened his usually severe appearance, suggesting he'd found bathing facilities somewhere in the fortress.

Y/N couldn't help but notice the difference in how he looked without his mask from when she saw him days before without it, must've been the usual attire—more human somehow, the perpetual furrow between his brows less pronounced in the gentle morning light. Their eyes met as he settled beside her, and something warm and private passed between them—a connection forged in those quiet moments when he'd carried her to bed, when he'd sat beside her until she fell asleep, and how he's guided her through everything.

"Angstrom is secure and stable," he reported, reaching for what appeared to be a coffee equivalent. His fingers wrapped around the mug, "He'll need more permanent arrangements eventually, but for now, he's contained."

"We could always just throw him off the highest tower," Sinister suggested with casual menace, spearing a piece of color-shifting fruit with unnecessary precision.

"No more death," Y/N reminded him gently. She reached across the table impulsively, her fingers brushing the back of his hand—feeling the subtle tension there, "We agreed Sinister."

Sinister's eyes widened fractionally at her touch, something vulnerable flickering across his face before the familiar predatory smile slid back into place. He turned his hand beneath hers, capturing her fingers with delicate precision. Sinister's eyes met hers across the table, something dangerous and hungry in their depths. 

"So we did, dove," he conceded, lifting her hand to his lips without breaking eye contact. The press of his mouth against her skin was reverent despite the danger that clung to him like a second skin before he released her hand and brought the fruit to his lips with deliberate sensuality. "For now."

Beside her, Omni Mark went very still, the only indication of his reaction the subtle tightening of his fingers around his mug. The tension in the air was palpable for a heartbeat before Viltrumite Mark intervened.

"We could build a proper containment facility," Viltrumite Mark suggested, cutting through the tension with practiced diplomatic ease. "I've overseen such constructions before. With our combined strength and the resources this world seems to offer, it would be simple enough."

No-Mask leaned forward, scholarly interest sparking in his eyes. "If I might suggest, the southeastern tower seems to contain materials that might serve our purposes. I noticed what appears to be a form of ultra-dense mineral similar to the containment cells the Coalition used on Earth-219."

"I'll help design it," Phantom offered unexpectedly, his voice carrying clearly across the table. "Security systems were my specialty... before."

The meal progressed with surprising ease—conversation flowing naturally between them as they discussed their new world, the fortress, their plans for exploration. There were moments of tension, of course—old rivalries and resentments didn't disappear overnight—but these were tempered by a growing sense of shared purpose, of collective possibility.

Y/N found herself laughing at Lensless's animated retelling of his morning exploration, something warm blooming in her chest as she watched them all—these broken, dangerous men gradually rediscovering parts of themselves long buried beneath violence and trauma. The sunlight catching in Mohawk's wild hair as he gestured emphatically; the subtle softening around Phantom's masked face as he listened; the scholarly interest lighting No-Mask's eyes as he theorized about the local fauna; the quiet contentment in Omni Mark's profile as he watched her laugh; the calculated stillness of Sinister that couldn't quite hide how his eyes softened when they rested on her; the imperial bearing of Viltrumite Mark gentled by something approaching peace.

"You've got a little..." Omni Mark gestured toward Y/N's cheek, where a drop of the luminescent juice had splashed as he reached out, thumb gently wiping away the droplet. The pad of his thumb was surprisingly soft against her skin, tracing an arc that lingered along her cheekbone with exquisite care. The brief touch lingered longer than necessary, his eyes holding hers with unexpected warmth.

"Thank you," Y/N murmured, suddenly aware of the depth of emotion in his gaze—something beyond desire, beyond possession, a tenderness that made her breath catch. For a moment, the bustling breakfast and surrounding variants seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the connection between them—fragile and new yet somehow profound.

Mohawk cleared his throat pointedly from across the table, dragging a hand through his disheveled mohawk with barely concealed irritation, the black spikes standing even more erratically after his fingers disturbed them. "What is this, a romance novel?" he huffed, though his scowl held more amusement than genuine annoyance. "If you're done getting handsy with Y/N's face, Omni, pass the not-exactly-maple syrup."

Omni Mark's expression shifted seamlessly back to its usual composed neutrality, though something warm still lingered in his soft blue eyes as he passed the requested syrup. "Of course," he replied evenly, though Y/N didn't miss the subtle way his knee pressed against hers beneath the table.

Fragments of conversation drifted around her and through it all, she noticed the subtle ways they positioned themselves around her—Omni's protective presence at her side, Mohawk's intense gaze returning to her face between animated gestures, Sinister's calculated angles that always kept her in his sightline, Viltrumite's courtly attentiveness to her needs before she could express them.

"More juice?" Viltrumite offered, already reaching for the pitcher with practiced grace. When she nodded, his eyes warmed when she thanked him. "It is my pleasure," he murmured, voice pitched low enough that only she could hear. "Your happiness here is of paramount importance to all of us, Y/N."

After breakfast, they scattered to explore their new home—Lensless dragging No-Mask off to investigate the lake he'd discovered, Phantom returning to the training room to continue his morning exercises, Sinister disappearing on some mysterious errand of his own, Viltrumite Mark announcing his intention to map the surrounding territory from one of the higher towers.

"Would you care to join me for the aerial survey?" Viltrumite asked Y/N, his invitation formal yet hopeful. "The view from above is quite spectacular, and I would value your perspective on possible expansion areas." His eyes, held genuine interest rather than mere courtesy.

Before Y/N could respond, Mohawk stepped closer, his proximity a clear statement of intent. "She's helping me with dishes," he declared, the challenge in his voice unmistakable despite his casual tone. "Aren't you, Y/N?"

Viltrumite Mark's eyes flickered between them, "Another time, perhaps," he conceded with perfect grace, though something like disappointment briefly shadowed his features. He bowed slightly—a gesture that should have seemed ridiculous in kitchen attire but somehow retained its dignity. "Until later, Y/N."

Y/n sighed, a frown on her face as he turned back, finding Mohawk already at the sink. "You don't have to do that," Y/N told him, trying not to laugh as he managed to get more water on himself than the dishes. A particularly enthusiastic splash had dampened his mohawk, causing water to trickle down his temple in a way that made him look unexpectedly young and carefree.

"I want to," he insisted, vigorously scrubbing a plate with enough force to potentially crack it. His brow furrowed with concentration as if facing a deadly enemy rather than breakfast dishes. "Never had much of a chance for normal shit like this, you know? Before everything went to hell."

The unexpected vulnerability in his admission caught her off guard. Beyond his gruff exterior and violent tendencies, there was something achingly young about him in this moment—a glimpse of the boy he might have been before loss and rage transformed him.

She moved beside him at the sink, their arms brushing as she took over the rinsing. "Well, you have all the time in the world to practice now."

His hands stilled in the soapy water, his gaze fixing on her profile with unexpected intensity. Something shifted in his expression—the perpetual storm in his brown eyes calming momentarily, revealing depths of feeling he usually kept buried beneath anger and bravado. "Yeah," he agreed softly. "Guess I do."

When he leaned in, Y/N expected another of his impulsive, passionate kisses—the kind that had characterized their interactions during the war. Instead, there was a question in his eyes—a hesitation that seemed foreign to his typically impulsive nature. His gaze dropped briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes, silently seeking permission in a way he'd never bothered with before.

Watching her nod softly his lips met hers with surprising gentleness. The kiss was delicate, a stark contrast to the desperate, claiming kisses he'd given her during the war when every moment might have been their last. This kiss held something new: patience, tenderness, the luxury of time. His hands remained in the sink, not reaching for her, giving her the space to pull away if she chose.

But she didn't choose to pull away. Instead, she leaned into the kiss, tasting the sweet-spicy flavor of alien fruit on his lips, feeling the slight scratch of stubble against her skin. She lifted one hand to his cheek, fingers tracing the sharp angle of his jawline, feeling the subtle tremble that ran through him at her touch. For all his bravado and violence, he responded to gentle affection like a starving man offered water—with disbelief and desperate gratitude.

When they parted, his eyes remained closed for a moment, as if savoring the sensation.

"That was nice," he murmured, with vulnerability in his voice she'd never heard before. His forehead rested against hers, breath mingling with her own in the small space between them. This close, she could see flecks of lighter brown in his irises, the softness of his lips still slightly parted. "Different."

"Different good?" she asked, reaching up to trace the strong line of his jaw with soapy fingers, leaving a trail of iridescent bubbles against his skin.

His eyes opened, meeting hers with startling clarity. The raw emotion there took her breath away—hope and fear and longing all tangled together, unfiltered and exposed in a way he'd never allowed before. 

"Different perfect," he corrected, turning his head slightly to press a kiss against her palm. "Like I don't have to rush. Like we might actually have a tomorrow." 

"We do have tomorrow," she whispered, brushing another gentle kiss against the corner of his mouth. "And all the days after that."

Something suspiciously like moisture gathered in his eyes before he blinked it away, replacing vulnerability with a crooked smile that couldn't quite hide the depth of his feeling. "Fuck, Y/N," he murmured, voice rougher than usual. "You're gonna make me go soft here."

She laughed softly, pressing her forehead against his again. "I won't tell anyone."

"Damn right you won't," he growled playfully, the familiar bravado settling back over him like armor—though thinner now, more transparent than before.

A throat cleared behind them, breaking the moment. They turned to find Omni Mark standing in the kitchen doorway, his expression carefully neutral despite the subtle tension in his jaw and the way his fingers flexed once before settling at his sides.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said, gaze sliding away from their proximity with deliberate courtesy. Y/N didn't miss the flash of emotion in his eyes—not anger but something more complex, a mixture of resignation and longing carefully contained behind his usual composure. "I thought you might like to see the library we discovered on the east wing. There are texts there—some in languages I've never encountered before, but others perfectly readable. They might tell us more about this place, its history."

Y/N stepped back from Mohawk, feeling a slight flush rise to her cheeks though she wasn't sure why. There were no established boundaries here, no expectations except those they created themselves. "That sounds fascinating," she agreed, drying her hands on a nearby cloth.

Mohawk seemed about to protest, then visibly checked himself. His fists clenched briefly at his sides before relaxing, jaw working as he swallowed whatever instinctive challenge had risen to his lips. The self-restraint was so unlike his usual impulsive nature that Y/N found herself studying him with newfound appreciation.

"Go ahead," he said, gesturing magnanimously with soap-covered hands. "I'll finish up here." His gaze shifted to Omni Mark, something unspoken passing between them—not quite challenge, not quite acceptance, but perhaps the beginning of understanding. 

"Just because I'm trying this whole 'sharing' concept doesn't mean I like it, Omni," he added, the familiar aggression in his tone undermined by the grudging respect in his eyes. "Just don't keep her all day. Some of us want to show her the cool shit we've found too."

Omni Mark's posture relaxed fractionally, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Understandable," he replied, the simple acknowledgment carrying weight between them—recognition of feelings too complex for either to fully articulate.

As they left the kitchen, Y/N glanced back to see Mohawk return to the dishes with determined focus, his profile outlined against the morning light streaming through the windows. There was something achingly vulnerable in the set of his shoulders, the careful way he handled the dishes now—as if practicing gentleness was a skill he desperately wanted to master.

As Y/N followed Omni through the fortress corridors, she was struck by the surreal normality of what had just transpired—domestic chores, a sweet kiss, gentle teasing between potential rivals. After the chaos and violence that had defined their relationship until now, these simple human interactions felt almost miraculous in their ordinariness.

"Are you alright?" Omni asked quietly as they walked, his stride measured to match hers perfectly. His perceptive gaze studied her face with gentle concern. "This is... a lot to adjust to. For all of us, but especially for you."

Y/N considered the question thoughtfully. "I think I am," she admitted. "It's strange, but not in a bad way. Just... unexpected. Seeing all of you like this, without the constant threat of violence—it's like meeting you all for the first time."

Something soft crossed his features, a vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to show. "In some ways, perhaps you are," he murmured. "We're discovering pieces of ourselves long buried—who we might have been without the tragedies that shaped us." His hand brushed hers as they walked, fingers tangling briefly before releasing—a fleeting connection that somehow conveyed more than words could express.

The library, when they reached it, took her breath away. Vast and circular, its walls lined with shelves that stretched from floor to domed ceiling, accessible by a system of graceful spiral staircases and floating platforms that somehow remained stable without visible support. Sunlight streamed through stained glass windows high above, casting rainbow patterns across the polished floor and illuminating countless volumes bound in materials both familiar and alien.

"It's incredible," Y/N breathed, turning slowly to take in the full grandeur of the space. "How many books do you think are here?"

"Thousands," Omni Mark replied, moving to a reading table where several volumes already lay open. His fingers traced reverently over the ancient bindings, scholarly fascination lighting his features in a way that made him look younger, unburdened. "Perhaps tens of thousands. And not just books—there are scrolls, tablets, data crystals that seem designed to interface with machinery we haven't fully explored yet."

Y/N approached the table, drawn by the obvious excitement in his usually composed voice. The open books displayed text and illustrations of breathtaking complexity—star charts of unfamiliar constellations, anatomical diagrams of creatures she'd never seen, mathematical equations that seemed to extend beyond the three dimensions she was familiar with.

"Can you read any of it?" she asked, tracing her finger along a line of elegant script that seemed to shimmer beneath her touch.

"Some," he admitted, moving to stand beside her. Unlike their breakfast proximity, which had been dictated by seating arrangements, this closeness was deliberate—chosen rather than circumstantial. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, smell the clean scent that was uniquely his beneath the alien soap they'd all discovered. "Enough to understand that this fortress wasn't built by random chance. It was designed as a nexus point—a place where different realities could touch without collapsing into each other."

Y/N looked up at him sharply. "You mean like Angstrom's portals?"

"Similar principle, different execution," he explained, turning a page to reveal diagrams that reminded her of quantum field equations. His fingers moved over the complex illustrations with impressive dexterity, tracing patterns within patterns as he spoke. "His method tears reality. This place... it's more like a gentle fold, a place where the membrane between worlds is naturally thinner."

"So us being here—"

"Isn't coincidence," he confirmed, his expression softening with something like wonder, a rare unguarded moment that revealed the man beneath the leader—curious, brilliant, capable of genuine awe despite all he'd seen across realities. "Whether by design or cosmic chance, we were drawn to a place that could accommodate us—multiple versions of the same quantum signature existing simultaneously without causing universal collapse."

The implications were staggering. Y/N sank into a nearby chair, trying to process what this meant for them. "So we're not just lucky survivors," she murmured. "We're... meant to be here?"

Omni Mark's expression grew thoughtful as he settled into the chair beside hers. "I don't know if I'd go that far," he said carefully. "I've never been much for predetermined destiny. But there's a certain... elegance to how events unfolded. A pattern that suggests more than random chance."

He reached across the table, not for her hand but for a book bound in something that resembled leather but shifted colors like oil on water. "Look at this," he said, opening it to a marked page.

The illustration spread across both pages showed a circular structure remarkably similar to their fortress, surrounded by figures that, while stylized, clearly represented humanoid beings with extraordinary abilities. Above the scene, twin moons hung in a sky painted with pigments that still shimmered with lifelike luminescence despite their obvious age.

"It's us," Y/N whispered, fingers hovering over the image without quite touching the fragile page. "Or... people like us. Here, in this place."

"A prophecy? A historical record?" Omni Mark shrugged, the gesture surprisingly human coming from his usually controlled demeanor. The movement caused a lock of dark hair to fall across his forehead, softening his appearance further. Without thinking, Y/N reached up to brush it back, her fingers lingering against his temple. His breath caught audibly at the casual intimacy of the gesture, eyes widening slightly before his expression melted into something soft and vulnerable. "I can't translate enough to be certain. But it suggests we're not the first to find sanctuary here."

Y/N studied the illustration more closely, noting details she'd missed at first glance—the varied appearances of the figures, the peaceful integration with the environment around them, the sense of community evident in their positioning. "They look... happy," she observed. "At peace."

"Yes," Omni agreed softly, his gaze shifting from the book to her face. His hand moved to cover hers where it still rested near his temple, gently drawing it down to rest between them on the table, his thumb tracing small circles against her palm. He'd removed his dark lenses, revealing soft blue eyes that contained a depth of thoughtfulness uniquely his own. Without the barrier between them, his gaze was startlingly direct—intelligent, perceptive, and unexpectedly vulnerable.

"Do you think that's possible?" she asked quietly. "For us? After everything we've—everything you've all done?"

His hand moved across the table, not grabbing hers but settling palm-up between them—an invitation rather than a demand. His eyes never left hers, honest in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. "I think," he said carefully, each word chosen with deliberate precision, "that peace isn't something you find. It's something you build, choice by choice, day by day."

Y/N placed her hand in his, feeling the strength in his fingers as they closed gently around hers. The contrast was striking—hands capable of devastating destruction holding hers with such exquisite care, as if she were made of the most delicate glass; offering connection without overwhelming, support without possession.

"Then we'll build it," she decided, unexpected certainty blooming in her chest. "Together. All of us."

The smile that touched his lips transformed his usually serious face, lines of worry smoothing away to reveal glimpses of the man he might have been in another life—one untouched by the weight of impossible choices and devastating losses. The smile reached his eyes, crinkling the corners and lighting them from within.

"Together," he agreed, thumb tracing a gentle pattern across her knuckles. "One day at a time."

They remained like that for a long moment—connected by touch, by understanding, by the shared wonder of this strange new beginning they'd been granted. Then, with gentle reluctance, Omni released her hand and rose to his feet.

"Mohawk will be looking for you soon," he observed, a hint of dry humor in his tone. "And if I'm not mistaken, Lensless should be returning from the lake about now, bursting to show you his discoveries."

Y/N stood as well, touched by his consideration for the others' feelings despite whatever he might want for himself. "Will you come with me?" she asked impulsively. "To the lake? It might be nice to spend time together—all of us—without crisis driving every interaction."

Something soft and surprised flickered across his features before he nodded. "I'd like that," he admitted. "Though I should warn you—I haven't gone swimming purely for pleasure since... well, for longer than I care to remember."

"Then it's definitely time," she declared, taking his hand once more to tug him gently toward the door. "Consider it your first official lesson in rebuilding peace."

As they made their way through the sunlit corridors of their new home, Y/N felt something unfamiliar settling within her chest. For the first time since finding herself caught in the variants' chaotic orbit, Y/N felt truly hopeful about the future. Not because any single person had promised to protect her or cherish her, but because they were all choosing to build something new together—something that honored what they had lost without being defined by it.

They were broken, all of them. Damaged by loss, by violence, by choices they couldn't unmake. 

But here, in this strange new world that seemed designed precisely for them, perhaps they could finally heal—not by forgetting the past, but by building a future worthy of remembering. 

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Hope you guys liked it <3

One more fluff chap, then I'm writing the smut y'all been asking for🙏

Who do you guys want first for smut?

Omni mark

or

Mohawk Mark

PT 2!!

PT.3 (smut with Mohawk)

Main series (✩ ‧ ₊ ˚)

[cuthechicane]

Full paywalled version of Lando's interview with The Race

Lando Norris recently sat down with The Race's Scott Mitchell-Malm for an exclusive in-depth interview about his 2024 Formula 1 title bid, taking on Max Verstappen and how fans perceive him.

You can read Scott's take on how Lando presented himself on The Race website today, but here's their conversation in full:

The Race: How do you look back on the year so far? Purely from a numbers point of view, you'd surely have taken that at the start of the year. But in terms of how it's played out, is there any kind of sense that there was a bit more on the table, missed opportunities?

Lando Norris: Err…for sure. I think that's quite obvious. Not as many as people think. And I think people in general think it's been a lot worse than what it's been. I think a lot of people think we've been a lot quicker than we have been. So I'm sure a lot of people will disagree with it. But I think those times, it’s a compliment that people think that, because it shows how far we've come. And I'm proud that in those days, whether Singapore or Zandvoort, I've still been the one that's there and making the most of those opportunities when we have a car that's quick enough. 

But there's clearly ones that we've definitely let things go away, which is Silverstone, Canada-ish – I wouldn't say completely. Maybe one or two others. But I think the other ones are the ones that people want to believe were bad for different reasons. Whether it was my starts, and those days when the starts have been ‘bad’ that everyone says, I've generally still been in the top three, four, five of starts. Even on those days. If you look at Barcelona, when I had a 'bad' start everyone says, the best starter in that race was Max. And I think I was like the third or fourth third best starter on the grid. It's just I happened to be next to the guy who got the best start.

The Race: Who wasn't the guy who ended up leading into Turn 1 anyway...

LN: He was the guy who had the seventh or eighth best start! The other one I’d say was a bit more unlucky was Budapest, where my initial start was very good, a tiny, tiny bit too much wheelspin and a downgraded upshift, and that kind of cost me that. So I think it's been better than people have thought. There's definitely been some missed opportunities, that's a fact. But I'm very happy with my whole season. I still feel like I've got a lot out of it. Things have not just gone to plan. Even if you go back to Austria and things like that, a race that I could have been first or second, whichever way around you want to look at it, I ended up with zero points. There's been certain races which have gone away from us. 

The fact that we're still there fighting, I'm pretty happy with the whole season that I had, because it's clear when things do go right, how amazing that they can be.  It's been still a big learning year, even though it's my sixth year and all of this nonsense, I still have to learn how to drive the car in a better way, because I still don't understand it at times. How we have to drive our car has changed a good amount, and I still have to adapt to that. Some days it doesn't suit me, some days it does. So I think it's still been a very good year, and from the outside, I understand why people think it hasn't been. And I completely almost agree with it! But once you know reasons why, of different things, I'm still pretty proud of the season it's been so far.

The Race: There's a difference between how you imagine it being when you get a car that's quick enough to fight every weekend, and then obviously what it's really like. You've learned some things the hard way, so what's that actually been like?

LN: It's been good for me. Whether I'm racing the likes of Lewis a bit more, or Max is probably the best example of all of them...Charles, Carlos, George, to be honest, all the drivers who are up the front because they deserve to be. Thing is suddenly, when I'm racing them, I'm fighting them for a win. So not coming out and doing a perfect job against these drivers, mainly Max in this case, means I win a race or I don't win a race, and therefore it hurts a bit more and it feels like there's a bigger effect to it all. 

There's more criticism or praise, whichever way around. You win, suddenly you have a lot more praise. You do one mistake, you suddenly have a lot more criticism. But I think both are good things, because people either want you to do well or they want to stand out because they want to be someone that criticises you even more. Both are compliments in ways, and I've enjoyed both of them. 

But I've paid the price, more so in terms of a championship point of view, when I’ve not done things to the correct level. And I think there's so many things that have been great, and have been completely up to the standard that it needs to be. A couple of things have not been. And I paid the price for those situations, because I'm going up against, whether it's Red Bull or Mercedes or Ferrari, on top of being strong teams, great drivers. You get punished more at the top when things don't go right than you do when you're more midfield.

The Race: There's a quote from a few years ago about Lewis Hamilton only having to beat his team-mate, in the context of a dominant team. That's exactly not the situation that you've had this year. But in terms of execution, finding out how hard it is to make sure that every single qualifying session, every start, every judgment in the race with the team – what's that been like? Because I can imagine that idea that 'once I get a car that's quick enough, I'll do it'. 

LN: First of all, I would never think that! For anyone who knows me, that's definitely not how I think. But I would say it's as tough as I've imagined because so many things can still easily go against you, even when you have the best car. Make one mistake in a Q3 lap, you're not on pole when you should have been. You don't have a perfect start when the guy who starts P2 does a perfect start, you’re P2 when you shouldn't have been. 

There's been a couple when we were so dominant – like Zandvoort – it doesn't matter if you made the mistakes at the beginning. You can come back through and you can still dominate and easily win a race. But for the majority, when people think we've had the most dominant car ever, those positions [lost] have just been costly positions. I’ve been on pole by three thousandths or five thousandths or two hundredths, and those positions are positions that just stay for the rest of the race. 

But I've always known that – it’s always just the harsh reality of when you're there, and actually you're living that situation, it’s tough to then always be positive for the next race and things like that, and know when things are going to get better. It's been a learning point, still for me, but even for the whole team, whether it's mechanics, because they feel a bit more pressure when we're leading a race compared to when we compared to when we were 10th, or the engineers because the last pole was split by three thousandths, or one hundredth of a second. Everyone wants to play a part in that, but also feels the pressure of it, including me. I think everyone's dealt with it very well.

The Race: We've seen with various drivers, whenever there's a clash with a popular driver, someone ends up getting pelted on social media. But I don't think I've seen a driver with such a negative narrative against them as I’ve seen with you this year...

LN: Yeah, I don’t know why.

The Race: You’ve noticed it as well. How do you feel about that?

LN: I find it…I find it's a little bit weird, because I read all those things. I wouldn't say I'm affected by them, but I do think of them. Do I think it affects me negatively? No. Because I've actually been used to doing that for a while. I've learned how to read things and choose what I want to affect me and almost help me be better or choose what I just want to let slip away, and I just read it for the fact of reading. 

Certain things I’d say I don't understand how people have gotten that perception. And that's when I always just have to come back to the people who know me, know that this isn't the case. And I'm very happy just knowing that as a fact. There’s certain things when I'm like, people think my ego is too big or something, it couldn't be further from the truth - especially when I'm driving. Maybe sometimes I choose wrong words or something, and people somehow use that against me.

But I think there's more and more people in the world just either don't want to listen to the truth and sometimes I think when I say the truth or facts, people just don't want to agree with them, or they want to disagree and kind of prove me wrong. But I find it odd as I feel like I haven't changed. Maybe I have, in certain things. Definitely some things have changed. I definitely don't go around and joke and laugh as much as I used to, and I think people loved that and maybe don't like it as much now I don't do such a thing. But I’ve definitely noticed it, for whatever reason. 

The Race: It's stuff as a driver, not just you as a person. You mentioned the idea you’ve got a dominant car stuff but it’s also your championship credentials and stuff like that. Maybe some people just want to just stick the knife sometimes, in a way that I personally don’t understand.

LN: Neither do I, but it's why like I always say, it doesn't affect me. I see it still as if I know I said something or I've done something wrong, I accept it. I've always been honest with when I've done a good job and done a bad job. So when I know I've done something wrong, or someone tells me I've done something wrong, I'll always accept it and acknowledge that in the right way. But when I know for a fact I haven't, and people kind of make things of it or turn it into something where I have, there’s some kind of stuff I don't understand. Especially the amount of negative stuff I get nowadays, I almost want to say for no reason. 

It puzzles me a little bit. Doesn't affect me in a good way or a bad way. People can have their own opinions. And I'm all up for people having their own opinions and supporting different drivers and not supporting me – I'm very happy about that. But turning things that are not true into what they think are facts is probably stuff that I don't understand as much. And it's confused me a little bit, but I don't think it affects me in a bad way. I do think of it because I'm an overthinker, and I think of all of those things, so I'll question myself about all of it. But I wouldn't say it affects how I go out and drive the next day all of a sudden, or anything like that, which is the main thing. 

I think it's turned into being a bit of a part of… I don’t have to read any of it, you know? So I can also not have social media, but I enjoy it still. It'll still affect me on days, but it's not like it affects how I go racing or anything else, so I don't mind. I just don't like when people have the wrong opinion about me. Because I don't mind people having different opinions, but stating incorrect things is probably the thing that I don't understand, and probably the thing that gets to me the most. But it doesn't affect my day to day life at all. And I'm very happy with the people I have around me, my group.

They're the people who are being more honest with me about when I'm doing well or when I'm not, or whether I'm being a dick, and when I'm not. I prefer people to tell me that, than not to tell me that. The reason I really don't care about what people say so much is because I know the people who actually most know me best and are most truthful about everything are just the people I have around me, and I’ll listen to them more than I'll ever listen to people on the outside.

The Race: One final thing as we sort of got side-tracked there: 18 months or so ago I interviewed you in Australia which basically turned into an opportunity to justify your new contract, because the team was in a bad place and there was a lot of noise. You always stuck to your guns. How vindicated do you feel by this season, and how excited are you for next year, because both titles have got to be the aim?

LN: That's very clear. We all as a team know that next year is the year, probably the first one since I've been in Formula 1, where I can go next year ‘We are challenging for the title’.  And we can say that now already. We've never been able to do it in the past. I'm very happy that I've stuck with the team that I believed in even when a lot of people didn't. I'm very happy that I just had that belief in the team. But also just for all of that to actually come true even when it was hard to believe at times. When we could take kind of two steps forward and then step back, and then catch up and then drop back. 

There were times when I did question it for sure, on what's the best for my future and what do I want to do and those kinds of things. But for me to always return to the belief that the team around me, whether it was Andreas [Seidl] a few years ago when we took a step forward, for sure �� but then Andrea [Stella], for me, has been the key to everything. And the fact we've been able to go from where we were to beating Red Bull, when not even 12 months ago they had the most dominant season...the fact that we're now beating them, we've been beating them almost since Miami-ish, and we've been on par with them since Miami, that’s an incredible achievement. 

I'm very happy that I've been part of it all. I'm happy that I stuck through the harder times when I easily could have picked an easier route out of it, could have gone to different teams and done all this other stuff. I feel like I've rewarded myself nicely for having the belief in the team, and I think the team understands that too - the journey that we've been on together - and I think they appreciate that, which probably makes me the happiest out of all of it.

[sightseertrespasser]

Hey!

I think your Odds Of Survival is super super cool and awesome (I’m going batshit insane over it)

I’m really interested in the cybertronian political setup/worldbuilding you’ve been sprinkling in, it being revealed that Prowl and a lot of canon autobots are cons in this universe, mentions of the functionists, hints for whenabouts the quintessons arrived on cybertronian, etc.

I think the world you’ve built is so so cool. Ik you’re probably dripfeeding us crumbs intentionally and may not want to spoil things. But if there is anything you can or want to say, take this as an invitation to lore dump about whatever you want :3

If not then hope you’re having a good day and thanks for sharing your awesome creation :D

Hi!

Thank you so much for the compliment and the ask!

I do enjoy sprinkling in my world building in the stories themselves but I actually quite enjoy getting direct questions like these so I can info dump all the exposition I want. The drip feed is for satisfying narrative pacing, the ask box is for turning on the hose.

The basic premise I built off of was answering this question: If there’s no Optimus Prime, then what would happen to Cybertron?

The short version of what usually happens in most continuities is more or less as follows:

- The Functionalists and/or Sentinel Prime run Cybertron through a horribly oppressive government.

- A bunch of bots get sick of it and ignite a civil war.

- The rebellion “wins” but usually splits between the Decepticons and the Autobots, due to a division of fundamental beliefs. Decepticons are “might makes right” and Autobots are “how about not fascism?”

So what does it mean if Optimus isn’t there? What’s so special about the guy?

I have complicated thoughts on how Optimus, Megatron and their respective ideals interact and I could probably write a small essay about how they both offer Change to their followers in another tangent for another time.

The short answer is Optimus gives people the uncompromising option to Do Good. And backs that stance the fuck up every single time by his own actions. Taking the high road every time is freaking hard, and it takes an extremely stubborn, and most importantly angry kind of hope to not let it go.

Not many folks can do that. Not because they don’t want it, but because they don’t believe it’s possible.

And that’s were a lot of would be auto bots are at.

Everyone hates the Functionalists but they’re also incredibly rich in resources, controlling not just Cybertron but multiple planet spanning colonies. A lot of mechs that would have joined the rebellion in the og timelines haven’t because Megatron kinda puts out Evil Warlord vibes and not everyone is willing to work with that. People like Prowl and Elita still join because they’re the kind to go “Well we have to do something to make Cybertron better and taking the Trolly Off the Tracks isn’t an option.”

So the rebellion doesn’t quite reach the size needed to take out the Council and Sentinel in one fast all out charge. If it wasn’t for the Quintession invasion, the Decepticons would have eventually met a slow demise by attrition.

The Decepticons are low key operating like a pirate army with a very tentative ceasefire truce with the Functionalist Army. Unlike Optimus, Sentinel is a dick that can’t help but start shit with Megatron so there is almost zero collaboration between the two. Right now, the Decepticons are a downright devastating military force but in desperate need of a consistent supply of resources that raiding alone cannot stabilize.

The Lost Light is currently the only crew of the Decepticons that are legitimately trying to establish trade routes with other aliens (which is not going well because 90% of intelligent alien life views Cybertronians as colonist war machines (which is historically correct)) and they don’t exactly have the charming Beacon of Hope and Respect for Tiny Aliens that Optimus usually brings to the table.

Another thing in universe, the Lost Light is essentially considered the Island of Misfit Mechs. The ship is ancient and pretty much everyone on board got there for either “not being good enough” or from getting demoted, as is the case with Prowl.

Elita One was made the Captain because she’s competent enough to make Megatron nervous about her gathering too much influence but still too useful to kill off either. So she gets the rejects from other ships and up to a certain limit gets to do as she pleases.

That’s all I’ll write for now. Thanks again for taking an interest in my writing!

[emma-is-swaggy-and-epic]

Happy valentine's day, i've been getting into sonic.exe lately so here's my rendition of an amy.exe

Watch the SPEEDpaint here!!! [LINK]

LORE UNDER THE CUT!!! (CW: mentions of gore and unreality...kinda, there's a TLDR at the end)

A few years after sonic CD was released, a strange cartridge for the game was created. Seemingly: the game had a mind of it's own; with it having strange anomalies such as aggressively telling players to stop controlling sonic after playing through the first few levels, weird reddish blobs of pixels could be seen in the background that look almost like gore to some people (though what they actually are is unclear due to them being few and far between and seem to be slightly obscured by various background elements) and a notable lack of other characters or enemies. Strangely though, the most well known anomaly related to this version of the game is an unusually distorted version of amy rose; as the years went by and the game became more accessable to the public via online emulators, many have reported her appearence changing more and more as time went on. When the cartridge was first discovered: her design mostly stayed true to her original, classic look though as years went by, she started looking more similar to her modern design (more notably so after rips of the game were posted to the internet). Occasionally, the altered version of amy would appear mid-gameplay and deliver threatening messages to the player about how she hates them, how they're getting in her way, etc. When played using an emulator, the game is known to install viruses onto whatever device the player is using in that moment. When the game was ripped, it was revealed that the name of the file was simply "phantom.exe"

What nobody knows about this version of the game, is that the cartridge was special in the sense that the world inside it was sentient; unlike the other versions of sonic CD: this specific cartridge had contained the actual classic sonic universe as a whole and the game was just a front, almost like another dimension that you cannot enter. All of the anomalies listed were the result of a strange event within the universe; with amy coming across the phantom ruby and it corrupting her, causing her to become a murderous fiend with a jealousy problem. Due to the unstable nature of an entire universe existing within such a tiny object like a game cartridge: amy has become aware of the fact that she is in a video game and is immensely jealous of the player for controlling sonic, although due to them living in another universe, she knows she cannot harm them so she just installs viruses onto their computer instead. After the game was ripped onto the internet and was exposed to a more modern culture than one from the 90's, amy's design and mannerisms slowly became more similar to that of the version of her in modern sonic games.

TLDR: there exists a version of sonic CD where the classic sonic universe just....EXISTS inside it (like the actual one, not just a game) and in that version of the universe: amy found the phantom ruby, it corrupted her and now she's a yandere and the game is now fucked up. Also amy is aware she's in a game and is jealous of the player for controlling sonic so she puts viruses on people's computers

In all honesty, i kinda just had two different ideas for what i wanted this to be. I wanted to make an EXE that is SOLELY self-contained and doesn't involve evil world-destroying gods possessing video games and entrapping souls like most EXEs i've seen (some of my favorite EXE/sonic horror AUs are starved eggman and sink sonic BECAUSE of this subversion) but at the same time: i was VERY married (no pun intended) to the idea of taking inspiration from old loveletter computer viruses and the whole haunted game schtick so i tried to mash them together as best i could, resulting in a sort of doki doki literature club/undertale-esque AU for lack of a better description. While yes, i am aware that yandere!amy rose isn't exactly an ORIGINAL idea (hell, i saw a fairly popular fanfiction called "amy.exe" with that EXACT premise) i mean.....i was (unfortunately) a yandere simulator fan as a kid so i kinda have a soft spot for yanderes, y'know? Besides, what else could you do with amy? You could probably do something with the fact she's into tarot cards but that'd probably get culturally insensitive REAL fast...

If i'm being completely honest, i only threw in the "amy's design and mannerisms changing due to being exposed to the internet" thing because i like amy's modern design more than her classic design and i wanted an excuse to make something based on it lol. Speaking of which: i actually had a tough time getting the preportions right on this, i've drawn sonic characters before and i usually have a tough time with the preportions since the sonic artstyle is so much different than mine and y'know....if the characters aren't drawn in a style that looks even VAGUELY like the sonic artstyle than it's just NOT a sonic character!!! (Also fun fact: amy's design in this is vaguely modeled after a creepy haunted doll bc i LOVE those things)

While doing research for this AU i realized i actually know a lot less about sonic lore than i thought lol, this is my first REAL attempt at writing horror so i hope it's not TOO terrible!!! (And, more importantly, that this makes sense to anyone who ISN'T me) anyway....again, happy valentine's day!!!

[crispy-kitten-princess]

Some fanarts to bring attention to the long post about the books!

Yesterday i had finished the httyd books re-reading (it's been A MONTH), and today i watched the httyd movie for like the 30th time idk (i was really keen of it as a child)

Friendship with movie Hiccup ended, now Tuffnut and Ruffnut are my best friends. They are iconic. I remember book!Tuffnut being kinda sorta a background character, like somebody amongst the Hooligan tribe. And that's the move i liked about the dreamworks version, heh

Longpost and possible spoilers under the cut

Yeah, i loved movie Hiccup and associated myself with him very much... But now, after i reread the books, refreshed my memory about The Ending (and cried my eyes out), i found the movie rather.. strange? It leaves a lotta questions, like the world building, Astrid's behaviour, poor stylistic choise of making her as skinny and wimp as Hiccup, and Stoic s attitude towards his son, like.. stop??? He is an awful warrior ok but plz quit telling everyone around how much you are ashamed of him. Plus i miss Alvin as the main antagonist. He was one of a kind, never saw anyone so persistent to living and killing your distance nephew. And i miss Fishlegs No name as he was so cute and sarcastic. Movie Fishlegs is rather cliched

Weeeeell this whole post exists just bc i love book Hiccup sm AND THE WHOLE STORY AND I LOVE THE FIRST HICCUP AND THE SECOND AND I LOVE FURIOUS AND HIS STORY AND I LOVE FISHLEGS STORY AND DEADLY SHADOW AND I ADMIRE VALHALLARAMA AND CAMICAZI AND CHINHILDA AND TANTRUM and i miss them and i want to share my love for the books with everyone around... But amongst all my friends i don't have somebody who would've read the YA fantasy book about a 10-15 yo viking boy and his tiny arrogant dragon, and i would not either if i had not became a fan at my 12-13s by absolute chance. This is insane. I love my fixations (that's the whole point of fixating) but it hurts that I can't share it, and even if i try to explain to one of my friends who are ready to listen, I can't tell why exactly would i cry for half an hour about the children's book ending where OMG the dragon died, no waaay

I really wish it were a cartoon series based on books specifically, bc that way i could show them to my friends, which is waaaay easier than making them read the books (which is impossible, i tried). But ig.... It would stay a wish forever

I wanted to tell something about the books again. Why i like them so much? But i get too emotional about them and can't muster up ANYTHING. What CAN i say??? They are good. They are perfect. Cressida Cowell made a great job. The slightest gradient between the first and the last book makes the neighbour books in the series feel alike, but the first and the last are nothing like the other. The first is really a cute local story. WHILE THE LAST IS ABOUT CHANGING THE WORLD AND WHOLE NATION. This is incredible

Myself, i like the first 4 or 6 books more. They are so funny! I read them just for fun. But when i do, i just cant stop. And as i proceed further, the world changes, and the Fate follows the main character with a knife of misfortune (i wish i could play with English words as i do in my native language lol) - or good luck! Who knows, when you survived so many terrible moments, are you extra lucky or the exact opposite?

The first books don't even have in them the main thought of the last - dragon slavery. Or do they? Now, when i think of it, i do recognise the abuse and unappropriate attitude towards dragons, like foreshadowing... It's hard to tell if Cressida planned it all from the beginning or expanded the world as the books went further and further. Anyway, the first book os nothing like the last. The last is insane

I hate the book series endings almost every time, but not in that case. No. No. No. This one is solid perfection. It is logical. It is mature. And most importantly, it is painfully realistic. That's what broke me. The realism of the ending, where the magical creatures have to vanish from the human world just to save themselves. It is common for books like that to end with death of all magical (like it dies when we grow up, blablabla and so on) and it is the story of maturing, but that is not all. It matches with our world, where all living things die away and vanish eventually, if they are not significant for human race survival... But in our case they will never ever return from some North fields or sea hollow. Abused animals have neither intelligence to speak for themselves nor some kind guy to save them. Theme of war and death is extremely actual rn too. And i was devastated when the peace was established and shortly after that Furious died 🤪🤪 amazing, thank you. It killed me when he said that he was dead for all these years, and lived again only after Hiccup III spoke to him and returned him to his right mind

This is a mess I'm sorry 😔

I remembered now that it supposed to be a post bout the movie I've just watched. Well. The movie's best part is that it brought my mother's attention to the book series,, i was obsessed with the movie therefore she gifted me the books, and i became so obsessed with them that she even yelled at me for rereading them so frequently, lol

I can't say anything about the movie. I have no thoughts. I guess i just re watched it too many times as a kid to feel anything anymore. It didn't work with the books though. Reading them again 6-7 years later the latest reread, as an adult, i figured out that they aged extremely well. I found inspiration in them. I'm lost in thoughts about them. I want them to be more popular and well-known. And i hate fucking live action movie btw if you even care 😘💅 not to think about all of the resources that could ve been put in use to make cartoonish HTTYD books real

Plz, if you came that far, reblog or comment with something thoughtful, it would be mush appreciated

Upd.: this one is obvious but I loveeeee the trope. When Hiccup went on the impossible journey of Training His Dragon Toothless, he learned how to deal with arrogant, whining, lazy people. He learned how to be a a leader who listens to his followers, a teacher, a mentor to all the crazy arrogant and wild viking nation, and that is why the title of the book focuses on Training your dragon

I'd looove to hear everyone's opinion about the series. Plz share yours!!! I love you fellow httyd fan

[gyaru-tau]

FINALLY FINISHED MY QPHIL 3.0 DESIGN HOORAY (cant wait to. redesign it again in like 3 months.) (CHECK UNDER THE CUT FOR MY SILLY DESIGN NOTES!!)

I think I said this before but i so. SO BADLY wanted him to have a sleep theme since I always loved how his presence on the island was kinda up in the air. Is it a dream? Is it not? When he goes between the island and hardcore is that change really happening? Who knows.

The idea of making his usual outfit more like a housecoat was super appealing to me, so I opted for this open housecoat look with really heavy frills which were super fun to figure out, and I knew from pretty early on that I wanted to give him a quilt pattern SOMEWHERE on his design, so I thought the inside of the coat would do nicely for a sorta "default state". It also meant I could attribute meaning to the symbols and colours I used. wink nudge.

He has a more subtle angel theme, like with the mobile on his walking stick being a halo with the wing placement further emphasizing this, as well as just his generally lighter colour scheme. When I say sleep was his theme I almost more-so imagine it as like. The feeling of waking up in the morning where you're mostly refreshed but still a LITTLE drowsy. Lots of very spring-y, morning colours.

Just some other quick notes, I always really liked the mod in the server where you could have the crows perch on your shoulder and follow cuz of the lantern, so I thought it'd be fun if I made it so brian just straight up WAS the lantern. So I made him look like one of those wall outlet nightlights!! The backpack being kinda cat shaped was COMPLETELY unintentional but a very welcome result. Missa backpack is real.

As for the alternate outfits, I have a bolas one, as well as an ender king one since I deemed those two the most important. For the ender king I weirdly don't have many notes, like it's fairly straightforward (Save for the elephant in the room but now I'm gonna keep my secrets on why that's a thing). The Quilt design is supposed to be a lighter, easier-on-the-eyes version of the no texture pattern, and I imagine that all the goop and gunk on Phil is hidden under the coat. I imagine it'd look fairly similar to canon so just like. imagine it for now. Might draw it one day. MAYBE. There's some tiny additional colour symbolism but I'll hold my tongue on that and let you guys draw your own conclusions there. I WILL say, however, that instead of his theme being sleep, his theme is "nightmare" (and also kinda sleepwalking since both fit).

The Bolas design was SUPER fun to work with. For starters I wanted the three designs to be in three different states. One with the coat, one with the coat reversed, and one without the coat entirely. Since I wanted to do the checker pattern thing with the possession design, having the sleeveless bolas design worked really well for the shape I landed on, even if it wasn't conventional. and SPEAKING of non-conventional design choices, I decided to go against the usual plague doctor + gas mask fusion design. Which might be controversial... But god. The moment I thought of his mask being a falconry hood, the idea just wouldn't leave my mind. Because of this, the full mask is kinda separated into two parts. The eye mask which kinda also mirrors his usual sleep mask, and the gas mask itself (I kept it in a beak shape since it'd feel odd if i made it any other shape for phil, lol). When designing the whole thing I kept thinking about more apocalypse setting clothing. Like mad max. Or the one gag from that one spongebob movie. Lots of leather. And of course, to match the other sleep themes, the Bolas outfit's theme is "fever dream", although its a bit more subtle. It's easily the weirdest design, The pops of green were simultaneously in reference to the friendship emerald... As well as... Well, the green chain right below the chain on the sickness themed design was probably the most tasteful way I could've chosen to get across vomit without it being too on the nose. (also sidenote, I had a few friends compare bolas phil to... a fly. Which wasn't intentional but it's kinda funny that the guy designed after fever dreams looks a little bit like a bug.) Ok thats it for design commentary I'm gonna go to bedge nyow.

[these-written-reveries]

Selfish (kiribaku ver.)

‣ Pairing: KiriBaku x GN!Reader

‣ Genre: Flangst, Hurt/Comfort

‣ Summary: Katsuki is convinced that you and Eijirou are in love with each other, but not him. He tries to do what he thinks is right by keeping his feelings suppressed and hidden from you, instead of trying to get between the happiness of the two people he loves the most. His plan quickly begins to fall apart the moment you confront him, and his selfish urges take over.

‣ Warnings: Angst, Katsuki being sad and having low self-esteem, false unrequited love, making out, Reader uses the “girl’s” elevator (but we can just pretend gender plays no part in the placement of the dorm rooms in this scenario), the word “fuck” is used a lot, repeated use of a "noose" metaphor? idk

‣ Word Count: 6,350

‣ A/N: This is more of a Katsuki-centric fic, with a bonus fluffy kiribaku blurb at the end!

There is a Katsuki x Reader version of this here, if you’re interested!

Main Masterlist

Katsuki Bakugou was a selfish man.

He had begrudgingly accepted this truth a long time ago. Despite how it appeared on the surface, he was quite self-aware. Sure, it didn’t require that much self-reflection to figure it out, considering he’d been told this very truth by others around him multiple times throughout his life—at least by the ones that were brave enough to do so—but that’s beside the point. He still came to be aware of it, one way or another.

He could remember the early days of his youth as a spoiled, entitled brat. Even before his quirk developed, he always poised himself as superior to others. He was as selfish as they came. Throwing fits when he didn’t get his way, hurting people around him to ease the raging storm of feelings that were too big for his tiny body, always stealing the spotlight from others, expecting praise and rewards for every little thing he did. Kids are inherently selfish, to some degree, but little Katsuki blew every kid in his grade out of the water, in this regard.

Things didn’t improve all that much as he grew older, but he did get a little better. At least he no longer threw tantrums over not getting ice cream after school or every time he was told “no.” And he no longer sought praise for merely breathing. He preferred to truly earn his title as “the best” at whatever he decided to do—even if that meant knocking some other kids down to get there faster. A minor improvement, but his selfish nature was still wildly out of control. Even when he did recognize it, he didn’t care enough to fix it. He was already seen as an asshole, what was the point in trying to change the minds of people he saw as below him?

It wasn’t until he broke free of his ass-kissing, follower friends and met you, Eijirou, and the other friends "extras" from UA that he finally began to really see and care about his selfish ways—especially how they affected the people he truly respected and cared about. Katsuki wasn’t devoid of a heart, despite what many people believed. He wasn’t incapable of feeling remorse for his actions and of learning how to be a better person. He just never had the proper tools or guidance to be able to grow into the person that he, deep down, wanted to be.

That, and he didn’t have the same motivation before as he suddenly did when you and Eijirou stepped into his life. You pushed him to be better, just by being yourselves. Katsuki was inspired by you from the moment he met you. The way you carried yourselves and the way you managed to handle him and all that came with being his friend. It only made him respect you more. And as he inevitably began to fall for you, he felt the desire to be a better person for you grow even stronger. He wanted to prove to you that he was worth keeping around, even if he wasn’t always “the best” at everything. The last thing he wanted was to lose you over his problematic ways.

To his luck, you and Eijirou were some of the most tolerant people he had ever met. That didn’t mean you never called him out on his shit, though. Katsuki deeply valued you for that. He had grown to be more open and accepting of critical feedback, specifically if it came from you and Eijirou. How could he become a great hero, never mind a great man, if he refused any and all feedback that wasn’t positive?

That said, it still wasn’t easy for him to so easily accept when he was wrong. And it was even more difficult for him to push past his pride enough to apologize for it. But all it took was one look from you or Eijirou to make him give in and do just that. How you managed to gain such power over him, he’d never understand. If he wasn’t so damn in love with you, he’d hate you for it.

He still hated you for it. But in a “fuck you for making me love you so much” kind of way.

If it wasn't for his internal commitment to be a better person—one that you could be proud to know—he would have given into his selfish urges, stolen your hearts, and marked his claim on them a long time ago.

Katsuki had quickly come to learn that being a good person sucks.

“Oh, Eiji texted. He said he’ll be here soon! I invited him. Figured you wouldn’t mind. He said he needs all the help he can get for this upcoming exam,” you said as you began typing a message back to him.

“Fucking hell.”

“Huh?”

You looked up at Katsuki after hearing him grumble something unintelligible under his breath. His eyes met yours for only a brief moment before he averted his gaze, gesturing to the open books in front of you.

“Nothing. Get back to studying! Do you wanna pass that exam, or what?”

You threw your head back as you groaned. “Can’t we just take a little break? Eiji’s not even here yet and we have so much time left to work on this!”

Katsuki pointed his pen at you. “You might have time, but I don’t. You’re lucky I’m even using my spare time to help you idiots with this!”

You rolled your eyes. “You wanted to study for this test too. And you’re the one always preaching about how it’s important to take breaks!”

Before he could respond, you shut your book and looked at him inquisitively.

“So…what were you thinking about before? You looked…more annoyed than usual. Am I annoying you?”

“What the hell do you mean? I don’t look like anything!”

He could see you trying to stifle a laugh, though behind it was a glint of concern in your eyes.

“You look like something is really bothering you, is all.”

“Yeah. You are! Shut up and get back to work,” he growled, though you felt no real malice behind it. You had quickly learned long ago not to take the hotheaded blonde’s rude attitude seriously, often times finding it to be more of a protective shield than anything else.

“Okay, whatever you say,” you said, holding your hands up defensively with a slightly amused smirk on your face. Katsuki huffed in response as he looked away.

Giggling at his strange, yet all too familiar behavior, you opened your textbook again, only to be distracted less than a minute later by another ding from your phone. Katsuki could already tell it was another text from Eijirou by the way you smiled at your screen when you read it. You only ever smiled like that when reading the redhead’s messages, much to Katsuki’s chagrin.

“Fuck you,” Katsuki thought as he stared at you from across the table, frustration and hurt bubbling within his chest.

The truth was, you had the strange ability to make his heart flutter and his stomach do flips and his hands sweaty and fill his brain with so many thoughts of you, it couldn’t focus on anything else. You did all this just by existing as your stupidly beautiful, perfect self.

You even made him feel this way when you looked your “worst”. Beaten up after a bad fight, sleep deprived with bags under your eyes, after—very ungracefully—shoving a giant serving of food into your mouth, just waking up with messy hair and crusty eyes and morning breath, sick with snot constantly leaking out of your nose. All of this and he was still head over heels, swooning over you like a fool. And dammit, did it piss him off.

Even worse, he knew you had feelings for your redheaded friend and not him. He couldn’t blame you for this. He also found himself feeling similarly towards Eijirou, as he did you. He was a damn lovable idiot. A good guy, all around. The kind of man Katsuki wished he could be more like.

He couldn’t blame Eijirou for loving you either. As far as Katsuki was concerned, how could anyone not fall for either of you?

Katsuki loved your entire personality -even the parts that frustrated him most. Especially those parts. On top of that, you were absolutely gorgeous. When he begrudgingly thought of you and Eijirou together, without him, he couldn’t deny that the two of you would make an amazing couple—looks-wise and personality-wise.

It infuriated him to no end. He wanted to hate you both, push you away, relocate somewhere far away so that he’d no longer have to bear the pain of seeing the two of you flirting together, holding hands, laughing at each other’s jokes, hugging one another, and inevitably doing all the things that couples do. All the things that Katsuki wanted so desperately to do with you both.

But he couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried. There was no way he could bring himself to not only truly hate you, but to go on living life without you both. He would likely never admit it, but you had become so interwoven in his life and his heart, that an existence without you just seemed so bleak and empty.

So, as much as it pained him to sit through hangouts and study sessions and the like, all while bearing witness to how close, how touchy, how obviously in love, you and Eijirou were with one another and not him, he chose to stick around and keep his mouth shut. He made a solemn promise to himself not to utter a word about his feelings to either of you, ever.

For once, he saw exactly what he wanted, right in front of him, and he chose not to take it. He chose not to ruin whatever closeness he did have with the two of you. But more importantly, he chose not to ruin you and Eijirou’s chances at finding the happiness that you both deserved, far more than he did.

It was the most selfless thing he’d ever done. And it was the hardest thing he’d ever done too. He felt his heart break every time he saw the affectionate way you treated one another, but he bit his tongue. He tried to shove his feelings down deeper and deeper, but they kept coming back up, tightening around his throat like a noose until he choked.

The truth became quite apparent to him at one point. Loving you both from afar would be his undoing. And maybe he deserved it? Maybe this was his punishment for being an asshole and tearing others down for his own benefit for all those years.

He’d take his punishment. Just so long as he could continue to know you, even if he wanted to know you so much more.

God, he fucking loved hated you.

After the previous day’s study session, Katsuki needed a break from the two of you. He planned to spend most of the day training and holed up in his dorm, just to avoid you both as much as possible; to set his mind straight and get his feelings back where they belonged—locked away in a dark unlabeled box in his mind, along with all of his other unwanted thoughts and feelings. He was starting to lose his composure around you, and when that happened, he always tried to stay out of your way for a few days until he was “fine” again.

“Fine” had lost all its meaning months ago, and yet, he found himself saying it all too often.

“You okay, Kats? You’re not really on your A game today,” you said as you walked over to help him off the ground for the second time that day.

Katsuki scoffed, a low growl brewing in his throat as he spoke. “I’m fuckin’ fine. Wasn’t planning on having you idiots around, distracting me.”

You and Eijirou seemed to have the same idea about working out and training that day. Katsuki ran into you both on his way to the gym. Almost turned around and booked it back to the dorms, but you happened to see him and waved him over to join you. Both of you smiled happily as you greeted him. It pissed him off so much, but he couldn’t say no to you when you both looked so damn cute, asking him to join you with those sharp teeth and pretty eyes sparkling as you looked up at him.

He wanted to curse you both out. Tell you to fuck off and leave him alone.

Get out of his fucking head, already! Stop torturing him with those fucking adorable smiles that made his heart clench in his chest! Stop being so fucking nice to him!

But he bit his tongue, salvaged whatever little composure and willpower he had left, and joined you both to train.

And he fucking sucked the whole time. It only added to his inner turmoil even more. He was too distracted. Too focused on you and Eijirou and the way you both looked so fucking good when you were focused, when you had sweat dripping down your skin, when you were looking at him with those determined eyes while sparring, when you didn’t hold back against him.

At least the two of you were more focused on him than each other, at the moment. Katsuki had insisted that you both took turns going against him until he kicked both of your asses. He was on round three, at this point. He had lost to you both a total of three times in a row.

He knew that you and Eijirou were starting to question his strange behavior lately. He practically stormed out of his own dorm the day prior during your study session together. He didn’t say a word. Just got up and left.

Why?

Because you and Eijirou. That’s why.

When he came back, things were awkward as the two of you tried to ask him about it. He didn’t look at either of you when he told you to leave, not wanting you to see his red, glossy eyes.

It was embarrassing, to feel this weak.

Eijirou knocked on his door later that evening to talk to him. He didn’t answer.

Now the two of you were obviously trying to pretend that everything was normal, for his sake, trying to gently coax whatever was bothering him out of his system in hopes that he’d come around and get out of whatever shitty headspace he was in. You were being good friends, like usual. Always so attentive and thoughtful and caring.

He wanted to scream.

This time, he managed to defeat Eijirou, but he could tell his moves were slightly slower. He was going fucking easy on him. The redhead giving him a pity win only managed to send Katsuki over the edge.

By the time it was your turn, he wasn’t even fully present in his body anymore. All he was focused on was winning one round. Just one solid win was all he needed.

He moved on autopilot, blocking and countering all your attacks swiftly as they came. Thankfully, you weren’t holding back. For a moment, he felt like he was finally winning at something. The suffocating feelings began to dissipate as the adrenaline high began to kick in, filling him with a sense of power and control.

Until you called for a pause.

“What the fuck! Why?!” he barked, smoke wafting off of his hot hands.

Eijirou held a hand out at him, signaling him to back off as he ran towards you. “Chill the fuck out man, they're hurt!”

“Huh?”

It was only then that he realized you were holding your weight on one leg, struggling to keep yourself balanced as you tried to stand on your own. Eijirou was quick to catch you before you fell.

You had an ugly burn on your leg from one of his explosions. He thought he had released it far enough away from you to dodge it. He was clearly wrong.

Katsuki’s head was fuzzy as he stared at you, frozen in place. Eijirou inspected your wound, offering you sweet words of comfort and praise as he carefully wrapped it with gauze.

Damn it.

Katsuki could barely breathe now. The noose growing tight around his throat again.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to Recovery Girl.” Eijirou lifted you up into his arms with ease, carrying you out of sight.

Your little whimper of pain shot straight through his heart.

Fuck.

“Come on, Katsuki!” Eijirou called out to him, slight urgency in his voice.

Katsuki remained frozen where he stood, hands clenched and chest heaving as he tried to fight back the tears that were building in his eyes. A million thoughts and feelings swirled inside of him, threatening to burst through the seams of his being.

“Kats?” Your voice sounded distant. It echoed in the background of his mind before it fully reached him.

“Go on without me,” was all he could say. He cringed at the way his voice wavered when he said it.

“Come on, man. You should-”

“Go!” Katsuki yelled, interrupting Eijirou’s attempt to change his mind.

All he heard after that was the sound of Eijirou’s footsteps as they faded away.

You and Eijirou had tried to reach out to Katsuki for four days. He somehow managed to avoid the two of you at every turn. He mostly stayed locked up in his dorm when school wasn’t in session. All calls went to voicemail. All texts left on read.

The two of you even went as far as to try to get Sero or Mina to check in on him. Denki offered to give it a shot, but you declined. You both knew he’d probably only aggravate him more, despite his best intentions.

Every plan of yours failed.

At one point, you couldn’t take it anymore and ended up crying to sleep in Eijirou’s arms one night. He shed a few tears himself as he tried to soothe your sadness and worry; all the while, he was struggling just as much.

You both missed your best friend. And despite your reassuring comments to each other that he would come back soon, that he just needed some space, you were both starting to crumble under the fear that maybe he wouldn’t. He had been acting strange lately, even before the most recent event occurred.

What if you had upset him? What if he was tired of being your friend? What if you were holding him back somehow?

Your thoughts spun in circles in your mind until you began to feel dizzy and sick to your stomach. After tossing and turning for hours that night, you headed down to the kitchen to make yourself some tea in hopes that it’d finally help you quiet your mind enough to allow you to get some much-needed sleep.

Thankfully, it did, because by the time Katsuki walked into the room to get some water after he couldn’t sleep, you were passed out with your head on the table, your hair sprawled out messily around you and your half-empty mug of cold tea.

You looked beautiful.

“Fuck you,” Katsuki cursed you in his head as he stared down at your hunched over, sleeping form.

The common room was so quiet this late at night, he could clearly hear your little breaths with every rise and fall of your chest. He spotted drool slightly dripping out of one side of your parted lips.

The sight made his heart flutter.

On your feet, he spotted those cute fluffy bunny slippers that him and Eijirou picked out for you one day at the mall. He remembered that day with fondness, how you all worked together in teams to find a pair of slippers for each other. In the end, Eijriou was happy to receive shark slippers and Katsuki was surprised with Grumpy Cat slippers. He could still hear both of your laughs as you made a comment about how his face matched his slippers perfectly.

Dammit, he missed your laughs so much.

He huffed in a mixture of sadness and frustration as he turned to walk away, only to stop himself in his tracks after a few steps. He took one look back at you over his shoulder before sighing in defeat.

Walking closer, he worked up the courage to wake you and subsequently face you for the first time in four days. What came out was much more aggressive than he intended.

“Oi!”

You jumped and his heart clenched slightly. He bit the inside of his cheek as you looked up at him, sleepy and confused.

“Ka’ski?” your sweet voice, thick with sleep, filled his ears. He clenched his fists, the bitter taste of blood filling his mouth.

“Go to your dorm. You’re gonna end up with a fucked up neck and back sleeping like that, idiot.”

He began to walk away after that, heading towards the elevator at the end of the room. He didn’t get far, though. The unpleasant screech of a chair on the hard floor, followed by the far more pleasant feeling of your hand wrapped around his wrist stopped him right in his tracks.

“Wait!”

“Go to bed, Y/N,” Katsuki warned. The last thing he wanted was to have whatever conversation you were attempting to start with him.

“No. I can’t sleep, anyway. I just keep worrying about you. Please. Just tell me what’s wrong and what I can do to fix it,” you implored.

Katsuki was tense under your grip, but he didn’t try to pull away, even as he let out a loud huff of frustration.

“Just fuck off, okay? There’s nothing you can do.”

You stared at the back of his head with so much pain and sadness in your eyes. Katsuki could feel your gaze on him. He knew better than to look back at you. That look alone would break his heart more than anything else could.

“I won’t ever stop trying, Katsuki. And neither will Eiji. We care about you so much. We miss you so badly. Please, just talk to me. If not me, then Eiji.” Your voice was starting to waver slightly as you spoke. Katsuki hated himself for being the reason behind your sadness and tears.

Even still, he couldn’t let you in on this. Neither you, nor Eijirou, could know. He just needed more time to sort out his feelings and lock them away, where they belonged. But after four days, he was still struggling to get himself back in order. All of it was starting to consume him, distract him, make him perform badly as a student and a hero in training. That part only encouraged him to avoid the two of you even more. He wasn’t going to let stupid feelings ruin everything he had worked so hard for.

His silence only pushed you to speak again.

“Katsuki?”

“No.” He pulled away from your grip, but you reached out to grab him again.

“Katsuki, please!”

He spun around to face you, eyes brimming with tears as he yelled in your face.

“What?! You just can't leave shit alone, can you?! Just fuck off, already!”

You looked at him with heartbroken eyes, biting your lower lip to suppress its quivering as tears began to fall down your face.

Fuck.

Katsuki inhaled sharply as his broken and battered heart shattered to pieces in his chest. Both of you were silent as you stared at one another, unsure of how to progress the conversation without breaking into a fit of tears.

“Fuck, I’m…I’m sorry,” Katsuki mumbled, voice just audible as he looked down at the ground between you. “Just leave me alone, okay? You and Ei are better off without me, anyway.”

He pulled away from your grip and this time, you didn’t reach for him again. However, your voice still followed him as he walked further away from you.

“How could you say that? You mean the world to us, Kats! We’re fucking lost without you! We need you. If this is about the other day, just forget about it. I’m fine. All is forgiven-”

“It’s not just about that.” He stopped in his tracks once more, back facing you.

“Then what is it about? Are you mad at me or Eijirou?”

Katsuki shook his head. Your confusion and desperation drew you closer to him. His feet remained glued to the floor.

“You’re not mad?”

“I-“ Katsuki stopped himself. “Just fuck off, Y/N. I’m not going to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

“Because!”

“Katsuki!”

"BECAUSE I- ugh!" he growled, "because it would be selfish of me to tell you! It’d only make things worse! I'm trying to be...fucking better than that."

You opened your mouth to speak, but he continued.

“It was selfish of me to stick around as long as I did. I should’ve just left the two of you be a long time ago. I thought I could-” He sighed. “Never mind. Point is, it’s gone too far. You even got hurt because of my stupid bullshit.”

“What has gone too far? Katsuki, stop talking like this. You’re not going anywhere. Let’s go wake Eiji and we’ll talk this out.” There was a clear presence of fear in your tone as you reached out to grab his left hand that was clenched in a tight fist at his side.

He ripped himself away from you. “No. This conversation is over.”

The way he spoke, his voice quiet, lacking any of his usual attitude, made your stomach twist in knots. He sounded so sad, so weak, completely defeated. It was completely unlike him, and it scared the shit out of you.

“I give you full permission to be selfish! Just fucking look at me! Tell me what’s wrong!” you begged.

At this point, you were seconds away from getting on your knees just to get his attention, or at the very least, pity. You couldn’t let him walk out of this room. You knew the chances of getting him to open up to you again after this were slim to none. This was it. You had to fight harder; show him you weren’t giving up on him, no matter how hard he pushed you away.

Katsuki was silent, but you could see the way his hands trembled at his sides; his head hung low, his chest heaving. You waited with bated breath behind him, praying he wouldn’t walk away.

Surprisingly, after what felt like a millennium, he turned to face you, his head still facing the floor.

You were scared to make the wrong move, as if you were faced with a small, wounded animal that could scurry off if you so much as breathed the wrong way.

“Kats?” you whispered softly. “It’s okay.”

He shook his head. “No. It’s not.”

“Why do you say that? Katsuki, look at me.” You stepped forward and raised your hand, gently lifting his chin up so you could finally meet his eyes. What you saw broke your heart.

Red eyes glossed over with tears, lower lip quivering as he tried and failed to stifle the emotions that seemed to overtake him. Your eyes only filled with more tears of your own as you stared back at him sadly.

“I don’t want to see you happy without me,” he whispered, breaking the silence between the two of you.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“I want to be the reason you are happy. I want to give you everything you deserve and more. Both of you.”

“Katsuki…You do make us happy. If anything, we are the least happy when you’re not around,” you said, fingers tracing down his wrist and giving his hand a small squeeze once he allowed you to grasp it. He only seemed to grow more upset at this as he looked down at your interlocked hands.

“But you don’t want me, you want each other.”

“What are you talking about? Of course, we wa-” You froze as realization hit you. “Wait…”

Katsuki made a tsk sound. "Looks like you finally got it. Took you long enough."

You blinked at him. "I- Kats, if you have something to tell me, you better say it now."

"I think you know. Why don't you tell me?"

He was too scared to say it and you knew it.

"Katsuki-"

"Tell me."

You sighed, suddenly growing nervous as you began to second-guess if what you were about to say was actually correct. Katsuki's hold on your hand grew tighter as he awaited your answer. If he wasn't so focused on what you were about to say, he'd be embarrassed about the growing dampness between your palms.

"I...do you....do you have...feelings....for me and Eiji?"

Katsuki’s silence was all the confirmation you needed. You let out a breath of relief.

“Kats-”

“Do you?” he asked, before clarifying. “Have feelings for me? If the answer is ‘no’, say it now and we’ll never speak about it again.”

You stepped closer to him, slippers touching his as you looked at him with soft eyes.

"What if the answer is ‘yes’?" you whispered.

For a moment, you both exchanged glances between eyes and lips, your hearts racing as you awaited the other’s move.

Finally, Katsuki spoke.

"Do I still have permission to be selfish?"

You nodded, and before you knew it, his hands were on either side of your face, and his lips were crashing against yours.

He pushed you against the nearby wall, never breaking his lips from yours, as he kissed you hungrily, desperately, lovingly. You ran your fingernails up the nape of his neck, weaving your fingers through his messy blond locks and earning a groan from him as he pulled you closer by your hips and deepened the kiss even more.

By the time he came up for air, you were both panting heavily. His grip on your hips didn’t loosen and neither did yours around his neck as you stared at each other speechlessly.

After a moment, your lips formed into a smile.

“We’ve been wanting to tell you,” you confessed.

Katsuki’s soft smile quickly faded into a bewildered frown. “Hah?”

“Eijirou and I, we want you, Katsuki. As far more than a friend.”

Katsuki visibly stopped breathing for a brief moment. You nervously continued to speak.

“But there’s no pressure or anything! We just wanted to talk to you about how we feel, not just for each other, but for you. Every time we’d try, you stormed off, or were clearly out of it, so we were too nervous to bring it up.”

“How long?”

Now it was your turn to look confused.

“What?”

“How long have you and Eijirou been talking about this?”

“Well, we confessed to each other almost two weeks ago-”

“Two weeks?! Fuck you!” he cursed.

You gasped. “Hey! Watch it, mister!”

“Fuck you for ruining my life by making me love you so goddamn much! And fuck both of you for not telling me sooner and letting me suffer! Do you have any idea how painful it has been watching the two of you idiots and your stupid cutesy, touchy, flirty bullshit, every single day?” he ranted, obviously frustrated, but not truly directed at you.

“Aw, Kats…We didn’t realize-”

“’Course you didn’t! You were too wrapped up in each other! I always thought you’d never return my feelings because it was obvious you two were obsessed with each other.”

This time, he sounded sad. You cupped his face with your hands, gently running your thumbs over his soft cheeks.

“We have always been obsessed with you too, Kats. It’s not that we didn’t want to be that way with you too. We were just never quite sure about your feelings for us and we didn’t want to cross any lines or make you uncomfortable,” you explained.

He let out a sigh, eyes closing as he relaxed into your touch.

“We should talk with Ei tomorrow,” you said.

He nodded in agreement, soaking up the feeling of your touch; something he had dreamed of and desperately craved for so long. Finally, his dreams were coming true. He was melting between the palms of your hands, and he couldn't have been happier about it.

Now that he'd had a taste, he'd be damned if he were to ever let you go.

“You’re mine now. Got it?” he said, his hands slightly squeezing your hips as he looked into your eyes.

You smirked amusingly at him. “Woah there, don’t get too selfish now. You gotta share.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. I don't mind sharing. So long as it's with Shitty Hair, I can manage. That doesn’t mean you’re not mine, though!”

You giggled, pulling him in for another kiss, to which he happily obliged. This time, he kissed you back tenderly, savoring every second of your soft lips on his. You melted into him completely, allowing him to pull you even closer against him, his strong arms keeping you locked in place.

You placed a hand on his chest at one point, signaling that you needed air. He grunted before reluctantly pulling away.

He pressed his forehead against yours, smirking at the way you grew visibly flustered under his intensely loving gaze.

“It’s late. W-We should get to bed.”

He hummed in response. “Fine.”

Taking your hand, he walked you over to the elevator across the room, both of you still silently processing all that had just happened until you finally reached the large metal doorway.

You stepped inside the elevator, bidding him goodnight.

“Night,” he said, turning around and beginning to walk away.

His feet came to a halt when he felt a sudden, familiar urge take over him, and this time, he didn’t fight it. Before he knew it, he had his arm between the metal doors, forcing them to reopen.

“Kats-”

He interrupted you by crashing his lips against yours once more, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed you with everything he had. Every skipped beat of his heart, every pang in his stomach, every moment of longing, every loving thought he’d ever had of you flashed through his mind. For once, he wasn’t concerned about ruining anything, of hurting anyone, of losing you. All he cared about was satisfying the insufferable itch of longing and desire he’d carried for you all this time.

Finally, the noose was gone, the bad feelings dissipating while the others became one with his being. He could breathe again.

When he pulled away, he was smiling. He was happy.

And you were too. Happy because of him. Happy with him.

“You should be selfish more often,” you said, still trying to catch your breath.

Katsuki stopped the doors from closing in on him, his eyes still locked on you as he let out a chuckle.

“That’s a first. Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart.”

He backed out of the elevator, finally allowing the doors to close. You stared at him as heat rushed to your face, capturing a glimpse of his growing smirk until he was no longer in sight.

Katsuki Bakugou was a selfish man.

And oh, did you love every bit of him.

*The next day*

"Mannn...I can't believe you guys kissed for the first time and I wasn't even there for it!" Eijirou whined, an adorable pout on his face as he looked between the two of you.

"Are you jealous, Eiji?" you teased, lightly nudging him with your elbow.

"Yes! Do you know how long I've been waiting to kiss you both? It's been torture holding out from kissing you while waiting for Katsuki to get on board, and now I've come to find out that you two were making out for the first time without me?!"

Katsuki shrugged, nodding towards you. "They gave me permission. Blame them."

Eijirou scoffed. "I sure hope they did!"

"He means, I gave him permission to be selfish. I didn't know he was going to kiss me when I said that," you clarified.

"Oh, you knew, and you sure as hell didn't stop me."

"Well, of course not!" you said.

Katsuki smirked at you and you felt heat rush to your face. A brief knowing look was shared between the two of you as you recalled the events of the previous night.

Eijirou watched your silent interaction, his pout increasing as he whined. "I wanna kiss you both too!"

"You snooze, you lose," Katsuki said, breaking his stare away from you and taking a sip of his coffee.

Eijirou narrowed his eyes at him. "Scratch that. I definitely don't wanna kiss you right now."

"Hey!" Katsuki barked, looking at the redhead offendedly.

You giggled at them both, pressing a kiss to each of their cheeks.

"Both of you, hush. We have plenty of time for kissing later. Now, let's get to work! We can't fail this exam!"

Katsuki rolled his eyes, trying to fight off the growing redness on his cheeks. "Now look who's all ready to study, for once."

"Well, we gotta make sure we all pass! I'm not being left in the dust by the two of you just because of one stupid failed exam!" you said.

Eijirou’s eyes softened as he looked at you. "Aw, hun, we would never."

Katsuki nodded in agreement. "Damn straight. I'll make sure both of you idiots pass, even if I have to jam all the information into your heads myself."

"That always works with me! Right, Kats?" Eijirou flashed his sharp toothy smile.

Katsuki hummed, growing even more flustered over how cute the redhead looked when he smiled at him like that. Thankfully, you managed to draw the attention away from him long enough for him to hide his fond smile. He couldn't let either of you know just how soft he was for you, yet.

A giggle fell past your lips as you spoke. "Good for you, Eiji. But I'd like to refrain from developing a concussion the day before the exam."

Katsuki’s attention moved back to you, a cocky smirk growing on his face. "I could always kiss the information into you."

Eijirou gasped. "What?! No fair!"

"Both of you, be quiet and focus! Or no kisses at all!”

. . .

That shut them right up.

‣ If you enjoyed this fic, please like, comment, and/or reblog! Doing so not only keeps my blog alive, but also lets me know what you like and how to improve!

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for Katsuki Bakugou, Eijirou Kirishima, KiriBaku, or be tagged in all of my future MHA writings, let me know by sending me an ask/message, or comment on this post!

‣ Taglist: @jslittlebirdie @xkatsukizukux

[emergingghost]

julien baker live lyric changes masterpost

the many ways that julien changes her lyrics over time and seamlessly alters the lyrics and meanings of her songs to maintain a level of personal authenticity has become so fascinating to me and many others so i thought it'd be nice to do some research and compile as many as i can.

enjoy! or cry! whichever!

the original lyrics are in parenthesis, changes are bolded, roughly in chronological order and i’ve added timestamped links to performances [x] where i can! i use mostly youtube because it's the most accessible. some of these seem to be permanent changes and others are just occasional, probably depending on how she's vibing with the song at the time (i'm assuming). let me know of any i’ve missed!

Rejoice: [x] [x] [x] pronoun change, does this lots!

"i know there's a god and they hear either way"

("i think there's a god and he hears either way")

[x] she uses the 'she' pronoun here this time!

[x] she sings 'force' here and also in a version she performed pre-release

"asking why did you let them leave and then force me to stay?"

("asking why did you let them leave and then make me stay?")

Good News: [x] [x] [x] these are not full lyric changes but rather some gut-wrenching repetition. side note she performs a cover of paul by big thief in the first clip here too!

"it's less about you / it's all about how i ruin everything oh everything i do / everything i do / god i ruin everything oh everything / oh everything i think could be good news."

("it's less about you / it's more about how i ruin everything--- i think could be good news")

Distant Solar Systems: [x] pronoun change speaking of god, she also omits the second last verse.

"I send postcards from the road and now and then she answers"

("and now and then he answers")

Turn Out the Lights: [x] [x] [x] this one hurts! a few times in late '18 and in '19

"maybe i'd do it but it's not a joke"

("i'd never do it but it's not a joke")

Sour Breath: [x] [x] another one that hurts!!

"think all the liquors gonna keep me warm / burn everything down just to prove i could / leave you inside a body made of wood"

("think all the liquors gonna keep you warm / burn everything down just to prove you could / leave me inside a body made of wood")

[x] audio only from 1:16 (same changes as above +)

"i don't do too well when everyone's worried about me"

("i don't do too well when nobody's worried about me")

Appointments: [x] [x] [x] in lots of performances post-2018. she switches between using 'know' and 'think' occasionally

“i know that i ruined this / but i think i can live with it / nothing turned out how pictured it ... i think that i failed again / but i know you’re still listening”

("i think if i ruin this / that i know i can live with it / nothing turns out like I pictured it ... i think if i fail again / then i know you’re still listening")

[x] audio only - from 2:45 (same changes as above +)

"i hope you're still listening"

("i know you're still listening")

Happy to Be Here: [x] tiny changes. not sure if she's done this more than once

"different me would be inhabiting my body / have two cars, a garage, a dog..."

("different me would be inhabiting this body / have two cars, a garage, a job...")

Something: [x] [x] [x] [x] (she adds 'again' a lot, even since 2015)

“asking aloud why you’re leaving again”

(“asking aloud why you’re leaving--”)

[x] (this was prior to release)

"asking aloud why you're leaving again / i know you won't answer me"

("asking aloud why you're leaving --- / but the pavement won't answer me")

Red Door: [x]

"beneath before you won't follow me down"

("beneath before you wont follow me there")

Shadowboxing: [x] [x audio only - from 3:09]

"tell me that you love me / tell me you love me / i wanted so bad to believe you / so tell me you loved me / tell me you loved me / i wanted so bad to believe you" )

("when you tell me you love me / tell me you loved me / i wanted so bad to believe it / so tell me you love me / tell me you loved me")

Ziptie: [x] [x] [x] [x] (side note the end of the second clip rules!!)

“someone’s/somethings got my heart in a ziptie”

(“someone’s got my head in a ziptie”)

Tokyo: [x] [x] [x audio only - from 1:30] in a few performances in 2022

“a seven-car pile-up of every disastrous thing that i am"

(“a seven-car pile-up of every disastrous thing that i’ve been”)

+ also sings "accident" instead of "aftermath" in the audio clip

Relative Fiction: [x] [x] [x] [x] does this lots!

"honey you're the only thing i'll wait around for"

("--you’re the only thing i’ll wait around for")

Highlight Reel: [x] [x audio only from 1:45 ] original chorus lyrics are 'you feel' but now in one chorus she sings 'to' and the other she sings 'you'

"ooh it's a highlight reel / tell me how to feel"

("ooh it's a highlight reel / tell me how you feel")

Ringside: [x] [x] [x audio only from 3:50] two separate lyrics changes in these clips!

"like a scratch-off ticket how i dig my nails into your skin"

("like a scratch-off ticket how you dig your nails into my skin")

(from final verse)

“nobody deserves a second chance / so why do i keep getting them?”

(“nobody deserves a second chance / but i keep giving them”)

[x] [x] (from the second last verse)

“nobody deserves a second chance / but somehow i keep fucking getting them”

(“nobody deserves a second chance / but honey i keep getting them")

Anti-Curse: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] she doesn't always change 'foreign characters'

"writing the words to the best love song you've ever heard" ...“sounding out familiar characters”

("writing the words to the worst love song you've ever heard"...“sounding out the foreign characters”)

HONOURABLE MENTIONS:

Favor: [x] [x] [x] [x] first change - changing to 'why?' in most live performances

“why couldn’t you make me do it?”

(“well you couldn’t make me do it”)

[x] [x] new change from MSG in 2023!

“how did you make me do it?”

(“well you couldn’t make me do it”)

Funeral Pyre: [x]

this is just a funny thing i found on my hunt. the audience accidentally corrected her grammar, theyre singing along and sing "needed so badly" instead of the original "needed so bad" and everyone took a lil' moment to laugh.

Funeral Pyre: allegedly. i just read about it somewhere so have no proof!!

“while i drank gasoline 'cause it's what i needed so bad”

(“while you drank gasoline 'cause it's what you needed so bad”)

Shadowboxing: [x]

she doesn't really change any lyrics significantly but repeats the final verse for emphasis.

Good News: [x] (i think an early/demo version but i cant find any other recordings/videos of this version!)

"how i fuck up everything i think could be good news"

("how i ruin everything i think could be good news")

Rejoice: [x] house show performance from 2015 before official release. a few different lyrics!

"ask you why did you let them leave and then force me to stay?"

("asking why did you let them leave and then make me stay?")

(final verse)

"i rejoice anyway / i rejoice either way"

("i rejoice i rejoice / i rejoice i rejoice")

Sour Breath: [x]

she added a new mini verse repeating "the harder i swim" where there are usually just instrumentals or 'oohs.' then she continued with the original final "the harder i swim the faster i sink" verse.

Sour Breath: [x] house show performance from 2015 before official release. there's an entire additional verse where the repeated 'the harder i swim the fast i sink' usually is. proceed with caution.

"...too late to talk just go to sleep

been up too long and you've been drinkin' all night

it's almost a week and you haven't said a word

been thinkin' it isn't worth the tryin'

it takes to fix everything you hate about me

all that you wouldn't wanna see

the harder i swim, the faster i sink

and all i ever wanted was to pull you down with me

was to pull you down with me

don't you wanna sink with me?

don't you wanna drown with me?

just let me pull you down..."

[yatagarasuhonyaku]

The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Chapter 4 "Yukiya" Part 1

Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.

Blog version

For the Index, you can find it HERE

Previously: Chihaya (Part 3)

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

Chapter 3: Yukiya (Part 1)

“Taken. Please, your verification.”

The boy's clear voice reverberated through the wide hall.

Two men stood on the stands at each side of the Field, each one completely unlike the other. The first was a bulky middle aged man, all dressed up in a splendid iron blue haori with crests engraved on it. The second was a boy of small stature, dressed merely in a simple feather robe.

At the moment, the big man was pale as a sheet, staring at the Field with plain incredulity—yet no matter how many times he checked it, the situation on the board wasn’t going to change.

The boy, on the other hand, calmly waited for the judge's resolution. The only colors in the midst of the pure black of his feather robe came from a crimson strap and a green decorative jewel. His hair was the same color as the fertile soil of a farming field, bouncy as it fell on his perfectly straight back.

He was apparently only two years older than me, yet we were more or less the same height —in fact, the Ornamented Blade resting on his hip looked disproportionate. Nevertheless, he had an unflinching figure, enveloped in an air of genuine self-confidence. 

“I've verified it. Winner, lower side.”

With the announcement of the judge declaring him the winner, the boy calmly moved on to the customary greetings. “Thank you for the match.”

A commotion ensued—people's voices were filled with wonder rather than joy at the results. It turned out that the middle aged man, who had just lost during the Board Drill, was in fact a high ranking official and commander in active service working at the Feathered Grove. Everyone had thought it was impossible for the boy to win against the man, despite his ever rising reputation through the past few days’ matches.

——Amazing! To think he would actually win!

Now, what could be cooler than watching a boy almost my age face such a high ranked opponent as an equal? 

People in the audience moved forward to interrogate the boy, one after the other, about the match that had just finished. ‘Why did you choose that strategy?’ ‘How did you plan to counter him if he had chosen this different method of attack?’ The boy answered everyone soundly and without hesitation.

With the match review over, the boy finally stepped down from the stand and left the building for a break. I was reluctantly watching him go, when the Township Lord—the man who had brought me here in the first place—asked me between laughs, “Do you want to go say hi?”

We found the boy right outside the hall, eating rice balls as he chatted with a group of people—possibly his friends. 

“Sapling Yukiya, do you have a moment?” The Township Lord called to him.

Right then, the boy—Sapling Yukiya—noticed our presence, immediately fixing his posture. “Oh, what a surprise, Your Lordship. It's an honor to have you here. I didn’t expect you to come all the way from Ayukuni multiple days in a row.”

“Oh, it's all for my own enjoyment, in part at least. There are very few chances to watch such a huge gathering of Yamauchi's most famous and skilled generals—and your match today too. It was splendid.”

“My deepest gratitude for the compliment.”

The two of them chatted animatedly. In the meantime, my eyes were all but glued on Sapling Yukiya.

——He was truly tiny.

Now that I could see him up close, his physical appearance proved to be utterly unremarkable. The only standout was the air of maturity surrounding him, of which there was not a trace on my peers back home. He had a somewhat dignified presence, made apparent by how he managed to talk with the Township Lord with such ease.

“To tell the truth, I wanted to introduce you to someone. I thought it would be a good learning experience, you see, so I brought him here with me. He should be joining the Unbending Reed Monastery next year.”

“Oh, so he's a future junior?” Prompted by the Township Lord's words, Sapling Yukiya’s eyes turned towards me.

“I-It’s an honor to meet you! I'm Haruma of Ayukuni! Your match earlier was truly, truly wonderful. You were so imposing, Sapling Yukiya, despite your size—”

As I babbled on, all overexcited, I was suddenly struck by what I had just said. I froze immediately, taken aback by my own discourtesy. However, Sapling Yukiya didn't even blame me for my blunder—he let out a giggle instead. “Size plays no part in strategy, does it? That said, as long as today's match left an impression on you, that's all that matters.”

“...... It absolutely did!”

What a mature, big-hearted person he turned out to be! I was more and more impressed by the moment. I had gone on a fervent speech about what a help it had been to watch his match and just how fascinated I was by Sapling Yukiya's approach to battle tactics, when the Township Lord interrupted me with a wry smile, “Well, just as you see, Haruma here is a bit of an oddball. In fact, I've been secretly hoping that he has what it takes to become a second you of sorts.”

Those words were apparently enough for Sapling Yukiya to realize what the Township Lord’s expectations were.

“I see.” He nodded ever so slightly, giving me a much more serious look than before. “It's heartening for me as well to have trainees like you. We are both oddballs, so let's work hard together,” Sapling Yukiya said to me with a bright smile.

——That was the moment my path in life was set.

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

The lecture hall's roof tiles sparkled as they bathed in the early spring's sunlight, all slightly different colors from being replaced time and time again. This was his first visit to the Unbending Reed Monastery in a very long time and, while he didn't regret dropping out, it was proving to have something nostalgic about it.

He was overcome by emotion, his new status as yet another outsider to the Monastery hitting him as he went through the access procedure, when someone shrieked at his back. “Wait a moment! Isn't that Lord Professor?”

Akeru looked up to find a couple of young men. They had been walking around together just a moment ago, but they were now running towards him—Hisaya and Tatsuto. Back when they were all Seeds, he looked after them quite a bit.

“It has been a whole year, hasn't it? How have you been?”

Akeru forced a smile at that. “I'm doing just fine working for His Highness Wakamiya, fortunately. More importantly, how about you? The Trial of Storm should be almost over, right?”

The second he asked that, his ex-peers’ gazes went distant. “Well, this year's first and second of the class were as good as settled, so the Trial was all for us average people to fight over the scraps,” Tatsuto explained with resignation.

“Still, I feel sorry for Shige,” Hisaya added. “If it were only the practical courses, he would have had a chance—he beat Yukiya and Chihaya in some of those. But he still ended up third because of all the points he lost in theory.”

“Well, and if you had been here, the results could have changed even further……” Tatsuto quietly mentioned.

Akeru laughed at that. “What are you implying? Don’t tell me that you want me to act as your teacher even now as Evergreens?”

“No, I didn't mean it like that!”

“I mean, you passed the Trial of Mist, didn't you? Wouldn't it have been better for you to become an Evergreen with us instead?”

Akeru gave them a big snort. “Well, I would have surely taken first place if I had stayed here, of course. But what option did I have? His Highness Wakamiya asked me to come back ‘by all means’. Ah, such are the woes of those overflowing with talent,” he said, waving his arms in a theatrical manner.

The other two, well-aware of Akeru's actual scores, loudly cackled in answer. “Oh, don't make me laugh! You weren't capable of beating us in Horsemanship even once in all your time here.”

“You're truly the same old guy, huh? That's a relief, actually.”

“Why would I have changed that easily—!? Anyway, do you two know where the hell Yukiya is?” Akeru asked. He had gone through the trouble of coming all the way to the Monastery for a reason.

The two of them glanced at each other.

“Now that's bad timing to have business with Yukiya.”

“We decided the order for the tests by lottery, you see. So Yukiya and Sadamori's battle ended up being the very last one. Those two are actually the only ones yet to finish the Trial of Storm—their Strategy match is tomorrow.”

The trainees’ skills in Strategy were tested by a demonstration match during the Trial of Storm. The two Evergreens took the role of generals in a large-scale mock battle, while the Seeds and Saplings acted as their soldiers. Even the information on the training field, chosen among the few big ones across Yamauchi, was kept from them until the day before.

Which meant that, at the time, Yukiya was cloistered in his given ‘headquarters’ as he went over the data they had prepared for him, ironing out his battle plan for the next day.

“We haven't seen him since this morning, and Chihaya and Shige have way too much time on their hands right now. They probably went over there to banter already.”

“Can you at least tell me where Yukiya's headquarters are then?”

“No idea. The Instructors are probably your only remaining option.”

Then, just as Akeru was considering what to do next, someone else meekly cut in on the conversation. 

“Excuse me, seniors?” Akeru turned to find a trainee he didn't recognize—a Seed, given his decorative jewel was white. His body was thin, and freckles were spread all over his nose. He gave off quite the serious aura. “I'm sorry, I didn't plan to eavesdrop, but…… If you wish, I can guide you to Evergreen Yukiya's headquarters.”

“Oooh, really?”

“Yes. Just—I have to pick up something from the kitchen fist. Could you wait for a moment?”

He was quite the polite junior. Tatsuto and Hisaya were smiling wryly at him. “So Yukiya is working you to the bone as usual, huh?”

“You know you can tell him no if you want, right?”

“Oh, but I'm doing this because I want to, don't worry. Well then, I'll be back in a moment,” the Seed bowed his head and left in a dash.

Once he was gone, Akeru asked, “Who is that?”

“Yukiya's pupil. Name's Haruma. He has the best scores in Strategy among the Seeds by far and actually got dragged into Yukiya's Tactical Research Group the very second he got here.”

“Woah, poor kid.”

“Well, it seems Haruma himself really admires Yukiya too, so, from the looks of it, they're surprisingly doing just fine?”

“He's surely being fooled by appearances—now that makes me feel even sorrier for him.”

As they enthusiastically enjoyed some gossiping, Haruma returned in a dash, packages in his arms. “My apologies for making you wait, follow me.”

Akeru said his farewells to the two Evergreens, and so left the Unbending Reed Monastery guided by Haruma.

“Ah, now that I think about it, I haven't introduced myself to you yet. I’m—” Akeru tried to give the boy his name, but he was cut off before he could.

“It’s fine, I know,” Haruma cheerfully said. “Akeru of the Western House, right? You joined the Unbending Reed Monastery at the same time as Evergreen Yukiya and the rest but you’re now working as His Highness Wakamiya’s close aide. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Haruma spoke with a big, cheerful smile. Akeru’s eyes went wide open. “Wait, they didn’t say anything weird about me, right?” 

“Not at all! Evergreen Yukiya even complimented you, saying you were ‘very wise’.” While, from the looks of it, Haruma’s interpretation of the words had been quite well-meaning, Akeru had a hunch about what Yukiya truly meant with ‘wise’—it gave him all kinds of conflicted feelings.

He may have spoken like that to Tatsuto and Hisaya, but Akeru knew better than anyone that he was no match for Yukiya and the others. Hence, after clearing the Trial of Mist, Akeru went to personally meet with Wakamiya one more time. ‘I’ve learned enough combat to protect myself but, even if I were to stay in the Monastery, it’s impossible for me to reach the heights required to protect Your Highness.’ After that, Akeru made his request to again serve directly under Wakamiya from that point onwards.

Wakamiya was appreciative of Akeru’s efforts and, this time, enlisted him as his close aide from the very beginning. Akeru was well aware that his lack of talent as a warrior would have truly become apparent if he had stayed any longer and was firm in his belief that he made the right choice back then.

That said, he didn’t enjoy others pointing it out even one bit. “That bastard…… I’ve heard you really admire Yukiya—is that true?”

“It is! I mean, I wouldn’t have even had the chance to be at the Monastery in the first place if it wasn’t for Evergreen Yukiya.”

Haruma was a commoner from the Eastern Region. He had always liked studying, but his social status had greatly limited his options to focus on such an endeavor no matter how much he wanted it. So, as he had some skill with the sword, he requested admission to the Unbending Reed Monastery, aiming for a recommendation from his Township’s Lord. However, his physical capabilities proved to be one step behind all the other candidates. 

“I lost at the test matches. I truly thought that was it for me and was about ready to give up, but—” The Township Lord gave Haruma one of his precious few recommendation letters despite his results. “I couldn’t believe it! Then, when I asked him why he chose me, he brought up Evergreen Yukiya.”

Up until then, the Township Lord had been of the belief that those tough of body and blessed with physical strength were the only ones fit to become Yamauchi Guards. Yet recent events had made him consider that, perhaps, having a Guard with a clear, bright mind would be a good idea as well.

“And then! Arguing it was a perfect chance, the Township Lord even brought me to Reed Waterway Temple!” The moment he heard that, Akeru could already tell how the rest of the story was about to proceed.

It all happened about two years ago.

The rumors about a teen prodigy who had managed to defeat Suikan—the best tactician of their era—spread like wildfire in the military world. That, coupled with the fact that Suikan actually left the Monastery afterwards, led to the organization of what they called a ‘Strategy Workshop’. A screening process for the position of Strategy’s new practical Instructor in all but name.

The event included officials from the Yamauchi Guard and the Feathered Grove, as well as out-of-office scholars focused on war tactics. Everyone with confidence in their own tactical skills gathered at Reed Waterway Temple and dueled each other to determine the level of their talents.

Within the region, the event was referred to as the Reed Waterway Workshop.

With all that said and done, Yukiya, the very source of the problem at hand, proved to be the center of everyone’s attention at the Workshop. The Warfare Record of his match with Suikan had already made the rounds by that point and anyone who saw it could tell that Yukiya’s odd strategy had to be a stroke of good luck—or cheating.

At first, everyone believed that the so-called ‘Unbending Reed Monastery’s Teen Prodigy(1)’ would give himself away at the Reed Waterway Workshop—but Yukiya didn’t employ any tactic like the one against Suikan. Not even once. He battled within orthodoxy, facing his upper side opponents strictly with by-the-book tactics. Sometimes he won, sometimes he lost. He performed splendidly as well in the reviewing process after the matches themselves. 

After that, his ‘Monastery’s Teen Prodigy’ nickname stopped being used as a form of mockery and quickly became genuine. The man ultimately chosen as the new Instructor was an ex-Yamauchi Guard, already retired from any sort of active service—but the renown Yukiya gained during the event was undoubtedly second to none.

“I was quite shocked when I first saw Evergreen Yukiya with my own eyes,” Haruma said with a dreamy look in his eyes, apparently lost in the memory. “Back then, Evergreen Yukiya was even smaller than I am now. But he wasn’t intimidated, no matter his opponent—he even won against people way above him! I got way too worked up,” Haruma forced a shy smile, “and even ended up disrespecting him after a match. However! He didn't seem at all bothered by it and was so nice to me. He even offered to help me out when I actually arrived at the Monastery.”

True to his word, Yukiya did apparently take quite good care of Haruma after he joined the Unbending Reed Monastery. “There are many juniors who admire Evergreen Yukiya just like me, but for me, he isn't only an example to follow—he's someone I owe my life to.”

In sharp contrast with Haruma's bright smile, Akeru found himself tremendously conflicted and desperately swallowing his words.

“I'm glad to be of any help to him whatsoever. I don't really care what others may say about it.”

“Hey, wolf in sheep's clothing bastard.” Curse words were the first thing to come out of Akeru’s mouth as he pulled the tent flap open.

Yukiya was there, sitting on a camp stool as he looked at the maps spread over the nearby stand. He just laughed in answer, his eyes still fixed on the papers. “What’s up with that? And out of nowhere!”

“Don't you have even the slightest of a guilty conscience, deceiving your poor innocent junior like that?”

“Deceiving? Perish the thought. I'm truly just a kind and caring senior.”

“Now that’s bullshit. I know you're twisted to the core, don't you lie to me.”

Nevertheless, Akeru's cursing was promptly ignored with a laugh. “So what's the deal? You came all the way here, so there must be some kind of emergency.”

As he said that, Yukiya finally raised his head.

His physical appearance had changed significantly since their days as Seeds. His features, which were once only possible to be described as round and plump, had gotten sharper with age. At the moment, gentle and soft would be a better description for them. It was a terrifying thought, but someone could even mistake Yukiya as an eloquent, fine young man by appearance alone. He had truly gone through quite the transformation. 

And, while he had been the smallest among the Monastery trainees back in the day, he now possessed the fit, strong body of a warrior. Someone who hadn’t seen him in the last three years would probably have a hard time recognizing him at first. Most frustrating of it all was his height—before Akeru even realized it, Yukiya had gotten taller than him.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Akeru cleared his throat. “Indeed. I came here with a message from His Highness Wakamiya.”

“From His Highness?” Yukiya tried to ask back, but someone else's voice overlapped with his.

“Hey!” It was Shigemaru's. From where, Akeru couldn't tell. “We'll end up overhearing the conversation if we stay here, is that fine with you?”

Before Akeru got the chance to ask where he was, Shigemaru pulled up the edge of the tent right behind Yukiya and popped his head in. “Hey, Akeru!”

“Shigemaru! What are you doing here?”

“It's not only me, Chihaya is here too. I was making some tea for my best friend, being as he is in the middle of the Trial of Storm and all, but I guess it may be best for us to leave now?”

Shigemaru attempted to retreat, but Akeru stopped him. “No, you can stay. You two are going to be the second and third of the class after all, right? You'll be tasked with His Highness’ protection in the near future anyway, so it may actually be for the best.”

Besides, Shigemaru and Chihaya had already met Wakamiya on multiple occasions before and, being Yukiya and Akeru's friends, the people in Wakamiya's Faction had regarded them as allies for a long time now. What was even the point of keeping them out after all that?

“Really? Then, please, wait for just a bit!”

Shortly after Shigemaru's face vanished from the tent, he and Chihaya came in. This time, actually through the door.

“Hey, little Lord, a messenger this time? I see you're right at home with menial work.”

“Shut your trap, you poor bastard.”

The instant they saw each other, Akeru and Chihaya proceeded to exchange quite vicious greetings. The latter was carrying bamboo tea cups, while Shigemaru held a steaming iron kettle in his hands.

They all pushed aside the stand with the maps and, after spreading a mat on the ground, sat down in a circle.

“It's low-grade tea, but if that’s fine with you—”

“Thank you.”

After wetting his lips with the tea Shigemaru courteously poured for him, Akeru took a bunch of papers out of a bundled package he had brought with him. “First of all, take a look at this.”

Yukiya took the papers offered, all while Chihaya and Shigemaru peeked over his shoulder to check the contents. “Wait, what the hell is this?”

The paper was filled with a tiny grid broken down by lines. Shigemaru and Chihaya looked at it with puzzlement, yet Yukiya seemed to figure it out quite fast. “Is this one of those ‘statistical graphs' from the Outside?”

“That it is. At Wakamiya's request, we checked the records of the last hundred years and gathered data on the water levels in Center Mountain and its surroundings using this Outside-style methodology. Can you read it? The vertical lines on the grid represent the amount of water and the horizontal ones the time.”

Yukiya seemed to grasp his instructions almost immediately. He followed the lines with his finger and let out a soft ‘I see’. “It does make it quite easy to see the evolution over time.”

“Wait, what do you mean?”

Yukiya left the paper on the mat so Shigemaru and Chihaya had an easier time seeing it. “In short, the more this line goes up, the more water we had at the time. The opposite is also true, the lower it goes, the less water.”

If one paid attention to the general evolution, although the line would go up and down again and again, the overall tendency was down. Thanks to Yukiya’s explanation as he traced the line with his finger, Chihaya finally grasped its meaning as well and gave a questioning look to Akeru. “The water at Center Mountain is—dwindling down?”

“That seems to be the case.”

Supporting the Imperial Court's investigation were the plentiful cases of wells drying down in the Center area during the past few years. The Center Mountain had always been blessed with plentiful water, however, with a multitude of waterfalls sprouting directly from its surface. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that the Residences of the Center’s many noble families had been built as if stitching them together, speckled in whatever space the waterfalls left.

Both Chihaya and Shigemaru had confusion written all over their faces. After all, why was it such a big deal if the water levels went down a bit?

“It’s normal if you can't figure out what this means with only a graph. But, try to remember,” Akeru told them solemnly. “Have you forgotten what route the Monkeys used to invade us four years ago? A dried up well.”

Tension rose among the group the moment the Monkeys came up in conversation.

“...... So this talk concerns the Monkeys?” Shigemaru asked in a quiet voice.

“Indeed it does. And it's an urgent matter,” Akeru replied. “Ever since the Monkeys’ first invasion four years ago, the Imperial Court has been examining all the wells and caves in the Center.”

Ultimately, they didn't find any other potential invasion route besides the initial dried up well—or so said the official report. “But, in reality, there are more passages than the one the Imperial Court has under its control.”

“What!?” Shigemaru yelled out of sheer shock.

Yukiya, taking Akeru's role in the conversation, explained, “No need to worry. The other known passage is already sealed and there should be people keeping proper watch over it too.”

After taking in Yukiya’s behavior, Shigemaru blinked in surprise. “I see, so you already knew about the place.”

“I do know about it, yes. After all, I was the one who personally confirmed its existence in the first place. I went through it with my own feet and even saw the Monkeys there with my own eyes,” Yukiya confessed, his tone as if he hadn’t said anything special.

“Just what kind of crazy life are you leading……” Shigemaru muttered with exasperation.

“Back to the topic. What’s the relationship between the Monkeys and the water?” Chihaya, fed up with waiting for answers, asked.

In response, Akeru looked directly at Yukiya. “Then, let's ask Yukiya as he knows these passages from firsthand experience. Is there anything in common between the well the Monkeys used as an entrance and the passage you went through?”

Like a trainee replying to the Instructor's questions in theory class, Yukiya gave Akeru a quick answer. “One could say that, geographically speaking, both were either holes or underground pathways excavated to lead deep under Center Mountain.”

“Then, this is a question for you, who has actually traversed such an underground pathway. What did you have to go through to reach the Monkeys’ territory?”

“What—?” Yukiya was stumped for a second, but it didn’t last long. “...... Water. Now that you mention it, I dove through a mysterious underground lake. Shining water poured on it. The Monkeys were right there after I surfaced.”

“That's it!”

The invasion route that the Imperial Court sealed was a hole opened on the well's very walls. It had once been filled with water, which meant there was no way for the Monkeys to come in from there. So, if one were to assume the Monkeys invaded thanks to the well drying up, and that this was due to the water levels on Center Mountain going down— “Then we could conclude that what separates us from the Monkeys’ den is actually the water itself. Or so His Highness Wakamiya thinks.”

After investigating the matter on Wakamiya's orders, it became clear that—though not without its ups and downs—the overall tendency for the water quantities flowing from the Center Mountain to Yamauchi’s different regions had been solidly downwards. “To top it all off, we got a report saying that the water coming out through the Center's waterfalls had suddenly gone down these last two or three days.”

“These last two or three days……?” Shigemaru murmured weakly. Although Yukiya and Chihaya didn't say anything, the look in their eyes had clearly gotten sharper.

“If it's all groundless concerns, that’s great, but His Highness has been saying he has ‘a bad feeling about it’ nonstop ever since.”

Yukiya groaned the second he heard that. “Now that sucks. The True Golden Raven's instinct is virtually no different from a prophecy. If His Highness Wakamiya is actually saying that, something is going to happen in the near future for sure.”

“We have eyes on any suspicious spots that were found during last time's investigation. The Yamauchi Guard is on the move already, but the area to cover is way too wide. Especially because, if the worst comes to pass, they could end up in a skirmish against the Monkeys.” In short, they were sorely and utterly lacking in manpower. “That’s why His Highness Wakamiya orders you to join the search as soon as the Trial is over.”

“Understood, so I will,” Yukiya said as he straightened his back. “Tell His Highness that I’ll be joining them as soon as I’ve taken care of things here. The Trial of Storm will be all over after tomorrow's match.”

“Got it.”

“My Trial of Storm is all finished, though,” Shigemaru energetically leaned forwards. “I may not be an official Yamauchi Guard yet, but could I still help out?”

“I'll go too.”

Akeru nodded in approval at Shigemaru and Chihaya's requests. “I'm sure His Highness Wakamiya will be glad to hear you say that.”

Yukiya, meanwhile, watched the three of them, all ready to leave that very moment, with a downturned mouth. “Honestly…? I would rather go with you all right now.”

“But you can't,” Akeru flat-out refused to hear Yukiya's complaints on the matter. “Even if we assume a disaster of some kind is going to happen, we can't tell when that will be. It could be tomorrow, in ten days or even a whole month from now. To have you fail out because of this would be completely laughable. Let me give you a message: ‘Yukiya, don’t panic, and come with us only after you've actually finished everything you have pending. We'll talk after that—’ Word for word. It comes not from His Highness, but his wife.”

“Eh—” Yukiya blinked in surprise. “Sakura no Kimi told you that?”

“That she did, and His Highness too. When he heard her say that, he went ‘well, Yukiya is probably well aware of that without anyone's intervention, but tell him I'm of the same opinion just in case’.”

Yukiya bitterly held his head in his hands. “...... Then, please tell not only His Highness but Sakura no Kimi as well that I said ‘understood’. I'll go with them after the Trial of Storm without fail.”

“Got it. And you better not go and screw it all up at the very last moment and lose.”

Yukiya's lips curved into a sly grin. 

“Who the hell do you think you're talking to?”

⊛　　　　　⊛　　　　　 ⊛

Akeru and the others left. The tent fell into silence and Yukiya sighed. “Well, then.”

The topographical map he had been checking represented the entirety of the surrounding terrain. He had already finished a preliminary inspection when the sun was still high in the sky—the terrain was quite craggy and there was a tunnel one could use as a shortcut if so desired. If he attempted to win in a reliable and steady manner, tomorrow's battle could turn out to be quite complex.

Of course, he wasn't concerned with losing at all, no matter how complicated the battlefield got. He had trained at this field many times before and his opponent was one of his fellow Evergreens—he knew him quite well after three whole years spent together.

What worried him wasn't victory, but rather the time spent on the test itself.

There were Seeds unaccustomed to mock battles taking part this time, so he wanted to avoid any overly intricate strategies and, after hearing what Akeru had to say, the only thing he wanted was to be done as soon as possible so he could join Wakamiya and the rest in the search. He had intended to win in a conventional manner, but it seemed like it was time to change plans post-haste.

“Evergreen Yukiya, I brought you dinner.”

“Come in.”

“Sorry to intrude,” Haruma said politely before coming in, leaving a four-legged tray with food on it in front of Yukiya. Haruma had grilled some mochi with miso sauce he had brought from the kitchen, from the looks of it. It smelled wonderful. “So, everyone has gone back.”

“Yes, I'm sorry. After you went through all that trouble to make this for everyone.”

“Don't worry. I'll bring the leftovers with me and share it with the other Seeds.” Haruma had done him the favor of preparing dinner for him, Shigemaru and the others at a spot somewhat away from the tent. He truly was a well put together junior—he was so casually considerate. Always careful to not be a bother to him.

“Ah, about tomorrow. I'm thinking of giving you command over a detached force.”

Taken by surprise, Haruma straightened his pose. “Me? Is that truly alright? That's usually a role for a Sapling to……”

“I'll carefully consider the members. There shouldn’t be many complaints if we gather people well acquainted with your talent. I'll leave the decision-making on the field to you,” Yukiya said.

Haruma's expression remained solemn, but his eyes sparkled. “That's such an honor! If I can be of help to you, Evergreen Yukiya, I'll do everything I can!”

“Good. Go rest now then.”

“I will! See you tomorrow.”

Yukiya watched Haruma go with light steps, a smile creeping on his lips.

Haruma himself didn’t seem to realize it, but, to tell the truth, Yukiya had felt suspicious about him when they first met. As a Sapling, the two juniors he had shared a room with had been a terribly insolent pair. They were all obedient now, but that was only because Yukiya had hammered the hierarchy between them physically in their very bones. 

On top of that, he was very much aware of the fact that he had been an even more insolent junior himself. Yukiya had been under the conviction that an obedient and meek junior just didn’t exist anywhere in this world.

Which was why Haruma's subservient behavior right out of the gate drove Yukiya to believe he had to be scheming something—what, he didn't know—against him. It took him quite a while to realize that Haruma seemed to be, by all intents and purposes, genuine in his admiration for him. The shock was enough to make him reflect on his life choices.

Haruma joined Yukiya’s Tactical Research Group every single day without fail and would take care of any menial tasks out of his own volition—Yukiya didn't even have to give him the order. Haruma was so ridiculously considerate, Yukiya's peers had started to poke fun at him over how he ‘worked a poor Seed to the bone’.

Then there was Haruma’s talent. He was absolutely brilliant, as expected of someone recommended to the Monastery due to his brains. His practical skills were somewhat concerning, but his skill in Strategy was beyond question. Out of all the juniors currently at the Monastery, he was the one that understood Yukiya's thought process best, hands down.

As time went by, his feelings about Haruma had grown closer to what he felt for his little brother back in the Northern Region than just another simple junior. The boy's future performance wasn’t just somebody else's business to him, he actually looked forward to seeing him grow. 

But that wasn’t the matter he should be pondering at the moment—he had a task in front of him to complete.

Under normal circumstances, this would be the time to pull an all-nighter and perfect his strategy, but he was already set on a course of action. He felt sorry for his opponent, but he fully planned to settle things fast the next day. That decided, Yukiya went to sleep early that night.

The next morning, Yukiya woke with the sunrise and immediately took bird form, flying around as he studied the training field from above. The weather was nice that day, no wind worth mentioning. He didn't see anything in particular that could potentially hamper his plan.

With that finished, he returned to the tent where he had spent the night. By that point, the juniors assigned to become part of Yukiya's forces during the test had already begun to gather.

Haruma was in front of them all, waiting eagerly for him. “Good morning! How were the skies?”

“The wind is gentle with no clouds in sight. The best weather conditions for a match.”

“That's good to hear.”

Yukiya took human form as he answered, quickly retying his Ornamented Blade in the process. “I'll be relying on you today.”

“Leave it to me.”

They all lined up in the plaza where the tent was. A while later, the Instructors that would act as lookouts arrived from the Unbending Reed Monastery. White banners were raised across the camp, and the trainees too tied white straps on themselves.

Yukiya’s men totaled to thirty and their only available weapons were bamboo swords and whistling arrows. The goal of the test was to steal the enemy General’s Banner. Those who had their strap stolen by the enemy or who the lookouts judged to have suffered fatal injuries were to abandon the field immediately. They had until midday the following day.

They were waiting in line for the match to start when finally the sound of drums came from afar.

——Yukiya’s last test at the Monastery had begun.

That very second, Yukiya started to give instructions to his forces. “Haruma, take your three men and leave immediately towards the enemy’s side through the nearby tunnel.”

“Yes!”

“Now, everyone else. We’ll leave one person behind to protect the General’s Banner and then march all together towards the enemy’s camp.”

After the instructions, the juniors looked at Yukiya with complete disbelief. His assigned lieutenant, a Sapling, even let out a surprised gasp before asking him in a high-pitched tone, “But—what about scouts? And why leave only one person to take care of the General’s Banner—”

“One will be enough. This is a swift attack, our true enemy is actually time.”

In these field practices, the key to victory truly lay in who managed to pressure the opponent’s forces into dispersing. If Yukiya considered his rival’s records up until that moment, his chosen strategy would surely be what they called the ‘badger’. It used a minimal amount of scouts, assigning all remaining forces to defend the General’s Banner instead.

There was also the fact that his opponent had faced defeat at Yukiya’s hands way too many times and had gotten very cautious around him. That surely meant that, at the very start of the encounter, he would send out a lot more scouts than his usual.

“I would assume he’ll send seven scouts at the least. He'll also be worried about the tunnel and send people to guard it, so the number of people away from camp could easily increase by another four or five. Even if some of them realize what we’re trying to do and return to camp, that still means about two or three people less to fight. If my calculations are correct, we’ll be facing only around twenty men once we actually arrive there.”

If the enemy planned to go on the defensive anyway, then the best chance to attack was now, when he didn’t have any information on Yukiya’s forces yet and hadn’t fully solidified his formation.

“Depending on the circumstances, we may even be able to start the battle without their scouts ever returning,” Yukiya declared as he jumped on the back of one of his juniors, shifted already into a horse. 

The Sapling turned lieutenant smiled ever so subtly. “And… that’s why you think only one man is enough to defend our Banner…?”

Their loss condition relied on one of the enemy’s scouts coming over to check on them and, having found out about the empty camp, deciding to charge all by himself in the time it took them to launch their all-out attack. However, the prospects were positive. As long as they left someone specialized in archery and with plenty of whistling arrows, Yukiya believed that the trainee should be able to take any enemy scout out without even needing to engage in close combat.

The main source of concern was, then, the tunnel—it would be bad news if the opponent were to use it to send out advanced troops directly to Yukiya’s camp without him noticing. Hence he had sent Haruma there.

“Let’s finish this quickly.”

“Yes!” 

They headed out towards the enemy’s camp at full speed. Upon arrival, and just as Yukiya had expected, there were only nineteen boys with red straps hurrying to and fro at the enemy’s camp. Yukiya saw a few of them shift into bird form in an attempt to fight back—with that, the battle was all but won in his eyes.

“Disperse!”

Following Yukiya’s order, the big group of trainees following him cleanly divided into three platoons. Just as they had agreed beforehand, the two platoons on the sides approached the enemy’s camp as they dodged any arrows coming from above. Some of them were intercepted by the opposite side’s bird-shaped men, ending up in a fight, and others took a clean hit from the whistling arrows, but most managed to survive the charge.

Although the red-strapped soldiers on the ground fought back valiantly, the vast majority of Yukiya’s last platoon proceeded to then charge from above. They weren’t given enough time to even release their second round of arrows.

Yukiya spearheaded the descending group, flying right into the heat of the battle and slashing down four or five of the opponent’s men with his bamboo sword. The attack opened the way for one of the Saplings on his side to make a run for it and take the General’s Banner.

“Taken!” the boy yelled between pants, raising the Banner up high for everyone to see.

One of the Lookout Instructors beat the drum. 

——And with that, the match was over.

“......And I thought that just this last time I could get back at you. What are you? A demon?”

“People often call me that, yes.”

After the match, no commending each other’s big efforts or any emotive scene like that took place. Instead, Sadamori made his forces line up and verified the actual losses on his side while he headed towards Yukiya with a bitter look on his face. 

“Sadamori, for the record, you should have instructed your troops at the start on what they should do when fighting back, whether it is using bows and arrows or transforming into bird shape to go for the melee—one or the other. Otherwise, they can just end up hitting each other. Besides, the Seeds are unused to field drills like this so they’ll just get confused without it, you know.”

“That’s a very fair point, and I thank you for your feedback. But, you see, you attacked before I even had the time to give such instructions! Dammit!” Sadamori bitterly cursed him.

Sadamori had, apparently, seen Yukiya as a rival when they first arrived at the Monastery. Because of that, they hadn’t grown particularly close until they became Evergreens despite both of them being from the North. Sadamori was quite the sore loser but, despite that, he had proven to be quite the good-natured man once Yukiya got to actually talk with him.

“It really annoys me, but this confirms your graduation as the first of the class, right? It was a given, I guess, but still. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. Good job from you as well, finishing the Trial of Storm.”

Once they verified everything, they learned that the ‘dead’ on each side had totaled to three for red and seven for white. Meanwhile, three lost their strap on the red side, two on the white. A victory was a victory, but Yukiya’s side had suffered the bigger losses.

Now that he reflected on it, Yukiya realized how reckless his approach may have been. Then, just as he was considering asking Haruma for his opinion on the matter as well, Yukiya noticed that the members of his detached force hadn’t returned yet—it was taking them too long.

“Hey, did you send someone to the tunnel this time?”

“No? I sent guards to the entrance, but they’re all back by now.”

“Yeah, of course.”

Maybe they hadn’t heard the drum beat from inside the tunnel? Yukiya turned his gaze towards the direction where the tunnel’s exit was. There, he happened to find a dark shadow flying in their direction amid the blue sky.

‘There they are’, Yukiya thought to himself at first, but he soon realized something was amiss. His detached unit was supposed to have four men including Haruma, yet he could only see one shadow approaching them. And the way he flew—as if he were panicking. The shadow got closer, and the odd sound of his desperate caws reached them.

The deja vu was unbearable.

Four years ago. The sight of a Yatagarasu flying through the blue sky between cries. Yet another tragic victim of the circumstances, and then what befell Yukiya’s homeland right after—

The Yatagarasu reached them, transforming back into human form as he fell to the ground in front of the other juniors, who had been busy cleaning up the camp. Yukiya pushed away the surrounding crowd and dashed towards him, all to reach the boy before anyone else.

“Koroku?”

He turned out to be one of the Saplings in his detached force. His expression was completely unlike anything he wore when he left camp—it was one of pure, dark terror.

“Evergreen Yukiya……”

“Yes!? Tell me, what happened?”

“The Monkeys appeared.”

For a second, it was as if the world around Yukiya had gone silent.

The next, rising tension made his five senses all the sharper. His heart beat so loudly against his chest that he could almost hear it thumping in his head.

Yukiya asked in a roar, “How many!?”

“I only saw one. It came from behind us all of a sudden and—I wanted to help fight, but we didn’t have anything worth calling a weapon……”

“Then? What about the rest?”

“I don’t know! I just thought I had to at least warn everyone—What should I do? I… I left Haruma, Teppei and Akitoki behind!” Koroku shrieked, having just realized what he had done. 

Yukiya left him to it and instead turned towards the petrified trainees behind him. “Bring the Lookout Instructors here right now! And go contact the nearest Guard Station! Tell them to bring every single one of their soldiers and weapons here to block the northern tunnel!”

Following Yukiya’s incisive orders, a few of the trainees sprinted away in a way that resembled headless chickens. With that done, Yukiya returned his gaze to Koroku and quickly spoke, “To leave and warn everyone because you had no weapons was the correct choice. You must precisely tell the Instructors everything that happened when they arrive here. It’ll help us save our companions, got it?”

Koroku nodded as he shook uncontrollably. Having seen that, Yukiya stood up. “I’ll go to the nearest entrance. Sadamori, go to the opposite one and stand guard there until the reinforcements arrive. Don’t go down until we get those weapons.”

“Understood,” Sadamori immediately responded to Yukiya’s orders, a strained look on his face.

“All remaining Saplings, divide into two groups and follow us!”

Yukiya transformed into bird shape and left for the tunnel as fast as he could. A short trip later, they found the entrance. There, a transformed boy struggled as he tried to take off while another, sunken on the ground, looked into the dark depths of the cavern. Once Yukiya confirmed that there were no Monkeys around, he landed as he returned to human form.

“Teppei, Akitoki! Are you alright!?”

The one in bird form cawed without transforming, clearly maddened by the experience. The other one—Akitoki—was still motionless, but he whispered his name in a daze, “Evergreen Yukiya……”

“What’s wrong? Where’s Haruma?”

“Haruma—The Monkey took Haruma with it.”

——It… took Haruma?

Yukiya froze in place. Instantly, Akitoki’s face twisted horribly. “If only he hadn’t protected us! We tried to recover him, but that guy was too strong, it shook me off and my shoulder—”

That was when Yukiya noticed it—Akitoki’s arm was bent in an odd direction, his forehead drenched in cold sweat. All choked up, Yukiya forced himself to nod his head, “I know. This isn’t your fault.”

——The Monkeys had… taken Haruma.

“Evergreen Yukiya, we should go!” The Saplings following him yelled as they caught up to him.

“We can��t!” Yukiya answered. “With no weapons, we are just as powerless as they were to fight them.”

“Are you telling us to give up then!? Haruma may end up dead while we’re standing here!”

“But we can’t die in vain here,” Yukiya insisted resolutely. He heard the sound of breath catching sharply in the Sapling’s throat, but the boy didn’t press the matter any further.

In the end, they managed to send away Teppei, who had hurt his wing, and have Yukiya fix Akitoki’s dislocated shoulder by the time the soldiers arrived with the weapons. Akitoki remained conscious, although pale as a sheet, so ultimately Yukiya and the soldiers brought him with them as they finally went inside the cave.

“This is where we were assaulted.” The spot Akitoki pointed out connected to a subterranean stream, the only part of the tunnel to do so. It was off to the side in a slightly open corner—there, if you climbed down a bit from the more-or-less maintained path, was running water. The current made a soft rumble as it went.

Yukiya had gone down there during the preliminary inspection the day before. Bitterest regret filled him—why didn’t he even consider this possibility? 

The Center. Flowing water.

It was such a perfect match for an entry route! They had discussed what the Monkeys’ infiltration conditions were just yesterday.

Yukiya then went down into the stream itself, looking in the direction the water came from. It was a dark cavern, no light whatsoever came from it. Yet there was no mistake, it had to connect to the Monkeys’ territory. He wanted nothing more than to go right after them and save Haruma, but— Yukiya bit his lips.

“Evergreen Yukiya,” someone on the path, where everyone else was waiting, called for him at that moment.

“Yes?”

“Look at this!”

Yukiya ran up to find something fallen in the middle of the road, illuminated by the torches’ light. It was a letter, no matter how one looked at it. The yellowish paper’s quality was atrocious, but he could see the letters written on it with what could be assumed to be ink. It was carefully folded. There, on its front, was the addressee’s name.

——‘To the Golden Raven.’

Next: Yukiya (Part 2)

—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---

1: The ‘teen prodigy’ bit is specifically 麒麟児 (kirinji), which technically means “Qilin colt/filly” but it’s indeed used in japanese to mean ‘child prodigy’. I adapted it into ‘teen’ because of how english works vs. japanese.

[sgiandubh]

Alice is blocking people on IG.

Dear Blocking Anon,

I normally could not care less about how she is managing her IG account, but I feel many red lines have been crossed within this entire ahem.. episode.

People claiming to have access to her DMs to fans and no qualms discussing them at length. Unethical, anyone? Bizarre? I have many thoughts and questions, but I will focus instead on what I think could be a plausible explanation for this Cosmic Mess, version 2.0.

We now know he contacted her in DM and followed her IG account on June 13 2024. One more time, I hate to quote myself, but since I posted a LOT (never again, for the sake of this shitshow), may I remind you this tiny detail, perhaps you missed it:

In fact, I should send you back to the big wrap-up post about yesterday's shenanigans, where I theorize the sock account is a well-known troll of this fandom. Who did it before and will do it again.

Also, may I remind you this other tiny detail:

Karina Elle is a common contact. It does ring all sorts of bells, Anon, as to the transactional nature of this new rapport.

Last, but not least, a short trip to my own Archive, Anon:

On June 12th, I posted the stills from TS's concert, Anon. It is my logical and constitutional right to believe S's June 13th expedition to that particular DM inbox was a knee jerk reaction to that. Especially when some bitches took pains to immediately post this on IG, tagging everybody:

What did I reveal, Anon? Something I believe to have been organic couple behavior, in a VIP tent, at a public event (concert), in the darkness.

What was the rebuke, Anon? Something I believe to have been a totally lame and transactional choreography, in a VIP tent, at a public event (tennis tournament), in broad daylight.

It is impossible not to notice the symmetry, here.

So, he 'slid into her DMs', she got all excited, talked to those fans, told them she was invited to LHR by him and then she apparently inexplicably went ballistic and 'hurtful' to them, further down those DMs timeline. Timeline which, according to Marple, is 20 to 26 June. The only reason for that sudden change of behavior would be a conversation with S, who probably thought those fans were shippers. He should know by now NO SHIPPER ever harassed the entourage as consistently and intensely as the Best of Fans did. I think mistakes were made on our side too, but not recently and not by me or anyone I know of. Evidence is the fans who were 'hurt' went to complain to Marple, not me or Bat or anyone else in here, for that matter.

Something happened between June 20 and 26, transforming those two individuals' IG interaction from banter to contract. A trip to London, all expenses paid. Detailed indications on what to wear (YELLOW!) and how to behave. Illogical bursts of affection from her, while he looked disconnected for most of the time, or at least most of the time we were privy to.

Organic, my foot, Anon. And now she's blocking people, you tell me?

She is such a sweet summer child and if this will end well, I am Ingrid Bergman, Anon.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Nüwa, Fuxi, and their Harbingers

Addition to this previous Au/theory about MK's connection to Nüwa and her mate Fuxi.

The Harbinger of Chaos was fated to herald the time when Nüwa's repairs on the Fifth Heavenly Pillar weakened - thusly ending the world.

Nüwa tried for a long long time to prevent the Pillar from weakening - suffering through an innumerable number of Cycles failing at every route.

At the end of each Cycle, a divine chaotic soul needed to willingly offer itself to the Pillar to repair it - a role usually fulfilled by a certain Monkey King or newly hatched soul. But it wasn't a perfect fix. It still lead to the world repeating back to when Nüwa was about to seal herself inside the Pillar to strengthen it.

Until the Cycle just before canon - when Nüwa's mate Fuxi discovered what exactly her Herald was. An unborn child. Furious at his wife for sacrificing even a single innocent soul to the Pillar, Fuxi pushed the intended sacrifice aside and walked into the Pillar himself.

Nüwa sat within the Pillar despairing at her mate's action. She became colder in those centuries, believing that now even her own beloved had rejected her.

But...

For the first time in all the cycles; Fuxi retained memory of the previous timeline.

He immediately makes towards Flower Fruit Mountain, where he knows a Stone Monkey is to be born into a lonely world.

Little Shihou always thought "Elder Shitougushi" was an odd fellow. He was a lot bigger than all the other monkeys, and super old. The elderly teacher rearing the orphaned monkey as his own the moment his tiny yellow limbs broke through his stone shell.

The Elder watched as Shihou became the Matriarch/King of the troop when he was still but a lad. Proudly watching over the troop as they were protected from danger inside the Stone Palace.

But the old monkey knew that he forces of the Underworld would be seeking him out. He was not meant to live as long as he had - only through eating a special fruit his mate had snuck him many eons ago as a sign of friendship.

So before he forced himself into a spiritual hibernation; The Elder told his Little Stone Monkey exactly what he truly was.

With what his mentor and parental figure taught him; Shihou embarked on a Journey to learn. Learn more about the big wide beautiful and terrifying Universe and what it had to offer odd stone-born monkeys like him.

As Fuxi rested in suspension, he dreamt of how much his wife would love the boy. He's not entirely sure if his guidance would change anything this time around, but he knew his Sun wouldn't let this world die quietly.

But he certainly did not anticipate his choices to indirectly cause the Harbinger to be born so early!

Xiangliu has seen many lifetimes, and seeing a version of Wukong who was so... burdened told him that something had changed in the formula. So he awoke the Harbinger as early as he could. Perhaps this new deviance is what he needed to be let back into the Chaos.

Nüwa always expects to see one of her creations at the end of the Cycle. But she had to stop herself from sobbing with frustration and joy at seeing the tiny little primate with her husband's wild chestnut hair before her.

And she chokes up knowing her elder creation had nearly beaten her younger in order to sacrifice himself in the boy's stead.

When MK refuses to let the world be reset back to factory settings, and with his power split the burden of the five coloured stones between all beings in the Three Realms; Nüwa can only smile nostalgically.

Her sons are more like their father than they ever knew.

[lyracarvahall]

HeartBeat Sync Part 33

Homeward Bound

The next couple of hours were spent moving all the luggage to the cars, driving to the airport through traffic, and loading the bags back onto the plane. Y/N was getting used to the hustle and bustle of travel, but the cameras...not quite there yet.

After spending the flight snuggled with Hongjoong and them both squeezing in a nap, they made their way out of the security gate to the awaiting vehicles. It was a short path, but one full of press. It was surprising considering this wasn't part of their official schedule.

She blended into the crowd along with the staff, attempting not to draw too much attention to herself. Hands in pockets and wearing her plum leather jacket again to cover what marks she could.

Everyone wore masks, which served to not only conceal identities and keep the team safe, but also covered her wide smiles as the members sent loving support through the bond as they made their way through the paparazzi. A few of the cameras got a little too close to her face, which lead to Hat Guy moving her forwards to be escorted in a protective procession with Mingi and Yunho in front and Jongho and San behind her. No moves were made to touch her but their stances told everyone to back off.

Once they finally made it to the driver, she gave them the coordinates to her home and nestled in the front row of seats between Yeosang and Wooyoung. Yeosang pulled her close and kissed her hair once they were far enough away to remove their masks.

"I am so glad you are safe darling." Y/N could feel his strong arm flinch a little. "We need to keep you safe." He lifted her chin with his other hand and kissed her passionately. The other members looked on in shock as Yeosang wasn't usually one for public affection.

"I'm okay, Yeosang. I just need to be more careful next time I guess. I didn't mean to scare you." She looked into his eyes and saw concern and love very evidently written across them. She planted one more delicate kiss across his lips and placed her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Not your fault darling." He stroked her hair delicately and rubbed her back.

Once they arrived at her home, about an hour drive from the airport, she suddenly grew nervous for them to see where she lived. She knew they loved her but also knew they were used to luxury and tidiness while her place was...cluttered and older. It was her grandmother's house she had inherited when she had died and she loved it. So many memories took place here. This was basically her childhood home, so if they disapproved it would really hurt.

Wooyoung held her hand and helped her out of the van, caressing her fingers with his thumb. "You ready, sexy?" He shot her a wink and interwove their fingers.

Y/N nodded and looked around to see her eight men standing on her humble street. They definitely stood out with their expensive clothes. Before them was her single-story brick home. It stood on the corner of three streets with a nicely sized yard. Wooyoung guided her to the front door. Pulling the keys out of her purse, she placed them in the lock for the first time in over a week. How much had changed since then.

Once she opened the door, she smelled home. Placing her purse on the front entry table out of habit, she soaked in the familiarity and calm her home provided. The guys walked in and looked around.

"I love this home. There is a lot of you here." San said with a smile as he made his way to the living room sofa and looked at a framed photo on the side table. It was a photo of a teen version of herself with her grandmother. It was taken a few years before her grandmother died while they posed in the bluebonnets together. It was a yearly tradition she always had indulged in.

"That is my grandmother. This was her house. I know it isn't much, but this is home to me." Just then Seonghwa placed a peck on her cheek. "It is perfect. Just like you."

She blushed as he placed a few tiny kisses on her neck. A knock came from the front door. Not expecting anyone, she went to the door to open in and found Lexi standing there with a shopping bag in her hand with Liam standing behind her juggling a pack of moving boxes with his long arms. Lexi wore a wide grin and wrapped her bestie up in a warm embrace Y/N realized she had missed so much. She may have a lot of soulmates, but there was only one bestie. Her chocolate skin smelled like the almond lotion she always used.

"Lexi oh my god! How did you know I would be home? I hadn't gotten the chance to text you yet..."

"Your boys tattled on you. Figured it would be nice to have additional sets of hands I guess." Lexi eyed Jongho and Y/N realized he must have been the one to reach out. She gave him a look of gratitude. Lexi went on, "So what's the plan? What are we packing? What is staying? Are you selling?"

"I honestly don't know yet. Just taking the essentials for now. Keeping the house for sentiment....wait...Lexi...Do YOU want the house?" Lexi looked shocked. "Girl, this was your nana's house. I could never...."

"Lexi, you ARE my family. Gram loved you too. You are more of a sister to me than my actual sister EVER was. I would be HAPPY to have you take care of this place. You are the only one I would trust to do it." Lexi began to shed tears and wrapped her arms around her friend once again.

"Girl, you know I've got you...always. Now where do you want to start packing?" Y/N giggled at how Lexi was always ready to get down to business.

"Start with the bedroom I guess? Most of the essentials are there."

San took the boxes out of Liam's hands. "Which way baby?" She motioned to her master bedroom at the end of the hall and him and Yunho juggled the supplies and made their way there. Lexi followed, leaving Liam standing there awkwardly. Y/N skickered at how he looked confused at how to proceed.

"Liam! Can you bring me the bag with the sharpies please? I left it on the counter." Lexi shouted from the bedroom. Liam looked blissfully content to follow her command, grabbing the bag and making his way to the bedroom as well.

Wooyoung made himself at home and started making lunch for the group in her small kitchen. Yeosang was looking at the framed pictures on the wall with Seonghwa.

"Hey baby...is there things you want from anywhere else?" Mingi scratched her scalp and she melted into his touch.

"Um...I guess in terms of essentials, the studio and my bathroom?"Mingi nodded and took a couple of boxes to the bathroom with Jongho. Hongjoong made his way with a couple more boxes to the studio with a grin on his face. She was sure he was eager to see her little set-up.

Y/N followed Hongjoong into the studio and was embarrassed with her self-constructed studio. She had done the booth and soundproofing all on her own. It was her passion project and though it didn't look like much. she was proud of it.

"Honey, you did all of this yourself?" Honjoong looked around with wonder.

"Yeah. Gram let me go wild in here. Though she couldn't hear the music, she appreciated and supported my passion. She said the vibrations felt like what my heartbeat would sound like. Passionate and wild. God I miss her." Y/N wiped a couple of stray tears at the memory of nights her Gram would sit on the sofa barefoot and tap along to the beat in the studio.

"She sounds like a wonderful person, firebird. I wish I could have met the woman who made you into the wonder that you are." He wiped her tears and kissed her.

Suddenly there was a banging on the front door.

-----------------------------------------------------

Who is there? Find out in the next chapter.

(Apologies this is so short.)

Taglist: @vtyb23 @yeosangsluthousewife @addi-3 @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @tyungelic @psychosupernatural @mygsis