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theangstyboiblog · 3 years

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Shower Time - Saul Silva x Reader Smut

@kingunder221b Hey! Could I request a Saul Silva x reader, smut, scenario: a fight, maybe Saul is jealous over something, arguing and then obvs make up smut and some fluff in the end. You rock!

Ahhhh I love this and while I’m not super into writing jealous characters, I know it happens. I tried to put that in but gah it was hard and I was scared I was making Saul petty. So, we ended up with this. Also somehow this went super angsty in the middle and it took everything in me to pull it back to fluff at the end. <3

Pairing: Saul Silva x Reader

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: smut most definitely happens, I was inspired <3 Some language.

Quick Summary: Saul and Y/N have been dating since they attended Alfea. Now they are on different specialist teams at the Battalion in Solaria. When Saul hears Y/N’s team is transferring to Eraklyon, questions start to hound him.

Saul POV

Saul tried not to think about it. He tried to look happy for you, tried to be supportive. He knew, when you’d been assigned to differing teams, that at some point one of you would have to leave. But he had always thought that he would be the one leaving and that thought had been easier to bear.

Leaving was so much easier than staying. He wasn’t ready to be the one left behind.

One year seemed like an endless eternal road that had no end, that just kept moving forward while his feet seemed to sink into the dirt. His stomach churned. One year. You’d be away for a year and if the burned one attacks worsened, maybe even longer.

Heaving a sigh, he glanced up at the stars and turned back around to lean against the trunk of the tree, peering down the hill at the bonfire. Whoops and hollers and music filled the air as the battalion celebrated your team’s last night in Solaria before you shipped out tomorrow at noon. He bit the inside of his cheek as a familiar figure broke away from the crowd and climbed up the hill towards him. Each step you took closer to him, sent a spiral of questions through his head.

What if something happens?

What if you don’t come back?

What if I never see you again?

What if you forget me? What if I forget you?

That last question had him shaking his head. There was no way in hell he’d ever forget you, move on without you, love anyone else. But the distance. The distance presented an immeasurable strain that weighed on his shoulders every second. A wave of anger he didn’t know what to do with hit him and he narrowed his eyes as you came nearer. He knew he wasn’t mad at you but the anger needed to go somewhere and he didn’t trust himself to not aim it at you. That was why he was up the hill and not down partying with everyone else.

Lifting his cup, he took a quick sip of beer and shook his head with aggravation. God knows he loved a good party.

Your POV

“Hey,” you said softly, drawing closer to the tree at the top of the hill, the light of the moon helping you make out just the slight shadow of a man, the glint of eyes peering over at you. Your voice almost breathless from the dancing and the laughing. “What’re you doing up here?”

“Thinking,” Saul’s reply came, low and gravelly as if he’d spent the day shouting, which if you remembered your afternoon sparring drills correctly, he had.

You smirked. “Well, that’s never a good sign.” He didn’t say anything and you could practically hear the gears working overtime inside that head of his. Slipping your hands in your pockets, you sighed and moved closer, the shadows of the branched blocking out what little light came from the sky. “What are you thinking?” You asked softly, leaning against the tree and peering up at him. He didn’t look at you and you didn’t touch him, even though keeping your hands to yourself was killing you.

“You,” he said finally, as he looked up at the stars.

“Aww,” you sang, “it’s like you know just what to say, Saul.”

He cut his eyes at you. “Not really. What I want to say is…” he trailed off and turned back to the sky. You waited. You gave him time. You could hear the seconds ticking by. You leaned to the side, trying to catch his gaze again.

“What you want to say is…?” you prompted.

Saul’s head turned and he looked down at you with a pain in his eyes that you rarely ever saw. It was a lonely sort of pain usually reserved for late nights. For when a friend died, for when he spoke about his family. Glimpses of it had escaped him before but nothing like this. This somber gaze didn’t have a mask, it wasn’t trying to hide itself.

He turned away. “You should head back to the party,” he said nodding as a fountain of sparks erupted from the bonfire below, one of the fire fairies having a little too much fun.

Your mouth dropped open. “What the fuck?” You pushed off the tree as he sighed.

“Y/N…”

“No, you are not doing this on my last night here. You’re not shutting me out just to avoid handling your feelings and talk to me like the grown ass man you are.”

Saul rounded on you. “I don’t want to argue with you,” he said, pointing down the hill. “This is why I’m up here and not down there.”

“Hiding,” you nodded your head, “you’re up here hiding because you’re scared—”

“I am scared!” he said, stepping towards you, voice raised. You stepped back as he continued. “You’re leaving and all I can think of is that this might be the last time I see you and I feel like I can’t breathe. And everyone else is celebrating it but I can’t, Y/N. Every scenario has gone through my head since your orders came through and every bad thought, every bad thing that could possibly happen— I’ve thought about it and it terrifies me.” Saul took a deep breath as you cupped his cheek, tears pricking at your eyes as his hands settled on your waist. He pulled you to him and you pressed your face into the corner of his neck. His lips pressed against your temple as his voice cracked. “I don’t want to be alone again,” he whispered.

The dam burst and your tears fell as you held onto him tighter shaking your head. You leaned back.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen,” you told him catching his face between your hands as he shook his head. “But you don’t know what’s going to happen either,” he leaned against you, hands shaking as they moved to press into your back. “I will fight like hell to come back to you though and I expect you to be here when I do.”

Saul blinked and stared into your eyes as you held your own steady gaze. Unspoken words passed between you.

“I’ll be here,” he murmured finally.

“All in one piece,” you told him, as the thought struck you that if you didn’t say it, you’d most likely come back to half a Saul.

“All in one piece, or as close to it as possible,” he said, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Reaching down, you pulled his hand away from your body, your fingers sliding perfectly to lock with his. You stepped back leading him after you, guiding him away from the bonfire and back towards the main camp. He narrowed his eyes.

“Y/N?” he called your name, lilting that last syllable teasingly.

You shrugged, picking up the pace. “If everyone is here, then that means we might actually have a chance for once,” you told him. Turning around you tugged on his hand and quietly made your way back to base.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steam had long since filled the room as you bathed and readied yourself, eyes casually glancing towards the door to the baths. You ground your teeth in annoyance, feeling as if you’d been in the showers forever, long since cleaned and wound tightly on an edge you had to force yourself to cling to. You almost wondered if he had gotten lost somewhere.

If he doesn’t hurry up, I swear to god.

Almost as if he had known what you were thinking, the door to the baths opened and Saul slipped inside, looking over his shoulder as if he’d been chased.

“What took you so long?” you hissed, and he spun around a blush creeping over his cheeks as he peered through the steam, finally laying eyes on you in the stall at the end of the row.

“Sneaking into the women’s shower room is harder than it sounds,” he murmured, glancing at the door behind him. You rolled your eyes as he peeled off his jacket, followed by his shirt.

“It can’t be that hard. I hear Andreas does it regularly.”

Saul tossed his shirt onto the bench and turned to you, eyebrows inching up ever higher. “What?” he asked, his voice half surprised and maybe a quarter impressed and another quarter disturbed.

“Did you get one?” You asked, ignoring the question as you peered over the half wall of the shower stall. Saul reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a little square package with a smirk. You stepped back, water rushing down on your shoulders. “Hurry up then,” you told him as you turned around, pushing your hair back as the water washed over your face soothingly. The thud of boots echoed on the tile and you smiled leaning back out of the water, taking a deep breath. The door to your stall squeaked open and you glanced over your shoulder as cool hands ran over the skin of your waist.

“Did you get started without me?” Saul asked, lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. His left hand dropped lower and lower before rejoining his other hand, hugging you to him. You chuckled.

“Maybe?” you teased. “You were gone for a long time.”

“Naughty,” he mumbled lowly. His arms tightened around you as he leaned down and ran his lips down your neck and across the back of your shoulder. You pursed your lips trying to hide your smile as he ran a hand over your flesh a warm pressure tightening around you whenever he gripped just the right spot. Shaking your head, you twisted in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck.

“You,” you leaned forward and mouthed at his collarbone, teeth faintly scraping over the skin as he took in a quick breath, “are just mad that you didn’t get to watch.” You ran your hand over his stomach, smirking at the tensing muscles as you moved lower. You raised an eyebrow as you took him in your hand. “But you’re here now,” you rose on your tiptoes, pressing your lips to his lightly at first.

Saul’s hand drifted down, palming the cheek of your ass as the kiss deepened and you moved your hand around him, squeezing just enough to make him break out in a gasp against you. You smiled as his hands tangled in your hair and he pulled you back in for another kiss, his tongue lightly teasing yours. Together, you stayed like that, your back against the wall, him trapping you against it, warm water rushing over the both of you adding to the already building heat. Your hand stayed on his cock as his knee slipped between your thighs, one hand moving between you until you felt him pressing into you.

“Saul…” you moaned his name as he ground into your palm, the feel of his fingers sending a shock of pleasure up the ladder of your spine.

“You really did start without me,” he murmured nipping at your skin. A flash of heat had you burying your face in his neck, releasing him to wrap your arms round his shoulders. “You ready?” he asked, crooking his fingers.

You ground down and groaned. “Just hurry up,” you breathed, pushing at his chest.

Saul’s shoulders shook as his hands left you empty, a soft whine leaving you as he stepped back, turning on his heel. Cocking your head, you watched as he stepped out of the stall and went to the bench, bending down to pick something up. He tossed the empty wrapper on the bench and looked down working the condom over his length. Turning around you pulled your hair over one shoulder and faced the wall, closing your eyes, and breathing in nice and deep.

When the door creaked open, you set your hands against the tile wall as he came up behind you. His lips latched on to your skin, tongue laving at the droplets of water that rolled from the nape of your neck and dove down your spine. He pulled you to him, hands guiding your hips back as you spread your legs and leaned against the wall, bracing yourself as he pressed his cock against you. He pushed in.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, closing your eyes as he moved within you, sliding deeper and deeper. You reached to the side, grabbing the top of the side of the stall as your knees bent. His arms snaked around you pulling you back against him as if he wanted there to be as little room between you as possible. He bucked and you reached back, gripping his hip. “Wait, wait, wait,” you breathed as you felt every inch of him throb inside.

A hot shot of air blew over your neck as he groaned. But his hips stilled and you nearly thanked him, but it felt like a vice was wrapped around your lungs.

“Y/N,” he rasped after a moment, “I can’t… fuck.” He bowed down pressing his forehead to your shoulder and you knew he couldn’t wait any longer. Neither could you. Biting your lip, you flexed your hips, rolling against him slowly as the breath was pushed from your lungs. He stiffened before his hands dropped to your hips and he pulled away before thrusting back against you.

Water on tile, skin on skin, breathy whines and drawn-out moans filled the room as you each found your shared rhythm and fell into sync. Harder. Faster. Slow and grinding. Everything. You clawed at the wall as you rose up, arching back against him as your hand moved between your legs.

With a hiss, Saul’s rhythm stuttered without warning as he thrusted again and again, his voice calling out hoarsely as he came grinding against you. Your head dropped forward with a gasp as he settled deep inside. Then an emptiness filled you as he slipped out. You mewled as you turned around to face him, still touching yourself as you leaned against the shower wall. He settled on one side of the stall, chest heaving as he watched you, mouth open, eyes dropping down to watch as you teased your center.

“Saul,” you moaned his name, turning your head to the side as the pleasure condensed into a tight ball in your belly. “Saul, I want to… I need…”

Pushing off the wall he sauntered over to you pressing his hand over yours helping you along as he mouthed his way across your collarbones.

“Come for me, love,” he sighed, “that’s it. Yeah—“

Beyond control your hips moved faster and faster, body shaking as you cried out. Your voice echoed through the room, so loud you were sure that if anyone was in the hallway, they would most definitely hear you. But then your cries died down as Saul kissed you, still working you through your climax. Your chest rose and fell as the high finally died down, your nails prying away from his skin as you broke away, breathless. Saul leaned against you, holding you up as your legs threatened to give out.

“I don’t know how I’m going to survive without you,” he breathed as he kissed you, moving from your mouth to your cheek, finally resting against your temple.

“There’s always phone sex,” you pointed out. Saul’s eyes lifted up as he considered it.

“It’d be a bit awkward, wouldn’t it?” he asked, looking back down at you, the back if his fingers running over your cheek. “Doing it in the commons. Where anyone could hear.”

You clicked your tongue and sighed, running your hands through his wet hair.

“That’s why I told you to get a cell phone, Lieutenant Silva, for the privacy.”

#saul silva #Saul Silva x reader #fate: the winx saga #Saul Silva smut #submission

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beelsjuicytitties · 3 years

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Hunted for Sport

Now to do a complete 180 from my Mammon fic, here is predator/prey Lucifer! this is suuuuuper self indulgent bc i was looking for stuff to read, but nothing was really scratchin the itch yknow? so i wrote this at like 5am

Warnings: NSFW, DUB-CON

Pairing: Lucifer x GN!MC

Words: 2339

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Gender-Neutral Main Character (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Dubious Consent, Implied Consent, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Aftercare, Primal, Predator/Prey, Blood Kink, Blood Drinking, S&M, Injury, Fear Play, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Biting, Kissing, Dark, Rough Sex, Not Beta Read, Sleepy Cuddles, Bubble Bath, Edgeplay, Smut, Possessive Sex

Summary: Please make sure to read the tags before reading! Hunted and fucked in the forest by Lucifer, followed by fluffy aftercare because he has class

Note: Like my last one, this is also on my ao3 which is linked in my bio!

Fear. It was all you could feel as you ran through the forest outside the House of Lamentation. Your chest heaved and your lungs were already starting to burn. ‘How long has it been?’ You managed to think, had it been hours? Or merely minutes? The pain in your ankle pulled you from your thoughts as you crashed to the ground. You curled into yourself as coughs wracked your body, the wind having been knocked out. Your ankle throbbed and you could feel dull stinging from almost every inch of exposed skin, scratches from the foliage marring your skin.

That's when you heard him. His sonorous voice filled your ears as he sang, your brain too foggy to make out the words. The sound grew as his almost casual steps grew closer. ‘Gotta run, gotta escape’ You repeated the thought in your head as you struggled in the underbrush, sucking in a breath as you forced yourself to your feet. You kept moving forward, after all, what else could you do? Give in? No. No matter how nice it might seem to just give in, to surrender and finally be at rest you couldn’t keep yourself from limping on. The pain in your ankle was getting unbearable, aggravated by your desperate attempt at survival. Your vision was getting hazy, and your blood was rushing in your ears, and yet, you could still hear him sing. It was like he was all around you, his voice swirling around and pressing into you.

“Y/n.” Directly behind you. You whip yourself around and hiss, not a good idea as your ankle screams. “Look at you,” Lucifer regarded you, “how pitiful.” Tears were streaming down your face as you backed away slightly. Lucifer matched your movements, keeping the short distance between the two of you the same. You were hyperventilating, your heart was racing, your eyes flicked about quickly, looking for a weakness, a chance to escape, anything. Alas, no such opportunity provided itself, as he quickly closed the gap and grabbed your chin with a gloved hand, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. Hunger, amusement, and arousal swirled in his crimson eyes as he gave you a much too gentle smile. Lucifer leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’re not even worth my effort.” His voice was essentially a growl, low and sharp sounding in your ear. “Why don’t you keep running?”

Before you even had the chance to register his words, you were on the forest floor once again. Lucifer had pushed you there. You stared up at him for what felt like forever, he was standing over you, his hands casually resting in his front pockets. “What are you waiting for? Run.” You snapped back to reality. He was letting you go? That didn’t seem right, but you weren't about to wait around and question it. You once again clambered to your feet and took flight, ducking under branches and barreling through bushes. He had started singing again. How far could you go? How much farther would you need to go? Your mind raced as you free your shirt that had caught on a branch. It didn’t matter, you would keep going, you would make it. ‘Dear god let me make it.’ But no god could hear you.

You realized this as you ran headfirst into Lucifer, he wrapped an arm tightly around your waist and clasped a hand around one of your wrists. He was in his demon form at this point, sharp horns protruding from his hair, soft wings fluttering against his back. His grip was tight, like he was trying to squeeze the life from you just like this. “Tsk tsk little lamb, running right into the waiting arms of the one chasing you? I had expected better.” You struggled weakly, your body beginning to give up. Every muscle in your body was weary, unable to do anything against the demon that hadn’t even broken a sweat. He buried his face in your neck with a deep laugh. “You know you can’t go on, don’t you lamb?” He took a deep breath in, filling his lungs with your scent. “Just give into me.” His breath was somehow cold against your flushed skin, and your knees gave in, causing you to slump in his grip. Another laugh rumbled his chest, this time much more wicked. “Wonderful.”

You suddenly felt a sharp pain in your neck, your tired brain taking a few moments to realize Lucifer had bitten into you. A choked whimper escaped your lips. Blood trickled down from where his mouth still sat, the metallic taste filling his mouth, causing him to let out a moan. It was a shallow bite, not something you could bleed out from. He greedily lapped and sucked at your neck as the bleeding began to slow. His hand released your wrist, opting to instead explore your thigh, hips, and ass. He squeezed hard on your ass, earning another whimper from you. He swiftly turned you around and pushed you to the ground, your knees, chest, and face all making contact with the hard ground. Lucifer pressed himself against you, grinding slightly against you as he growled in your ear, “You. Are. Mine.” His words filled your mind, repeating over and over.”

You felt his weight pull off of you, before he ripped what was left of your top off, leaving you cold and shivering. Lucifer pulled his gloves off, and threw them to the side. He raked his claws down your back, small crimson beads forming along the bright burning scratched he left behind. His hands reached the waistband of your bottoms, and he swiftly rid you of them along with your underwear. He let out a deep growl as he kneaded your ass, staring hungrily down at your fully exposed body. Suddenly, you could feel his mouth on your ass, his tongue skillfully swirling and prodding the tight hole. He tongued your ass with vigor, claws digging into your ass cheeks as his grip tightened. Small moans began to fall from your mouth, just loud enough that he could hear them. He pulled back much to your.. Disappointment? Surely, you couldn’t be disappointed that he had stopped rimming you.

You heard the pop of a lid, followed by a cold, wet finger rubbing against your ass. Had he brought lube? Huh. Lucifer began to press his finger into you, easily slipping the whole finger in. He wiggled the finger inside you for a moment, before he began to push a second finger into you. This finger was met with slight resistance, taking a tiny bit longer to fit inside you. Once both fingers were full inside, he began to scissor them, opening and stretching you out. He pushed them in and out as well, curling his fingers as he went. Your legs were shaking, and your sex was dripping from the stimulation. He hummed as he added a third finger, really making sure to prepare you for what was next.

Just as you felt you could take no more, Lucifer pulled his fingers from you. You whined and your ass was gaping slightly from the loss of his fingers. “Oh?” his voice was filled with amusement. “Could it be that you’re wanting this?” He chuckled, which was shortly followed by the sound of a zipper. His thick cock rubbed between your ass cheeks, he drizzled more lube across the top of his cock as the bottom got coated by what was already on your ass. “I can’t wait any longer.” You felt the head of his cock press against your ass, and quickly pop in, eliciting a moan from you, and a deep groan from him. He pressed deeper, stretching and filling you more than you could’ve imagined.

As he bottomed out, he placed a hand against your back, and his other hand on your hip. “F-fuck,” he swore as he pulled back slowly, before quickly snapping his hips foreward. He began to set a pace, not very fast, but his thrusts were rough, pushing you forward each time. His claws dug into your skin as he quickened, letting his moans and groans fall freely. His hand shifted from your hip to your sex, long fingers moving defltly and driving you insane. You were close and he could tell. “Are you going to cum?” he panted out. “What a filthy slut, going to cum out here in the woods.” His fingers and thrusts pushed you over the edge, and you let out a strangled moan that was on the verge of sounding like a scream. As your orgasm wracked your body, causing you to shake all over, you tightened on Lucifer's cock, basically sucking him in.

Lucifer did not let up, his fingers continued working your sex, his thrusts remained as quick and rough as they had been. The sensation was overwhelming, your vision was spotty and it was all you could do to manage to breath. He followed close behind you, groaning as he released his cum deep into your ass. His thrusts continued though, slightly more erratic, but not slowing down. “You really think im -mng- finished with you?” He leaned over your back and kissed at your neck. “As if.” He pulled out of you momentarily, and flipped you onto your back. He swiftly reinserted himself and leaned over you. He rested on his forearms, framing your head as he caught your mouth in his. He thrust slowly now, grinding himself into you as he messily kissed you. You weakly wrapped your arms around his neck, and kissed back. “Mmhh, what a sweet little lamb you are,” he purred between kisses.

He kept going like this, slowly fucking you, almost passionately. Alternating between kissing your mouth, cheeks, neck, ears, anywhere he could reach. It was almost as if you were making love in his bed at home, the way he treated you now. You could feel yourself grow closer to orgasm again, and you clamped down on his cock. He smiled against your skin upon feeling this. “Close again, little lamb?” his voice was still rough in your ears, but there was a small hint of sweetness to it. “I’m close too.” You tangled a hand into his hair at those words, running your nails against his scalp and tugging gently. He shifted his weight to support himself with one arm, and slid a hand between the two of you to rub against your sex once more.

His thrusts quicked slightly as his orgasm built, and he gently moaned your name in your ear. “I want you to cum with me lamb, fuck I’m so close.” You weakly moaned his name in response, your voice thick in your throat. He suddenly thrust hard into you, and filled you once more with his cum. The warm feeling combined with his fingers pushed you over for the second time, you continually moaned out his name as you rode out your orgasm. Your breaths began to slow as he brought his hand up to your mouth. You opened your mouth and cleaned yourself from his hand. He caressed your cheek with his now cleaned hand. “Such a good lamb for me.”

He pulled himself from you, zipping his softening cock back into his pants. He helped you sit up and kissed you sweetly, before wrapping you up in his coat and picking you up. “Let’s get you home, hm?” He whispered as you settled into his arms, head resting on his chest. You nodded and closed your eyes as the two of you walked in a warm silence to the House of Lamentation. Before you knew it, you had reached his room. He gently set you on his bed. “I’ll run a bath.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before retreating to his private bathroom. You sighed happily, cuddling into his coat and breathing in his scent. It wasn’t long before sweet floral scents began wafting from the bathroom. Lucifer emerged from the bathroom with a first aid kit. “Time to clean up lamb.” You begrudgingly shed his coat, moving as he instructed to give him better access to the various scrapes, cuts, and bite marks. He whispered praise as he cleaned you up with an antiseptic, peppering in plenty of ‘I love you’s.

He gets to your ankle and you winced. You really managed to do a number on that one. He had used a small amount of magic on the larger of the cuts, but he used more on your ankle. The swelling immediately reduced, and the pain lessened and dulled. “Thank you love,” you managed to croak, your voice not quite ready to be used much. He kissed your nose.

“Of course, now, I think the bath is ready.” With that, he picked you up once more, carrying you into the bathroom and helping you into the warm bubble bath he had prepared. He quickly shed his own clothes, and slipped in the tub behind you, wrapping his arms around you. You lean back into him, resting your head against his shoulder. The two of you stay like this, holding each other as he hummed gently. As you felt the water start to cool, you took turns washing the other, gently cleaning off your skin, and massaging your hair. Once you were both clean, Lucifer helped you out of the tub, wrapping a fluffy towel around your shoulders. He drained the tub as you worked on toweling off, he followed suit once he was finished with the tub.

Now dry, Lucifer returned to tending to your wounds. Applying ointments and bandages, then gently wrapping your ankle. He let out a yawn, and laughed lightly at himself. “Time for bed it seems.” You nodded, giving a yawn yourself. You shimmy under the covers, Lucifer laid himself next to you and wrapped his arms around you. “Good night lamb, sweet dreams.” He kissed you once more, before you both drifted off to sleep.

#obey me #shall we date obey me #lucifer #obey me lucifer #luci #lucifer x mc #lucifer x reader #smut #obey me smut #obey me fanfic #obey me one shot #fluff #angst #dubcon #blood #aftercare #predator prey #adrians writing

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mongooseblues · 3 years

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Bless You Father for I Have Sinned (Fleabag, Hot Priest) 1/1

Did anyone watch Fleabag and/or want to read about a hot priest sneezing?

This works just fine as a standalone if u haven’t seen the show but for context: Hot Irish prob alcoholic “cool swear-y” priest and recovering sex addict and all-around hot mess main character (who doesn’t have a name) strike up a “friendship” that is just a poorly veiled excuse for spending time with someone they want very badly to fuck but can’t bc priesthood vow of celibacy and whatnot.

Here’s ~2k words in which I continuously get off on the idea of blessing a priest and unresolved sexual tension I also don’t resolve.

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“Fuck you, calling me Father like it doesn’t turn you on just to say it…”

It happens for maybe ten minutes before it starts to stick out to her. Because it’s cold, as it always is on early-spring nights in London, and while they’re both fully dressed (unfortunately), neither is probably quite dressed enough to be out in a garden at this hour. And they’re a bit drunk—not that drunk, they’re both pretty practiced—on the G&Ts he’s so fond of for whatever reason. He specifically likes the kind you get already mixed in a can, which are especially shit, but it’s almost endearing that he likes those in particular. Well, very endearing actually. Goddamn this man—or… hmm, poor choice of words.

It doesn’t really grab her attention until he combines the sniffling with pinching his nostrils together.

“You alright, you’re quite sniffly?”

“I know, I dunno what’s going on,” he says, and punctuates it with a harsher sniffle than the ones previously unacknowledged, “Think ‘m just cold.” He zips his sweatshirt up a bit as if to illustrate.

“We could get you a blanket and swaddle you up like baby Jesus.”

He laughs. She extracts from her coat pocket a pack of cigarettes, takes one herself and angles the carton toward him in offering. Mostly because she wants him to scoot closer to her on the bench as she flicks the lighter for him. The flame illuminates the angles of his face in orange, the back of his fingers grazing her hand by happy accident, and yes, it’s a little pathetic that this momentary skin-to-skin contact is as erotic as it is to her, but that’s what you get when you fancy a priest isn’t it?

“They’re always describing him as being swaddled. Odd word, swaddled. Sounds kind of violent.”

“It does kind of,” he agrees, leaning back against the bench and exhaling a stream of smoke into the night air. Her plan worked, he’s ever so slightly closer to her now, post cigarette exchange, close enough that when he sniffles she can feel the slight vibration of his shoulders through the loose fabric on her coat sleeve. It unites them like an accidental spark of electricity she can sense just faintly enough to feel jumpy. Or turned on. Or both.

She really shouldn’t be this shameless about trying desperately to corrupt a man of the cloth she wants to get under. Maybe she’d feel properly guilty if she wasn’t quite so fucking horny.

“So you did read more than just the passages I marked for you?” He asks, at once surprised and pleased and maybe nervous, grinning but also looking away for a moment as if he could disguise all of that.

“Not really, just the birth of the ol’ lord and savior. It seemed like it’d be climactic.”

“Was it?”

“Can’t say I climaxed reading it, no,” she says with a cheeky look that elicits the laughter she’s looking for, “No offense but it’s really quite boring, this book you love so much.”

“Yeah… that’s a tragically common sentiment among reviewers.” He’s scratching at his nose with the back of one wrist with such intensity it’s unmistakeable how much it’s bothering him.

“Don’t care much for the writing style either, I have to say.”

If the irritation could be resolved with a mouse-like scrunch of the nose he’d have figured it out by now, and clearly he hasn’t because he still has to shrink into his crossed arms like an accordion with a fairly high-pitched, vocal and thus somehow Irish-accented, “Hehh-ishhYUE!”

“Bless. The only way I was able to get through it was by imagining you in every speaking role.”

It’s a sentence meant to provoke him, not unlike most of her sentences, and for a minute as her eyes are on her own exhaled smoke and he fails to respond, she wonders whether it sounded even weirder than she meant it, but as it turns out he’s just about to sneeze again — squinting into the distance and bringing an arm to his face in slow motion.

“Mmff-SHOO!” He blinks in surprise as he resumes his previous position on the bench, now shifted just a bit farther away from her. Damn.

“Ugh, sorry. Every speaking role?? Ohfuck— ahh-ishSHEU!”

“Jesus.”

“You imagined me as Jesus??”

“No I mean Jesus, are you okay, did you catch something?” Of course she imagined him as Jesus.

“Ooh I hope not,” he says with a nervous look, “that’d be lousy timing.”

“The lord works in mysterious ways.”

“Thuh-that he does—” A sudden inhale, a crooked arm rising at a much hastened speed. It begins in a manageable way, somewhat controlled, but then it seems to get away from him.

“Hh… hehd’SHHUE!”

“Bless you, Father."

He mumbles a thank you bookended by soft snuffling.

“Maybe he’s sent you a plague of sneezing. He does that sometimes doesn’t he? Send plagues?”

His face just scarcely conveys amusement before it’s hijacked again by the same expectant expression, but he still attempts to talk through it, even as irritation becomes evident in every feature. “S-sometimes…”

She thinks about saying bless you in advance but decides instead to just wait for him to succumb to it. A flicker of lashes, a reveal of the very tips of canines, his entire face crinkles around his visibly twitching nose. It pulls him downward and then forward in that order, as he collapses into a crooked arm as if stumbling despite being seated.

An especially desperate, “hehhSCHOO!” that begins quietly but certainly doesn’t end that way.

“God bless you, Father, again.”

“Wow,” he says with a sniff, knuckles swiping under his nose in a single smooth motion, “Maybe I’m allergic to you. My body’s having a reaction.”

“Is it?”

An eyeroll and a grin, and then he goes back to scratching at his aggravated face in a manner that’s becoming aggressive.

“Well stop manhandling your nose that’s clearly not working.” Before she can think better of it, she takes his elbow to pull the offending arm away from his face. She can feel his muscles tense with the movement, but when she looks up at him there’s only a blurry-eyed smile chased by a nervous huff of a laugh. Another line she can’t uncross but doesn’t particularly want to.

The therapist hadn’t needed to point out that her all-consuming attraction to someone she couldn’t have was probably a healthy coping mechanism of her recently adopted abstinence. She hadn’t really expected this though — for her advances to not be rejected entirely. She hadn’t planned for hope to cease feeling like such a daft, one-sided notion.

“Should I even be blessing you or is that overkill? Or am I even qualified to bless you? Can one bless a priest if they’re not like, anointed or something?”

“You can bless me,” he confirms, looking like he’s barely got a handle on controlling his own eyebrows. Or lips for that matter. God, that mouth, those lips. Parting by accident the way she’d like to make them open on purpose.

“Little greedy of you. You’re not blessed enough as is?”

“Neh—neverhurts…” He pitches sidewards with a slurred, tellingly tipsy, “hehh-ESHHyoooo!”

“Bless you…”

“Thank you,” he sniffles with embarrassed necessity, bringing the back of a sleeve to his nose.

“Hold on, I think I have some tissues,” she says as she feels around in her bag in the darkness, “Well, cocktail napkins at least.” Another knuckle brush as she hands them to him. How arousing. How pitifully arousing. She really should come up with ways to hand him things more often.

“Ahh you were holding out on me,” he says, and then after a gentle blow, “Sorry.”

“You are coming down with something aren’t you?"

He thinks about it, bringing the napkin away from his nostrils with a final follow-up dab. “I dunno, maybe?”

“Do you feel ill?”

“Mostly just very itchy.”

How many other chances will she get… She reaches a hand to gingerly press the back of her fingers against his forehead. He blinks a few times in response, rapidly and reflexively, and swallows back a smile. There’s a burning in her stomach that’s neither pleasant nor unpleasant.

“Um, you feel okay I think?” She says, attention course-corrected back to the cigarette crumbling in her hand, but still glancing at him to measure the aftermath of the relatively bold gesture and they lock smiling eyes in the process.

If he really wanted to ward her off he’s doing a phenomenally shitty job of it. She knows he wants her. God if only that was enough, to know he wanted her.

“I think you’re right I’ve been sent a plague of sneezing. Probably trying to tell me something.”

“Something about how your new friend could take care of you?”

He grins with half of his mouth. “Or something about how I probably shouldn’t be drinking G&Ts in the middle of the night with my new friend who I like a little too much.”

Oh he… really shouldn’t have given her that.

“ExxSHHUE!!” He shakes the whole bench with this, then straightens back up, not looking entirely recovered, and says almost to himself, “And about how I probably shouldn’t tell my new friend that I like them a little too much.”

“But you did anyway and he hasn’t, I dunno, smote you down yet.”

Irritation is still etched into his features, his chest slowly swelling with air, hastily fiddling with the napkins.

“Are you actually going to sneeze again? You haven’t finished?”

He shakes his head as his eyes close and seizes into a rushed, “hehESHHyue!"

“It’s a plague I can’t stop! Snf, it’s out of my hands."

She knows the night’s over, she does. She gets the sense that she’d been invited to overstay her welcome, but it’s getting past that point now. Whenever she leaves after being around him her face hurts from smiling like an idiot the whole time and she comes away aching in more ways than one. That ache is starting already, another sign they’ve stretched this interaction too long once again.

However, alcohol. “If you tell me to leave and you sneeze again perhaps we’ll know whether or not it was divine intervention.”

“He might just be punishing me now anyway,” he sighs, remembering a cigarette he may not have taken a single drag from, neglected and foreshortening in his fingers.

“We haven’t done anything we’re just talking. I’m a—what is it, parishioner?”

“That is a word, yes. Snf! Though it implies someone who’s actually going to church to, you know, practice their faith."

“I’m a parishioner here to…” she’s not even sure what to say, she still doesn’t know shit about Catholicism aside from the fact that it’s a massive cockblock, “seek your… counsel? Guidance? Guidance counseling.”

He puts a hand over part of his face, tired but amused. “You can’t act innocent even when you’re trying your best, can you?"

She almost snorts. Is this what he thinks trying her best looks like?—No, don’t actually say— “Who said I was trying my best?”

Why can’t she stop herself from saying things like that to him? The only thing that’s going to stop her now is a ‘no’ that’s actually firm enough not to give way when she presses against it relentlessly. He honestly needs to just get it over with before he really gives her too much to hold onto. She’s not going to win out over God, the guy’s pretty fucking stiff competition.

Goddamnit, just break her heart already, what the fuck is he waiting for? This should have ended ages ago, and now it’s getting dangerously close to too late.

Was it unfair to assume he’d be stronger than her? Or is he trying to hurt himself too? A duetted exercise in masochism, mutually assured destruc—

“—ESSHHYUE!” He looks at her through wet lashes, bleary and sheepish and drunk and cute and fuck.

She sighs loudly, looks skyward and says, “Right, you’ve made your point! I’m leaving!”

#am i going to include the forehead feeling trope in every fic I ever write? ur goddamn right I am #to be fair I resisted the heightened temperature temptation aaand he’s not technically sick so I’m ‘doing something new’#I’ve done this platonic-but-not dynamic to death and I’ll 100% do it again in the future #i have absolutely no concept of how popular this show is or isn't #but hey hot priest is hot so here ya go #i am not even a little bit catholic but neither is fleabag so no research for meeeee #mongoose writes sometimes

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starneko123 · 3 years

Text

Butterfly Effect

Star's Note: So I finally got around to putting my main OC in the MK 2021 movie storyline and the first part is like a...songfic? Yeah so prepare for that and also Korë Nagako X Liu Kang is a crack ship, in general, please don't take it seriously lol.

OC Characters Involved

Nova Nagako

Mileena walked through the foyer leading to Shang Tsung's throne. Kabal and Goro were joining her it wasn't like she needed assistance for this. She preferred to do this one alone but the iron lung and royal brute refused. The trio reached Shang Tsung and once he gave Mileena the signal she spoke "She was spotted in Earthrealm far from Raiden's Temple as we speak. She seems to have...a different life with others around her. A caregiver." Mileena finished with an aggravated sigh "A caregiver?" Shang Tsung echoed in question.

Kabal cut his way into the conversation "She means her mother but with the description you gave it made it more difficult to find her. No white streaks in the hair, no pink eyes, and no magical powers. The reincarnation is shit." Kabal spat gesturing behind as if she was there. "Nova-" Shang Tsung began and Kabal cut him off once more. "News Flash she doesn't even go by Nova over there! Who the hell would name their kid Nova in this modern day. Her name is Korë. Not any better but it's different. Not fucking Nova." Now he was finished, and he put his hand on the hip for added flare.

"She's not our Lady Nova but still she stands out." Prince Goro mentioned. Mileena may have sniffed her out but Goro tracked her down. He found her first his chest swelled with pride. "She has companions." Mileena groaned half-heartedly "A friend and a consort." Shang Tsung leaned forward standing up from his throne altogether. "A consort?!" Kabal spoke again, "Yeah, not very good looking or the sharpest tool in the shed but they're around each other." Too bad they couldn't see Kabal rolling his eyes because he was doing so every few seconds. "Are you the better option?" Kabal asked genuinely "She is my Queen, my better half." Shang Tsung's voice echoed dreamily and again Kabal rolled his eyes "That's what they all say." Mileena then stepped closer to Shang Tsung as if it was just the two of them. "She had the marking of a Chosen One." Shang Tsung smirked "All the better." He then snapped his head to the side to look over at Nitara perched on a block of stone petting her wings. "Kabal and Mileena...Nitara will assist you in retrieving Nova." Mileena had no problem with that, she got along with Nitara so far. "Yes, master." Nitara said slyly as she sashayed towards the two said kombatants.

"Kill or injure beyond repair whoever stops you from bringing back my wife!" His voice echoed into the maroon sky.

Korë herself was sitting in a chair next to her close friend and housemate, Soleil. "You know what I think I did a really good job on my eyeshadow." She said brushing it a few more times and facing Soleil to show her eyelids covered in white eyeshadow and silver outline. She also had glitter on her face it must have been from the perfume or another form of body glitter. "I think you did really good this time, you're getting better." Soleil put her brush down and stood up fixing her dress in the process. Korë and Soleil were wearing the same dress it was a short pure white dress with lace at the ends and at Korë thought it was plus since it also wasn't strapless.

"Korë Nagako and Soleil Zaveri... five-minute call out. Almost showtime." It was their manager, Soleil responded with an 'Alright' and Korë an 'Okay'. Soleil stood up from her rolling chair as she finished her winged eyeliner and Korë followed her as she finished putting on her lip gloss.

"Yeah, I'm at the place it's like this, singer stripper bar or whatever, I don't know but she's here," Sonya said as she entered the bar and took a seat in the back, and ordered a drink.

"Now, blessing us with their presence is the femme fatale duo is Korë and Soleil!" The response to the statement was scattered cheers. The duo walked onto the stage and the atmosphere itself changed when she saw Korë. Korë had a slight headache that she had been nursing for a couple of days and Soleil knew that but Korë was convinced that it had gone away and she was just dealing with the aftermath. They both cleared their throat and as the stage light shined on them, Soleil started harmonizing as the beat started playing and Korë started singing.

It's like you got superpowers

Turn my minutes into hours

You got more than 20-20, babe

Made of glass the way you see through me

You know me better than I do

Can't seem to keep nothing from you

How you touch my soul from the outside?

Permeate my ego and my pride

"I love you." Shang Tsung said as he wrapped his arms around Korë twisting her around so she was facing him and she gazed at him lovingly as a teasing smirk spread across her obsidian lips. She leaned in until their lips were ghosting over each other "Do you want me to say it back?" She asked jokingly "I think my heart will truly break if you don't." Shang said dramatically and she giggled "I love you."

I wanna love me (ooh)

The way that you love me (ooh)

Ooh, for all of my pretty

And all of my ugly too

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I wanna trust me (trust me)

The way that you trust me (trust me)

Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do

I'd love to see me from your point of view

"If you stop moving it would hurt less Prince Goro." He growled again at her statement and she returned it with a cold, unmoving stare. His growls then calmed down to huffs and puffs "Thank you." She said to him as she finished wrapping the bandage around his arm. "The wound isn't too bad, you'll heal fast either way." She said as she stood up and gathered her healing equipment and before she left she was grated with a rumbling "Thank you." at least he had manners she'll give him that. Before she closed the door she sent him a smile. A kind smile. One to remember.

I'm gеtting used to receiving

Still gеtting good at not leaving

I'ma love you even though I'm scared (oh, scared)

Learnin' to be grateful for myself (oh, oh, oh)

You love my lips 'cause they say the

Things we've always been afraid of

I can feel it startin' to subside

Learnin' to believe in what is mine

"I wouldn't recommend it Mileena," Nova said as she closed her spellbook and stood to face Mileena and they were roughly the same height. "But to ensure my knowledge of it-" Nova sighed and grabbed Mileena by the shoulders "I don't want you to learning just yet, you must stick with the powers you were born with for now. I will teach you myself when you have elevated your powers. Understand?" Nova asked tilting her head for the effect and Mileena nodded. Nova brought her in for a hug and kissed her on the forehead and at that Mileena purred in comfort and delight for the slight praise she got.

I wanna love me (ooh)

The way that you love me (ooh)

Ooh, for all of my pretty

And all of my ugly too

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I wanna trust me (trust me)

The way that you trust me (trust me)

Ooh, 'cause nobody ever loved me like you do

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I couldn't believe it or see it for myself

Boy, I be impatient, but now I'm out here

Fallin', fallin', frozen, slowly

Fallin', got me right

I won't keep you waitin' (waitin')

All my baggage fadin' safely (my baggage fadin')

And if my eyes deceive me

Won't let them stray too far away, I

I wanna love me (ooh)

The way that you love me (ooh)

Ooh, for all of my pretty

And all of my ugly too

I'd love to see me from your point of view

I wanna trust me, ooh (trust me)

The way that you trust me, baby (trust me)

'Cause nobody ever loved me like you do

I'd love to see me from your point of view (oh)

Yeah

As they finished their performance they got a fresh round of applause and Korë finally let out a breath as she always did after a performance and smiled alongside Soleil. After giving a wave they went backstage and collected their money. Since they didn't feel like staying at the bar anymore that night they decided to head home. "Good night KoKo," Soleil said with a yawn as she kissed her on the cheek and closed the door to her room. Korë was outside on the back porch humming and looking up at the sky, enjoying the night breeze. Until she heard whispering and then shuffling in the bushes 'The fuck?' she said under her breath as she quickly grabbed the steel bat near her that they used for protection.

She walked closer to the bushes and beat them with the bat a few times before staring at them again. She sighed, maybe she was just tired that was more than likely the case. She let out another breath as she turned but then yelped as she was met with a woman who was roughly her size and height. Her eyes glowed in the night and her mouth was covered in blood and it looked almost stained on her face. "Mommy Nova! I have waited so long for you!" She grinned widely showing off her razor-sharp teeth and reached for a hug arms opened wide but Korë moved a couple of steps back, her back bumped into someone and she turned to see a man taller and lankier.

"Hey, sweetness." It sounded like a man, a man who had trouble breathing and could barely compose his words. Korë wasn't thinking straight that's all she could of. She swung her bat wildly at the two intruders causing the man to speed away and the woman teleport back a few feet away from her. But she knows that she has hit one of them by the blood on her bat and the scar that was made on her stomach. She shrieked as she held her stomach and she did a full 360° but she couldn't see them. She felt like she was going to faint from the loss of blood and the lack of sleep. She then heard gunshots and she fell to the ground hoping that nothing else would wound her.

"Get up and get in the car!" She didn't have to be told twice since she was living off of adrenaline at the moment. She ran past the woman who was still letting off gunshots as she got in the car and slammed the door as she leaned into the seat protectively. After letting off a few more shots that the duo continued to dodge Sonya ran back to the car as well and got into the driver's seat starting the car and zooming off as she saw beady red eyes staring at her in the rearview mirror. "Who the hell are you?" Korë asked with a hiss as the woman started looking at her up and down when she suddenly asked "Where is the marking?" She asked indignantly "What fucking marking?! What the fuck are you talking about?" Korë spat and Sonya rolled her eyes as she tugged Korë's hoodie upwards and ghosted her finger over the Mortal Kombat marking.

"You wanna explain that?"

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat 11 #mortal kombat movie #mk movie #mk movie 2021 #kore nagako #soleil zaveri #sonya blade #arcanas #this was a bit rushed for me #but this will definitely be a series #I hope it will #mortal kombat oc #oc interaction #my oc story #my ocs do not steal #mileena#mk kabal #shang tsung

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summerstardust · 4 years

Note

the master just can't get over the idea of the reader actually being in love with him and he's scared he's gonna hurt her x dh if possible but to be honest with ya, I'll take any master or any sacha character x THANK YOU XX

Thank you for the request! I’m sorry that it took longer than expected. I hope you enjoy this! 💜

Kidnapping Dates

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Summary: The reader is The Doctor’s companion, but The Master keeps kidnapping the reader in order to get close to them.

Warnings: nothing that I know of(feel free to correct me)

Word Count: 4797

The Master stalked the cold, rainy streets of New London on New Earth. He was there to gain more information about The Doctor for his next scheme, or, at least, that’s what he told himself. Because every time The Doctor was in view, instead of analyzing her every move for weakness, he was trying to secretly look past her and her other companions to get even the tiniest glimpse of you. You and The Doctor’s fam were walking in the middle of the town’s main street with The Doctor leading the herd. The Master was finding it difficult to continue to follow you and the conversation while hiding behind ventures and their carts, trying to lure in tourists. He was certain that he looked insane, tarnishing his ego, but he hadn’t seen you properly yet. He hadn’t seen you in so long and just had to see you. You were cocooned within the herd of companions, as if they knew that you were the favored prey. They had adapted into doing that, keeping you hidden, you were always that target of The Master’s kidnappings, so they always kept you protected and in eyesight. Except for The Doctor who seemed more inclined to show off than to express overt worry. You always blamed her social awkwardness. Nevertheless, The Doctor continued her tour speech of the area.

“Actually, believe it or not, this is the fifteenth Earth since the original. So we are actually walking on the New New New -” The Doctor continued to rattle off a string of ‘new’s until her point was reached. The Master scoffed at her ridiculousness, how she was always like this, trying to impress Humans with nonsense. He grew even more aggravated when he finally saw your face and how amazed you looked, with bright and shiny eyes filled with wonder. He couldn’t wait for the opportunity to finally get you alone, so he could kidnap you. He ventured to think that maybe one day he could make your eyes shine like that because of something he showed you, but he quickly abandoned that thought, ignoring its meanings and returned to focusing on the task at hand.

The form of the fam loosened slightly. You were still in the middle of their protective circle, but the form was stretched out between two vendor carts. You were still too well guarded for The Master could make a move. But as he planned, an eruption of screams was heard from down the street, coming closer and closer to The Doctor, her fam and you. The Master had enlisted the help of an emerging villain who was recently wronged by The Doctor to interrupt this adventure. He trained them in ferociousness in turn for the monster to not hurt you. He made that caveat very clear.

The monster, a disgusting beast with long sharp teeth, and even longer sharper nails, ripped through the crowd of people, wounding the ones not fast enough to get away. The Doctor now turned protective, keeping you and the fam behind her outstretched arms. She explained the monsters' race, and how they were usually peaceful, despite their deadly appearance, but you barely followed her ramble, too overcome with the shock of your ruined outing. She vocalized her confusion of this monster’s out of character behavior. This caused the monster to lunge forward, swiping at The Doctor. He screamed a jagged cry before speaking of how The Doctor, in an act of self heroism against the Daleks, caused the death of his family by giving a self aggrandizing speech pleasing for peace instead of actually acting to solve the disaster that was occurring before her. After explaining his story, the monster lunged again. The Doctor yelled for you and the fam to return to the TARDIS, and after some arguing, you eventually agreed.

It should have been simple, finding the TARDIS, but with the fearful crowd running each and every way, the task was suddenly harder than before. When you and the fam started out your return trip, you had your hands clasped tightly around Yaz’s and Ryan’s hands respectfully. They dragged you through the crowds and you were quite thankful. The crowds seemed to double in both number and fear, it reminded you of when The Doctor took you to the running of the bulls in Spain. One side of the crowd surged, curving into an alleyway, and dragging Yaz away from you. Your hands were roughly ripped apart. Graham, who was also dragged with that moving crowd, cried out for Ryan to keep you safe and to stay together while he went to search for Yaz. Neither you nor Ryan remembered where the TARDIS was located, the crowds and screaming and running made it even more impossible to recognize any possible indicators that the two of you were headed in the right direction. Another wave of scared people serged, dragging you away from Ryan, brutally ripping your hands apart. You both screamed to each other and screamed at the crowds to stop, but it didn't help. You continued to be pulled into the moving currents of the ever shifting crowds.

Eventually they died out, leaving you in a dark alleyway, too dark for the day time. You crept around anxiously, you had no idea if The Doctor had stopped the monster, it could have been anywhere. You still tried to look for the TARDIS, even though you didn’t believe that The Doctor would park her anywhere near a dark and dingy ally like this one. The sound of a glass bottle skirting over cobbled streets distracted you from your search, causing you to turn around and see where the noise came from. You thought it could be the monster. As soon as you did this, you regretted it. You felt a syringe plunge into your neck. The effects were practically instantaneous, making you so weak that your knees gave out and your vision became fuzzy. Someone caught you, even in your daze, you could tell that they were strong, as they picked you up bridal style and carried you with perfect ease. Your head hung limp over your capture’s arm and before your eyes finally closed due to heaviness, you saw the shadow of the individual carrying you. They were shorter and wearing a long coat and cuffed pants. If your hunch was correct, you knew exactly who was kidnapping you, giving you some semblance of relief that it wasn't some random person doing this.

It took you a while to actually come to, but in your anesthetized sleep you had wonderful dreams. You didn’t know if that was just a side effect of the anesthetic, but they were welcomed and calming, given the circumstances. You first felt how ridged your body was, it was clear that he tied you up, he tended to do that, so you weren't surprised, but that didn’t subtract from the fact that the combination of the sedative and rope ties made you incredibly sore. You groaned when you moved your neck from its hanging position, despite not wanting to encourage your kidnapper’s behavior. When you opened your eyes, you saw him crouched at eye level before you, with gleaming brown eyes and a wide smile. He seemed genuinely happy, he always did when he kidnapped you.

The Master kept doing this. You’ve asked on many occasions why he felt the need to kidnap you. If he kidnapped you as a part of his latest plan to “destroy The Doctor”, you could understand his motivations, but he kidnapped you, seemingly, for fun. The two of you shared banter and jokes, more than you did with The Doctor, if you were being honest. When he first kidnapped you, you were understandably angry and uncomfortable and scared. You were not present when the fam met O or when they went to Gallifrey and fought the Lone Cyberman, but from what the fam and The Doctor described, The Master was one to be feared. Which only caused confusion when he offered you tea and biscuits and even a spare room, if you promised not to get in trouble, as his torment, then, for his best enemy lasted longer than he imagined. That was many kidnappings ago, and you had taken him up on the offers of tea, biscuits, and a spare bedroom on many occasions. But with each new kidnapping, you were never able to get to the bottom of why he acted this way to you. You had your assumptions, sure, but you wanted to hear his reason.

“So why are you kidnapping me this time?” Disgruntled and tired from the sedative and the rope that wasn’t too tight around you, but still uncomfortable.

“Why else would I kidnap one of The Doctor’s little pets? To torment her senselessly! It’s quite fun!” He leaned forward excitedly, almost bumping your nose. He always spoke very close to people’s faces, you thought that he thought that this act would make him more intimidating. It might have worked at first, but you were too used to it by now.

“I’m not her pet!” You growled at him, invading his space, as much as you could given the ropes tying you to the chair. You were more upset that he used a rougher rope this time than his comment. You were comfortable enough with yourself to not give into The Master’s teasing.

“Oh, really now?” The Master moved back and eventually stood before you, making you look up to him. Sometimes you hated his childish dependence on power dynamics, you were frankly too tired, with the remains of the sedative still in your system, to care about dynamics. You wanted a comfortable bed and rest, not rough ropes digging into your wrists and sides and ankles and The Master’s fragile ego.

“Yes.”

“Prove it.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. You see, I have these ropes restraining my movements, so I won’t be able to punch you in the face. As you know, she abhors violence. I don’t think that the others would want to disobey her, but I don’t really have that much of a problem with rebelling against The Doctor’s quote unquote wisdom”

“So you’ll kill. Was not expecting that! Maybe The Doctor only keeps you around to change you, like how she constantly tries to disrupt my life and change me.”

“I never said I would kill. I’m not like you, so don’t compare me to you. And I’m not like The Doctor, or the fam, or any of her other companions, either, so don’t compare me to them. I’m me and I just won’t hesitate to protect myself when threatened.” The Master pretended to have not liked what he heard you say, but, quite the contrary, what you had said was an example of the reason why he liked you. You weren’t like him. You weren’t like The Doctor. You weren’t like the other humans that hopelessly followed The Doctor like lost puppies. You were something new.

You had a fire of independence and a passion for justice that exceeded The Doctor’s. Where she had to try to be kind or nice, reminding herself with catchphrases and mantras, you never did. The Doctor often failed to register the fine line between justice and cruelty, you never did. Maybe that is why she, truely, kept you around, and why The Master really wanted you beside him. Keeping him from going to extremes like when he destroyed Gallifrey. The Master liked trouble, but he was growing a bit tired of constantly running away from all of the problems he caused with no sense of peace. Perhaps you could have been his peace, but he knew that the damage was done and he had inflicted too much pain to be deserving of any peace. If he kept kidnapping you, he could still keep you safe and in his life, even if it wasn’t to the extent he desired.

The Master turned, leaving your comment hanging in the air, and went to inspect something on his TARDIS monitor and leaving you with your thoughts. You weren’t exactly positive that you could hurt anyone, and you were afraid that he knew that. You wanted to protect people, protect peace and innocence. But you tried to think back to when you were left to fend for yourself in a dangerous situation, and you couldn’t locate a single memory. The Master had always been there, kidnapping you away from danger. You were thankful for that, you were quite privileged compared to The Doctor’s other companions who had to deal with fear and adrenaline and wounds and attacks and loss. You were always safe in The Master’s TARDIS with plenty of foods and blankets and warm drinks.

When you really thought about it, you understood how much he did for you. He clearly cared about you even though he would profusely deny it, and you couldn’t deny that he was attractive. If he was villainous, he wasn’t villainous to you. You saw how he possessed an aura of sadness like The Doctor’s, they were both so lonely, but The Doctor had companions. You wondered who The Master had, then you realized that he only had his TARDIS and you, if you counted the kidnappings, which you assumed that he did. When he thought you weren’t looking, you saw the sadness that pooled in his eyes and the soft touches he would give when controlling the console, almost apologetic for his outbursts. You saw how he was willing to be more vulnerable to you, at least by his standards of vulnerability.

After a long silence, briefly interrupted by TARDIS beeps and wheezing and The Master’s grumbles and mumbles about whatever was on his console monitor, you spoke up again.“Really, what goes on in that dumb head of yours?”

“I am not dumb.” He grumbled, trying to fix something on his console monitor, whatever was on was really troubling him. You would have asked him, but you preferred to taunt him.

“Yes, you are!” You spoke in a sing-songy voice, knowing that it would aggravate even more. It worked, he finally turned back toward you.

“How, pray tell, and I dumb?” He crossed his arms in front of himself, leaning against the console. You preferred having his attention on you.

“Because, if you wanted to go out on a date with me, this badly, you could have just asked.” His mouth fell open slightly. He knew that you were smart and observant, but he thought that he was being discrete. He quickly regained composure, smirking cheekily, trying to ignore his growing vulnerability and to take back the power of the situation. But you just stared right back, not giving into the power of his eyes. You swore that he was trying to hypnotise you into submission, to make you forget your allegation, but you fought back every time he poked your mind.

He continued to stare at you, slightly uncomfortable that you kept standing up against him instead of quivering and flustering before him, but he knew that if you did that, he wouldn’t like you as much as he did. His eyes bored into yours, trying to intimidate you, intensifying his gaze and his hypnotism, but you refused to back down and submit. You saw his eyes grow slightly warmer before he quickly turned back toward the TARDIS, his shoulders tensed. He gripped his console, eyeing the monitor. He spoke again, after a strained silence, still agitated.

“I’m growing tired of you. You will find that ridiculous blue box just around the street corner.” The Master flicked a few switches, causing the ropes that held you to drop and at the snap of his fingers, the TARDIS doors opened instantaneously. “Now run along to The Doctor before I decide to keep you locked in here forever.” You slowly got up and walked to the doors, still stiff. Before you exited The Master’s ship, you turned to get one last glimpse of the strange Timelord.

“You know, if you were to, hypothetically, ask me out on a date… I wouldn’t say no.” You leaned against the TARDIS, and she gave a reassuring hum above you. You weren’t quite sure if it was because of your comment or the sudden physical act.

“Why?” He was questioning and hopeful, with an aura of playfulness in his tone.

You shrugged in a way to indicate subtleness, but only to disguise your intense feelings for the man before you, “I don’t know. You don’t seem as bad as the others say you are. At least, not to me.”

“As you pointed out, I kidnap you constantly.” He couldn’t help but smile at your innocence and naivety. He could not understand how you could still see him as someone decent, despite his evil acts.

“Yeah, but it’s always a part of a scheme to kill The Doctor and her fam, while I am safe and tucked away in your ship away from danger, or it’s right before The Doctor is about to get us into a dangerous situation, when I’m stolen away by you. I would put money on the fact the right after you took me, a monster attacked the fam, and you kept looking at the monitor to check and see whether or not the threat was gone.” The Master didn’t say anything, only smiled bittersweetly at you, after you smiled and waved him a goodbye. The Master snapped his fingers again, closing the doors when you fully exited his TARDIS, mumbling a soft “Until we meet again, Y/N.”

The Master watched you leave on the console monitor, when you returned to The Doctor, he flew off to drift amongst the stars in order to plan for his next kidnapping of you. But when coordinates randomly appeared on the data screen of the console, he grew distracted from his task. He thought that maybe he deserved a break from torturing himself by dangling something he could never have before him, maybe he deserved a little trouble at the moment. The Master, strangely, did not know the place, but the message was sent from an old partner in a small overthrow of a corrupt dictator. The partner had thanked The Master profusely, but he was only in it for the money and to see the dictator, who angered The Master at a banquet, finally and horrifically murdered.

The Master freshened up a bit and followed the coordinates to the meeting place. He strolled out of his TARDIS, confident and excited for a new evil scheme. However, The Master’s face fell in disappointment when he saw The Doctor leaning against her blue box. The Master grumbled and rolled his eyes, quickly turning back to his ship. He was not in the mood for another lecture from The Doctor, he had experienced too many of them in his life.

“Why do you keep kidnapping Y/N?” The Doctor’s voice caused The Master to halt. Even though he wanted to just fly away and leave The Doctor questioning his actions, he couldn’t resist talking about you, but he couldn't allow his best enemy to know. He marched up to The Doctor, trying to be threatening.

“Because seeing the look of fear in your eyes, Doctor, brings joy to my very dark life.” The Master turned to leave, again, even more annoyed with The Doctor’s interference.

“Are you sure that it's my pain bringing you joy? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like Y/N is the one sparking joy in your dark life.” The Master froze in shock. He thought that there was no way for The Doctor to know his true feelings for you. He assumed that The Doctor was too dim catch on to is, admittedly, uncharacteristic behavior. He knew that you would never tell her of the feeling you, correctly, presumed he had for you. He knew that you found the banter quite fun and that you enjoyed his company, as he did for you. If you didn’t, you would be kicking and screaming during every encounter, but the two of you were always polite.

“I have no idea what you are referring to, Doctor. I think your mind is growing emotional due to extended time around Humans. Have your pets been making you watch rom-coms?”

“Oh, just admit it, Master. You like Y/N. I know for a fact that they like you, too.” The Master turned around again, he did not want The Doctor to see his pleased face, but his happiness faded when he realized that the two of you could never be together. For so many reasons it was impossible. He thought that it was simpler to break your heart now then to wait for one of his enemies to kill you or you to die of old age while he remains young.

“Don’t you understand?! Oh! What am I saying?! Of course you don’t understand!” His rage took over him as he turned back to The Doctor.

“Understand what?” The Master just wished his best enemy would drop the subject.

“Y/N can never live with me on my TARDIS, can never be my companion, and can never love me! It’s a big enough risk for me to love them! All of the damage I caused, all of the people I’ve killed whose families want revenge, all of the people who want to see me dead, they will go after Y/N, they will hurt and kill them, just to get to me. I can never allow that. You take so many risks with your pets, Doctor, but I refuse to put Y/N in that much danger. So I will remain their strange protector, keeping them away from the danger you threaten to put them through” The Master gave up trying to explain his position to The Doctor, massaging his brow with his hand.

Throughout this discourse the two Timelords had, they had moved and circled each other. The Doctor had allowed you to listen in on the entire conversation via the TARDIS’s listening devices, and instructed you to exit her ship when she indicated. After The Master had made his declaration of love you wanted to exit then and run to him, but stopped at the doors, watching the scene briefly. You thought that The Master was going to attempt to explain himself further, but but stopped himself multiple times, he suddenly surged back towards his TARDIS. This time he was fully intent on leaving and never coming back. You rushed out of the doors, the TARDIS making no attempt to stop you, as you ran to The Master and wrapped your arms around his torso, you could feel him tense in your arms. You couldn’t see his face, but you assumed that he was regretting following the coordinates. He eventually relaxed, but softly placed his hands on your arms and pushed them away from his body.

“I can’t. I can’t do this to you.” He refused to face you, still walking determinedly to his TARDIS, “I would be allowing you to sign your own death certificate. I can’t let you kill yourself for me. I’m selfish, but I refuse to let the only light of my life perish because of my wants.” You grabbed his hand forcefully, stopping him from moving. You tried to turn him around to face you, but he stood as still as a statue. You elected to move to his side, resting your chin on his shoulder. Your hands were still clasped tightly around his one. You wanted to make this conversation as private as you possibly could, you could see The Master’s agitation and uncomfortableness at being so vulnerable.

“I want this. I want you, Master.” He finally looked at you, his eyes big and round and sad, tears were threatening to spill out.

“I can’t. I can’t. I would be killing you. I would corrupt you. My selfishness will bring your end before it was ever supposed to happen, all because I want someone to love me.” He continued to mutter self deprecating comments about how this was impossible. You hated seeing him like this. You understood that he had thousands of years of past trauma and he should have the opportunity to be open, but in this situation, when you knew that you could ease his pain and he refused to listen to you, all you wanted was to slap his self depreciation out of him.

You abruptly tore your hands from his and cupped his face, planting a soft kiss to his lips. You moved to pull away, as you had an important statement to make to The Master, but he placed a firm hand on the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. You ventured to think how awkward The Doctor must be feeling at this sight. The Master must have been able to see into your mind, because as soon as you thought of The Doctor, he increased his attack on your lips. The two of you parted when you needed to catch your breath. You rested your forehead against his as he cupped your face, occasionally running his hands through your hair affectionately.

“Master, I know that you believe that you are doing your best to protect me now, but from my perspective, I know that you would never have gotten involved with me if you had any doubt about whether or not we would make it out together. I know that you protect me, as you have before. I know that you will care for me. And I know that you will find a way to combate my human biology and lifespan. I believe in you. I believe that you love me. Now you just need to believe me and believe in my love for you.” You tried to look him in the eye, but he skirted your gaze, electing to close his eyes in an act to engrave your words into his memory. He pulled you into a bone crushing hug suddenly, one arm pulling your torso tight against his, the other wrapped around the back of your neck. Your nose rested between the collar of his purple coat and his neck, and you breathed in his scent of warm smoke and cold mint, a juxtaposition that was very him. You didn’t know if this was the last moment you would ever see him this intimately or ever again and you wanted to remember every nuance you were allowed the privilege of knowing.

The Master thought long and hard about his possible relationship to you. He wondered if it was worth it, given that you were Human and he was a Timelord, but you were keen to The Master’s ways. As soon as he saw you, he began drawing up possible plans of extending your life. He had been so wrapped up in his mind about all of the futures the two of you could live, and now he had the opportunity to live out some of those futures. I believed you. He believed your love. Despite how shocked he was about his feelings for you and yours for him, from this moment forward he refused to be without your love and support. He eventually pulled back, still holding you. You couldn’t read his face and grew even more fearful that you would never see him again.

“Please don’t leave me, Master.” You tried to hold in tighter, to plead for your futures, but The Master pulled your hands away from his body to hold them in his hands.

“As long as you don’t leave me, Y/N.” The Master broke into a genuinely happy smile when he saw the relief that spread across your face. You hugged him again, and he picked you up and spun you around a couple of times. The both of you giggled excitedly.

“I guess it's a good thing I made you pack before this then.” The Doctor spoke up when you and The Master separated. Both of you had forgotten that The Doctor was there watching your confessions of love.

The Doctor was fully supportive of your budding relationship with The Master. She helped the two of you move your suitcases and boxes of souvenirs into The Master’s TARDIS and gave you an emotional goodbye, along with a goodbye to the fam, and a promise to call and text frequently. Once settled and happy in your new home, all you could do was smile until it hurt and hug The Master, too excited about the future and your love for the Timelord to fully comprehend the risks of your new relationship. But at this moment of bliss, the risks were worth it.

#dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #doctor who #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #sacha dhawan #the master x reader #the master imagine #personal post #fanfiction #request #anon

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paranoia-assault · 3 years

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Fate/Stay Night Review

I've been meaning to get around to this for a while, so this post will contain my thoughts on Fate/Stay Night. I'll be going in order of how you're supposed to play the routes. Massive spoilers btw. Also this is copied over from Twitter, so sorry for any weird formatting.

Keep in mind I enjoyed every route, so any negative points I bring up never made me think the route wasn't worth reading. That said, UBW > HF > Fate, so we'll be starting with my least favorite route.

There's 2 reasons why the Fate route is my least favorite. The first is that is has to explain a lot, so it feels like not much happens in it compared to the other two routes. The second is Shirou's "girls can't fight" bullshit. I can't stand Shirou in the 1st half of the route. Shirou does get better, but this is probably my least favorite version of him. I cannot stand every moment he tries to hold Saber back from fighting and almost gets himself killed because "girls can't fight." It is extremely aggravating.

That said, Shirou is fantastic in the second half of the route. The Fate route is Saber's story, and he plays the perfect part in it. His dream of being a super hero goes perfectly with her wish of being a great king. Seeing these ideologies clash, then come together, is amazing. It's why I like the Shirou/Saber ship despite Shirou/Rin being my favorite. These two were practically made for each other. Last Episode only adds to this, and it made me retroactively like the Fate route more. Saber's ending was beautiful and their eventual reunion even more so.

Illya was also great as a villain. I do think Gilgamesh and Kirei both have routes where they shine better as villains, so when I think "the villain of the Fate route," it's Ilya who comes to mind. Berserker was the perfect threat, and the two together were genuinely terrifying.

Summed up thoughts on the Fate route: Good starting point. A bit slow, and Shirou is very annoying in the first half, but the Saber/Shirou dynamic in the second half makes the route worth playing. 7/10.

Time for my favorite route: Unlimited Blade Works. I fucking adore this route. When I think "Fate/Stay Night," this is the route that comes to mind. If I were to recommend one route, it would be this one. I even plan on watching the anime for it at some point.

The main reason I love this route is Shirou. UBW Shioru specifically is one of my favorite Fate characters. He is confronted with a massive challenge to his ideals. He's pretty much shown they're flawed. But rather than toss them aside, he strengthens his convictions. He denies his future self, determined to be different. Yeah, his ideals might have flaws, but why should that matter? Carrying on Kiritsugu's dream is meaningful to him. The pain is worth saving those he can. Even if it's a thankless, miserable task, he won't turn away from it.

Oh, and let's talk about Archer. I love him. Seeing a pessimistic side of Shirou, a potential result of his ideals, was fascinating. I was genuinely shocked when the twist happened, and it made me deeply appreciate Archer's character. Archer is another of my favorite F/SN chars.

Now, let's talk about my favorite F/SN character, Rin. Rin is great. She was trained to understand and accomplish what has to be done, but has a soft spot not unlike Shirou's that leads her to help others. She had a painful upbringing, but doesn't regret a second of it.

She is the perfect foil for Shirou. She recognizes the pain his ideals are putting him through, but rather than force him to throw them away, she decides to stay with him to make sure he doesn't push himself too far. She tries to help Shriou learn to enjoy himself. Shirou/Rin is my favorite ship in the VN for this reason. They compliment each other so well. Their personalities clash in a way that lets them both grow, and they're genuinely cute together, though you can say that last part about any of the 3 main Shirou ships.

The villains are also great. Caster isn't the same type of threat as Illya/Berserker, but her backstory and dynamic with her Master is really interesting to see. I enjoyed her moments on screen. Gilgamesh was the perfect final boss for this route though. Specifically for Shirou. Gilgamesh' powers match Shirou's reality marble perfectly. Infinite Noble Phantasms. Gilgamesh calls Shirou fake, but that leads to Shirou showing how an imitation can outclass the original. It's such a smart hero/villain dynamic, and the perfect end to Shirou's story in UBW.

Saber even gets some closure in this route, though not as much as in Fate. She gets to be Rin's Servant at the end (which I adored btw), and once again chooses to destroy the girl, moving on from her past. Also, she lives in the good ending which makes me happy.

I also need to talk about Illya. Her scene with Berserker is one of her best scenes in the entire VN. She's barely on screen in this route compared to the other routes, but somehow she made just as much of an impact with that time. I felt so bad for her in that last scene.

Summed up thoughts on the UBW route: This route is where all the characters shone their brightest. Shirou's ideals are handled perfectly, almost every Servant gets the attention they deserve, and the writing is overall high quality the entire route. 9/10.

Finally, Heaven's Feel...I think my thoughts on this route will be the most controversial, as I have very mixed feelings.

I do want to say this first. I love Sakura. She is a fantastic character, and she deserves the world. I'm glad she gets the spotlight in this route.

I also think Kirei was at his best this route. His backstory, along with his final confrontation with Shirou, were both extremely well written. He went from a despicable villain to a despicable written I love to hate. He almost stole the show as much as Sakura did, honestly.

Rider was great this route. I love the twist that Sakura is her true master, and her protective nature over Sakura was great to see. This is the only route where she manages to stand her ground against Saber for a decent period of time, too. I'm glad she lives to the end.

The highlight of the route, however, has to be Sakura and Rin's bond. Learning that they were sisters, and seeing them slowly and awkwardly get closer, is fantastic. That final confrontation between the two of them blew me away with the spectacle & Rin using the second sorcery. Of course, the hug that ended the fight was the best part. Rin realizing she can't kill Sakura after all, despite everything she said to Shirou, was beautiful. Sakura's horror at thinking she killed her sister, showing she's not a full monster yet, was tragically heartwarming.

Them bringing the sorceries in with Illya and Rin was nice. I like how we got an epilogue that took place two years after the final battle rather than a few months. There is a lot to like about this route.

...But there's also a lot I don't like.

Zouken and Assassin are just...okay villains. I don't think they're terrible, but they're not as interesting as any of the other villains in F/SN.

My main complaint is that this route introduced too much. So many elements are here that aren't even touched on in previous routes. Zouken, true Assassin, the crest worms, the true Holy Grail, Angru Mainyu, these are all elements of the route that I'm just supposed to accept only come into play under these circumstances. Sometimes it feels like they came up with it all after the other two routes were written. None of them are badly written per se, it just feels so out of nowhere that I couldn't fully get into the story here.

As for what I do think is badly written...I don't like Shirou in this route. He feels more selfish than in the others, often pushing aside others' feelings. The main moment that comes to mind is when Illya goes with Sakura. When Shirou finds her, he slaps her and yells at her, not accepting her feelings of wanting the end of her life to be meaningful. And there is no way to escape her death. The route makes that clear. Shirou also throws away his ideals for Sakura, which I don't like. The route before this one had him stick to his ideals despite being given evidence of the despair it will lead to. Yet here he tosses them aside without that, simply for one person.

Maybe badly written was too harsh. Shirou's fine, I like him more than in the first half of the Fate route, but he just doesn't seem to fit with the other instances of Shirou, and there were often times he frustrated me. Again, I did love his confrontation with Kirei though.

Now for the romance of this route. Shirou/Sakura. I'm sorry, but...I'm not a fan of this one. It's cute, even made me emotional at times. I think these two can have a great relationship. The thing is, I don't like how it happens here specifically. I think these two are way too dependent on each other, to the point that one can't live without the other. Just look at the bad ending where Rin kills Sakura and Shirou gives up entirely, or the normal ending where Sakura wastes away her life after Shirou's death. There's even a physical dependence due to the state of Shirou's body at the end of the route. It's honestly worrying how much they need one another.

I think they can grow past this, and I'm sure they do since the true end is a happy one. I don't hate their ship. It's my least favorite of the three, but I can easily see it being someone's favorite. Hell, I know someone for who it is. The ship isn't awful, just has some issues.

Back to the route as a whole, it is certainly the most ambitious, but I think they got carried away at times. It's certainly more geared toward horror as well, especially with those bad endings. Not that that's a bad thing, even if I'm not often into horror.

Summed up thoughts on the HF route: A spectacular finale to the VN, but it has a few hiccups along the way. There are a lot of great character moments and interesting ideas that make it worth the time. The true ending is beautiful as well. 8/10.

Overall thoughts on F/SN: A great time that I would recommend to anyone who can get it working on their computer. Fantastic characters and cool concepts drive what can be just decent writing at times, and the high points are really high. Definitely worth the lows. 8/10.

Quick add on for my thoughts on the prequel, Fate/Zero: An amazing first half that got me attached to so many characters, but it falls apart in the second half due to Gen Urobuchi's more problematic writing tendencies. Those have been discussed to death, so I won’t go into detail on them here, Still, the show has enough moments that make it worth watching. 6/10.

That's my experience with Fate so far. I'm about halfway through the first arc of FGO, so I'll make a thread summarizing my thoughts on each singularity when the time comes. Also I want to read Fate/Hollow Ataraxia if I can. Overall I can say I’m glad I got into this franchise, and I’m excited to engage in more Fate content.

Anyway, this review took me 80 minutes to write, and another 15 to copy over here. Clearly I’m pretty passionate about this franchise.

#fate #fate stay night #fate stay series #fate stay ubw #unlimited blade works #heaven's feel #fate stay night spoilers

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solschem · 3 years

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Just thought of a case closed like au where Tommy is basically Conan (important to note that the characters real name is Jimmy, but when he becomes a kid he uses the name Conan)

In the anime some dudes try to kill Jimmy, but it ends up making him a kid and only his inventor/ mad scientist friend knows (I’ll be referring to him as Doc). Because I never have an original thought, Dream is obviously the guy trying to kill him during exile and thinks he’s dead. Everyone else just thinks he’s off in exile or ran away. Now for some situations and dynamics I think might be cool. Also all of these will be anime logic cause it’s based off an anime. It’s all ooc now suffer through my rambles

You know that library scene where Jimmy has to think of a new name? I am absolutely keeping that it’s an requirement. Tommy finds Techno’s house and Techno discovers him in the attic. Tommy ends up backed against the bookshelves and sees the Iliad and Odyssey, and so when asked for his name he says Homer.

If Techno doesn’t realize it’s Tommy it would be like Richard and Conan, but if Richard was actually competent. Tommy might try to lead techno towards his and l’manburgs enemies. Techno would definitely notice, but he cares about the kid and entertains the thoughts until he realizes that there might be a point

honestly i just want to see techno doing his usual stuff and Tommy ends up following along. Most of the time causing trouble for techno, but sometimes he thinks something kinda pog and joins in on whatever destruction techno is doing (i know this makes techno one of those anime villains that occasionally team up for the greater good, but like that’s the point. Case Closed is an anime with the biggest case of anime logic like it’s the only way. Our favorite pig has to be reduced to this I’m sorry not sorry)

Also I know that a competent Richard just wouldn’t be Richard but shhhhh let me have this

If Techno does realize he’s Doc. Like that inventor dude is perfect. Just tosses Tommy some potions and golden apples. Mainly lets him do his own thing, but as they get closer helps out a little. Definitely gives Tommy maxed out netherite armor practically immediately.

Honestly whether Techno knows or not he’s still like Doc, but I think if he doesn’t know then he’s going to be a little more like Richard.

Dynamic with Phil could go in 3 main ways

Phil instantly knows because he’s immortal and has seen everything. He does some research to figure out how to turn him back, but he’s not too bothered and is in no hurry. Just mainly laughs and makes fun of him, especially if Techno doesn’t know. (Once Tubbo and Ranboo adopt Michael he takes the opportunity to bother Tommy and runs with it. Just sends him off for a playdate or comparing the two when Tommy does something childish)

Phil doesn’t know but has seen this before. He eventually finds out and laughs about it, but techno would probably already know. Very similar to the first one, but shock value. I think it would be really funny

Phil doesn’t know and didn’t think it was possible. Maximum shock value and maybe some emotive wings thing here. Techno most likely knows, but would also be funny if he didn’t. Just the child that’s been living in his home is actually one of the dudes that betrayed him. (I think it would go with if Phil was the one to find him in the attic when he said the fake name. Just techno already knows and is slightly freaking out and Tommy just giving the worst name ever. Phil would definitely know that something is up, but he trusts Techno.)

Butcher Army things

Just doesnt happen for plot reasons, which is valid but come think of the drama and angst

If they come before Tommy is there then honestly it’s just the same plot, but Techno is even more cautious of Tommy, especially if he does know he’s Tommy. But also imagine he comes home from nearly being killed, and a random child he’s never met is there. He knows that Homer isn’t his real name, but he’s too tired to care and he’s not so heartless as to leave a kid out to die. No deal or partnership is made, just Tommy being told not to steal anything and to make himself useful. Basically just treated like Edward and allowed to exist in the same space.

If they come while Tommy is there we know that Tommy won’t just stay hidden. He might get spotted in a window, he might rush out, he might be outside when they come, or my personal favorite

As they’re taking techno away he might grab a bunch of random potions and weapons and run after them. Would most likely be caught and used as a hostage, but I bet people would be a lot more uncomfortable with a kid as the hostage (might even make some people second guess about l’manburg). But what if he is successful, and Techno is saved by a little Tommy/Homer. But what if Techno sees a random kid he doesn’t know show up with his own potions and spare weapons and helps him escape. It would be the greatest thing ever with Techno’s ultimate equivalency thing. He owes this kid a favor, which could lead to techno being more active in finding out what happened to Tommy.

The library scene still happens cause it’s a requirement, but it happens after everything with the butcher army. So this either smooths over the whole thing of him actually being Tommy, or Techno doesn’t press on being told an obviously fake name. Either way techno would let him stay, but imagine the hijinks if techno doesn’t know

imagine the angsty moment when techno realizes that ‘Homer’ knows more about what’s happening to Tommy than he’s letting on and Techno gets frustrated and yells at him about if he really wants to find Tommy and the truth comes out

True Case Closed fashion would have some complicated plan to withhold his identity but this is Tommy and Technoblade we’re talking about. Without massive outside help that wouldn’t be happening, and even then it would just make Techno even more suspicious

Scenario for if techno doesn’t know: he notices how similar ‘Homer’ and Tommy act and wonders out loud how old Tommy is. While he knew that Tommy was young, he didn’t think that Wilbur would have child fight in multiple wars and be vice president. Cue Tommy being flabbergasted

I know that has fix-it fic vibes but they exist for a reason. Let me imagine conflict resolution in peace

Imagine all the complications on people trying to figure out how Techno knows ‘Homer’

Crackfic style: When Tommy is asked why his name is Homer he in a panic tells people that his father really liked Greek Mythology. With all of Techno’s mythology references and Tommy being around him a lot people think Techno is his dad.

The confusion, the misunderstanding. Phil congratulating techno and confronting on not being told, Phil knowing and laughing at the ridiculousness.

Makes the most sense with if Techno already knows, but if he doesn’t he would probably have a talk on how he’s flattered, but that he shouldn’t be a father and blah blah blah. Maybe a talk about being equals? idk this is already in crackfic area it doesn’t make sense

People think they’re brothers. Honestly a lot of different ways this could happen, but would still be funny.

Nephew!!!!! Would honestly be less likely to be disputed by Techno, but he probably still wouldn’t be a huge fan of it. Might follow after the dad rumor as who else would be that into mythology than Techno’s family?

Family friend’s kid. Probably the cover story and where they end up with, but leaves a lot of room for speculation. What family? Who would trust him with a child? Is he just trying to hide his true relation? I view dsmp as basically a soap opera and by god I will make it even more of one

Most likely: a combination of everything. everyone has a different idea and no one knows the truth.

If Tubbo was the one to know he would be the tech guy, but not like Doc was. He would be fully involved in helping Tommy get back to normal

Phil might find out if Tubbo asks suspicious questions

Tommy would get a front row seat to Tubbo and Ranboo getting married and he would be happy for them but would not stop complaining

People might think Tubbo is grieving by helping out a kid that acts a lot like Tommy

When confronted on where the kid came from he might mention how he told Jschlatt that he was pregnant and how could everyone else forget?

Honestly ghostbur might bring that up and they just roll with it

When Michael comes around will absolutely tell Tommy to go “play with his brother”. Would be kinda similar to Phil with teasing Tommy about that, but more exaggerated. People might find out due to the teasing

Ranboo

insert the million ways he can find out due to techno or tubbo

He moves in after doomsday and figures it out by ‘Homer’s’ mannerisms

Maybe he sees Tommy become a kid and comes to the conclusion that the only place safe is with Phil, which leads to Techno basically taking care of him

Would be so awkward but imagine the begging and explaining. Doesn’t make sense in terms of the smp but anime logic

Butcher army drama intensified as Tommy is captured. Would fight whoever tries to hurt Tommy.

If we go with true case closed style Tommy would secretly pass supplies to Ranboo, who secretly passes them to Techno with some dramatic speech and a soccerball, but that doesn’t quite fit here.

Might have Tommy stay at his L’manburg house and it all goes terribly. They eventually go to Techno’s together cause i like the plot line

In this case Tommy might find out about Ranboo unknowingly being involved with Dream

Would put Tommy in charge of watching over Michael when the syndicate comes to snowchester

If Tommy shows up when he’s already moved in it would be extremely complicated to explain but I don’t think they’d mind all that much? Techno wouldn’t like him stealing his stuff, but it’s less aggravating when it’s a child who probably had to steal to live. And anyways they took in Ranboo, who is basically a kid in need, and so how can they get mad at Ranboo for doing the same? Techno and Phil would let them be with the occasional offer to bring food, or let them stay while Ranboo makes an actual house

Tommy is probably there when the disc is found and there’s a whole range of scenarios to do there take your place

During Techno and Ranboo’s adventure for sponges and totems Phil would offer to watch Tommy.

Insert what happened with Rachel almost figuring it out, but Phil isn’t fooled. He responded to the name Tommy and the signs are there. He has a long talk with Ranboo and Tommy about what’s happening when he gets back

Ranboo would absolutely try to pull off complex plans to get people not to notice, but because it’s Ranboo they believe him or ignore it. Tubbo would definitely press a lot more than others, but I don’t think Ranboo would break. He has no moral backbone but this isn’t for him to tell.

Insert Tommy in a panic tells the syndicate his dad liked Greek mythology and Techno makes the comment of him not knowing that Ranboo liked mythology too. Phil would make the joke too, not mattering if he knows or not

Michael

Just thinks Tommy/Homer is fun to be around.

They get into trouble together, especially if Ranboo and Tubbo don’t know he’s Tommy.

If they do know he’s Tommy they’re pissed

Craziness for who knows about Tommy and/or Michael

Tommy and Techno are worried/and or suspicious about Ranboo so one day they follow and find out about Tubbo and Michael. The syndicate checking out snowchester is so much more comical as Techno pretends not to know.

Circle of secrets as Phil, Ranboo, and Tommy knows about Tubbo and Michael. Only Techno and Tommy know that ‘Homer’ is Tommy. Tommy is the only one who knows everything and absolutely holds it over techno’s head. Everyone knows that something is up, but asking would mean reveling their secret as well

yes this is the most anime like scenario that’s why im bringing it up

Phil would be most likely to just casually drop Tommy off with Michael. Techno might if push comes to shove. Tubbo would do so momentarily. Ranboo wouldn’t want to, but might end up doing it the most because he’s worried about people hurting Michael.

Now what makes this like Case Closed is the attempt to get Tommy back to normal

aka it barely exists

Conan becomes normal momentarily a few times but then gets back to being a kid. It just keeps on going. The show is still running.

There’s this attempt to go after Dream but it never really works, Dream might never find out. He somehow ends up in the prison anyways and still nothing happens

It’s just frustrating and nothing ever really happens we’re just all suffering

#tommyinnit #technoblade #ranboo #dsmp #my post #dedicated scroller #high effort #this took so long #ive literally been writing this all day #i put way too much effort into this #but i hope people enjoy #just remember that this is completely ooc #like thats the point

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hs-devote · 4 years

Text

15. L O V E I S I N T H E A I R

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

Previous chapter;

The tape was five minutes long and it was intense. Harry didn’t show his genital but the woman's bare chest was everywhere. Yes, their entire body wasn’t exposed but it still made her uncomfortable. They seemed to enjoy it very much and no doubt or worry was shown when the recording was made. She could clearly identify Harry right away and the lady was pretty. Y/N felt she had seen the woman somewhere but she couldn't put a finger on it. He was rocking the woman so hard made the headboard banging loudly against the wall. Their naked top was on display but the duvet covered them from his waist until down. They were so loud made she could feel their intensity.

15. LOVE IS IN THE AIR

It was 9 p.m when they had just left the office. The meeting was long and tiring since they had to devise some plans to anticipate the impending impact on Erskine. Harry and Y/N weren’t surprised when the faces of the directors were slightly different while looking at him. The couple assumed that they already knew the gossip. And of course, Harry had to clarify without justifying it.

The street that night was still crowded and a bit jammed made Harry's fatigue increase. He was tired of work and wanted to get Y/N's house quickly and then he would get home immediately. He grunted when the car could only move forward a little. Being stuck in traffic made him spacing out about what had happened to him in the past few weeks or months. This was one of the hardest things he faced while being in the work-life. Not only his work, but also his personal life.

While Harry was busy behind the steering wheel, Y/N who was sitting beside him suddenly remembered what Victoria had said that time. She thought back her words about Harry forced his girlfriend for a sex-tape at that time. As this case arose, her curiosity increased.

She was a bit hesitant to say it but she had to try, or her curiosity would haunt her. "Harry, I just remembered what Victoria Selley said when she came to the office. I forgot to tell you because our conversation at that time wasn't important."

“You met her? I don’t remember her going to Erskine after her first visit?” he asked, glancing at her every so often while turning the wheel. He sighed in relief when the road was less packed.

“She came when you were taken away by the police, not long after that if I’m not mistaken.” She shrugged, “We didn’t really talk about the work or anything related. She refused to talk to me and asked for you. Of course, I didn’t tell her where you gone. I convinced her but she still refused and even accused me of sleeping with you because I was so defensive about your whereabout. She thought I hid you from her.”

“She’s not wrong though. You were fucking me." He joked, "Well, she was a possessive and jealous person so it's not strange if she was like that."

"She's obsessed with you, H. I could feel it." She rolled her eyes, "But, did you know what she did? She was accusing you of being an abusive man and you had a habit of making a sex tape with your girlfriends! And she said you weren't hesitant to hit them if they didn't obey you."

He frowned, eyes squinting while biting his lips. He said nothing as his hand straighten the wheel when the car entered her apartment complex. “I didn’t make that with her if you want to know.”

“I know, H. She also told me that.”

The car stopped when he parked next to a silver sedan. He unbuckled his safety belt but the soft roar of his McLaren engine was still heard. His fingers were tapping to the wheel, "What kind of conversation did you have with her? Why does she sound like she was spitting out unimportant things?"

Y/N stared at him who also looked at her, "I just said to her that you were out of the office and I didn't know when you would come back. She started to act like I was hiding you and protecting you from her. She said we have affair and you're not as kind as I thought. She began to ramble about your bad past including your hobby of making sex tape even you had to force those women.”

"Well, about the sex tape. I would admit that. Yes, I made a sex tape with my girlfriend at that time but it was pure for a personal documentary. Nothing more. I did that when I was in my bachelor study and I did that no more than four times, I swear. I don't even have the tape anymore. I immediately deleted it when I was about to graduate." He clarified, "But I never laid my hands on them for the tape, never."

“You had other three sex tape?” she gawked at him, “And all happened when you were in university?”

Harry saw the look of disbelief from her eyes, and that made him quite insecure. He never thought this would drag him closer to his past that himself was disgusted with. His head felt throbbing like someone had punched him with a hammer.

"I did four. Yes, when I was in my first and second year. I had deleted the three since I was the one who kept but the other one wasn't in me." He shook his head, "But, how come she knows all that? I never told her anything about that."

He began to get suspicious about what Victoria was talking to his girlfriend. When he was in a relationship with Victoria, he never brought it up. And impossible for him to talk about the disgrace of his own past.

“She said that one of your ex-girlfriends is her best friend. And she was being told that you’d love to record that thing when you had sex.” She shuddered, “Which I don’t believe, at the first.”

“Absolutely bullshit. I never once force them. I admitted about the sex tape but I never force or laid my hands on them for the tape.” He scoffed, shaking his head on Victoria’s crap, but he quickly thinking something so fishy for him, “I don’t know I dated her best friend. This is ridiculous.”

Y/N nodded, “So, you were dating your ex-girlfriend’s best friend. The world seems so narrow.”

“Did she know she dated her best friend’s ex-boyfriend though? Don’t you girls like a sister code? Like never date your best friend’s ex or something like that?”

“I think she knew?” she mumbled, “But, that’s none of my business, H. I once asked her why she still dated you when she knew about that, she just said she believed you changed when you were with her. She also clarified that she dumped you because you cheated on her, with having a one night stand.”

"What an utter crap. I dumped her because I didn't like her attitude," he deadpanned, "She was the one who had her hands wandering to another male, not me."

"Okay, I don't want to hear from her again. Any news from Allen about the tape?"

“He’s still looking for the woman in the video. But, he told me that a mysterious man sold the tape to the media who first published the news. I’ll also sue the media who bought it.”

“Is there a possibility that the woman sold the video to him first?”

Harry shrugged, “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it once we found her.”

“Are you not keep in contact with her? I mean, it’ll be easier if you’re the one who approached her.”

“No, I don’t have her contact but I remember her name.”

“And her name is?”

“Elle. Elle Powell.”

Y/N's eyes widened when the name slide out from his mouth. The name was popular. Ridiculously popular. No doubt she had a feeling she knew the woman. Who didn't know Elle Powell? It wasn't surprised if the news became the main headline of several online news. Not because Harry alone was involved in the scandal but there was another name who also highlighted.

“Are you kidding me? Elle Powell? The fucking model?”

Her jaws dropped while Harry stared at her confused, he looked at his girlfriend like she just grew a horn. Elle was one of some women he dated while in university and the woman on the tape. He didn't aware that she became a model and he never wanted to know.

"A model? I don't know she's a model now. All I knew is she studied Philosophy when we were in Cambridge and I heard she moved out of the country in the third year." He frowned, "How's she a model here?"

“You didn't know she's a model? Really? She walks for Burberry and Prada!” she cried out, “She's also besties with the Jenner.”

Elle Powell was a British-Brazilian popular model not only in the U.K, but also in the U.S. She walked a lot for world-famous brand and rumoured to be a Victoria’s Secret angel. She was effingly beautiful, her friend's circle made her even more famous. She was close to the Kardashian-Jenner clan, not to mention a few experienced supermodel.

“I don't even care.” He mumbled, “That might aggravate the situation.”

Y/N shook her head, didn't think this would get any worse. The woman was a popular model and she believed this scandal would be easier to blow off. Her head felt like it would explode when thinking about all these problems. She didn't understand why Harry could be this strong. It all started with Dale filing the violence accusation, then the unknown messages, the falling of Erskine's clients, and now the sex tape. All because of Dale, except...

Hold on.

It was Dale, wasn't it? - her inner goddess gasped

“Harry. Something's fishy here.” She mumbled, “This was the first time Dale filing a case against you, right? I mean, you once punch him the night after gala dinner but he didn't anything. Then, he sued you for hitting him in the night club. Why is he only doing that now? Why he didn't sue you right after the night's gala accident?”

"Because he had CCTV footage from the nightclub while he couldn't ask the footage from the gala, even if there were people there. It couldn't be used as solid evidence." He sighed, "But, yes I agree. Everything is very coincidental and that makes me suspicious."

“What if this is all Dale's doing? What will you do?”

“I just hope he won't go any further if he wants to be safe.” . . . .

Allen had submitted the file regarding blackmail messages and all the evidence that led to Dale. Now, both Harry and Y/N just had to wait while they working on another case. They had been distraught since many companies were backing out because Harry's sex scandal had been up to the public. The Erskine legal team was asked to focus on the company while Allen tried to contact Elle's management.

Elle's management was very cooperative when Allen contacted them. They already knew about the scandal and currently asking for confirmation from the model. Unfortunately, Elle was still out of the reach.

Erskine itself has begun to get worse. Harry could no longer stand to see his employees threw disgusted glare to him although their mouth was shut closed. Who dares to talk about their boss?

The man felt he was going crazy from all these problems and now of the many Erskine's clients, only a few that they could save and it could be count by fingers. This was the lowest point he had ever experienced throughout his career. He was ashamed of his family, with the degrees he received from Cambridge and Stanford. Moreover, he was ashamed of himself. It never occurred to him what was left for him, it was a backfire for himself.

His sleeping schedule was messed up. Really messed up. If everyone worked during the day, he would sleep since he worked up all night. A night for him was daylight, and the daylight for him was the time for he drifted to sleep. It wasn't surprising if he forgot to take his medicine. He might forget when the last time he took it and he should have had new prescription by now. Of course, he kept grumpy and couldn't control his temper, making Marcel happy to switch positions.

That's why now Y/N took her boyfriend for a long walk in St. James', not really only the two of them but she asked Niall to help with Harry's temper. Since Harry became super busy, he had missed his therapy and it worried her a little. She also knew that Marcel would have refused if he was asked to see Niall. So, Y/N thought to bring the Irishman over and do their session like having a normal conversation than a therapy session.

The park that afternoon wasn't so crowded. Harry's mood also looked better so it wasn't Marcel there, she kept praying Marcel wouldn't ruin the day. The woman looked out Harry and Niall talking a few steps in front of her while she didn't want to disturb both of the men. She just watched them from behind while enjoying the fresh air.

Little she did know Marcel didn't like it at all. He just watching from the darkness.

"You don't even take the medicines and didn't come to me. You look skinnier, you know?"

Harry sighed, "I'm sorry for that. I try to balance work and life. I'm exhausted for real since I have to work out a lot of problems now."

"You know you have Y/N now, right? Share your thoughts and I'm sure she won't be mind. She will definitely help you." Niall advised, "She's not only your employee to do the work, H. She's your girlfriend too. Let her in."

That's the problem. Harry never really let her in. He always thinks to himself and that made him anxious; the overthinking that disturb him whenever he was about to fall asleep. He only let Y/N saw the way he exploded his temper, not showing how depressed he was because he didn't want to burden her.

"It's just the two of us now, H. Y/N is far behind. So, tell me everything that bothers you."

Harry tilted his head towards Niall who now looked at him. Niall's blue eyes gave him encouragement and assurance. As always. He sighed before lowered his head, looking at his footsteps. Both his palms in his pockets felt sweaty while he was thinking to spill whatever he thought right now and in past weeks. He lifted his head, jogged his shoulder before looking around. He smiled faintly of how his Y/N chose this place rather than a restaurant or wherever. Nature always had its way to calm the human nerves.

“This gonna be long, I guess.”

“I'm all ears.”

Later that night, Harry was more relaxed. After they got back from the park, Harry fell asleep and woke up at dinner. Y/N temporarily stayed at Harry's penthouse to look after him in case Marcel did something. She was preparing the dinner when Harry watched Netflix on TV, and made sure her boyfriend away from his laptop. Or, he would go back on working something.

When she was about to call him for dinner, Y/N saw Harry on the phone. Her smile got bigger when she realised Anne was the one who called him. She slowly sat next to him, watching him smiled when talking to his mother. This was the first time Harry has smiled since the problems got bigger.

“I'm fine, mum. Really. You don't need to worry. I'm sorry I messed up Igor's legacy but I'm trying to get it back to normal.”

"I don't know. I forgot and now you called me I just remember it's only a week from now. I don't even know if we can do that."

“I know, mum. Maybe I'll think about it and let you know before the deadline?”

“Okay. I love you, mum.”

"Dinner is ready. I made your favourite." Y/N hummed after Harry ended the call.

"Thank you. Anyway, mum sends her hello to you." He spoke, put his phone on the table. His big hand took her small one, led them to the dining room. His eyes closed smelling the aroma of dishes that look delicious.

“Thanks. It feels like ages ago since the last time I saw her.” she nodded while fetching his food. Harry thanked her once he got his full plate.

“H, does Anne know about all.. these problems? I mean, your article is everywhere?”

“That's why she called me earlier. She read all the news but fortunately didn't see the video.” He shrugged, “Which I'm grateful now. She would be more upset if she watched them.”

"And she reminded me of my cousin's wedding next weekend. Since it will be in Mexico, I don't know if I can come." He added, "Mum told me to think about it. She said it can be a short escape for me."

"I think Anne has a point. I mean, Mexico is quite far from the U.K. It's quite good for you travelling afar from here to relax. You don't have any meeting next week. You can take a few days off." she advised, "If you're worried they will talk about you, believe me, it won't happen. They're your family, and it's a wedding!"

Harry said nothing after that, just eating his food while thinking about it. He didn't want her cousin upset if he didn't come to her wedding but it didn't sit well with him if he left his company at a time like this. Well, he had the best employees at their level so why didn't he entrust them for only a few days?

"I'll check the invitation and my schedule. If we have a chance, we'll go there."

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows.

We? What did he mean by us? – her inner goddess widened her eyes

“Of course, I'll go with you, darling. I will have no date if I come alone.” Harry chuckled seeing his girlfriend stared at him bewildered.

"You.. want me to come with you?" she asked in a small voice, couldn't believe what she just heard. She wasn't even sure if she was invited.

"Correct. The invitation is for me and the plus one which is you. It's Lisa's sister who gets married so at least you know each other."

“And bring some bikinis since it will be a beach wedding.” He smirked.

. . . .

Y/N didn't know if this will be a good idea or not. For the past few days, Harry, or Marcel was being awful. She didn't understand why Marcel was more dominant when Harry had already taken his medicine and slowly get his sleeping schedule back at normal. Even herself almost couldn't distinguish between Harry and Marcel because he was very good at manipulating. As in the past three days, Y/N could count how many hours her boyfriend had in his body and that wasn't nice.

Meanwhile, Marcel really enjoyed his time in Harry's position. He was satisfied with yelling to everyone who upset or angered him. It boosted his pride and ego, obviously. He had been there for days and he would play well if he didn't want Harry to take the position yet. He was tired of succumbing to Harry. Because of that, he pretended to be Harry so that everyone would believe him. Even he managed to have his eyes brighter than usual; close to Harry's.

As now, he was in an impromptu meeting with several of his directors. He wanted to curse their stupidity but he couldn't do that or, Y/N would be suspicious. He didn't care if they would judge him as bipolar. A minute he was good, a minute later he would be a bad-tempered man.

"This meeting is dismissed, gentleman. Thank you for your time." Y/N smiled before picking up her iPad.

“They must be tired.” Marcel spoke after everyone left them alone. He was still in his chair, watching the woman in front of him cleaning the table from the papers.

“At least these days they didn't overwork like before.”

"It's because they gave up on the client."

Y/N frowned, Harry never said something demeaning like that. This wasn't the first or second time Harry had to underestimate his employees. This past week, he didn't show any excessive temper, but often scoffed at them like it was normal. Harry almost never did it unless they have to be reprimanded.

“Why did you say that?”

He shrugged, “Because I'm telling the truth. We wouldn't lose more if they wanted to work harder. They should be ashamed of you because you were working late lately and they weren't.”

“We shouldn't talk like that behind them” Y/N shook her head, “I'll go back to my office.”

Marcel exhaled loudly, pinching her bridge nose after Y/N closed the door. It was easy to pretend to be Harry, but not when he had to deal with that woman. She was too smart than he thought. He even didn't sure whether Y/N knew that he wasn't Harry or not. But, from the way she behaved, his guile has been going smoothly.

Then, he remembered how she handled the meeting earlier. She talked more than him who just kept quiet and watched because he wasn't interested. Marcel always underestimated every woman Harry used to be date. But, this time he had to acknowledge her ability.

Marcel didn't realise he was thinking about Y/N until the sun had set and the sky was already dark. He didn't know he was daydreaming about her that long.

When he walked past Y/N's office, he saw her door was open. Without making the slightest sound, he peeked inside and saw that his girlfriend still busy and a little frustrated in front of her screen. Her hair was tied in a high bun with sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, the sound of a song accompanied her in solitude at that time.

Y/N was already very sleepy but her work was almost done just a little more. Keeping in her mind, she could go home on time tomorrow onwards. Her eyes had ached from staring at the screen for too long but she cheered her up and continue her work.

She startled when a cup of coffee placed next to her mobile phone. A sigh of relief came out of her mouth when her eyes recognised the familiar ringed fingers coiled in the cup along with her favourite perfume on him.

“Thank you, H.” Y/N took the hot drink but her eyes were on Harry, slowly pressed her lips to the tip and let the liquid ran down her throat.

“You can finish them tomorrow morning, you know.” Marcel leaned casually in the front seat of her desk. His eyes were still watching the woman enjoying the drink.

Marcel wasn’t lying that the woman in front of him was beautiful and charming. Maybe she wasn’t as pretty as Harry’s previous girlfriend, but she had things that make her different.

“I know. But, I have to get them done so I won’t have any work to pile up for the next few days.” She yawned before rubbing her tired eyes, “Finished soon.”

Shortly after, she sighed happily when the document was done, safe and secure in the folder. She was relieved because no workload for the next few days so she could relax for and no burden when in Mexico later. Little did she knew, Marcel watched her every move.

“I thought you left me alone,” she murmured as she shut down her computer, “you’re not in your office.”

“Why do you think so? I couldn’t leave my girlfriend alone.”

“I tried to calling you but you never picked up.” She shrugged, “I was thinking about using Uber to home.”

“It's a crime if I let you go home this late alone, darling,” he whispers, “C'mon. Let's go home.”

“Let me finish my coffee first.” Y/N winked before sipping the last drop of her coffee. Marcel smiled sweetly and offered his hand to her, only for the woman to take and hold it tight.

The corridor was so quiet and creepy even though the lights hadn’t actually died. This was the umpteenth time she got home late but she still felt afraid when she was alone in the office at night. She whined sometimes why her building was so far from the main area made her still had to pass through many walls and corridors before setting foot in the lobby.

When they reached the main lobby, there was no one in the floor at all even security or the cleaning operator who supposed to be standby was nowhere to be found. The good thing was, they could act like an actual couple without having no care to worry. Marcel had her hand on him, tucking into his pocket. He was used to doing this – this wasn't the first time he had pretended in front of Harry's girlfriend. He even took the advantage to kiss them when Harry was weak. At first, he was uncomfortable but he got used to it.

“Do you want to stop by first for dinner or just want to order?”

“Why don't we just cook?”

He shrugged, “You're tired and cooking will only make you even exhausted.”

“All right then. I think Chinese take away would be fine.”

“But, I think I want my appetizer now.”

“What?”

A second later, Marcel pulled her face closer to him. Licking her soft lips before he pressed his mouth on hers. Y/N amusedly smile as she pulled her hand out of his pocket and grabbed his neck with both hands. Her jaw was held by Marcel when he deepened his kiss. They both softly hummed on each other; the way their lips collided into one was the best feeling aside from the union of their tangled bodies. But, what Y/N didn't know, wasn't Harry who was currently savouring her lips. . . . .

Mexico was beautiful as she imagined before. The warm air of middle May kissed Y/N's cheeks when she just landed at Cancun, her heart was impatient of the fresh sea breeze that she would feel within the next hour. She and Harry were the last guests to arrive in Riviera Maya, the place where Harry's cousin would get married. Other families had arrived first yesterday while they had to finish their work first.

According to her boyfriend, Kelly – his cousin, only invited families and some friends to attend her wedding. So, this would be more intimate since only the closest relatives were present.

Her eyes looking in awe when they arrived at the hotel where they would stay for three nights and also being the wedding venue. Good things they arrived at noon so she could enjoy the view that so spoiled her eyes. The place they would spend at, offered the natural beauty and traditionalism hospitality. It was a beach resort exactly in Mayakoba, the most luxuries one in the area. The eco-resort offered the rich of mother nature but still with five-stars services and facilities.

She never thought she would go along the river with mangrove forests all around while the resort was right by the beach. The soothing sounds of river and birds chirping made the mood and mind became calm. The ideal place for Harry to relax.

“The beach isn’t really accessible by foot. So, we have complimentary bicycles to get around.” Harry mumbled, “They should have been delivered to our villa.”

“I can see that. The river almost surrounding the villa but I can hear the waves from a distance.”

A private villa with its own pool and jacuzzi would be a place they would spend the next few days. Their bedroom and living room separated by a walkway with an outdoor bathtub in front of the small garden. Yet, her favourite thing was their pool overlooked to the mangrove garden and facing their bedroom, with terrace and sundeck on the left of it.

Yes, their Italian villa was exceptional but this one is something else.

“I love this place already,” Y/N sighed as she plopped down to the bed, “I would spend two weeks here if I could.”

“When Lisa told me Kelly was the one who chose this place, I never thought she would choose here. I mean, Kelly loves expensive things and there’s Los Cabos in the top tier.” Harry spoke while putting down their suitcases, “But, I must admit she has taste.”

“Definitely,” she agreed, “Speaking of Lisa. Has she come yet? I can’t wait to see her newborn.”

"We will meet them at dinner tonight. Clementia is here, too. She's staying with mum." He answered as his hand opened the refrigerator beside the bed, and took a coke.

“It’s been so long since the last time I met her.”

Harry nodded, “She can spare her time and come here for a holiday too. It’s nice to meet her again.”

“Are you hungry? We haven’t had lunch yet. I’ll order room service?” he added, looking at his girlfriend who was sitting on a hammock on the terrace.

"Sure!" she yelled in a smile, before averted her gaze to the mangrove garden in front of her.

. . . .

The waves that afternoon rolled to sweep the shore, along with serene orange hue painting the skies so beautifully. Several wooden chairs lined the beach area facing the rustic arch where the bride and groom would vow to each other in front of the priest and witnesses. Everything looked so pure and beautiful with the white decorations. Flowers and dim candlelight lanterns arranged in such a way as to add modest yet romantic ambience. Pictures of the bride and groom hanging on some dried branches stuck in the sand. Everything so flawless yet modest in their own.

Kelly and David, her soon-to-be husband, agreed to have their ceremony before the sunset and immediately have their reception right after. The pair also asked everyone to remain seated when Kelly enters, in honour of David's grandparents who were in a wheelchair.

All the guests were already seated filling the chair. David and the priest were already standing in the front and everyone was waiting for the bride to come. Y/N and Harry sat in the second row, it gave them the advantage to see the couple very clear. Speaking of Harry, the man himself was busy with Lucy who was sitting on his lap. They were both giggling around and engrossed in their own world. Lucy's parents sat right next to him. If Lisa was busy admiring her baby boy in her arms, her husband shook his head to see how attached his daughter is to Harry.

Once in awhile, Y/N glanced at him from the corner of her eyes, praising how handsome her boyfriend is. The businessman was wearing a navy suit with a black shirt underneath the fabric; hanging low to his chest, made his two cross necklaces peeking out among his swallow's tattoos. A pale cream-white boutonniere tucked on his lapel, identical with her corsage in the left wrist.

Y/N herself wore a baby blue lace dress. The dress featured a pussy bow collar and a sheer torso with short sleeves hung until her biceps. The skirt was only reached above her ankles, showing her shiny fancy sandals. She didn't want to slip in the sand if she wore high heels, so she opted casual footwear.

Soft music began to hum along with everyone’s head turned around, looking at the bride in the back ready to enter. Thomas slowly lifted Lucy up so the little girl wouldn’t bother Harry anymore. Unconsciously, Y/N grabbed Harry’s hand just as Kelly slowly walked down the aisle. The bride was so beautiful in her wedding dress, smiling widely to every guest. Her father also looked happy even though Y/N was convinced that the old man surely had a feeling of sadness having to let go of his daughter.

“Kelly’s so beautiful,” she murmured, smiling softly to Harry, “I bet she’s nervous wreck right now.”

“I heard she didn’t sleep all night. But, she looks fresh now.” He said while rubbing her knuckles, “Maybe Lisa forced her to sleep after breakfast.”

“Mhm. She indeed looked like a mess this morning.” She nodded, “But, still looked beautiful.”

During the ceremony, Y/N watched closely without releasing her hand from Harry's grasp. Everything went smooth and solemnly. No wonder many guests shed tears when the bride and groom read their vows, and laughing along when David did something funny. Without her noticing, all the time her eyes looked at the couple with joy, Harry looked at his girlfriend in awe. His eyes didn't focus on the ceremony but the woman beside him.

In his daydream, he saw them in black and white standing on the altar – staring at each other deeply. Ignoring all eyes on them. He saw himself lifting her veil once the priest announced them officially as a married couple, and kissing her so dearly. He saw the night skies were so clear and they were dancing under the starry night, barefoot in the soft sand. The sound of wild waves being their music for dancing all night long until their feet hurt. He saw them being the happiest couple and life happily until eternity.

Was that what he wants?

Does she want that too?

Hell, Harry did not doubt love for her. But, Y/N?

He was madly deeply in love with her yet he was scared to tell her. Is it wrong for him falling in love with her not even a year into their relationship?

Is it a crime if he was dreaming of a marriage with her?

Is it just a wedding fever?

Or, he really does mean it?

In his vision, Harry showed off Y/N proudly as Mrs Styles. The one and only who was captivate his heart, his love, and his world. He saw her always standing next to him in every situation. Even the worst one. He saw the two of them settle down and ageing together.

The roar of applause woke him up from his sweet daydream. He reflexively clapped his hands, and just realised that Kelly and David had legally and officially become a husband and wife. When he averted his gaze to Y/N, he frowned to find his girl shed tears without busy to wipe them. She still looked beautiful despite her red eyes and wet cheeks.

“Why are you crying, baby?” he murmured while his thumb wiped her wet eyes. The girl just shook her head, sniffling softly, “They’re so beautiful together. So happy, so in love. I’m just.. touched.”

Harry laughed softly, “Oh, darling,” bringing her head to lean on his shoulder, “Stop your crying or everyone will assume I hurt you.”

"You have indeed hurt me, H."

“I.. have?” he asked her dumbfounded, blinking a few times – didn’t understand what she meant. Slowly, Y/N brought her lips to his ear. He felt goosebumps around his body when her soft breath blew his earlobe.

“Yes, you were. You had no mercy on me last night until we broke the lamp.”

Oh…

Harry smirked after get what she meant. He arched an eyebrow, looking all smug and cocky, “You weren’t complaining last night. After we broke the hammock, it seemed you didn’t want to stop. We literally marked almost all place.”

“Not with the pool and jacuzzi.”

“Save the best for the last,” he shrugged, “But, the one in the bathtub was so dirty.”

Her cheeks reddened, “That was beautiful because the clear and starry night was being our roof.”

Both of them laughing softly before Y/N covered her mouth. They shouldn't be talking about their topic at someone's wedding. But, they couldn't help how funny yet sexy last night. Yes, that was wild and dirty. The couple couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Both of them were so eager until the hammock and the lamp destroyed. It was like every time they were on holiday, it became their tradition to had sex in almost every corner of the room or villa in this case. It was only the first night, they still had two more nights and who knew where they would do it again.

They didn't realise that only the two of them were left by the beach, everyone had left the place and headed to another site where the reception would be held. The sun has disappeared at the end of the ocean and the orange sky had become darker. Ready for the moon and stars replaced the mighty sun.

The couple walked hand in hand along the shoreline with other hand carrying their footwear. Feeling the cold wind hit their face and warm water kissed their feet. Say they were selfish for being busy with themselves enjoying the beauty of the dusk, while at the far end the reception would start shortly.

“Don’t even start, H. You don’t want your Gucci suit get wet and dirty of water and sand.” Y/N laughed when Harry playfully pushed her to the middle.

“Harry!” she shrieked while lifting her skirt so it wouldn’t get wet, “I really want to play with you but we still have tomorrow.”

“Too late, the tip of my trousers is wet already.”

Rolling her eyes, she pushed Harry away from the water. “We don’t want to late and being a centre of attention because we’re soaking wet, do we?”

Being the cheeky man he was, Harry just grinning before pulled her head to him with one hand. Landing a kiss on his lover's lips while the sky above them was darker than before, the moon shining beautifully yet wasn't compared with the girl in his arms. Their clashing lips was their main focus despite the soft waves hitting the rock to create a romantic atmosphere. Y/N threw her sandals away for her hands could sneak into Harry's soft locks.

“You have no idea how much I want to stay like this and looking over the stars above,” he mumbled in her lips, “But, we must still present there.”

Y/N cracked a smile before licking his wet lips, her eyes stared at the pair of green irises piercing into her soul, “I know. We can sneak out when people don’t realise our presence. For now, I think your mum is looking for us.”

“Well then,” he shrugged, taking her sandals and locking their hands together, “Let’s go, darling.” . . Please excuse some errors Talk to me :)

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #fic rec #fanfiction #romance

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komahinasecretexchange · 4 years

Text

Title: For Fools Rush In

Author: @magioftheseas

For: @yesplsnoticeme

Rating/Warnings: T+ due to references of hospitalization/human experimentation.

Prompt: hajime has talant au; professor and student au (kiiiind of but not really lol)

Author’s notes: This is probably the most bizarre piece in the exchange, but I had an idea and this is what happened. It’s also KamuKomaHina. Yaaaaay. The student/professor thing while functionally similar *is* still distinct and I apologize but I still like the idea of Kamukura being in charge of Class 77-B. I’m all about caretakers/babysitters. There’s also a considerable amount of focus on Kamukura and Hinata being brothers. Some family angst. But Komaeda is still very important. I feel like this could’ve been like, a lot longer, and there are some ideas I regrettably couldn’t fit in. Namely more characters. That might’ve ruined the focus even more tho. I hope it’s still good. It’s late-ish and on the long-ish side, so…uh. Hopefully the wait was worth it? I feel like I say that every time. Also due to technicalities with how the timeline works, you could argue it’s “non-despair” because Junko isn’t mentioned, but that feels uh…misleading. Hope’s Peak is ironically full of despair.

“Hajime. Where’s Hajime?”

It’s bright. Blinding. A sick neon green burns into his eyelids. Everything swirls. His head feels stuffed. So stuffed that it’s as if he himself is being pushed out. But, he has to maintain himself, even when being suffocated. He can’t, can’t, can’t lose now. Not when it’s finally over.

“Hajime. Where’s Hajime?”

“Calm down, Kamukura-kun,” a voice croons to him, gently wiping his face clean. Someone else is washing his feet. “You’ll see your brother soon.”

“I want to see him now.”

It comes across as a whine. He can’t help it. Somewhere between the implantations and the crowding, he has forgotten how to be mature and composed. He’s trembling now. The lights are blurring. Cables and cords are rattling.

“I want to see him, I want to see him, please, please, let me see my brother.”

“Kamukura-kun, calm down! Argh, someone get the sedative!”

“Let me see Hajime, let me see, let me see, let me see—!”

He panics when he sees a syringe being pushed into the IV.

“No—”

–

“Hajime? Hajime?”

His brother groaned as he was shaken. Back forth, back forth, back forth, quickened heartbeat, vibrations in the chest and throat, face pinching and twisting, brow furrowing, nostrils flaring, a stray eyelash tumbling off to the side, the body writhes and—

Hajime’s eyes open slowly. The hazel irises are now rimmed with red. They’re bloodshot.

“Is it…over? Am I finally talented?”

Hajime turns to him, exhausted and yet hopeful.

“Izuru?”

“Yes.” He nods. The words come automatically, no need for thought. “We made it, Hajime. Good morning.”

Hajime grins at him. It’s crooked and wrong, but the dimples are the same. Even with besmirched eyes and an unhealthy pallor, this is still his brother.

“Good morning, Izuru.”

I’ve only ever wanted you to smile like that again.

“Good morning.”

–

In the weeks that followed, his hair grew back and to absurd lengths. Due to the sensitivity of the strands, he refused to have it cut. It was now much longer than it had ever been, and meanwhile, Hinata Hajime looked more or less the same in spite of his eyes. He even retained several of his mannerisms from how he ducked his head when confronted by a strong gaze and how his leg bounced whenever he was anxious.

“You two recovered spectacularly,” the headmaster remarked, smiling warmly. Hajime flustered and nodded along, anxious but just as happy. “I think you’re ready to join the main course.”

“T-That,” Hajime nearly choked out. “That’s all I ever wanted.”

Headmaster Kirigiri gave a hum of approval.

“Class 77-A will be a good fit for you, Hinata-kun. I even let a couple of the students know so that they can help you integrate with ease.”

“T-Thank you so much!” Hajime burst with, bowing with deep respect. At least he wasn’t pressing his forehead to the floor, Izuru thought idly.

“You can get started right away,” Kirigiri says. “Kouichi, why don’t you show him the way?”

The man with his hat hanging low over his face smiled and nodded along.

“Sure, sure thing. Come on, rascal.”

“A-Ah, wait,” Hajime stammers and almost rattles the chair when he stands. “Uh, Izuru… Aren’t you coming?”

He remained where he was. Headmaster Kirigiri cleared his throat as the man in the hat had the dignity to look somewhat embarrassed.

“Apologies, Hinata-kun, Kamukura-kun,” Kirigiri said ever pleasantly. “The two of you will have to be in opposite classes. It’s a matter of propriety, you see.”

“O-Oh… Okay.” Hajime seemed a little put-off. But not terribly disappointed. He’s not surprised.

Even with talent, he likely remembers resenting that we were always in the same class to be compared and contrasted. It’s fine. It’s perfectly fine.

“I’ll be fine, Hajime,” he murmurs, giving only the sparest glance. “Please enjoy your schooling to the best of your new abilities.”

“Alright. If you say so, uh…” Hajime does still, looking up at the grinning man in the hat. “Kizakura-san…right.”

“That experiment really worked wonders, huh, kid? Alright, alright.” Kizakura clapped a hand on his brother’s back, not so subtly pushing him out of the office. “Let’s get going. I’m sure the good class is pretty excited to meet you.”

“Y-You think so?”

The door shuts behind them before Kizakura can give his response. Not like there’s any need for it. Izuru can already predict the entirety of that conversation. What a boring exchange it must be—perhaps even Hajime will feel the same.

“Kamukura-kun, as for you…” Kirigiri trails off. It’s here that his smile falls and he lets the nerves show. He’s uncertain. He’s clearly not entirely in favor of the proposition he’s about to offer.

“I know already,” Izuru said, waving his hand dismissively. “Class 77-B have been problematic as of late, yes? I’ve heard the whispers among the staff. While Hope’s Peak is not understaffed, it is difficult to find someone willing to take responsibility for such a destructive group. Even the Steering Committee is quite displeased.”

The headmaster almost seems to shrink, as inefficient adults are prone to do. Izuru has no sympathy, but he also has no reservations.

“Among the talents implanted in me are Coordinator, Tutor, Caretaker, Tactician, and Disciplinarian. While Hajime does also possess talents of leadership, I am the stronger option.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Kirigiri murmurs, almost uncomfortably. “The two of you are equally meant to be seen as Ultimate Hope.”

Yes. We are.

“There is no need for appeals or diplomacy,” he said simply. “I had already sworn my services through contract. This pretense at pleasantries is pointless.”

“I…see.”

Headmaster Kirigiri’s smile strained considerably.

“I suppose all that’s left to do is to properly introduce you.”

“No need.” He stood. He bowed. “I will find my way and introduce myself. A second party will only be a hindrance.”

“I do hope you are not so cold to the class,” Kirigiri murmured after him. “Even if they are a difficult bunch, you should still treat them kindly, Kamukura-kun.”

It doesn’t matter. All you really want is for them to be controlled. But I suppose happy cattle is ideal.

“Understood, Headmaster.”

As long as Hajime is happy.

–

Truth be told, adjusting to his new bloated sense of self still came with growing pains. He had to plug his ears lest the world’s muttering consume him, and while tying his hair back, he had to take care to not aggravate his overly sensitive scalp. It was an exhausting way to exist, but one he had taken on for his brother’s sake.

“Everything always comes so easy to you, doesn’t it, Izuru,” Hajime had spat at him in the past in an outburst. His normally kind-hearted brother, looking ready to cry. “We can’t all be that lucky.”

More needed to be used for the lesser, and thus Izuru was fine with how things turned out. Hajime had little, so Izuru had to sacrifice more to even the field, so to speak. It was fair. Just.

I don’t mind being a tool so long as Hajime can live life to his fullest. Of course, I do still have to be careful. I have to make sure Hope’s Peak doesn’t try to use him. And for that—I’ll take on everything.

He finds his way to the door for Class 77-B. It appears to have been moved recently, given how the building is different as is the floor. Likely not for the first time.

Izuru’s stare narrowed, and he sensed the chatter beyond the doors. A fraction of the class was present. He may have to fetch the others. How irritating.

But, more fortuitous, was the presence making his way from the opposite side of the hallway.

“Ah, excuse me…!”

More unfortunate was when that person tripped, slamming into the ground with an oof and causing several cans of soda to go scatter and rolling across the floor among many other miscellaneous objects. The person—the student whined, having crushed the box that all his belongings were in.

“A-Aha,” is muttered to the floor. “How unlucky.”

Izuru drew closer, picking up the cans of soda as he did, setting them steadily beside the mess. He began to tidy it up without another word as the student pushed himself up with a groan.

“A-And to embarrass myself in front of…” He trails off, and Izuru does not look at him to recognize the spark of interest and excitement. “Oh! Ooh! I haven’t seen you around before!”

“Starting today, I will be part of and in charge of your class,” Izuru answered, reaching out and straightening the box so that it was back in a usable shape. He went to returning the items inside, arranging them artfully. “Kamukura Izuru. My brother is in the opposite class.”

“In charge?” the other echoed. “Eh? You’re our age, aren’t you? N-Not that I mean to question an Ultimate of course! You must really be incredible, then, Kamukura-kun! Or, should I say san?”

“Whatever facilitates our relationship.” He does pause briefly to finally take the other in. Frail, unseemly, with a smile stretched too wide on his face. Long, unruly white curls and a sparkling gray-green gaze. Someone clearly battered by life—and someone that Izuru recognize due to infamy. “Komaeda Nagito. Ultimate Luck. Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re right! Absolutely right!” Komaeda gasped, the flush especially deep on his pale cheeks. “Incredible! Even for an Ultimate! Kamukura-kun, you’re undoubtedly radiant!”

Hapless flattery. How boring.

He takes the box with a sigh.

“And you’re late. Not to mention unfortunate, seeing as no one had any interest in carrying your things to the new classroom for you. Predictably unpopular, even among your peers.”

“Ah, yes, that…” Komaeda does falter, sheepish and easier to deal with. “That’s right, too. I’m quite worthless, wretched, and undeserving of kindness.”

“What a tedious perspective you have,” Izuru remarked, opening the door with his foot. “If you are any indication, this class much truly be a troublesome bunch.”

“A-Ah…” Komaeda squeaks as he walks in. The fraction of the class glances up.

“Ehhhh? Who the hell invited a cyptid?” one of them complains. Small, loud both in voice and the vibrant yellow of her kimono. Must be the Ultimate Traditional Dancer.

“Ah, Komaeda, there you are,” another mutters, irritated. Rather plain, freckled, impatient, but the camera around her neck was a clear distinction of the Ultimate Photographer. “You’re so late! I was wondering if you’d make it at all!”

“S-Sorry, Koizumi-san,” Komaeda mutters meekly, taking the box of his belongings from Izuru and shuffling to his seat. “Ehehehe.”

“So,” someone speaks up, brow furrowed and frown deepened, feet propped on the desk. A clear and immature attempt at intimidation. Ultimate Gangster, then. “The hell are you, exactly?”

“Kamukura Izuru. I was assigned to all of you as Kizakura-san is now too busy to deal with your antics. I suppose my title in this case should be…” He does ponder briefly before writing it down. “Ultimate Class Representative, I suppose is the most suitable, since I am still considered a student. However for you all, I shall take the role of instructor as well. I am aware that there are no lesson plans, but I shall discipline all of you regardless.”

“Ooh my!” a young lady exclaimed, prim and proper, so clearly the Ultimate Princess. “What an interesting arrangement indeed! I had no idea that students could also be professors!”

“N-No, actually Sonia-chan, that’s weird,” Koizumi tells her. “It’s not normal at all.”

“They really got so fucking desperate that they saddled us on another student?” Ultimate Traditional Dancer wondered. “Wow, this great Hope’s Peak is going to the dogs, huh?”

“Don’t say that, Saionji-san!” Komaeda exclaimed. “As unorthodox as this might be, Kamukura-kun is still an incredibly talented individual! I’m sure he’ll lead us well!”

“If Komaeda says so, I’ve got all the reason to doubt it,” Ultimate Gangster huffed. “This whole setup feels like a fucking joke.”

“You are free to find as much humor in this situation as you are able,” Izuru said. “Not everyone is here, however, so I suppose we should fetch them.”

“How exciting!” Ultimate Princess squealed. “How very, very exciting!”

Only Komaeda shared that excitement. Izuru noted this dully.

And this is only a fraction. I suppose, then, what transpires might actually be interesting.

Somehow, he doubted it.

–

“So, how was your first day, Izuru?”

Hajime is asking him a normal question. Inquiring normally as he used to do when the two of them spent time separated. Touching base, as people would call it. This kind of normalcy—was heavily missed in its time of absence.

“It was,” he said. “What it was.”

“Rough, huh?” Hajime does laugh, rubbing at his nape. “Sorry to hear that. For what it’s worth, one of the guys did give me a lot of trouble. Uh, the neurologist, I guess? Murasame was pretty nice but him… Not so much.”

“I am also sorry to hear that,” he replied. “Are you at least enjoying yourself, Hajime?”

“I… Um.” Hajime flushes. His eyes are twinkling. “Y-Yeah I think so.”

Then, everything is fine. Just fine.

“I had to gather up my class,” he goes on to say. “They’re quite rowdy. I had to break up a fight between two of them. Cancel the impromptu concert of another. Detain a cook. Deactivate a robot. Console the nurse’s crying assistant.”

All while Komaeda Nagito stuck by close. Avid and engrossed.

“That—sounds like a lot.” Hajime makes a face. “You sure you’re willing to handle all that?”

“While unquestionably troublesome, it is not too difficult.” He pauses. “I might even call it interesting.”

“If you find yourself struggling, you’re free to call on me for help, y’know,” Hajime said. “Since class isn’t required, I do have a lot of free time. Maybe I’ll check on your class at some point. I do just want to explore the campus a bit…more…”

He trails off, perking. Izuru, too, has already noticed. In unison, the two of them turn to the corner from where Komaeda flinches, nearly jumps.

“Aha! Of course I’d be noticed!” Flustering, he quickly bows. “S-Sorry, sorry! I was just passing by! Honest! Ah!” He smiles brightly. “Kamukura-kun, is this your brother, per chance? It’s very nice to meet you!”

“Oh, you’re…” Hajime scans him, eyebrows raising. “Are you alright? You’re pretty sick.”

“I-I’m fine! I’m still able to be out and about!” Komaeda exclaimed, now flummoxed. “While it’s incredible you can tell from a glance, I assure you that I am almost as capable as any independent individual should be!”

“O-Oh, right, sorry.”

Komaeda’s cheeks are puffed now. He’s pouting.

So, he is capable of various reactions.

“Komaeda Nagito,” Izuru speaks now, to get the lucky student’s attention. “Is there something you’d like to say?”

“Ah, I do truly apologize for my rude eavesdropping, it really was accidental, but…” Komaeda scampers up to them, eyes wide as he takes in Hajime. Hajime, predictably, blushes at the attention. “Your brother is amazing, of course, but you’re similarly impressive. I can tell at a glance.”

“C-Can you?” Hajime almost squeaks.

Oh. Izuru realizes it, and he’s struck. Hajime is flattered.

“Ah, right! It’s rude not to introduce myself! Kamukura-kun said my name already, but ah, it’s Komaeda Nagito. Ultimate Luck. So, should I call you Kamukura-san?”

“N-No, no! We have different surnames, actually, because of our parents… It’s a long story, you don’t need to hear it.” Hinata shook his head. “Hinata Hajime. Ultimate… Uhhh…”

“Hinata-kun! I actually happen to know my way around campus quite well!” Komaeda’s beaming. “I can show you around if you want.”

“Hajime,” Izuru speaks up, stepping in. “Is this alright?”

“Uh, is it?” Hajime blinked at him, confused. Even now he was dense. “Right, he’s like, your classmate, right? Do you mind?”

“He is…a member of my class, yes.”

“I-If you’re not okay with it, Kamukura-kun, I can back off!” Komaeda hurriedly exclaimed. “I-I just wanted to be helpful. I swear my motivations aren’t self-serving much less self-indulgent!”

“I—do not mind you helping Hajime.” Ultimate Conversationalist was not one of the talents I received. “I was merely making sure because I care about you both. In different ways.”

Komaeda’s cheeks flared as Hajime snorted, rubbing at his nape.

“Geez, Izuru, we’re not kids anymore. If it’s not a big deal, then, alright. Let’s go, Komaeda.”

“A-Ah, u-um, yes, of course… I’ll lead the way.”

Komaeda is wobbly now, knees shaking and ears red. Hajime frowns but Komaeda quickly laughs, waving off his concerns.

“Hinata-kun, a must-see is the old building! It’s a historical marvel for one thing, and the greenhouse still sees a lot of use!”

“O-Oh yeah, I might’ve heard of that. Shikiba apparently tends to it a lot.”

“The Ultimate Botanist, right?! But did you know that greenhouse was actually established twenty years ago by the Ultimate Farmer of the time? There’s even a little notice about how to care for the plants—although no one can make heads or tails of them. In fact, ah, they might not even be instructions. Something about stopping mangos from ruminating. And how porcupines shouldn’t wrap kale around apples.”

“Eh?”

“Bandai-san is still…a really peculiar person.”

“Aah, okay. That’s just characteristic of the former Ultimate Gardener. Impressive that you know so much about Hope’s Peak, Komaeda.”

“Ehehe, what can I say?” Komaeda seemed positively delighted. Izuru watched the two of them go, taking in those easy smiles. “I’m what you could call the Ultimate Fanboy.”

“I’m a huge fan, too, haha.”

Is this alright?

Izuru watched the two of them go, taking in how Hajime chuckled at Komaeda’s antics.

Surely, it must be.

–

Again, he has to incapacitate two students to keep them from being destructive. Unfortunately, he cannot do the same to the bear that now joins their class. It is docile for now, but a contained classroom may prove a stressful environment, and thus, Kamukura decided it would be best to have class outside.

And now those two students can fight to their hearts’ content. Kamukura can only hope that the bear is kept under control.

Hajime is the one with the talent of animal trainer, he thought. And I do not want to trouble him.

“So tense, Kamukura-kun!”

He doesn’t flinch as Komaeda flutters around him, innocent and inquiring.

“Even someone as incredible as you gets anxious, huh?” Komaeda brushes his hair back, tucking ivory strands behind his ear. His smile is bright. “You needn’t make a face like that, you know.”

“My expression is the same,” Izuru retorted. “It does not change.”

“How upsetting to hear, then, considering the expression you’re making.”

Saionji is twirling around, showing off to Koizumi. The bear does eye the yellow of her kimono, but it remains still as Tanaka mediates. Mioda is laughing, and she tumbles down trying to imitate the dancer. Tsumiki frets. Saionji rants. Peace is still overall maintained.

“Kamukura-kun.”

Komaeda prods him once more.

“Kamukura-kun? It’ll be alright. It’s Tanaka-kun’s talent, after all.” Komaeda pokes his shoulder. “You’re way too tense. Maybe we should sit by the fountain? I’ve always found the cold spray to be rather calming.”

He could only sigh.

“Try to be careful with how you speak to me, Komaeda Nagito,” he told him, pulling away. “While too much formality is dehumanizing, being too casual is simply dangerous.”

“Ah, sorry!” Komaeda waved his hands before frowning. “But I don’t think someone as clumsy as me can understand such a delicate balance, so don’t hesitate in punishing me for impertinence!”

A more typical response would be to request mercy, Izuru thought, deciding to just follow him to the fountain without another word. But Komaeda Nagito, used to scorn, must find it more comfortable.

“You put yourself down a lot, don’t you?” he asked once they seated. “No confidence at all? Is that because you feel like you do not belong?”

“I, well, I don’t belong,” Komaeda admitted. “I’m well aware of my inherent inferiority. While I admire Hope’s Peak for wishing to research luck as a viable talent, I… Even if it’s considered Ultimate Luck, it’s a sad thing to shape your life around, right?”

“Luck…” Izuru pondered that. “I have luck as well. The field of research on it is still quite premature, but…”

From what I heard, Komaeda Nagito could actually be considered instrumental in its progress. And yet. He’s still disdained and detested.

“Simply graduating from Hope’s Peak gives you the reign to do as you please,” he went on. “If your talent is truly that vague, you have choices, then, unlike any other graduate. Shouldn’t that be considered quite the privilege?”

“Ahaha. Haha.” Komaeda’s shoulders tremble. “You must be right, but… I do wonder.”

He’s utterly unconvinced. Does he—

Does he suspect that he doesn’t have that much longer to live?

“I can help you come up with a plan for your future,” he found himself saying. “It is among my talents—and you are my responsibility.”

“Oh, no, I could never ask Kamukura-kun for such…” Komaeda’s hands cup his face, eyes downcast. “Special treatment.”

“You’re a special case,” he pointed out. “For everyone else, their future is set.”

Komaeda wheezed. It might’ve meant to be laughter. Izuru wondered if Komaeda himself knew.

“It will be alright,” he said, then, recycling the words of before. “It is among my talents.”

Komaeda was quiet, mouth opening and closing. Like a koi, uncertain if it was going to be fed or not. Similar to a koi, it was possible Komaeda did not understand what was happening. That was—

A little endearing, perhaps?

“I-ZU-RU-CHAAAAAAN!!!”

Mioda nearly tackled him into the fountain, squealing.

“You’re supposed to be the big chief of our class, right?! Then quit being such a loner and join us!!” She grinned at him, sparkling with glee. “When I get a good look at you—I think drummer! Come on, come on!”

“Drummer is one of my talents, but…” He glances towards Komaeda. “Mioda, I am…”

“It’s fine,” Komaeda whispered, laughing softly. “I’ve monopolized enough of your time, Ultimate Class Rep.”

Huh?

“Come on, come on, come ooooon!” Mioda chanted, yanking him along. He doesn’t resist upon noting Komaeda’s flustered, insecure and diverted gaze. “Hiyoko-chan and I are going to braid flowers into your hair!”

“No promises on whether or not I’ll stick dead ants in, too!” Saionji added cheerfully. “Not like you’d notice with how mucky yucky the color is!”

“I would still notice,” he can’t help but mutter, but he hears another one of Komaeda’s laugh carried softly by the breeze. He’s much more complacent after that, but the feeling that consumes him is—significant. He’s sure of that if nothing else.

–

Truth be told, despite being destructive, Class 77-B is almost naturally social. Even with his added presence, he can tell they have taken to the idea of another person to bounce off of. Some of them are more reserved, of course. Komaeda was a weird mixture of the two. Outgoing when Kamukura seemed closed off and too quiet, but a lot more reticent when Kamukura did reach out to him.

A tricky case, but unsurprising, given that Komaeda Nagito truly had no friends. Even the other, more outwardly standoffish students still had at least one person whose presence they tolerated if not outright preferred. Kuzuryuu tolerated Souda. Tanaka preferred Sonia. Saionji adored Koizumi. Even the unnamed Imposter—who was imitating an animator at the time—was at ease around Mioda and Tsumiki.

Komaeda Nagito, however, was not so fortunate.

He did notice that the distance was maintained mutually. But also that Komaeda was often treated with a considerable amount of ire for his poorer social skills and utter lack of charisma. That he didn’t have any passions to share outside of Hope’s Peak itself was likely another factor.

Because. He seemed to get along with Hajime fairly well, as both of them shared that admiration.

“Matsuda-kun in particularly is definitely amazing! A neurologist at age seventeen! A real star-shattering genius!”

“Too bad he has a horrible attitude to go with it. He’s as cold as the vacuums of space. But, Murasame’s a pretty nice guy.”

“Ooh, Murasame-kun! There’s actually a former Ultimate Class President who just graduated! Munakata-san! He’s going to be in charge of the international branches of Hope’s Peak. He might even be the future headmaster!”

“Ooh, wow, for real? He’s only like…three years older than us, too.”

“He’ll be even younger than Headmaster Kirigiri was! Hope’s Peak is really full of incredible people! Ah, Hinata-kun, what are you going to do when you graduate?”

“Being a headmaster too might not sound so bad…even if Munakata-san has a head start…”

“Uwah! Such fire! I’ll root for you!”

“Ahahaha, t-thanks…”

Hajime was laughing, soaking in Komaeda’s passion and admiration. He was happy too, for what it was worth. Happy—and a little embarrassed with how open Komaeda was.

Hajime wanted to be validated for so long, he thought as he observed them from a safe distance. From behind the trees as Hajime pointed out a jet flying overhead and rattled off a bunch of facts and observations, to Komaeda’s delight. Obviously, just talent hadn’t been enough. He also needed someone openly encouraging.

He does wonder if this is alright. But with how at ease and content the two are, how could it not be?

Then, I—

–

I need to take care of this Komaeda Nagito, who makes my brother smile like that.

“A-Ah, um.” Komaeda blinks down at the stack of career files, shivering a bit from nerves and perhaps fear. “Kamukura-kun, this is surprisingly…aggressive.”

“The privilege of choices,” Izuru said, straightening the pile to keep it perfectly in order. He takes the first file. “Based on your interest in literature, there are many choices there. Agent, editor, writer… You could even study the subject more seriously. In that case, I have acquired many examples of solid capstone papers that you could learn from by example if essay-writing is not a strength.”

“Writing in general isn’t a strength,” Komaeda murmured, still staring rather dumbly at the pile as if it’d growl or consume him in a second’s notice. “My handwriting is terrible.”

“A symptom of dementia or dysgraphia?” Izuru asked, raising an eyebrow. He perked, realizing the tactlessness of the question. “You do not need to answer that.”

I can just find out through reading his medical records. But I must take care to not overwhelm him with attention.

“Um.”

Komaeda randomly selected a file and tried to carefully pull it without disturbing the others. Izuru assisted him, tugging it out with ease and without even shifting anything else out of place. Without even looking at it, he knew what it was.

“Painter,” he said. “Not the most economic choice but money is not a concern. And it can be quite therapeutic. Included in the file are styles that may suit you. Of course, that is a matter of subjective preference, but I did try to assuage what you would like.”

Komaeda nods along, flipping to a particular one.

“I do like this recreation of a tiger done with masking tape…but I definitely don’t think I’d be capable of something like that.”

“Some of them are more for inspiration than example,” Izuru admitted, and he does stop to wonder for a bit. “I apologize. They might not all be to your tastes.”

Komaeda laughs.

“I can appreciate these on principle, at least…” Searching through, he lights up at a particular one. “Ooh! This one’s nice! Way out of my capacity but very nice!”

Izuru looks at the painting indicated, and keeps his reaction internal.

It was a rather simple piece of several goldfish mouthing at the surface. They were in a dark cave, the only real light reflected off their orange scales. Despite the viciousness of their stares, they were pressed together stubbornly. Securely.

Hajime, too, had a strange fascination with this very work.

“What do you think it represents?” he asked, because back then Hajime had shrugged and unable to give an answer.

“Hope, obviously!” Komaeda chirped immediately. “Even in the darkness, the school shines together! Isn’t that beautiful?”

He wondered.

“It’s as good an interpretation as any, I suppose.”

Mine was not as charitable. To me, it’s a school of foolishness. Art is not meant to be objective. I suppose that can make it frustrating.

“Ah, this piece is from the Ultimate Painter who just graduated as well… How radiant…” Komaeda rambles on. Izuru lets him.

They do not get much done, but while Komaeda is apologetic, he still looks—content. Happy. Just to have been spent time with.

Ah.

–

“Peko-chan, Peko-chan! It’s gotta be you next!!!”

“I must decline, I apologize. Such things would hinder my training.”

“Awww!”

“I guess I’ll try it out, Ibuki-chan.”

“Yaaaaay Mahiru-chan! Okay, Izuru-chan, you have to make her nails extra, EXTRA pretty for both her and Peko-chan!”

“Alright, alright.”

Somehow, he ended up in this position. But it was as good as any to ask questions, especially when there was also Saionji and Sonia crowded around to admire. Tanaka, too, seemed curious as he got to work on polishing Koizumi’s nails.

“I don’t get this kind of thing done a lot,” she admitted, flustered. “But it’s not exactly a thing I’d expect a guy to understand, either.”

“Komaeda keeps his nails clean,” he says, almost idly as he picks out the dirt in the nail beds. “And this just happens to be a talent of mine.”

“You might have too many talents,” Souda griped. “Especially girly ones.”

“Don’t get all pissy because you’re a jealous, ugly slob,” Saionji sneered. “Beauty is something that everyone should appreciate, you know.”

“I-I wish I didn’t bite my nails so much,” Tsumiki murmured.

Komaeda’s name was ignored. Well, then.

Koizumi flinches as he shapes her nails.

“It does depend on your preferences, but aesthetic is a common ground that all people appreciate, albeit in different ways,” he goes on. “From the purity of untouched nature to the progress represented by sprawling technology. Just about any sight or sound can move a particular person.”

For Hajime and Komaeda, it’s Hope’s Peak.

Pausing, he indicates the selection of nail polish.

“Which color would you like?”

“I guess the light yellow?” Koizumi flusters. “Would that suit me?”

“Sunny yellow for sunny Mahiru-chan works!” Mioda chirps. “I agree!”

“We’d match, Mahiru-onee!” Saionji squealed, to which Koizumi smiled. That had—likely been her intent, given her personality.

Izuru got to work.

The color that would suit Komaeda Nagito is green but also red. Colors he already has a preference towards. But when I offered, he vehemently refused as it’d be a waste. Bad luck would surely result in the paint being chipped before long. Hajime, meanwhile, wouldn’t go for it at all.

He does blend the yellow into a brilliant orange, knowing that Koizumi did not care much for flower designs. She was called sunny, so it was appropriate. He was delicate in adding the flares of white.

The sun is a symbol of life. An inherent good. And, yet.

“For the other hand, would you prefer the same or something different?”

“Ah, what you’re doing looks fine, so…the same, I guess?”

I do wonder about symbols that are supposedly inherent goods.

“Komaeda should be with my brother right now,” he finds himself murmuring. “If any of you are curious about his whereabouts.”

“We’re not,” Mioda chirped. “I’m more curious about your bro, though!”

“Ah, yes, he is in the other class, isn’t he?” Sonia asked. “You must introduce him to us!”

“If he’s hanging around Komaeda though, I wonder,” Souda muttered. “But if he’s Kamukura’s brother, uh…”

“He must be a fine specimen indeed!” Hanamura exclaimed.

“Another singularity,” Tanaka murmured.

“Hajime is a kind person,” he says. “Komaeda likes him.”

“That creep drools over everyone with a talent,” Saionji snapped. “It’s suuuuuper off-putting.”

“B-But he must be a kind person if Kamukura-san says so,” Tsumiki murmurs.

“He is kind,” he reaffirms. “He…”

May like Komaeda as well.

His lips press into a straight line.

“He may like to meet all of you as well,” he decided to say instead. “However, please do not crowd him. He can get overwhelmed even if he likes the attention.”

“He doesn’t sound terribly reliable,” Koizumi said.

Izuru didn’t respond.

It is not as if he is unreliable, but… I…

–

I am aware that he is fragile.

“How do you think this looks, Izuru? Argh! This is one of my talents now, right?! Although thinking really hurts right now.” Hajime rubs his temples with a groan, he stares down at the bento he has prepared. Izuru, too, stares.

“It is perfectly decent and likely delicious,” he said. “Have you not tried it yourself?”

“I had while making it but sometimes so much information runs through when identifying the flavors that I just…get overheated. I guess all these talents have to have some level of drawback,” Hajime closed the box and began to wrap it up. “For Komaeda, it should be fine.”

Izuru blinked.

“For Komaeda, you say.”

“You don’t have to be an Ultimate Nutritionist to know that Komaeda’s diet could be better, although it helps.” Hajime bristled, then. “When I asked him about breakfast, he said he was fine just eating plain toast every morning!”

“Yes,” Izuru recalled. “He does tend to even get small servings when Hanamura cooks a meal for everyone. Though he says that’s because he wants the others to enjoy as much as they can. To his credit, there are quite a few who do.”

“He’s so careless,” Hajime griped. “I’m only making this to thank him for giving me a tour, but maybe I should…”

“You really like him, don’t you, Hajime?” he asked.

In that moment, Hajime stiffened, a flush spreading across his face.

“Wha—w-we still barely know each other, Izuru! And like, that might make things a little weird since he’s super attached to you, too.” Hajime scoffs. “He does fawn over you, by the way. He fawns over everyone in that class. It’s…everyone else says…”

“I am aware of my class’s reputation,” Izuru said. “It cannot be helped, what others continue to think.”

“Are they really that destructive?” Hajime asked. “Weird things do happen around Komaeda but that’s—not his fault.”

Weird things?

“What kind of things?”

“Oi, you’re just going to ignore—fine. Weird as in one time a truck crashed and it happened to be a food truck full of the rice crackers that Komaeda really likes. We got some for helping the driver out, and…apparently that wasn’t the first time a truck crashing resulted in Komaeda getting free food. No one got hurt, but Komaeda was still pretty shaken up. Another reason why I…” Hajime trailed off. “Well, I answered your question.”

“Yes,” Izuru did answer, nodding. “At times they are, but considering I can incapacitate them physically, they are less so. And I do give them other ways to burn that excessive energy.”

“P-Physically?!”

“They do not hold it against me,” he said. “A worthwhile opponent, I am called. I gain respect not resentment.”

“Geez, Izuru, it’s almost as if you have your work cut out for you,” Hajime said, grimacing. “That’s unlucky. Murasame’s so good at getting others to follow him that I never have to worry like that.”

“It is his talent, and it is also mine, so it is fine.” That said. “I do worry about Komaeda Nagito, but… He is happy with you, is he not?”

“Eh, happy? I mean, he’s pretty much always smiling but…” Hajime shook his head, laughing just a little. “Come on, Izuru, it’s not like you to be that concerned. But, I guess you also know what people say about Komaeda… And he’s really not that bad. I’m starting to think the people spreading those rumors have no clue what they’re talking about. Or—were you told to keep an eye on him?”

What answer are you expecting, Hajime?

“Is it that strange for me to worry?”

“A little.” Hajime shrugs. “I distinctly recall you being completely unwilling to talk to your peers before this. I remember some guys thought you were a mute.”

Yes. I remember, too.

“I suppose I’ve matured, then.”

“Yeah?” Hajime offers a wry smile. “Well, that’s a good thing. And I should be glad to see you making friends.”

Friends. No. That’s not my intention.

“Komaeda’s actually pretty nice, he’s just a little weird,” Hajime went on to say, brighter now. “I’ll keep a good eye on him. Don’t worry.”

I feel—unsettled. Why?

“Thank you, Hajime.”

Why, why, why? Shouldn’t I be happy, too?

–

Truth be told, he’s never been the best at understanding emotions, even if they were his own. They were intangible and vague. They could never be determined through logic. Even, so.

He had always been at least content with his brother even if he wasn’t terribly interested in everyone else. If he truly felt anything—he felt dull. Murky. As if everything was washed out and faded, the colors and faces leaking and blurring together into a muddle of grays.

But, Hajime was a bright presence back then. Eyes alit and more energetic, more excitable. He had always been happy to show off, and he had an infectious smile. Their parents were different. Distant. Caring for them at an arm’s length. They would praise Hajime blandly, and would pat their heads disinterestedly.

They were people who had children due to societal expectation. Because their own parents had insisted. And once their grandparents died, so, too, did the pretense and the purpose.

Izuru had been fine with that, having learned to never expect more. Having never really cared for it as long as Hajime was still smiling.

And then, Hajime stopped smiling.

–

“Aha, I’m so sorry for all this trouble, Kamukura-kun.”

“You should not feel guilt for fainting. It was out of your control. But, I had thought you were eating, Komaeda.”

“I was, um, I ate toast and also this bento Hinata-kun made…” Komaeda touches his lips. With his hair fanned out across the pillow and the soft blush on his face, there was something tender in his expression. “It was so good I ended up crying and I think—I had difficulty sleeping.”

“Nightmares?” Izuru guessed. He does note that Tsumiki is not here to listen in, although if she were, nothing would come from it. “Perhaps some medication is in order.”

“I already take so much,” Komaeda whined. “And they can make my head feel all foggy! I think maybe I’ll try something more…relaxing. Like a new scent or something.”

“You can rest now,” Izuru said. “I will watch over you and make sure you do not have another night terror.”

“You don’t have to!” Komaeda exclaimed. “I’m sure our class is already missing you! Haven’t I said before that I don’t want to monopolize your time? The fact that you’re still trying to get me on a career path is more than enough.”

“That’s just business,” Izuru said. “I am offering my presence here as a gesture of consideration.”

“Aah, what a weird wording.” Komaeda turned to bury his face into the pillow. Both the tips of his hair and his ears are pink. “I don’t deserve such consideration!”

“Why do you believe that?” Izuru asked. “Is it because of your talent? Your illnesses? Neither of those detract from your worth as a person, Komaeda Nagito.”

“Not a lot of people are worth much in a world like this,” Komaeda mutters, the words muffled and yet Izuru can still hear them perfectly. “The world worships talent, and most people aren’t talented.”

That’s true, isn’t it.

“Societal values are not absolute, Komaeda Nagito.”

“But hope is! Hope is an absolute good!” Komaeda huffed, pushing himself up. His arms tremble from the effort. “And hope comes from talent! The Ultimates are symbols of hope!”

“That is only what this school will have you believe.”

“Eh, what are you saying?” Komaeda kept wobbling. “Kamukura-kun, for some reason that expression on your face—ah!”

He’s tired of the shaking. He only acted because of that.

Komaeda’s wrists really are thin, all that said. So easy to grip. Just one hand would be enough. Komaeda Nagito really does look frail when pinned down. Izuru wonders if it’s a good thing his hair is tied back, because if the long black strands fell over him like a curtain—it might look like a horror movie scene.

Not that his reflection in Komaeda’s wide gaze doesn’t still look intimidating. He can even hear Komaeda’s heart pounding.

“G…Gross,” Komaeda managed. “T-That expression. It’s really, really gross.”

“What’s repulsive is Hope’s Peak Academy,” Izuru found himself saying, eyes narrowing sharply. “I am the one grossed out by hearing you and Hajime fawn over it.”

“Is that so?” Komaeda frowns, putout but not alarmed. It seemed he had no intention of struggling.

Have you been in this position before? Had struggling or screaming only made it worse?

He should get off. This is inappropriate.

He keeps talking instead.

“If you only knew what they had done… The lengths…the extents of their crimes… Bleeding the reserve course dry, for one thing. It’s despicable. Beyond so. But, that’s just how adults are, isn’t it? Youths are a resource to use and exploit, like cattle.” Izuru sneered. “But Hope’s Peak is even worse. They think they have the grounds to control everything. And the public is all too happy to let them.”

He remembers. Hajime watching programs focused on it constantly. Not just on the main campus and its graduates, but also its other branches. The elementary school for instance. Izuru remembered how he was pushed for being considered ‘gifted’—and remembered how he was told it would be so much worse if his parents sent him to Hope’s Peak.

“This world thinks it is making progress but the route it takes is one to an ensured destruction. Hope’s Peak Academy will be the end of it. That’s what I predict, and considering the extent of my knowledge, it is something I am certain of.”

“You don’t get it, Izuru,” Hajime had said, with a sigh and a wave of his hand. “I just—I want to be important.”

“You are important,” Izuru replied innocently. Stupidly. He had known it even then, which was why he never clarified ‘to me’, he simply added, “Everyone is.”

“But there are those more important than others, right?” Hajime shot back. “Like, those from Hope’s Peak.”

“Certain?” Komaeda blinks owlishly at him. His lips part. “Y’know, Kamukura-kun—I suppose there is something about you and Hinata-kun that could be considered…unnatural.”

“That is only scratching the surface,” Izuru replied coldly. “You have no idea. You could not begin to comprehend… Hajime may not remember, but I do.”

“Remember what?”

Izuru stopped himself.

What am I doing? He’s a student. An innocent. No matter what he says and what is said about him—he is only another means to an end.

“…I apologize. This is inappropriate.” He releases those wrists, and although he gets off the other in a flash, Komaeda still quickly grabs the back of his uniform. Izuru had predicted that, of course. It was only allowed because Komaeda would have fallen out of the bed otherwise. “I do still suggest your change your perspective from here on out.”

“Seriously?” Komaeda shook his head. “Just like that?” He tugs on Izuru’s uniform. It’s with as much strength he can muster, and still barely anything at all. “It’s not fair of you to say so much and so little at the same time, Kamukura-kun!”

“It was reckless of me to speak at all.” It’s easy. So easy to pry off Komaeda Nagito’s grip. He doesn’t even need the strength he has. He knows that even a child would be capable. “You are intelligent. You can figure out the rest. However, you must not delve into depths beyond your comprehension. You are already dancing a delicate line.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Komaeda asked, irritated.

“It means Hope’s Peak Academy will have no qualms if you need to be removed.” Izuru squeezes his hand. “Actually. It’s too dangerous for you to know, isn’t it? Given your personality.”

Komaeda’s head tilted. Izuru takes his chin, staring deeply into that dull, aggravated gaze. When Komaeda’s eyes narrowed, Izuru spoke in a low voice.

“Forget what I just said.” He draws circles into Komaeda’s hands. Manipulatively soothing motions that make Komaeda lull. “None of this concerns you.”

Cupping Komaeda’s jaw now, he brushes his thumb over the curve of the other’s cheek. Komaeda shivers, and then.

“You need rest anyway. Go to sleep.”

Silvery lashes flutter. Izuru moves to gently usher him down, lying him back on the patient’s bed. Komaeda is limp and pliant in his grasp, eyes falling shut.

Izuru tucks him in with a sigh.

Careless. So careless.

He brushes the hair from Komaeda Nagito’s face.

And yet—I’m still aggravated.

–

When Komaeda Nagito wakes up later, it’s dark out. He’s still bleary-eyed—and then he’s startled.

“Ack, how long was I asleep?!”

“It’s only a little after seven,” Hajime tells him. “Now your sleeping schedule is going to be even more messed up.”

“H-Hinata-kun!”

“Everyone else has gone to their dorms,” Izuru says, lingering by the door. “Even the school nurse has retired, but it is my responsibility to watch over you. Hajime is also here, because…”

“It was that or wait home alone,” Hajime griped at him. “And I don’t need to study—nor did I feel the need for a late-night stroll. Too much sound, honestly. It’s unsettling.”

“I’m really am sorry,” Komaeda hurriedly rambled. “I’ve caused you a bit of trouble.”

Hajime waves him off with a laugh.

“Nah, it’s fine. Watching you sleep was something to do, at least. Sometimes, you mutter in your sleep though. Uh. Something about toilet ghosts?”

“I was having a dream about someone as a ghost, I think,” Komaeda murmurs, scratching his cheek. “At least I didn’t seem to have a nightmare.”

“Toilet ghosts aren’t considered a nightmare, huh. Good to know.”

“It’s a common legend, Hinata-kun.”

“Yeah. I’m aware.” Running his hand through his hair, Hajime was giving Komaeda quite the look. “Uh, let me—walk you back to your dorm, alright?”

“Would you like me to accompany you both?” Izuru asked, and he saw his brother flinch.

“Oh, right, Izuru, uh—you can go back home, if you want.”

Hajime doesn’t look at him as he says it. Komaeda’s gaze darts between them.

“Oh, I don’t want to cause more trouble.”

“I insist,” Hajime almost snapped. “It’s fine, Komaeda. Just, uh…let me?”

“Mm. Okay.” Komaeda took Hinata’s hand. He had to steady himself on the other as he was pulled out of the patient bed. “Sorry, still a little woozy. It’s fine, it’s fine.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Hajime repeated. “Just grab your blazer, slip on your shoes—and let’s go.”

“Aha, so pushy. Okay. I deserve it anyway.”

Hajime stiffens, but he says nothing more.

“See you tomorrow, Komaeda,” Izuru says.

“Ah, see you, Kamukura-kun!” Komaeda chirps.

Komaeda smiles brightly as always, and Hajime is quick to pull him close to lead him along. Komaeda protests a bit, but he’s just as quick to let it be.

Hajime does glance briefly back at Izuru. His stare is unmistakably narrowed into a sharp glare.

–

“You what?!”

“It was necessary,” he had said simply. “Komaeda Nagito knew too much. It was mild hypnotism, nothing more. While he may be drowsy and cloudy-headed—metaphorically speaking—for a couple of days, he will be fine.”

“Just a mild—Izuru! You can’t just brainwash people!” Hajime shouted at him, furious. “That’s way out of line!”

“He knew too much,” Izuru reiterated. “And Komaeda Nagito can be quite inquisitive. Were he to do his own research and end up caught by Hope’s Peak personnel, the results would have been far more dire.”

“What did he even know?!” Hajime demanded.

“He knew enough to suspect.”

Hajime’s gripping his collar now. His knuckles are almost white. His skin has lost some of that pallor from the experimentation—but not much.

“It was for his own safety,” Izuru murmured. “I promise, Hajime.”

Hajime’s teeth grit. His nostrils flare. He’s unconvinced.

It’s because you don’t remember. You don’t remember any of the things they did to you. And that’s a good thing, too.

“I’m just trying to protect him.”

Hajime releases him with a huff.

“You still can’t mess with someone like that, Izuru. Especially not Komaeda who fucking reveres you.”

“I understand.”

“If you do it again…”

“I understand.”

He knows Hajime might punch him, but that’ll be the extent of it. Hajime is still a gentle person after all.

It’s good…for them to not carry these burdens.

“I’ll look after him these next few days,” Hajime went on to say, turning away from him. “To see if Komaeda does as fine as you say he will.”

“I understand.”

It’s fine.

–

It’s fine because Hajime can still smile.

Izuru watches them leave the next day, watches Komaeda bounce after him, watches Hajime’s smile at his antics. He remembers—watching Hajime watch others leave him behind.

At some point in their childhood, Hajime stopped smiling. He could still make friends but he had difficulty connecting on a deeper level with others. Izuru noticed, but he thought that since they had each other, it would be fine.

Except, others began to notice him because of his ‘natural’ aptitude. Others began to flock to him. Even with his poor social skills and lack of interest, he noticed that there were those who admired him. Those who were attracted to him.

Hajime noticed, too.

Back then, Izuru thought that Hajime being important to him would be enough. Because for Izuru, it had been. He didn’t hate the attention of others, but he didn’t need it. He was happy without it.

But Hajime wasn’t.

Perhaps it was partially his own fault, for not wanting to accept that. For thinking that Hajime would grow out of it. That Hajime would one day turn back to him with a smile as easy as the days of old.

It was wishful thinking. A part of him knew that—but he still wished. He still thought things would be fine.

It may have been his fault, then, that Hajime grew more and more distant. That his smiles went from erratic to completely absent. That Hajime’s fixation on Hope’s Peak flourished.

He pretended that he understood. That he accepted those feelings. And Hajime pretended he didn’t resent him in return, that he didn’t hate him even a little.

When Hajime was accepted as a candidate for Hope Peak’s project, he was elated. Izuru read the terms—and was horrified.

But Hajime was happy. He was happy.

And Izuru only ever wanted his brother to be happy.

–

“Sorry, can I borrow my brother for a while?”

“Only if you promise to scream tomorrow!”

“Alright, alright. It’ll have to be in one of the soundproof rooms though.”

“Woohoo!”

Hajime tugged him along from them, over to where Komaeda was waiting patiently. Komaeda give him a sweet smile, and Hajime looks only a little embarrassed.

“If you feel like you’re being crowded, you should tell them off,” Hajime grumbled at him. “I get that you spoil them so that they listen to you more but at this rate, Mioda’s gonna convince you to do something crazy like dye your hair.”

“They’re just like that,” Izuru said. “They crowded you in the beginning, too.”

“Yeah…and it was overwhelming until you stepped in. Kinda like dealing with toddlers, huh?”

“Don’t insult our class!” Komaeda scolded. “What they lack in reservation, they make up for in spirit!”

“That’s kind of the problem,” Hajime pointed out. “Although I guess being passionate is pretty important, huh? I envy that a little.”

Komaeda nodded happily in agreement.

“You want a drink, Izuru?” Hajime asks him. “Komaeda knows a trick on how to get several cans at once from the machine.”

“It’s just good luck, Hinata-kun.”

“Still feels like magic when you do it without soft-hacking the circuits like I do.”

“You really shouldn’t treat the vending machines as personal playthings! They’re for all students, Hinata-kun!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Izuru watches them, at how ease they are at bantering.

“A drink…would be nice, yes. Thank you.”

I want him happy.

–

He ended up with a cold coffee. Hajime picked something heated, and Komaeda ended up with what wasn’t an energy drink. He was already dozing a bit from a few sips.

“Still having trouble sleeping, Komaeda?”

“Mm. No, I’ve been getting better. Although I was looking through career files the other day.”

“Eh? Really?” Hajime blinked. “This soon? You weren’t thinking of being a gambler or something?”

“Aha, I have enough money,” Komaeda said, shaking his head. “Also, I don’t like smoke or alcohol so the atmosphere may not be for me.” A pause. “Has Hinata-kun made progress towards being a headmaster, yet?”

“W-We’re still pretty early in the year, y’know!”

“Being a headmaster requires a variety of skills, so you should get started early!”

“I’ll be fine, I’ll be fine!”

“Are you really and finally concerned about the future, Komaeda?” Izuru found himself asking. “I am relieved, if that were the case.”

“I…” Komaeda flustered. “It’s just because Kamukura-kun worries.”

“Don’t push him too much, Izuru,” Hajime reprimanded lightly. “Komaeda is actually a lot flightier than he looks.”

“Aha, it’s not that I’m flighty, I just…have difficulty shifting my priorities.” Komaeda hummed, taking another sip. “Right now, I do want to enjoy Hope’s Peak to its fullest and support the other Ultimates with all I have.”

“Maybe you can join the staff next year?” Hajime suggested.

Izuru tried not to flinch.

“I think that ship has sailed,” Komaeda replied dryly. “I don’t have much good will left here. I’ll have to go overseas and work for Munakata-san, probably. And I…” He trailed off. “I get seasick…and I’m no good with flights.”

“Huh.”

“It’s fine,” Komaeda insisted. “I’ll be fine.”

Fine. It’ll be fine.

Hajime didn’t seem convinced. Even with Komaeda’s smile.

“I’m hungry,” Izuru announced. “Hajime, retrieve food.”

“Hah?! You can’t get it yourself?!”

“I’ve been on my feet all day.” Izuru’s frown deepened. “Food. Please.”

Hajime groaned but stood.

“Fine, fine, I’ll be right back. Jeez, Izuru, you can’t expect me to keep pampering you.”

“Thank you.”

“Ehe, good luck, Hinata-kun!” Komaeda chirped, waving.

Hajime grumbled but he did wave back as he jogged away. Komaeda giggled even long after his figure had disappeared.

“You and Hinata-kun must be quite close. I can tell you’re attached.”

“He is my brother,” Izuru said. “It is understandable.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Komaeda replied, shrugging. “Seeing as I’m an only child and all. It must be nice, having someone so close.”

“It has its pros and cons, I suppose.”

“Aha, Hinata-kun said the same thing. Although, he said a lot of things.”

Komaeda is smiling, but there is a significant undercurrent to those gray-green depths. Izuru stares back, and he wonders.

“I asked Hajime about you,” Komaeda went on. “You two had quite the complicated relationship, as I suppose siblings often do. He was actually upset with you—although I couldn’t figure out why. He didn’t say that, by the way, it was just obvious.”

Can anything truly be done about this person?

“It is none of your concern,” he said simply rather than snapped.

“Oh, no, I understand. I just can’t help being curious about the both of you. Lately, Hinata-kun’s been more attentive…and you’ve been more intense. I’m not used to that kind of attention, you see.” Komaeda’s legs begin to swing. “What is about me, I wonder?”

“You’re just a concerning person,” Izuru said. “That’s all.”

“It must be, since I can’t think of anything else.” Komaeda sipped at his drink some more. His eyelashes fluttered. He seemed to be calming down. “Do you take me for a fool, Kamukura-kun?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t even hesitate. “You’re quite foolish.”

“Wow. Cold. You might be right, though. I’m beginning to suspect as much.” Still, Komaeda laughs. “I can’t help but excited for what’s to come.”

Excited? For what, exactly?

“I also had a dream about you,” Komaeda added. “It was fuzzy and foggy but you seemed to be telling me something really important. I wonder what it was?”

“It was a dream,” was the bland retort.

“Mm.”

“Komaeda Nagito.” Izuru inhaled. “What is to be done to keep you out of trouble?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” was the honest answer. “Trouble seems to follow me wherever I go.”

“You also seem to seek it, wherever it may be.”

“You think so? I’m not a thrill-seeker, I assure you. I’d like to live a normal, peaceful, unremarkable life—it’s just impossible.”

A normal life. Hajime could never be satisfied with that.

“What is possible, then?”

Komaeda hummed thoughtfully.

“What a question. Well—I wouldn’t mind dying if it’s for your sake! Hinata-kun’s, too. And the rest of the Ultimates. Death would be fine as long as other lives flourished as a result.”

“What a horrible thing to say.”

“Is it?” Komaeda frowned. “Because, Kamukura-kun, it feels like you understand. To an extent. The importance of sacrifice.”

“That’s projection,” he said. “You’re a lonely person, after all.”

“And you’re not? Kamukura-kun, even when surrounded by people, you look so lonely! It’s despairing!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just denying it isn’t healthy you know—”

“The more you talk, the more difficult things will be on you, Komaeda Nagito.”

Komaeda’s frown deepened. He finished his drink with a sigh. He then leans against him.

“What have you sacrificed already, I wonder? I wish I had something to give for someone else besides my life.”

Izuru said nothing.

–

“Please. Please. Don’t take my brother away.”

“It’s not a matter you have any say in, Izuru-kun. Apologies.”

There’s no sincerity to this person at all. On that day, Izuru learned what it meant to hate. But desperation still warped him beyond comprehension.

“This experiment—it’s risky, isn’t it? Is one test subject truly enough? Wouldn’t it be easier—more convenient—to have two?”

A cold blink. There would have been more expressiveness in the gaping maw of a koi.

“If complications arise, you can have a backup in place. Isn’t that more economical?”

“Izuru-kun, you are a gifted child. Not Ultimate material, of course, but capable of success nonetheless. Just what are you doing, exactly?”

“I’m gifted, but I don’t have any particular talents. I’m still a viable candidate, right?”

“Hm.”

“All I ask for is that my brother’s sense of self be retained. That you give him what he wants—a talent—but you don’t take everything from him in exchange. I’ll offer everything in his place.”

“My, what devotion. Not a talent, but remarkable nonetheless.”

“Please. Please. Don’t take my brother away.”

“Very well. I can’t say no to such a face anyway.”

“…”

“You’ll suffer the brunt of the experiment, but for Hinata Hajime-kun’s sake, that’s alright, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“Very well, then. It will be a pleasure, Izuru-kun. You’ll save your brother and the world someday.”

–

“D-Did he fall asleep?!”

“He dozed off. His drink made him sleepy.”

“Is that all it is?”

Hajime was frowning at him, face pinched and eyes narrowed. His arms were full of the snacks that Izuru was partial to.

He doubts he’ll enjoy them as he once did.

“I didn’t do anything to him,” Izuru said. “I care for him as well, Hajime, even if it may be a different sort of relationship.”

“R-Relationship?”

Finishing off his own drink, Izuru tossed it into the nearby trashcan. He’s careful not to stir Komaeda Nagito in even the slightest.

“I’ll carry him back. No worries.”

“O-Oi, Izuru…”

Komaeda Nagito was light and pliable, and with one arm under his shoulders and another tucked under his knees, it was easy to pick him up. Hajime predictably flustered, seeming all shades of conflicted.

“I do not wish to disturb him,” Izuru told him, as if that served as an innocuous explanation. “Would you rather carry him, Hajime?”

“No, uh, it’s fine. It’s fine.” Hajime does look Komaeda over. “He’s—pretty peaceful when he sleeps, huh. Komaeda’s good about acting calm, but this is…yeah.”

Hajime tosses Komaeda’s empty drink without another word.

“You are fond of him, aren’t you, Hajime?”

“I don’t want my brother asking me questions like that.” A pause. “How do you feel, though?”

Truth be told—it’s difficult to tell. Everything is crowded. Everything is suffocating. Even now, I want to curl up and disappear. But. But.

“I care for him as I should, I suppose.”

“You suppose.”

Hajime snorted.

“Izuru, I worry about your humanity sometimes.”

“A valid concern.”

“P-Please don’t say that so easily.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Urgh.” Hajime’s eyes rolled as he grimaced but he lightly bumped shoulders with him. “Way to make a guy worry. I should go to your class more often and take on the brunt of that class of yours. It can’t be more difficult than dodging everything Matsuda throws at me. Not to mention having Kamishiro follow me around… I think he suspects something, Izuru.”

Izuru said nothing to that.

“I guess I shouldn’t worry. If he digs too much, he’s just risking himself.”

Hajime walks with him, keeping with his stride. It’s nostalgic. Familiar. Even with Komaeda in his arms, it’s comfortable in a way few things are these days.

It’s also a cold reminder of how much things have changed and distorted. How they’ll be that way forever, with Hajime’s red-rimmed gaze and the blinding radiance of Hope’s Peak Academy.

Komaeda’s hand smacks his face. It doesn’t hurt anymore than paper. But Komaeda’s curling towards him, mumbling into his shoulder.

“Don’t…cry…”

Hajime takes Komaeda’s hand to set it back on his chest. Hajime’s smile is instinctive.

“What are you even dreaming about, Komaeda?” he asks, with undeniable fondness.

“Who knows,” Izuru said, ever quiet.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Hajime laughs now. “It didn’t look like he did.”

“He didn’t.”

We’re all together. Isn’t that a wonderful thing?

…

It hurts.

#komahina #kamukoma #fanfiction #komahina secret exchange

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staycatcher · 5 years

Text

Anguish 002- Anarchy

“Out of genuine free will, I, Lee Minho, exercise the divine right to reject my sacredly designed soulmate.”

Member: Lee Minho / Lee Know x Femme Reader (she/her)

Au: FratBoi! Minho + Rejected Soulmate AU

Genre: Angst, with added fluffy flashbacks past life to make it enjoyable lol

Rated T for a #@&% ton of swearing, violent bodily reactions/extreme pain, hospitals, drunk people, altercations, and just general intensity 👀💀

Note: It skips around a lot, a border is before and after the past life flashbacks/dreams and after those, it’ll say when/where it’s set!! Hmu if it’s still confusing~

Word Count: 4.3k

Anguish series 2/?- 001, ~002~

Edited: 210116 (Original: 190918 )

‼Edit: rewritten to exclude Kim Woojin, so the characters in the plot are now all scrambled and changed from the original!! If you’ve read this before- first of all thank you so much🥺💓💞- secondly you might want to reread because of the supporting character changes going forward!!😅🥰💝‼

Your eyelids flash open in the backseat of an unfamiliar sedan, the car jostling your seatbelt-less form about as it’s swerving fast down the side streets in the dead of night. Being brought back to consciousness unfortunately also brought agony that unconsciousness saved you from. Your current state knocks the breath right out of you, forcing out pathetic whimpers for breaths of needed oxygen, alerting the people in the front.

“Y/n?” Through the agony just of just being conscious, you hazily hear Jamie’s highly concerned voice. This is the first time in your decade-long friendship that you’ve heard her voice sound like this. Though, you only hear your surroundings very blearily and distant as if you were some sort of different time and space. Her voice- it was full of fear!

You just croaked out an incoherent sound as an acknowledgment as best you could between gasps for air. That’s all you could conjure, with your heart and brain pulsing magma through your entire body. Your insides must be neon at this point from the excessive heat and energy surging through you. You felt as if you were burning up, burning [alive]. Not even the overflowing tears, sweat, pathetic snot, and slobber could cool you from the intensity of the fever.

“Is she awake?!”

“I think so? She’s making weird noises and she’s moving!”

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh-” The rattling car slowed down a bit.

“KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE FUCKING ROAD, SEUNGMIN!”

“I’M SORRY! JESUS!” The car sped right back up, maybe even faster than before, ramming into a harsh turn which came with an entourage of groans from both the vehicle and its passengers.

“Fucking hell!”

“I said I’m -fucking- sorry!”

“Just keep driving, for Christ’s sake! And I’ll keep giving you directions!-”

“Okay, okaayy!!~ God!”

You’re not quite sure how much time passed from the time when you awoke in this godforsaken sedan and when it reached a full stop. It could have been five minutes, fifteen, or an hour. The torture of rejection had you blacking out frequently on the turbulent ride to this unknown location. Your main focus is only on the sole fact that your soul was getting ripped apart each second, a chaotic ride was the least of your worries. The only stream of consciousness you remember is that you threw up in the backseat once or twice, and all-consuming, volcanic pain and fever. You also had no idea where in the hell they were taking you, and you weren’t in a state to care. Hell, you didn’t even know what was up and what was down, what year it was, you had much more prominent, violent, bodily reactions that took up all of your bleary concentration.

Once the car did reach a full, screeching stop you heard the grating metal of the rush of seatbelts being undone, the jerk of the car’s ignition switch off with a gritty rattle of keys, doors being ripped open, slammed shut, only for the doors near you being ripped open in succession. It made your ears bleed, or maybe they were already bleeding. Wait, are my ears bleeding?

“Holy shit!!”

“How in the hell did she puke that much?! My fucking car!”

“Oh my god, Seungmin, shut the fuck up! We’re not worried about that right now! Help me carry her in!”

“Okay, okay, okay! Jesus!”

“Here, I’ll come on your side.” Another door slam. Soon after, you were startled to feel a pair of comparatively cold hands latch at each of your arms and gently ripping them out from under you, pitchy sounds of disapproval screeched out of you before they began dragging your wrecked body towards them. You weren’t conscious enough to feel the amount of humiliation you normally would at being fussed over like this, or how you may appear or what sort of public decency you might have. You could only spit out loud incomprehensible sounds of discontent. So out of it, you had no choice but to submit to whatever they were doing and allow yourself to be helped, even if you currently feel like your suffering is being heightened significantly. Your eyes were still swirling around inside your head in dizziness, brain throbbing, being upright only aggravated your body more with the forced movements and new changes in circulation.

“And up!~” That was met with groans from all of you.

“Fucking hell there’s more of her than I remember!!”

“Shut the hell- Literally no one has ever asked you anything, Seungmin.”

“It’s not like that! I’m saying she’s tall, Jamie! Why is she so long-”

”For the love of fucking theater, please put a sock in it. I thought you were supposed to be the quiet one!” You can barely hear them by now, their voices blurred away further and further until you once again float away and away, right back into the mercy of sweet, sweet unconsciousness.

Soft snowflakes fall upon your warm cheeks- happy, smiling cheeks. It was only because of said precious snowflakes melting against your warm skin that you were made aware that your cheeks must be as red as the scarf your grandmother knitted for you. Despite all this snow, all you could see was what was vaguely forty or so yards away from you: A single figure among the rest, a handsome young man with whom you felt an immediate pull.

Your train was about to leave and the rambunctious morning rush is now in full swing. The train you were supposed to catch to leave to a new city with a future waiting for you would take off soon, you kept trying to remind yourself. You couldn’t risk losing your train for a random stranger! But, despite all of your best efforts to carry on, you felt no urge to go and chase a suddenly meaningless mode of transportation. You felt full all of a sudden, complete, all because of some blurry stranger in front of you, whose silhouette you could barely even see amongst the hoards of people bustling past you in every direction.

My god, does this mean- Could it be?! This feeling, this person, is that-

“Is that ‘You’?” You heard your voice call out, loud enough to yell over the hustle and bustle, your eyes twinkling wide in wonder.

Nothing else in this world could matter even half as much as this person in front of you. This person you hardly got glimpses of in-between rushing people. Not even the train that would take you to a safe, guaranteed future, seemed to weigh as much to you as this stranger. Just glimpses of this man, made things feel right, in a way you couldn’t begin to explain. A feeling deep, deep inside you told you that everything in your life has led to this. That you came to this train station to see him, and not to leave the city to another. If it was socially acceptable to slap yourself in the face for what you are currently thinking, what you are currently doing- you’d do it. You were going to miss this train, your ticket was not refundable, you had an opening to pursue-

“I’d assume so!” He tried to get out loudly all the while shoving through, inching closer. Without a doubt, he was just as affected as you. Seemingly, entirely more thrilled like he had no other plans than to meet you, despite the blatant fact he must have some. He’s at the train station at daybreak for god’s sake!

“Where are my manners? I’m sorry!! My mother would have a fit- raising me better than this!” His tone was infinitely more friendly and silly than you would have predicted, especially in comparison with the words he said. Why is he smiling so wide while apologizing? For some reason you loved it! This must be one of his many quirks.

“My name is Minho Lee.” He came even closer as he was saying this with cool, confident footsteps inching your way despite the busy, disruptive rushed bodies, all with their own lives, their own hurried paths. All that was important to you suddenly was this beacon of a person in front of you, whose DNA was handwoven by the celestial, specifically for you, a matched set.

“I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n- It-it’s a pleasure!” You offered your hand for him to shake. You didn’t even know what to say, you just relied on your natural politeness and ingrained manners to get those few words out.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss L/n.” And then he smiled, his angelic feline smile sealing the deal. Just with his sparkly smile and an electric handshake, all your doubts fade away.

Park Jinyoung Memorial Hospital

Room 3025

“-I don’t want him here!! I’m not letting him come in here!“ You come to, the sound of a vaguely familiar voice waking you up. None of your other senses seem to be working well besides your hearing, and even that was dubious, barely catching any of the words that were being said, almost as if you were underwater.

“Jamie! It’s been ten hours! He’s her soulma-“ Ten hours- since what?

“I don’t give a flying rat’s ass, Chris!! He’s the reason she’s like this! He could hurt her even more!!“ Jamie and Chris? Jamie and Chris- where have you heard those names again?

“Jamie, shut up!! Her monitors will go off, they said she might still be able to hear- you’ll stress her out!!” Monitors?! Monitors, what places have monitors? Are they talking about you? You think so- You tried to open your eyes to investigate, but they refused to budge.

“‘Think this is bad, Seungmin?! Think what’ll happen if Minho walks through the door-“ Huh?! Minho!! That name sounds familiar- The blaring sound of a heart rate monitor beeping interrupts your thoughts before you can continue much further.

“Don’t say his name! She’s reacting negativ-“ They have to be talking about you! The heart rate has to be yours right- you reacted and then the heart rate spiked- then the sound happened. WAIT, YOU’RE IN A HOSPITAL! You’re in a hospital and hooked up to things! Your monitors give off an alert, though that doesn’t shut up these people you’re hearing.

“Oh?! So you don’t want me to say his name but you want me to allow his unstable ass to come on in and get some visiting hours on the books?! How does that even make sense, Chris!?” Oh wow. Okay, this is- a lot.

“Jamie, be realistic-”

“No you guys be realistic! Y/n’s parents are flying out here and they’re allowing me to speak on Y/n’s behalf until they land. And I’m not allowing that fucker to come anywhere near this room until she’s healed a little-” Seriously, what in the hell is going on right now? So much is happening all at once, you just woke up- What happened?! You want to go back to your dreams, not a whirlwind of whatever the fuck this is.

“Who says she’ll heal? Her soul is dying-” Hold up! Pause. What now- ‘dying’?! DYING? WHAT’S WRONG WITH MY SOUL?

“SHE’S D-“ The voice tried to continue, only to be cut off, but it’s to be expected at this point though. All you can do is stand and watch… well in your case, lay down and listen... to try and help you make sense of this.

“Don’t you fucking dare.”

“It’s true! Y/n’s-”

“I said don’t… the two of you can leave now.” Oh god- this is just getting uglier and unpleasant by every shouted word. What on earth did you wake up to, well... you’re not completely awake to be fair. You can’t seem to feel or move. It's like you’re just floating around, distantly experiencing your sense of sound.

“Jamie!”

“Leave.”

“Jamie, I’m her friend too you can’t just-” They’re my friends!! That’s how I know these people! Finally some answers!

The sound of a door being burst open met with quick footsteps. “Is everything alright in here? What’s going on? Do I need to get a Doctor? Security?” Hearing the distress of this person made your heart race faster, yet again, nerves heightening by this highly concerned person storming in.

Wait- what were you even in here for?

“No-”

“They were just about to leave, ma’am-“

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask all three of you to leave. We have to calm her down and then run some tests. It seems that Y/n's vitals became unstable again. We’ll contact you, Jamie, and her parents when we’re done, and you can come back.”

You were out in the country, on your way to fetch some water from the well for you and your oversized family. Being a frequently forgotten middle child, you often get away with hiding away in these fields, perhaps with a book or some sewing project you worked at, or perhaps just taking in the sun’s rays, cloud gazing, or napping like a kitten in the pleasant sunlight. Alas, today wasn’t so kind to you and as your younger brother who was usually charged with this task, fell sick in bed, thus the task was passed along to you.

The well wasn’t too far, a nice walk for some. But all this time could be spent doing something more fun, something filled with more imagination than someone your age should have. Something curious or something that instilled peace in your heart. Something that didn’t involve hauling water in buckets back to the cottage without it sloshing it all over the place, spilling it, and splashing onto your layers in your rush to get back.

Out of breath and traveling back with a heavy wooden bucket filled to the rim with water in each hand, your hand-me-down clad self began walking back along the dirt road. When you finally decide to look ahead and not at the buckets, you spy two people on horses trotting your way. You shake your head a few times making sure that what you were seeing was actually happening and not one of your daydreams.

Today was not a day full of your mind's little tricks, this was happening. It was made real as each second drew nearer. The two seemed to slow down their trotting as if to approach you. As they grew closer, the clearer they became, making it all the more apparent that they were in some sort of uniform, clearly of higher status within the military. Your eyes grew to the size of the chipped plate you ate upon this morning. It wasn’t often you’d see or interact with anyone with a status of any kind, much less outside of the village, right outside your family’s humble cottage doors.

Eventually, the two came to a complete stop in front of you. The first man on your right seems to have a stern look despite his pretty lips, he could only be described as beautiful. His face was angular yet soft but his aura made it feel sharp, his presence alone felt important. He cleared his throat, right when your eyes were about to wander to his companion, who’s eyes you could feel began to take you in. You gasped in realization, quickly set down your buckets, and deeply bowed, paying your overdue respects. You nearly forgot to, too startled by their presence, to say the least.

“I beg your pardon, sirs! It’s not often I see military in the area, it certainly is a shock! Please forgive my manners!” You wobbly got out, still bowing at a ninety-degree angle and looking down low at your worn shoes, too embarrassed to look up now. They could beat you for your disrespect if they wanted to. Your mother would have killed you herself if she found out.

“Let it rest, Sergeant.” You heard a downright musical voice chide the soldier you made eye contact with earlier before continuing. “The poor girl is spooked, to say the least! Not much unlike that new recruit- what’s his name- Jeongin! Not unlike Jeongin’s horse!” You couldn’t hold in the snort at his execution of what you’re assuming is supposed to be a good-natured joke at your expense to ease tensions. He seemed to be just as flustered as you, his delivery mocked himself more than he could’ve attempted to mock you!

When you finally decide to look up, you instantly make eye contact with him. Unfortunately, you become even more ‘spooked’ than before! This man was astonishing, completely, and utterly astonishing. He looked as if he were carved out of stone, but his voice was so sweet and mischievous. He was the sort of contradiction you’ve read about in books, you still couldn’t fully comprehend if this is just another one of your daydreams or your reality. His radiant features almost make you fall over before regaining balance, but not without emitting humiliating noises that had the two of them snickering.

And you thought that other guy was pretty! Just one moment of eye contact with this one before immediately feeling tingles from your head to your toes and your face became even hotter now; hotter than the sun.

“My soulmate?” He gasped in amazement, amazement at you. His eyes lit up like he was handed the keys to a castle for a weekend. He’s full of newfound energy and leaned a bit too much on the flirtatious side for your face to handle. Your face could only get so red. He was testing your body pigment’s limits and he didn’t say more than a few sentences.

“Soulmate?” You whispered, fully astonished now. Your brain is surely gonna fry any second now. Your unrelenting plate-sized eyes zooming across the entirety of his being, trying to take it all in at once with the wonder of an astronomer looking at the night sky for the first time.

“You know what this means, Sergeant Hwang?”

“Lieutenant , we have t-”

“It means I have some parents to meet!”

“What are you- you haven’t even asked for my name!” Your voice ripped itself out of you without your permission, your sentence could only be described as informal.

“Right, you’re quite right, even if you were a bit informal, I’ll have to forgive you for that now that I have been equally as such.” Then all of a sudden he began to dismount the horse, making your eyebrows fly to your hairline. He quickly dismounted the horse with the grace of a dancer, and immediately began to approach you. While all this was happening, ‘Sergeant Hwang’ had no problem gawking at you and his superior, but you could hardly care. Most of your energy focused on your sense of sight now that he was coming out of the now blinding setting sun and off his high horse, literally. And what a sight to behold he truly was. His gorgeous, generously lashed eyes looking right into yours, now only a respectable foot away from you.

“What’s your name then, my love?” He asked, reaching for your hand, instantly giving you both a zap which makes you both giggle in awe. Just the touch of him had you toasting in your high collared cotton. The sizzling increased but the realization set in, your hands were the two final pieces to the puzzle. Nothing in your sheltered, naive world made so much sense or felt so right like this.

“It’s- it’s Y/n.~” You breathed, looking up from your connected hands into his sharp facial features that became soft with endearment, crystal eyes gleaming at you in response.

Sigma Kappa Zeta Fraternity House

Twelve hours ago

“WHERE THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING MINHO?!” Changbin started chasing after Lee Minho who already made it the majority of the way up the narrow, carpeted stairs. Changbin was outraged that he’d pull this shit, especially at a time like this.

For some reason, in his mind, he thought that when Minho found his soulmate, his reckless behavior would cease. Alas, he witnessed with his own two eyes, Minho did just do the unthinkable and rejected the very person that was made for him. Shock and anger didn’t even begin to describe how Changbin felt. He had to get to the bottom of this, this just didn’t make any sense. This behavior just wasn’t acceptable anymore. Minho has gone too far. He could no longer tolerate his friend’s bullshit. Someone had to collect him and knock some sense into him!

If Changbin had to be the one to knock some sense to Minho he would. When he saw the way Y/n and Minho looked at each other, he was ecstatic that it was you he was destined for. He’d never admit to it unless probed, but he may or may not had eyes for you a semester or two ago.

Noting your understated beauty and the unabashed quirks like how you only sat in odd positions, the excessive amount of pens and highlighters you liked to use, and your unrivaled cuteness despite your grunge exterior. He knew you could be just the right person butter Minho up, but he didn’t even let you say a sentence to him before he severed the celestial bond before booking it the hell out of there without a second thought.

What Changbin wouldn’t give to find his own soulmate, his one and only, and to see how quickly Minho just threw his away- No, Changbin couldn’t just stand there and watch! Minho wasn’t being rational, he probably wasn’t even thinking at all! He was being completely and utterly selfish, a fucking coward.

Changbin was tailing after Minho now, catching up closer and closer with each stride through the masses of drunk or high college kids. Minho was beginning to run with a limp, palming at his chest, as he was shoving his way through crowds of endless people partying their sorrows away. The younger one started to notice the closer he got, the more clearer it was to see that his friend looked off. Like he was injured, or maybe seriously sick. As if he was not only running from you but also running away from the symptoms and the consequences of his actions.

Changbin barely made it in time to catch Minho when he inevitably doubled over in pain, shouts of which were being swallowed down, only bits and pieces coming out as chokes and grunts, and he refused to even look at Changbin. Completely and utterly ashamed, and full of frustration as he was trying to get Changbin off of him. But changbin was easily stronger than him in this state. The swarms of people on the main level just aloofly made a bit of a way for the two boys, with a roll of the eyes, just assuming it was another drunkard wilding out with a friend coming after him.

“What the fuck has gotten into you, Minho?!” Changbin interrogated, holding Minho at his shoulders with eyes studying him with the disappointment of a father and the confusion of a child.

“Ssstop- just- fUCk! Let go of me-“ Minho was thrashing in his arms, at this point he rendered a fish out of water, in dire need of something out of reach to breathe clearly. Beginning to freeze up as well as he hissed breaths in and out, acting as if he was going to pass out soon if Changbin didn’t do something, but what exactly, Changbin had no idea.

Changbin has only heard distant horror stories of people rejecting their soulmate, shit like his sister’s friend’s brother’s cousin. Never in his life did he think he’d witness such a thing right before his very eyes. Before now, he didn’t even know what the incantation even was to reject a soulmate! Was there an incantation to undo it? Was there more than one to reject someone and if so did it need a specific matching reverse incantation? Does Minho know the reversal to the one he recited? Or could you even reverse it in the first place-

“Minho!!” Changbin gripped him by the shoulders this time, forcing his thrashes to a stop, though Minho was still huffing and puffing far too much to be just from the quick dash he did. “How do you reverse this!?”

“It’s too late, it’s too late, it's too laaaate~!“ Minho wallowed, practically blubbering, his eyes dazed and distant.

“Get over yourself!!” Changbin gritted his teeth before smacking him across the face, shaking his own head in disbelief.

“OWW- wHAt the fU-“

“I said, get over yourself!” Changbin clutched at Minho tighter, forcing him to look into his fiery eyes. “Think of others for once and grow the fuck up, already! You got yourself in this mess, now how do you get yourself out of it?”

“I did it out of free will-” Minho gasped for air, glaring his once sharp eyes at him. “It won’t be easy-” With each second passing by Minho’s breaths became more labored, his body twitching and stiff with intensity, veins popping out, pleading for help.

Unlike the quick wildfire of pain you went through, Minho experiences a slow, dull pain creeping up him, leaving him begging for it to be over before it even really began. Drawn out, slow and steady in the worst way, with each minute he began to wish it were harsher or to get it over with. This dull, icy knife cutting at him slowly, was truly torturous, like a death from a thousand cuts.

Changbin, on the other hand, was honestly so disgusted with this entire situation, and the fact it was out of his best friend’s own doing, made it even worse for him to deal with.

“I don’t care how hard it is!! I want to know how to fix it!!” Changbin scorned and silently prayed to the universe to give him the patience to deal with Lee Minho for the rest of the long night he knew they had ahead of them.

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