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the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo · 3 years

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Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader

Here's a little something I cooked up. Not sure what I want to do with it, but it was bugging me to be written. For better or worse.

This is a little Helmut Zemo/Female Reader moment. It has Sam and Bucky too. It's not fully developed, but hopefully you all can enjoy it for what it is.

OOOOO

You were in Germany when you got the call from Sam. He needed help locating the Flag-Smashers, and was hoping you could offer some assistance.

He just happened to call at the perfect time, because as it turns out, the person you went to visit was no longer around. So, since you had essentially made a trip across the ocean for nothing; you figured, why not? Might as well make something of your travels abroad and not make it a total loss.

Sam gave instructions to meet him at a residence in Riga, Latvia. He mentioned very little other than that. Technically though, that wasn't entirely his fault. You're pretty sure he intended to provide more information, but Bucky was shouting, "Hellos.", "You've been missed!", and her personal favorite, an exasperated, "Please save me from my tormentor."

After Bucky's outburst, Sam had seemed to have forgotten about you on the phone; so you were just listening to constant bickering in the background. All you could do was shake your head and laugh at this point. Truly, Earth's greatest defenders were simply children at times.

It was good to hear their laughs. It had been too long and the world was still recovering.

We all were.

Bucky, Sam, and you all disappeared when Thanos snapped his fingers, wiping out half the universe. When you all returned, there was love and there was loss all around, but it bonded the three of you in a friendship deeper than any of you could imagine.

Okay, perhaps, that's a slight exaggeration. You became extremely good friends with both James and Sam; however, the two of them are a different story altogether. They won't admit to their friendship, but you know they'll both come around one day. They're just being stubborn idiots. God, she missed those two guys. It's been months since she had laid eyes either one of them.

So, here you are, standing right out front the door Sam gave instructions to meet at.

You fiddled with the arm of the backpack strapped across your chest. You didn't think you'd be this nervous, but a combination of excitement and adrenaline had caused you to be a bit jumpy. You tried to shrug it off as you raised your hand to knock on the door.

Not even 10 seconds after you knocked on the door you heard the shuffle of footsteps, accompanied with the ever present response of, "I got it."

Only the footsteps halted abruptly and muffled discussions were faintly heard through the door. You couldn't make out what was being said, only that no further movement had been made to answer the door.

I swear to God, if they are simply having an argument about who gets to open the door, I am going to murder them both on the spot.

You were about to knock on the door again a bit more insistently, but you never got the chance as the door abruptly swung open to reveal Bucky.

As you stared back at one another, you couldn't help but noticed his tense appearance, which is not all that unusual for him, but it was a more strained posture. You assumed it had something to do with whatever was being talked about just moments prior to answering the door.

It couldn't have been too serious because seconds later he dropped all pretense and gave you a heartfelt smile before sweeping you up in his arms for a hug.

He all but dragged you inside, it only caused you to chuckle at his enthusiasm. Yeah, you had missed him a lot.

The hug continued to linger on, and you could hear the door behind you close. You were about to motion to Bucky to release you from his hold when you heard Sam pipe in highly amused, "Buck, give her some room to breath."

You could feel the glare James was giving Sam, but he did let you go eventually.

Upon the release from your hug, the sleeves of your blue hoodie had drifted past your hands; you pushed them up a bit where you could grab James's hand and squeeze it in silent thanks.

After letting go of Bucky, you turned around to face Sam, shaking your head and grinning at him with delight, "Never a dull moment around here is there?"

"Never," Sam replied. "It's my turn, now," holding his arms out, he smiled pulling you into a softer embrace, but no less enthusiastic.

You huffed out a laugh and hugged him back with equal fervor.

A few moments had passed, and you reluctantly untangled yourself from Sam. More pleasantries had been exchanged and small talk had filled up the space as you walked fully into open living space.

You did a turn about the room as you headed towards the kitchen area with the guys trailing behind you. You had grabbed the strap of your backpack and had lifted it over your head.

You were about to place your stuff on the kitchen island when you heard soft footfalls make their way from the outer hallway towards you.

The unexpected noise caused you to hesitate; you turned your head towards Sam and James with a puzzled expression on your face. You had opened your mouth with the intention to ask them who else was in the safe house with you, when you saw him.

The backpack you were holding had fallen out of your hands and onto the floor with a thud, but you couldn't tear your eyes off the man standing across the room from you now. Your face had gone completely slack jaw and eyes had widen in shock leaving you speechless.

You would normally have said something quippy in this moment, but your brain had stopped functioning.

The silence was finally broken from Sam's response to the situation.

"Okay, I know what this looks like. We can explain him," Sam cautiously said. "Actually, Bucky should be the one to share this story, since it was his idea."

You could hear the words Sam was saying, but they never really registered. You assumed he thought you were shocked because the man who stood in front of you once tore your friends a part. Because he was supposed to be in a prison in Germany. Any other number of reasons could potentially be listed. What Sam didn't realize, was that the man standing before you was the last person you saw before you disintegrated before his eyes, and this was the first time since that chaos you had seen him again.

Other than Sam's calm reply, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Perhaps it was because the same look of shock and awe was reflected on Zemo's face.

You tried to form a response, something, anything to say.

Neither Sam or Bucky knew you used to visit Zemo after he was imprisoned. Whenever you travelled to Germany, you would tell them you had a contact that only agreed to provide information face to face. They never put two and two together, but they also trusted you implicitly; so they had no reason to ever question your motives or who exactly you were going to see. You actually saw Zemo a fair amount of time. More often than not, it was always to learn about the inner workings of Hydra. While they may be diminished in capacity; they still had not been completely eradicated. And you were determined to locate and destroy every remaining Hydra base, and dismantle them once and for all. They took your parents from you, and you were going to make sure they couldn't hurt anyone ever again. So, Zemo had been the obvious choice to help gain as much information as possible in your quest.

So, over the course of 2 years, you had made several trips to see him. You could almost say you were on friendly terms, but mostly, you believed his kindness and willingness to provide information was a benefit to him. To interact with someone on the outside to remind him he's not completely alone in the world.

The last time you saw each other was a day like any other you would come to visit. You'd lean outside his glass cell and just talk. The prison only allotted an hour's visit. So you always had to make your time worth while.

This particular day was colder than usual for the time of year. And being left outside the prison hallway where Zemo's cell was located only caused the draft to further lower the temperature with the concrete walls. You had involuntarily shivered as a cold draft had blasted in from one of hallways. Zemo had taken notice and unzipped his hoodie, passing it off to the guard to hand over to you. In that moment, the realization came that things were no longer black and white between the two of you. When you asked him why, he simply shrugged and said it's what any gentleman should do. His expression had softened though and was no longer outwardly indifferent. You had put on the blue garment and zipped it up; tugging at the sleeves as the hoodie was much larger on your frame than his.

There was only about 30 minutes left of your visit when alarm bells started going off. Zemo had pushed himself against the glass to look down the closest hallway to try and see what was going on. You had tried to remain calm, but when the guard standing nearby had disappeared right in front of you both, you knew something was dreadfully wrong.

With visible panic on your face, you had whispered out the word Thanos to Zemo. You'll never forget what happened next or the expression on his face. There was a hitch in your lungs and a strong tugging sensation drifting through your chest. You stumbled into the glass and fell to your knees in front of Zemo. You had slumped onto your side trying to concentrate on what was happening to you. You peered up at Zemo as he had slid himself down the glass to your level gazing at you in concern. You could hear him shouting for help, but there was no one around. You placed your hand on the glass to get his attention, and only then did you realize, you had tears in your eyes.

He brought his hand up on the other side of the glass and placed it against where yours was. Funny how an instance can change everything between two people. You saw his eyes widen and that's when you noticed the right side of your body started to turn to dust. All you had time to say was, "I'm sorry," before you completely disintegrated before him, leaving him, no doubt, alone once again.

You would have laughed at the expression on his face now if you knew it hadn't been the first time he's seen you since....what happened. But there was nothing really funny about the situation.

You weren't quite sure what to do, but your feet made the decision for you as you slowly made your way to stand directly in front of Zemo.

It's the first time you've stood together without any glass between you both. He's a bit taller than you, but not by miles; you're chin roughly comes up to his shoulder.

You see him swallow as if he's also thinking of something to say, but instead you see him raise his hand up and start to reach out to touch you, but stops before actually doing it. Internally, you make your choice for him and reach up with your hand and grab the one he's left hanging in the air. It's just a light touch, almost as if you're both worried the other might not be real.

Zemo glanced down at you holding onto his hand and back at you briefly. He squeezed your hand gently and then you heard him release a harsh breath before gripping your hand tighter and yanking you into his arms.

You barely had time to think about what was happening before you were enveloped into the most emotional hug you've ever felt.

The reaction was unexpected, but then so were the circumstances you were in, so nothing should really surprise you, but you were. Your arms were slightly hovering over his back, not entirely sure at that moment what you wanted to do, as you were still in shock. But, after a brief pause you brought your arms firmly around his body and hugged Zemo back with just as much care and buried your face in the crook of his shoulder. You heard him mumbling words into the side of your head, but couldn't understand what he was really saying.

Time could have been standing still for the infinite period we were latched onto one another. It wasn't until the clearing of Bucky's throat that jarred us out of the moment. The noise wasn't loud, but the room had been so silent until then; it sounded like a freight train.

Realization must have hit us both at the same time that we weren't alone in the room, and we jumped apart as if lightning had struck us both.

At this point, you were looking at anything in room, but Zemo. You started playing with the ends of your sleeves in nervousness when Sam spoke up in a very slow and deliberate manner, "Would you care to explain to us, what is going on?"

"I thought you were going to have Bucky explain to me, why Zemo's not in prison!" you say back, not ready at all to try and explain things. You still needed to wrap your own head around it, before attempting to share your brief history with Zemo.

"Oh, no doll. This can wait," James answered. You could tell he was not happy, but maybe more confused than anything by how he responded.

Both were assessing Zemo to try and figure out if this is some sort of game to him. Bucky had reached out to grab your arm and pulled you gently away from the criminal mastermind and closer to them to instinctually protect you from him.

You outwardly sighed, knowing there was a long conversation about to happen.

Zemo took a step forward and James took a step back bringing you with him. Sam seemed perturbed over the entire situation, but Zemo spoke up first.

"Is that, what I think it is?" he said. Zemo cocked his head to the side and eyed you with amusement.

You silently shook off the hold Bucky has on you and raise an eyebrow at him to not try that again. You swiveled back to Zemo, placing your hands on your hips. Confusion was written clearly on your face as you answered him back, "Could you be a little less vague?" A small smile graced your face in reply.

Zemo pointed at your midsection and a smug expression appeared on his face.

"I must say, you look quite fetching in my clothes."

You were physically startled by his comment. You had forgotten you were wearing his hoodie. It's why you went to Germany. To return it to him, but when you found out he was no longer there, you realized you were going to have to either keep it permanently or track him down. Sam's call came in before you could make that decision. Fate really is something else.

Your hands grabbed the fabric of the hoodie as you closed your eyes and ducked your head. You could feel the embarrassment threatening to turn your whole face red.

You started to shuffled away knowing an immediate outburst was coming from both of her friends. What Zemo just said, implied so many different things. So, of course Sam and Bucky would start shouting without having any context to the situation of how you acquired a piece of his clothing.

If the floor could have opened up at that moment, you would have appreciated it.

Sam and Bucky were both visibly upset and clearly about to start a fight with Zemo, but thankfully Sam, being the more even tempered of the group, stopped Bucky from doing anything. He had shrugged off Sam and stared at you with hurt on his face.

You exhaled shakily as things started to calm down. You dared to catch a glimpse of Zemo, and of course, out of everyone here, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy causing the chaos he wrought with his sly comment.

If looks could kill, he would have been flayed alive.

"Enough," you said to everyone. It was time to clear the air. "Let's all just take a seat."

You had gotten exasperated by the entire situation and turned to Bucky and Sam, "Do you automatically have to jump to conclusions? Do you not think there is a perfectly logical explanation, somewhere?" You had slapped your hands down by your sides and turned to Zemo. He looked as if he were about to say something, but you cut him off pointing a finger at him.

"And you. Big trouble. Don't even get me started."

As you stared at Zemo; he at least had the decency to appear somewhat contrite at your scolding. You could still tell he was mildly amused about the whole situation.

You saw Sam had taken a seat and started to wave you over to where he and Bucky were.

"Start talking," he said.

"I'm not sure where to start," you answered, pacing back and forth.

"How about the beginning?" Bucky parroted out arms crossed in front of him, he was clearly still a bit defensive.

"The beginning. Right. Sure. I can do that," you stopped to think about how to start, but everything just seemed to be as if you were actually hiding something from them, when you weren't. It just never came up, and The Blip was emotional for everyone.

Truth be told, you would like to avoid this conversation at all costs. For many reasons, some you're not ready to deal with.

Zemo had spoke up while you were deciding how to broach the subject at hand.

"If I may," he spoke.

The three of us had answered him simultaneously, "No!"

Yeah, it was going to be a long day.

OOOOO

#helmut zemo #baron zemo #tfatws #sam wilson #bucky barnes #helmut zemo x reader #fanfic #my writing #oh god #this is probably terrible #i only quickly wrote this when i woke up #so i hope it's not too bad of a read

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tanakavox · 3 years

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The screen runs again as shows the red coated Jaune standing around looking annoyed as a voice calls out to him.

"Hey look it's half demon Jaune again!" Nora cheered.

"...Half what? Coco deadpan.

"Jaune in this universe is the son of Ozpin,who's a demon who saved all of humanity. Cinder is like his twins or something." Yang quickly brought the others to speed.

"Teach is a demon?" Coco asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Wait who's the mom then?" Velvet asked, confused.

"That's….. A very good question. We didn't get an answer to that. Yang mused.

"I just wanna know who this person with the annoying voice was." Whitley muttered

"Another good question that we don't get answers to. Sorry."

"Thanks for destroying the lock for me, devil boy! And welcome to hell! Please accept my gift. Don't be humble, just take it. After all, we are buddies aren't we?" The voice the viewers recozinge as Jester as she cackles loudly.

A fountain of blood flows onto the statues which bring out blood bat-based demons called Blood-goyles flies toward Jaune and he cuts it in half with a casual swipe from his sword.

Jaune shakes his head in disappointment. "Well, isn't that special. To be honest, I'm expecting something a little better than this," Jaune then goes to dispatch them and leaves on his way to find Cinder.

The scene cuts to Jaune walking in front of a door with two statues and stopping when they began to start talking. Jaune doesn't look a bit shocked.

"Look brother, it's been ages, but we finally have company," one called Rudra said gleefully.

"I see that," The other is called Agni simply.

"We must entertain our guest."

"You're right. We have to be gracious hosts."

"Brother, what should we do?" Rudra asked.

"How do I know? We need to come up with something," Agni stated.

Jaune began to get impantice pacing back and forward and sighed.

"I don't blame him for getting impantice. These guys are annoying." Mercury stated. He was already starting not like these guys.

"Oh come on they weren't even talking!" Ruby pointed out glaring at Mercury.

"Still annoying."

Rudra took notice with this. "Brother, our guest is... sighing."

"SIGH? What is... SIGH?" Agni asked, a bit confused.

"Well a sigh is when -" Rudra was about to answer until he was cut off by their guest.

"Enough already!" Jaune said, finally snapping, "How long are you two gonna keep carrying on like this? In case you didn't get the hint, I'll spell it out. Your guest wants to go through. Got it."

"Our job here is to guard this door," Rudra said the statue was moving a bit.

"That's right! We can't let you pass," Agni added his piece.

(After Agni & Rudra battle)

"Wow, he took them out without much effort." Fiona said wide eyed.

"That kinda sums up this Jaune huh? He didn't have much trouble with the last guy either. Nora responded with a huge grin.

"He's gonna die when he gets to Cinder though. Emerald said with a smirk. "Remember what happened at the start. Nora turns to glare at her.

"Shut up!" She barked.

After their bodies were defeated in battle, both demon swords spun around in the air until they fell and got stuck on the ground in a crossed-blades position. They see Jaune walking towards the exit of the room, about to leave them behind.

"Wait!" Rudra cried out to Jaune.

Against his better thinking, Jaune turns around to acknowledge the two demon guards

"Yes, wait. We have been waiting for a long time," Agni said after his brother.

"Yes, a very long time," Rudra echoed.

"For someone stronger than us."

"Someone who can control us."

"My name is Agni," the red demon sword said.

"And my name is Rudra. You shall take us with you," The blue demon sword stated.

"We could be a great help to you!" Both brothers said as one.

Jaune took a moment to think about their offer. They were pretty strong together and seeing as how he's already let Cereberus tag along, he could use these two as Devil Arms as well. "Okay, but on one condition," He pressed.

"What is it?" Agni asked ecstatically.

"Name it!" Rudra sharing his brother's joy stated.

Jaune points to both brothers, "No talking!" While they were a strong force together, he would not deal with their constant chit-chat along the way.

"Thank god he said it." Mercury stated.

"Much as I hate to agree with you but yeah." Jaune piped up.

"Jaune!" Ruby cried, lightning punching him in the arm. Jaune raised his arms defensively

"I'm sorry Rubes, But they're really annoying.

"Fair enough!" Agni agreed to the blonde's terms.

"As you wish," Rudra echoed his agreement.

Jaune picks up the two swords and does a kata. The force of every swing of the two swords generated sharp winds and scorching flames. By the end, Jaune couldn't help but smile in satisfaction at how amazing these Devil Arms were and how strong they felt in his hands.

"... That was so cool." Ruby whispered with stars in her eyes.

"Impressive," The blue brother praised his new master.

Jaune flips the swords and bangs the two brother's heads together. "No talking," He repeated their agreement.

Neither Agni or Rudra said anything more, almost like they really were inanimate objects.

"Good," Jaune said in satisfaction, having peace and quiet again.

—

The scene changes to show the young crimsonette walk stealthily down a corridor with a gun in hand, the sounds of heavy steps closing in around her.

"Hey look! It's me! Ruby cheered. She didn't get to show up alot in this movie so far. But she started to get worried. It looked like she was about to get ambushed.

It's all of a sudden when a group of Pride Hell's attempt to ambush her. She's able to evade the swings of their scythe weapons thanks to her fast reflexes, allowing her to retrieve a second pistol from a holster. She shoots at two of the Hells and continues to fire in quick succession. One of the Hells thrusted the blunt pommel of their scythe in her direction, Ruby's able to dodge the strike by hopping on top of it and evade multiple swings directed at her in an expert show of her athletic ability. She continues to return fire to them as they continue to advance.

"WHOOO GO RUBY!" Yang cheered as she went to town on the demons.

Even when she gets cornered she has a plan. Ruby kicked two Hells back with her legs, a gift for each of them in the form of grenades. The explosion results in the Hells along with herself being propelled into the air. She doesn't give them a chance to recover as she continues to send bullets their way via cyclone of death. She finds footing on an embedded scythe in the wall, she fires at a nearby Hell and then uses the scythe as a high bar as a means to continue her attack on the rest of the Hells while performing many acts of peak acrobatic ability and gunfire. Eventually she finds herself upside down, her only support was her feet hooked around two embedded poles. The Hells take this opportunity to strike against Ruby together, they never seem to learn.

"Which version of Ruby seems very skilled,'' Weiss mused.

"You say that like you believe I'm not skilled now Ruby said smiling at Weiss. Weiss doesn't say anything as Ruby stares at her. She pouted at the former heiress. "I'm skilled Weiss!"

"Yes. Of Course Ruby." Weiss replies with a smirk.

Ruby turns to Jaune to get him on her side but stops when she noticed that Jaune crossed his legs tightly and was staring at the screen intently.

"Uh Jaune? Why did you cross your legs so tightly?"

Jaune turns to Ruby wide eyed and stutters out an answer. "Uh I-i just feel more comfortable like this!" No way he was gonna tell Ruby watching her go to town on demons was hot to him. Ruby stares at him for a few seconds and goes back to the movie.

Deciding it was time to bring out the big guns, Ruby draws out her trusty Crescent Rose and fires a missile at the ground beneath her. The explosion knocks back the Hells while propelling her into the air once more. Ruby lands onto the ground in a crouch position with no signs of harm throughout the ordeal. As she looks around, she releases a sigh of relief as the Hells were no longer a threat. She tugs her darling back on her shoulder and continues on, as she leaves the screen pans to an overhead shot to see that the charred remains of the ground resembling a '6.'

Ruby is now seen on a balcony of Temen-ni-gru, reloading her arsenal, sitting on a rock until she hears a voice come from behind her. Upon recognizing the voice she immediately pulls out one of her guns.

"Well, well... You've grown stronger," Raven said as she approached the young woman.

"Mom." Yang had a dark look on her face.

"What does she want with Ruby? Blake asks.

"If you shut your yap you may find out." Mercury said nonchalantly causing Blake to glare at him.

"Go to Hell," She raises her pistol directly towards Raven's face.

"You point a gun at me? Your own kin? Your dear Auntie?" Raven said as though she were truly shocked.

Ruby's face twists in rage, "The only family I ever had was my sister, and she's dead!"

"SHE KILLED ME?!" Yang yelled out in shock? The rest of her team and friends were in shock as well. Qrow couldn't believe it. Yang and Raven never really had a good relationship but he didn't think Raven would kill her own daughter.

Ruby shoots with her pistol four times, but finds that Raven has vanished. She draws out a SMG and aims both guns to her left and right in case Raven could get the jump on her. She scans around her surroundings for any signs of Raven only to find nothing. That only left one direction left uncheck... was above!

"You break my heart. After all, it was I who gave you your name. My darling niece!" Raven yells as she stares at Ruby while hanging upside down on the balcony roof.

Ruby was about to shoot when Raven's book dropped on her face blocking her vision. Raven takes this opportunity to get the jump on Ruby and throws her niece off the platform. Before she was out of Raven's sight, she felt her cheek get grazed by one of Ruby's bullets that she fired her way.

"That should have gone into her head!" Yang screamed, her eyes glowing red. Qrow couldn't help but agree with his niece.

Ruby continues falling Temen-ni-gru, that is until Jaune catches sight of her falling and proceeds to catch her by one of her boots. She looks at what stopped her fall and upon recognizing the boy in red, points both her guns at him.

Jaune looks down at the girl with a grin, pleased to see this interesting girl again. "Well, this is my kind of rain. No wonder the sky looks so funny today," He said while looking up at the cloudy sky.

"Getting bold ain't ya Bondie?" Qrow said, turning to Jaune who gave him an annoyed look.

"Yeah? And you want me to what Old man?" He snapped.

Qrow growled knowing he couldn't do anything.

"Let me go!" Ruby yelled.

"Don't say that stupid" Ruby yelled at the other version of herself.

Jaune looked at her with surprise, "Let you go? But it would be a waste if you ended up as just a pretty stain."

"Smooth Arc. Smooth." Coco teased as Jaune faces red at his alternate self boldness with his best friend.

Ruby having enough this guy's talk shoots him in his head. When the bullet makes contact with Jaune's face, it causes him to let go of the girl which results in her fall down again. This time however she's able to use the blade of Crescent Rose as a means to stop her fall. As she hangs off her weapon, she hears the sound of footst coming from the platform above.

"NO ME NO!" Ruby yelled out in horror at the fact she possibly killed her best friend.

"Huh look at that. He died earlier than I thought." Emerald laughed.

Jaune peers over the edge of the platform at the girl, sporting a bleeding bullet wound on his forehead and a miffed expression, "What the hell was that for? Here I am trying to help you and you show your thanks by shooting me?"

"Oh thanks goodness." Ruby sighed in relief.

"We shouldn't be too surprised. Getting stabbed several times with scythe only made him mad." Oscar pointed out.

Ruby, very confused with how he's even standing, responds by shooting him again.

The bullet once again makes contact, however, Jaune is able to react quickly enough to catch it between his teeth. After spitting the offending bullet out of his mouth he decides it would be in his best interest to ditch the girl, "Whatever, do as you please."

"God me! You just lost your chance at getting a friend!" Ruby said in a disapproving tone.

Ruby lowers her gun as she's finally able to pick up why she's been having a bad feeling about this guy, "So he's a demon too."

As he leaves, Jaune cleans off a bit of leftover blood from his face and wipes it on the wall. "I'm beginning to think I've got rotten luck with women," The line of fresh blood drips down the wall, creating the image of a '7.'

—

The scene changes to the very top of Temen-ni-gru, there stands a black haired woman in the rain, a ethereal full moon shining its light in the night sky, and the only sound that was present was the roaring winds in the air.

The silence would soon be broken as the sound of approaching footsteps began to come up the stairs. Jaune approaches the platform, finally making it to the top of the large tower that was Temen-ni-gru. After fighting multiple demons just to get here he was finally met with his gracious hostess, Cinder.

Cinder turned her head to address her guest, already knowing who it was, "...You showed up," She smiled.

Cinder sat forward in her seat. Ready to see herself destroy this weakening again.

Jaune walks up to her, while twirling Ivory in his hands. There was a smile on his face as he paced around the platform, "You sure know how to throw a party. No food, no drinks, and the only babe just left." Jaune lightheartedly pokes at his sister's very poor party preparation.

"My sincerest apology, brother. I was so eager to see you I couldn't concentrate on the preparations for the bash," Cinder replies with a warmth that was difficult to tell if it was genuine or not.

D-do they hate each other?" Oscar asks. "They seem pretty happy to see each other."

Jaune brushes it off continuing his pacing, "Whatever. At any rate, it's been a whole year since we last met. How about a kiss from your little brother? Or better yet, how about a kiss from this?"

Jaune immediately points Ivory directly at Cinder. The sound of lightning and thunder echoed throughout the dark sky, signaling the change in the atmosphere around the two siblings.

"So, this is what they call a heart warming family reunion eh…" Jaune questions as his face grinned, expressing that he was ready for a fight,

Cinder's eyes darkened, her facial expression becoming cold but determined, "You got that right."

Cinder opens up Yamato with her thumb, its blade gleaming in the moonlight.

"Take down, Fearless leader" Nora cheered.

"Heh. Come red. We both know how this is gonna end up."" Mercury said chuckling at her.

"I thought I told you to shut up?" Nora hissed.

—

Jaune and Cinder separated from each other, both breathing heavily from the battle, after fighting so intensely they took a moment to catch their breath. Their fight in the rain had lasted for some time, as evidenced by Cinder's hair being flat down, wet from all the rainwater.

Jaune is able to recover first so he takes Rebellion and starts charging at his sister, Rebellion's tip generating sparks as he drags it on the ground. Cinder recovers in time to evade his attempted strike, giving her the opportunity to parry with Yamato.

Jaune spins Rebellion with both hands then thrusted the sword towards Cinder, who then sidesteps the blade's path. She rotates Yamato to hold the katana backhanded, following up by knocking Jaune backwards with its kashira (pommel). Both of them quickly clashed their blades together, resulting in both of them being knocked back, Jaune having already off his feet is knocked the farthest back.

Jaune skits to one of the pillars standing on the platform, stopping his backwards momentum. He quickly draws out Ebony from her holster, and fires seven shots at his brunette sibling. The bullets are seen speeding towards Cinder who begins spinning Yamato in a quick rotating motion, deflecting three of the bullets while catching the remaining four that were originally aimed towards her.

Cinder places the caught bullets on the floor with Yamato in single file and then returns them to her blonde brother. Jaune sees the returning bullets coming towards him but he quickly lifts Rebellion over his head and is able to quickly slice through them, which then burst behind him.

"...That was fucking cool. Mercury stated and no one disagreed with him

Cinder points Yamato at him, her face expressing her frustration towards her brother, "Why do you refuse to gain power? The power of our father Ozma?"

"I thought you guys said that teacher was their dad?" Coco turned to everyone with a raised eyebrow.

"He is, that's just his real name." Blake said with a sigh. "It's a long story. Don't ask." Coco shrugs and goes back to the movie.

Jaune, after using Rebellion to help him stand, looks at Cinder as if she told him a bad joke, "Father? I don't have a father. I just don't like you, that's all."

Ozpin's heart ached hearing Jaune say that. He knew that they weren't his kids in his universe but the fact that any kids of his were fighting at all as well one of his sons rejecting him, hurted.

A moment of silence passes before the two siblings charge at each other once more, both of their swords clash against the other, while both Jaune and Cinder stare the other down. The spot where both Yamato and Rebellion met begins turning a bright orange, the generated sparks and heat being caused by the force behind both blades, as the two continue staring down the other. The whining of two metals being tested is heard, Jaune seemed to be exerting everything he had, while Cinder showed no apparent signs of exertion at all. The struggle is finally ended when Cinder strikes Rebellion away from her brother's grasp, the large sword spinning in the air until it strikes against the ground, timed perfectly as Cinder impales Jaune with Yamato.

Cinder smirks as she hears the cries of the blonde fools friends as her blade sinks into his stomach. Today was a good day. Two universes where she totally domanations. She turns to Jaune to see his reaction. To her disappointment the blonde didn't react much. Only had a stoic expression. Jaune knew he was gonna lose but didn't want to give the bitch the satisfaction of his disappointment.

His blood trickles down onto the floor and Yamato itself while Jaune grasps at the blade that was impaling his abdomen.

Cinder looks down at her impaled sibling, her face expressing neither joy or satisfaction in the act, only disappointment, "Foolishness, Jaune, foolishness. Might control everything. And without strength, you can't protect anything. Let alone yourself."

Cinder agreed with her counterpart but didn't really care on how she wasn't enjoying her other self with her impaling the fool.

"She... looks disappointed?" Mercury echoed Cinder's thoughts.

"Maybe they do love others? In some kinda weird way?" Ruby said, scratching her head in confusion.

Cinder forcibly removes Jaune from Yamato's blade then takes his amulet from him and leaves a slash on Jaune's sleeve. She looks at the amulet in her hand for a moment, fixes her hair back to its original shape, and starts to walk away but not before taking hold of Rebellion. When Jaune tries to get up, Cinder turns around and quickly impales him with his own sword.

A pan up shot shows Jaune as his blood begins pooling under him, Rebellion pinning his body to the floor.

"Do you finally have it?" Cinder turns around and there she sees Raven standing behind her, seeming to have just arrived.

"Yes. Now the spell Ozma cast will be broken," Cinder says to the scarred woman.

"Spell?" Velvet asked

"Ozpin in this universe sealed the demon world from the human alongside all of his power.

"And Cinder and Raven want to open the gate to the demon realm to get his power?" Yatshu finally speaks up.

Jaune lays on the platform unconscious, seeming like he is dead… until the skull on Rebellion changes form and the sword is launched into the air, the water rises behind Jaune as he charges ahead and tries to attack Cinder.

She quickly blocks Jaune's fist with Yamato, resulting in his hand being covered in blood as the blade sliced through it. Unlike before, Jaune's face shows no evidence of being in pain due to the injury, instead his face shows significant rage towards Cinder.

"I see, the devil inside you has awakened as well," Cinder said to him. This time showing a peaked interest.

"Holy shit Blondie doesn't that hurt?!" Fiona cried out wincing in pain just watching Jaune's hands sink into the blade.

Jaune forces his impaled arm through Yamato, his tissue healing at such an astonishing rate as once his hand is removed it shows no sign of damage or deformity. He grabs the blade once more, then uses his newfound strength to fling Cinder over his shoulder.

"Interesting. It seems like the boy's regen has increased incredibly."Salem mused on learning forward. "They seem more like my children than your Opsin." She smiles at him mocking but it dropped when Nora spoke.

"Probably because you are their mom."Nora replied nonchalantly while still looking at the movie.

Salem took pauses at this and took a closer look at Jaune in the movie and the one in the theater. She got a weird feeling from him, but she decided to push it to the back of her head and just decided the pink one was talking nonsense.

Cinder lands on her feet soon after, preparing to fight him once more before she is stopped by Raven's voice from behind her, "Wait. We should leave. For the moment we have all that we need."

A white aura surrounds Jaune as he walks towards them, his eyes dulled and his steps heavy as he slowly begins triggering the demon inside of him. It was at this time that Cinder and Raven walked away, jumping off the edge of Temen-ni-gru, letting him transform into his Devil Form for the very first time. After releasing an inhuman roar, Jaune falls to the ground unconscious, returning to his human form.

"Holy shit what was that?!" Ruby looked at Jaune in shock.

"Is that what Cinder meant when she said Jaune unlocked the devil inside of him? Because that is a badass looking devil man!" Mercury shouted, getting hyped up.

—

After some time has passed, Jaune awakens once more and gets up off of the ground. The rain having stopped results in many of the clouds to clear up, one of them showing a figure of an '8.' He rips the broken portion of the sleeve from his jacket, then picks up Rebellion. Jaune finds them gone, feeling defeated he slams his fist at the nearest pillar, which results in the top portion of the structure to explode. Jaune looks at what he's done and he discovers he has awakened newfound power, it surprisingly felt...good.

"Oh know that look." Yang had a knowing smile.

Next thing Jaune knows, he jumps off the top of Temen-ni-gru, beginning his pursuit to get his amulet back from his sister and that scarred woman. During his plummet he decides to test his new capabilities on incoming demons. The incoming Blood-goyles will do nicely.

He slays large quantities of the Blood-goes with extraordinary ease, all of his speed, strength, and agility had increased so much that he was like a blur to the normal eye. He throws Rebellion at a number of Blood-golyes, quickly impaling and to finish the job he fires Ebony at the swords pommel, increasing the speed of his sword so much that it reaches terminal velocity. Jaune chases after Rebellion until his outstretched arm is able to reach the same speed as his falling sword. Once he's able to grasp it, Jaune launches himself off of Temin-ni-grun at a horizontal angle.

"... I hate the fact that I've said that's badass to this guy more there once. Mercury muttered.

This new power felt amazing to him, he felt invincible. Powerful. Unstoppable…

That's when the giant Leviathan in the sky showed up and swallowed him whole.

Salem eyes widen at the sight of the giant whale. "Richard?!" she took a closer look and realized that it was not Richard and settled down/

—

The scene changes to a separate corridor of the tower, where both Cinder and Raven appear before an enormous locked door.

Raven is seen looking into her book, very focused on its contents, starts sharing her knowledge with Cinder, "People once cried out in fear of this tower. Temen-ni-gru, a foundation that brought out fear. Fear. Yes, fear. Can't you feel it? The rage and agonies of people. Those who are confined here... with their desires of evil being unfulfilled... It was all because Ozma slammed the door to the Demon World in their faces…"

Raven looks towards the gate as it begins to unlock its many safeguards. Once they undone, the doors opened, allowing the two to continue forward.

Raven before continuing on turns around to see if someone she knows followed them.

"What's wrong?" Cinder asked the distracted Raven.

"...Nothing," Raven replies, obviously lying to her about her true concerns.

"I hope Ruby comes and ends up shooting you in the head, you witch. Yang said seething with rage.

"Same here." Qrow growled in agreement.

Without another word being said, the two women begin making their way deeper into the tower of Temen-ni-gru.

—

As soon as Jaune finished destroying Leviathan's heart, the titanic beast let out a final bloodcurdling scream as it fell to the ground.

Ruby is seen somewhere outside of the tower continuing her search until she sees an enormous whale plummet to the ground. The force of the beast as it crashed down shook the very earth where she stood, its shock felt all across the tower and even by those in the lower levels. Even Cinder and Raven took note of the aftershock of the Leviathan, even if they dismissed it completely after a few seconds.

"Holy shit he just killed that Whale by himself." Coco looked on in wonder.

"Okay guys I'm blind. What the hell happened?" Fox asked, getting a bit annoyed.

"Oh sorry Fox! Uh Jaune killed a giant whale and is now covered in blood."

"Oh. That's really cool." Fox said simply.

The young crimsonette finds where the corpse of the demon landed and witnesses as its blood colored eye is being slashed as Jaune, having finally got out of the oversized whale that swallowed him. Although he did end up being covered head to toe in its blood, so it was a Pyrrhic victory.

"So, this is the next stage?" Jaune thought out loud, thinking he was by himself.

"Wait!" A voice called out behind him.

Jaune turns around to see that it was the same girl from before, and having recalled their last meeting, he had a sour feeling towards her, "If you're asking for a date, forget it. Because I made it a point not to go out with women who shoot me in the head." Emphasizing his point by pointing to a specific spot on his forehead, where he knows she shot him.

"That's a deal breaker most. You're a meanie for doing that Ruby." Nora teased the redhead. She sinks into her seat with a pout.

Ruby scoffed, "Date a demon? I'm not that desperate. Besides, I really don't care for guys who stink like blood."

Jaune quickly sniffs at his clothes, then double takes at how bad the Leviathan's blood reeked, "You're right."

That got a laugh out of most of the viewers. But Ruby shook her head a bit. She just didn't get it. A few years ago, She and Jaune were dating, but now they hate each other. It was weird and it made her feel odd. But she keeps watching.

The mood suddenly changed when both Jaune and Ruby pulled out their guns, however, they weren't aiming at each other. Soon enough, a swarm of Demons ambushed them, causing both of them to form an unofficial alliance to fight off all the various demons.

During the shootout between them and the Pride Hells the two moved back to back for a defensive advantage. Seeing as they had time to kill, Jaune thought he should get to know this mystery girl he had allied himself with, "So tell me, what's your name?"

"I don't have a name," the crimsonette quickly replied, not wanting to get buddy-buddy with a demon.

"Uh… But that Raven chick said she named you Ruby earlier." Coco pointed out.

Not dissuaded in the slightest, Jaune continues to ask questions, "Oh, then what should I call you?"

"I don't care. Whatever you want," Ruby plainly replies, she would rather be focused on killing these Hell Prides than getting distracted by chit-chat.

Jaune laughs as he jumps over a group of incoming demons, then turns back to call out to the crimsonette, "Whatever Lady. I'll leave this to you. Because I don't want to miss the party."

"Lady? That's the best you could come up with?" Yang looked unimpressive.

"More concerned that he just ditched Ruby." Blake said, crossing her arms.

"She did shoot him in the head. Might not want to deal with her," Weiss reminded her team to which Blake nods her head in agreement.

Ruby scoffed, "Who counted on you anyway?"

With the red coat demon gone, she continues fighting against the Hells. The screen shows one of her bullet shells that fell to the ground, the ammunition being a '9. millimeter'

—

Jaune enters a gothic structured room, with a stage and all. He was left wondering where the gatekeeper of this room was until a cauldron of bats emerged in the room. They all form into one shape, which happens to look like an extremely attractive redhead with deathly pale skin and crimson eyes, who'd hair acted as a covering for her bare upper body.

Jaune has to admit, as far as demons went for deceiving their prey, this was new. He liked new things.

Nevan looks upon this new guest with great interest and hunger, "Hmm, welcome sir. Is this your first time here?"

"Yeah it is. You'll be nice to me won't you?" Jaune asked her, playing along with her game.

Ruby's eyes dimmed as she turned to Jaune and muttered out "Filth." Which left the Blonde confused.

"What do I do?" He asked but Ruby didn't answer him. What should I do?!" He asked her again but still received no answer.

Nevan laughs sweetly at her guests request, one that was intended to lower his guard, "Of course I will. I'll treat you so nicely, you'll never want to leave."

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Jaune says before drawing Rebellion, making his point clear to his hostess that he wasn't here for that kind of fun.

Nevan, now knowing her guest was not a typical desire driven human, concedes to play with him for a little while. She walks towards her stage until she looks back at her blonde guest, "Then come on, Sugar."

—

Nevan falls back in defeat, or would have had Jaune not catch her in his left arm, "My, you're sweet."

Thinking she has him fooled, Nevan tries lunging at Jaune's throat before feeling her abdomen being penetrated by a bullet from Ivory.

Jaune laughs, "You'd think so, wouldn't you?"

"Good job Jaune." Ruby cheered with a wide smile which left him even more confused as she was just mad at him a few seconds ago.

Nevan also laughed, already knowing she was beaten, having already decided that it would be much easier on herself if she would surrender to him, "Alright. I'll help you. Your father was a handsome devil, but you're no slouch yourself."

"Salem blinked at the she-devil's comment on her ex's looks. And frankly she didn't appreciate it. She wanted to make sure Ozpin never knew happiness with another woman and thankfully her… possibable son killed her.

After giving up her physical form, Nevan transformed into the Devil Arm "Nevan"... an demonic electric guitar.

While performing an amazing death metal solo, Jaune showcases "Nevan's" unique ability as both a demonic guitar and an electrified scythe. The end of his act ending in a shower of fireworks and sparks.

Ruby let out a shriek at Jaune's new weapon. "It's not fair! I want an electric scythe guitar she whines."

"He plays better on the guitar than he did at beacon though." Weiss said with a teasing smirk at Jaune, who stuck his tongue out at her.

—

Meanwhile, Ruby continues to fight against the Hell Prides, utilizing her full arsenal on them while she simultaneously reloads all her weapons throughout the fight. From her pistol to her Crescent Rose.

When all the Hell Prides had been slain, a falling pistol from the sky is caught by the crimsonette, who smiled at its return.

"Welcome back!" Ruby said.

After packing all of her things, she makes her way towards the next entrance, continuing towards her end goal.

—

Raven and Cinder make their way to the final door to their destination, their end goal within their grasp.

Raven expresses excitement to Cinder, having finally been so close to their goal, "Soon we will reach the lair of judgement. Temen-ni-gru will finally regain its full function and lead us into the Demon World. The world where Ozma's power has been sealed. And the one who will lift the incantation is you, his own daughter. It must be fate."

Before they enter the chamber, Raven looks to check back the way they came, Cinder stops walking concerned of the woman's actions.

"Does that woman really bother you?" Cinder asked Raven.

Raven looked at the brunette quizzically, "What are you talking about?"

Looking back at the older woman, Cinder made her thoughts clear, "Why didn't you kill her? Perhaps, because she is your niece? Did some pesky auntie love get in your way?"

"... Why didn't she kill Ruby?" Yang realized Cinder brought up a good point. Raven was fine killing herself but didn't kill Ruby when she got the chance. It was odd.

Raven immediately became defensive in her body language and tone, "That is none of your-"

Raven is cut off when Cinder impales her in the abdomen, causing her to drop her book. Her blood trickles down onto the surface of the book, the drops that landed vaguely reminiscent of the number '10.'

While looking at the wounded Raven, Cinder decided it was time that she shared some of her own background knowledge, relating to Raven specifically, "To further your study of the black arts, you sacrificed your loving daughter, to become a devil as well. Knowing this I thought you'd be more useful to me, but I was wrong. No wonder your attainment of power is incomplete."

"... I'm not surprised my sister did this all in the search of power" Qrow muttered.

Cinder was incredibly giddy on getting her revenge on Raven, Even though it was technically her, it was close enough and she bathed in the scene with great glee.

Raven coughed up some of her blood, trickling from her mouth, before she exchanged an enraged glare towards Cinder, "What about you? You're an incomplete being as well. Both demon and human blood mingle in your veins. You dare judge me, even after you abandoned your own infant child-"

Cinder forcibly removes Yamato from Raven abdomen, her face showing genuine anger, "Shut up. Now that the final door is open, I have no use for you."

Without another word or glance, Cinder left Raven to lie at the entrance of the door as the old woman bleeds out. She has already come this far in her quest for power, she will not allow another minute pass while she is kept away from her birthright.

Everyone in the theater went dead silent at the bombshell Raven had just dropped. No one said a word and they all slowly turned toward Cinder with widen eyes with the expectation of Salem who had a mixture of anger and disappointment on her face. Cinder only look at the floor shaking as the words finally sinked in for herself.

"I… have a child?" She whispered to her in disbelief.

37 notes · View notes

sundaysundaes · 3 years

Text

Remember Me

Mark Lee X Reader X Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) | Smut, Fluff, Angst | 14k | Soulmate AU, Friends-to-Lovers AU

CHAPTER 2 OF 2. Part 1 is here.

Summary: “The mysterious cuts and bruises that suddenly appear are actually injuries that your soulmate has obtained, and you share the same marks on your skin.” For Donghyuck and Mark, it's not just an old saying, it's not merely a concept, it's the truth. But as they grow older in a world where everyone puts their faith in the marks that attach their hearts to their soulmates, they have to stop believing.

Notes: This used to be an EXO Fanfic of mine called Remember Me but I want to share this story with my NCT family as well, so I rewrote several things and added more scenes to fit Mark and Haechan’s personalities better.

It takes Lee Donghyuck approximately ten times to ask Mark Lee to join their soccer game before he realizes that maybe Mark just really hates playing soccer. Or just doing sports in general, for that matter.

“I’ve told you, I don’t want to!” Mark shouts, cheeks reddening in anger. Donghyuck holds up both hands in the air, backing away. Mark is twenty-one years-old while Donghyuck is a year younger. Since Mark needed to be treated at the facility for his injuries back when he was in high school, he had to repeat another year and so he registered late in his new university in Seoul. Seeing how he’s a freshman like him with no friend other than Zhong Chenle in college, Donghyuck thinks they should get along better. Donghyuck has always been friendly and nice to anyone around him—Yukhei would agree on this straight away—but sadly, not everyone replies to him in the same way.

“Okay, okay,” Donghyuck says, laughing softly at Mark’s little burst of anger. “Chill, man. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought that maybe you wanted to play because, you know, you kept looking at us—”

“I wasn’t looking,” Mark harshly responds, tearing his gaze away from the other boy to glance at the girl who owns his heart since forever. “Well, I wasn’t actually looking at you anyway.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows at Mark’s last line that’s almost too quiet to hear. He’s pretty sure that Mark kept stealing glances at the field a moment earlier, so if it weren’t because of Donghyuck and Yukhei playing soccer with their upperclassmen, who was he staring at?

“I’m sorry,” Donghyuck says anyway, and he means it even when his tone sounds too playful. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you can just come over, okay?”

“I don’t do soccer,” Mark bitterly responds as he picks up his book back and places it on his lap. “Now can you leave me alone, please? I want to read in silence.”

Donghyuck scrunches up his nose at his attitude but decides to be the better man. “Alright,” he says, giving him the space he needs. “My name’s Lee Donghyuck, by the way. Nice to meet you, Grumpy Pants!” he exclaims with a cheeky grin before he runs back to the field. Mark Lee is unapproachable, but that only makes him more interesting to Lee Donghyuck.

***

It takes eleven minutes after the whistle has been blown for Donghyuck to score his third goal that day and she cheers loudly with her hands in the air before she realizes that she’s supposed to stare at her crush secretly. She clears her throat and tries to calm her racing heart as she sits back on the bleachers. Her eyes are still following the boy with the number 66 on the back of his jersey and her heart warms when she sees how his fluffy brown hair flutters under the wind.

That boy’s name is Lee Donghyuck. He’s one year younger than she is and he’s probably the brightest, and the funniest person she has ever met. He’s a bit weird, though, because every time he talks to her, he always speaks like he has known her for his whole life. And he does look familiar somehow, but she can’t remember why.

Last spring was the first time she met him. She was looking around the campus’ ground, getting to know the environment better before she enrolled in the university by the next semester. And then a ball hit her on the head, making her tumble to the ground.

“Oh, shit! Sorry! Are you okay?” A boy ran to her with a familiar smile and beautiful sun-kissed skin that glistened slightly with sweat. He helped her stand on her own feet and kept apologizing for two times more until he saw her face and began to shout her name over and over again, voice getting louder each time.

“Holy shit, it’s really you! I can’t believe this!” Without permission, he suddenly leaned in and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her off her feet as he laughed wholeheartedly. “Jesus Christ, Noona, it’s been years!” He was crushing her with his hug and she felt strange, afraid even. “I can’t believe I’m seeing you again! I’ve been looking for you every—”

Out of fear and discomfort, she hastily pushed him away. “D-don’t touch me!” she said, backing away and a wounded look fell upon his face.

“N-noona, it’s me,” he said, attempting to calm her down by reaching out a hand. “It’s me, Donghyuck. We used to play together, remember? At the beach? In Jeju?”

Frowning was her response and nothing more, not remembering his identity at all and that made her sad because that boy seemed like he was really hoping for her to remember him. “I’m—I’m sorry but I don’t know you,” she said and the boy seemed heartbroken for a few seconds before he shook his head and smiled brightly once more.

“Oh wow, then this must’ve been super awkward.” He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head before he offered her his hand. She could tell he was shaken up by it but he didn’t make it seem obvious. “I’m Lee Donghyuck. I’m sorry for being so weird. You just remind me so much of my old friend. But I got your name right, didn’t I?”

She nodded her head once, shaking his hand. “How do you know my name?”

“Let’s just say I’m a bit psychic,” Donghyuck replied, grinning boyishly and something stirred in her heart. She felt like she knew him but at the same time, she didn’t. It was weird but Donghyuck never worried about such a matter. He kept on talking to her, sporting his cheery grins and beautiful eye-smile as he did and his presence somehow filled the pang that had been so hollow in her heart.

“Yo, Sleepyhead!” Wong Yukhei calls as he scurries over to her side. He’s breathing hard, beads of sweat forming and rolling down his temple. The man is 183cm tall with silky dark brown hair and a voice deeper than any man she’s ever known. “What’cha doin’, girl? Been here long?”

“Hey, Yukhei,” she greets with a smile, offering him her canned orange juice and Yukhei drinks it in one gulp without hesitation. “Just hanging out. Did you guys win?” she asks, trying to pretend like she wasn’t paying attention to the game (which is somewhat true because she only paid attention to Donghyuck).

“Oh, come on, we all know you were watching the game,” Yukhei says as he flops down next to her seat. “Or were you watching me?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Wong Yukhei is always blatant with his flirting but nobody ever takes him seriously. It’s common knowledge that Yukhei never wants to have a relationship with anyone other than his Soulmate. People tend to date anyone they want while they wait for their Soulmates to appear but Yukhei is a different case. Yukhei only wants the girl who owns the same scar as he has on his wrist.

“Hey, just a friendly advice here,” Yukhei says, “I know you really really really like Hyuck but fucking hell, woman, do you really need to stare at him all day long with that dopey, lovesick look on your face?”

“Hey!” She hisses, slapping his back. “Shut up, okay? And I wasn’t staring at him. I was watching the game.”

“Sureeee,” Yukhei slurs the last syllable. “Then what’s the score? No peeking at the scoreboard.”

She can’t answer. Seeing how Yukhei keeps on mocking her, she eventually sighs and buries her face in her hands. “Is it that obvious?”

“So obvious. Too obvious, even.”

“Do you think he knows?”

“Honey, I think even my grandma knows you have a crush on him.”

“Oh my God,” she sobs to her hands and when she lifts her face, her cheeks are in flame. “Well, it doesn’t matter. I can’t date him anyway, Not until I’m sure that he’s my Soulmate.”

Yukhei furrows his brows. “I didn’t know you were like me.”

“I just think it’s a safer option, you know?” She utters, huffing to the air. “Why would you waste your time dating someone who’s not your Soulmate when you know it’s not gonna work out in the end? Better choose the one so you won’t hurt anyone.”

Yukhei nods proudly and pats her head. “I feel you, Sister. I feel you.”

“Shut up, you’re gross,” she says, punching Yukhei playfully by his shoulder but the said man groans loudly and dramatically acts like she just struck his arm with a javelin. Yukhei stands up and barks, “Sure, when it’s Wong Yukhei, you go around and punch him like a sag of potatoes but when it’s Lee Donghyuck, you worship him like a freaking Greek God! Real fair, Sweetheart, real fair!” Then he throws a flying kiss toward her direction before she has the chance to actually kill Wong Yukhei. She just hopes that Donghyuck didn’t hear him.

She sits back on the bleachers, her heart thumping loudly but Donghyuck never stares back. He’s always like that when he’s too focused on his game. It’s part of his charm, really.

It’s only Mark Lee who does, staring at her from across the field. He’s a fellow freshman she once met at the library, helping her with finding her books. She always thinks he looks kind of familiar as well but she doesn’t know why. Perhaps some kind of a déjà vu?

She didn’t see him sitting there before (her eyes were too focused on Donghyuck, like always) and Mark never really goes out of his class at break times anyway. He used to always spend his days in the library, working there and reading suspense or science-fiction novels even when he’s read them a thousand times already. This is the first time she’s ever seen him out on the field. Perhaps he’s watching the game too?

She smiles and waves her hand at him. “Hey, library guy!” she mouths, grinning but Mark never mirrors her smile in the same way. He always seems sad, she notices, like he’s trying to achieve something but something forbids him from doing so. She wonders what he craves so badly that he has to force himself away from enjoying his life like he’s supposed to.

***

It’s twelve past twelve on a Sunday afternoon when Zhong Chenle passes a watermelon to Mark’s lap and speaks, “Bro, I know it’s not my business but your ex-girlfriend has a huge crush on that kid Lee Donghyuck.”

With a knife in his hand, ready to slice the watermelon into small pieces, Mark freezes and looks at Chenle with heavy pressure in his eyes.

“Whoa, dude!” Chenle immediately backs away, gulping when he realizes he just made Mark upset when the man is holding a knife in his hand. “Be careful with that shit, okay? You look like you’re about to kill someone!”

“Not someone, just you,” Mark replies, looking away and begins to slice the fruit.

Chenle takes his seat back with more caution in his steps, just in case. “Look, Mark, I don’t want to make you mad.”

“A bit too late for that,” Mark replies, jabbing the knife into the fruit, and Chenle almost shrieks, fidgeting on his seat. The Chinese boy winces a little as he prepares to receive a strike from his friend but it never came. Instead, his friend throws him a small smile and Chenle knows Mark’s been kidding around. Chenle can never understand his sense of humor.

“You have a terrible sense of humor, has anyone ever told you that?” He calms his heart down. “You’re still not over her, huh?” Chenle asks, receiving a freshly cut watermelon from the slightly shorter guy. Mark doesn’t answer him and instead, he grabs his own piece of watermelon and strolls over to lounge on the couch. The sun is blazing outside, sitting on its throne, and burns everything considering it’s the middle of summer and even with this thin layer of clothes he’s wearing, Mark just can’t stop sweating.

“Dude?” Chenle calls, following him to the couch, and steals a glance at him. Mark is just there, sitting and staring at the fruit without doing anything much other than breathing. “Hello? Earth to Mark, you alright there, buddy?”

Mark slowly moves his gaze back at him and for the first time in forever, he pulls on a gentle, but heartbreaking smile. “I would’ve gotten over her if I could but it’s hard.”

Chenle hums quietly. “You guys loved each other that much, huh?”

“Loved?” Mark chuckles, proffering his piece of watermelon to his friend’s hand in case Chenle wants more. He does. “It wasn’t just love. She was my everything.” The Chinese boy snorts at that but he can actually sense the truth behind Mark’s words, which is why Chenle chooses to stay mute. “I was about to propose to her, you know?” Mark confesses, crestfallen. “We were nothing but stupid brats going on about love and crappy things like that and I had this stupid ring with me that I wanted to give her. I was about to make a promise to be with her forever. I didn’t care whether she was my Soulmate or not. I didn’t care if we were too young to be engaged. I just loved her so much—I still do but…”

But she forgot about you, Chenle wants to say but he decides to keep himself in silence. While Mark was hurting physically during that period after the accident, she was losing her mind. She had recurring nightmares and she lost almost every part of her memories. She lost her childhood, she lost her friends, and most of all, she lost him. She couldn’t see Mark. He never existed in her world. Her loss of memories had helped her to recover quicker than him and her parents also made her go to many therapy sessions in her last few months at the hospital. She’s now healthy and happy and Mark is grateful for that but, of course, a huge part of him died with her that night before the first snow fell upon their smiles.

Chenle forms a question after a while. “Why don’t you try and approach her again, then? You know, start over. Maybe she could fall in love with you again.”

Mark absentmindedly touches the skin around his nape. “It’s better this way,” he says, smiling weakly to the ground. “She’s happier without me in her life.”

“But you’re hurting,” Chenle counters. “And I’m not sure you’re gonna get better tomorrow if you keep being like this.”

“You’re right, I’m never gonna get better.” Mark laughs softly. “I’m gonna remember this forever and I’m gonna live through this every day. When I wake up in the morning, the first thing I remember is how I agreed to go with her to town that night. If I hadn’t gone to her grandmother’s place, if I hadn’t gone with her outside—”

Chenle shakes his head. “You didn’t know what would happen—”

“It doesn’t matter!” Mark shouts breathlessly, his hand going over his heart. “It happened and I lost her. That’s it, Chenle. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Chenle looks conflicted and hesitant for a few seconds before he reaches out and pats Mark on the shoulder. “Everything will get better,” he says, trying to spread joy to his friend. “You’ll forget her when you meet your Soulmate. Try to live your life like me, buddy. No good will come from worrying over things that have been done.”

Mark returns his smile but his eyes stay cold.

His dreams always consist of her smile and how her eyes once turned crescents when she whispered, “I love you too, Mark Lee.” His dreams always reel in the way she held him close that night, how she wanted to make him feel happy, how she wanted to be with him, how much she missed and loved him.

It never happens in real life anymore. Mark Lee never existed in her life that way. And that is why Mark stops waking up with a smile on his face.

“Chenle,” Mark starts, “Are you friends with that guy?”

“Who, Donghyuck? Yeah, he’s cool. Gets pretty whiny and annoying most of the times, but—”

“There’s something I want you to tell him.”

“O… kay…” Chenle is startled by the sudden gravitas in his tone. “What is it?”

“She believes in Soulmates,” Mark says, smiling to himself and somehow Chenle can see the disappointment and frustration in his eyes. “She has a scar on the back of her neck. So if he doesn’t have the same scar, it’s better for him to just stay away since he’ll end up hurting them both in the future.”

Chenle analyzes his friend’s expression but he’s still left clueless. “And you’re okay if he turns out to be the one for her?”

Mark glances at him, smiling while his eyes show nothing but a pang of guilt and pain. “At this point, Chenle,” he murmurs, “I actually wish for it to happen.”

***

“So she believes in Soulmates too, huh?” Donghyuck asks, his shoulders are slumped forward in disappointment. It’s Friday the 13th and while everyone is feeling spooked out over the infamous urban legend, Donghyuck is feeling upset over an entirely different reason. “Damn it!”

Yukhei snorts. “Dude, everyone believes in Soulmates; it’s only you who don’t. It’s basically, like, written in the law or something.” When Donghyuck shoots him a look, Yukhei just huffs. “All I’m saying is it’s not just a myth, dude. This shit happens.”

Donghyuck knows that but he’s really interested in her—well, he’s always been interested in her, since back then when they were young even. Donghyuck didn’t think he’d be able to meet her again but well, luck is apparently on his side. Not that much, though, because she forgot about what they used to have. Donghyuck learned along the way that she’d gotten into an accident in high school and that was how she lost her memories. He understands the situation and he’s willing to restart everything again because even after all this time, Donghyuck still likes her. And for these past few months, Donghyuck has become so close to her once again and it’s like they’re back to that time where they used to play together on the beach with sands under their feet. She still smiles and gazes at him in the way she did back then and Donghyuck thinks her beauty lasts for eternity.

She even said one time, as he was trying to catch his breath after his soccer practice, that he reminded her of the sun, the way he shone so brightly when he played on the field, how his every movement and smile drew attention from the crowd.

“You should be called Haechan,” she said sheepishly, bumping her shoulder against his in a playful manner. “I think it fits you more. What do you think?”

His heart was racing for an entirely different reason. He couldn’t believe that even when she had lost her memories, she still repeated the same thing in the exact same way. So Donghyuck swallowed hard, trying his best to appear nonchalant, and said, “I think that’s the stupidest pet name someone has ever given to me, but it’s okay. You can call me that.”

It would be great if they could be something more. But well, if she believes in Soulmate and if Donghyuck turns out to not be the one she’s waiting for then they probably shouldn’t start anything to begin with.

“This whole Soulmate thing sucks balls!” Donghyuck whines, kicking a pebble stone to the side of the street as he walks next to his tall friend on the sidewalk. “I really want to try and be with her, you know? I didn’t try anything back then because we were too young to understand our feelings but now we’re older and I really, really like her but God-fucking-dammit, Yukhei, what if I’m not her Soulmate? What if she won’t accept me?”

Yukhei pats his friend on the back. “Well, you still have your chance, Hyuck. Maybe someday, she’ll fall and bruise her knees or something and you’ll get the same scar—her scar. Who knows, right? Maybe you are her Soulmate.”

Donghyuck doesn’t put a lot of wish on that. He’s never much of a believer anyway. “She doesn’t seem to have scars now, though,” he says, “So how can we tell who her Soulmate is?”

“But you don’t have scars too, do you?”

“Actually, I—”

“Donghyuck-Hyung!” A skinny boy with fluffy blond hair, calls from somewhere behind him. Donghyuck turns around and grins when he sees the boy approaching him. “Hey, asswipe! What’s up?”

“I told you not to call me that.” But Chenle reciprocated by giving him his personal high five. After a quick chatter, Chenle drops his smile and displays a solemn look on his face. “Hyung, there’s something I need to tell you.”

***

It’s on the next day, June 14th, when Donghyuck literally steals Yukhei’s key (he thinks Yukhei wouldn’t mind anyway) and drives his motorcycle for less than a mile, heading south. Donghyuck doesn’t waste any more time. Since he heard what Chenle told him yesterday, Donghyuck has been so anxious. He needs to see her now and he needs to see her fast.

That afternoon isn’t actually chilly, but Donghyuck brings his black leather jacket with him—just for luck. He wears a thin white shirt underneath it and a black full covered helmet on his head. He’s brought another helmet with him, not caring about the possibility of her rejecting his proposal of an impromptu date. Donghyuck has always been that confident.

Getting the address of her house isn’t actually easy, but it’s not the hardest question in the world either. When he stops in front of her house, his wristwatch says it’s 02.14 p.m. He still has enough time to go watch a movie with her and have dinner together—if she agrees to go on a date with him in the first place.

Jumping out from his—or rather, Yukhei’s—motorcycle, Donghyuck takes off his helmet and ruffles his short hair, pushing back his fringe with his lean fingers. He doesn’t say it often but he thinks he looks a bit hotter when his forehead shows and if he’s going to charm this girl off her feet, he needs all the luck he can get. And that is why he’s putting his RayBan sunglasses on too.

He picks up his phone and dials her numbers. She answers on the second ring and it’s cute that her “Hello?” sounds more like a panic shout rather than a friendly greeting. “Hey, baby,” Donghyuck jokes with a grin, but it makes her gasp. He hears her stutter out his name in return. “Can you go out to your balcony for me?”

“W-why?” she asks, a bit breathlessly for some reason. Donghyuck secretly hopes his voice is the reason behind it. He likes to think he has that effect on her, because sometimes, when she wears her floral blue shirt combined with her white skirt, she has that same effect on him as well. That feeling of needing to breathe when you’re already breathing. It’s weird but he likes it.

“Just do it, please?” he begs, even displaying his puppy eyes though he knows she won’t be able to see them.

“Umm... O-okay then…”

A moment later, she appears on her veranda, wearing a short, casual navy blue summer dress with a white collar that looks like a sailor’s. Her hair is untied, flowing over her shoulders and Donghyuck can already tell that she’s about to tuck some strands of her hair behind her ears. He always loves it when she does that. He’ll love it even more if one day she gives him the chance to do it for her.

“Umm, I’m already out,” she nervously mumbles out, pushing her locks to the back of her ear. Her phone is strapped to her ear and she examines her surrounding until her eyes land on the man who’s leaning on a (stolen) bike.

“Hey,” Donghyuck smiles that one smile he knows could drive women crazy. He adds this thing with his eyebrows just in case she’s not affected by his smirk. “So, I woke up this morning and I thought of you. Wanna go out on a date with me?”

She gapes, her cellphone almost slides down from her hand. “I-I’m—” Even Donghyuck can see her blush from under there. “Donghyuck-ah, I—”

“How many times should I tell you?” Donghyuck sighs, playfully sending her a glare. “Just call me by that name you gave me.”

“D-didn’t you say it was stupid?”

“It’s stupid because it makes me feel special.” And he doesn’t lie, not in the slightest. “You make me feel special.”

Her face burns even more. “Look, I don’t think I can go—” She takes a look behind her, worriedly glancing to her room. “I’m supposed to stay in my room and—”

“Have you ever broken any rules before?” Donghyuck asks and if she hadn’t lost her memories, she’d say yes and tell him that that’s the exact reason why she got into that accident. But this new version of her only gnawed at her lip worriedly. “Come on, Noona. You don’t need to tell your parents.” He’s extremely persuasive, especially with that signature eyebrow-raise of his with his eyes twinkling mischievously after he took off his sunglasses. “Just come with me. I’ll take you back home before they even know you’re gone.”

It’s tempting. Donghyuck’s offers are always tempting and he looks really good in that leather jacket while sporting his messy pushed-back hair. She once thought Donghyuck looked the best wearing his soccer jersey on the field because he appeared so young and boyish that way. But this. This exact style. He reeks of masculinity and pure sex—

“Are you coming?” Donghyuck snaps her away from her reverie. She continues nibbling on her lip in anxiety, looking back again before she glances at the boy once more. “Okay, yes,” she finally says and Donghyuck tries not to jump and stab the air in victory. “I can’t go down from the stairs, though. My father’s in the living room.”

“Well then, jump,” he simply says, walking closer until he stands just below her balcony and tries to be as quiet as possible as he strolls through the bushes. “Come on, Noona. Jump. I’ll catch you.”

“T-there’s no way I can do that!” Her cheeks spark bright red. “I’m wearing a dress!”

“Well then, I’ll close my eyes.” He spreads his arms wide to catch her and simply closes his eyes like he said. “See?”

“How are you planning to catch me when you can’t even see me?!” She protests and Donghyuck wants to laugh because her shrieking voice is so pleasantly cute.

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, opening his eyes again just to gaze straight into her eyes. “I won’t let you fall. I promise. Don’t you trust me?”

Something in the tone he uses lights a spark in her chest. “O-of course.”

“Then trust me.” Donghyuck smiles again and shuts his eyes closed. “Now jump.”

She still hesitates, thinking this over and over again with her hand pressed nervously against her chest. Finally, she decides to just get this over with. “I’m—I’m a bit heavy, though.”

“You’re not heavy, you’re pretty,” Donghyuck smoothly says and on any other occasion, she would have laughed because that’s probably the worst line to say at the moment. “Now come on. Jump.”

“But Haechannie—”

“Jump!”

And she does. With a rush of adrenaline pumping through her veins, she jumps in her sailor dress with only her phone being held in her hand. She’s about to yelp but the fall is too fast that it ends before she can scream. True enough, Donghyuck manages to catch her with his arms and she falls with a small ‘oof’ to his chest.

“Hello Kitty panties?” Donghyuck teases, his spine being pressed against the ground and although it does hurt a little, everything is worth it since she is now lying on top of him. “Really, darling?”

She gapes, blushing madly, and lands a small slap on his chest to cover her embarrassment. “You said you wouldn’t look!” She makes too much rustling noises over the fuss, while Donghyuck tries to contain his laughter. He would’ve let her hit him again if he didn’t hear someone’s footsteps closing on them.

Her father is now walking through the front door.

Donghyuck does the most brilliant thing to do at the moment—according to him anyway—which is to roll to his side and hide both of their bodies behind the bushes. She ends up lying on the ground with Donghyuck’s body covering her. He holds her head close to his chest so she won’t knock herself on the ground. Her ear is pressed against his heart and she cannot focus when Donghyuck pulls her closer and warns her with a whisper, “Be quiet...”

Her father doesn’t take a detailed look around the place, probably wondering whether it was just the neighbor’s cat doing noisy things as always. He ends up leaving after picking up the newspaper that he forgets to retrieve in the morning.

When the sound of the front door being closed reaches their ears, they both let out a relieved sigh. “Holy shit, I thought I was about to die,” Donghyuck says, laughing when he sees her holding back her smile. “Your hair’s a mess.” He reaches out a hand and fixes her fringe and that’s when she realizes that she’s in such proximity to his face and she’s literally lying underneath him.

She immediately pulls away and stands up properly before she slightly bows with her face blazing hot. “I’m—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hold you like that—”

“Hey, relax,” Donghyuck says, cleaning the dirt off his ripped jeans as he stands up as well. “It was my fault. And I was enjoying every second of it anyway so...” He grins that familiar boyish smile of his and although she pouts and pushes him playfully by the shoulder, inside her thumping heart, she feels alive.

“I can’t believe you saw my panties,” she mutters, fixing her hair as her cheeks continue to burn. “So embarrassing.”

“I think it’s cute.”

Her face is about to explode. “You promised you’d close your eyes!”

“I didn’t.” Donghyuck wiggles his eyebrow once in a teasing manner. “I only promised you I’d catch you. And I did, right? I didn’t let you fall.”

She looks away, trying her best to calm her racing heart. “Y-yes. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Now, come on,” Donghyuck says, taking her hand without permission (not that she’d mind) and guides her to his—Yukhei’s—ride. “I’m thinking of relishing our childhood memories and—” he stops when he sees her frowning and he looks flustered because, “God, I’m so stupid. Of course you wouldn’t remember.” His voice is quiet before he gets a grip of himself and clears his throat. “What I want to say is, there are two choices you can choose: First, it’s a safe option where we go out to the movies, choose whatever it is that’s lame enough so you’ll get bored and start talking to me during the play—hey, stop laughing!” Donghyuck pokes her on the cheek when she giggles at his words. “And then we’ll get dinner afterward before I take you home. Or second, and this is the more daring one, we go to the nearest beach and see whatever the hell that’s going to happen there and just let God decides where we go next.” He gives her another spare of his helmet. “So what do you wanna do?”

She thinks about it for a few seconds, just to build the hype, before she says, “I’ll go with the second option.”

“Well, I am hurt,” Donghyuck mutters. “You just thought talking to me during the movie would be boring, didn’t you? You’ve underestimated my interpersonal skills, woman.”

“It’s not that,” she replies, grinning as she sits behind him and wraps her arms around his waist. “I’m just worried that you’re gonna order pizza for dinner and I don’t think that’s gonna be romantic.”

“Ah, so you want our situation to be romantic, do you?” Donghyuck teases, her plan backfires. “I knew you’ve always had the hots for me.”

Her jaw hangs low on her blushing face. “That’s not what I—” And her words end up with a scream when Donghyuck suddenly drives off. She winds her arms tighter around his waist and Donghyuck laughs because she’s adorable in the way he finds to be the cutest form possible.

To her, this is the first date she’s ever experienced. She has never been with anyone before him and she likes Donghyuck so much because he seems so carefree and fun, while on the other side, dangerous and unpredictable. He’s a bit four-dimensional and she wants to know what’s hidden more under those multilayer personalities of his. But what attracts her the most is how she feels familiar and safe in his presence. She feels like she can trust him as if she’s known him for her whole life.

Had the accident never happened, she would’ve noticed how different Donghyuck is if being compared with her past boyfriend, Mark Lee. While Donghyuck is impulsive and daring, Mark has always been the cautious one. Mark is the guy who pays attention to every little thing that happens to her—even when she doesn’t realize it herself. While Donghyuck, on the other hand, is that person who desires simplicity. The boy who says, “I want you” instead of “I need you”. And that’s entirely different than how Mark, the boy who offers commitment and loyalty, had promised her once.

But memory is just a memory. Donghyuck used to live in the shadows of her mind, but now he’s alive and there’s no way he’s going to let her go for the second time.

It’s time for Mark to stay in the darkness and just let go of what he used to have.

This time, the table has turned.

***

Mark Lee sighs for the fifteenth time that day because his mother keeps on pestering him to go back to his daily therapy session but he’s not having any of it. Not today. He’s already tired of having to go to the doctor every day only to hear the line, “There hasn’t been many changes but don’t worry, we’ll get you better soon, Mark,” or maybe in some better days like yesterday, he got a “Good news, Mark! We can start the surgery by the end of the week! That is, of course, if you’re willing to follow the procedures and healthy enough to undergo the surgery.”

Mark is scared to his bones but he doesn’t tell anyone that. Being consumed with fear isn’t something he wants to be proud of and he knows that it won’t do anything other than making people worry about him more. He’s had enough of that. So he just smiles and tries to get better for his mother.

Not today, though. Today, he needs to let go.

This is why tonight, he puts on his sweater and strolls out of his house without telling anyone. He rarely breaks any rules but today, he just wants to get out and breathe the outside air as much as he wants to. He takes a deep breath and with trembles in his fingers, he reaches out for his brother’s bicycle. The memory of the accident is still clear in his head but he’s already promised himself he’d move on. And this is him, moving on.

He rides the bicycle slowly, still remembering to take care of his condition. He keeps pedaling until he reaches her new address. They used to live next to each other, but after the accident that happened with Mark, her family thought that it’d be better if they stay as far as possible from each other. But here he is now, standing in front of her gate with an anxious heart and shaky fingers, just like how it was when he picked her up for their first date.

Mark weakly smiles to himself. “Just say your goodbye and leave, Mark. Just do that and move on.”

He presses the doorbell and waits.

A moment later, she comes out wearing a knitted sweater Mark once gave her for their second anniversary and that sight of her made him feel like the earth is sinking below him. Why is she wearing that? He screams in his mind, as his eyes grow wide. As far as Mark knew, her parents tried to keep every little bit of Mark away from her, to keep her safe just in case it’d bring something painful to her shattered memories. Her mother probably mistook it for her own sweater and that was why she didn’t throw it away.

“I’ll call you later, okay, Haechannie?” she says, giggling to her cellphone as she walks toward the fence that separates her from him. “I know. Of course, I’ll brush my teeth. I’m not you.” She laughs quietly, muttering ‘one sec’ to Mark as she tries to drag open the gate. “Okay, hey, I really need to go. Someone’s here.”

Mark tries to stop the wounded look from appearing on his face. Someone, Mark thinks, smiling bitterly. She doesn’t even know my name.

“I’ll call you—” Then she laughs again, her cheeks getting red and Mark secretly hopes that it’s because of the cold, and not over Donghyuck’s words from the other side of the line. “Yes, okay, good night. I’ll see you later, Haechannie. Bye.” Then she shuts her phone and looks at Mark apologetically. “Oh God, I’m so sorry. My boyfriend just kept on babbling,” she explains, chuckling in embarrassment. “Hi, is there anything I can help you with?”

Her laughter still sounds as airy and adorable in his ears and Mark tries to erase the sickening feeling in his gut after knowing that he’s no longer the reason behind her laughter.

“Hi, uhh…” Mark rubs his nape, clearing his throat. “You probably don’t remember me, but umm—we’ve met at the library? I helped you with your books.”

She frowns for a few seconds before her eyes light up. “Ah!” She exclaims, smiling widely at him. “You’re the library guy! Hi, yes, of course, I remember you.”

Library guy. He can’t take it anymore. “It’s Mark,” he murmurs.

She blinks. “What?”

“My name,” he says, louder this time. His fingers are curling into fists on the sides of his jeans. “My name is Mark Lee.”

“Oh,” she says, throwing another heartwarming smile as she offers him her hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mark Lee.” The way she says his name still feels natural to his ears, which only makes him suffer harder. She tells him her name, wanting to give him a firm handshake.

“I already know your name,” Mark says, and somehow his tone seems cold. She drops her hand with a surprised look on her face. Mark wonders whether she sees the dejected look he displays on his face because her smile vanishes completely and she seems utterly heartbroken. To her, Mark looks exactly like Donghyuck used to stare at her sometimes—that look when someone wishes to be remembered. She doesn’t know what happened in the past but she knows she’s hurting him somehow.

“I’m sorry,” she says, almost in a whisper. “I have… I have a bad memory so… If we’ve met before and I can’t remember you, I’m… I’m really sorry.”

Mark wants to slap himself on the face for being so selfish. He just hurt her again. She doesn’t even know him and he just hurt her again. “No, it’s not that,” Mark hurriedly explains with a reassuring smile. “I know you because I once saw you writing down your name when you borrowed the book. I work at the library, remember?”

She blinks twice before she lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh... Right…” she utters, smiling to herself. “Well, I… Thanks for helping me out back then.”

She looks just as beautiful as she used to when she snuggled up against him on the couch. Mark brings his hands into the pocket of his jeans so he won’t accidentally stroke her cheek or lace their fingers together. “No problem.”

“So, what’s up?” she chirps and Mark realizes he needs to find a better excuse than this is probably the last time I can see you and that’s why I want to say goodbye properly.

“It’s umm…” It’s painful for him having to lie straight to her face like this. He never once lied in front of her when they were together but now that they’re living separate lives with no connections to each other, it feels like that’s what he’s been doing all the time. Just lying, forcing himself to smile, distancing himself from everyone, and pushing himself to say her name effortlessly even when the pain in his chest is overwhelming. “Nothing important, really,” Mark says, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “I just came here to remind you that you need to return the book by tomorrow.”

“What? Oh!” She gasps, placing a hand over her mouth. “You’re right! Oh God, I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me.”

Mark only smiles back and his eyes are soft and gentle. “No problem. It’s my job anyway.”

She laughs a bit. “Such a hardworking young man. Next time you could just call me, you know? You don’t have to come over to my house. It’s freezing.” The way she talks is always fascinating to see and hear. Her smile never leaves her face and her hands are constantly moving animatedly every time she opens her mouth. Mark can actually feel his heart racing at the sight of her. “Oh, look at that.” She announces, glancing at Mark’s hands that are starting to go red from the cold. “You’re not wearing any gloves. Wait for a sec, will you? I’ll get you some!” And she hurries back into her house before he can stop her.

When she comes out a moment later, she carries a pair of her gloves (Mark remembers well the salmon pink color and the white stripes at the end of it) and her cheeks glow in a darker shade of red when she says, “These are mine but they’re a couple of sizes bigger on me so I hope they’ll fit.” She tucks his hands inside the gloves exactly like that time before Mark pushed her against the fence and poured his feelings against her lips. When she’s finished, she also asks, “There. Better?”

Mark can’t stop himself from feeling hurt. It’s like his heart is being ripped apart and he can’t do anything to prevent it. Before he knows it, his eyes grow hot and his vision starts to blur. He doesn’t let his tears fall though. He quickly covers it with a grateful smile. “Thank you,” he says and she smiles back, squeezing Mark’s hand in a friendly way before she lets go.

“You’re welcome,” she cheerfully says. “By the way, Happy Christmas Eve.”

Mark smiles while his heart is breaking. If he closes his eyes right now, will the earth swallow him whole?

“So, Mark Lee,” she begins, leaning her back to the fence. “Is there anything else you want to remind me of? Did I forget to pay for the book or something?”

There’s a lot of things he wants to remind her about. The warmth of his hand, the sound of his voice when he confessed to her, the taste of their first kiss, everything. But every little joyful memory he has of her will only inflict pain on her behalf so he holds himself back. Mark laughs, shaking his head. “No, you’re okay,” he says, staring at her with a gentle smile constantly displayed on his lips.

After a while, she playfully raises an eyebrow in question. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

Mark doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, but at that moment, he reaches out his hand and pushes her bangs out of her eyes, just like how he used to do back then. She freezes on her feet, her eyes growing wide, her breathing stalls.

“I’m—” Mark splutters. “I’m sorry, I just—” He panics, his hand going over his chest, feeling his heart thumping fast and it begins to hurt—more than anything he can ever bear. “I’m so sorry.” And he turns around, carrying his bicycle with him before he pedals away through the night. His heart is screaming with more pain for the distance he puts between them.

She stands there on the ground with parted lips. Her eyes are fixed on Mark’s back as he drives away and then suddenly, a tear slips out from the corner of her eye.

“Oh…” She falls to her knees, hugging herself with her arms as she cries and cries and cries harder over something she doesn’t even know what. She just feels so hurt, as if something is tearing every bit of her heart apart. She covers her mouth as she sobs louder. Breathing becomes hard, just as hard as she tries to explain why is she feeling like this. Why does she feel like someone is leaving her? Someone very important, just like a piece of her soul. What is happening?

“Honey!” Her mother comes out with shock written on her face and cradles her into her arms. “Darling, what happened?”

But she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know what to say. She just feels like dying. She just feels like she can’t breathe.

It’s as if a promise had just been broken and there’s nothing left of it to reminisce.

Mark stops and jumps off his bike the second he makes a turn a few meters away from her house. His hand is curling against the front of his shirt while the other one is holding him up from not lying flatly on the ground. He’s on his knees and he coughs to the cold night, gasping as if he was on the edge of losing his life. Her name is on the tip of his tongue and everything feels like knives, piercing through his skin.

He was so close. For a moment there, Mark saw her looking at him like she remembered him. She’s not supposed to remember him.

It hurts and Mark can’t fight his tears back anymore. He cries.

***

Donghyuck is staring at the latest episode of his favorite drama on channel 16 with drowsy, half-lidded eyes as he places his head on top of his girlfriend’s lap. They were in Donghyuck’s dorm room, specifically on his single-sized bed and she’s there, stroking his hair softly because Yukhei is out playing basketball with the new Chinese student and that means they can have quality time together.

Dating Donghyuck has been easy and she is enjoying every second of it. Donghyuck, that peculiar human being, likes to impersonate people as his daily jokes and it has become quite of a habit. From his usual Michael Jackson impersonation to something way more extreme such as creating new personas for himself.

It started a week ago when Donghyuck picked her up to campus wearing ripped, washed-out jeans, black boots, and a wifebeater underneath his black leather jacket. The weirdest thing was, he had a cigarette sticking on the side of his mouth but it wasn’t lit—Donghyuck never smoked anything in his entire life.

“’ Sup,” he said, lowering his voice to make it sound deeper after he spat to the ground in a manly way (based on his own opinion, of course).

“What on earth is happening to you?” She asked, staring at him bewilderedly from head-to-toe.

Donghyuck pretended to blow some smokes from his cigarette. “The hell are you talkin’ ‘bout, girl? I’m a gangster. This is what gangsters do. Now hop on my bike, you little shit.”

She just stared flatly at him. “I’m not gonna go anywhere with you talking to me like that.”

“But I’m a gangsta! Gangsters swear, sucker.”

“And you think swearing is attractive?”

Donghyuck snickered, breaking out of his character. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I’m just trying on something new,” he explained, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles once. “You look very pretty today. Now, will you please go with me? We’re going to be late.”

“And you look ridiculous.”

“I know,” he chuckled and then he began to get into character again. “But I’m serious. Get on my fucking bike, bitch.”

She sighed but rode away with him anyway.

On the next day, he dressed up in a pair of baggy pants, a shirt with the words “Nerds for life” written upon it, eyeglasses that were too big for his little face, and sneakers that were way too white and way too clean.

“Good afternoon, my fellow specimen!” He saluted, holding a Star Wars graphic novel in his hands as he sat beside his girlfriend on the bleachers. He was supposed to get ready for another soccer game that was going to start in another half an hour, but here he was, dressing like a dork and bugging her like always.

“Let me guess,” she sighed, rubbing her temple. “You’re a nerd.”

“A nerd, I am not,” he said, imitating Yoda from the Star Wars franchise. “But a beauty, yes you are.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous, I am not.”

“Will you stop it already?”

“Stop, I can not.”

“Shut up!” She was beginning to laugh when Donghyuck kept talking like that as he tried to kiss her. “No! Don’t kiss me! You’re gross!”

“I am Donghyuck Skywalker and you are my mate, Princess Leia!” He announced, suddenly standing on one of the seats and opened his arms widely above his head. “We shall roam the entire universe! Just us two, you and me, with your beauty shining brighter than the stars!” Then he jumped back down, placed his hands on his hips, and smirked as he spoke, “Now open up your hangar ‘cause my starfighter needs refueling—”

“HYUCK, OH MY GOD, JUST SHUT UP!”

That happened almost every day for at least an hour-long, but him dressing up like an idiot was enough to attract the entire campus and to make his girlfriend dying from either laughing too hard or drowning in secondhand embarrassment—the latter tends to happen more often. From being Hyuckcutio—the desperate lover from the medieval age (he wore a cape and had a rose between his teeth), Donghyucko Mucho—the Spanish guy who fell hard for his Rosalinda (he had a fake mustache on his face), to Donghyuck Dawson—the American dude whose heart still sailed for his Rose DeWitt Bukater even when the ship fucking sank.

She found him to be amusing and it was really entertaining watching him work hard to impress her. But if she had to choose, the moment she loved the most would be when Donghyuck dressed up in a plain white tee, washed-out jeans, and a smile that was bright enough to make other people look at him in a daze. His brown hair wasn’t styled in any way, and it looked so fluffy with bangs falling over his eyes.

He sat on the bleachers next to her and playfully bumped his shoulder against hers. “Hey, baby.”

His girlfriend smiled back, cheeks glowing in pink. “Who are you trying to be now?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “Myself.”

“Hmm…” She hummed before she kissed his cheek. “I think…” I like this one the most. “You look ridiculous.”

Donghyuck laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he ruffled her hair. “I know.”

“Something weird happened to me yesterday,” she confesses, playing idly with Donghyuck’s dark strands as she hangs around on his bed. Donghyuck’s head on her lap is a comforting weight she tends to miss when she’s alone in her room. “There’s this guy who came to my house late in the evening and he looked familiar but I can’t place who he was in my mind.”

Donghyuck turns around and looks up at her. “Maybe he’s an old friend?”

“Maybe,” she sighs. “He kept on staring at me and when I asked him why, he kind of brushed my hair and I just cried.”

Donghyuck raises his right eyebrow. “You cried?”

She nods, looking worried and dispirited so Donghyuck lifts his head off her lap and pats her head. “Hey, hey, hey,” he says, giving her a playful smile. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

“I don’t know what happened, it’s just—” She exhales heavily, lacing Donghyuck’s fingers with hers. “I suddenly felt so sad and there’s this pain aching in my chest. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Hey,” Donghyuck kisses her knuckles to soothe her down. “You’re okay. Nothing’s wrong with you. That guy was probably some sort of a voodoo believer or something and he tried to hypnotize you. I’m just glad you’re not hurt.”

She smiles, giving her boyfriend a flick on the nose. “Stupid. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Sure, it does!” Donghyuck swiftly pulls her by the leg and she falls to the bed with a giggle on her lips. Donghyuck climbs up her body, kissing her cheek before he grins at her.

“What?” she asks, her eyes have that teasing twinkle in them. “You look like you’re about to kiss me.”

“No, I don’t.” Donghyuck snorts. “What, just because I’m lying on top of my girlfriend with my face being this close, you think I want to kiss you? Such confidence you have.”

She retaliates with a playful shove against his shoulders and Donghyuck laughs before he pins both of her hands to the bed. He leans close and kisses her lips, gentle like usual but also has that fiery spark behind it.

She tenderly smiles and lets him kiss her one more time before he sighs and trails his fingertips along the side of her face. “What now?” she asks, grinning teasingly.

Donghyuck’s playful smirk has vanished away from his face. “You know I love you, right?” he asks, his face serious as he traces her bottom lip with his thumb. This is actually the first time she hears him say those three words and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t surprised.

She parts her lips to speak. “Why are you suddenly—”

“I just thought you should know,” Donghyuck says, his eyes are deep with sincerity and adoration. “I’ve actually been in love with you for a while. I guess I’ve even loved you from back when we were kids.” He chuckles quietly to himself when he sees her frowning. “You don’t remember anything, do you?” He twirls a strand of her hair around his finger. “Back then when I hit you with my ball and you just stared at me with that cute look on your face? You don’t remember that?”

“So that spring wasn’t the first time you hit my head with a ball?” she gives him a look and Donghyuck laughs before he kisses the corner of her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I guess I have the knack in running to damsels in distress and hitting them on the head with my ball.”

“Yeah, with you being the cause of their distress.”

Donghyuck pinches her cheek until she bursts out laughing. He rolls to his back and brings her forward to lie on top of him. She balances herself by putting her hands on his chest and Donghyuck tucks her hair behind her ear. “Do you love me?” he asks, quietly and she can see the insecurities in his eyes. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t but—”

“I do,” she hastily answers before he starts rambling nonsense. “Donghyuck you’re my Soulmate. Of course, I love you.” She bends her head down to kiss him deeply, tugging his lower lip with her teeth. “I do. I love you.”

Donghyuck groans lowly before he flips her back to her previous position, him hovering above her. He parts her lips with his and begins tasting every corner of her mouth, making her moan delicately against his warm lips. She cards her fingers through his hair before she rests her hand on his nape, touching the scar that has the exact same shape as hers.

A mark that indicates they’re both connected as Soulmates.

***

The clock indicates that it’s 05:17 p.m when his mother hugs him close to her chest. “You’ll be alright, Mark,” she whispers in his ear, her voice breaking. “I will just be right here and we’ll meet again in a few hours, okay?”

Mark Lee smiles brokenly to his family as he leans back on his wheelchair. His father pats him on his shoulder, “I’ll see you later, Son.”

His older brother gives him a familiar punch to his shoulder, teasing him although his concerned eyes betray him. “You’ll be okay, buddy. Think about it, we can play soccer again after this and I don’t have to hold back for your weak ass.” And Mark only chuckles softly before the doctor drags him away to the surgery room.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad,” Mark says, waving his hand and he can hear his own voice ready to shatter into pieces in the next seconds. “Bye, Hyung.”

And he dedicates his final farewell with a thought of her name.

“Everything will be fine, Mark,” the doctor says, eyes sparked with reassurance though his words mean nothing to Mark’s ears. The patient lies on his bed, taking a deep breath before the nurse injects a needle into his skin. “We’ll get you a new heart so you can ride your bike all day long again like you used to, okay?”

“Okay, Doc,” Mark simply responds, mirroring his smile that soon drops to the ground the second the older man glances away.

“Can you count to ten for me?”

The boy nods, beginning to count as the liquid runs through his veins, making him feel numb and sleepy.

“One.”

He remembers that one morning when he first realized he was in love. It was when she appeared in front of his room, breathless with a frantic look on her eyes, and screamed at him for not telling her that he was having a fever. She skipped school that day, no matter how many times her mother tried to drag her back there, saying that she wanted to stay at home and take care of her best friend.

“Two.”

Mark remembers the second month after they started dating. Of melted ice cream cones and chocolates they shared after school was over. And those secret kisses they stole from each other when their parents weren’t looking. Mark remembers how she used to compare him with summer, and when Mark pouted because he thought she was talking about how his pale skin easily got burned under the sunlight, she only laughed, kissed his cheek, and said, “You’ll always be my summer, Mark.”

“Three.”

He remembers how they used to speak those three words every night and every morning of every day. He remembers how they used to be so shy and he also remembers the day those three words became a promise. A promise, in Mark’s case, that lasts forever. But one that she’d forget in the near future.

“Four.”

Mark had only sung to her with his nervous fingers playing his acoustic guitar four times, but the adoration and the love she had in her eyes lasted for four years.

“Five…”

“There are five reasons why you should fall in love and stay in love with me, Mark Lee,” she once said with a smug smile on her face. “First, I’m a natural beauty.” Mark yawned and she threw her pillow at him. “Second, I’m a loving and caring person.” Mark rolled his eyes and he got a glare in return. “Third, I’m smart—like hella smart.” Mark began to bury his face in his pillow and she flicked him on the ear. “Fourth, I’m sexy.” Mark stared at her with boredom in his eyes as he clapped his hands nonchalantly. “What, it’s true! You said so once, don’t you dare lie to me! And last but not least, I’m your best friend and I’ve understood you as well as I know the back of my hand.” Mark secretly smiled at that.

“Well,” he said, “you know how many reasons are there for you to love me?”

Her eyes twinkled in a teasing manner. “How many?”

“Just one,” Mark said, lacing his fingers with hers.

“And that is?” she asked, looking up to him through her long, beautiful eyelashes.

“It’s because I love you,” Mark said. “Unconditionally and everlastingly. That should be enough reason for you, right?”

And he muffled her happy giggle with a kiss to her lips.

Mark’s eyes start to grow heavy. “S… Six…”

He remembers the way she blushed when he swatted her bangs away from her eyes. Remembers the way she warmed his hands, puffing her cheeks when he was risking his health for her sake. He remembers the way she gasped against his mouth, her spine pressed against the fence, her fingers fisting at the fabric of his sweater.

“Se…ven…”

“What are you doing, Mark?”

“I’m writing a song.”

“What’s it called?”

“Seven days.”

“Why?”

Mark went flustered and he nearly fainted when she stole his notepad and kept herself moving, dodging his every attempt in retrieving it, before she read on the lyrics he wrote.

“Surprisingly, a week feels really short. Any time spent with you, to end it, it’s a pity. I’m still curious about everything about you. I fall for you more as I get to know you.”

She sent him a look and Mark immediately babbled, “It’s not specifically about you, it’s about people in general—“ But she muffled the rest of his excuse with her lips, hands tugging around his collar, pressing him closer than ever.

“Eight…”

They just turned eighteen but Mark had her lying underneath him, fingers trembling and lips bruised from his feverish kisses. “I want to be with you. I want to make you feel good. Let me be yours.”

“Am I making you happy?”

“MARK, WATCH OUT!”

A tear slips away from his eye as he begins to close his lids. And the boy never gets to finish counting because his dreams stop there. And now, nightmares welcome him with open arms, just as darkness begins to envelop him once again.

Like an old friend.

***

“Don’t you think Yukhei will get mad?” she asks, giggling as she buries her face in her boyfriend’s chest, still peppering small kisses now and then. The clock’s ticking, showing the number 18.18 on the screen of her cellphone. They’re still mostly naked underneath the sheets—with her dressed only in her lingerie and Donghyuck only wearing his boxer—not caring that his roommate, Wong Yukhei, can come back there any second.

“What, because we just had sex on his bed and cuddled afterward?” Donghyuck says, and he chuckles when she punches his shoulder. “Hey, I did say I love you but easy on the hands there, Mike Tyson.”

She beams at him and giggles again when Donghyuck begins to hover above her and trails butterfly kisses from her neck to her collarbones. “Shouldn’t we shower? I feel so dirty,” she says, chuckling when Donghyuck licks a long stripe on the sensitive skin.

“Well, I’m about to do something dirtier to you so why bother?” He slides his hand down her stomach, making her fidget a little with his silky smooth touch, and hover his fingers above the line of her lingerie. Noticing how she nibbles on her lip, anticipating something to occur, Donghyuck smirks. “If I ask you to beg, would you do it?”

Her cheeks turn scarlet but she quickly retorts with, “No way in hell.”

He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. “I could make you feel really good, though.”

She can’t stand being the opposite of him when he’s being sinfully seductive like this. “I’m leaving,” she announces, attempts to wiggle herself free from his hold but he catches her with a snicker tumbling off his lips. Settling her down on his lap, he lays a hand on her spine while his other one sneaks around her waist, bringing her close until his lips graze the supple skin between her breasts.

“You’re leaving?” Donghyuck murmurs, landing another trail of kisses between the valley of her breasts, tongue darting out to taste her skin. “But I still need to worship my Goddess.”

She wants to send him a snarky remark but she’s too deep in pleasure to care at the moment. She sighs and runs her fingers through his hair. Donghyuck flips her around, laying her back to the bed, and spreads her legs apart so he can fit between them. She becomes nervous from the intensity of his gaze as if he’s being consumed by desire and he wants to drag her with him.

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” he says, bending down until she can feel his breath fanning the inside part of her thigh. “I’ve been wanting you for so long, you don’t even know.” His eyes never leave hers as he sucks bruises on the sensitive skin of her thigh. “And now that I have you where I want you, I still couldn’t get enough. What should I do?”

She swallows hard, instantly closing her eyes when he pushes her lingerie to the side, fingers dipping inside her warmth. His eyes glimmer with lust, wetting his lower lip once as he’s captivated with her sultry expression. “Fuck, you’re so sexy like this.”

Her fingers are twisting against the sheet when she hears his praise followed quickly by the heat of his tongue rubbing against her clit. She’s drowning, intoxicated by his every move, her orgasm nearing close.

But then Donghyuck suddenly stops and breaks away. His eyes are stern and wide, filled with horror.

She frowns as she follows his gaze, landing her eyes on the middle of her bare chest. There’s a long cut, fresh and red, that starts to appear inch by inch on her skin. It begins from a few centimeters below her collarbones to the skin between her breasts, until it stops just a few inches away from her navel.

“W-what is this?” She sits up straight, touching the cut with trembling fingers. She doesn’t feel any pain, which means—

She takes a look at Donghyuck’s chest—at the man who claims that he’s her Soulmate—and finds nothing. There’s no scar on his chest. The mark comes from someone else.

Donghyuck’s not her Soulmate.

Donghyuck’s gawks at the sight before he stares back at her without blinking. When realization appears vividly on her face, he gulps and stutters, “I-I can explain…”

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” She screams, her eyes filled with hurt and betrayal. And when Donghyuck just gazes at her in shock, she pushes him away by his shoulders with so much force, he almost topples off the bed. “GET OUT!”

“W-wait—” Donghyuck tries to explain, standing on his feet with his eyes filled with fear of being thrown away. He looks like death is approaching him. “Noona, please, listen to me—”

“No!” She throws everything she can reach by her hands—his pillow, the sheets, his clothes—while her eyes begin to grow hot and the pain of being betrayed and blatantly lied growing more vividly behind her chest. “How dare you do this to me, you—”

“Noona!” Donghyuck holds her wrists and tries to keep up with her struggle. “Please, calm down and listen—”

“I HATE YOU!” She bites back, crying with her teeth gritting behind her lips when Donghyuck has her pinned back down to the bed. “I hate you…” her voice reduces into a softer tone but somehow it adds more fresh wounds to Donghyuck’s feelings. He knows she doesn’t hate him just like how he will never be able to hate her, no matter what she does. Soulmates or not, she truly does love him. But this... This new scar on her chest... This still changes everything.

Donghyuck’s eyes turn sorrowful—there’s no more light in them. No joy, no mischievous gleam, nothing but a disappointment he has brought upon himself. “Noona…”

“I believed you,” she sobs, staring at him with broken eyes and quivering lips. “I believed you, Haechannie—how could you do this to me?”

Donghyuck loses his grip, feeling all of his strength leaving his body. “I’m…” He swallows and reaches out a hand when she throws her wrist above her eyes. “Noona, there’s a reason why I’m doing this—”

“Your scar!” She suddenly yells, eyes filled with nothing but rage. “That scar on the back of your neck—is that fake?”

“Noona—”

“Answer me!”

Donghyuck freezes, his throat feels dry when he speaks. “Yes,” He finally admits and he can almost hear her heart shattering apart. “Yes, it’s fake.”

She lets out a breath, one hand going to the side of her head. “I can’t believe it…” Her breathing goes a bit ragged. “I can’t believe you’ve been lying to me—”

“Yes, but—”

“After all this time,” she says, staring at him with new tears in her eyes. “After all this time, Haechannie… You’ve been lying to me.”

Donghyuck endures the pain that comes every time she says those words. “Noona, please, you need to listen to me.” And when he tries to take her wrist again, she pulls back immediately.

“Can you please leave?” she asks between her quiet sobs but her tone is definite. “I’m… I’ll be away before you come back so just—”

“Noona, can we at least talk—”

“Hyuck, please,” she cries, fisting the sheets underneath her. “Just leave me alone.”

And Donghyuck does as she says because he feels that if he stays just a second longer, she’ll break apart even more and he never wants to see her like that. He’s supposed to bring smiles to her face—to make her laugh just like the old days, but look what he has done now?

Goddammit, Hyuck.

He hurriedly puts his pants on and he’s already standing at the door before he can even place his shirt back on. “Noona…” He whispers, taking a last look at the girl who’s now hugging her knees to her chest and crying miserably to her hands. “I’m so sorry.”

But she doesn’t hear him. She doesn’t want to hear him.

Just let me be alone.

Donghyuck brings his gaze down to the floor. “I’ll give you some time to get ready. I’ll make sure you’ve left before I come back,” he says, closing the door behind him. “Goodbye, Noona.”

This situation seems familiar but it feels way, way much worse.

***

Mark Lee

18: 01: 19

“Doctor, how is he?” Mark’s mother quickly asks the man when he steps into the waiting room. Her husband stands behind her with a stiff hand on her shoulder, praying for his child’s health. Mark’s older brother bites his lower lip, waiting anxiously for the moment he can breathe in relief because he knows his little brother will be fine.

But that turns out to be wrong when the doctor shakes his head and says, “I’m sorry.”

The surgery has failed. Mark’s body rejects his new heart and he can no longer be saved.

Life ends but their sorrow stays.

***

After passing twenty minutes of trying to calm herself down, burying herself under the sheets during those dreading minutes, she finally gets up from the bed. Her hands are still shaky when she collects her clothing and dresses properly. She stares at herself in the mirror, taking a glimpse of the new long scar in the middle of her chest before she buttons her shirt up. Something must have happened to her other half—she needs to find out what it is. She needs to know who it is.

She closes her eyes. Everything hurts and she doesn’t know why but that man’s face—the guy who stood by her gate last night—keeps appearing on her mind. But every time she remembers him, another wound breaks inside her chest, and tears begin to roll down once more.

Exhaling a deep breath, she searches for her phone. She quickly scrolls through her contact list and dials the numbers she’s been searching.

Pick up, pick up, PICK UP!

A woman’s voice comes through the line. “Hello, Yongsan Municipal Library, how may I help—”

“Yes, hi,” she hastily greets, voice still filled with quivers but with more strength behind it when she introduced herself. “I’m looking for this guy named Mark Lee—he w-works at your place a-and—” her voice breaks at the end, trembling with tears that’s about to flood her eyes. “Can… Can you please, let me speak to him?”

There’s a silence on the other side of the phone and she wonders whether that lady doesn’t understand the words she just said or for some entirely different reason.

Please let him be okay.

“You’re looking for Mark Lee?” she asks and she nods until she realizes she can’t see her. “Y-yes,” she croaks out.

“Well, he hasn’t come here since two days ago,” the lady explains while her heart sinks below her stomach. “He said he was about to go through surgery—”

“Surgery?”

“Yes, for his heart,” she answers and her hand unconsciously goes to her chest. It’s starting to make sense now. “I heard he got into the operation room a few hours ago. I’m still waiting for the news, actually. It’s—oh wait, I got a mail. Maybe this is it.” There’s a rustling sound going on in the background and she waits with her heart thumping loudly. A few seconds later, she hears a soft gasp, “Oh my goodness.”

“Ma’am?” she starts. “Ma’am, what’s wrong? Is he alright?”

Say yes. Please say yes.

Another silence before the lady comes to answer her with a voice so quiet she almost mistakes it as a whisper. “Mark Lee has passed away, just a few minutes ago. He was—”

She drops her phone to the floor in panic and quickly unbuttons her shirt again. She runs to the mirror, focusing her gaze at her reflection and she finds nothing.

The scar on her chest has vanished, not even leaving a trace of it behind. Just like the memories she had with him.

Donghyuck doesn’t really leave the room even when she has screamed at him to do so. He’s closed the door behind him but he doesn’t walk away. Instead, he slides down to the floor, pressing his back against the wooden surface, and waits. The hallway is empty and Donghyuck shivers from the cold.

God, you’re so fucking stupid, he thinks to himself. You shouldn’t have agreed with Chenle. You should’ve known this wouldn’t have worked.

Donghyuck traces the scar on his nape—the fake scar that he made to make her believe. To make her think that he was her Soulmate.

He feels like he’s about to vomit. He’s so sick of himself. Disgusting, he thinks, you’re a piece of crap, Lee Donghyuck. He closes his eyes, biting on his lower lip as his mind flashes back to his conversation with his younger friend, Zhong Chenle.

“Hyung, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“You said you wanted to get close to her, right?” Chenle had once said to him. “She has a scar on the back of her neck. That’s the clue.”

Yukhei reached out to see what was hidden behind Donghyuck’s collar. “Shit, dude,” he said, hissing, “You don’t have it. The scar—you’re not her Soulmate.”

Donghyuck’s heart flopped and it took a moment for him to recover. “W-well…” He barked a laugh, masking his disappointment though he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Well then, there goes my chance.”

“No, you still have a chance,” Chenle corrected. “I know who her Soulmate is. And he’s dying.”

“W-what?”

“Mark Lee,” Chenle said with sorrowful eyes and a broken heart. Donghyuck knew perfectly who he was—that guy, the owner of prominent cheekbones, thin lips, and pale skin who constantly refused his offer to play soccer together. “Mark Lee is her Soulmate, Hyung. But he’s... He’s dying. His heart is weak and that’s why he doesn’t want to get close to her. He knows he’s not gonna last long.”

“B-but—” Donghyuck splutters, frowning. “Does she know about this?”

“No,” Chenle shook his head once. “They used to date and she didn’t even know it back then. They didn’t know it back then. Then they got into an accident and she lost her memories. Mark thinks it’s a chance for him to stay away from her.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Donghyuck shouted angrily. “He’s her Soulmate! She deserves to know! They deserve to be together even just for a while—”

“He doesn’t want to. He’s given up, Hyung. He wants me to tell you that.” And his next words were the last thing Chenle said before he left with an apologetic look on his face. “I know you want to push Mark to be with her but I think you should stop. He thinks it’s better this way.”

Donghyuck hissed under his breath, pushing his hair back in frustration. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Yukhei gaped before his friend confronted him and asked, “Yukhei, what happened when your Soulmate dies before you know them?”

The tall boy realized where Donghyuck was going with this. He remembered how Donghyuck hadn’t gotten any scars on his body yet.

“You’ll find yourself another Soulmate.”

With that in mind, Donghyuck ran through the corridors, stepping into the faculty he knew Mark Lee was in. The paler boy was in the middle of his literature class and Donghyuck just went in, blurting out, “Sorry Prof, it’s an emergency!” to the lecturer before he yanked Mark out of his seat. The older one was quiet, following him without asking questions until Donghyuck shoved him against a wall in an empty hallway.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Donghyuck asked through gritted teeth. His hands were grasping tightly against the fabric of Mark’s collar.

Mark stared at him back with cold, almost challenging eyes. “I should be the one who asked you that. You’re the one who suddenly dragged me over here.”

“She’s your Soulmate!” Donghyuck nearly screamed at him. “Do you know how rare it is to find your Soulmate at such a young age?”

Mark only kept his face straight when he replied, “So you’ve heard.”

“Yes, I’ve heard, you asshole,” Donghyuck spat back. “And from your friend too because apparently, you’re too busy being such a fucking coward to tell me yourself!”

Mark’s eyes darkened at his degrading words but he didn’t say anything.

Donghyuck exhaled in exasperation. “Look, Mark. do you know how much she wants to find her Soulmate? How much she wants to be with you? You’ve known all along and I know you guys had a history together so why the hell aren’t you two together now?”

Mark’s jaw clenched before he broke their eye contact. “It’s better this way.”

“Why, because you’re dying?”

Mark’s eyes grew hard before he closed them. “Among many reasons.”

Donghyuck was on the verge of punching him so hard across his jaw but when he saw the wounded look that flitted through Mark’s eyes for just a few seconds, he restrained himself. Instead, he just asked,” How could you be so selfish?”

Mark immediately turned to look at the other man with a hard glare, his heart beating fast from his rage. “Selfish?” Mark asked, his tone sounded almost as sharp as a knife. “I’m selfish? Donghyuck-ah, I’m letting the person I care about the most in the world fall into another man’s arm because I don’t want to hurt her! If I die, she’ll—”

“She’ll what? She’ll be sad? Devastated? Well, hey, news flash, Mark. Everybody dies!” Donghyuck exclaimed. “You say you’re dying but you can never know when you’re actually going to die. My condition is as good as a person can be but who can guarantee I’m gonna live long? What if I get into an accident? What if I suddenly get sick and die the next day? You can never know so don’t use that as an excuse, you coward!”

Donghyuck had a point; Mark knew that. But it wasn’t easy.

Mark just shook his head. “I can’t do this.”

“Of course.” Donghyuck scoffed. “And that’s why I said you’re being selfish.”

“You want to talk about being selfish?!” Mark was losing his patience. “Try to look at yourself! You’re here, pretending like you care and want us to be together when it’s obvious that you’re happy with all of this because you get to have her for yourself—”

Donghyuck punched the boy with his right fist. He couldn’t help it. He snapped.

The punch wasn’t hard enough to knock the teeth out of his mouth but it was hard enough to make Mark feel lightheaded and fall to the floor. He hissed, rubbing the pain off his jaw, and leaned his back against the wall.

“Fine,” Donghyuck said, staring at the boy who looked up at him with a new bruise forming along his right jaw. Donghyuck could see how much Mark wanted to be with her and how much he tried to convince himself to do so. But he could tell how Mark was afraid. That boy almost lost everything once—he knew how awful it was to be left alone. He didn’t want that to happen to her and though Donghyuck understood that, he just couldn’t accept it yet. “If you want to give up on her,” he said, “Then go. Do it. I’m not you so I don’t know how you feel but I can see that deep down inside, you still don’t want to let her go. But the thing is, Mark, I’m gonna fight for her. I’m gonna make her happy. Soulmates or not, I’m gonna try to make her feel loved because I am—I’m in love with her. But I am not happy taking her away from her Soulmate—from you. That’s your fault. You had two options and you chose to leave. That’s your own decision, so don’t try to make yourself feel better by telling me how I feel. You don’t know me.”

Mark brought his head down, nibbling on his lip. His eyes felt hot and he felt downright awful about himself. He didn’t mean to insult Donghyuck—he was just angry for a second there. His emotions had gone over control.

“Then go make her happy,” Mark said, picking himself up from the floor and walked away. Donghyuck stared at his back and nodded with a sincere promise even when the boy could no longer see him.

“Stupid,” Donghyuck murmurs to himself as his flashback ends. “Mark’s right. You’re selfish. You’re such an idiot.” He punches the ground beneath him a few times out of frustration before he slides his fingers through his hair and pulls on the roots. He doesn’t notice how he just cut himself along his knuckles, his skin breaking and bleeding slowly through a thin layer. “You can’t even be sure you’re her next Soulmate, Hyuck. You’re just an idiot. An idiot and an asshole and you just lost her for the second time in your pathetic little life.” He closed his eyes and leaned back to the door.

Noona, please forgive me.

She slides down to the floor and hugs her knees to her chest. Pressing her temple to her knees, she sobs until her entire shoulders begin to shake.

Mark Lee was her Soulmate. And he knew—that’s why he came to her house that night. Why didn’t he just tell the truth? And why did he look so familiar? So familiar and yet she doesn’t remember anything. Why can’t she remember him?

God, I beg you, please. Let me remember him, she prays under her muffled sobs, if he ever meant something to me, please, let me remember him. I don’t care if it’ll hurt me, I don’t care. I just want to remember him. That’s all I ask.

Mark…

But as Mark dies, the permanent scar he gets on his chest before his final moment dies with him as well. The memory of him never suffices and Mark is just a shadow, following her everywhere but one that she cannot see.

She braces herself to glance one more time at the scar on her chest but there’s none. The cut has disappeared. She’s just as good as new.

Except for the faint cut that recently appears on her knuckles.

***

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

The Oncoming Storm First Interlude: Electricity in the Springs

Kung Lao x Reader

Look, I don't even think these fit into the actual timeline of the story? But it was fun to write. An imagine that still fits in this Oncoming Storm universe! Will post Liu Kang here in a second. AND ALSO I could not make them kiss before they kiss in the actual story, so again, I'm only kind of sorry for the torture! Lol.

Part 1 of The Oncoming Storm Second Interlude: Steam (Liu Kang x Reader)

The training session had been rough that afternoon. You felt you’d more than earned a trip to the springs after how exhausting it had been. Besides, your inky arcana kept leaving you soaked. The only time you truly felt clean after a fight like that was when you got to bask in the springs. You understood why Liu was constantly covered in soot now. It was easier to function as a mess than to go out of your way to the springs. Worse than that, the springs were a time suck. You’d come down there and fall asleep or get carried away listening to stories told to you by the monks that frequented them.

That day was no different. You made your way to the springs, towel wrapped around you securely, and you joined a group of female monks who had invited you to sit with them. You listened to them speak about their day animatedly and then sat in comfortable silence while they continued to talk amongst themselves. You tended to check out when you were no longer included but had caught them talking about you several times.

Their gossip was never a bad thing, but they did enjoy teasing you for the company you preferred to keep. The fiery Liu Kang and handful that was Kung Lao. The monks jostled you awake and then bowed respectfully and said they had to take their leave. You were fine with that. There wouldn’t be anyone else in the springs but you and you would bask in the warmth of its waters and the emptiness of its walls.

Closing your eyes, you relaxed in the water and resigned that you would likely fall asleep for the afternoon. It almost always happened every time you came down there. Why did you resist the siren call of the relaxing water? You had no idea. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you resisted a great many things those days. Perhaps it was out of habit, perhaps out of guilt. Who knew? The human psyche was complicated and you had no aspirations of figuring it out.

Footsteps were followed by a familiar energy but before you’d sat up and opened your eyes, Kung Lao had leapt into the water and a great wave of bubbling warm water soaked over you in a wave. You fell over with a laugh. Upon correcting yourself, you were met with a face full of water. Kung Lao was splashing you, a grin on his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” You laughed, wiping your hand over your face. He splashed you again as if to make a point, though what the hell that point was you had no idea. You splashed him back as he made to speak and he coughed, spitting out water. You chuckled and swam a little away from him in case he retaliated.

Narrowing his eyes at you, he considered his options. “Oh, now you’re in trouble.”

“What? You started it!” You swam further away, making your way into the next pool but Kung Lao pushed into the water and the wave that it resulted in knocked you back into the water. You yelped and barely caught your breath before being submerged. He offered a hand to pull you back up and you smacked his arm then splashed him in the face. You coughed up water and then splashed him a second time for good measure.

“I didn’t mean to drown you!” Despite his insistence he was still laughing, so much so that his face had turned red.

“It’s not that funny, Lao.”

“It’s pretty funny, Y/N.” He purposely called you by your full name almost constantly. You’d thought it started as him teasing you when they were kids but now it was kind of sweet. He was the only one who did it. Even Liu Kang called you by the shortened form of your name. Kung Lao settled next to you but you scooted a cautious foot away from him. He laughed and purposely closed the gap between you again. “Hey!” He objected when you pushed him away again.

“I don’t trust you for a single second.” You accused and he seemed to think your words over before nodding.

“That’s fair.”

“You came in here very�� chaotic. You do know that people come here to relax, right?” You gestured toward the water.

“What people? It’s just you. Figured you could use some action.” Kung Lao rested comfortably, arms outstretched on either side of him, taking up an impressive amount of space for one man. That was when you realized that Kung Lao was completely naked and your expression must have changed so severely to alarm that he’d noticed. “What? It says clothing optional on the door. The towels get all heavy and saggy.”

“You are a mess of a human being.”

“Oh? And you like me, so what does that say about you?” He laughed, pointing an accusatory finger toward you.

“I’m deeply flawed, obviously.”

“You’re defensive, is what you are. Always have been.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval then closed his eyes as he leaned his head back. He’d gone from hyper and attacking you with water to relaxing as though he’d been there all afternoon.

“Remember when I was that comfortable?”

“You need to learn to relax, Y/N.”

“I was relaxing, Kung Lao!” You splashed at him and he wiped his face free of water.

“Come on. Relax with me!”

“You are such an antagonist.”

“Sue me for having a little fun.” He stuck his tongue out at you then closed his eyes and relaxed again. You settled a bit away from him, sinking further into the water and avoiding looking at him. When he didn’t tease you further, you finally relaxed and closed your eyes. You heard the movement in the water but didn’t think much of it. When you opened your eyes, Kung Lao was crouched in the water before you, watching you.

“…you okay?” You asked curiously. He nodded and took your hands, pulling you further into the water with him. You leaned your head back with a whine and he laughed as he kept pulling. You allowed him to do so and he took you further into the pool until they were treading water. “You just can’t let me relax. That’s it. I’ve figured it out.”

“Tell me that this isn’t relaxing.”

“…it is.” You averted your gaze but agreed.

“What’s with the look?” He urged you to spin in the water with him and you laughed.

“I’m tired. You’re so needy right now.” He wasn’t usually like this. Well, he did have a fondness for pestering you but usually it was less pulling you around and more teasing.

“No reason.” He lied, right to your face! You saw it in his eyes. “Are you really bothered by me?”

“No.” You shrugged. “It is fun to give you a hard time though.” He laughed and splashed you lightly again. “So help me, Kung Lao…”

Much to your surprise, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close in a hug. You stiffened up at first, expecting to be dunked but his arms instead were comforting. He didn’t seem willing to let you go so you relented. Sometimes fighting with him was impossible anyway. And who were you to argue with him? His arms were strong, surrounding you, and offered you a deep security and indescribable warmth that was far beyond that of the springs.

“I’m really glad that you’re here, Y/N.” His voice was different then. The usual lilt of teasing was gone and it was deep and serene, a rare seriousness beyond his usual playfulness. There was a special place in your heart for Kung Lao. A hole that only he could fill, a hole you hadn’t realized was there until you’d been reunited with him.

“Me too, Kung Lao.” You watched the corner of his lip curl into a smile, fixated entirely on his lips. His hands brushed slowly over your back and then he rested his chin in your hair, offering the top of your head a kiss. You placed your hands against his chest and basked in the comfort he brought you. You leaned back up with every intention of telling him you were going to fall asleep and drown if you stayed there but found him watching you. The look in his eyes was so serious that you weren’t sure how to process it.

You pushed some of his messy hair away from his face. He took your hand and rested it on his strong jaw. That was your Kung Lao. All grown up and one hell of a man. Your fingers crept over his jaw and down his neck, eyes following your fingers. He tilted your chin back up, closer to him. His lips brushed just barely against yours and he hesitated, as if unsure that you would reciprocate. You would have, but that moment of hesitation was enough for you to wonder if either of you were ready for that.

You smiled and placed your other hand on his other cheek. Then with a yell, you leaned back and shoved him underwater, jumping up to do so. Then you swam backwards and away from him. When he popped back up and shook out his short, wild hair with a spray, he stared at you in disbelief. Then his smile returned, as if he understood why you’d done what you had done. You shared a knowing look.

“I’m going to get you back, Y/N. Just you wait for next time.” He swam to the other side of the springs and climbed atop the stone. You sunk into the water and turned away because there he was, naked, and making his way to the locker room. You stole a look when you were sure he wasn’t watching you. He had the cutest little butt, good god.

You sunk further into the water with a sigh. Placing your fingers to your lips, you swore you could feel the residual touch of just that gentle brush of his lips. It filled you with confused butterflies. There was no relaxing after that, so you made your way out of the springs.

#kung lao x reader #imagine #x reader #kung lao x you #a spin off of my fic #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #kung lao/reader #kung lao/you #romance #fluff #hot springs #mortal kombat movie #mortal kombat 2021

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hansols-yoda-boxers · 3 years

Text

Camp North Star: May 30th

Reader Insert x ???

Word Count: 1451

Genre: sfw, intro

Contents: swearing

“Once upon a time I was actually punctual,” you muttered to yourself, hauling your luggage quickly off the bus. If only you’d managed to find someone to carpool with this year. But no, you had left it all to the last minute and now, predictably, you were rushing trying not to miss the one shuttle.

And you were not going to miss it. You didn’t even know who you could call if you did. Nayeon didn’t have a car so that option was out. And Hongseok would absolutely tell everyone, or make you do something to dumb to make up for having to come and get you. You didn’t want to think too hard about what stupid dare he’d probably try and make you do in repayment. Or maybe he’d just refuse and force you to call the head of programming.

The thought made you shudder. Seungcheol was likable and had always been nice to you. But you’d seen him annoyed more than once and that was frightening enough. You didn’t think you could take nearly an hour of his disapproving stare as he drove you up to the camp.

Your feet hit the pavement harder as you spotted the small shuttle bus, far too scared to check your phone for the time. At this point it felt like a matter of will. You knew in your heart that you were late and that it was supposed to be leaving and whether they were waiting for you or by force of the universe or sheer dumb luck it was still sitting there with the door open as you raced across the parking lot.

Miraculously, the door stayed open as you bounded over the pavement, nearly tripping but managing to stay on your feet. You were sure if anyone was looking out the window they were laughing at you but you didn’t care. It was far more important to actually make it there than to look good or put together. You were a mess but you were going to make it.

“Mess” might have been the best word to describe your life this year.

“I’m here!” You huffed, grabbing the door and leaning on it while you looked up at the bus driver.

“You're lucky they told me to wait for you,” she grumbled. “Get in.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled sheepishly, feeling heat lick at your cheeks. You were grateful at least that your coworkers told her to wait up for you but still, it was embarrassing. Then again, it was your own fault that you were late.

Of course it didn’t help the matter that they all started laughing and cheering while you climbed on the little bus.

“Finally!” Joshua cried. “You’re so late!”

“They’re not that late,” Yoohyeon pouted, throwing you a sympathetic smile as you passed her, taking your suitcases to the back of the bus.

“You say that like you weren’t late last year,” Shinwon teased.

“You say that like you weren’t the second last one here,” Yanan called from the back.

You managed to get your suitcases into one of the seats before turning back to find a seat as the bus pulled out of the parking lot. The little shuttle bus was nearly full despite a few of the coaches heading up on their own. You found the only free seat beside one of the guys you had only barely met before and sat yourself down.

“Hey, Wonwoo right?” you asked.

He looked up from his book. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Yeah I’m Wonwoo.”

“Cool,” you smiled. “I’m pretty sure you’re my co-coach this year.”

“Mhm,” he nodded while returning his attention to his book.

Your face pulled into an inquisitive look as you regarded him. You would have enough time to properly get to know him but this definitely wasn’t the best introduction. Maybe he didn’t really get that he was being a little rude?

“Don’t mind him,” Shinwon caught your attention, leaning back over his seat. “He’s shy.”

“I’m not shy,” Wonwoo grumbled, shooting Shinwon a glare as his cheeks flushed pink. “We’re going to be busy the next few weeks. I want to read while I can.”

“You are shy though,” Joshua teased, leaning over the back of his seat.

“Hey,” Siyeon leaned forwards over hers. “Wonwoo, didn’t you say something about getting a ride with Jihoon?”

Wonwoo sunk deeper into his book, looking equal parts annoyed and flustered. “He wanted to drive alone.”

“Yeah that sounds about right,” Joshua snickered.

“To be fair,” Seokmin called from the front. “Junhui and Minghao are also driving.”

“Yeah but Minghao agreed to drive Jun,” you said.

“I mean, Yuto’s mom is driving him,” Yanan chuckled.

“Hey! No laughing at Mrs. Adachi driving Yuto,” Hyunggu called.

“Yeah, she always bakes cookies and brings them with for the staff,” Wooseok added.

“That’s true,” Shinwon added. “I’m gonna wait for him in the parking lot. I want first dibs.”

“Only if I don’t get to him first,” Joshua chuckled.

“There’s always enough to share,” Hyunggu pointed out.

“Well, or enough for one person to eat all summer,” Shinwon said.

As the debate continued over who would try and take all of the cookies Yoohyeon leaned over and poked you. You looked up to meet her soft smile.

“It’s good to see you again,” she said. “It’s been a bit…”

“Ah, yeah,” you felt the nervous grin tug at your lips. “I know I kind of dropped off the face of the earth for a bit.”

“Yeah, I was wondering about that,” Siyeon popped up over the back of your seat again. “You disappeared there for a bit and you haven’t been online much.”

“Yeah I- Shit kinda went really downhill and I just needed… I don’t know space? A change?”

“What happened? I- or-” Yoohyeon watched the grimace settle on your face. “You don’t have to-”

“No, you know what I’m over it.” You said, sitting up a little more. “I got dumped, but it was like, months ago,” you did your best to ignore the sad looks on Yoohyeon’s and Siyeon’s faces. “It was back at like, the end of January. It sucked but I did the crying and then I realized what an absolute ass he was by the end. Like, trust me I’m really not missing out being out of that relationship.”

“Dude, that sucks,” Siyeon said.

“Agreed,” Bora added from next to her.

“I’m sorry it turned out so badly,” Yoohyeon said sympathetically. “I know you really loved him.”

You shook your head, “I’m done being sad or angry over it. I’ve been working on myself and I kinda needed to just… disappear for a bit. But now I’m moving on and honestly, I just want to enjoy myself this summer. Like last summer I was attached and missing him the whole time, and the year before I was smitten, and god I’ve grown so much since that first summer.”

“You were so nervous that first year,” Siyeon chuckled.

“The kids kept sleeping through the night but didn’t Siyeon say you woke up a lot?” Bora chuckled.

You sighed with a roll of your eyes but a smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, okay, but in my defense I was stressed that the kids were going to need something and I wouldn’t be able to help them. I kept having stress dreams.”

“Oh how far you’ve come,” Siyeon hummed.

“And,” you glanced at Wonwoo, unsure if he was listening. “I still have all my lesson plans from last year which means we have way less work to do.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome, Wonwoo,” Yanan called from the backseat. “We did so much work last year.” Wonwoo mumbled out a small ‘thank you’ in response.

So he was listening.

“The next few weeks will be a lot less stressful than last year.” You said.

“So long as Seungcheol doesn’t tell us all to make everything better,” Bora teased.

“Don’t even say that,” Shinwon said quickly, throwing a glance back over his seat. “I’m banking on doing basically nothing for the next two weeks.”

“Seungcheol wouldn’t do that,” you said. “He can be strict but he’s not mean.”

“He’ll only do that if your lesson plans are shit,” Changgu said.

“And that’s why Shinwon and Joshua are both screwed,” Yanan chuckled.

“Please don’t say we’re screwed,” called Mingyu.

“I second that,” Added Wooseok with a worried tone.

“Relax,” said Shinwon. “My plans aren’t nearly as bad as Joshua’s.”

“Hey!”

You snickered as the two in the seat in front of you bickered.

“Is it always like this?” Wonwoo muttered, sounding annoyed.

You rolled your eyes as you settled back into your seat. “Yep, welcome to coach life.”

#camp north star au #cns au #bruh how do i tag this?#kpop imagines #twice imagines #pentagon imagines #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #ateez imagines #dreamcatcher imagines #reader insert

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katnissmellarkkk · 3 years

Text

Okay, here we go! Imma do my liveblog of The Hunger Games, Chapter One, for #THGagain :

I’ll put my thoughts underneath the cut so I don’t clog up the dash 🥳

Okay but right off the bat, Katniss says her mattress cover is rough 🥺. I don’t know, this just made me sad all of a sudden.

So okay, but the fact that Prim had a bad dream and climbed in with their mother? I don’t know if that indicates that Prim still sees their mother as a source of comfort whereas Katniss can’t let herself feel the same way or if it’s just because she didn’t want to wake Katniss.

Maybe it’s supposed to be that Prim is too naive to understand that their mother is mentally fragile? Since in Mockingjay, she says “I know there’s only so much mother can hear,” or something like that, as a way to prove she’s not a little kid anymore sooo. I don’t know. Just some thoughts.

Katniss is shady towards mama right off the bat 🤣. Katniss is shady no matter what though. It’s what makes her narration sound like a teenage girl.

If Katniss is so anti-social though, who’s telling her her mother was once beautiful?

As a cat lover, I take offense to Katniss’ insults to the poor one eyed furball 😭.

So coal miners are also women? I suspected as much but I didn’t realize it was explicitly stated? So if Katniss’ life had gone differently, would she have become a coal miner?

So none of the houses in Twelve get electricity outside of a couple hours a night? Or just in the Seam?

I always forget that Katniss had nightmares even before the games 😔😔😔. Nightmares of her father “being blown to bits.” She has a vivid way with words.

Her father made her bow 🥺🥺. I knew that. I just thought I should mention it again. She uses the bow her father handmade throughout the series 🥺.

Also she says Peacekeepers turn a blind eye to “the few of them who hunt”. A few is more than two. Who else besides Katniss and Gale go hunting?

I like that she randomly starts mumbling to herself 🤣🤣🤣

Once upon a time, Katniss was outspoken apparently. But she mentions that she has to hold her tongue even at home because Prim may repeat her words. I don’t know why, but Prim seems immature for twelve years old. At twelve, in today’s society, you’re going into sixth grade. A sixth grader should know how to keep a secret or hold her tongue.

Gale says she never smiles but in the woods but isn’t that the only place they really spend time together? 🤣

“I kind of liked that lynx but I liked the money I got for it’s pelt more” 😂😂😂

An arrow inside bread. How fortuitous 😭😭😭

I do love that Katniss’ first introduction of Gale is “he could be my brother”

“But we’re at least not that closely related” 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

“Katniss, get off your cousin”

Even though the merchant class is smaller

Meaning they’re even more inbred

And Katniss is half merch-

Okay I’m done with this line of thinking 🤭😅

So backwoods 🤣

So did Mrs. Everdeen’s parents disown her? Or what? Do they still own that apothecary shop? Does Katniss occasionally walk by her grandparents in the town square? Like I’d like more context here, Suz 🙃

Aww, I always feel so bad for Katniss when she talks about her mother abandoning her 😭😩🥺

“But to be honest, I’m not the forgiving type” me either. Me either 🤧.

This may be why I so closely relate to her when she’s angry.

And why when people in the book say she needs to be more forgiving (ala Haymitch) I’m like “no”

I’m sorry but on second glance (more like 8th glance because I’ve read this chapter since I was 16) it’s so obvious Gale was hitting on her here 😅.

She’s oblivious 🤣🤣🤣

As she should be 😆

So later on, in the second book at least, Katniss definitely has some high respect for Hazelle Hawthorne. But here it seems to be like she’s implying Hazelle and her own mother are useless without her and Gale, and like they wouldn’t be able to provide for themselves. Maybe Hazelle just wasn’t fleshed out to Suzanne when she wrote the first book, the same way the love triangle you can tell if you look is sort of just tossed in there in the first book too? Anyways, just a thought.

That line about Prim being the only person Katniss is certain that she loves is sweet (it’s actually one of my favorite lines in the series) but it’s also so shady at the same time 😅😅😅. Like girl, you’re not sure if you love your mother or even your best friend (in a platonic way)?

Katniss makes a point in mentioning it took a long time for her and Gale to become friends. And I feel like that has been simplified a lot along the way, but it never really sounded to me like Katniss and Gale were besties for as long as most people think. The movies are a lot to blame for this, I know.

I don’t actually think Katniss is truly jealous here of the other girls wanting Gale? I feel like if she were she would have unconsciously insulted the school girls who were into him instead of just outright saying she was jealous, just not for romantic reasons. But who knows 🤷🏼‍♀️.

It was already mentioned earlier but I think Suzanne made a continuity error here, when Gale and Katniss mentioned fishing at the lake. The lake is a place Katniss explicitly mentioned in Catching Fire, to be private between her and her father. She even specially said she never took Gale there. I feel much better about my own writing continuity errors now.

Okay, both Katniss and Gale are so dumb. I would never prepare a feast for after the reaping. They’re just jinxing themselves. I have OCD really bad no one come for me.

I like how The Hob is a black market that’s literally just sitting in broad daylight 🤣🤣🤣.

Katniss just referenced being attacked by dogs... um I’m sorry, do we have no fear of rabies in this universe? 😭😭🙃🙃😐😐😅😅

Katniss : “me and the mayor’s daughter aren’t friends, we just hang out all the time at school, eat lunch together, sit by each other and are always partners. But weren’t not friends.” 🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

I like the mention of hair ribbons for the rich girl. This is just the fic writer in me seeping into my reading.

Gale and Madge’s little dispute ...

I see why they get shipped together 😅. They’re both just taking swipes at each other here.

Awww, Katniss sticking up for Madge, even though Madge is the privileged one 😭. Katniss has such a pure heart.

The entire point of the Madge/Gale interaction though was just to set up the class divide explanation in Katniss’ head to the reader.

But my Peeta centric heart also picks up on the comments in Katniss’ head of how unlikely it is to be chosen at the reaping when you’re a town kid.

In other words, Peeta had a slim to none chance of being chosen and still was.

Now I think of it, so was Prim...

That was just an unlucky reaping for the kids without tesserae 🙃

Also it reminds me of every fic I ever read that mentioned a conspiracy in the reapings and how the kids aren’t actually chosen at random but anyways I digress

I feel Gale though, with the whole idea of knowing something isn’t this person’s fault and there’s nothing they could do but still being so angry at them because it isn’t fair that you have to suffer and they don’t.

My anger issues are really showing 😅😅😅.

Honestly though, if Katniss is saying Gale on a normal day is rational about the class divide not being merchants faults, then clearly his issues with Peeta later on really were just of jealousy and not because he was a merchant vs Seam.

I just feel like I’ve seen that around and I’m not really convinced

In my interpretation of the character, Katniss’ reasons for not sharing in Gale’s rage comes from exhaustion after a lifetime of powerlessness. Some people (re: females more often) just get worn out about the things they cannot change and can’t even let it get inside their brain because there’s nothing they could do about it.

I mean, she is a more understanding person than Gale but I feel like so much of her character is already so tired right from chapter one.

Okay, just a pointless rambling thought

“Where something pretty” these children are so shady 🤣🤣🤣 that’s a line I would say though

The fact that her like 42 year old mother still fits in a dress she wore at like 20 is really a testament to how hungry they are 🤧🤧🤧

Okay but I’m not trying to pick on her mother, but when they were starving, why did either she or Katniss sell the fancy clothes from her apothecary days? I’m nitpicking I know. I’m a nitpicker.

Also good for Katniss trying to forgive her mother.

God knows how hard it is for me to try and forgive people.

Literally, God knows.

I like that Katniss didn’t disagree with Prim saying she’s beautiful, just that she doesn’t usually look this way 😂😂😂.

I just know my sister wouldn’t let me not take tesserae if this was us. She’d be like “you’ll be fine, four entries? Please. We can have more food for an entire year, don’t be selfish.” 😅😅😅

I feel like noting that Katniss and Prim’s age gap isn’t that significant? Four years? That’s not that large. Not even at 12 and 16.

They herd these children off like they’re .... pigs going to a slaughter... 🤭🤭🤭

Katniss casually stating “I could be shot on a daily basis” 😐😐😐

Katniss and Gale agreeing they’d rather be shot than starve is honestly so sad but lowkey sounds like something two teenagers would say. They should have put dialogue like this in the movies.

I didn’t even remember District 12 has 8,000 people.... why’d I think they only had 3,000????

I need to update some of my fics with this information

Katniss just said “televised by the state”. I’ve never heard her call any region a state before?

I like that Katniss calls Effie’s grin scary and white, because tons of people (i.e me) whiten our teeth in today’s society. And to Katniss and probably all of Twelve that’s creepy. I think it’s weird to Europeans too but l digress.

Also do the people in this district brush and floss, they never seem to mention it in the books, ya know?

Honestly the idea of the hunger games sounded cooler without Songbirds and Snakes telling us it was just some dumb guy’s idea that no one ever thought would come true.

Aww, sugar is a delicacy 🤧🤧🤧

I knew already that but lemme fully feel that sentiment for a moment okey

Umm I’m sorry, did Mayor Undersee just casually state Lucy Gray Baird’s name every year and we never knew it? Did Snow just allow this? Seems suspish

Also the idea of Katniss being her distant relative and hearing the name and not knowing the connection... and yeah, anyways. I got wayyyy ahead of myself and off track sorry

Why would Haymitch hug Effie? I’m sorry, but Hayffie having a secret affair at some point in all the years they worked together seems more likely than I thought.

I mean, Katniss never mentions Haymitch hugging anyone besides her and Peeta when they just almost died, are about to die or that one time Katniss was sobbing because she thought Peeta was gonna die.

You know what though? I like that at this moment, when the name is about to be announced, Katniss worried about herself. She spends so much time worrying for her sister, babying her sister, mothering her sister, she deserves ten seconds of worrying for her own safety.

Of course, said sister is the one chosen. Ironic considering the whole encounter with Madge.

Okay, I think that concludes my thoughts for chapter one of The Hunger Games!

#thgagain #I’m not tagging anything else because this is so long I’m so sorry if anyone tries to read this mess 😅😅😅😅😅🤧🤧🤧🤧

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theuniversitychallengereview · 3 years

Text

UC 51.03 - London Business School vs Hertford, Oxford

Since it was introduced at the 1988 Olympics, every single Gold Medal in the Women’s Team event in the Archery has gone to South Korea. Including yesterday’s win that’s nine straight victories, and their period of unparalleled dominance continues. The men’s team have also won six of the nine they have contested, and a mixed team won the first staging of that event in Tokyo too. Adding their success in the individual events, South Korea have won 26 gold medals, and 42 in total, in the 43 archery events which have been thus far staged at the Olympic Games.

As Twitter’s own @tarequelaskar pointed out in the brilliant article which alerted me to this story, this is a perfect example of specialisation, an economic concept whereby countries or companies focus intensely on one particular aspect of a given industry and come to serve that niche in such a specialised fashion that they become the ultimate experts and nigh-on irreplaceable. This is done in government and business by providing companies with incentives to specialise, and supporting those who succeed at it.

With respect to Korean archery, similar forces are at play. There are a bunch of professional teams and leagues in the country, giving archers financial stability while they focus on their training, something not as common across the world. Said training involves such things as practicing in live baseball stadiums and replicas of the Olympic venues, to mimic first the atmosphere and then the conditions that will be present on the day of the actual tournament.

This philosophy of marginal gains - the same system used by Team Sky and Chris Froome to win multiple Tour De Frances on the trot - puts their preparation miles ahead of the competition, which goes some way to explaining their dominance. It is not the only reason. Before the fine-tuning of the elite shooters comes the discovery of the promising young ones, and the inspiring nature of past success (along with a historic national love of the sport) helps to create a virtuous cycle which give Korea a far larger number of archers to choose from than any other country. This greater choice means that there is a greater chance of finding the next Gold medallists.

Making the argument that professional footballers are at a higher level than other elite sportspeople, Michael Cox used this same argument in a recent article for The Athletic. To summarise, he stated that because there are a far higher number of people who wish to become professional footballers, that must mean that the ones who do make it are at a higher standard than those who make it in other sports. Initially, I was drawn in by the pure maths of this point, but having thought about it some more I’m no longer sure to what extent I agree.

Now, the fact that hundreds of millions more people play football than rugby, or basketball, will certainly confer some level of “eliteness”, but only up to a certain point. Because football has been so popular for so long, the general standard of the play, relative to what it used to be, has had longer to improve. In the same way that if you transplanted a 100m runner from the Olympic final in the early 20th century to now they probably wouldn’t even qualify for the games, a footballer from the 80s would stand less of a chance of making it were they playing today. Many other sports don’t have that level of natural progression, afforded by decades of technical and tactical advancement - at least not globally.

But the numbers argument only goes so far, as can be demonstrated by the Korean archers. Yes, there are more archers in Korea than anywhere else, relatively, giving them a higher chance of uncovering those with a natural aptitude, but the reason behind their bow and arrow dynasty is the specialisation. The hyper-detailed level of training and focus which allows them to be the best they can possible be.

Now, archery is unique in that there is a theoretical maximum score (I understand that this is to some extent arbitrary, and related to the rules of the game as defined by some human being, semi-randomly, but it works in terms of this argument, because it gives a percentage score of how good the archers are based on the agreed-upon parameters of the sport), which, at the Olympics, is 720. The Olympic record is 700 (held by Korean Kim Woo-jin, giving an implied “eliteness level” of 97.2%.

The best player in the history of football (don’t @ me) is Lionel Messi, and few would doubt that he operates at or above that level of perfection in his sport. But I also don’t think you could doubt that Novak Djokovic, or Serena Williams in her pomp, were similarly magnificent at tennis. Cyclists on the Tour De France put their bodies through more in three weeks than most people endure in a decade, and have every aspect of their training and diet strictly controlled so as to bring them as close to perfection as possible. There will certainly be a higher number of these elite performers in football, because there are a higher number of paying jobs for said elite performers, and because more people attempt to become elite performers, but I don’t think that it follows on from that that they are better at their sport than other elite athletes, all of whom have undergone years and years of specialised training to get them where they are.

Does any of this matter, in terms of how each sport should be enjoyed? Probably not, but its interesting to think about, and kind of awe-inspiring to try and appreciate just how good those at the top of their respective games are. And if there is some discrepancy in the level of eliteness between the different sports it doesn’t detract from the fact that they would handily dispatch any civilian challengers without breaking a sweat. The joy comes from watching people who are good at stuff doing that stuff - and, as evidenced by the crowds which gather for non-league football, it doesn’t matter whether or not they are at the absolute pinnacle of said stuff. They’re still going to be much better than the rest of us.

Competitive quizzing is different from the activities previously mentioned in that any normal person can have a guess at pretty much any question, with a chance that they’ll get it right. What sets the contestants apart on shows like University Challenge is the speed of their recall under pressure - the quickness of their knowledge as well as the knowledge itself. But there are plenty of armchair quizzers who think they could wipe the floor on the show, so just how good are the actual contestants? (Compared to an elite footballer or archer on an imaginary scale that accounts for relative skill in all disciplines?). I don’t know (and in case you hadn’t noticed by now I’m just fascinated by people who are really good at anything, and wanted to share some of that fascination with you all), but I’ll try and have a go at answering it anyway.

So, the World Quizzing Championships have been dominated by British and Irish quizzers since its inception in 2003, with 16 of the 18 winners coming from either Britain or the Republic of Ireland (who have four wins courtesy of The Egghead Pat Gibson). This, in my mind, makes this neck of the woods comparable to South Korean archery. It is a hotbed of talent, and the infrastructure is in place to encourage and aid talent maximalisation. Indeed, if you scroll down the list of highest ranking players at the WQC in any given year you can see a significant cohort of UC alums, so clearly there are a number of elite quizzers who have passed through the show.

This specialisation can be seen in microcosm with the preponderance of top-level quizzers produced by Oxford and Cambridge, who both have a long-standing culture of competitive quizzing far beyond other Universities. The debate is there to be had on the fairness of each institution having so many teams, but clearly they produce enough elite players to compete with far bigger Unis when entering as (sometimes tiny) colleges.

In conclusion, I think it is pretty obvious that UC is a breeding ground for world-class quizzers, and though no one has won a World title straight off the bat after appearing on the show, there are top-50 and top 100 finishes abound, which is still greatly impressive, and helps to give an idea of just how good these students really are.

Hoping to justify the 1000 words I’ve just written about their exceptional talents are two teams from the London Business School and Hertford College, Oxford. The Oxford side have never made it beyond the second round, but LBS reached the semi-finals in 2006, their only previous appearance on the show. Anyway, there is quite literally no time for me to recite the rules; here’s your first starter for ten...

Paxman mentions that LBS were in the show in 2006, but doesn’t mention that they reached the semi final, which is lazy imo. A bunch of them are studying for MBAs, which makes sense. He doesn’t mention Hertford’s previous appearances either, but that’s more understandable.

Hertford’s Hitchens takes the first starter with Kennedy, and the Oxonians added a full set of bonuses on words made up by authors - including a couple of educated guesses. LBS hit back with the next question, but can only manage one bonus on famous scientists. One of the two they miss is Rosalind Franklin, and Paxman teases them for not spotting an apparently obvious clue within the question.

The first picture round is on national emblems, and LBS are first to recognise that of Vietnam for the starter. They don’t know Laos or Belarus, but do know that Mozambique has a machine gun on its one. Butterworth then jumps the gun with argon on the next starter, giving his answer just as Paxman says it in the question. Butterworth makes up for it with the music starter, recognising Fat Boy Slim before anyone else, and LBS know Primal Scream and Wu Tang Clan too. They’re still fifty points behind though, and will need a big second half to turn things around.

This task gets more difficult for them, as Hitchens takes another starter. Lloyd adds a second in a row for Oxford and they are nearly one hundred points clear. LBS really need to get some points on the board, and Ruess duly obliges, knowing that there is a massive sculpture of a spider called Maman, which sounds needlessly scary, to the extent that I’m not even going to google it.

The comeback is ended before its even begun as Oswald takes a starter for Hertford, which gives them the picture bonuses - the starter having been dropped by both teams. Lloyd produces another excellent guess of Reuben, demonstrating how useful it is to have vague knowledge as well as specific knowledge. This is one of probably five questions he has answered in a throwaway manner, but which turned out to be correct.

By this point LBS seem to have accepted defeat. Ruess takes another starter, but there is little to no urgency on the bonus questions. They’re right, granted, to have none, they have no chance of winning, but if they gave it a go they might scrape a high scoring loser spot. Ruess is the only one who seems bothered, and bags himself ten more points. They have an amusing discussion about methods of poisoning in Agatha Christie novels (’it was used as a curry ingredient?’, Ruess wondered aloud, trying to figure out which spices could be poisonous, before Butterworth pointed out that it wasn’t something commonly used as a curry ingredient, prompting respectful mirth from the audience) on the bonuses, but still languish miles behind.

Lloyd grabs the last starter of the night for Hertford, who win by eighty at the gong.

Final Score: London Business School 100 - 180 Hertford, Oxford

At the end, Paxman mentions Hertford’s stellar guesswork, which means I wasn’t chatting nonsense (at least on that front, the jury is out on the rest of it), and says that they’ve done a really good job. Incredibly effusive praise for a score of 180. He really is going soft in his old age.

Phew, that was a long one. If you made it through the intro you deserve a prize. And that prize is that you get to come back next week for the next episode of this blog!! Woop woop!

And if this wasn’t quite enough UC content for you then you can subscribe for extra blogs on my Patreon, which features Retro Reviews from the 2015/16 series of the show. Ta x

#london business school #hertford #oxford #bbc2 #quizzy mondays #jeremy paxman

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stilloutofmyvulcanmind · 4 years

Text

The Wedding

Pairing: Earth-2 Harry Wells x Female!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: None

Summary: Needing a date for a cousin’s wedding, you ask your colleague and friend Harry to pretend to be your boyfriend for the day. But is it really pretend when you’re already secretly in love with him?

A/N: My first fully-fledged Harry fic! Ahhhh! If you guys like it and want more, there may be a smutty sequel

"Got any plans the weekend, Harry?" Cisco asked, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms. "Or you just gonna wait here for us to get back?"

Harry glared at him from behind his coffee mug. "Actually, Ramon, I do my best work when I don't have your incessant drivel in my ear."

"Oh yeah, hot stuff? What grand piece of technology are you gonna bless upon us on Monday then? A personality transplant?" Cisco laughed, narrowly swiveling out of the way of the pen that came hurtling towards his head.

"Nothing this week. I have other plans."

"Suuuch as?"

"Y/N invited me to her cousin's wedding and asked for me to…pretend we're together. So she doesn't get inundated by annoying questions."

"Ohhh myyy God!"

"What?"

"Look, I know my fiction tropes and fake dating? It's a classic! And it's only gonna end one way, my dude."

Harry raised an eyebrow and took a sip of coffee.

"With you two declaring your love for each other."

Nearly choking, Harry coughed up the drink, his grip on the armrest turning knuckle white. "I...are you…suggesting that I… love Y/N?!"

"And that she loves you, genius."

Spluttering, Harry shot up from his seat. "Don't be absurd, Ramon! Y/N doesn't love me! The only reason she asked me was because you and Allen are already in relationships! Th-there's no love! Or any romantic…feelings. Why would there be? She's…smart and kind and beautiful! She's brave and strong and I assure you there's no universe in which she'd ever love me!"

Cisco looked at him a moment, smile curling up on his lips. "See, I was just teasing you before, but wow, dude, you're really in love with her."

"Maybe you're in love with her!"

Cisco simply raised his own mug, failing to hide his own smirk behind it.

"... Shut up, Ramon."

"Thanks for agreeing to this, Hare," you said, smiling over your shoulder at him before resuming your task of unpacking.

"It's fine. Nice to get out of the Labs for once." Harry dropped his bag on the armchair of the hotel room you were sharing and hooked the one carrying his suit on the bathroom door frame. "But uh," he gestured to the one bed in the room, "how are we going to negotiate this?"

"I've got that covered." Reaching into your case, you pulled out the rolled-up sleeping bag.

Harry made a face. "You expect me to let you sleep in that?"

"I expect you to play me for it." Dropping the bag down, you held up a closed fist. "Paper, rock, scissors."

Harry stared at you a moment then laughed. The sound made your stomach flip in the giddiest of ways. "You should know I've never lost a game," he said, walking towards you.

"There's a first time for everything, Doctor Wells."

"Bring it on, Y/L/N."

You looked yourself over in the bathroom mirror a final time, adding the final touches to your make-up and clasping a silver necklace in place. You were ready, and looking pretty damn fine. Knee-length and with a cold shoulder, the midnight blue dress fit you perfectly. Exiting, with the intent on adding your shoes, you stopped short when you saw the sight in front of you.

Harry was dressed in a suit that matched the shade of blue you wore, an unintentional but useful detail for your ruse, the white button up standing out stark against the jacket. The most distracting detail was the fact that he'd left one too many of the top buttons undone, leaving a tantalizing amount of neck on display.

Not for the first time you wondered if asking Harry to be your fake boyfriend for the day was your smartest idea. Being forced to share a bedroom and pretend to be smitten with the man you were already in love with was definitely going to take a toll on your sanity. But showing up to yet another family event filled with happy couples on your own, and having to deflect the endless questions as to why seemed worse than having to spend forty-eight trying not to go mad.

"Y/N," Harry's voice broke you free from the trance, "you...you look…nice."

"Thanks. So do you! Who knew you scrubbed up so well." You moved around Harry quickly, avoiding looking at him too much and sat on the edge of the bed, to pull on your heels, while he tucked the sleeping bag he'd ended up using away out of sight.

"Ready?" You asked, finishing up and grabbing your purse.

"As I'll ever be." Harry opened the door for you, then locked it behind you both before passing you the key to tuck away in your purse.

Even though the hotel had been booked by your cousin for all the out of town guests, you hadn't expected to do much pretending until the reception. While guests were mingling on their way to the ceremony, there wasn't much time to chat yet, so not much time for prying questions or close observations either. Harry, however, seemed prepared to delve straight into it. He took your hand in his almost immediately, giving you a quick glance to make sure it was okay, then walked with you to the elevator. It was a simple gesture, but it sent your heart racing.

How the hell were you going to survive the day?

You were starting to think you'd accidentally brought another Wells doppelganger to the wedding. A much more polite, charming doppelganger, because it had been two hours now and Harry had yet to reduce anyone to tears or be anything more than a little sardonic.

"Who are you and what have you done to Harry Wells?" you whispered in his ear as you lined up outside the fancy hall to congratulate the newlyweds and take your seats for the reception meal.

Harry chuckled. "I don't think your family would approve of your new 'boyfriend' if I was my usual self."

"Okay, fair. Still, it's weird. I wasn't aware you even knew how to be charming."

"You don't build a billion-dollar research company by not knowing how to occasionally butter people up."

"Well, thank you. It must be painful for you, and I appreciate it."

Harry smiled at you softly. It was the same one you'd only ever previously seen him use on Jesse. It did a funny little thing to your heart and nearly distracted you from the hand that came to rest low on your back as he guided you forward.

"Annie! Congratulations!" You beamed, hugging your cousin and kissing her on the cheek. "You look beautiful!"

"Thank you!" Both she and her new husband couldn't stop grinning, and you loved how happy they looked.

"Uh, this is Harry, my boyfriend." The word sounded strange to say.

"A pleasure. Congratulations," Harry smiled, shaking both their hands.

"I could hardly believe it when Y/N told me she'd be bringing a plus one! You kept that one quiet!"

Laughing nervously, you shrugged. "We wanted to keep it on the down-low for a bit."

"Wanted to keep him to yourself more like!"

"That too."

"You know, you look kinda familiar, Harry, but I can't- oooh! I know! You look like that scientist Y/N used to crush on! What was his name again, Y/N?"

Feeling the heat rapidly spread up your neck and across your cheeks, you looked at anywhere other than Harry. "I, uh, I can't remember now."

Annie gave you a knowing look, but Harry came to your rescue before any more embarrassment could be had. "We'll let you greet the rest of your guests. Congratulations, again."

"Thank you, Harry. Talk later."

Harry led you into the beautifully decorated hall, his hand still hovering on your back as you made your way to the table. You were the first ones there to take a seat, which meant you were unable to escape the look he gave you.

"So, you used to have a crush on Harrison Wells?" He asked with an amused eyebrow raise.

You groaned, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. "In my defense that was years before I joined the Team and found out about the whole evil speedster thing. Don't mention it to anyone, please?"

Harry looked at you a moment longer, then nodded. "It stays between us."

"Thank you."

Other guests began to arrive at your table, and the topic was dropped.

The food was amazing and the company just as much, and with the distraction of other people to talk to, it was easier to ignore the constant butterflies in your stomach.

After the meal and the speeches and the first dance, people began to mingle. You and Harry mostly stayed at your table, however, talking with your Great Aunt Margaret. The woman was in her nineties now, but she was just as sharp as ever, and probably one of the members of your family you were closest too.

"Another drink, ladies?" Harry asked after a little while.

"Gin and tonic for me, dear."

"Y/N?"

"Just an orange juice." As tempting as it was to just drown your feelings in alcohol, keeping a clear meant it was far less likely you'd make a fool of yourself by saying something you regretted.

Harry nodded, standing from the table and heading over to the bar.

"So, who’s he really?" Margaret asked as soon as Harry was out of earshot.

"What do you mean? He's my boyfriend." Margaret fixed you with her infamous 'cut the bullshit' look. "He's a co-worker. A friend. I asked him so I wouldn't have to show up to another family function alone."

Margaret watched you thoughtfully. "That's what I thought. You've been too skittish around him for you to be together."

"Was it that obvious?"

"Only to me, dear." She smiled and leaned across the table to you. "But you two need to talk."

"Why?"

"Because it's clear he's more than just a friend to you, and he's hopelessly in love with you."

"Wh-what? No, he's not!"

"Dear, I don't think I've ever seen a man more in love."

"I…" Looking away and down at your hands, you chewed your lip. "How do you know?"

"The way he looks at you. It's plain to see."

"No, no, I'd have noticed if he'd been looking at me like that!"

"We don't reveal our true feelings when the object of them is watching. We wait until we think they aren't looking. And the way that man looks at you when you aren't paying attention...it's like you hung the moon. I can tell you there aren't many people lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that kind of adoration."

"Oh."

Margaret's smile was kind when you met her gaze again. "Talk to Harry, Y/N. You deserve to be happy, and I get the feeling he does too."

"He does. He's been through a lot."

"Did I miss anything?" Harry returned carrying your drinks.

"Just some girl talk. Thank you," Margaret said as he set the glasses down in front of you. "Why don't you two have a dance?"

"Oh no, you know I'm not much of dancer-"

"Nonsense! I went to enough of your dance rehearsals to know better!"

"Aunt Margaret-"

"All the other couples are up dancing! You don't want to be the odd duck, do you?" To anyone else, Margaret's happy grin seemed innocent enough. You knew better. "Go on! Off with you! I'll watch your drinks!"

Before you could protest further, you were being poked out of your seat by her walking stick in your ribs.

Harry followed suit before he too came under attack, and took your hand as you merged into the crowd already on the dance floor.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. I'm the one who should be apologizing for this-" Harry pulled a few moves that could really only be described as 'dad dancing.'

Muffling a laugh with your hand, "That's…something," you giggled, swaying your own body in time with the music.

"Told you."

"Maybe one day I'll teach you a few moves. Ready for when you have to do your Father/Daughter dance with Jesse."

Harry groaned, "Don't. Don't make me think about that."

Giggling again, it turned into a squeak of surprise when Harry suddenly grabbed your hand and twirled you around.

"That's what happens when you tease," he grinned, hands landing on your hips to steady you.

"Not the worst punishment I could think of."

"Oh, and what is?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Maybe."

Realizing you were suddenly on the border of flirting, you shrugged. "You know, the usual. The same stuff everyone else hates as punishment," you mumbled.

"I see." It seemed like Harry was going to step back and let go of your hips when the song changed. A slow song. A slow, romantic song. Harry swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, "We should...head back?"

You were going to nod when you looked across the floor to spot Margaret. She motioned for you to move close together. "Or...we could stay. Unless you want to get whacked with a walking stick that is."

"No. No, I don't."

It was awkward for a moment, then Harry took you into hold, one hand staying on your hip while he took one of your own in the other, with your free arm finding it's way to his shoulder.

He smiled. You returned it. Together you started to sway softly to the music.

It was way too intimate. More intimate than you really had the capacity to deal with, especially after your earlier conversation with Margaret. So you did the only thing you could think of to not have to look Harry in the eye. You lay your head on his chest.

For a split second, Harry's breath seemed to hitch, then it evened out again, though his hold on you tightened slightly, drawing you in until there was no space left between you.

Okay so maybe this was actually way more intimate. But at least now, with your head tilted away from him, you didn't have to hide the sappy smile that spread across your face.

Yet your mind was still racing. Was Margaret right? She'd never been wrong before. But that would mean Harry actually loved you in return, and that...that was nearly enough to make your brain explode.

You would have to tell him. He'd never say anything himself. But when? Now? Later? Tomorrow? Next week? That would be safest. If things went sour you wouldn't have to share a room or a car, and you could simply retreat to the safety of your apartment and eat away your feelings. Yet it felt like if you didn't say anything soon you'd implode.

It was so hard to think when he was still swaying you like this and was he…he was resting his cheek on top of your head. He was relaxed. Enjoying it just as much as you were.

The song came to an end, and Harry's grip loosened enough for you to take a step back. He didn't say a word. Just looked at you with that soft smile again.

You had to say something. Now. Just say the words and tell him. It'd be fine. You just had to say three little words.

"I...I'm really warm. I'm gonna go get some fresh air."

Coward.

Turning before you could see his face drop, you wormed your way off the dance floor and made a beeline for the door, exiting out into the garden and the cool night air.

"Stupid, stupid!" You muttered under your breath, pacing up and down the cobblestone path. How could you have chickened out like that? The opportunity was right there. And there was no way Harry would've bought the 'needing fresh air' excuse, which meant now you had to come up with something more believable or leave it feeling awkward. Why did you have to fuck it all up?

"Y/N?" Harry's voice from behind you nearly startled you out of your skin. Spinning around, you saw him approach, illuminated by garden lights that lined the path. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine."

"If I did something-"

"No! You didn't do anything. You've been amazing all day, Harry."

Nodding, Harry came to a stop in front of you. "You ran out so quickly, I thought...maybe…"

"It's not you, I just...I had to get out before I did something potentially very stupid. We both know how much you hate stupid."

"The last thing you could ever be is stupid."

"Says the man with seven PhDs. Pretty much everyone is stupid to you."

"Never you."

The way he was looking at you...it made you want to turn and run. There were too many emotions in his eyes, and it almost made you hate the hope that bubbled up in your chest.

Harry was the first to move, running a hand through his hair as he turned away. "Ramon...he said this would happen. I thought...I told him not to be ridiculous. Now here I am…he'll never let me live it down."

"What did he say would happen?" You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Taking a breath, Harry faced you. "He said I'd end up...saying how I love you."

The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, the din from the party could no longer be heard, the garden disappeared, only you and Harry and the thumping of your heart remained. "You love me?"

"How could I not? You're...special. I'm not an easy person to get on with. I know I'm an annoying, cantankerous dick, and while I can act the charmer, when I'm just being…me, I can't, I don't...I don't always find it easy being around people. Except you. From the start being around you was easy. You know when to call me out or when to let me rant, and always you're kind. You're smart and brave and beautiful and I love you."

You stood in shock, simply staring at him. You'd never expected him to say anything let alone make a confession like that.

Harry cleared his throat, "Of course I value your friendship above anything else. Say the word and I'll never mention it-"

"I love you too. I wanted to say it in there, after our dance, but I couldn't…I was too scared it wouldn't be reciprocated."

For a breath, Harry hesitated, then he took your face in his hands, fingers curling around the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. Your response was immediate, kissing him back as fiercely as he kissed you, your own hands clutching at his arms. It was everything you'd ever imagined and then some.

Breaking the kiss Harry stayed where he was, holding you as if he were scared you'd slip away if he let go.

"Wow," you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

"I should've said something sooner."

"I should've too, but it doesn't matter now."

"No, it doesn't."

Unable to stop the giggling like a schoolgirl, you kissed him again. "Just so you know I'm going to want a lot of these kisses."

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

"I love you, Harrison Wells."

"I love you too."

Best wedding ever.

Like what you read? Consider buying me a coffee! I’ll love you forever!

Tagging: @pinkdiamond1016

#harry wells x reader #harrison wells x reader #earth 2 harrison wells x reader #harry wells #harrison wells #harry wells imagine #harrison wells imagine #the flash imagine

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all-of-the-above · 3 years

Text

Being a woman today

As a woman in today’s world, you may feel…

a) Insecure

b) Body conscious

c) Unpopular

d) Not pretty enough

e) Not perfect enough

f) Weak

g) Scared

h) Unsatisfied

i) Pressured

j) All of the above?

Well, I think most of us can say me too. One thing I think we know for certain is that we are not alone in how we feel, yet the world can still make us feel like the odd one out. You see, being a woman is entirely one thing, but to be one in the society we have today is another. We face so many different things, fight for so many rights and are still put down, shamed and ignored. To feel uncomfortable in this world I think is honest and true. I hear you, so many of us are listening its just not enough. Who knew those princess stories weren’t true?

To be male or female in our society is highly pressurising, but I think we can all agree it is more so for women. Social media has infiltrated our lives, bringing connection, laughter and creativity but also pressure, bad body images, abuse and suffering. We scroll through pictures and think this is how I should look, why am I not that skinny, why don’t I have her hair, my teeth aren’t perfect, my lips are too small, I should wear more makeup, but also, I shouldn’t wear too much makeup. I need that outfit, I should go there, I need to be that happy, I should have that by now. No. Stop. Stop hurting yourself, stop hurting your body image, stop hurting your mental health. Take a breather, step back. No one is that happy all the time, no one looks like that 24/7. Stop comparing yourself to others, stop putting yourself down and wishing you could be more. You are already enough, and I know it is hard and it is tough, but so are you. Since when did life become this huge competition sometimes with complete strangers? Why put yourself through more stress just to look good for people who don’t really care. We consistently want something we don’t have and forget what we do have. You don’t need to post every time you do something just to show off. You don’t need to edit your photos so much that you lose yourself. You need to be you, post reality, post if and when you please, post for you. Stop editing and instead start loving what you see, embrace your ‘flaws’, your individuality. Life is for living, for real conversation, for smiles and for sunsets, for food, for music, for friends, for family, not for a screen that makes you feel unhappy in who you are. Stop competing, stop wishing to look like them or be like them, stop scrolling and start being you each and every day and don’t hide it from the world, share it, make a change, be someone who posts life and inspire others to stop wasting precious time editing and putting down and under appreciating themselves and their life.

Something else that really bugs me is the cost of being a woman. Why is everything so much more expensive? No, I don’t want to hear all that rubbish about women being the bigger consumers okay, I get it, we all do, but its still no reason for such stark differences. Why can a man get is hair cut for £10 whilst I have to pay £40 and up? So, women’s hairstyles can be more complicated, okay, but that’s a lot of money! Why is my plain white top £10 whilst his is £5, there’s no difference? Oh, and last time I checked sanitary products still cost. Those are not cheap, it is something we haven’t even chosen, we have no choice, but have to pay for it? What’s all that about? And why in the hell are they considered a luxury? It is a necessity, a healthy and clean way of caring for our bodies and they should be available everywhere for everyone, free of charge. But no. We pay again. And not only this but men have the gall to say periods aren’t painful, we shouldn’t be so moody, there’s no need it’s just natural. You see they refuse to understand, to listen, to help. A Professor of reproductive health at University College London, John Guillebaud, told Quartz that patients have described the cramping pain as 'almost as bad as having a heart attack.' Even a fact like that isn’t believed. Yet again women feel another form of pressure to be a certain way, to deal with it and move on. We are told to look certain ways, so we buy the latest fashion instead of being mocked, we cut our hair to just simply keep it healthy, we get our nails done, our eyebrows, eyelashes, we tan, we wax, we shave. We do so much, yet still pay more. How is it fair that we should pay more for things that men have too (like a haircut) when we also have so many other expenses. To be a woman means to feel under constant pressure. Maybe we don’t need to update our wardrobe every year, or consistently get our nails done, okay, but I think the point still stands. To be a woman is not cheap, it’s not easy, it’s not for the faint hearted, it’s tough.

A woman feels pressure from many aspects of society, and I know one in particular is clothes. We can feel insecure and even scared to wear a particular outfit to a particular place at a particular time. Why is that a thing? How is that fair? Its not. I should be able to walk down the street in a dress and not be starred at by men that are old enough to be my dad. I shouldn’t worry that someone may take my outfit as an invitation. I should be able to wear what I want and not be called out for it. Why am I starred at for wearing leggings and a top yet when I wear jogging bottoms and a large sweater, I’m invisible? You see sometimes it’s like a disguise, a safety net, a comfort blanket. My own invisibility cloak where I can go out and feel maybe just that bit safer, less looked upon, freer. This isn’t right, we shouldn’t be creating a world where girls are scared to wear skirts, to wear shorts or a dress or even jeans or leggings. Girls shouldn’t feel scared to wear their clothes. We don’t take a guy walking around with no top on and shorts as an invitation do we? So why take a girl in a dress, more covered up than a guy like that, as an invitation? I think we’ve proved that even at this point sometimes it doesn’t matter what you wear, its still scary out there. So how on earth have we built a society where women now could wear a mini skirt or high-vis coat and still be taken advantage of, still abused, used and even killed? Its wrong. Why is being a woman labelled as easy, that we don’t have to do much or worry about much. If you listened, looked, read, researched, you would see just how hard it is. It’s not easy, it’s scary, it’s pressurising, it’s tough.

To be a woman today means to be tough, it means to have a hard shell, to be prepared for the world, to support yourself, to love yourself as much as possible and feel comfortable in who you are. It means to be satisfied in your life and in you, whilst trying to not let the world around you scar your skin. This is for all the women out there, I hope you know you are not alone, you a brave, beautiful, bold and brilliant. The world is cruel but don’t let it stop you, know you are strong and capable of so many things. Know that who you are right now is more than enough.

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justletmeplayminecraft · 4 years

Text

this is a mini-sequel to my last space outlaws fic, set the next night. it mostly serves as dialogue practice for mumbo & wels, so don’t expect a super compelling plot. i have however realised i’m struggling with mumbo’s voice because it’s pretty similar to mine. experiment success.

usual psa: this fic is based in @martuzzio's space outlaws universe & may not be completely canon. we out here to have fun & i hope you have fun reading!

featuring: two tired boys have a Talk. an additional dollop of comfort to the last fic.

warnings: nightmare mention, self-sacrificial mentality, broken bones, discussion of the events of the previous fic. this fic won’t really make sense if u haven’t read it so please check the warnings on the link!

Mumbo rubs his eyes as he walks down the corridors of the ship. His feet echo the path without him needing to look. There's too much to think about besides where he's going. The thoughts in his head are like static. He couldn't sleep in his room with Grian and Iskall so peaceful beside him. He's not sure if he'll be able to sleep at all.

Upon reaching the nearest kitchenette, he pours himself a glass of water. It's cool as he sips, forcing himself to relax. Walking through to the common area, he's surprised to find a lamp already on. Someone's curled up at the edge of the sofa, settled against the cushions.

"Hello?" Mumbo calls, unsure if they want company. It might be better sitting out here with someone instead of just his thoughts. The head leans back slightly, shadowed by the lamp.

"Hey, Mumbo." Wels's voice greets him, the edges of his smile just visible. "Can't sleep either?" Wels swings his legs around so Mumbo can sit down. He places his glass on a side table, tucking his robes close to him.

"However could you guess?" Mumbo replies. He sounds more tired than he'd like to. He at least tries to arrange his hair so it looks presentable. "Wanted a change of scenery."

"And you didn't end up in your lab?" Wels asks.

"I don't-" He tries to return the teasing tone but falters. He's honestly not sure how he feels about returning to tinkering. After everything that's happened, knowing his skills were almost used by someone else he just- he needs to get over himself. The others will understand. Well, they will if he ever gets the courage to tell them. "Not this late, I'm not," he finally manages.

"Guess that's fair." Wels nods in understanding. "I'd be training my energy off but-" He gestures to his arm. Mumbo frowns for him.

"Had any updates on it?"

"Stress said she'd cast it tomorrow." It's snug and secure against his chest, carefully out of harm's way. "I mean, I'm going to hate it, don't get me wrong, but at least I can worry less once it's in the cast." Mumbo can't even tease him for it. He'd feel exactly the same. Wels has always been pretty physical in the crew. Hopefully he didn't have any missions coming up.

"It's a good chance to practice with your non-dominant hand?" He offers, which gets a gentle laugh from Wels.

"I have a suspicion Stress might lock me out of the training rooms."

"Can she actually do that?" Mumbo asks, curious. She's threatened Iskall with it before, yes, but he never found out if she did. Iskall valued his life enough to not push her further.

"I'm hoping I don't find out. D'ya think I can go stir crazy on a ship this big?"

"Ask Cub or someone, I'm sure he'll make it an experiment."

"I think I may annoy him too much." Wels sounds proud of it. "I'm not easy to observe."

Mumbo can't resist replying, "I can see you just fine." It gets a disappointed groan from Wels and a kick at Mumbo's leg. Mumbo finds himself smiling at how gentle it is after watching him fight.

"Who let you out anyway?" Wels questions, his eyes glinting in the low light. "Weren't Iskall and Grian staying with you?"

"I snuck out," Mumbo replies. Wels snorts. "Weren't Jevin and Beef with you?"

"I snuck out," Wels repeats Mumbo's words with a smirk. Then he pauses, eyes narrowing. "Actually, I think Jevin let me sneak out. There's no way he didn't notice." Mumbo nods. Jevin could feel a pin drop. Iskall is too observant not to hear Mumbo moving. They likely guessed they needed space. "I spoke to Biffa, though. That was nice."

"Is he doing alright?" Mumbo asks.

"As ever." There's a distant happiness in Wels's eyes at the thought. Mumbo knows the two used to go on missions with Jevin. Perhaps they shared experiences like this after. "I didn't tell him what happened," he admits, the smile disappearing. "I think he could tell something was up, though."

"You didn't tell us what happened," Mumbo points out. "Don't think I didn't notice that in the debrief." Wels steered away from the topic quickly and nobody questioned it, because Mumbo's situation was (as far as they knew) more dangerous.

"Do you want me to?" Wels sounds disbelieving that Mumbo would even ask. But Mumbo isn't going to back down so easily.

"I would. He wasn't going to do anything to you, right?" Wels shakes his head quickly.

"No, no." Wels is firm in dispelling Mumbo's fear. "He mostly told me what he planned to do with you," he explains, leaning back against the cushions. Mumbo finds himself unsure how to respond to that. Wels- what did he think all that time? The others have tiptoed around the topic since they got back. The ones who know, anyway. Mumbo can't think about it for too long without feeling like he can't breathe.

"The collar?" Mumbo asks, knowing he doesn't need to expand.

"Yep. All the details about what it does. What he'd do." Wels sighs. He looks into his lap, head falling to the side. "I felt so useless. I couldn't do anything. I was supposed to protect you and I couldn't even do that."

"It wasn't your fault," Mumbo tells him. He refuses to let Wels place any blame on himself. "The others wouldn't have got us in time without you."

"They nearly didn't." Wels takes a deep breath. "And you were nearly turned into some mindless work machine." Mumbo swallows at the reminder. A spike of pain alerts him to how hard he's digging his nails into his hand. He rubs his thumb over the spot to numb it. "Sorry, that was-"

Mumbo shakes his head with a tired sigh, "No. I can't just avoid thinking about it forever."

"I can't think of anything else." They fall into a silence, neither having the words to reply to their admissions. Wels pushes his foot against the armrest, dragging himself over until he can lie against Mumbo's shoulder. His blue eyes are as piercing as they are exhausted. Mumbo holds himself still.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks. He can't place where Wels is in his head. They seem to be at opposite ends of the same problem. Wels sighs, heavy against Mumbo's side.

"Do you want to?" Mumbo considers it. Iskall's great, but he's still treating Mumbo like heated glass ready to explode. Whilst Grian is in the dark about everything. He doesn't want to explain it to anyone else. If Xisuma thinks people need to know, he can tell them. Not Mumbo. But Wels was there. He gets it.

"I had a nightmare," Mumbo eventually says. His voice barely carries in the near-silent room. "Where I couldn't do anything or ask for help... Nothing. It was horrible. And I keep thinking if I ignore what happened it'll be okay but- I almost had my free will taken from me. How do I react to that?" Wels watches him, sat up to see better.

"I mean, it's not like you're gonna be quizzed on it." Wels's voice is gentle, but it's a reminder Mumbo needs. "You react to it just... However you react to it. You can be angry or upset or vengeful or whatever. Nobody's gonna judge you over this, Mumbo. And if they do you can point them my way."

"I wish I didn't have to," Mumbo admits.

"So do I," Wels agrees. "But we're all here for you. No matter what you feel."

"I know they wouldn't stop looking if something happened." Even if he was nearly impossible to trace, even if he couldn't help himself. "It just scares me how easily things could've changed." Wels hums.

"Maybe focus on that first part," he suggests. "We look after each other. That's what we do." Mumbo nods. He can manage that. When his thoughts spiral (because it is a when, rather than an if), he knows they've got his back. That's been proven over and over again. The worst can happen and it'll still be true.

"Okay." Mumbo smiles as Wels tries to stifle a yawn. He returns to his spot on Mumbo's shoulder. "Your turn."

"Haven't I already talked?" Wels complains, peering at him. Mumbo gives him a look. He's not very intimidating, but Wels breaks eye contact first. He sighs. "I've always felt the need to protect people," he starts, "to an unhealthy extent. You've probably heard X get on me about it before."

"Once or twice." Mumbo remembers well when Xisuma coolly forbid Wels from going on missions until he stopped needlessly risking his life. It's hard to forget. He avoided Xisuma for about a week afterwards.

Wels scoffs, "Yeah. Right. I have an issue, sue me. See, I even admitted it." Mumbo laughs gently until Wels continues. "It really is what I said before, though. I just felt useless. I came to protect you and I couldn't even do that. If I just paid more attention, moved faster, whatever. I feel like I should've been able to do something."

"But you know it's not your fault?" Mumbo checks.

It takes Wels a moment, but he replies, "Yeah. I did what I could. Sometimes that won't be enough and I have to accept that." Mumbo smiles, leaning his own head onto Wels. It's not the comfiest but some contact won't hurt either of them. His eyelids are feeling heavier, too.

"Imagine how bad it could've been without you there. I only stayed so calm because of you."

"You need to give yourself more credit." Wels pokes Mumbo's leg. "You did great."

"So did you," Mumbo replies. "We both did the best we could. How about we agree on that?"

"You strike a hard bargain." Wels holds his uninjured arm out. "Sure." It's a bit awkward shaking hands with the two of them so close. But it makes them both smile, and that's the point. The silence is more peaceful this time. Until Wels asks, "Could you give me that pitch?"

"The pitch?"

"The one you were going to give. Or explain one of your inventions." Wels shifts against his side, burrowing into the cushions more. "Full disclosure, I think I'll fall asleep easier if someone's talking. So..." Mumbo laughs. Both of them separate to get more comfortable, keeping contact points between them.

"Want me to explain the jetpack?" Mumbo suggests.

Wels smiles, "That'll go completely over my head. It's perfect." Mumbo smiles, taking in the sight of him. Legs crossed, arm bound, a robe thrown over his undersuit (Mumbo doesn't envy Stress having to get that off tomorrow.) His hair is falling out from behind his ears. Mumbo's going to miss that if he cuts it again.

In total, it takes around fifteen minutes of Mumbo explaining before Wels's breathing falls into a perfect rhythm. He doesn't wake when Mumbo shifts into a sleeping position, only falls closer against him.

With the hum of the ship and Wels's gentle breaths, it takes Mumbo five minutes to fall asleep from there.

When Xisuma finds them, having his suspicions about the light left on, he smiles. He tucks a blanket around the pair, and resolves to make sure the others avoid this room for the morning.

#space outlaws au #space outlaws #my writing #mumbo #wels #tag ramble time #that line about wels being forbidden from missions was meant to be a one off #how bad would he have to be for x to do that?#how badly did he almost/did get injured when he didn't need to?#also xisuma's pointed but calm anger? terrifying #for a one off i just wanna ramble about it now #anyway #hope you enjoyed #and have a wonderful rest of ur day

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morganaspendragonss · 4 years

Text

Bad Things Happen Bingo Masterpost!

And that's a wrap on my @badthingshappenbingo card! Thanks to anybody and everybody who requested a square - this has been so, so fun! I've had this card for years and have been actively working on it for a year and a half, so it's incredible to have finally finished it 🥰

Prompts and Fills listed below the cut:

Used in Sacrifice/Ritual - Filled

you would be the one to rescue me | BBC Atlantis | Jason x Pythagoras

When Jason wakes, Pythagoras is gone.

This in itself is not so strange. What is strange, however, is that his cloak has been left behind despite there being a significant chill in the air. And when Hercules begins to wake, and there is still no sign, Jason knows.

Something's wrong.

Rage Against the Reflection - Filled

out, damned spot | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

TK wakes up gasping, choking on air. The sheets are suffocating him and, when he tries to free himself, they only seem to get tighter. The hands reaching out for him, trying to calm him, are the final straw; TK throws himself from bed and sprints to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him as he collapses against the sink.

On some level, he is aware that the hands were Carlos’s, that the sheets were theirs, that his hands are clean, and that the dream was just a dream.

But they weren't always that way.

Falling Through the Ice - Filled

ice in my veins | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Carlos only turns away for a second, he swears. Unfortunately, a second is clearly ample time for his boyfriend to get into trouble because when Carlos turns back around, TK is no longer standing where he left him.

Instead, there’s a sizable hole in the ice.

Flashbacks - Filled

start again from the beginning | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK & Owen

Owen trusts his son. He’s watched TK fight his addiction and stay sober for the last six years, and he has faith that he can handle himself.

But when TK doesn’t show up for work the night after proposing to Alex, Owen knows that something is wrong. After all, they've been here before.

Branding - Filled

setting fire to our insides for fun | Supernatural | Meg x Cas

Cas had been prepared to find demons. Frankly, he would have been concerned if he didn’t find demons, given that that was his mission here. What he hadn’t been prepared for, however, was to find two demons torturing another, pressing the hot end of a branding iron into her forearm.

He killed the two torturers with practised ease, barely wasting a moment before they were both on the dirty, wooden floor, eyes burned out their sockets. Only then did he allow his surprise to catch up to him, breathing heavily as his gaze settled on someone he hadn’t seen in a long time.

Meg.

Memory Loss - Filled

focal point | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Waking up in the hospital is becoming all too familiar. Being the one in the bed is less so, but Carlos has had his fair share of hospital trips. He knows the drill.

As soon as he sees him awake, TK breaks out in harsh sobs. "Carlos," he breathes. "I... I thought I'd lost you."

Caught in an Explosion - Filled

can we skip past near death cliches? | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

It’s the kind of call every first responder dreads. A bomb threat in an apartment block, civilian’s lives on the line, the whole situation a hair’s breadth away from disaster. And Carlos is right in the middle of it.

tw: explosions, bombs

Forced to Kneel/Bow - Filled

in case you don’t live forever (let me tell you now) | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

His teammates were still sitting in the communal area when TK entered, eyes glued to the tv screen. Paul was the first to notice him, and TK’s concern only grew as he got everyone else’s attention, their worried gazes falling on him one by one.

“There’s a hostage situation at that big, fancy hotel across town," Marjan explained. "Apparently it’s pretty serious, they’ve had to send police in, and, um, well…”

Marjan paused, and TK felt dread wash through him, knowing what her next words would be.

“Carlos is there, TK. He’s gone in.”

tw: references to gun violence

Be Careful What You Wish For - Filled

can you beat back the night? | The Witcher | Geralt x Jaskier

He misses the bard. Geralt won’t admit it, not even to Roach, but he misses him. After months—years—of Jaskier’s constant chatter and the sound of his lute, the silence, once valued above all else, is too much.

It’s been months since the dragon, since Geralt lost both Yennefer and Jaskier in one fell swoop. He’s cursed himself many times over for the words he said—to both of them—and cursed himself more for the mistakes he made to get in this position in the first place.

this is the lot of witchers, to be alone.

Blood From the Mouth - Filled

I Got You | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos, TK & 126 Crew

“I’m just sayin’,” Judd says, waving his arms around. “Somebody’s gonna get themselves killed in there one of these days. I had to come out here three times last year because of some idiots who think they know better than the ‘Keep Out’ signs.”

The team are called to an abandoned house where some kids are trapped. Everything is going smoothly, which, naturally, means that it won't be that way for much longer.

Trapped in a Burning Building - Filled

a little unsteady | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

9-1-1, What's your emergency?

'Please, help! My house is on fire and my husband’s inside!'

t.k. sometimes wonders if the universe is out to get him

Worked Themselves to Exhaustion - Filled

In Your Arms | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos, Michelle & TK

T.K. and Carlos agreed when they started dating to check-in on each other that they were both okay. Reassurance that nothing bad had happened. So, when Carlos hasn't replied hours after his shift is supposed to have finished, T.K.'s definitely beginning to panic.

Locked in a Cage - Filled

running out of time | Shadowhunter Chronicles | Kit x Ty

When (if) they got out of here, Kit wanted the record to unequivocally state that this wasn’t his fault. Not that it was Ty's either, but it certainly wasn't Kit's.

kit and ty's first hunt together after three years goes wrong and they wind up trapped in a cage with no way out. naturally, this leads to a heartfelt conversation.

Demonic/Ghostly Possession - Filled

Haunting | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos, TK & Owen

T.K. is five when he first sees a ghost, though, of course, he doesn’t know that it’s a ghost. His name is Joey, and he lives in the playground, which T.K. thought was a little strange, but he doesn’t want to ask. Dad says it’s rude to ask questions like that to someone he’s just met.

Fingore - Filled

ease my mind | 911: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Briefly, Carlos considers calling TK and telling him about the accident. But… He only broke two of his fingers and it barely even classifies as a minor injury in his book, so there’s really no reason to bother his fiancé while he’s still on shift himself. He pockets his phone then looks around to figure out where the exit is.

Only, an all-too familiar laugh distracts him from his task, drawing his attention to the nurses station.

Where TK is standing, smiling as a nurse swats at him for stealing one of their lollipops.

Carlos is, beyond doubt, fucked.

Verbal Abuse - Filled

this is a song about somebody else | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos, TK & Marjan

TK doesn't notice the 126's latest visitor until it's too late. He freezes as Alex smiles at him, knocked off balance by this sudden intrusion of his old life into his new one.

alex vists tk at the 126. luckily, tk has his family to help him through it.

tw: abusive language

Dying in Their Arms - Filled

can you hear me screaming (please don’t leave me) | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

As a cop, Carlos has to deal with all kinds of cases, and not all of them end well. But never in his life did he imagine that he'd have to respond to an incident involving his own boyfriend.

tw: major character death

Blindfolded - Filled

find you here inside the dark | Doctor Who | Thirteen x Yaz

Yaz has walked this room too many times to count now; she’s traced her fingertips over the walls, searching for any cracks or crevices to indicate where there might be a door.

If the Doctor were here, she’d have her sonic out by now, spitting out words, only half of which Yaz could understand. She’d find a way out in no time. Or, if not, at least she’d be here. Talking a mile a minute, probably annoying the hell out of their captors. Yaz can almost hear her now—

Wait.

She can hear her now.

Water Torture - Filled

soggy clothes and breezeblocks | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Carlos wakes up slowly. He cracks his eyes open, wincing at the pounding in his head. He lifts his hand to massage the pain away, only to discover that his hand won't move, the cool metal of handcuffs biting viciously into his wrist.

After an undercover mission goes wrong, Carlos is forced to fight for his life. And to make matters worse, his kidnappers are making sure that T.K. is watching the entire thing.

tw: torture

Fighting from the Inside - Filled

and curse the gods | BBC Atlantis | Jason & Medusa

Jason knows what it is to be cursed.

Slammed into a Wall - Filled

mind over matter (matter over mind) | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos, TK & Owen

After a night out goes wrong, TK and Carlos are left to deal with the consequences.

tw: homophobia, hate crimes, hiding an injury

Suicide Attempt - Filled

be done with this now | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Once upon a time, Carlos had thought that watching as his almost-boyfriend was whisked off in an ambulance, bullet wound in his chest, would be the worst moment of his life. Then TK had been kidnapped, and Carlos had spent hours not knowing where he was, if he was alive or dead, and he thought - this is it. Nothing can top this.

But, having to perform CPR on his husband, having to hold him as he slipped away in his arms?

That was worse than even his nightmares.

tw: suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, depression, drug abuse, overdosing

Bleeding Through the Bandages - Filled

pull you in to feel your heartbeat | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

The call comes at the tail end of Carlos’s shift, and he instantly hates whichever idiot decided to ruin his night by mugging someone.

What he's not expecting is to find his boyfriend on the ground, bleeding out from a stab wound.

Arm in a Sling - Filled

have you been involved in an accident at work? | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK & 126 Crew, TK x Carlos

T.K. was on his way to the hospital. Again.

At least this time he could say with absolute certainty that it 100% wasn't his fault.

Self-Harm - Filled

but god i wanna feel again | 9-1-1: Lone Star | TK x Carlos

Carlos blames himself for not noticing. It's not like he had much choice in the matter; he hasn't seen T.K. all week, and his texts have been going unanswered, but he can't help but feel like it's partly his fault.

If only T.K. would actually talk about himself, instead of keeping it all in.

tw: self-harm

#bad things happen bingo #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #send me prompts!#masterlist

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komahinasecretexchange · 4 years

Text

Title: School Unity Club

Author: @thatsrightdollface

For: @bebexox4

Pairings/Characters: Hajime Hinata/Nagito Komaeda, with appearances by both Chiaki Nanami and Kokichi Oma. Others mentioned.

Rating/Warnings: T. Some mention of self-deprecating thought might be a relevant warning. There is also occasional swearing.

Prompt: Non despair hopes peak au with Enemies-Friends-Lovers komahina

Author’s notes: Hi there!!! Happy Komahina Secret Exchange, and I hope you enjoy your gifts!!! :D This is prompt one of two you can expect this time around. This was really fun to work on hehehe. Thank you!!!

1. Okay, Why Are We Starting a School Unity Club Again?

The first time Hope’s Peak Academy tried to recruit Nagito Komaeda, of course he turned them down: he was unworthy, he insisted, trying to laugh at himself, trying to raise his metaphorical palms in obvious surrender. I mean, come on. Hope’s Peak… haha, that was for genuinely amazing people. For the Ultimate Students, glimmering irrefutable beacons of hope to everybody else. They were — no. Nagito couldn’t go to school with people like that. Practically superheroes, so hardworking and disciplined and just everything Nagito knew he didn’t deserve to be. What would he even say? How would he know where to sit, or when to participate in class discussions, or how to tactfully say no when they felt obligated to invite him along places?

But, in the end, Hope’s Peak Academy hadn’t so much wanted Nagito as a student, he gathered, as they’d wanted to study his luck. Nagito’d always had unreasonable, relentless, mythically impossible luck. Amazing things happened to him, and then… like clockwork, like the gears of the universe churning away… equally devastating things inevitably followed. The Ultimate Lucky Student. That’s right. After years of fallen-apart loved ones and distant extended family members and snakes slithering out of his bathtub drain the second he realized “You know, I think this might be my favorite brand of shampoo,” Nagito Komaeda’s absurd luck was finally going to help somebody. Hope’s Peak could learn from his luck, and that was worth humiliating himself daily, stumbling around Ultimate Students, rambling and awestruck. That was worth knowing he’d never belong, because he hadn’t worked for his Talent. It wasn’t really a Talent at all.

When Nagito was happy, he knew he was sure to feel tears burning against the back of his eyes very soon. He was happy about the chance to attend Hope’s Peak, despite everything, despite knowing he should have turned the invitation down again, whether his luck could be useful or no… and so, of course, bad things followed. Bad things he hadn’t talked to his classmates about, yet, and probably never would. Because it wasn’t like Nagito had come to such a prestigious institution expecting anybody to actually care about him. It wasn’t like he would have clawed his way in without being invited. Right?

Nagito liked to think that was right, anyway, just the way he liked to think he didn’t actually want any of his fancy, impossible new classmates to contradict him when he described himself as worthless, a faceless background character in their lives. Why should they tell him he was more than a bystander? Nagito would hold the camera when his classmates wanted a group photo. That should be more than enough. If he wanted to get something done for their sake, he could lean on his Ultimate Luck. If he drew a lottery number, it would always win. If a car was careening out of control through the school grounds, it would be sure to hit him before it clobbered anyone else. A weird system — a horrible system, from some points of view — but it was the least Nagito could do. It was his so-called “Talent,” after all.

Maybe that was why the Reserve Course had never made a lot of sense, to Nagito. See, some people could pay a hell of a lot of extra tuition money and buy their way into Hope’s Peak… but not as Ultimates. It felt like a flashlight demanding to be called the sun, to Nagito. Like a puddle on the street insisting it was the ocean. If Ultimates really were “hope,” then how dare anybody scramble around to grab their spotlight away, right? Reserve Course attendants would probably be easier to get along with than the Ultimate Students, given that Nagito was more or less “one of them”… a nobody, a stranger, an intruder here in this place for gods. But he didn’t go looking for friends among the Reserve Course, either. Why should he want to be buddy-buddy with arrogant pretenders? It wasn’t like Nagito had ever felt especially good at talking to people, anyway. He’d probably say something wrong; he’d probably mess something up; he’d probably just get furious. Wouldn’t you want to turn off the flashlight that thought it was the sun?

Better not to delude yourself, even if the truth was ugly, full of shaky, simpering smiles and resignation. Happiness led to pain. Good luck led to misery. On and on and on, and Nagito had been fairly sure he’d graduate from Hope’s Peak without any of his classmates having memorized his full name. You know, if he lived that long.

That’s why it was all the more surprising when Chiaki Nanami… the Ultimate Gamer… kept insisting on talking to him. Of course, Chiaki was kind to their whole class. She had no reason to sit silently and play phone games with Nagito until his phone caught fire in his hands — she had no reason to chat about his favorite super-indie horror titles during breaks in schoolwork, coming over to stand by his desk on purpose. Chiaki wanted to understand everybody: she told Nagito as much, honestly. Chiaki wanted their whole class to be a team, and so when she asked Nagito to show up for movie nights he did. He knew he’d suffer the bad luck for it later, but he picked up the phone when Chiaki called him every time.

If she wanted to be friends with everyone, Chiaki shouldn’t have to work for the Ultimate Lucky Student’s friendship, obviously. He should be a shoe-in. And it wasn’t really that Nagito was having fun that kept him sticking around, probably. It wasn’t really that he was starting to banter with the Ultimate Mechanic and the Ultimate Gangster, as if they were actually… uh… friendly acquaintances, or something, either. Chiaki told him he was reliable, even if he still wouldn’t admit he belonged with the rest of them. Even if he said hurtful things sometimes and didn’t seem to realize it.

“What?!” Nagito had balked, then. “Have I insulted you? Oh, no. No, that’s unacceptable. For someone like me to speak badly of an Ultimate Student, even without meaning to —”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Chiaki had answered. She reminded Nagito of a cat, pretty consistently… heavy-lidded eyes, and a voice like a tail swishing slowly back and forth. She didn’t look up from the game system in her hands as she drawled at him. “You say horrible things about yourself, and about how you can’t understand why I’d want anything to do with you… makes me feel like you don’t think I can pick my own friends. I say I think you’re okay, and you spend the next half an hour telling me why that’s a stupid thing to think. Kazuichi says he’s glad you stopped by to help him work on that robot project he’s building, and you have to make him apologize for thinking ‘trash like you’ deserves to hang out with the Ultimate Mechanic at all.”

Nagito wasn’t sure how to respond to any of that. He’d cleared his throat.

“Your friends will hurt when they see you hurt, Nagito. I always heard people in games saying that, and now I know it’s true. Okay?”

“Hm. Okay… if you’re sure, as an Ultimate Student.”

“I’m sure as your friend Chiaki.”

“Interesting. I mean… yeah, I’ll do my best not to hurt you?”

Nagito had been watching the way he talked about himself around Chiaki Nanami for about a week before she came to him with a plan she’d been working on with the Ultimate Supreme Leader. Kokichi Oma was a couple years behind them, but he was always scheming like the “Spawn of Loki” the Ultimate Animal Breeder declared him to be — his latest plan involved trying to unite the two branches of their school, the Main Course and the Reserve Course, coming together for some sort of mysterious club. Chiaki was all for it, apparently, and Nagito had wanted to say a lot of things. He’d wanted to say it sounded like reassuring the puddle that ships could drown in it after all, and coral reefs were sure to grow. It felt false, and wrong. But a lot of things Kokichi Oma said felt “false and wrong,” and Nagito wanted to be Chiaki’s real, worthy friend so badly. He agreed to help, however he could.

“It’s so generous of the Ultimates to share their Talents with everybody!” Nagito said. That was a fair enough rationalization, wasn’t it? “You really are a commendable person, Ultimate Supreme Leader. Even if practically everything you say is a shameless lie!”

And, “Hey now, most of my nefarious criminal organization members wouldn’t be called ‘Ultimate,’ and they’ve got more talents to share around than this whole stuck-up school,” Kokichi answered, voice light and airy, like he wasn’t actually invested in the conversation… though his eyes said he really was, unless that expression was just another lie from him? Lies upon lies upon lies. People told Nagito he was confusing to talk to, but surely he couldn’t have anything on Kokichi Oma. Was that okay for him to think? “A lot of these titles we got assigned feel pretty arbitrary, if you ask me. And it’s ridiculous we’ve never actually met so many of our classmates!”

Nagito raised his eyebrows. “Classmates?”

Kokichi stared him down, smile practically painted on. “Classmates. Yeah. Just think of how many possible recruits for my organization might be waiting in the Reserve Course… ya think any of ‘em are interested in a life of evil?”

“Most of the people who made the games we play aren’t Ultimates, either,” Chiaki murmured, at Kokichi’s side. She was muted and dusky pink, with a tender, hesitant smile — Kokichi was so glaringly bright and loud next to her. They made a strange team, but of course no stranger than Nagito and anyone in the world. “Please, Nagito. The School Unity Club is going to try and form real friendships… I think it’s a chance for us to do something good, and to learn what it’s like to be in the Reserve Course.“

As if Nagito wanted to understand something like that! Haha! Oh, Chiaki. No.

But that’s what led Nagito here, to the first official School Unity Club meeting. He filled out the Getting to Know Everybody Questionnaire Kokichi and Chiaki passed out, and he hung around in the back of the room, hands folded in his pockets, face perfectly neutral, until a spiky haired Reserve Course guy came storming up to him. What could have possibly gotten this uppity loser so mad? Chiaki had decorated this classroom herself, specifically for trash like the both of them. They should be so grateful. There were streamers and everything.

“Are you Nagito Komaeda?” Mr. Pointy-Hair spat.

“I am. Nice to meet —”

“So you’re the one who wrote that people who joined the Reserve Course have ‘no good reason to be here’ on the questionnaire. Knowing we’d all read it — knowing how much we want to attend Hope’s Peak Academy —”

Nagito nodded, letting himself smile. Ah, okay. This was making a little sense now. “Excuse me, I think you misunderstand something,” he tried to clarify. “I don’t believe I have a good reason to be here, either… really, we’re almost the same, you and me. I probably have more to say to someone like you than my whole class!” Nagito paused. Glanced over at the Ultimate Gamer. “Except for Chiaki. Maybe. If she still thinks so.”

Mr. Pointy-Hair didn’t look reassured by Nagito’s explanation. If anything, his cheeks were flushed red, the fury creeping up to the tips of his ears, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides. He was a little shorter than Nagito, but he was standing as tall as he possibly could. “Someone like me?” he asked. It was a question, somehow, but what exactly did he expect Nagito to say? Mr. Pointy-Hair’s teeth were ground together, but there was something honest and wholesome about his mossy green eyes. Nagito might have wanted to ask his name, if he didn’t feel sure he was about to get yelled at. Why weren’t they understanding each other, exactly, here?

“You’re not an Ultimate,” Nagito said, explaining something painfully simple. “This is a school for extraordinary people, and you and I are both unworthy of it. You see? But that shouldn’t be news to you…”

Mr. Pointy-Hair was spitting mad. Was he going to punch Nagito, next? Or simply tell him how awful he was? Nagito was bracing himself either way, but he shouldn’t have bothered. That was when Kokichi Oma’s spotlight found them, after all. That was when the Ultimate Supreme Leader — sauntering around on a stage made of pushed-together desks and using a super-chipper ringmaster voice — declared, “Oh! And what’s this? Mr. Komaeda and Mr. Hinata are already picking a fight! I think we just found some volunteers for a club project, guys!”

There was a scattering of polite, confused applause, and this Mr. Pointy-Hair Hinata spun around on his heel and threw himself out of the room. The door slammed, and his footsteps thudded away down the hall.

Nagito took a stumbling half-step after him. He didn’t mean to. This was the sort of pretender who thought he deserved to be an Ultimate without earning it, after all. There was no reason to wonder what their club project would be together, or if he’d ever learn Hinata’s first name. There was no reason to ask what the Ultimate Supreme Leader had in store for them to work on — there was probably no reason to assume he and Hinata would ever see each other again, or get another chance to try and have an actual conversation.

Nagito asked Kokichi what their assignment was, anyway.

1½. Talking to You’s Like Trying to Paint in the Rain

Hajime Hinata figured if he just never attended a School Unity Club meeting again, he could simmer for a while and then amble on like this never happened. Like he’d never met Nagito Komaeda, with his hazy dark eyes and drifting, shaky-yet-infuriatingly-resolute voice. If he never joined up with the club again, then he couldn’t be assigned any weird-ass “club projects,” could he? And since Nagito was part of the Main Course… an Ultimate, even if he’d tried to convince Hajime they were “the same,” or whatever… their paths wouldn’t necessarily cross, otherwise. They even had passing periods at different times, and if Hajime saw Nagito’s fluffy, flyaway white hair from across the hallway he just stopped in his tracks and stalked away.

But, I mean… that isn’t the end of the story, obviously. Hajime underestimated the Ultimate Supreme Leader, and also how ridiculous things could get at Hope’s Peak Academy. Sometimes, the place barely even felt real.

Hajime received the instructions for his and Nagito Komaeda’s club project midway through math class. The guy in front of him — who he’d known the whole year, mind you, and was definitely just some guy who liked comic books and was often a little late to class — turned around in his seat and stage-whispered, “Hey, Hinata, you wouldn’t happen to know the answer to question thirteen, would you?”

“There is no question thirteen,” Hajime answered. “The worksheet only goes to ten —” and then he actually looked up, to raise his eyebrows at his classmate and/or see if they had different worksheets for some reason. And well. Hm. Wouldn’t you know it, this wasn’t his classmate at all. This was very obviously Kokichi Oma from the Main Course in a wig. The Ultimate Supreme Leader was wearing a Reserve Course uniform with the tie knotted all sloppily, and he grinned like the damn Cheshire Cat as he handed over a big envelope with the words “This is not your School Unity Club project assignment!” scribbled on it.

“Oh! Nice eye,” Kokichi grinned. “Aren’t you a smart one.”

“I don’t want to work with Nagito Komaeda,” Hajime hissed. “And Kokichi, this isn’t your class.”

“Are you sure I’m not enrolled in the Reserve Course, too?”

“Ugh. Yes? And you’re two years behind me.”

Kokichi scratched at his forehead. Hajime thought maybe he was taunting him, intentionally fiddling with his wig so that a little of his flippy purple hair snuck out. “Nagito’s stubborn, isn’t he? Kind of like you.”

“We’re nothing alike,” Hajime said, but even as he spat those words he knew they weren’t completely true. Honestly, Hajime felt sick with guilt for getting his family to pay this ridiculous Hope’s Peak Reserve Course tuition — he’d tried to change his own mind, convincing himself it didn’t matter whether the world called him Special. The Ultimate Students were just people, he told himself. So what if nobody thought he was good enough to be one of them? He could still live a happy, normal life… he could still pour attention into the hobbies he loved, and spend time with the people he cared about, and maybe it was kind of a pain to have your face on convenience store magazines anyway.

Hajime told himself stuff like that over and over again, but it wasn’t like it stuck, you know? It didn’t change the tide of his thoughts. It felt like the minute he painted a nice, encouraging picture of an alternative to Hope’s Peak Academy for himself, it got washed away. Staring into Nagito’s serene, self-righteously knowing eyes had felt a little like that, too. Hajime got the feeling that he could talk to him and talk to him, but it was almost impossible to change this guy’s mind until he changed it himself.

It was infuriating, wasn’t it, talking to people like that?

“If you want to prove you’re really different than Nagito — you’re really not super-stubborn and impossible to reach — you can always just do the project,” the Ultimate Supreme Leader grinned. “Up to you. I told him to meet you by those big fountains after school, and I think he’s actually gonna do it. He asked what your first name was, too… I told him it was ‘Daisuke.’”

“But it isn’t.”

“Oops, my bad. So tell him yourself.”

Hajime read the crayon-drawing assignment sheets waiting for him in that envelope during a break, sitting slumped over at a table with a bunch of students he didn’t really know. Apparently, Kokichi and the Ultimate Gamer wanted Hajime and Nagito to make a short documentary film showing everybody what life was like in the Hope’s Peak Reserve Course. They were supposed to interview students and get some funny stories; they were supposed to go over some of the things people were studying, and rate whether the desks were comfy. Just… get a portrait of the Reserve Course as people, basically, the instructions said. And be sure to let the Ultimate Supreme Leader know if anyone seemed open to helping with this prank he had in the works. Get them to sign a short, totally-harmless liability form. It’ll be fun.

Hajime crumpled the envelope and all its assignment sheets up, one by one, preparing to toss them away with the rest of his trash. But then he unfolded them, running a hand through his sticky-uppy hair.

You know what?

Why not.

Maybe it would do Nagito Komaeda some good, to get to know the people he was insulting. To see the school from a different point of view. Maybe it would be satisfying to see him feel like a jerk, fumbling around, trying oh-so-messily to explain himself to anybody a little less forgiving than Hajime. Anyway, it was sort of annoying the guy thought his name was something random Kokichi Oma had pulled out of a hat, too.

So Hajime went to meet Nagito by the fountains. For a moment, before they actually started working on the project, it had felt sort of right. Nagito had stood up from where he’d been bent over some homework; he’d smoothed down his vest, and smiled awkwardly, self-consciously. Hopefully. It had looked like maybe he would apologize. Maybe he’d thought over what he said, and Hajime didn’t need to spend any time convincing him he was an asshole. In that case, maybe Nagito was the kind of willowy handsome that Hajime liked in drama actors, if you got past the funny way he held himself. In that case, maybe his voice was sort of soft and lyrical, and if they were talking about something else… almost anything else… Hajime wouldn’t really mind listening to him.

But then, uh. Hajime got close enough for Nagito to wave, and call, “Do you understand what I meant, now, then? It’s nice to meet you properly, Daisuke!” And it only went downhill from there.

It didn’t help that the minute Hajime handed Nagito the school-owned camera Kokichi had finagled for them to use, it got carried out of his hands by an actual hawk. What the hell? “Ultimate Luck,” Nagito clarified, but what did that even mean? So then they were gonna record the thing on Hajime’s phone, except that they couldn’t decide where to start. Who to talk to. They got into a half-shouting match in front of a few of Hajime’s friendlier classmates, who excused themselves as quickly as possible. They tried to film the gymnasium, but it was closed for emergency fumigation and they ended up gagging, hunched over outside the doors for about five minutes. They tried to film in the dorms, but Hajime’s entrance pass cracked in two when they attempted to use it. Those were expensive! Augh! Why was Nagito laughing?!

Whatever Hajime tried to do, it felt like Nagito came sliding over to step on his toes. They were getting nowhere. This project was getting nowhere. They had to delete the one decent interview they managed to get because Hajime himself accidentally had his thumb over the camera. He had literally no idea how he could’ve missed something like that.

“Ultimate Luck,” Nagito said, again, for about the millionth time that evening. “See? It’s really not always much of a talent!”

That was the last straw. Hajime was done. Nagito was still obsessed with this concept of “talent”; Nagito was the last person who should be making a video trying to show what life was really like for Reserve Course students. The Ultimate Supreme Leader was probably just messing with them, just being a little shit like people said he tended to be. School Unity? What could Nagito Komaeda do to work towards School Unity? He was probably the sort of person who would want to trap a lizard that thought it was a dragon, just to show the poor little guy how small he really was. Hajime didn’t have time for this.

And so he told Nagito as much, and he gathered up his things. He deleted all the footage they’d recorded for their project, and went back home. That could’ve been the end of it. If Kokichi turned up in any of his classes again, Hajime would just tune him out. If the Ultimate Gamer asked him why he didn’t come around anymore, yeah, okay, he’d apologize, but that was it.

Hajime didn’t hear anything from the School Unity Club for about a month. “Good riddance,” he thought. He imagined himself slamming a book closed. And then possibly kicking said book under the bed, or something.

When he got a text from Kokichi Oma — wait, how had the Ultimate Supreme Leader gotten his phone number?! — Hajime almost didn’t open it. But morbid curiosity won out in the end, as it so often did. Morbid curiosity, and that claustrophobic, helplessly-stricken pull to the Ultimate Students Hajime still felt, even now. He had wanted to be valuable, to be seen; he had wanted to be a revelation. Every breath he took on this earth could have been game-changing, if only he’d been born someone else.

“Nice work on your video,” Kokichi said. “Turned out really insightful. I think it’ll help the Reserve Course students feel seen, too.”

Alright. Hold on.

What?

***

2. The Light

When Nagito Komaeda asked the Ultimate Supreme Leader whether it had been difficult, convincing Hajime to come watch his documentary about the Hope’s Peak Academy Reserve Course together, Kokichi said, “You just better not mess this up, kid,” with a big, sloppy wink. Nevermind that he really hadn’t answered the question, actually, when Nagito thought back on it – nevermind that Kokichi was… again… younger than him. Maybe it meant Hajime had struggled against the idea of ever actually talking to Nagito again, and Kokichi’d had to bribe him with glittery promises like, “If you give the video a chance, I’ll delete your phone number from my contacts list!” Or maybe it meant Nagito should feel lucky – lucky in a good way, mind you – because Hajime hadn’t needed a lot of nagging at all. Maybe Mr. Pointy-Hair was genuinely curious. Maybe he’d be willing to forgive how badly things had gone, and try, Nagito didn’t know, “hanging out” again, sometime.

“Why did you lie about Hajime’s name, to me?” Nagito asked. “I looked… inconsiderate.”

“Who knows?” Kokichi said. “I do stuff like that, you know.”

It would’ve been way too easy, if Kokichi Oma had been willing to answer a simple question for once. But all the same, Nagito ended up sitting alone in a dark, lonely classroom after club activities were over for the night; all the same, Nagito had finished up the Reserve Course documentary film on his own. He’d purchased four separate video cameras, and lost them all to his ruthless luck. He’d interviewed people from Hajime’s classes, asking the questions Hajime had scrawled out on the back of Kokichi’s crumpled-up assignment envelope that time they tried working together. “What brought you to the Reserve Course?” “What’s your most precious goal, and how do you hope the Reserve Course will help you get there?” “Do you like going to school here?” “What do you think Hope’s Peak could do differently, to show that it values all its students?” Some of the answers he’d gotten were genuinely shocking – one of them made him cry, actually, and try to shake the girl’s hand afterwards. (She took his hand, yes, but then asked why there was so much mud on it. Oh, crap. Nagito’d forgotten that happened… he’d been swallowed up by a surprise swamp on the way across campus that day.) All of the answers were… human? Maybe sometimes it was easy to get so wrapped up in this business of hope and despair, talent and luck, that Nagito forgot how learning a person’s abilities just barely scraped the surface of what it would be like getting to know them. He didn’t talk much at all, giving his interviews – aside from asking questions, of course. He laughed at jokes, sometimes, but he tried to laugh quietly, without wobbling the camera too much.

Nagito had expected the interviews would enrage him – would make him think these people were ungrateful, were building themselves homemade trophies to take away from the Ultimate Talents the Main Course actually earned. And sometimes, yeah, sometimes he did want to argue back. Put them in their places, back in the dirt with him; click off the flashlight that thought it was the sun. But he listened, for a while, anyway. Maybe it was because Hajime would’ve wanted him to, at first – maybe it was because Hajime might have said he couldn’t do it. But in the end, Nagito found himself with a lot of footage of people telling him their truths, and so many of those stories tasted familiar. That longing, that hurt, that want, that hunger. It had been written all over Hajime’s face when they first met, but Nagito’d never asked his story, had he?

Ah, well. Nagito had tried making the documentary into something Hajime wouldn’t hate, you know? He’d gone to one of the Reserve Course’s basketball games and recorded the crowds cheering, recorded the players’ teamwork and struggle. None of the players were the Ultimate Basketball Star or anything, but it still mattered when they won, didn’t it? Maybe not as much, existentially, or for the hope of the world as Nagito understood it, but – but it could still be emotional watching them come together and ruffle each other’s hair, afterwards, reminiscing about the game. Nagito had attempted to go to a Reserve Course swimming team competition too, but of course the pool flooded the second he stepped in the building… and like, really flooded, in that most of the bleachers were still underwater and they hadn’t been able to drain the dressing rooms, yet. Some sort of weird, constant flow in from ocean?! Nagito wasn’t sure on the specifics. Point being, he’d stopped attending sports events for a while, but he had asked Chiaki to record the Reserve Course’s musical production of Les Misérables so he could splice some of it into the documentary.

Nagito didn’t ask specific questions about Hajime Hinata while conducting his interviews, but he’d heard some stuff about him all the same. He was a good classmate, people said – a hard worker, soft-spoken, but he didn’t just sit back and take kindly to bullies. He was smart, but his handwriting was terrible, and he and Nagito seemed to like the same type of video games. Hajime’s classmates mentioned him in passing, see, discussing him among themselves… or they said, “Oh, no, Nagito’s probably okay. He was with Hajime a couple days ago, remember? Hey, Nagito, are you two friends?”

Um.

In that moment, Nagito had wanted very badly to say yes, yes they were friends. He would’ve been proud to have Hajime like him, as a person, the way Chiaki seemed to. But he just sort of smiled and shook his head. “We were working on a project together,” he offered. “School Unity Club.” It was probably fair to leave it at that, right?

But now the documentary was finished, and Hajime had been persuaded… somehow… to come to some empty classroom after School Unity Club let out and watch it at Nagito’s side. Nagito hadn’t really felt like he should be going to School Unity Club meetings lately: it was surreal to be back here again, inviting Hajime into the ruins of a game tournament. There was a scribbly, multi-color scoreboard, and bits of the floor were duct-taped off into what looked like a beanbag chair/slime vat obstacle course. The janitors at Hope’s Peak must have hated Kokichi Oma. Or who knows, really? Maybe he was planning to slink back in and clean all this up himself, after Nagito and Hajime finished with their video. Nagito showed Hajime over to some chairs he’d set up in front of his cracked-apart personal laptop. He pulled out Hajime’s chair a little bit, like they were someplace fancy, and Hajime scoffed. He sat down, though. And then he gestured to Nagito’s chair, like, “Well?”

They watched the documentary in silence. Sometimes Hajime shifted, or scratched at his neck. Sometimes he gasped, or shot Nagito careful, considering eyes. Nagito… for his part… tried his best to keep his expression neutral, the same as he’d done at that first School Unity Club meeting. The last interview was with himself, after all, and he thought he’d made his own points pretty clear. He didn’t understand what the Reserve Course meant, in connection to the Main Course here at Hope’s Peak Academy… on one hand he still thought it defied the point of the whole place, but on the other it was a class full of creativity and excitement and hope for the future, too. He’d learned a lot from the Reserve Course students, and it had been fun spending time with them. The interview questions had been written by Hajime Hinata, but they’d honestly become Nagito’s questions too, by the end. He thanked the viewer for watching, and the interviewees for talking to him, and the swimming team for their forgiveness when he tried to explain that it was his weird luck that ruined their tournament.

It wasn’t perfect. Nagito stumbled over his words, sometimes, and he contradicted himself, and he went on a short monologue about how it was possible hope came in innumerable different forms. He hinted at one of his most embarrassing thoughts, too – that maybe… just maybe, possibly, against all odds… it might’ve been more merciful to have a world without the worship of talent, a world where all people could just live as themselves and know that was enough. He had almost edited that part out. In another life, he probably wouldn’t have wanted anyone in the world to hear it. It flew in the face of everything he was supposed to honor, after all. It was skeptical of the very concept of the Ultimate Talents themselves.

Nagito might not have been able to explain exactly why he kept that part of his own interview in the documentary. Maybe he wanted Hajime to get him, if they ever spoke again. Maybe so many strangers had been utterly, vulnerably honest with him, he felt like it was sort of his turn. Either way, he winced, taking in the frustrated surrender on his own recorded face. He kept his arms folded over his chest and gritted his teeth. Hajime was watching him imagine a world where all that mattered was the light, whether it came from a flashlight or the sun. For all Nagito knew, he sounded ridiculous.

“That wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be,” Hajime said, slowly, after the credits rolled – Chiaki was thanked for most things Nagito hadn’t attributed to either himself or the conspicuously-absent Hajime Hinata. “Thanks, Nagito. You… are you going to the next club meeting?”

“What? Am I…?”

“I mean the School Unity Club. If you go to the next meeting, I’ll come too.”

Nagito swallowed, fidgeting. He brushed a little messy white hair behind his ear. “Yeah. Yeah, absolutely.” He decided to push his luck, just a little, then, seeing Hajime smile: he decided to try and make this raw, beautiful person that hated him laugh. “Maybe Kokichi’ll stop pestering me if I finally participate.”

Hajime snorted. He relaxed, just the littlest bit, and Nagito felt his insides twist. That was an unfamiliar feeling.

“Probably not,” Hajime said.

“No… probably not.”

That couldn’t have been part of the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s secret conniving plan, though, right? To get them to bond over mutual frustration… to pester them both until they started commiserating about it…

Right?

But then, maybe Nagito shouldn’t put it past him. Kokichi’d earned his Ultimate Student-status somehow. Maybe he and Chiaki hadn’t been completely wrong about a School Unity Club, either.

Well, now… they’d just played right into the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s hands, hadn’t they?

That didn’t matter too much, somehow, when Hajime was taking Nagito out to arcades with his other friends, and on hikes in the forest, and to read quietly on a bench in the park. Sun on their skin, wind in their hair, ruffling the pages of their books just the littlest bit… or else grabbing Nagito’s book away and hurtling it out horrifyingly fast into oncoming traffic. Or maybe it was the first book Hajime got him as a gift that would get stolen by a randomly-appearing hawk, this time? At least now Hajime knew Nagito usually laughed that desperate, rattling sort of cackle when he was upset. Nervous. Panicking. At least now Hajime would rub his back, a little, and tell him they were fine. Hey, hey. Nagito, look at me. Your luck isn’t your fault. Just breathe.

Breathe.

No, falling for the Ultimate Supreme Leader’s machinations barely mattered at all, this time.

2 ½. So Glad I was Wrong About You

The first time Hajime Hinata kissed Nagito Komaeda, he hadn’t been expecting to do it, himself, if you’d asked him just five minutes before. They were doing homework together, and the year was almost over – Nagito had asked Hajime to come to the Main Course Graduation Ball with him, as friends, of course, and high school was winding down to an end for both of them. Hajime had just worked weekend shifts at a thrift store to buy himself a set of four-leaf clover cufflinks to wear with his suit, small and gold and hopefully not the sort of thing Nagito would think was tacky. They were… Hajime hadn’t known what they were, exactly, until he found himself watching the way Nagito talked with his hands, staring off into the distance, swept away in what they were discussing. He remembered something their mutual friend Chiaki Nanami, the Ultimate Gamer, had said a few weeks before:

“I don’t think Nagito’s gonna ask you to go to the ball as his date-date. But if he does, be nice.”

Hajime hadn’t pressed Chiaki on that, for some reason. He’d been a little distracted by how she was completely annihilating him in the game they were playing. Why hadn’t he… dammit, why hadn’t he really heard her, then? If Nagito asked him out, like… as a boyfriend… Hajime was supposed to treat him gently. Maybe Chiaki thought Hajime would’ve wanted to say no, to an invitation like that? It was hard to say. Her expression had been all dusty lavender, vague and soft, watching her character defeat Hajime’s so, so mercilessly. The game had been reflected in her eyes, neon and flickering and fast.

But maybe… maybe what Chiaki said had meant more than just some run-of-the-mill politeness advice. It could have meant Nagito’d told Chiaki he was interested in taking Hajime as his date-date, but had backed away squirming from the idea because he was still getting over the concept that he was somehow fundamentally broken. Maybe he didn’t realize Hajime had bought those four-leaf clover cufflinks like a promise, because he didn’t want this Graduation Ball to be the last chance he got to wear them. To be fair, Hajime had only just realized that, himself. Who else was he gonna wear four-leaf clovers for, if not the Ultimate Lucky Student? He’d gotten to know Nagito’s luck extremely well, over the last year together; he knew which scars he tended to keep hidden, because he hated explaining their backstories, and he had watched Nagito’s closing monologue from that Reserve Course documentary over and over in the dead of night. Trying to understand it. Trying to understand this impossible, contrary guy who had just helped him edit his last Japanese Literature essay of the semester.

Hajime had kept telling himself he was done with Nagito Komaeda – for weeks, he’d told himself that. It felt like such a waste, now. They were both growing beyond Hope’s Peak Academy, in their ways, even though obviously there had been a time when Hajime would’ve told you that was impossible. He hadn’t thought he could imagine himself a meaningful future without some link to Ultimate Talent, without this school, whatever exactly it was, but the possibilities had started painting themselves to life without him really noticing it. The change crept in so sweetly, somewhere between the Ultimate Supreme Leader dragging the whole School Unity Club into participating in the next academy-wide musical and that time they’d all gotten lost in the mountains and Hajime found himself spreading his coat out over Nagito while he slept. Living had changed things, brought meaning where none had been assigned by fancy academy board members. When Hajime learned about the Izuru Kamukura Project – a study that had apparently endowed some random Reserve Course student with all the Ultimate Talents under the sun – he was jealous, yeah, but not the way he felt he should have been.

Hajime leaned across the desk and took Nagito’s face in his hands; he kissed him fast and hard, before he could change his mind. Kissed him like he’d yelled his actual first name in his face. Kissed him like truth, and the revelation he’d always thought maybe he could be, if only, if only, if only. He felt Nagito tense and then soften; he felt Nagito try to speak, and then close his eyes, pale lashes brushing against his skin. Hajime ran his hand down Nagito’s neck, and tangled it just a little in his unbrushed hair. Nagito made a wondering, helpless sound, and Hajime held him closer. Pulled back. Kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Nagito said. Hajime didn’t think he knew what for. Maybe he was still sorry for saying he didn’t think Hajime had any reason to come to this school and that whole tangled-up, confusing introduction they’d had; maybe he was just worried he’d turned out to be a disappointing kisser. Somewhere out in the hallway, Kokichi Oma was laughing, calling, “You’ll never take me alive!” to someone chasing him with a mysteriously bedazzled mop. Somewhere out in the hallway, Izuru Kamukura – Reserve Course student-turned living god – was staring out at the world and realizing it was all immeasurably, heartbreakingly boring, when all the talent possible was limp in his hands.

“Why?” Hajime asked.

“Um,” Nagito said. There were so many words churning inside him, but he was holding Hajime’s hand really tightly, now. He cleared his throat. “I mean, we can try that again, if you want. If I did it wrong.”

Hajime and Nagito were both strong believers in second chances, by that point. They went to the Main Course Graduation Ball with Nagito holding Hajime’s hand just as tight, and no, that absolutely wasn’t the last chance Hajime had to wear those four-leaf clover cufflinks.

#komahina #komahina secret exchange #fanfiction

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