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bandaigaeru · 4 years ago

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summer love - lee minho

→genre: vacation au, strangers to lovers, a teeny bit of angst →synopsis: lee minho had randomly appeared on your vacation to a lake/campground. he was everywhere, until he wasn't. →word count: 11.1k →pairing: minho x fem. reader (featuring yeji and yuna (itzy) & BooSeokSoon + mingyu (seventeen))

Sunlight breaks past the slightly tinted window, crossing your eyes in a swift blinding act. You blink away, turning back into the busy car. The boy driving waves a dismissive hand back at the whining boy behind him.

"We're not stopping for coffee," the driver asserts, eyes drifting up to the rearview mirror as he shifts into the exit lane.

"Why not?" the boy behind him counters. "We're gonna pass it anyway."

"We're going camping," the girl beside you leans forward to smack her palm against the boy's shoulder.

"It's not really camping if we're gonna be in a house," he pouts, turning back to her. He even shoots a pleading gaze in your direction, as if you would have any power over this conversation with people you've briefly met.

You glance back to the blurred trees. They pass in what feels like hundreds every time you blink. Why does this have to be the last summer of freedom? Why can't time just slow down and allow you a final year of peace? An almost taunting desire to live adventurously strikes your mind. Yet even so, you're not sure you should have accepted this "camping" offer.

Yeji was certain this summer would be legendary, gripping at your shirt sleeve as she pleaded, "But please, come with. I don't think I can live with Soonyoung and Seungkwan for two weeks."

So you succumbed. Only with the faint certainty that something must come from this. Even if it was only a mundane, fleshy scar from a messy jump into the lake. You could picture a rock piercing your skin before you flinched up to water, threads of blood coursing behind you.

God, you need to live a little.

"Y/N," Yeji whines, dragging your mind back into the car.

You hum, looking over to her. Her sunglasses sat delicately on the tip of her nose, tempting to fall at the slightest twitch downward.

"Tell Seungkwan to stop his coffee cries."

"I just met the guy," you whisper, shooting a cautious glance at the pouting boy. His knees are drawn to his chest as he tempts his focus with a YouTube video.

"But you're intimidating," her lips are pursed when you return to her.

You fight a laugh. "That's a funny one."

Yuna, somehow tricked to sit in the trunk of the minivan, leans over the seat. "You are kinda scary."

They lead a powerpoint that must have been established prior to this conversation, for the specifications seem a little too clear. By the end of it, you simply shake your head. Intimidating is a strong word. You are simply quiet, you tell yourself.

The campsite is a desolate piece on the outskirts of a fancy city known for its grand skyscrapers and business opportunities. Columnar trees line a restricted area, where animals freely prance, protected by the idea of hunting. There are trails, the ranger told them when they checked in, that led to varying sights. A broad lake glitters beneath the humid sun. On top of that, clouds string themselves in sparse bursts.

At the cabin, Soonyoung and Seokmin bustle for the room with the best view.

"Hey," Yuna scolds, lugging her overfilled duffel bag on her shoulder, "Shouldn't you let the women choose first?"

For a quick moment, their eyes scan each other's faces before unisonly shaking their heads. "No."

You slip passed their noses into a barren room. White curtains inwardly swing from the impatient breeze. A deep breath parts from your lips as your eyes fall to the dark hardwood. Two weeks, you tell yourself. That's not too bad.

Deep laughter seeps from outside, sending an awakening jolt down to your feet. You lean towards the window, spotting a few boys on the lake's shore. One is chasing another with the claws of an angry crab.

"Get away from me!"

"This is karma," the other calls, kicking up lofts of sand in his wake.

In awe, you stare as the slightly shorter man catches up with the taller. Maybe two weeks will be more difficult than you thought.

ii.

A routine falls into place within the first few days. You awake before the crowd and sit on the dock for an hour. Maybe a little more, depending on the breeze. Then, you return to the cabin and sit on the porch swing, gently swinging your feet. Mingyu slips out into the humid air shortly after, his sweatpants bunched up by his ankles from sleeping.

"Do you wanna go swimming with us?" he will ask.

Your heart momentarily flutters before it dims to a burdening mass. "Maybe tomorrow."

He asks if you are sure, though he knows you will give the same nod, lips pressed into a polite smile.

You take to spending days alone, watching the clouds travel hastily across the blue sky and discreetly viewing the boys next door wreak havoc. It's calming, you remind yourself when you get the urge to accept Mingyu's offer, to be alone.

Each of your temporary roommates slips from the cabin in duos or trios. Soonyoung likes to rest an arm around whoever he's with, you notice, as though he's scared of losing them to an imaginary void. He always shoots you a smile before disappearing to wherever that day's activities bring.

On the fifth day, Yuna and Seokmin disappear on a hike with a whining Seungkwan on their tail. "It's so hot out here," he mutters as he passes you on the swing. Soonyoung and Mingyu rush to the water, shouting something about beating the mischievous boys in the cabin beside yours. Hair tied into a ponytail, Yeji steps onto the porch. She cups a 24-hour cooling bottle, taking sparing sips.

"Let's go to the lake," she sighs, sitting next to you. The teal outdoor pillows stutter beneath her weight before conforming to her shape.

You glance at her, though she doesn't turn to you. She speaks as though it's an order, not an offer.

Disturbed by your silence, she pushes, "C'mon, we've barely hung out at all. You're all solitude. We don't have to swim or anything. We can just sit on the sand."

A bitter sigh escapes your lips before you dredge into the cabin. Yeji resembles a home in this pool of unfamiliar faces, and you feel as though you can't deny her this. You pull on a bathing suit, despite her settled tune saying you didn't have to swim, and tug a pair of shorts on.

By the time you return to her, a green beach towel slung over your arm, she sits with her sunglasses veiling her eyes. Her head is upturned, looking at the birch porch ceiling. You hesitate, concerned that she might have fallen asleep, when her head twitches toward you. "Ready?" she asks, gathering her cup.

You slug towards the lake, basking in the sun's warm rays. It's not as humid as you thought it might be. A small, shaky breeze brushes against your bare shoulders.

"How's rooming with Soonyoung?" you finally say.

She sighs. "Terrible. He snores like crazy. I'm starting to regret giving you the single."

You chuckle, "It could be worse."

"How?"

"You could share a room with Soonyoung and Seungkwan."

"Oh, God," she shivers, despite the heat beaming down.

Sand invades beneath the comfort of your toes. Scalding heat shoots up your ankle as you hesitantly step. Purchasing cheap flip-flops was probably a mistake.

"Dude, I will drown you right now," Mingyu shouts.

Yeji leads you closer to them, stopping when only a couple feet barricade you from the water. She lays out her towel before tugging on her shorts' button. You follow her lead. Thoughtless, you step towards the dock, abandoning your belongings on your towel. The dock is about ten feet long, though its width bares close to six feet.

The water sways with each swing of Soonyoung's arm. You take a seat at the edge, dangling your feet until they graze the water. It's cool in contrast to the blistering grains. Mingyu pushes Soonyoung's head underwater with a broad grin. Water bubbles to the surface from Soonyoung's parted lips.

Shouts garnish the calm breeze. You glance over your shoulder. Yeji is laying flush against her towel, her eyes closed as she calmly begs for a tan. Behind her, a few running boys approach, some shedding their tops as they run.

"Minho! Give me my phone back!" a boy whines. You note that he's the same one who was being chased by a threatening crab. And the one he calls to, he glares over his shoulder with a shake of the head, is the chaser.

Minho turns back to his objective of the water before abruptly turning right, dragging the follower down the shore. His menacing laughs glide through the air, sending a sharp chill down your spine.

Begrudgingly, the chaser catches him, prying his phone away. In the distance, he looks like he presses a palm against Minho's shoulder, pushing him back. Their voices do not travel, but Minho's smile caught in the glinting sun does. You turn back to the water, whose dark surface returns the view of your eyes.

"Minho!" a voice calls behind you. You fight the temptation to turn.

"What?" the boy, presumably Minho, calls back.

You drown out the voices by slipping off the dock, plunging beneath the surface of the water. When you resurface, you brush back hairs glued against your forehead. Soonyoung points to you, begging you for a game of Chicken.

"There's only three of us," you point out, a tempting smile teasing your lips.

Mingyu glances to land, disregarding the background hassle of boys playing foot volleyball. "Yeji!" he calls.

Disinterested, her head bobs up. She pushes down her sunglasses, revealing a peek at her irises.

"Play Chicken with us!"

You can hear her sigh of defeat, pushing herself up from her towel and dropping her sunglasses. She flinches beneath the water, hands reaching to either elbow as she rubs warmth into them.

You watch her intently, until a boy peeks into your view from over her shoulder. Minho is juggling a ball with his feet. A steely grin catches his lips as his friends cheer him on. "10, 11, 12!" they chant.

You plug your nose before dropping your head underwater. When you resurface, the ball is lying against the sand, the boy's shoulders slumped. Hidden behind the fake pout, his lips remain curled.

iii.

It's weird, the way that boy takes the throne in your thoughts. He is merely a stranger from afar, who sparingly shot a glance when Mingyu shouted to him. Something about owing him for the previous night's game. His eyes, sparkling beneath the blazing sun, had resembled the water. Glinting and dark, leaving you curious and needy for more. Your thoughts brace the view of his bare chest, beads of sweat dripping from his chin as he concentrates on juggling the ball.

You have to get out of your head, you conclude.

Before the sun rises on the seventh day, you're up and ready. A small bookbag is secured around your shoulders, the contents harboring copious amounts of water and a few granola bars. You glance around the cabin—at the small leather couch constituting the living room and the oak table whose legs have fraying wood, as though a dog had thought it was a bone—before you decide it's safe to depart.

Today's destination requires you to pass your parasite's cabin. You offer a short glance through the clear panes, refocusing on the gravel path when you catch a glimpse at a sleeping boy on the couch, face illuminated by his phone. It's not the boy who haunts you, you lamentably realize.

Splashes of rose and barely visible blue tarnish the sky in a messy gradient. You stop before the overhead greenery obstructs your view. In the edge of the sky, nearly fallen on the horizon, is the moon bidding its final goodbye. "Take care," it says with a sulking wave, "I'm just past the wall."

Under the blistering glimpses of heat through the leaves, you admit that you're grateful to the shrouds of protection. Humidity snips at your skin, mimicking the crawl of an insect. You swipe at your neck, though nothing lies beneath your palm. Just the damp residue of sweat.

If someone had queried you on the matter a few months ago, you would argue that solo hiking is too dangerous to be denoted as fun. Now, within the gaze of harmless deer and the occasional rabbit, you chuckle. They peek out at you from rotting logs, blinking to each other as if to seek confirmation.

A tree twenty-or-so feet away sticks out among its comrades like a sore thumb. Lesions trail its stump, marking the initials of lovestruck couples.

"You turn left at the tree of love, you'll know which one," Yuna had distractedly instructed the night before, a melting ice cream cone dripping down her fingers.

Your footsteps drown out songbirds and assemble their own tune. Each crunch of a stick signifying a beat to your journey.

The path eventually fizzles into a sad patch of grass with a podium pegged into it. Okinawa Path, it reads. Marked in 1985 by James Okinawa. Dedicated to his wife, Jiyeon Okinawa.

The horizon is curved like a bubble when you look out onto it. Leaves sway with the breeze in mass, assembling a synchronous dance. You can see the faint blue of the lake, its color lightened in the distance. If you squint a little, you can see the small ant-like figures running along its shore. Resting your hands on the metal casing of the plaque, you lean over. In the gaps of trees, a straight fall. You sigh, taking a step back.

Your stomach grumbles. It only takes a moment of peace for your chest to plummet. All that remains in your bag is an array of wrappers, food long consumed, and water. You glance at your watch. 12:19. If you left now at a pace twice which you came, you might reach the cabin at three. Maybe four, depending on how the animal's eyes draw you.

You nod, taking a final glance at the foliage and red hummingbirds plucking into bark, before heading back.

iv.

The hike, though momentarily ridding your thoughts of the boy whose laugh cast goosebumps down your spine, is rendered useless when you see him on your way back. Stood at the lake's mouth, he stares onto the water. His friends are vacant, you note, as your gaze shoots around to corners they might hide. You don't notice your feet have forgotten their trail until a cat sniffs your shoes.

His fur is soft when you dip your fingers to scratch behind his ears. Large green eyes stare up at you, leaning into your touch. You tilt your head, mumbling, "Where's your collar, little guy?"

He purrs as he slowly allows his eyes to close. You look around, catching eyes on the boy at the shore. A glimpse of a smile nuzzles against his lips, leaving you to wonder what possibly brews inside his head.

Behind you, the sound of gravel crunching beneath shoes. You swing around, searching for their eyes. A boy gapes at you, apparently frightened by your sudden movement. Then, his wide eyes minimize when he sees the cat.

Your fingers still linger by his ears, though they stop movement. He leans up, brushing his chin against them. Trying to revive their life.

"Soonie?" he finally says, eyebrows furrowing. A deep line of confusion betrays the skin between them.

The cat meows, trotting to the boy. He leaves you in his dust, as though you hold no purpose now that you've halted the affection.

He gently picks up the cat, cradling him in his arms like a baby.

"He's yours?" you ask.

His eyes jump to you and he hastily shakes his head. "No. He's my friend's. He threatened that he wouldn't come if we didn't let him bring at least one of his cats."

You chuckle at the absurdity. "Really?"

He nods. "I'm Chan, by the way. I think we're in the cabin next to you."

With the assertion of his name, realization drowns over you. "Oh! Right! I knew you looked familiar," you laugh. "I'm Y/N."

"Nice to meet you," he smiles, a dimple emblazoning his cheek. His gaze draws to the shore, where one of his friends stands.

The cat paws at his chin, begging for his attention. He ignores it. Instead, he shouts, "Minho!"

When the boy turns to him, eyebrows raised in curiosity and lips pursed, he continues. "Your cat got out of the cabin!"

Minho allows his head to hang, a smile forming. He jogs up to you two, graciously accepting his child from the older. "At least I know you'll know to escape if you get catnapped," he whispers. Absently, he scratches beneath the cat's chin, travelling him into a blaze of content. He offers you a look, almost confused as to why you're here.

"This is Y/N," Chan intervenes, "She helped stop your cat."

Minho nods, lips parting in an acknowledging 'o.' He smiles. "Thank you. He wanders sometimes."

You nod. "No problem. He's cute."

"Takes after his owner," Minho jokes.

Chan rolls his eyes, smacking his shoulder. He turns to you, "He's Minho, by the way."

You fight the instinctive 'I know' to float from your tongue. In its place you glance back to your cabin, faintly imagining Seungkwan lighting the living room on fire because Soonyoung meandered a little too long. You turn back to them, "It was nice meeting you two, but I have to run."

They see you off with a wave, watching as you speed-walk to your cabin. Minho's eyes burn a hole in your tank top. Though, it feels like nothing in comparison to the blaze searing your chest.

Sleep fills the corners of your eyes like grains of sand. Incessant to remain as they are, tempting you into the peaceful bounds of sleep. The pillows didn't help. Pressing flush against your back, they mirror the puffs of clouds.

The shouts at the table, however, keeps you landlocked.

"Seungkwan!" Yuna screams after the crash of water splattering against the laminate.

"What?" he calls, his voice muffled by the bathroom door.

"Can you bring me a towel when you're done in there?"

"Why?" There's a dullness to his tone, and you picture him standing in the mirror and tuning his hair to its perfect shape.

"Because I may have spilled, like, all the water left from that jug," she returns quietly.

The door swings open, bouncing against the copper doorstop with a loud trill. You flinch, eyes shooting open. His head peeks around the corner at the puddle residing. His lips part to expel a distressed sigh and a hand flies up to scratch the back of his neck. A quick moment passes where he disappears into the bathroom and returns with two towels. Wordlessly, as though they are now in agreement, he hands her one before kneeling down and sopping up the mess.

You sit up on the couch, watching.

Seungkwan's gaze swivels back to you. He offers a small, pleading small—one you've become familiar with this past week. "Hey, Y/N." Like a younger sibling about to beg a pardon from the oldest.

"What do you need?"

"Can you run up to the Camper's Corner and get us another jug?"

Mingyu, the bearer of the keys to the minivan, has long disappeared for an impromptu fishing trip. The others, though wielding slumped gazes as they passed, followed him to the boat suddenly tied to the dock.

Yuna perks up, as though your thoughts are being broadcasted, "You can take my bike!"

Orange sky solemnly greets you when you step out from the porch. Discarded against the dark logs of the cabin is Yuna's white bike. Various stickers plaster the warm metal; some worn to nothing while others closely tug at life. When you pull at the handles and drag the hidden parts of the bike from an overgrown shrub, you notice that there is a small basket. You have to fight off the laugh that threatens you when you think of that five gallon container spilling over the small wire basket.

The leaves sing in a shaking chorus with the graces of the wind. A musk of burning firewood stings your nose. You glance to the sky at your right (where the actual tent campers stay) and see a gray plume of smoke. A lingering taste of s'mores catches your tongue. The only thing to allow the displacement of the idea is the small store whose blinding fluorescents slip out into the street.

Camper's Corner is a privately owned chain who strategically places their stores in campgrounds. Though, with the large, white metal sign bearing a small green tent, it screams out of touch. But, at least they had good prices. And a very wide variety of bug repellant (homemade!).

"Is this all?" the lady at the counter, mid 20s with a few piercings lining her ears, inquires.

You nod, straightening a bill before slipping it across the counter. She dispenses the change into the palm of your hand. That's all it takes to dismiss her to the distractions of her magazine.

The weight of five gallons was underestimated in your mind. It drags your shoulder uncomfortably to one side, and you know it'll only supplement the soreness you'll gain from the hike. You bring a hand to the metal bar at the door, though it swings open before you can meet it.

Surprised brown eyes cross yours. For a moment, the weight diminishes, and you feel nothing but the swirl of butterflies voyaging your stomach.

His weight shifts backwards as he steps out of your way, pulling you back to reality. You hurriedly step out of the store, mumbling your thanks.

You start for the bike propped against the bike rack before he calls out, "Hey, wait for me."

By the time your eyes have swiveled back to him, his spot is blank. Tarnished by the slow swing of the door coming shut.

The jug approaches the ground and you stretch, rotating your arm in apologetic circles. How did you let yourself agree to this? Why couldn't Seungkwan find you intimidating enough to not even dare ask?

The boy returns, a plastic bag dangling from his wrist. Your eyes mingle for a second before you lean to reobtain the jug. His hand darts past your hesitant fingers, claiming it effortlessly. He merely says, "You look like you're struggling."

You grab at the handles of the bike. "Something like that."

With only the sounds of footsteps and swooshing leaves, you watch the front wheel turn. Around and around. No true objective.

"Thank you, again," he finally says over the tunes of cicadas.

Too wide eyes find him, and he clarifies, "For finding my cat."

"Oh!" you exclaim. "No problem, really."

You glance down to the bag, whose contents peek back in splitting blinks through the hole at the top. "What's in the bag?" you inquire.

His voice is drunken with the subtle hint of a laugh as he answers, "Soju. For Mingyu."

"Did he guilt you into buying him some?"

His head tips to one side. "Kinda. I lost a game."

You feel nosy digging, though you cannot find the will to stop. "What game?"

"Twister."

The thought of this boy, limbs contorted into painful tugs, draws a giggle to the air. "How bad did you lose?" you find yourself asking.

He exchanges the jug into the hand with the bag, quickly drawing his sleeve up to reveal a large purple mark, green flooding the outer corners. His eyes linger on it before lifting to meet yours. "My entire weight went right there."

Lips parted in a mass of shock and amusement, you stare. Words fail you, though a bubbly laugh draws to replace it. His lips curl upward, hesitant as though he's not sure he should be living this moment.

The laughs dawdle to a small lingering smile. Only a few cabins litter the edge of the visible road ahead, though the feeling of parting already greets you. Tugging at your chest like a pestering child.

"Do you-" he starts.

"Why are your-" you inadvertently interrupt.

"Sorry, you go first," you both say in unison.

His shoulder brushes against yours as a laugh greets the trees and bunnies hidden behind shrubs. "Seriously, you go first," he manages, bringing a wrist to his eye.

"Why are your friends so loud?" you inquire. Most nights, even some mornings, you can hear their loud cackles. Sometimes, you listened in on their conversations—not because you wanted to, but because it was hard not to.

"Are we loud?" his bewildered gaze falls on you. You look up to meet him halfway, nodding. He shrugs. "I didn't realize."

The shining light from the indoor side of your cabin greets you. Like a parent greeting their child after a first date with a new, alien smile.

He gently hands you the jug. A protective hand reaches for your shoulder when you allow it to drag your shoulder a little. "You got it?"

You nod with a smile.

He turns for his cabin, and you call out, "What about your question?"

The treads of his shoes stop against the gravel. He glances over his shoulder. "I'll just ask you tomorrow."

Tomorrow, you think. He expects to see you tomorrow. The thought warms your cheeks.

"Right. I'll see you tomorrow."

His shoes scrape against the gravel again, dismissing the conversation.

You start up the porch, hand closing around the doorknob when his voice pierces the night sky. "Sleep well! I'll try to get the boys to be a little quieter."

vi.

Mingyu nearly falls from shock when he steps out onto the porch the next morning. His acquainted question slips from his tongue with an uncertain drawl, as though he is unsure what language he speaks.

"Sure. I'll tag along," you smile up at him.

He slowly nods, bringing a disguised hand to the back of his neck before he pinches the skin. Nope. Not a dream.

In thirty minutes he returns with a pink-faced Soonyoung, shirts discarded and three towels. Soonyoung hands you yours as he scans your body. He hadn't believed Mingyu, that newfound glimmer shining across your skin, but seeing it firsthand leaves him speechless.

The lake water is chilled, the sun precariously hidden behind a large white cloud. Mingyu shrieks at its touch, drawing back to the sand. Soonyoung stares at him over his shoulder, muttering, "Pussy."

Your focus reigns on the cabin beside yours. Its porch is vacant. Not even a single paw crosses it.

His promise had proven effective, for after eleven o'clock the cabin seemed muted. As if a young child had stumbled across a remote, carelessly slamming the buttons without being aware of their meaning. It brought a quick, heart-fluttering smile to your face before you pressed your cheek against the pillow and fell asleep.

Mingyu, irritated with your withdrawal from their conversation about snails, waves a hand before your eyes. When all he receives is a lost, empty stare with that absent smile, he follows your gaze. All the way up the small hill and to the cabin harboring eight boys.

He gasps, dragging a palm to your shoulder and shaking you. "Y/N," he repeats.

"What?" Soonyoung asks, trying to break into Mingyu's line of sight.

You fall back into reality, looking between them. You hum, raising your eyebrows curiously.

Mingyu stares at you with parted lips, hand grown limp on your shoulder. "Why are you staring at the enemy's house?"

"Enemy?" you ask.

"Enemy?" Soonyoung repeats.

Behind Mingyu, a boy scales down the small hill. His appearance brings a spark to your chest, alighting all your muscles. Burning your entire body.

The sun peeks out from a cloud.

Mingyu catches the sparkle in your eyes. The sudden smile tracing your lips. He glances over his shoulder.

"Minho!" Soonyoung calls, suspending a high hand to wave at him.

He waves back. His white shirt sparkles in the sunlight.

When he reaches you, he hands Mingyu the small plastic bag from the previous night. "Here. Don't think I forgot."

Pink blazes the boy's cheeks as he accepts the bag. He peeks inside.

You nudge his shoulder, "Is that why he was an enemy?"

"'Cos you thought he wouldn't hold up his end of the deal? Mingyu, you're unbelievable," Soonyoung finishes, shaking his head. He turns back to the lake, burying his feet beneath the water.

Shyly, Mingyu mumbles, "I'll be back."

He climbs the hill, disappearing into your cabin.

Minho expels a laugh. "He's funny."

He's still staring at the guarding cabin door. A smile peeks on his lips, leaving you to wonder again what he thinks of in that pretty head. Suddenly, his eyes flit to you. "Do you wanna go for a walk?"

You glance down at your bikini and cheap flip-flops. "I'm not really dressed for a-"

"You can borrow some of my clothes, if you don't wanna go into your cabin," he interrupts.

You wonder what he smells like up close. In the breeze, you had caught the brief scent of sandalwood and tea tree.

Behind you, Soonyoung digs his heel into the sand. "Go with him. Don't overthink it."

And so, taking the granted permission and running with it, you follow Minho up the hill. You lean towards his cabin, quickly mentioning, "I think Yeji and Seungkwan are still sleeping. I don't wanna disturb them."

He simply nods, guiding the way. Soonie waits at the door and tries to sneak out through the gap. Minho presses the heel of his foot against the cat's chest, pushing him back in. The cabin is quiet, save for the distant running of water. He guides you down the hall to his shared room. In the top bunk, a boy lays with his body facing the wall. Covers are drawn to his chin, shielding his identity further.

Minho offers a plain white tee similar to his—though his is emblazoned with the outline of a peace sign—and black joggers. Thankfully accustomed with a drawstring. Just as you had imagined, when you tugged the shirt over your head, it smelled woodsy. It hugs your skin, like the comfort of a flickering candle in a dimly lit room.

By the time you sneak back into the main area of the cabin, a boy leans against the kitchen counter, phone in hand. He glances up, blinking harshly when he spots you in Minho's clothes. "You have a girlfriend?" he asks, tipping his head.

Minho's only response is a scoff before he slips back into the great outdoors. You hold the other boy's gaze for a moment before following Minho quietly.

He guides you in the way of the Camper's Corner, though he takes a sharp left where you would normally keep straight. It's an unmarked path. He glances over his shoulder, as though to assert you're following.

"It's not too bad of a walk," he mentions, glancing down to your flip-flops.

After only a couple more feet, the fast splashing of water summons your ears. It pulls your gaze into its sourcing direction. A narrow creek stares back, water plummeting across sharp peaks of rocks. You gasp.

Minho turns to you, smiling when he spots the glimmer in your eyes. Similar to the one that the sun casts on the water.

He kneels close to the mud, plucking a small shell. He offers it to you. The tips of your fingers graze the smooth ridges. On the underside, little legs squirm.

"It's a hermit crab," he says.

"I know," you laugh, looking up to him.

He shrugs, "I had to tell Changbin what it was."

You stare at him, the small crab suddenly forgotten. He nods, as though to say 'I know, right?'

You gently return the hermit crab to its niche. Minho suddenly grabs your hand, pulling you back to the main road. His palm feels awkward in yours beneath the sun. Yet still, you dread the moment when it will shed itself away.

"Hey," you say. He stops, looking over his shoulder with pouty lips. "What did you want to ask me?"

The hint of a grin flashes across his lips, shining like the sun, as he shakes his head. "I already got the answer."

He turns back to the road, continuing to tug at your hand. The sound of his slides scraping against the gravel reminds you of last night.

"What was the question though?"

His grip tightens and he chuckles. "You're persistent."

"I'm just curious," you defend, inching to tug a little back on his hand.

He stops abruptly. You nearly crash into his back. He turns around to you, slipping his hand away from yours and placing it on your cheek.

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. Or feel the warmth against your cheek.

His eyes are barren. For a moment, you're scared he might shun you away. Until his eyes crinkle and his teeth show, lips curled in a broad grin. "You should keep those clothes," he says, moving his hand slightly to catch a wandering strand of hair. He tucks it behind your ear.

"Why?" you manage to say through the pebble strangling your throat.

"You look cute in them."

Whatever breath you managed to withhold evacuates your lungs. You're not sure if it's the lack of oxygen, but you think he's leaning a little closer.

His hesitant breath tickles your lips and you meet him at the finish line. His other hand comes to cup your cheek as he kisses you. Your missing breath is found when his tongue trails across your bottom lip.

When he pulls away, he blinks as though he has returned from a blackout. Then, a chuckle slips past his lips. You stare at him, watching as the corners of his mouth upturn.

He grabs at your hand, pulling you up the road and back to the cabins. All the way, your tongue wettens your lips to revive his taste. You bite back smiles, grateful he cannot see you.

You feel like a schoolgirl again, calm and worryless.

vii.

He holds your hand as you step off the dock. The boat trembles beneath your leg and his grip tightens. "I got you," he reassures.

You sit opposite him as he tugs the oars back. The water winks up at you in fits of sparkling sunshine.

His invite had come like a surprise, preceded by the knock on the cabin. Yeji had answered, and before he even had time to ask for you, you were there. Peeking over her shoulder like an all too curious sibling. Normally, back at the apartment, life would play out like this. Someone would arrive at your doorstep, flowers in hand and ready to steal Yeji away on a date.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

So now, you sit in a boat, slightly seasick until Minho stops pushing the oars under the water. Only the quiver of the lake keeps you with a minuscule motion.

"I didn't really plan this far ahead," he says, looking back to the distant shore. On the dock, he notes, a boy stands. Then, running up from behind, he is pushed into the water. Impact splashing back at the one who remains standing.

He glances back to you, now having missed your words. "Sorry, what'd you say?"

"I said plans are overrated," you repeat.

A smile crosses his lips, somewhat feeling like a fond glimmer of nostalgia. You will chase after that smile, begging for the faint orange of this golden hour.

He leans forward abruptly, pressing his lips to yours. You smile into the kiss. The strings of his hoodie tickle your hand as you slowly bring your palm to his cheek.

The kiss brings that golden hour into clarity with pulsing fits of orange like a heartbeat.

When he pulls away, bottom lip slightly swollen, he pulls his sleeves over his hands as he glances down to the water. He will not admit what is on his mind, though the peek of his tongue slipping over his lips tells you all you need to know.

"What's your favorite color?" you inquire casually, drawing his eyes back to you.

"Mint," he quickly answers.

You learn that he cannot swim, despite his urgency to drag you out onto the lake, and that he's an only child. He just graduated college with a degree in Computer Science, though he doesn't know what he wants to do yet. Though, he makes it clear that he will never work retail. He has two other cats who were left back home because his friends had whined enough about bringing Soonie.

You find yourself smiling as he tells you stories from his former years. How he nearly flunked his Statistics exam because he accidentally went to the wrong class for half the semester (he couldn't explain how he didn't realize because your laughs suffocated his thoughts). How his friends rely on him for certain things. How he simply lives to live.

His lips find yours again after he tells you that he has a talent for catching people off guard. You flinch a little, though laugh.

As he pulls away, his smile reaches his eyes and you catch the glimmer of comfort sprouting in your chest.

His fingertips find the oars again when a cloud threatens the sun. It dims the lake, stealing the sparkle from the water.

A sigh slips past your lips as you watch the clouds turn. Vacation ends in four days, ready to drag you back to the needy college life. You wonder if Minho will keep in touch. Certainly, you remind yourself, he will. After all, you both live in the same city, so seeing each other shouldn't be a problem.

"What're you thinking about?" Minho asks as he's reaching for the rope to secure the boat to its dock.

His cologne lingers close as he leans over you. A hug-like comfort. You shake your head when he glances down at you. "Nothing."

viii.

A large pizza sits in the center of the table, steam rising from the center. Seungkwan leans over and grabs another piece.

"Gosh, we should've ordered another one," Seokmin sighs, glancing at the two empty boxes at the counter.

Yeji shakes her head, "Maybe if you guys didn't eat so much."

You smile, leaning back in your chair to watch this unfold. Seungkwan defensively waves his hand as he bites. Soonyoung chugs water to drown his words.

Mingyu, though, stares at you. His arms are crossed against his wide chest. He leans

forward, resting them on the table. The argument fizzles, leaving the elephant in the room to be addressed.

"Mingyu, why are you staring at me like that?" you laugh.

"Why are you so lighthearted? What did Minho do to you? Did he inject you with something?"

You blink, waiting for his questions to process. "I'm just in a good mood, I guess."

"Who's Minho?" Yuna returns from the bathroom, reclaiming her seat beside Yeji.

"One of the neighbor guys. He's really cool, actually," Soonyoung informs.

Mingyu shoots him a glare, though before he can speak, Seokmin has begun, "Yeah, you have been kinda weird today, Y/N."

You shrug, shyly looking down at your sweatpants that weren't technically yours. Minho had playfully pushed you into the cabin when you had offered to return them after your lake date. His smile had blazed brighter than the sun. Warmer than the sun. You smile at the close memory.

"See?" Mingyu points accusingly.

"I think you're overreacting," Soonyoung comments, grabbing the abandoned crust from Seungkwan's plate.

Yeji nods, taking a sip from her water before adding, "Just let her have her last summer love."

Mingyu huffs, leaning back into his chair. "I don't like him."

"Too bad," Seungkwan nudges him with a teasing smile.

Nighttime falls after a tense couple rounds of Mafia. Each time, Mingyu would insist voting you off, citing that you were suspicious and simply had to be the Mafia. Even when you were the nurse. Or the cop. You hadn't gotten the mafia card at all.

Your sheets are cold when you climb into them. And though Mr. Sandman has already dragged your eyes to a laze, you cannot find dreamland. Instead, you're left to listen to the night. Distant shouts from the neighboring cabin. You smile, wondering what Minho is doing.

A huff slips from your lips and an open palm rushes to your forehead. How have you allowed yourself to fall this deep? Maybe Mingyu's right. Maybe you should take a step back. Yet still, the imprint of his lips against yours haunts you with the pull at your heart.

You roll over, tugging your covers to your chin. Like the boy in Minho's room.

A hollow noise echoes throughout your ears. It travels upward, like your window being pulled. You flinch, though fight it off. It's nothing, you tell yourself. Just the wind. Or a deer. Or maybe it's a little rabbit.

But then, your heart stops beating when the rustic-style comforter pulls away from you.

Instinctively, you shoot up, swinging your arms. One connects with the heavy meat of a human. It heaves, doubling over in pain.

You tremble, heart shattering against your ribcage. Though, you gain enough strength to reach for the lamp, pulling down on the string.

A boy is balled up on the floor, clutching at his ribs. He glances up at you, squinting beneath the sudden light.

"Minho? What are you doing here?" you whisper. You realize you're in his shirt. And his sweatpants. They're comfy, okay?

He pulls himself up to sit at the foot of your bed, still holding his side. "You have got a strong arm," he gasps for air.

"What are you doing here?" you repeat. At the loud, though distant, chant of someone's name, you add, "Shouldn't you be with your friends?"

He shakes his head. The tips of his fingers pull at the hem of his shirt to reveal his chest. A slim red mark has already formed. He drops the cloth, glancing back to you, "I wanted to see you. You're more fun than they are."

You fight a smile. "You barely know me."

He shrugs. "So?"

You look down at your lap sheepishly. "I'm sorry for hitting you so hard."

"Don't be," he reaches for your hand, pressing your fingers against his momentarily and intertwining them. "I probably should've had a better gameplan."

You can't exactly disagree with that.

"Do you mind if I stay here tonight?" he asks, glancing back out into the open window.

"No, but can you not go home or something?"

He turns back to you, lips slightly pursed. "I'm getting tired of being with them. They're kinda draining."

You know the feeling, thinking of Seungkwan and Soonyoung's full-fleshed arguments that seem to have a daily timer of 7 P.M.

And so he kicks his shoes off and curls up next to you before you turn off the light. His arm curls around you as he sighs. His breath tickles your skin, flaring small goosebumps.

You rest your ear against his chest, hearing out for the small thumps of his heart. Ba-dum. Ba-dum. Ba-dum.

"You never told me the question," you say.

"It's not important anymore," he replies, pulling you a little closer.

Crickets swell in the silence that follows. His chest is warm, a comforting contrast to the earlier sheets. Yet still, you feel yourself asking, "Don't you think we're going too fast?"

And he simply responds, "You can never feel like you're moving too fast if you're constantly running out of time."

You hum. A response curls at your tongue, though your lips fail to move.

When you return to consciousness, the warm pillow you had rested upon is gone. The only evidence he was ever even there is the window, still open, and the wrinkles in the sheets.

ix.

He is not at the lake. He is not at the hidden creek. Maybe he's on a hike, you think. But as you pass his cabin and peek inside, your stomach drops.

The place is pristine, as though eight young men had never even stepped foot inside. You take a peek inside, scanning through all of the rooms. Nothing. Bare beds and bare halls.

His shirt itches against your skin. Not a single goodbye. Pricks of something volatile poke your skin as you realize you have nothing to contact him by. No phone number. No cringy Snapchat username he made when he was thirteen. Nothing.

You drag your feet back to your cabin, passing Seungkwan huddled over a bowl of oatmeal. His greeting distantly floats through your ears, though you fail to process it.

When you fall into your bed, sheets still indented by his figure, a hot tear scales your face. His scent is all around you, like a taunting lullaby. You jolt up, tearing the shirt off of you and throwing it as hard as you can. It caves against the wall, slipping down silently.

You pull over a different, non-Minho shirt and rest back against the mattress. Though still, he remains.

A sob clogs your throat. You want to punch a pillow. Or a wall. Or him. No, you wouldn't punch him. You cannot even find it in you to direct your anger at him. Instead, you decide, you must have done something wrong. Maybe you whispered something in your sleep that infuriated him. Maybe-

A soft knock at your door.

"I'm sorry," you sob, burying your face in the pillow as you clutch the sheets.

Beside you, the bed dips beneath someone's weight. A hand falls against your back, its fingertips tapping lightly.

You expect it to be Yeji. Or Yuna. But instead, when you look, it's Mingyu. His face is blank, not even a trace of an "I told you so" glazing it. Instead, his eyes are covered with a film of pity.

"Did you know?" you manage through the tears.

Slowly, he nods. "I'm sorry."

You shake your head. "It's not your fault."

He pulls you into a hug, and you're glad that his scent does not resemble Minho's. Mingyu smells only like cotton. Freshly washed cotton.

"He's a dick, not telling you he was leaving," he says, drawing a hand up to your head.

Seungkwan's voice drenches the room with bitterness. "Who the fuck hurt you? I will kill-"

Mingyu looks back at the boy standing in the doorway. He shakes his head, beckoning the boy to leave. And he does.

You're grateful for Mingyu.

Only three days remain in your vacation, yet each second is more brutal than the last. Dried tears glue strands of hair to your cheeks. At night, Mingyu comes in and lays with you, rubbing small circles into your back as he tries to make you laugh. Yeji stands in the doorway, confused arms crossed against her chest.

The day before you leave, Yeji stops at your bedside and whispers. "We can leave today."

You look up to her, shaking your head slightly. That's all the energy you have to do. Your voice is a croaking mess when you bring yourself to say, "Don't let me ruin your fun, please."

The final day, as set aside on the drive here, is a day of fun. Hiking and swimming and laughter. Though you remain in bed, sheets pulled to your chin as your fingertip rubs small laps along your lips.

When Seokmin sneaks into your room at dinnertime, a small slice of pizza resting on a paper plate, he says, "You deserve better than him."

You nod. But you're not sure you believe him.

You find yourself wondering what he did in the car ride home. What he's doing now. If his cats are happy to all be together again. You wish that you could have seen Soonie's little smile again. Or even seen Minho's fatherly intuitions with him for even an extra split second.

A fingertip rests on your bottom lip. The car is silent, save the low hum of the radio. Disguised by his sunglasses, it appears that Mingyu's eyes are glued to the road at all times. Though he steals a parental glance in the rearview every few seconds, as if to check you haven't withered away.

Even when Seungkwan coughs, Soonyoung bites his tongue. They do not argue the whole way.

When Mingyu arrives outside your apartment complex, you gather your things and get out of the minivan. Its familiar blue paint stings your eyes with tears. You look back into the car before saying with a forced smile, "Thank you, guys."

xi.

Summer dissipates with green fading to amber. You look at the golden leaves scattering the ground of the campus. Minho's smile flashes in front of your eyes, and you shake it away. A parasite.

You jog to class, sparingly glancing at your watch to count each minute you're late. At five past eight you get to the lecture hall. A quiet apology slips past your lips until you climb the stairs to the back.

For a history class, the seats are rather full. You sit at the end of the second to last row, beside a tanned boy with light brown hair and round glasses. His eyes stick on you a little too long, burning your skin.

Professor Nam discusses the syllabus rather quickly, his words failing to succumb to first-day stutters. His sudden clap makes you flinch, and his voice booms all the way back to you. "That's it. Scan the first chapter to familiarize yourself with the material. You're free to go."

You gather your things and are ready to descend the stairs when the boy beside you calls, "Wait!"

You glance back at him and a flash of familiarity blankets him. His words return to you before you can exactly place him. You have a girlfriend?

"Are you Y/N?" he asks.

Pain shoots through your chest and you take a wary step backwards.

He continues, quickly apologizing, "Sorry to catch you off guard like this. I'm Seungmin."

He proffers his hand. You take it. "Nice to meet you," you manage.

"You too," he smiles. Though, to you, all he says is 'You're the girl he ditched?'

You cannot find the words to form a question, though he beats you to it. He seems to do that, you note.

"What happened with you and Minho?"

Then, when he catches the sparkle of tears glazing your eyes he frantically adds, "If you're comfortable with telling me."

You look down at your shoes, remembering the days of sunshine that quickly turned to cloudy messes. "I don't know, really."

"He was a mess after we left, but he wouldn't tell us anything that happened," Seungmin rambles.

Your eyes shoot back to him. A hoarse laugh grabs your words, "He was a mess?"

Confused, he hesitantly nods.

"He didn't tell me you guys were leaving," you announce, the words stinging you all over again. "And he never left me anything to contact him with. I thought I did something wrong. I probably did."

You remember the white shirt stuffed into your closet, a pair of sweatpants crumbled beneath it. His scent is faintly attached to the fibers. Though, maybe, it's just your imagination.

Seungmin's eyes soften. "I'm sorry. You probably didn't do anything. He wouldn't react the way he did if you had. He's just stupid."

You dismiss yourself, aiding the excuse that you're meeting with a friend for coffee and he understands. Seungmin watches as you leave the lecture hall, a soft sigh tickling his lips.

When you get back to the apartment (not having another class until noon) you cry. Hot tears that irritate your skin. You pull out the tee shirt and hug it close. And the words, again, fall from your lips like a mantra. "I'm sorry."

xii.

Seungmin asks you to coffee a week later, a hint of something unfamiliar in his eye. You agree, though only under the pretense that he pays.

The coffee shop by the campus is riddled with already tired students and rushed projects. Seungmin sits by the window. An iced americano is cupped in his hand and he absentmindedly sips it, eyes over at a set of baristas scrambling to fulfill orders. His gaze breaks, falling onto you and he waves.

"Did I keep you waiting long?" you ask as you pull yourself onto the stool.

He shakes his head, gently setting the sweating coffee on a napkin. "No, I just got here."

He glances back to an aproned barista, who anxiously stares back. His eyes are apprehensive, tinged with a glimmer of something fierce. Seungmin nudges your hand, pointing at the boy.

You feel your heart stop beating. You might be leaning forward and passing out. You might be dying. But one thing's for sure, the boy who is currently holding your eyes makes you blister with heat and blur at the eyes. He stares with a freezing gaze that shoots goosebumps all along your skin.

And then he offers a hint of a smile that warms your body like a blanket. He glances to a coworker, inaudibly says something, and removes his apron. He tosses it into a small blue basket before rushing over. Seungmin gives up his seat.

Minho smacks the back of his head. "Thanks for drinking all of my americano."

"Shouldn't have left it there," Seungmin shrugs before starting towards the exit.

At the door, he turns back and smiles, "Have a good talk!"

You dumbfoundedly watch as Minho lifts himself to the stool. He rests interlocked hands on the table, creating a cage around his half-empty americano. "I'm sorry," he says.

"For what?" you look at him like a lost puppy. His heart softens and the guilt overrides him.

"Leaving," he glances outside, down the street where Seungmin crosses.

You somehow manage to keep looking at him. "Was it something I did?"

"No," he instantly turns back to you. "It was me."

"That's what everyone says," you fight a hurt chuckle. "You can tell me, really. It won't hurt."

And with a forced reassuring smile, you look deep into his eyes.

He shakes his head. "No really, it was me. I was confused and terrible at facing what I was feeling. I didn't want to admit that constantly wanting to kiss someone was more than friendly."

"I take it you still are," you mention. "Considering Seungmin didn't even know."

His head twitches in a nod. "Something like that."

A silence lies over you, though it's unlike the one you held when you walked back from the Camper's Corner. This one seems menacing. As though it has the power to destroy everything.

He suddenly grabs your hand and plays with your fingertips. He does not know the number of times you have pressed them to your lips—sixty-two. He does not know the days you spent staring at your ceiling, eyes burning from spilling insufficient tears. He does not know that you halted communication with everyone, save Yeji, from the trip because they reminded you too much of him. Yet still, his touch cascades your body with heat, as though none of that happened.

"You really don't have to accept this, but I would like to make it up to you."

Your heart catches in your throat and it echoes its thumps throughout your entire body. "Are you asking me on a date?"

Hesitantly, he nods. "I think so."

Your smile burns a whole through his chest. You ask innocently, eyebrows raised with joy, "Can I come see your cats?"

He laughs. "You'd have to meet my mom 'cos they live with her. My apartment complex doesn't allow pets."

"Second date, then."

"You already think you wanna go on a second date with me?" Minho grins, leaning a little closer.

You blush, shaking your head.

You stare into his eyes and see a tiny reflection of yourself. Behind that, you see remorse. Lost time. He's going to make up for it. That's a promise, even if it's not verbal.

xiii.

His laugh bubbles throughout the small room like the sizzle of soda. He pulls the cat close to him, cradling him like a baby. You watch as the cat paws at his chin.

He looks up at you, "I think he likes me."

You smile as he glances back to the cat. He nestles his fingers beneath the cat's chin and gently scratches.

Upon the idea of coming to a cat cafe, he was hesitant. "They might smell Soonie or something," he had pouted.

"It'll be fine," you had promised, taking his hand. They were warm, you recall, like those last days of summer.

And now here you sit, perched atop a chair while Minho rolls around with the cats. All swarming him like he carries a cat-summoning device. His smile is radiant against the sea of calico and tabby.

A flutter ravages in your chest when his eyes find yours. "Why are you staring at me like that?" he laughs.

"Like what?"

"You just look," he thinks. "I can't explain it."

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "Cat got your tongue?"

He delivers a wry laugh, returning his attention to the tabby who paws at his chin.

You watch as he fights the crowd to sit up. One immediately climbs upon his shoulder, reaching up to dig its paws in his hair. He gently pulls it off of him, resting it on the plush rug. He returns to his spot aside from you, bringing the straw of his iced americano to his lips.

"I feel bad," he finally says, curiously glancing down to the tugging sensation against the cuff of his sweatpants.

"Why?" you ask, resting your forearms on the table.

He looks back to you. "Because this is our first real date and we're in a place aimed for my interest. I'm supposed to be the one making things up to you, not the other way around."

You fight a laugh. "You know I like cats too, you know?"

"Yeah, but," he hesitates. "they're not really paying attention to you."

You shrug. "That's fine. Watching you interact with them is enough."

He smirks, "So you're saying you like watching me?"

"Interact with cats, yes," you confirm.

A hand grabs yours as he leans across the table to kiss you. His lips taste just like you remember—those sixty-two times did not go to waste. They're soft and taste vaguely of his coffee addiction. Back in summer, they had tasted like faint watermelon. Sometimes strawberries.

Abruptly, he pulls away. "Wait, I didn't ask if I could kiss you, I'm so sorry."

"You didn't ask me the first time you kissed me."

He squints, "Really?"

You nod, a shadow of a laugh tumbling over your lips.

He glances out the window, a look of reliving riddling his features. Eyebrows knitted together. Lips fallen agape. Finally, he looks back to you. "I don't remember not asking."

"Do you remember asking?" you tease, biting your straw between smiling teeth.

"Touche. But that's under different circumstances than right now. I'm supposed to be regaining your trust, not spontaneously kissing you."

You cock your head at him. "In summer, we barely knew each other and you were sneaking into my cabin to sleep in the same bed as me. How is that much different from randomly kissing me?"

He shyly brings his straw to his lips again, taking a long sip that extends the silence. "Summer was different," he finally says.

"Elaborate on that for me, please."

He sighs, flecks of red darting across his cheeks. He looks like he's about to give a presentation for a class he's failing. "Summer Minho," he finally begins, "was insanely stupid."

And then, his words fall. Another silence, save a couple cats clawing at a scratching post.

"And?" you urge him to continue.

He pouts. "I wasted so much time. We could've done this whole dating thing months ago, but because I wanted to run away from those scary feelings, we're here."

Then, in your stunned silence, he adds, "I wish I could go back and force myself to stick around. Or at least leave you a note. I thought about doing that, you know."

You sigh. "You can't change the past."

He lamentably nods, looking down at a sleeping cat to disguise the film blurring his vision.

"So let's make up for lost time," you declare, standing up.

He looks at you confusedly. "What?" he croaks.

"Minho," you offer your hand. Hesitantly he takes it, standing too. You continue, "I don't think I was ever really mad at you. I focused all of the blame on myself. So please, kiss me whenever. Show up at my doorstep at three in the morning because one of the boys got on your nerves. I don't care. I just want to be with you."

A small smile twitches as a lonesome tear slips down his cheek. He pulls you into his chest. The vibration of his laugh shakes against your ear as he whispers, "You're gonna regret saying that part about me showing up at your doorstep."

You laugh and shake your head, though deep down you know he's probably right.

xiv.

Lee Minho is a piece of work. Having the nerve to show up at your apartment while the world is shaking with thunder. His hair is soaking wet, as are his clothes. Though, kept dry, is the brown bag of Chinese food he shoved beneath his hoodie.

He laughs through shivers when you open the door, alternatively drenched with the desire for sleep.

"Did I wake you?" he asks, teeth chattering.

Through squinted eyes, you slowly nod, stepping out of the way to let him in. So tired, you note, that you didn't even bring him a towel before he enters the apartment. Small droplets of water quiver at his movement, pooling beside your doormat.

"Do you still have those clothes I lent you?" he shouts when you retreat back to your room.

A response is unnecessary, for you're already bringing them to him. White tee and black sweatpants, neatly folded. His cologne officially disappeared in the last wash, subtly replaced with your laundry detergent and Yeji's rose perfume.

He steps into your bathroom, quickly asking where your towels are. You point to the small bamboo cabinet Yeji insisted on buying the week before.

You glance at the green digits atop the stove. 12:56 A.M. A wry laugh clogs your throat as you suddenly remember what you had told him two weeks ago on your first date. Though, this begs the question: do you regret telling him that? No, actually. Because now, you will finally be able to fall asleep in his arms again. Plus, he brought you food for unintentional compensation of waking you. That's commendable.

He returns from the bathroom, his new clothes lay over dry skin. Yet, his hair is still damp and sticking every which way. He vehemently shakes his head like a wet dog, sending a few droplets to brush your skin.

He tugs on the top of his shirt, bringing it across his forehead to wipe at straying rain.

Then, he stands still. A simper creeps across his face and he approaches you, entrapping you in his arms. Gently, he sways you, mimicking the boat on the lake. "Sorry for showing up unexpectedly. Jisung kicked me out."

You fight his grip to look up at him. "Why?"

"I may have joked about kidnapping the cats and bringing them to our apartment."

"Was it really a joke?" you inquire.

He laughs. "No."

You press your ear against his collarbone, silently sighing. A content smile crosses your lips as you close your eyes.

xv.

A distant, long forgotten episode of Haikyuu! hums on the TV. Minho's forehead is pressed against your shoulder and his light snores usurp the quiet argument between Hinata and Kageyama. Minho's arms have gone limp around your waist, loosened by the depths of slumber.

You turn in his arms and stare at the slope of his nose. The way his lips are barely parted. The way his eyelashes tickle against his cheeks. His hair has long since dried, though frizz defies its normal shape. You smile before pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose.

In your younger years you had imagined that your final year of college would be tinged with the weight of growing old. Now, every time you're with Minho—in his arms or merely in his presence—you're relieved of all of the nonsense adulthood brings. No stress. Just simply living. It's like a constant adventure with him.

His eyes peek through heavy lids and he tips his head back a little, tapping the back of the couch. In a drowsy voice, he mutters, "Stop watching me sleep, weirdo."

You giggle. "You were snoring."

He shuts his eyes again, humming as he returns his head to the pillow. Barely audible, he whispers, "I love you."

A loud thump echoes in your ears before a smile creeps up to your lips. "I love you too."

In the morning, he will deny this ever happening. Yet still, you will smile and go along with it. "Maybe I was imagining it," you will say with a shrug before disappearing to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. In your wake, he will whisper those three words again, and you will pretend you hadn't heard. Though a smile will fall on your lips when you return to him, two mugs cozied in your hands.

Now, you know that it's nearing four in the morning, and though your tiredness has long fled, you rest your forehead against his and shut your eyes. Lee Minho loves you, even if he denies saying it in his slumber-drunk world. He wants you to stay. And in return, he will stick by your side. Even when you forget Dori's birthday.

#bandaigaeru #skz #stray kids #skz scenario #skz scenarios #skz imagine #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #lee know #lee know x reader #minho x reader #minho imagine #lee know imagine #lee know scenario #stray kids au #skz au #lee know au #lee minho

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 4 years ago

Text

Ok but I have been thinking about this “Astor takes Zelda when she’s young” AU all night like:

So Zelda’s mom dies and Astor gets his astrolabe from Asivus after he fucks with the guardians and [REDACTED] and Astor has his little Calamity agenda all within a shorter amount of time than the span of time in HKU. This is so that Zelda doesn’t have too much knowledge about her role as Hylia’s vessel yet so that when Astor takes her she’s like “dope” and doesn’t really know exactly how important she is. I mean as soon as your mom dies and your dad turns into a dick, the first magic dadstor to come into your radius going like “let’s go vibe somewhere else” I think anyone would accept that.

So the princess is whisked away and the kingdom goes into pure shit and chaos, and Rhoam is left no choice as to basic double, no, triple down on Sheikah tech and the divine beasts, all while sending out searches for the princess—which never come into fruition.

Meanwhile, Zelda grows up with the Yiga Clan as an assassin shes got a sickle and short hair because yeah!! Zavis is still a spy but instead of joining the Yiga Clan to be more useful to Zelda, he joined the Yiga Clan to find her and when he did, since his dad and Zelda are all basically on the same side he doesn’t have really any loyalty to the crown anymore

Now just in case, Astor pretty much lies to Zelda about her past as she grew up, just so that there isn’t a chance she gets dragged back into castle life or anything. “Oh yeah, you were just some little noble girl who’s dad was a dick, and I was friends with your mom before she died so I decided to take you in” and it lines you just enough with what few memories Zelda has of her childhood that she believes it. And ironically, with her loyalty to Astor and the Yiga Clan, she grows to despise royals and laughs at the stories of the missing princess like “ha, what a nerd. Hyrule really is doomed since she dipped from her destiny, what a loser.”

Does Siv team up with Astor earlier since he doesn’t have Zelda to give him hope that he can overcome the Calamity? Maybe. Idk.

So anyways, Zeldas going out doing Yiga things and she meets a knight with a pretty cool looking sword, and she’s like “Oooo imma steal that” and then she tries but she failed because this kid is REALLY skilled. He beats her, but doesn’t kill her when he realizes “You’re just a kid?” Then, they hear someone coming, like a captain or something, and he tosses her a few rupees like “get out of here and go home, the others won’t hesitate to kill a Yiga like you—girl or not”

Now Zelda goes home but she’s PISSED. Not only did she get her ass beat despite being the most badass Yiga she knows, the kid has the audacity to toss her RUPEES as if she was just some common poor thief. What an asshole! But also, she’s super ingrained by him because pretty much her whole life she’s believed the knights and those with the royals are a bunch of ruthless assholes who do nothing but blindly adhere to their commands and rules. So the fuck is with this kid??

She doesn’t tell anyone about this encounter (mostly because she doesn’t want to be yelled at, nor admitting the embarrassing detail of being beaten) but she does tell Zavis about it. And he’s like “pfft. He’s just a kid, btt it give him a few years and he’ll grow up like everyone other asshole out there, trust me”

Then later on, Zelda sneaks out looking for this kid again. And she does, and they kinda cross blades, but mostly she just complains to him about how annoying he is, and she tosses the rupees he gave him back like “I don’t need your pity money!” And they banter for a bit more and eventually she’s like “what’s your name, huh?” And the knight is like “....you don’t know who I am?”

“Oh let me guess, you’re one of the hundreds of people named Link, is that it?”

“Something like that.”

“Well Link, I’m Mallory, and I’m going to kill you now!”

Suddenly Link’s stomach grumbles and he sheathes his sword “Dinner break!”

“WHA—?? Keep fighting me you idiot!”

“Nah...I’m super hungry.”

“What?!?! What’s wrong with you??? I’ll kill you!”

“No you won’t.”

“I will!”

“You’re already breaking a sweat and I’ve been holding back this whole time. Plus, if you wanted to kill me why did you just give me back my rupees when I had my back turned instead of stabbing me? Either you like talking to me, or you suck at your job. Anyways, cucco nugget?”

So they’re kinda friends now.

So time passes and they’re still secret friends, and they like being friends because they “keep it real” as the kids say. Link never admits to her that he’s the hero, but vents about his knight life and his dad who never seems to be happy for him despite his accomplishments. And Zelda vents about her life in the Yiga Clan, and despite being the best, Astor never seems to want her involved in the more important missions and never tells her jackshit”

“Well I guess that’s good for me. Would hate to have the Yiga’s best asset being used.”

“Hey this is serious!! I need to help in the destruction of the royal family with the Calamity!”

“Do you really believe that? That we’re all already doomed?”

“Well yeah. I mean, even if the hero’s around, the princess is dead, so you all don’t stand a chance. But don’t worry, when the Calamity comes I’ll give you a heads up and you can go chill in Faron or something”

Then, things be picking up with Astor and the gang, and he’s finally found an opportunity to kill the hero. And Zelda remembers hearing from Link that he sometimes hangs out with the Champions and the hero for protection, and she’s like, “can I come?” because she wants to be useful, but also to make sure Link doesn’t die or anything. Yet per usual, Astor’s like “No. Just stay here.”

Now Zelda gets super pissed and him and they have a fight, mostly circulating around the fact that Zelda’s been nothing but loyal to the Yiga Clan and yet she nevers gets to actually feel useful and it also put on the sidelines whenever anything actually impactful happens. “Hell, even ZAVIS does more than I do! What’s your problem?! Can’t you have confidence in my for once??”

And Astor in Astor fashion ends the argument super harshly like, “You won’t be ready for anything, ever. You’re still incredibly naive and foolish, so if you want to help, then you can help everyone by staying here, and safe, and away from everyone. THAT is the only thing of use you can do, so do it.” And then they go off to kill the hero and Zelda runs off to her room al frusterated and shit.

But you know, you often meet your destiny on the road you take to avoid it. And this Astor’s little plan to keep Zelda away from Calamity related business so that she can never discover her powers or who she is...is gonna backfire, splendidly.

So Zelda sneaks out anyway, with the idea in her head that if she kills the hero before Astor even gets there he’ll have no CHOICE but to recognize how competent and useful she is and he’ll eat his words!

But then she gets there, and she sees the Champions, and Link, and she goes to confront Link with sickle in hand like, “I don’t need you! Just tell me where the hero is, and I’ll spare the rest of you!” And the Champions are like “wtf” and Link is like, “Just leave. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing! Just tell me where the hero is and no one else has to get hurt.”

And Daruk’s like. “Uhh...but he is the hero?” And everyone glares at Daruk, and Zelda goes into shock, like w h a t. Aw shit..so that fancy sword was the master sword...and he’s so good at fighting because he’s the bloody hERO FUCK, IT’S SO OBVIOUS NOW FUCK.

And I feel like as Zelda is contemplating her life choices in the moment. Revali would attack first because he’s like that. So he shoots her in the shoulder, or something, and she releases Link, and then something something her mask falls of and Urbosa recognizes her because of course she does. And Urbosa’s like “Zelda?!??!?” And Zelda’s like, “Who the fuck are you? Who’s Zelda? I’m Mallory.”

And by that point, Astor is there and he’s like “wtf is going on here.” And he sees Zelda, and he’s like “Mallory get over here right now.” And she hesitates for a moment because she’s right between him and Link.

“Move aside, now. Quickly. We’ll discuss your insolence when we get back home.”

And she’s like “...No.”

“Excuse me?”

“T-There’s no need for this. The princess is dead, right? S-So what’s even the point?”

“We have to ensure victory for Lord Ganon. We’re just making sure there’s no chance of anything happening. There’s no need to defend them, they’re all doomed, they’re all the same. If the hero doesn’t die by my hand, he’ll die by the Calamity’s. So move.”

“You don’t know that!”

And Astor raises and eyebrow because this is basically the first time Zelda has questioned this, ever. “What did you say?”

“I...I said you don’t know everything! You could be wrong!”

And he gives a sad smile and shakes his head. “I know more than you know.”

“I’ll tell you when we’re done here, promise.” And then he does his little malice teleport thing and he’s about to kill Link with a big ol’ malice attack, and Zelda does that reaching out thing like “No!”

And the BOOM. Her powers awaken, and EVERYONES like “oh shIT.” And Link’s the first one to be like, “You’re the princess???” And Astor’s like “hmmmmmmmm....fuck.” And Urbosa’s like, “Ok, I’m gonna stab Astor now.” and then she does! good for her.

And then Zelda is freaking out like what the fuck just happened who huh where what huh and then theres conflict because she doesn’t want Link to die but also his team just sorta stabbed her father figure and then its chaos or something and uhhhhhhhhh yeah that’s all I got I have no idea how this would end.

I feel Zelda wouldn’t go back to the Yiga Hideout after that, in fact I think she might run off with Siv because he’s like “hey, hey, hey. maybe gimme some of that light juice and get the calamity out of my head?” And of course Zavis would go whereever Zelda went (maybe?) She definitly wouldn’t go with the Champions yet, but they’re out looking for her. And also Astor would be looking for her with the Yiga Clan but mostly he’s like “fuck my life.” because literally everything he had been working towards and planning for over a decade has been ruined in like, an hour.

#hku au #hku spoilers

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ichika27 · 3 years ago

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OnS Chapter 106

Well... this chapter is making me ask questions lol. At last though, we’re back to seeing what Mika is doing but is also continuing from where the previous chapter left off. So many things happening at once.

The 2nd Progenitor Rigr Stafford vs. 3rd Progenitor Lest Karr and 5th Progenitor Ky Luc. Lest is having trouble and is worried due to facing a 2nd progenitor while his companion Ky is enjoying himself and feels confident he could win against a their enemy. Rigr realizes in the middle of battle that Ky is probably Urd's right hand man since Ky's ability surpasses that of a regular 5th progenitor.

Rigr aims at Ky's eye. Ky realizes he can't dodge it anyways so he just went straight ahead to land an attack himself. Now the two of them are too connected to each other which worried Lest since he's about to use a lightning attack. Ky just tells him to go for it.

Ky gives his sword as much blood as he could give to make sure Rigr couldn't get away when Lest uses Heaven's Fan. When the attack is done, Ky sustained a lot of injuries.

It seems the attack had worked and had injured the 2nd progenitor as well. I felt pretty suspicious at this moment cause there’s no way these two could easily beat a 2nd progenitor. Plus Rigr wasn’t really that worried despite saying so cause he doesn’t always mean what he tells them. I thought there must be a trick.

2nd Progenitor Urd Geales finally makes an appearance! Lest tells him of what had transpired and Urd isn't amused and tells him that it's impossible for a vampire to escape the cell (he made it so himself). He then tells Rigr to stop messing with his subordinates.

With a clap of the hands, Rigr is back in the cell. Rigr reveals that the entire fight was nothing but an illusion that he learned from humans. lol I knew there was a trick but I didn’t think it was all an illusion. I thought he’d easily regenerate or something.

You know what, Rigr’s teasing nature and laid-back attitude in the middle of battle reminds me of Ferid. They might not be blood-related but he is the one who turned Ferid into a vampire so it’s close.

The two former friends have a little reunion. Ky apologizes for the trouble but Urd tells him it wasn't his fault as Rigr is of a higher rank and can't be helped.

It seems he still cares...

Rigr asks Urd what the latter has in store for him and Urd says that if Rigr doesn't answer his questions, he might just kill him. Urd asks what Rigr’s plan is and Rigr tells him that his revenge plan against the 1st Progenitor hasn't changed yet after all these years so there’s nothing to say.

Urd says that in betraying the 1st, Rigr had also betrayed him and Rigr offered to be killed. He mentions he hasn't forgotten about Urd and has thought about him everyday when they were separated.

I’m sorry... these lines are getting to me. They must’ve been really close friends for them to be this way with each other. They kinda remind me of Mika and Yuu in a way except these two sort of became rivals or something.

Urd then asked Rigr about this revenge plan and how it's going.

I’m guessing the original question is asking about what the plan is specifically but it’s changed to asking if it’s going well. I wonder if Urd had realized what it might be before asking?

Meanwhile, Mika is still inside Yuu's heart. In front of him is a strange eye and he's trying to figure out what this one is exactly.

Mika touches the eye to peek into what's in it. He's then transported to this strange place and in each of the containers inside is an eyeball each. Mika finds himself possessing one of these eyeballs.

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who recognized this from the Ancient Greece flashbacks several chapters ago.

It’s tiny Yuu-chan! It confirmed that this is Mikaela's room from back in Greece thousands of years ago from the flashbacks. Yuu visits here many times to try and wake up the "sleeping" Mika inside the glass. This is probably a later scenario from Ashera’s flashbacks cause this Yuu isn’t borderline emotionless and acts like an excitable child unlike the Yuu that Ashera first met.

Noya tells him it's pointless as Mika is dead but Yuu tells him that Mika will certainly wake up. It's Yuu's job to wake him after all. Noya comments that Yuu's exact duty is to be the sacrifice to awaken Mika. Yuu didn't hear this and continues to call Mika which annoyed Noya enough and in the end, Yuu was killed.

Okay, so I don’t remember if Yuu had been calling Sika Madu “Father” from before or if this is some new development because I think he just called him “Master” back then? Also, I guess this means Yuu and Mika are connected more deeply than we thought. I wonder how Yuu would be sacrificed.

Noya then uses one of the eyeballs and turned it into another Yuu. The new Yuu could talk but knows nothing. He kept asking so many questions that Noya got annoyed again and killed this one, too. Ashera tells him that it's not right and Noya just says that he just has to get used to it. Plus no one would notice how many had been killed if they made another Yuu.

We’re finally shown how they make Yuu-chan clones. I wonder what changed or how this is done as the new Yuu clone acts like the previous one: loud and excited. He’s totally not like the Yuu that Ashera met who is quiet and sort of emotionless. I thought they would start out like that quiet Yuu first and then learn to be normal but it seems the clones are more like the new version of Yuu.

The next Yuu Noya had created is the one Mika is currently possessing. Of course, this “Yuu” wouldn’t act the same as the others since Mika is possessing it. Noya didn’t question this or at least, he seems to not and just leaves this Yuu be.

So either he’s just faking and realized that there’s something really different (as that look is suggesting) or the personality of the Yuu-chan clones differ from one another that this is a possibility. Also, since Yuu-chan is a clone, who was he cloned from? Was there an original Yuu-chan? What was he then? So many questions...

The 1st Progenitor and the others have arrived. Raimei scolds the kids for entering the room without permission but Byakko just tells her to go easy on them as they're just kids.

The group (minus the 1st Progenitor) looks like their demon selves: from the outfits to the horns). Does this mean they’ve been turned to demons at this point? Also, Byakko’s personality doesn’t look as serious as he seems as he currently is as Byakkomaru. By the way, I don’t think I’ve ever heard their original names being used so not sure if these are right. I got them from the wiki when I was looking at the correct name spellings for the other characters.

Back to the present, Rigr offers Urd the choice to join him in revenge. Rigr tells them that his preparations are ready and apologizes for taking too long with it. He asks Urd if the latter has any hostages and it's revealed that the people Urd was carrying earlier are Shinya and Kureto and so Rigr asked about their demons (which are their former vampire companions).

This is making me wonder what Urd’s plan is. At first of course I thought he’s asking Rigr about this revenge thing cause he wants to know if he could stop it or change Rigr’s mind. But now I’m confused cause the way he’s asking seems like he’s... interested? And Rigr asked about hostages which Urd already has and coincidentally (or not...?) they are Shinya and Kureto who are the contractors of Byakkomaru and Raimeiki. Rigr even asked about the demons.

Like if Urd turned out to switch sides and becomes Rigr’s ally, I don’t think I’d be surprised. The current arc is just everybody switching sides and backstabbing everyone else or having ulterior motives in the stuff they do. How many opposing groups do we even have now lol.

Switching back to the past, Mika continues to observe the others through the clone Yuu. Sika Madu seem to have realized what he really is though and addresses him directly.

I’m betting this is the real Sika Madu cause he’s already left Shinoa. Plus if his other demon companions could go to another demon’s world, there’s no doubt he could do it, too since he’s the most powerful of them all.

Sika Madu tries to put Mika to sleep. A struggling Mika hears Yuu's voice telling him that in order to escape they must work together. If they devour one another, Mika would become Yuu's demon. As Sika Madu continues to use his powers on Mika, Mika finally accepts and lets himself become Yuu's demon.

Finally! I guess if this goes well (which there’s a high chance this would go well unless the author decides to prolong the drama), Mika would finally become a demon weapon. it’s also another sword if I remember correctly. I wonder if Yuu will use it now that Asuramaru can’t be trusted? Speaking of which, I suddenly remembered the cover art for one of Owari no Seraph’s artbooks wherein Yuu is shown with his sword and the reflection in it is Mika. Foreshadowing or coincidence? Probably coincidence since it’s the reverse in another artbook. Still it’s cool.

The Vampire side of the story is slowly connecting to the protagonists’ side of the story. It looks like whatever it is that Rigr is planning, it’ll involve the demons residing in a majority of the main casts’ weapons. They’d cross paths sooner or later.

Shinya and Kureto got caught but where are the others? Where are the rest of Guren’s squad? I wonder who the demons are that’s inside of the weapons of the others...

I’m still sad they chose not to use the nickname Mika had for Yuu. “Yuu-chan” is distinctly Mika’s nickname for him (it’s even Mika’s favorite phrase according to one of the fanbooks haha). Plus since they never use any honorifics for the way everyone else calls Yuu (Yoichi’s “Yuu-kun” and Shinoa’s “Yuu-san” are just “Yuu/Yu” now), there’s no difference. Mika calling Yuu by a specific nickname even became a plot point when one of the human soldiers trusted Mika because of how he calls Yuu. Like, I get why they’re not using honorifics in the official translation but it’s still a shame. Now everytime I see Mika call Yuu or refer to Yuu, my mind fills in the missing honorific. It will always be “Yuu-chan” to me.

Anyways, the last page of this chapter never said when the next one would come out. I wonder why? I’m hoping it’s not a hiatus but it can’t be helped if it is. I’m kinda excited for what’s to come next. I wonder what happened to everyone else? Are we ever gonna get POVs from them or are they also just left to the side since they’re not part of the main conflict? I mean they seemed to have completely dropped Narumi since I haven’t seen him in a while.

Thanks for reading this if you did!

#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #ons #manga #sana_post

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rhmg-au · 4 years ago

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I couldn’t resist, okay? The idea came into my head one day and it was like “write me please”, so I did.

The prequel’s next part will be coming soon, so please stay patient with me, I’m no good at being on time-

This is not connected to the ficlets I already made, so you could see this as an alternate timeline if you like.

This AU belongs to @rhmg-au . Please follow them, reblog their art, give them fanart, support them in any way possible, etc.

Charlie and Copper created by FlamingRedAnon.

TW: Blood, gore, death

(Mod Swanno: Read more because of length and content! ^^)

———

Four to one.

It didn’t seem fair, not in terms of battle, but why this fight is happening in the first place.

Four unlucky and unfortunate souls twisted into weapons, machines, their only purpose to destroy the Toppats.

It all began when Right Hand Man was taken away from the clan, just before the launch of the spaceship. His sacrifice made it possible for the rest of the members to escape from a fate they didn’t deserved, at the cost of his freedom and free will. Now, he’s referred to as Green.

A while after the space station was set up completely, Reginald Copperbottom disappeared without reason or warning. Several search parties were sent down to Earth and even around the station, but no signs of him were spotted. No notes or messages were found left by him, only bumping the concern and fear up by a longshot. Toppats were getting killed off at a much faster rate, causing Henry to bring the remaining clan members into the orbital station to prevent more casualties, only allowing them to leave if they have a viable reason to or it’s deemed safe to go back, which it isn’t. After this decision was made, no further deaths were reported. Reginald was only seen again when they raided the Government to get their fellow Toppats back, but he wasn’t the same. He was changed into a cyborg too, against his will, and just like with Right, had his memories wiped clean. New name? Copper.

Charles Calvin was a pilot who worked for their enemy, while he may came from the opposing side, one can clearly see how uncomfortable he was with the General’s choices, and wants to help. Unfortunately, his motives were discovered and he too suffered the same fate as Reginald did. Charlie is what he’s called by now.

Similar to his co-worker, Rupert Price is a high-ranking soldier in the Government, and like the pilot, is uncomfortable with the decisions of the person he takes commands from. But he has another reason why, he’s been trying to convince them to save a friend of his, however they kept denying as he’s just an average citizen who’s not worth saving and it provided no benefit for them if they do. These were more than enough to push him to his breaking point. His life took a turn for the worst when he was caught by the monster behind all of this, and was changed into something he never wanted to become. Before this though, he was tortured mercilessly for defying the expectations of a soldier. Prize replaced his original name.

All of them were standing before her, the only one who could possibly match against them, Sabine Setorion.

She couldn’t believe it.

But another thing that made it even more unbearable was that it was all thanks to her adoptive mother, the one who saved her from dying all those years ago, who treated her like a daughter…Dr. Vinschpinsilstein.

Even after all of the things they did, what she told her about them, she still decided to throw her words and the horrid acts to the wind for revenge.

But this isn’t simple revenge. This was too cruel to call it revenge.

Sure, they held her at gunpoint, made her turn Right into a cyborg, but they had no other choice. How else could they convince her to work on saving his life? Besides, wasn’t saving lives her job? Like how she did for her? No matter how it was demanded?

But…she couldn’t bring herself to hate her.

She’s blinded by her anger, the need for revenge, and has done inexplicably dastardly deeds, but hatred was out of the question.

Even with those conditions active, her care still shone through.

For now though, the only thing she should focus on at the moment was the fight she’s thrusted into.

And it was incredibly one-sided.

No one else could stand against these four walking machines, she’s the only one who could at least manage a short confrontation between herself and them.

But that’s not the only reason why she’s fighting a near hopeless battle.

All of those she ever brought herself to care about would be destroyed if she refused, including her mother.

Galeforce was cruel, there was no doubt about that, but this was insane. Not only was he putting countless Toppats and their lives on the line, and those she calls friends, but even that of his assistant. Just to satisfy his need for vengeance.

Blood spewed from her mouth, her burn had been covered up with the crimson substance that has found its way to the unhealed injury she still possesses to this fateful day. The scar which was sealed off years prior has been reopened in a painful way, the sting lingered with her for the rest of the fight. The stitches had undone, and a new one has been made to criss-cross the wound, effectively creating an X shape on her face.

Pain coursed through the entirety of her being, it was as if she was waking up from a coma but it was a worse version of it, like someone beat you senselessly while you were still unconscious, and you had the misfortune to wake up to experience the assault of agony it brought alongside your awakening.

The metal used to reconstruct her new body has been damaged severely, with five to one, she was barely even breathing. She never harmed anyone, because she knows that all of them are still human, still people who are worth saving, even if some of them are not from her side of the playing field. They were disabled (by her will) for the majority of the battle, only relying on evasion and defense as strategy.

It hurt, physically, mentally and emotionally. Knowing that under these circumstances, there was no real way to win. And to know that those she cared deeply for are forced to watch her eventual demise, and to know that those who have to end her can’t stop themselves.

All she could do was lay there, almost lifelessly, as she heard a command from the General:

“Finish her.”

As they prepared to end her second trial of life, she weakly spoke. “It-It wasn’t your…faults. I-If you c-can hear me, r-remember t-that.” You could hear it if you leaned in close enough, but they were quieter than total silence. They did nothing to help. They couldn’t hear her.

Yet she still tried.

A single, solitary tear escaped from her eye mixing in with her blood, a smile plastered on her face.

This was the end.

Four individual blasts came soon after.

The last thing she heard were screams and scrambling.

And she was gone…permanently.

———

I gotta admit, this was kinda rushed-

But hopefully you enjoyed the end result regardless of shortness and how rushed it seemed.

My poor baby didn’t stand a chance against four cyborgs, there was no realistic way for her to win unless she managed to snap them out of it.

Also I would like to say the reason why she was killed instead of being brainwashed like the rest: Dr. V was now against Galeforce, and unless he figures out how to do cybernetic surgery by himself, or finds another doctor, he can’t have another walking weapon at his disposal, leaving him no choice but to kill off Sabine.

I legit couldn’t think of a name that fitted Rupert’s rehabilitated version of himself, so Prize had to do (and no I did not use his last name as reference for it-)

Maybe I’ll do an alternative route for that possibility, who knows? ;)

Don’t worry, I’m still working on the prequel, procrastination and demotivation are being assholes to me at the moment, but hopefully I can combat them to bring another another work to this AU!

#PACKAGE - [ FANWORK ]#[ NON CANON ]#tw blood #tw gore #tw death #WAUGH #GREAT WRITING AS ALWAYS!!! - MOD - [ SWANNO ]#submission

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gay-jesus-probably · 4 years ago

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What's up fam does anyone want to hear my new theories on Paranatural JUST KIDDING YOU'RE GETTING THEM ANYWAYS

Okay so first things first: of all the medium's we've met so far, I think that Isaac and Johnny are the only normal ones. And also maybe Walker? Cause during the flashback at the start of Chapter 7 he uses his mute powers with his bare hands, and doesn't seem to use a tool to fight. It'd explain why his flashback aesthetic is so aggressively 70's even though the flashback is set in the early 00's and his usual style is 'cowboy' - makes sense if his flashback look is a symptom of possession.

...That's not the point. Flashback Walker being a medium is completely unrelated to this.

Anyways.

When Possessed Max was threatening Doorman in ch 3, the Doorman immediately identified it as 'a broken god'. Given that the spirit mentions it "didn't end up with the sense of humor", the broken part is probably very literal. Then later on while talking with Nin, Doorman says that Max is "unaware that he carries one of the s-". While the last word is cut off, my guess is it's the start of a number, and refers to how many pieces the Broken God is in.

So that leaves us with three major questions: 1. What is the Broken God and why is it broken? 2. Where are the fragments? 3. What do they want?

Under the read more, because this is 3k words and I’m not an animal.

What is the Broken God, and why is it broken?

While it was whole, the Broken God was a terrifyingly powerful entity with apocalyptic levels of power. It might have been a spirit all along, or it could have started as something else entirely. If that's the case, then the act of breaking might have 'killed' it, turning the fragments into spirits. Whether it was originally a spirit or not, it couldn't be destroyed completely, but being shattered left the fragments weakened and gave the rest of the world a chance against it. It's possible that it hadn't done anything to warrant being attacked, and it was just shattered out of fear of what something that powerful might do, but I think it's more likely it was a very active threat that needed to be brought down.

So who broke it?

Ron Swanson; it burned his hand so he punched it

Bad jokes aside, I think something that powerful would push the Godzilla threshold enough to make a lot of groups put aside their differences to bring it down. Judging by what we've heard about them so far, I assume that early versions of the Cousinhood of Man and Paranatural Activity Consortium were involved. The two organizations might have actually been founded in response to the crisis, or were originally a single group that had a schism after. I don't think it was just them, but I do think the Cousinhood and Consortium were major players in the whole mess.

Which brings us to...

Where are the fragments?

I can't say for sure how many pieces it's in, but judging by the Doorman's comment, my guess is it's a number that starts with S. That's a lot of options, but I'm guessing six or seven, because any higher numbers that start with an S would just be ridiculous - six or seven is manageable, but double digits or higher is way too much to keep track of, the story would never be able to give all of them the focus they deserve.

So we've got six or seven fragments of a broken god. Where are they?

Fragment One: Possessing Max, which is the only thing currently confirmed by canon. This is a very recent development, as Max isn't showing any physical symptoms, was able to cross the barrier to enter Mayview, and his spectral abilities didn't kick in until his first day of school. Given that Johnny starts seeing shades roughly twelve hours after his possession, that implies that Max was possessed the day he moved into Mayview.

I think Max's fragment was stuck outside of Mayview, and looking to get in. It came across the Puckett's heading towards Mayview, and hitched a ride by possessing Max. This is backed up by the fact that Max began to awaken as a spectral before having noticeably interacted with anything supernatural - on his first night, Max could hear Hissin' Pete, saw PJ as a shade, and PJ was able to physically interact with him. If we compare that to the timeline of Johnny being possessed around midnight and seeing his first shade by lunchtime the next day, Max would have been possessed at some point in the late morning of the day he moved to Mayview.

Max's fragment is not Scrapdragon. I think that Max is a little like Mr. Spender, in that he's a medium whose also wielding a tool. Max's fragment is very chatty, revealing itself to the Doorman with no prompting, speaking in long, eloquent sentences, and even talks at Isaac about the concept of school buses and his own morality. On the other hand, Scrapdragon's communicated only in angry screeching so far. Also, Scrapdragon is obviously the source of Max's magnet powers, and he can only channel them through the baseball bat that Scrapdragon's possessing. I don't think Scrapdragon likes the fragment either - despite being a grudge, it seems fairly neutral towards Max, and only gets angry when he accidentally hits it. I don't know if Scrapdragon is trying to oppose the fragment the same way Lucifer fights the Shadow, but I don't think Scrapdragon wants to hurt Max, and it might end up helping him.

Fragment Two: Alright so now we're getting into speculative territory. I'm not numbering these by order of introduction btw, from here on out I'm looking at this via connections.

Boss Leader is possessed by a wight that the Consortium's been studying for a very long time, and is fairly non-hostile. Although it can't communicate clearly, it can express its emotions to BL, and she seems to have a lot of trust in it. Despite Boss Leader's shenanigans, it's been repeatedly shown that she takes the safety of spectral kids very seriously - if she thought there was any chance her wight would be dangerous, she never would have introduced it to two teenagers and a toddler, especially not just to explain the concept of a wight. This is also backed up by the wight's actions during that conversation - it's clearly paying attention, but it doesn't show any hostility, and the only thing it says is "PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED". Hell, it even seems to be a little disappointed that nobody reacts to the wight/white pun.

Despite this, I believe that Sandman is a fragment of the broken god. Not so much because of how it acts, but because of its connection to other possible pieces.

Fragment Three: Dr. Gwen Burger and her husband got stuck inside the prison of an unknown Wight. It was imprisoned by the Consortium before the current Boss Leader took power, it's lonely, dangerous, and really wants out. If it escapes, the results probably won't be pretty, time works differently in its prison, and its dream is connected to Gwen's. I think that Gwen might be its medium, given how warped her appearance is in the dream world, and that the wights prison relies on it being bound to a medium.

Gwen's wight is seemingly hostile, given that it attacks the group at the first opportunity, but what it wants is hard to say - its only line so far is "LOOK AT ME", and it may have been responsible for the demise of Gwen's husband. It also looks very similar to Sandman, implying a connection between them. Given that it's already been established that a Broken God is out there, it only makes sense for Sandman and Gwen's wight to be more fragments.

And more importantly, they're both very clearly connected to another powerful spirit.

Fragment Four: The Shadow, which has been possessing Richard Spender for at least thirteen years now. It's obviously powerful, given how much it scares Spender and Lucifer, and how being its medium has affected Spender's reputation. Given how he reacts to Forge saying he 'defeated the strongest spirit', that likely refers to Mr. Spender's past experience with the Shadow, and the circumstances that led to his possession.

Apart from its power, the main reason I think the Shadow is a fragment of the Broken God is because of its connections to Sandman and Gwen's wight. With Sandman, they look incredibly similar - the Shadow's face resembles a sun and is noticeably missing an eye, while Sandman's face resembles a crescent moon, and its only clear feature is a single eye. This suggests that Sandman and the Shadow are directly related to each other. As for Gwen's wight, it's connection to the Shadow is made clear by Rick's reaction to being attacked by it - while everyone else reacts, Rick freezes up and starts shaking in terror, either recognizing it as being similar to the Shadow, or having a flashback to his obviously traumatic possession. Probably both.

There's also the reactions of Sandman and Gwen's wight. When the group is attacked by Gwen's wight, the framing of the scene heavily implies that it's reaching out to grab Spender - Boss Leader and Walker are moving to defend the others, Gwen's almost completely hidden behind Walker, Mina's reflexively shielding Rick and Ed, Ed's hidden behind Walker and Mina... and Rick is perfectly centered at the back of the group. Furthermore, the way the wight attack contrasts to Rick's flashback heavily implies that it's reaching for him specifically. Meanwhile when the kids are introduced to Sandman, while it's kinda hard to track its line of sight, it seems like it might be staring at Rick the whole time. What the two wights say could also be interpreted as them speaking directly to Rick - Gwen's wight wants him to look at it, while Sandman begs him not be scared. If the two wights are fragments of the Broken God, they might be able to recognize that Rick is the medium of another one, and react accordingly. Gwen's wight wants him look at it, possibly realizing that he's frozen in terror and wanting to keep him that way so that he's an easy target. Sandman also realizes that Rick is traumatized and keeps its distance, asking Rick not to be afraid, as it doesn't want to hurt him. The point is, the Shadow, Sandman, and Gwen's wight are obviously connected to each other, and the most likely reason is all three are fragments of the Broken God.

I believe the Shadow was imprisoned at the bottom of Mayview Lake, though not by the Consortium. Thirteen years before Max came to Mayview, its prison was somehow broken by group that wanted to free the Broken God, though they were widely disorganized. Somehow a young Rick Spender wound up in the lake as the Shadow got free, and it pulled him under before possessing him. Given that Spender dying would free the Shadow, it's possible that the Shadow needed to possess a medium to escape its prison, and was trying to drown Rick right away to free itself. Lucifer intervened, pulling Rick out of the lake, and the two of them have been imprisoning the Shadow in Mr. Spender ever since.

Fragment Five: The Angel of Mayview.

Yeah, I know, she's definitely an enemy of Max's fragment and seemingly means well, but hear me out. When she speaks with Nin and Doorman, she pretty much immediately says she doesn't deserve to be called master. She also seems invested in Forge getting a second chance, not just to advance her goals, but also just for his own sake. These two details give me the impression that she's done some seriously bad things in the past, and is actively trying to make amends for it. Being part of the seemingly evil Broken God would qualify.

My other evidence is what Max's fragment says in Chapter 3. It specifically says that it "didn't end up with the sense of humor", implying that it's unable to find things funny. And right after that, the fragment and Doorman have this exchange: Doorman: Your return changes nothing, schemer. My master does not fear broken gods. Fragment: She should. Would if she could. The comedy your ignorance breeds is wasted on my ears.

This suggests that the Angel isn't scared because she can't be scared. Like she didn't get the ability to fear things, because another fragment has it. Max's fragment also suggests that it knows more about the Angel than Doorman does, and that considering her an enemy of the Broken God is ridiculous. All of this heavily implies that the Angel herself is another fragment.

Fragments Six and Seven: At this point I'm mostly out of obvious suspects. There's really only two major players unaccounted for, and while I do think both are fragments, I think they might both be fragments I've already discussed.

The great power that sleeps in Mayview is heavily implied to be a Big Deal. That being said, I think we've seen it already - who do we know that's a suspected medium for a fragment of the Broken God, and is permanently asleep? Yeah, I think the sleeping power is referring to Boss Leader. Her physical body is comatose, making her completely defenseless in the real world, and if Sandman is a fragment, Boss Leader is obviously very powerful. If Boss Leader's real body is in Mayview, then she's definitely the sleeping power.

Alternatively, it might be referring to the Shadow being imprisoned in Mayview Lake. Forge hasn't been in Mayview in a long time, so it makes sense that he wouldn't know the great power he's seeking was released over a decade ago. His attempt to command the pixelhounds also makes it clear that he's not above using evil methods to try and do what he thinks is right, so it'd make sense that he'd be willing to try and take control of it to help the Angel. It'd also explain why Mr. Spender starts laughing when he hears that, despite the fact that he's literally being tortured - Forge doesn't realize that the power he's looking for is right there. Mr. Spender also calls Forge misinformed right after that, suggesting that he knows what the sleeping power really is. Could be that he knows it's Boss Leader, but it could also mean he knows it's him. Either way, Forge is looking in the wrong place, and Mr. Spender knows it.

As for the other unexplained mystery, we have Penny Spender and her white spectral energy. That's a trait unique to wights and their mediums, which suggests that Penny is the medium of a wight. And given that all wights seen so far are probably fragments of the Broken God, it's likely that her wight is as well... but I think her wight is the Angel. We know fragments can speak through their mediums if they want, and the Angel hasn't made any personal appearances yet, only speaking over the phone. And the reactions of Nin and Doorman imply that's normal for her. Penny's obviously hiding that she's a spectral, so the Angel might be hiding that she has a medium to protect them both. As for why the Angel is possessing Penny, well Richard and Penny are obviously siblings, and Rick first got possessed when he was thirteen. If Penny doesn't know there's something horribly wrong with her brother, I'd be very surprised. I imagine we'll find out more about her, but whether or not Penny's possessed by the Angel, I think she's somewhat aware of her brothers situation and is trying to save him. Whatever her situation is, I'm looking forward to seeing more of Penny Spender, and I really hope she appears at some point in Chapter 7.

So now that we've got a rough idea of where the fragments are and why, that brings us to our final question.

What do they want?

I don't think they all have the same goals. Max's fragment saying it didn't end up with the sense of humor is an extremely informative sentence if you think about it - it means that the different fragments got different aspects of the Broken God's personality, and therefor will want different things.

The Angel and Sandman both seem to be non-hostile (for now at least), and the Angel is actively opposing other fragments. She also seems to be trying to make amends for the Broken God's actions, and feels deep shame over her past, leading me to believe that the Angel has the Broken God's remorse. The other pieces don't feel bad about what they've done because they can't. Likewise, I think Sandman might have inherited its fear, as it almost looks like it's trying to hide itself under blankets, and putting its medium's in a coma allows it to hide from the waking world.

Given their actions, I think the Angel and Sandman are against the Broken God's original goals, and are fairly benevolent. They do not want to become whole again.

Meanwhile, the Shadow, Gwen's wight, and Max's fragment all seem to be hostile. I believe Gwen's wight definitely wants to rejoin with other fragments, given that it seemingly tries to grab Rick. Max's fragment is harder to judge; it's definitely opposed to the Angel, but the Doorman's words imply that it's not really a powerhouse like the others. Max's fragment is the manipulator, the schemer - not the fighter. If it's the weakest of the bunch, it makes sense that it would want to become whole again. As for the Shadow, given that it's first move upon getting free is to attack Max and Isabel, it's definitely an active problem. The fact that it's indirectly described as 'the strongest spirit' implies that it got the most raw power out of all the fragments. I don't have any evidence that it wants to become whole again, but something about it gives me the feeling that it does. Here's hoping Mr. Spender realizes Max is possessed before either of their fragments makes a move. And no, I don’t think the Shadow realizes Max has another fragment yet; he’s still in the early stage of possession, so I think the only way for Max’s fragment to get caught is if it exposes itself. But Max’s fragment definitely knows where the Shadow is after chapter 4, so that’s bound to turn into a nightmare at some point.

Also on a probably unrelated note, the Shadow is a spirit of darkness that chooses to look like a sun, and if you look closely at Rick's memory getting possessed, you can see the Shadow had a massive slasher smile as it reached up to grab him. So uh... I think I know which fragment got the sense of humor.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, I look forward to being proved wrong about all of this. But I also kinda really hope I’m right. Either way, if anyone writes fanfic using my theories, I will love you forever.

#paranatural #rick spender #maxwell puckett #boss leader #gwen burger

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komahinasecretexchange · 4 years ago

Text

Title: maybe not star-crossed (but daybreak)

Author: @fieldofsunflowers8

For: @emmakoneko

Pairings: Hinata Hajime / Komaeda Nagito

Additional Characters: Kamukura Izuru, Nanami Chiaki

Rating: M

Warnings: No specific warning applies beside the ones that could be applied in Danganronpa in general

Prompt: Hajime realising he loves Nagito.

Author’s notes: hi!!! this is my exchange piece for the komahina secret exchange!!! this was super super fun to write, and i really hope my giftee likes it! special thanks to my friend for looking over this and making sure it’s coherent :D have a good day, loves!

Hinata Hajime is not a romantic, but romance fills his thoughts anyway.

It’s an identifier that isn’t exactly of importance, of course. Romance on Jabberwock Island, specifically in the aftermath of the Neo World Program, is something privately kept by each individual pairing. Occasionally, it’ll be the subject of harmless speculation on the slow days, but overall, it is just… a part of life.

A part of life that most of them never got to fully experience.

A part of life that Hinata doesn’t necessarily need to have a piece of.

A part of life that he wants, all the same.

He isn’t certain if it’s the influence of Kamukura on him that makes him hesitate in the face of it. The other is a lull in the back of his head most of the time, diminishing everything to uninteresting, and yet seamlessly taking control when Hinata gives the slightest hint of needing help, slipping into the role of the Ultimate Talent easily. It’s a difficult dynamic, and it would be a lie to consider it a linear sort of thing– lines blur when you are made to become another person, and further, residing with that person in the headspace.

Hinata wonders if, before it all happened, back at Hope’s Peak Academy in the suffocating reserve course dorms, with little to hope for… he maybe pined after romance in a desperate way, if he wanted something to break the suffocating silence, if it would all really be any different to him now.

It’s not something he needs right now, which is what he tries to convince himself matters the most. He has enough overwhelming quiet, and even more overwhelming noise. He has tasks to commit to– even though all of the Remnants have awakened, there are Future Foundation members to call, emails to send, resources to manage, buildings to reconstruct, surgeries to conduct… it keeps him busy, to say the least.

(He hardly allows himself more than the clinical, repetitive process of healing. Not his own healing– that is far from the forefront of his mind. Rather, constructing robot arms and extracting rotting body parts and starting up chemotherapy. For the others. Not him,

never him.)

Prioritizing romance is selfish, in all cases. Putting it before himself and everyone on the island, losing himself in the want of something he isn’t even sure he could recognize, if he saw it in front of him, if he had a flickering chance of love… it’s selfish. Excess. A lapse.

However, there is still a kind of yearning he keeps in the back of his mind, in the endlessly swallowing part of his throat, in the throes of his heart. A sort of fixation, solely focused on a single individual, who keeps him awake through restless nights and sends him directly to the infirmary for more work, who leads him to discover new places on the island that the person tends to frequent, who leaves him with an unfamiliar warmth that his body rejects like a disease because love is not-

One that defies all his wants and needs, all his thoughts on relationships and the others, all his thoughts on the person whom he thought he hated more than anything.

One fixated on Komaeda Nagito.

And this is where his doubt is born.

–

The first time he hears the name Komaeda Nagito is in a time before the seeds of despair were planted by his hands, before The Project became more than just a whisper of Hope’s Peak conspiracy and research. He hears it from Nanami Chiaki, before she became just a program, before an entire class gave into despair at the sight of her death.

He hears it from her at the fountain. Their fountain, he has taken to calling it, because while they aren’t exactly the only people to come here, they are most certainly the two students who frequent it the most. Before, it was a place to admire Hope’s Peak from a distance (one he maintained out of respect, or maybe self-hatred, or maybe an amalgamation of both), but after meeting Nanami, the cynical tones of the setting were replaced with a sort of safe haven.

It’s now comforting, for him, to hear the sound of her game starting up against the sound of rushing water, leaves and blossoms fluttering around them as the sun lights up the campus around them.

In all honesty, it’s easy to get lost in the surroundings, in his own thoughts, especially when he has the space to. Nanami rarely presses any matter, unless it is something she’s particularly passionate about, so Hinata zoning out isn’t exactly an issue for her. It’s not like she doesn’t do the same. Which leaves them with a pretty nice relationship, because either of them are free to completely lose themselves in their thoughts without having to make small talk.

However, he does jar himself back to reality to pay attention to the game she’s playing– it’s a survival game, which is sort of exciting, because that’s the kind of video game he thinks he’d be best at– and listens to the soft breath she always takes before she starts to speak.

“Do you know a lot of Ultimates, Hinata-kun?” is what she asks, her voice as dreamy as usual.

It’s sort of a harsh question unintentionally, since it sort of nags at the parts of him that wishes he could be an Ultimate, would do anything to be an Ultimate, but he shoves that down and keeps his voice casual. (It’s not a big deal, anyway. Nanami affirms him of his worth a lot, and really, he should just… accept that things are the way that they are. But it’s really, really not that easy. Not when everything seems to loom above him, dangling promises of talent and hope).

“Uh, not really?” he answers tentatively. “I mean, I know Koizumi, and I sort of know Kuzuryuu because I’m friends with his sister.” Friends is probably not the right word for it, but being her friend is pretty much impossible. “And I know you, of course. But, I dunno about the others.”

“Mm,” she hums. She focuses back on her game for a while, and Hinata focuses right alongside her, but she ends up speaking again only a few moments later. “I was just thinking… a lot of my classmates would really like you.”

“Oh?” He leans forward, just a bit. “I don’t really know much about them, but maybe?”

It’s not really relevant, in any case, or possible, because I’m a reserve. So, why do I want to entertain this impossibility?

“Well, I can tell you about some of them.” There’s some passion in her voice, underneath the languid sort of pace her words take.

He shrugs. “Sure.”

She opens her inventory as sort of a pause screen, organizing all of the items while talking. “There’s Mioda-san. She’s… sorta loud, but she’s the Ultimate Musician, so that makes sense, I think. She’s really optimistic, she likes bright colors… reminds me of a dancing game… you’d get along with her, probably.” The idea that Hinata could be friends with someone like Mioda Ibuki is unsettling in a hopeless way, but he’s interested in the descriptions regardless. “She gets along well with Pekoyama-san, who’s the Ultimate Swordswoman. She’s really pretty and quiet; she’s defensive over Kuzuryuu-kun, too. Like a Skyrim housecarl, kinda. I remember Komaeda-kun saying something, once, and she was immediately at Kuzuryuu-kun’s defense. I don’t think Komaeda-kun meant it badly, though.”

Hinata tilts his head. “Who’s Komaeda?”

Nanami bites her lip, stacking some potions before saying, “He’s the Ultimate Lucky Student. He’s… sort of an outcast, I think, but he cares about the class a lot. I wish he would talk to us more.” She puffs out her cheeks in a cute way. “You might like him… but you also might hate him. Maybe.”

“Why would I hate him?” From what Hinata’s hearing, maybe dislike would make sense, but hate sort of implies he would have done something… really off.

“Mm… Komaeda-kun has strong views on talent and hope. It might annoy you, but…” she sighs. “I dunno.”

That’s a vague description, but it gives Hinata enough information to sort of… make inferences. Of course, Hinata sort of expected some Ultimates to view talent as superiority, and he knew that some of the adults believed it, but to hear it being an actual thing from someone his age… sort of sucks. At least the rest of the class seems to not agree with it.

But… is Hinata really sure of that?

In any case, he tunes back into the way Nanami continues talking about her classmates, about a sheepish mechanic and a princess she seems to have a slight crush on. He laughs along with her, listens with intrigue and fascination at some of the things her class has done and somehow not gotten expelled for, and feels the sense of peace grow overtime (alongside his quiet bitterness).

All the while, though, part of his mind thinks about Komaeda with a… weird sort of interest.

(And for some reason, Hinata wants to both avoid him as much as possible– which might be a bit harsh, admittedly– and also… maybe meet him.)

–

Hinata doesn’t sleep well.

His sleep patterns vary. Sometimes, he falls asleep in a random place– he’s been found on the floor of the dining hall and at the beach, once, both instances embarrassing– and stays asleep for the better part of a day, barely brushing below twenty hours as he restores his energy. Then, he pushes himself, neglecting rest for three days straight until he downright collapses again.

He tends to get nightmares, too. When he’s sleeping deeply and for a long time, it’s not enough to jar him. When he first woke up from the Neo World Program, though, they were relentless, leaving him paranoid and guilty constantly for all he has done to his friends– his family, now.

His family that he needs to stay awake to care for. His family he has to keep intact– physically and mentally.

(He remembers that, for a week, all he saw in his dreams was a burning warehouse.)

He doesn’t sleep well, working on restocking and labelling all the medications they have in the infirmary, and he finds that none of the others sleep well, either. Some sleep too much, some function on caffeine and nothing else. But there’s one other person on the island that varies with Hinata, not exactly the same but similarly.

Komaeda.

Hinata’s been monitoring Komaeda’s progress closely, almost closer than the way he fusses over the others. Komaeda’s health is precarious, even with the rotting flesh of Enoshima’s arm fully removed from his body, and one of the facets of his lifestyle that directly impacts his not-ideal progress is his shitty sleep schedule.

A simple example: he falls asleep at 4:00 PM, wakes up at around 7:29 PM. He goes to the dining hall, all of the other inhabitants having finished dinner and retired to their rooms for the later parts of the afternoon, and eats a worryingly small portion of dinner. He goes to his room, stays up for hours, and falls again the following day at 10:00 PM, successfully bypassing lunch and repeating the process.

It’s horrible in every possible way– it doesn’t do wonders for his prognoses and mental health, and Hinata doesn’t like the dark circles under his eyes that grow more familiar with each progressing day.

(It doesn’t suit his face. Because, well, Hinata can acknowledge that Komaeda is very, very pretty. But the shadows are… worrying. He still looks beautiful, but he looks more fragile than he’s ever been, even in the green pods, and Hinata wonders why he’s worried in a way beyond medical observation.)

However, there is one benefit to it, a meek silver lining that could hardly be considered one at all: Komaeda and Hinata end up accidentally interacting quite a lot. Komaeda follows lights– buildings with fluorescents open, signalling that Hinata is currently occupying them– and Hinata follows the soft sounds of Komaeda hanging out at the beach, throwing rocks into the ocean or tripping on some ridges and yelping.

The latter ends up happening when he exits the infirmary and sees in the distance a white-haired man face first on the beach shore, and he sighs in a way that isn’t fully exasperated as he walks over to help him out (maybe fond, maybe fond).

Komaeda tilts his face, his cheek still buried in sand, and looks up at Hinata. He decisively accepts his help, straightening himself out and brushing the sand off his pants with a smile. His voice is cheerful– far too cheerful for 5:00 AM– as he says, “Good morning, Hinata-kun! I’m so sorry you had to see me in such a disgraceful way!”

Hinata rolls his eyes. “You weren’t disgraceful. You just tripped. Also, why are you even out here?”

Komaeda’s lips curl slyly. “Do you even have to ask, Hinata-kun?”

“Ah.” Fair enough. “Well, you should, uh, try to get some sleep.”

“Will Hinata-kun get some sleep?”

It’s equally frustrating to talk to Komaeda and get him to do anything… and interesting. There’s also a bit of heat that wants to pour into his cheeks, something he fights with a poker face, at the idea that Komaeda cares about his sleep schedule. Technically, a lot of people on the island do, but it all comes back to the inexplicable feelings he has around the other. In any case, Komaeda’s due for an answer. “I was actually heading back to my cabin to do that.” It’s sort of a lie. Sort of.

(He was probably going to lay awake, staring at the ceiling again. Maybe he’ll think about the other, maybe he’ll think about everything else.)

“Can I come with you?” Komaeda asks.

Hinata squints. “… Why? How would that help either of us sleep?”

“It could be relaxing to be near another person,” Komaeda defends, his logic slightly flawed. “But I understand that being around me is absolutely dreadful, and I shouldn’t impose even the disturbing thought upon another person. I apologize for that, Hinata-kun! I’ll get out of your sight, now!”

“Wait,” Hinata finds himself saying before Komaeda can actually leave. The other stops and looks at him, a curious but not demanding expression in his murky grey eyes. It’s sort of cute. Hinata isn’t sure why, why he looks at the other in that way.

It’s with a defeated sigh that he says, “You can come with me,”

and Komaeda’s eyes light up in a way that’s really, really endearing.

–

The first time he meets Komaeda is a month after his conversation with Nanami.

Stress has settled onto his shoulders, making a permanent residence there, as exams approach at increasingly rapid paces and life-changing emails chase him forward, forward, forward. He finds little enjoyment in his spaces between classes, isolating himself up in his room and hardly having time to reply to any of his friends (not that there’s an overwhelming number of people on that list). Occasionally he takes a break, but these times just remind him that he has so much to do, so much to consider, his entire life might change with a few signatures and-

-he needs a breather.

He ends up leaving half-finished history homework on his tiny desk, nearly tripping over his laundry bin in exhaustion as he makes his way out of the dorms. He figures a small walk might do him some good, since he’s hardly seen the sun as of recent and it might be less intimidating to think through things when he has fresh air to breathe and the soft ambience of nature surrounding him.

He hums to himself for the first part of his walk, careful to stay out of the way of others, but he eventually falls into silence as the number of people around him dwindles. He’s tired– he’s so, so fucking tired– and he should probably be adjusted to fatigue and restless nights, since he’s not exactly new to overworking himself, but he hasn’t. Not fully. And God, he’d probably kill for a nap, for someone to hear him scream everything he thinks, to go to a completely different school for a few days and relax.

But would he even want that? Would he know what to do with so much free time? Would it even be okay, going to a place that would view him as equal, not endlessly lesser than another sector of the school? Would it even make sense to be worth something, when he has spent so long not being worth anything?

It’s in this rumination that he ends up near him and Nanami’s fountain, and he almost expects to see her there…

… but instead, he sees someone else.

The Main Course uniform is the first thing he sees, the red tie loose around the Ultimate’s neck, their jacket still buttoned properly. They must have been out there for a while, since their white hair, unruly atop their head, is slightly ruffled from the wind. Their grey-green eyes that remind Hinata of mercury he had seen in chemistry class is focused on the pavement, but looks up when Hinata’s footsteps grow closer. On their face, there’s a pleasant smile, one that Hinata finds strikingly pretty…

… one that disappears when they make eye contact with Hinata.

He can’t say he expected anything other than this.

“I thought reserve course classes were still in session,” they muse, which is an interesting conversation starter in any case. Paired with the way they were almost glaring at Hinata, it left him with… an unsettling feeling.

“They, uh, aren’t,” he replies eloquently. “They ended a bit ago.”

“Ah.” They smile, slightly, but it looks… more cold than friendly. “Can I get a name? Or should I just refer to you as ‘reserve-kun’?”

Hinata quickly decides he doesn’t like this person. “Uh, Hinata Hajime.”

They nod. “Komaeda Nagito.”

That name is… kind of familiar.

Oh. Oh. That’s the name of Nanami’s classmate. The Ultimate Lucky Student, who has strong views on talent and hope, if he remembers Nanami’s words correctly. Someone that Hinata would either like or hate– and it is strongly veering towards the later– someone who is a bit of an outcast. Someone who Hinata isn’t sure if he should have a lot of pity for, or none at all.

He’s heard more stories since, ones where Komaeda is a background character. He’s gotten the vague idea that aside from his unsettling opinions, he also tends to be an overall concerning individual, with a shocking inferiority complex, calling himself trash near constantly. It seemed to worry Nanami, which in turn worried Hinata.

But from the way this guy is talking, it doesn’t really seem like this guy feels inferior at all. At least, not compared to Hinata. Which is…

… not surprising.

Hinata isn’t really sure how to progress the conversation, especially one that started this oddly, so he figures he should make do with this new information, asking, “Oh, you know Nanami, right?”

“Nanami-san is my classmate, yes.” He tilts his head to the side and sits up a bit straighter. “You must be the reserve she’s friends with, then. In retrospect, I remember she’s mentioned your name once or twice. I thought she was kidding.”

Yeah. Hinata definitely doesn’t like this guy. “Well. She wasn’t.”

“So it seems.”

This conversation is going nowhere. “Well, I’m gonna go. And, uh. Finish my walk. So-”

Before Hinata can leave, Komaeda speaks up. “Don’t you feel awe, Hinata-kun, walking around Hope’s Peak, looking at a school filled with such hope and talent?” He punctuates those words, wrapping his arms around himself and looking up at Hinata. “Doesn’t it put you in your place? Knowing that you’re a stepping stone for hope, just here to further the Ultimates’ abilities? Isn’t it beautiful, so beautiful that you know you’re unworthy of it? Do you have another purpose aside from this, or do you put your value in mindlessly pacing the perimeter of Hope’s Peak Ac-”

“What the hell are you even talking about?” Hinata interrupts. This guy looks really worked up over the random bullshit he’s saying. He’s managed to get under Hinata’s skin really fast– which, yeah, Hinata has kind of a temper, but Jesus Christ.

This must be the whole concerning thing.

Komaeda just smiles wider. “You’re rather disrespectful for a reserve. Shouldn’t you be worshipping me? I mean, I’m utterly worthless in every possible way and deserve to be destroyed like the filth I am– but at least I’m an Ultimate.”

Hinata gives up, walking away from the other and running an agitated hand through his hair. He can hear Komaeda laughing raspily, still at the fountain, and it just forces his steps to go quicker.

(The most aggravating part of all of that is that it hurt. It shouldn’t– the opinion of a slightly-unhinged, annoying, pretty Ultimate shouldn’t hurt him. But it did.

Because there was some truth in that mess of shit he was saying. Hinata is inferior. Hinata would always be inferior to the Ultimates he looks up to– not as much as Komaeda said, but still. The whole being a stepping stone thing, he didn’t get, but… he is unworthy of this place. That much is true. That much hurts.)

He decides, without much hesitation, not to mention the encounter to anyone.

–

“Uh, make yourself at home, I guess,” Hinata says when Komaeda steps into his cottage, his eyes wide as he looks around the scene. Which is fair– Hinata hasn’t exactly had time to clean the place, and he’s sort of a restless sleeper, so it’s a shitshow of a mess, as of current. Komaeda’s room, from what Hinata’s seen, is a lot neater than this, so hopefully he isn’t all that judging.

(Not that Hinata really cares about Komaeda’s thoughts on his cabin.)

“Thank you, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda replies politely, sitting on the edge of the bed. Hinata sits beside him, and they both ignore the bed sheets that are tangled at their feet. “Once again, I apologize for intruding.”

“I invited you,” Hinata points out.

Komaeda frowns a bit. “Well, yes, but-”

“I wouldn’t have invited you if I didn’t want you here. I don’t exactly do things out of pity or kindness when I’ve been awake for over a day,” he states bluntly.

The other stares at him with a weird expression in his eye, something like understanding. “Ah.”

“Yeah.” Hinata kicks the sheets. “Speaking of.”

“Are you going to sleep, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda sort of teases, but there’s a level of seriousness in it. Hinata sort of hates the way the other makes him feel like he’s fucking up by neglecting himself (which is sort of an oxymoron in thought, but). It’s something Komaeda has always done– made Hinata feel like a fuck up, that is– but it’s sort of different, now, when it’s more of a constructive criticism than a blatant attack.

He’s not sure how he feels about the change.

“I was going to talk about you sleeping, actually,” he retorts, clearing his throat.

Komaeda smiles mischievously. “Did you invite me here just to watch me sleep? How flattering, Hinata-kun, but I assure you I would not be able to do harm to others or myself whilst asleep.”

“That’s,” he takes a deep breath, “not what I meant.”

“Ah, okay. Sorry for assuming!”

“It’s fine?” It sounds too much like a question to his ears, but. Whatever. “I just meant, like. I’m sort of concerned about your health.”

“This doesn’t seem like the mood to discuss this,” Komaeda observes.

Hinata blinks. “Was there a specific mood set by any of this?”

Komaeda looks unimpressed. “Hinata-kun, we’re in your room at 5:00 AM, spending time together. I don’t think this is ideal for a medical visit– especially considering how exhausted you are. I thought you were more trying to be a person than a doctor, right now.”

… There’s some truth in that. There’s some pain in that. Hinata doesn’t try to be inhuman in any way, but he knows, deep down, that it’s a difficult task to accomplish. Months of conditioning combined with the instinctual drive for survival resulted in Kamukura’s eternal boredom and apathy to manifest as a defense mechanism, one that Hinata employs in situations that aren’t necessarily defense-requiring. Like administering medicine, or investigating his own psyche, or trying to breach any topic with Komaeda.

He hates it, but it’s part of him, neither nature nor nurture. Just… a trait, forced upon him, one he has to adapt to.

“Hinata-kun?” Komaeda’s smile is thin. “I apologize for overstepping!”

“It’s fine.” He sort of has a headache. Maybe he should sleep. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“Ah, Hinata-kun doesn’t have to apologize! He can do whatever he likes! I still appreciate him regardless!” he reassures enthusiastically, in an almost adoring way.

… And. The thing is.

Hinata has been viscerally aware of Komaeda’s attraction to him ever since he awoke from the Neo World Program. It didn’t take overwhelming amounts of self reflection and memory analysis to realize that Komaeda has had feelings for him, ever since the Despair Era, when neither of them were the person they are now or were before it all began. It’s present in Servant’s endless worship and Komaeda’s subtle (and sometimes, less subtle) affections.

It’s something that Hinata thought, initially, he could just… accept. The fact that the other likes him is simply a fact of life, like the fact that this same individual is still suffering from frontotemporal dementia and lymphoma, like the fact that the other has trauma neither of them can even begin to impact, like the fact that Hinata is privy to entirely too much about the other that he’s hardly aware of.

This is why his yearning and fondness for Komaeda, despite his conflicting thoughts of romance, takes him by surprise. The idea that Komaeda’s affections could be requited is a shocking concept to both of them, one that might be earth-shattering or simply a natural progression of their current behavior. It’s a thought that he keeps in the back of his mind, primarily, believing that not much can be done until Komaeda heals.

And yet, it surfaces in the quiet moments like this, where Komaeda has that energetically adoring expression, where the moonlight accentuates his face in a pretty way that will only get more beautiful with daybreak, where Hinata is just staring at him mindlessly. It surfaces like this, and Hinata wonders, to himself, if he loves the other.

If this is how it comes to him.

“Hinata-kun?”

Or maybe it’s just a lapse.

“I’m tired,” he replies, which isn’t a proper response but it is the only thing he can find himself saying, right then.

Komaeda nods and starts to stand up, “Ah, okay! I apologize if I bored you, I know I can tend to do that. I hope you sleep well, Hinata-kun-”

Hinata catches his wrist.

“Maybe,” he inhales. “You can stay? And sleep beside me?”

Komaeda’s face shifts, emotions spreading across his face like auroras, but they’re quickly stifled by another smile, one that seems a bit more genuine. “Ah, of course! Whatever Hinata-kun wants.” He takes the eagerness Komaeda exhibits while taking off his shoes and scooting to the center of the bed as confirmation that Komaeda wants this as well.

It’s odd how Hinata has the courage to ask something like that, despite everything.

Hinata draws the curtains closed, hoping that the sun won’t wake them up, and he slips beside Komaeda in bed. The other adjusts well to sleeping in someone else’s bed, all things considered, but he looks fairly stiff all the same. Hinata knows there’s nothing he can do to change his slight discomfort– anything he could do would be a bit too courageous, and he’s already expressed a lot of bravery considering that he’s more contemplative than rash, at the moment.

So he lays down beside him, facing the other who faces away, and he finds himself tracing the contours of his body (innocuous and entirely unrelated to medical concerns), the way his hair curls against his nape, how his hands lay at his sides. It calms him to study the other, and he wonders if that is love, if all of this is love, even if he has a thousand other concerns.

It takes a pathetically short five minutes before he says, “Komaeda…?”

“Yes, Hinata-kun?” Komaeda still sounds awake. He wonders if he was planning on sleeping at all.

He breathes out a soft exhale. “Can we talk?”

–

He does not see Komaeda again until after despair overcomes the world.

But by then, both him and Komaeda are separate people. The memories prior to the creation of himself– Kamukura Izuru, that being– are vague and only documented in a diary that Hinata Hajime struggled to maintain. And Servant, while not suffering direct memory loss of everything regarding Hope’s Peak Academy, does not appear to want to verbally recall anything regarding the school to Kamukura. This could be from lack of trust. This could be his nature.

They meet in a bloodied street, bodies scattered across the asphalt in an unpleasing way. From an aesthetic standpoint, it is disgusting, but Kamukura does not necessarily dislike it. He does not dislike anything.

He only finds this despair base.

Servant’s hands are dirtied from crusted blood, which is to be expected. His hair is awry, his face in a considerably tormented frown, and his attire is dirtied aside from his chain that drags obnoxiously loud on the pavement.

Kamukura clears his throat.

His face shifts drastically when he sees Kamukura, which is the most interesting part of his appearance, as of current, and he immediately drops to his knees. It is certainly an interesting display, yet predictable, and Servant’s voice is raspy when he says, “Kamukura Izuru.”

“So you have heard of me.” That is understandable. The only reason Kamukura is at this location, after all, is because Enoshima requested prior to her death that Kamukura take ownership of Servant. She had considered it a present to him, but Kamukura finds nothing to be a gift, especially when it is at her hands.

One of her hands is severed and attached in place of where Servant’s would be. Expectable.

“You’re the Ultimate Hope,” he breathes. “I- I have been looking for you-”

“How convenient,” he cuts off his likely obnoxious rambling. He does not want to hear about his godhood from the lens of a worshipper. “As I was looking for you.”

Servant’s face flushes. “You were looking for me? Ahaha, I’m sure you must be mistaken.”

“Enoshima stated that in her death, you were to be my property. Transitive ownership.” His face twists at the sound of her name, which is not necessarily expected, but can be easily explained retroactively. “You are mindlessly idling, as of current. You plan to travel to Towa City, but have not done so yet. You have killed seventeen people directly in your time of being a Remnant of Despair, but you are growing bored.”

Despite his wide eyes and droll expression, Servant is clever enough to catch on. “You would like me to travel with you, Kamukura-kun? I warn you, I am useless in every possible way and unworthy of your presence.”

Kamukura glares at him. “I will determine that.”

“… Understood.” Servant hesitates before standing up, and there is shocking amounts of excitement in his expression. “I apologize for being overeager, I’ve never travelled with someone like this before. Someone like you before.”

“That is to be expected,” Kamukura says as he begins to walk, stepping over corpses with grace as the Remnant beside him trips and stumbles, babbling about despair and hope and talent all the way.

From there, an attachment forms. They continue to travel in this manner, relocating from place to place with little but each other’s companionship (and what they can find, in this cataclysmic scenario– assorted piles of canned vegetables and month-old water bottles). Along the way grows learning, basic answers to questions that benefit both of them only slightly, though prove to be boring, as Kamukura does not have a favorite color or movie or food. But the basis of small talk leads to a more expanded exploration of morality, of death and life and the liminality of such matters, philosophy and physics and their prediction for where the world will be.

Kamukura discovers, then, that Servant is not capable of matching him in intelligence. However, he nears close to having this ability, exhibiting his cleverness in a distinctly separate way than how Enoshima enforced her analytical prowess upon her victims. It is refreshing, to have this difference. It is refreshing, by extension, to have him.

That is how the evolution of their relationship begins.

Sexual ties between them have been present from the start. Servant is poor at concealing his overwhelming attraction to the other, and Kamukura has curiosities he was not interested in exploring with Enoshima. Thus begins tumultuous, albeit safe to an extent, exploratory intercourse, which Kamukura finds not particularly boring.

Then becomes an inherent domesticity in residing together, in sharing beds (although, Servant only allows himself to sleep beside Kamukura if he is particularly in pain, that day. Kamukura does not necessarily mind if Servant continues to sleep beside him, but it is a matter of principle that is tedious to undo, especially with no distinct want to commit effort to it). Along with sleeping together, there is having meals together, defending each other from robotic Monokumas when it becomes necessary, and even reading together.

It is all not particularly interesting. It is all not particularly boring. It exists in a grey area that Kamukura struggles to define.

He dislikes struggling.

There is a particular day, once, that he would consider lucky (were he to indulge in this thought towards Servant, the other would likely break down) due to the numerous realizations had. The primary one, and the most convoluted one by far, is the realization that he is perhaps infatuated with the other.

It comes whilst Servant is asleep, his body bare aside from the marring of bruises and hickeys, thin sheets layered in dust resting atop him. Kamukura observes him from where he sits at the edge of the bed, admiring the way the red sky highlights Servant’s body in an almost rosy way, porcelain skin glimmering with red contours that made the Ultimate Artist in Kamukura transfixed. Part of him desired to reach out and trace his body on impulse– and it would not be the first time he sought touch out of poorly placed impulse. However, he refrains.

A small part of him– a romantic, likely, in all but practice– finds that touching him may, perhaps, detract from the natural beauty he exudes. It is not like Kamukura is anything other than manmade.

This is a thought that crosses his mind often. Rather, the latter is. However, with Servant in his life as a catalyst, the frequency of such thoughts rapidly accelerates, and he finds a sense of permanence in the other. Something he is rather interested in exploring, given the time. There are many, many inquiries he would indulge in, given the time.

They are not given time.

He had prepared an injection in advance, one to make Servant unconscious for approximately 48 hours. It is enough time to execute a procedure that would remove Servant’s memories of Kamukura, a similar procedure that he will attempt to repeat on himself (he has done thorough research into lobotomies due to his experiences. Even without this research, it would not be a particularly difficult task. However, his emotions pose a hindrance). He is aware that he should inject Servant now, as, according to his predictions and intuition, he has confidence in the fact that the Future Foundation will locate them within that period of time.

He would like to evade them. He knows he is able to, that he has a capacity to outwit them, that Servant would heed every command necessary to guarantee their survival. After all, there is no certainty in the prospect that the Future Foundation would keep them alive.

Despite this, Kamukura is… curious. He is intrigued as to what the Future Foundation will do, once they capture him and Servant, and he knows that they cannot evade the Future Foundation forever. They will grow bored.

It is regrettable, he thinks as he injects Servant with the serum, stroking his hair for purely selfish purposes as he does so. It is regrettable that they did not have infinite time together. However, Servant is dying to his own illness, and Kamukura is dying, metaphorically, to the boredom that he can not fully stave away, even with his agreeable companionship. It is poetic, in the same sense, that they will be captured and perhaps be executed before they could fully breach the barrier of worship and love, something Kamukura is not certain he could attain.

In all senses, it is over, and Servant will not remember him by the time he awakes in the grasp of the Future Foundation.

(A part of Kamukura recalls their first meeting with feigned nostalgia, remnants of the emotion that must have existed before his creation, and he wonders– or, cynically, he hopes– that he may meet the other again, and finish the life they began.)

–

Komaeda rolls over and smiles, slightly sleepy. “What do you want to talk about, Hinata-kun?” After a pause, he asks, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No,” he says with a little too much force. “I’ve just had some. Things on my mind. That I want to talk about?”

It’s sort of a half-truth, because it feels wrong to say that it’s been something on his mind. Because it has been, and it has been for a while– but he hardly knows if what he’s feeling is love, if it’s worth indulging in this when he has so much to work on. If he can even be certain of his thoughts at all.

But he wants to talk to Komaeda– maybe to get perspective, and finally decide.

So, he closes his eyes and starts talking. “I was thinking about the simulation, and before. More specifically, us.”

He can hear the bitterness in Komaeda’s voice when he says, “Ah. How I betrayed and belittled you?”

“Not exactly.” But it’s part of it. “… You said in the simulation that you were in love with me, right?”

There’s a pause. One that’s long enough that Hinata almost wants to open his eyes, but he needs to isolate himself in his thoughts temporarily, dissect the words and his feelings and come to a conclusion. It’s something he’s good at (but love isn’t survival games, or class trials. If they were, he would have figured this out a long time ago, back when Nanami was still around).

When Komaeda eventually speaks, it’s brief but telling. “… Yes.”

“And. You didn’t like me much before all of that, but… as Servant, you-”

“Worshipped and admired Kamukura-kun, yes.” He sounds almost nervous. Komaeda rarely sounds like this, and it’s almost enough to stop pushing. “… Why do you ask? Don’t you already know this, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata sighs. “Yeah, technically. But I’ve been thinking about it more, and…” he opens his eyes, now. Komaeda’s face is vacant– no smile, no frown, just a straight line that wavers if he stares hard enough. His eyes are filled with emotion he can’t uncover, emotions he doesn’t want to uncover. But… he watches them carefully regardless, makes note of how they shift. “We’ve had an interesting relationship, throughout all our time knowing each other. In our one encounter back at Hope’s Peak, we didn’t get along, and things in Despair were… intimate, yet twisted.”

“That’s one way to consider it,” Komaeda says, and it isn’t quite hatred in his voice, but something close. Something Hinata knows not to take personally.

“And. I’ve been thinking about where it leaves us, now. And– I mean, it’s something in the back of my head, but not really. Filling all my thoughts? It just sort of came up while we were sitting here, before I said we should sleep, and sometimes I think about it when I’m not working around the island. So it’s sort of…” a dormant thing, has been in the back of my mind forever because I put it there, because I didn’t want to accept that I like you, because I’m too afraid and I know you are too, but there’s something about you, something about this, and I’m curious to know where it goes- “Yeah.”

Komaeda nods. “I see.”

“I think you know where I’m going with this.”

There’s a silence. Then- “I’d rather not.”

“… Rather not what?”

He already knows, but he wants to hope, wants to hope that Komaeda will allow himself this, despite everything. And yet…

… “Rather not believe what you are implying, Hinata-kun.” And the bitterness is directed at him this time, but Komaeda has always tore at him claws to hide something else, whether it be personal insecurity or infatuation or fear. Hinata thinks it might be all three, now. “You are aware of my love for you, how you could use it to your benefit, how you could disregard me and I would-” his breath catches.

“Komaeda?”

“… hardly complain,” he finishes. “I would hardly complain if you used me, because it’s you. You’re aware that you could make this so easy– and you aren’t even certain of this. I’ve been certain ever since I knew you, even when I hardly knew anything about you, even when I stayed with you to wake up on that island, I knew. But you don’t, and you could make it so easy and just give up on me, because it’s not like I would love you less or hate you more, but you’re acting on impulse. You rarely act on impulse, so why are you…”

There are tears in Komaeda’s eyes.

“… When I first met you,” Hinata starts. “I thought you were pretty. An asshole, but pretty. In despair, Kamukura was interested in you, and he was bored of everything else, even her. And he knew your worship, and that was the most boring part of you, to him, because he didn’t like being treated like a god, not by you. And… and in the simulation, I remember the betrayal I felt when I knew one of the only people I trusted turned their back on me. And- and when I saw your corpse-”

Komaeda shakes his head, but Hinata doesn’t stop. “-When I saw your corpse, I was so fucking pissed, because you’re smart and fucked up and I almost missed you that trial, despite everything. And despite everything, now when I woke you up, when I had to run into the infirmary and out of it and had to do all those fucking psychodives to get you out, I thought it was worth it.”

“Hinata-kun.”

“I thought– I knew, and I know– that you are worth it.”

And even though Komaeda’s stare is intimidating, and even though Hinata’s so uncertain of everything right now, he’s confident in that.

He’s never been more confident in anything, actually.

–

When Hinata wakes up on an unfamiliar island, with an aching head and endless questions about his surroundings, he’s greeted by a stranger, with a slight smile on their face. They had slightly tostled white hair, cloudlike and wispy, that falls just above their dim green eyes, and they have a slender yet alluring physique that Hinata almost finds pretty, in his dazed state.

After they confirm that Hinata is awake, they introduce themself. “… I’m Komaeda Nagito. Nice to meet you.”

Hinata accepts the hand he offers him and stands up, brushing sand off his pants (why are they at a beach?) and replying, “Hey, I’m Hinata Hajime.”

Komaeda leads him around the island, introducing him to all the others that had left him behind, unconscious, on the beach (he can’t really blame him. He’s still embarrassed about how he just… passed out. At least Komaeda isn’t judging him for it). He offers his own quips and commentary about the island, one Hinata finds insightful, if not slightly odd at times, and he begins to develop a trust for the other.

Sort of. Because, well, it’s not like he can really trust anyone, when they all woke up on a random fucking island with no idea of what’s going on, aside from some random shit a rabbit tells them. But, for as weird Komaeda can sometimes be and the weird situation they’re in, he establishes him as trustworthy early on. Someone to rely on, even when everything goes to hell.

(And littered in there, far enough in the back of his head that he sort of forgets about it, he is sort of infatuated with the other. In a super base way– because he’s a teenager, c’mon– but, still. Komaeda’s pretty, and he’s friendly, and he thinks there’s some significance in that.

Of course, everything changes when the first murder occurs. When the trial happens, and truths are revealed. When everything spirals downwards for the rest of their ‘island vacation’, and Hinata realizes that Komaeda should have never been trusted at all.

… But he can’t bring himself to hate him, despite everything. Even when he’s faced with his corpse.)

–

There is a long silence that fills the room, after his admission.

It’s understandable, considering that Komaeda… has never quite had anyone stay by his side as long as Hinata has. He’s probably never considered the possibility of requited love or care of anything, has never been able to reconcile with the idea that Hinata wants to stay despite the fucked-up mess of trauma and disease his brain is filled with. He probably finds himself vacant, like Hinata does, sometimes, like every quirk about him that makes him distinctive and worthy of love is completely null, and that he is cursing Hinata by being around him this long.

It’s more fucked up than Hinata can sometimes conceptualize, but. As he said, it’s worth it.

Hinata breaks the silence, knowing that he should be patient with the other, who has had his mentality partially shattered in a brief period of time, but slightly worried that the progress they’ve made would fall at a stalemate in complete silence. “… Komaeda?”

“Hinata-kun.” His voice is both empty and emotional, and it leaves an ache in Hinata’s chest. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand, still. I’m not…” he trails off.

“You are worth it,” Hinata insists, because he knows the way that Komaeda thinks, knows where his mind is going. “We don’t have to do anything, or be anything, if you don’t want to. I just… thought you should know, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot, so. Thought it was worth saying.”

“Worth,” Komaeda echoes quietly. His laugh is at the same volume, raspy and choked. “I… I really like you, Hinata-kun, but I can’t let you endanger yourself.”

Hinata shakes his head. “Your luck can’t affect me badly, remember? I’m lucky too.”

“It has in the past. Before you remember. When me and Kamukura-kun were together, and how bad luck and consequent good luck would follow us around. He thought it was interesting. I knew we weren’t safe. And we weren’t.” He sighs, and Hinata wants to reach out and brush his cheek with his fingertips, ensure that he isn’t just a ghost. “If I hurt you, Hinata-kun-”

“You won’t,” Hinata argues.

Komaeda raises his voice, slightly. “But if I do, then I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. Knowing that you chose to have something with me, despite all your responsibilities and all the risks I bring to you just by existing… it would kill me, Hinata-kun. I’m already dying and I’ve done it once, but… it would really, really kill me. I don’t think I would be able to lose you. I don’t…” He looks so tired.

Hinata reaches out, then, and intertwines their fingers. Komaeda doesn’t push him away, and he takes it as a good sign. “You aren’t going to lose me. And I know we can’t be certain of what’ll happen in the future, but… I think we deserve something good. So much bad shit has happened, and we’re healing and everything, but I think we also deserve to find something like… hope. In each other. Y’know? And, obviously, it’s only if you want. I’m not gonna, like, make you date me, or something.” He squeezes his hand. “But, I don’t want you to keep yourself from someone you want– something we want– out of fear. We’re not going to die, Komaeda. And even if we did… every second that led to it would be worth it.”

Komaeda’s eyes flutter shut. It hurt to see the pain in his eyes, but his scrunched eyebrows and shaky lip is almost worse. “I… I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you want to do?” Hinata asks gently.

“I…” he cuts himself off, thinking in silence as Hinata rubs circles into his palm. Eventually, his eyes open, and his expression is tentative and a bit scared, but Hinata can see some hope in it. It’s almost enough to make him smile, but he fights it off and waits for Komaeda to finish. “I… I want this. But, I don’t deserve it.”

“You want it,” Hinata reminds him softly, “and I want it. So, I think it’s okay for us to have, yeah?”

He hesitates, but eventually says, “… Maybe.”

“Maybe,” he repeats, and then he gives him a slight smile. “I can work with maybe.”

Komaeda responds with a fleeting smile, one that makes Hinata let go of his hand and tug him forward into a warm embrace. Komaeda’s face nestles into the other’s shoulder, and he can hear a muffled voice whisper, “I love you, Hinata-kun. I really do.”

A weight he thought would permanently be on his shoulders disappears, and he breathes out a long sigh of relief as he tightens his grip on Komaeda’s waist. And, with a voice that echoes himself through all of the years of knowing Komaeda, through the stress and irritation and curiosity and trust, in a journey that was just as much his as it was theirs, he says, “I love you too.”

Even after everything.

#komahina #komahina secret exchange #fanfiction

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dejilmcabrough · 4 years ago

Text

Akira’s POV

I heard that after the hero defeated the calamity, he went rogue. I also heard he went and left Hateno to go to the faron province to worship the Zonai? My job after awakening from my 118 years of slumber is to bring him back. WOW, I’m Zelda’s older sister, why am I having to prove I am “good enough”. They didn’t even give me new clothes.

I rode my black steed Hocus. Well the descendant of him. God it’s hot. I wipe sweat off my forehead. We crossed a bridge, I slowed him down. I hear rustling. Suddenly feeling a pain and a jolt, I feel my body hit the dirt ground. I open my eyes while gasping for breath, I see sharp blue eyes pierce through mine. My breath hitched in my throat.

Link. It’s the hero of legend. The blonde pulled me up by my hair. “Ow, ow ow, that hurts!” I cried as he grabbed the reins of my horse and he made me get up off the ground. He pushed me in front of him and told me with a raspy breath, “move.”

I start to walk and I ask, “where are we going?” Silence. He said nothing. We go through a gate to a cave. He pushed me to the ground and my hands were cut open from the rugged ground. I hiss from the pain.

His sharp voice asked where I came from. “Did you come from the Castle?” He spit. “y-yes..I’m the first daughter of the Hylian royal family..Akira..” “They don’t have another daughter, the only one is Zelda.” He snarled. God he is horrifying.

“I am the first daughter. I am 118 years old and I will not be treated this way by you.” I snarled back as I got off the ground. My grey royal dress was tattered. “I just woke up from the coma, and the first thing I had to do was come get you.” I sighed. He looked at me like I had two heads.

He glared at me with intense daggers. “I’m not here to take you back, I know just how bad the hylians are.” I patted my legs off and looked up at him. He stayed silent. “Even though I was born an abomination, I actually have full sheikah blood.” I unzipped my dress a little from the back. I showed him the thick black tattoo that was on my shoulders. It was the Sheikah eye.

He reached out and skimmed the tattoo with his finger tips. “I see..” Link straightened up and nodded. “I understand, so you won’t try to make me go back?” I nodded slightly. Then he looked guilty. “Sorry for pulling your hair and pushing you on the ground..” He looked embarrassed. “It’s okay I would have done something similar if someone tried to make me leave” I laugh.

Link then told me to follow him. Hesitantly, I follow him down into the dark cave. The blonde led me to a large room with potions, water and all sorts of survival things. He tells me to sit down while he rummages through some jars. I sit down carefully and wince at my hands.

He then sat down beside me. “Give me your hands.” He demanded and I gave him them. He opened a jar with pink cream looking stuff. “It’s an elixir, but I tweaked it to be a cream.” The boy looked intently down at my red smeared palms. He skimmed over them, remembering every cut he created.

I sucked in my breath when he applied the pink stuff. The scent of petals invaded my nostrils. The cream was chilly and so I winced. Seeing my reaction, he softly blows on the cuts. He thought it was hurting. Why did…

I blushed awkwardly. He finished applying the petal scented stuff. “...what is this stuff made of?” Sharply he said, “Fairy Tonic, I had put fairies in a cook pot and made the perfect elixir out of it.” I sweatdrop. The blonde looked up and laughed at my reaction. “It’s true though” He commented.

I watch the cuts disappear and look up with a beaming smile. “Thanks for healing me,” he smiles back. “No problem” he says shortly. Then he waited a moment before talking again. “You’re not so bad, Akira.” “You’re not as bad as I originally thought either” I laugh while I trace over my palm. He looked away. “I’m glad you’re not a snotty princess that tells me what to do when all i’m doing is protecting you” He laughs, then went silent.

“Are you okay?” I ask while putting my hand on his shoulder. “Yeah I’m fine, thanks.” He sharply replies. His sapphire eyes dart down to the ground. I feel extremely awkward. He takes his skull helmet off and sits it on the ground beside him. Then he raked his hand through his hair. His hair was so long.

I then scoot closer. “Can I braid your hair?” I ask weary. He nods and I stand up, moving behind him. I softly raked my hands through his blonde hair. I assumed his hair would be at least a little dirty, but his hair is clean and a pretty golden color. I slowly braid his long soft hair and as soon as I finish the braid, I ask for a piece of lace. He hands me a lace piece and I tie it around his hair.

He looked up at me and I smiled. “I’m done, it looks really good!” He then hands me a...Sheikah slate… “take a picture so i can see” He responds. I nod, then ask where the picture thing was. He turned and pointed at this icon. I nod.

I opened the icon and it made a noise that startled me. I zoomed onto his hair and took a clear realistic picture of his braid. “Here Link!” I give it to him, and he intently looks at the picture. “Good job Akira, it’s perfect” He looked up at me and beamed with his toothy grin.

I blush at his cute face. I then look down at myself subconsciously. I am a literal hot mess. He looks down at what I'm looking at. “What?” He asks curiously. “Sorry, i just noticed how much of a mess I am” I laugh nervously. He nods slowly. “Here” He stands up quickly. He digs through a bag and pulls out an outfit that is a little revealing.

He pulled me up and handed me the outfit. “There’s a spring farther back into the cave, you can bathe there” He smiles. “Well, Is there a soap I can use?” I inquired. He nodded and said it was already there. “I can show you there if you want” He shrugged. I say that would be perfect. He took my hand and led me to the spring. It was dim, and the water was a beautiful shade of blue. It was glowing like foxfire mushrooms.

“Thank you Link, you can go now..” I say. He lets go of my hand and walks back the other direction. “See you when you’re done, Akira” He waved. I waited until he’s completely gone and took my tattered clothes off. I walked into the spring and it was warm. The soap was on the edge of the pool.

I wash up and soak for a while. As soon as I was done, I rinsed myself and dried off. Tip toeing over the clothes, I pick them up. No wonder they looked revealing, They were also Barbarian clothes. I put them on and they were a perfect fit.

I put on the shoes and picked up my clothes that were 101 YEARS OLD. I walked out of the spring room and saw Link picking up stuff around the cave. I call and he looks up. He sets a bunch of random stuff in the corner. “It suits you very well,” He commented. His face seemed more pink than normal.

“Well, uh I can braid your hair too” He said as he grabbed a wooden comb from the pile. I nodded. Link sat me down on clothes and sat behind me. The boy gently combed my hair straight and he fishtailed my hair. “How can you do that, Link?” I asked curiously. “My mother taught me before the calamity” He responded.

He took a picture of it as well and showed me. “It looks so much better than my braid..” I say flabbergasted. He chuckles. Then he looked rigged. “What's w-” “Do you want paint on too?” He interrupted me looking interested. “I guess, what colors do you have?” I ask looking back at him. “Any color you’d like” He replied.

“I would like a purple color, kinda like yours” She said as she looked at his markings. “I see” He said as he stood up AGAIN and said while blending paint, “i think a more vibrant purple color will suit your skin tone” He mixed some blue, red with already existing purple making it more purple.

He walked over with a jar full of paint. “First I'll go from your face, down ok?” he asked while he dipped his fingers into the jar. “Okay” I say while feeling butterflies in my stomach. He stares intently at my cheeks as he presses his cold painted finger on parts of my face. “As soon as I’m done, I'll show you on the reflecting glass” I nod, as his hands trail from my chin to my neck.

He made three dots on my shoulders and re-dipped his finger into the jar. He drew some lines and circles on my arms and a small triangle on the top of my wrist. Then he repeated onto the other arm. Then he made a swirl on my stomach just above my belly button. I blush at the touch. “Turn around” He said while making more purple lines on my body.

I turn around and he makes a nice hum sound. “Your actual tattoo is so detailed, is it like a birthmark or..” I nod. “Yeah it’s a birthmark, everyone thought it was so weird it was there when I was born, since I was apparently 100% Hylian” I giggle.

Link then makes some more symbols on my back, but I don't know what they are. “Stand up and turn around again” I do as he says and he puts paint on my thighs. They were lines and circles.

“I think you’re done, Akira” He says as he wipes his stained hand on a cloth on the ground. “Okay, can I see?” I asked curiously. “Yeah follow me” He said. I followed him like a lost puppy until We were in front of a reflection. We looked like we were fixing to burn down a village. “Here I forgot something” He disappeared and appeared again a few minutes later with a helm.

It was a cat skull with red braids and tribal ornaments. “It’s lovely,” I say as he puts it on my head. “It suits you very well, Akira” He smiles at me through the reflection.

“Should we go find something to eat?” Link asked as he took my hand and dragged me outside. “Well I guess I'm hungry” I say as I look around. “What are you thinking, big guy?” I ask as I skim the jungle. “Birds, deer, squirrels..Anything” He said as he equipped himself with a bow and an axe. “What should I use?” I ask while I pet my horse.

“Here is a dagger and light weighted bow, it's ok if you break either of those though” He said as he handed me the weapons. “..okay, so what do I use on what?” I asked. It dawned on him. “You don’t know how to use weapons huh?” I smiled. “Nope!” I said as I sheathed my dagger.

Link hopped on my horse and lended me hand to get up on there as well. I took his hand and sat in front of him. I had one hand on the rein and one of the saddle pommel. Link grabbed the opposite side of the rein, and his other hand rested on my hip. I went a little ridged. I tapped Hocus’s sides with my feet stirrup. “Okay we are going to an area that is peaceful, so we can ruin the lives of animals! HAH'' He laughed maniacally.

-TIME SKIP AFTER THE HUNTING SHENANIGANS-

I held all the bird eggs and Link lugged the deer bodies and bird bodies, onto Hocus, before letting him carry it back. “You are literally so weird Akira” Link laughed remembering what she did twenty mins later. “Sorry I threw a bird at you Link, I thought you were gonna shoot it” She giggled.

“You threw it in my face Akira!” he yelled, chuckling afterward. “Well how was I supposed to know my strength!” I yelled back laughing. Link and I walked beside Hocus. We walked to the cave, before Link grabbed the meat off of the horse before going into the cave. After gently setting down the raw meat, I pulled out a few carrots for Hocus. “Be right back!” I yelled.

I greet Hocus and pet him. He neighs with delight before searching me for food. I give him the carrot laughing.

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bisluthq · 4 years ago

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*WARNING Domestic violence topic* Could you explain to me why seven could sound queer?, Like I can see how many Taylor songs can be interpreted in a queer way, but with seven I can't see it, like for me it's clearly about domestic violence and the only possible queer thing I can hear it's the closet part...but in this particular case I do not think it refers to sexuality but to literally hiding form your abusive parents. Sorry if this was asked before or if it's disrespectful to ask.

So firstly let me just say that victims of abuse who hear that in the song are so valid. And I’m not here to “take away” a song that speaks to that experience. If it brings you comfort and relief, that’s amazing.

Do I think Taylor meant it as a song about domestic violence or escaping from that? Honestly, no. Because she described herself in LPSS as longing for that time in her life and talked about how she misses being able to throw tantrums and feel more freely and without judgement; in her head she’s thinking about this period in her life very fondly. Now, this is one of those death of the author moments because if you’re an abuse survivor who found comfort in this you... shouldn’t care wtf Taylor meant by it, what matters is what it means to you. Same as how if betty speaks to your sapphic teenage love triangle, it shouldn’t matter that Taylor imagined James as a boy.

But yeah, so for Taylor it was not meant to be about abuse. It was about feeling stuff more freely. And let’s take a look and examine at why it feels so fucking gay to... like... basically every queer woman.

Please picture me

In the trees

I hit my peak at seven

Okay so Taylor is setting up a narrator - presumably herself. Especially in the context of her hyperconfessional marketing and the LPSS explanation we’re literally meant to picture Tay. But tbh that doesn’t matter so much - it could be any little girl. This little girl is “in the trees”... which isn’t really where little girls are supposed to be. In these very first lines Tay is setting up a little tomboy character.... and then she says “I hit my peak at seven” - ergo this rugrat period of abandon, where I was free to play in the trees, is “my peak”. It was the best time in “my” life.

Lots of people feel that, it’s not inherently gay, but for queer women - I don’t know about other shades of queer but suspect yes - childhood often represents even greater freedom than to hets because it’s before we felt deviant. There was nothing to compare ourselves to. Sure, we might’ve played families in het couples like heteronormativity is felt by children too, but that kind of thing was largely asexual and we didn’t know yet that other people felt differently about it all.

Like I only realized I was different in late middle school and I didn’t have the word for it for ages tbh. Like I just knew I didn’t get the fuss about boys. When I was a little kid? I didn’t know what the fuss was really. It was a kind of “peak” so yeah, I feel that in my bones.

Feet

In the swing

Over the creek

I was too scared to jump in, but I, I was high

In the sky

Here we have her playing, once again with reckless abandon - she’s standing on a swing (naughty!) and swinging high over a creek. But she’s slightly nervous. I relate to that too, it’s not a gay thought it’s a little kid thought I think - because while she’s enjoying her freedom and the chance to play, there’s an awareness of the risk. That’s a lot of childhood and what makes her such a greater songwriter is how she’s able to capture these feelings we’ve all had before, in this case the rumbunctious nature of free play paired with the cautious nervousness of knowing you can fall.

With Pennsylvania under me

I mean this simple makes it more autobiographical for her, like if we didn’t know her was her that was the me , now we really do.

Are there still beautiful things?

This is speaks to her nostalgia for this time period and serves to highlight how much she misses it. She wishes she was young and innocent and had that freedom of playing in the trees and above the creek and feeling like she’s flying just because she’s standing upright on the swing. This is meant to be her “peak”.

Sweet tea in the summer

Cross your heart, won't tell no other

The first line is setting up mood again, it’s innocence and suburbia and freedom and the hot days of summer vacation. The second is a common English phrase - for the ESL folks - that means “let’s keep a secret”. It’s extremely common for little girls especially to have secrets with each other. “You’re my best friend and I’ll tell you something I haven’t told anyone else before but cross your heart you won’t tell anyone else” is the kind of thing that has probably happened at a sleepover for every woman (gay or straight). So Tay’s whispering and telling secrets to her best friend aged seven in the heat of the summer and the neat rhymes kinda remind me of those clapping games you play as a kid.

And though I can't recall your face

I still got love for you

Again, I think this isn’t specific to gay kids necessarily - it’s that idea of having lifelong affection for your first best friend even when you don’t know where they are, can’t imagine them in adulthood, maybe can’t even remember their surname and frankly don’t really want to or care... but you still have warm feelings towards them.

Your braids like a pattern

Love you to the moon and to Saturn

So the friend is a girl. And here’s where the non wlw readers will have to work with me a little bit because as I’ve explained before a very common, enteral part of the queer female experience is obsession with other girls’ femininities. We notice things like hair and clothes and makeup on girls far more than straight girls seem to and waaay more than het guys do. A friend of mine who is v butch noticed like minor shit that any of us change in our appearance. Describing in detail a girl’s appearance feels - on a gut level - pretty gay. Now this isn’t a detailed description, but she links this physical trait - this pretty, braided hair her friend has - to loving her.

Now, she is a child in this story. This isn’t a sexual kind of thing in the child’s mind. She’s obviously not “in love” with her friend aged seven. But she is saying her deep, overwhelming love for her friend is inextricably linked - via rhyme scheme - to her feminine appearance.

This incredibly close, quasi homoerotic friendship is a near universal wlw experience and I’m sorry but it differs from straight girls’ close friendships because it’s... a lot. It is “love you to the moon and to Saturn” and obsessing over her clothes and hair and little habits.

And there’s no vocab for this, nothing to prepare you for it and nobody bats an eye because little girls are supposed to be friends with one another but like... you’re way overinvested and often that other girl isn’t and starts to drift away because she isn’t having this language free connection and it’s legit heartbreaking.

Passed down like folk songs

The love lasts so long

This childhood friendship becomes an anecdote, a moment of folkloric storytelling, but it never completely fades away and tapping into this first - not quite sexual but very sapphic - experience is super easy.

And I've been meaning to tell you

I think your house is haunted

Your dad is always mad and that must be why

And I think you should come live with

Me and we can be pirates

This sets up the narrative some people - I understand where y’all are coming from and I am here for it - hear of domestic abuse. The thing is, it’s not Tay’s character who is getting abused. Tay is a small child - and she’s envious of and nostalgic for that era of her life, when she thought that her best best best friend’s asshole dad was simply reacting to ghosts. It speaks to an innocence her character has which may not be shared by her friend, the girl with the braids.

But Tay is innocent and she says “come with me” and run away so we can be pirates together. Now, on a very basic and superficial pop culture level it’s worth noting Keira Knightley in POTC is pretty fundamental to any queer millennial woman’s sexual awakening. However, that’s not what Tay’s referencing here. She’s saying, at least on some level, let’s run away and be gender nonconforming. Again, she’s a small child. She doesn’t know why she wants that. But she doesn’t tell her friend “let’s run away and be princesses” - she wants to be a pirate. It links to the first scene in the song of her being a tomboy in the trees and on the swing, honestly. There were also a number of cross dressing female pirates, many of whom were gay back in the day so it’s a subtle nod to how a lot of childhood fantasies actually are rooted in possible historical fact.

But also come on, every queer girl wanted to be a pirate idk why really we just did. Like I say I can explain it as a desire not to conform to gender norms but it’s also just... another weirdly common fantasy that she’s tapping into.

Like idk this song is so fucking gay and it’s not trying to be but every line is just... felt in my bones. Like little me is seen by this song.

Then you won't have to cry

Or hide in the closet

This is obvi the line people go on about and look. The friend’s dad is clearly an asshole like that’s established. But the line has a double meaning. She’s saying if you run away with me to be a pirate on the high seas you won’t have to cry anymore and you won’t hide in the closet. It’s an innocent thought but it’s also a double meaning, right? You won’t be abused, you won’t be sad. And you’ll be with me out of the closet. It could’ve been “hide under the bed” or “behind the curtains”. But she picked closet. And that word gives this verse a second meaning, which is particularly palpable given as I say this is a very gay song from a thematic standpoint.

And just like a folk song

Our love will be passed on

Again, this is a deeeeep love. This is someone she wants to run away with. And she probably doesn’t know why, she probably doesn’t have the words. She’s a little kid. But this friend of hers is the person she wants to rescue and run away with and be together with even though she - Tay - is pretty content otherwise. In fact, she longs for this time in her life. It was full of beautiful things. And yet despite being happy, she was willing to drop it all for her little female friend she was clearly preoccupied with.

Please picture me

In the weeds

Before I learned civility

I used to scream

Ferociously

Any time I wanted

I, I

Again, this reiterates she is nostalgic for this time period. It was a good time in Taylor’s life. It was a time when she could be herself, before she had learned civility and what was expected from her by society. Which ties back to that thing I said right in the beginning, about how this first quasi sapphic friendship is cherished by queer women because we didn’t know it was weird. We hadn’t “learned civility” yet. We could scream, we could run around and climb trees, and we could ask our friends to run away with us not knowing those thoughts didn’t occur to them with the same intensity.

Sweet tea in the summer

Cross my heart, won't tell no other

And though I can't recall your face

I still got love for you

We’ve discussed this already. It’s still queer coded to me.

Pack your dolls and a sweater

We'll move to India forever

Passed down like folk songs

Our love lasts so long

So she’s once again cementing the fact that this is a little female friend with the dolls, and again suggests running away together and says even though none of that happened and she grew up and realized this... was actually a fairly specific experience not a universal universal one and she learned civility and heteronormativity but this foundational, pure, innocent gay love... will always remain in its complete innocuous harmlessness but immense power.

And so, yeah. This song is probably Taylor’s gayest shortly followed by Treacherous.

But if it means something else to you, I’m by no means taking it away. Anyone can enjoy her music in any way they like.

It’s just weird that most queer women feel their childhood selves are completely seen by this song if it was a complete accident 🤷🏻‍♀️

#tw domestic violence #tw domestic abuse #sapphic themes in tay’s music

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cassyapper · 4 years ago

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i wish to hear more about part 5 avdol 👀

OMG I WOULD LOVE TO THANK U FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO KIND PERSON

i genuinely think avdol would become a good mentor figure for everyone in the buccigang, including and not limited to bruno and abbacchio. giorno and him are probably closest tho,,,but i also do like the idea of fugo and avdol being close cause i like to think fugo reminds avdol of himself when he was younger (this is more headcanony than canon stuff tho)

as for actual plot stuff and how avdol would affect it;;;;;; due to avdol’s competence, no one dies <3 sorry araki but nara bruno and abbacchio are alive now. I'm still trying to work out the details regarding how he could prevent bruno’s death tho. maybe bruno will still have to die but I'm thinking about it

ALSO bc of avdol’s influence i think fugo would hum and haw over if he should go with the bucci gang some more. i dont think he actually will tag along completely, BUT he doesnt just leave he just does some sniffing around from the inside. they’ll meet up again later rather than fugo tagging along from the beginning. like fugo is like “yall r crazy. let me do sum research and ill get back to you” and maybe fugo finds polnareff that way (lmfao could u imagine. pol gets kakyoin flashbacks)

lots of kakyoin flashbacks actually. this would really be a bone breaker if this is an au where kakyoin is still dead

ANYWAY. since I'm still not sure abt the details of avdol’s impact on the PLOT, lemme get into character dynamics

giorno: big mentor figure, probably steals some (a lot) of bruno’s thunder in this regard. giorno just rlly respects him and avdol acknowledges giorno is a very hardworking kiddo (which giorno appreciates). i imagine he grows very fond of him throughout the events of va. idk if it would ever cross the line of mentor-protegee to father-son but regardless they're rlly close and giorno values his opinions a lot when he becomes the don even tho avdol says he doesnt wanna be involved in mafia business (and he doesnt but he cares more about the well being of his kids ie the buccigang than staying away from organized crime)

fugo: fugo is like a crazy thrashing dog that is going insane and yet never turns to nip at its owner who is holding it back (in this case that is avdol). yea i imagine avdol and fugo have a good relationship Eventually but it takes fugo some time understandably to accept/warm up to it cause of his issues with authority figures and how they've done him dirty before. avdol is nothing if not a patient man tho and i imagine fugo eventually comes to rlly trust him which is why he decides to squirrel around to get buccigang some info on the inside of the gang rather than disembark completely

narancia: nara would be as hostile as he can be at first i feel like cause he might think avdol is trying to replace bruno but once he learns avdol is a) not in the gang and will never be in the gang he’s not trying to take anyone’s position and b) sees BRUNO warm up 2 avdol, he accepts him very fast. it’s like a switch flipped it’s v sudden and intense change in demeanor. avdol is kinda surprised but like he’ll take it. avdol thinks nara is very funny and he helps him out w schooling when fugo is gone. avdol also listens to nara’s music w him and gives him recommendations which narancia is SUPER HAPPY ABT cause no one was willing to talk music with him before (indulge him and let HIM talk abt it yes, but never respond in turn and have a conversation before). nara loves avdol and avdol loves him in return. fun family (:

mista: hmm i cant see mista and avdol being suuuper close?? at least not at first but they def get along. but when avdol gets comfortable enough w the buccigang to do his funky fun smartass stuff sometimes (like how he was during the judgement fight) mista and him get a LOT closer. mista thinks avdol is the funniest man on the planet and they can have good talks. avdol is a good person to think out loud with which i think mista kinda needs. also I'm sure avdol is enamored with the sex pistols. not many stands can even talk yet these lil guys have outright personalities of their own. avdol joins mista during feeding time just cause he’s rlly intrigued by these lil guys. mista was a little weirded out at first but since warming up to avdol he doesnt mind (:

trish: HIS DAUGHTER NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! he’s got the age, he’s got the kindness, he’s got the patience, he’s got the respect, HE!!!!!! IS. HER DAD NOW. avdol might've laid the sympathy on a little too thick when they first met so trish might not have liked him much at first, but he notices she’s rlly stressed out and talks her thro it/lets her speak her mind which is rlly nice. trish hasn't ever had anyone prompt her to lose her shit before helping her to piece back together again but tis nice. when trish is supposed to be dropped off with diavolo, she actually hugs avdol (: also when trish awakens spice girls u BET avdol is rooting her on and helping her get more comfortable w her stand. avdol is thinks spice girls is rlly fuckin cool and combined w spice girls and avdol’s guidance, trish actually gets rlly handy at using her stand. pls imagine magician’s red and spice girls just chilling. thanks. anyway if avdol were to legally adopt ANYONE in the buccigang it would be trish. trish lives w him after va

abbacchio: i don't think avdol and abbacchio would be besties but bruno trusts him and narancia likes him so i think abbacchio wouldn't hate him despite them first meeting bc of giorno lolol. so like they're civil but i cant imagine their interactions getting warmer until after avdol tags along when they split up from the gang. abbacchio is like “why tf r u even still here” and avdol is like “YOURE the oldest here and ur only 21 u need an actual adult. no but i just wanna watch over the kids and make sure they're safe” abbacchio respects that. also avdol encouraging trish to train w spice girls is why trish is able to keep abbacchio from getting a fist through the torso (she makes him rubbery as spice girls can do so he can withstand the punch king crimson gives him) and he's kinda grateful bc of that to both abbacchio And trish. uhh yeah. lol. also avdol has good taste in wine which abbacchio can respect

bruno: FINALLY the man himself. for a long time he is just politely friendly towards avdol cause idk if bruno would know how to deal w someone who would be more likely to be a mentor to Him rather than vice versa but as avdol and him spend more time together and watch over the kiddos and abbacchio together they get more comfortable. idk if they’d ever get close close but bruno can rely on avdol and he does during the final fight. when they come out victorious bruno kinda promises him he’ll always have a home in italy if he needs anywhere to rest it’d be sweet (: avdol in turn would say if ur ever in egypt just ask around and u’ll find me

anyway uhhhhh yeah. i hope u enjoyed reading all this fjkdnjc;n i just think. avdol is very loveable and very cool and he would've added a lot to part 5 in my opinion,,,,

#cass cries #jjba #jojo spoilers #vento aureo spoilers #golden wind spoilers #this got LONG SORRY #Anonymous

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exploring-in-space · 5 years ago

Text

Aching to Come Home

Robron Week 2020 Day 3: Criminal

Summary: After getting out of prison himself, Aaron meets Robert through a prison penpalship.

Note: This is a little bit of a cheat, but I think it still kinda counts haha also this is 100% a real thing, I spent a good chunk of time scrolling through a website about inmates wanting to start a correspondence!

Word count: 4300

In the end, it’s Aaron’s counselor who encourages him to start a pen pal correspondence with someone currently incarcerated. Aaron has just recently been released after spending a year long stretch for GBH, and he’s been seeing his counselor to transition from being in prison into society.

Aaron had heard of people striking up friendships and even relationships through prison pen pals. It was all a bit crazy if you asked Aaron. Still, one particularly bad day, Aaron sits himself down and scrolls the website his counselor gave him. Some are explicit in their desire to have more than friendship, making Aaron exit out of their bio pages quick enough.

Around the time Aaron is about to give up and tell his counselor to do one, he stumbles on a bio page unlike any of the other bios.

The man honestly looks like one of those white collar criminals that Aaron always hated. Especially given the fact his occupation before was an estate manager. But as he reads through the bio, he’s shocked to read that this man, Robert, is carrying out a life sentence. It’s not like other profiles were shy about stating the reason for being incarcerated (in fact, Aaron had quickly learned that some people are actively attracted to people depending on their crime…).

It’s just...this man doesn’t look like a killer. The picture chosen for the bio is not the typical kind of picture that others had posted. Most were pictures of them in the prison yard, or pictures from before prison. Robert’s wasn’t like that. In fact, Aaron couldn’t even tell if it was taken while he was in prison or if it was a pre-prison photo.

Aaron’s curiosity is too great and it compels him to grab a sheet of paper and start writing. He introduces himself and tells Robert he’s writing because he just got out of prison himself. He doesn’t know how much to put in the letter - Aaron doesn’t necessarily want to spill his guts to a total stranger, but he does share his age and why he’d been sent down. The letter looks sloppy with Aaron’s scrawl and he’s ready to just toss it in the bin and call this whole idea stupid and pointless.

But he glances at the site again, and looks at Robert’s picture. He doesn’t know how to explain it, but the piercing gaze of Robert’s eyes somehow convinces him to just send the silly letter.

So he does. Posts it on a Friday evening and Aaron proceeds to get hammered that night, trying to erase the embarrassment he feels at doing something so out of character. Monday morning, he meets with his counselor for his biweekly session. Tells her about the letter he sent and they talk about it for a while.

“What do you hope will come from this?” She asks, crossing her legs and sitting up to take a good look at Aaron’s reaction. He shrugs and picks at his fingernails to ease his nerves.

“Dunno.” Aaron finally answers with a sigh.

She looks at him thoughtfully before carefully uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. “I think you do.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t press him any further. Lets the statement lie between them, and it works. He thinks about the letter for the rest of the day and well into the week. The picture of Robert’s face burned into his mind.

The rest of the week has Aaron working at the garage. Cain had offered his old job back when Aaron had gotten out and while it took a few days of Aaron debating it, he finally accepted the offer. It’s good to get under the bonnet of different cars. It allows him to not dwell on the letter he sent.

Weeks pass and Aaron doesn’t get a letter back. He stupidly checks the post everyday and gets disappointed every time there’s nothing. He’s not sure why he’s so disappointed. Maybe because deep down, Aaron knows the reason for sending the letter was because he wished someone had reached out to him while he was inside.

It’s around the time Aaron has given up on the idea that Robert would reply that he finally receives it. The front of the envelope shows a neatly written penmanship, the opposite of Aaron’s. Heart racing, Aaron tears the envelope to read the letter.

It’s short, but Robert thanks Aaron for the letter and tells him he hopes they can continue to send letters to one another. He asks Aaron a few questions about himself and offers that he’s from Hotten. It’s an unbelievable coincidence and it makes Aaron wonder if this was fate. He shakes the thought away, the idea too ludicrous to entertain. But he immediately responds to Robert’s letter, eager to share that he’s from Emmerdale.

After the initial lag in response time, Robert starts replying to the letters much more quickly. They can manage to get letters from one another in about two days’ time and Aaron starts to learn about Robert. They touch on some of the things on Robert’s profile: the fact he’s taking classes to get a degree inside, the son he has named Seb, his family that still live in Hotten. And things not part of his bio: the fact he’s bisexual, the worry that he’ll most likely die in prison. It’s incredibly intimate and personal and makes Aaron want to share his own secrets to him.

Aaron doesn’t ask about the reason for Robert’s incarceration - he doesn’t want Robert to feel as though that is his defining characterization. Aaron is of course still curious, and wants to know. But he also respects that part of Robert that remains private, they still don’t know each other that well, despite some of the secrets they divulge to one another. It’s after two months of steady letter sharing before Robert offers it to Aaron unprompted.

I killed a man because he raped my sister. I hit him with a shovel and he later died from it. I don’t regret doing it, I know if given another chance, I’d hit him again. But I never meant for him to die. I pled guilty before he died, hoping that showing guilt would mean a shorter sentence. I hope you don’t think I’m a monster. But I figured it was time you knew.

It’s concise, and it doesn’t beat around the bush. He lays it bare for Aaron to either accept or not. He thinks about Gordon...about Liv. And he knows he would have done something similar if Gordon had even thought about laying a finger on Liv.

The frank honesty makes Aaron want to return the favor. He quickly pulls some paper and writes about Gordon. It’s emotionally wrenching to write about it. Yes, he’s talked about it, and yes he’s testified about it before a court. But to actually write the words? It’s harder than Aaron could imagine. But he does it, and he sends the letter to Robert, more nervous than when he sent that first letter.

Robert's response comes the usual two days later. Nerves fill Aaron as he opens the envelope, afraid of the disgust, or even worse, the pity. But what's in the letter is neither, much to Aaron's surprise.

Thank you for telling me about your dad. You’re braver than I could ever be. Aaron smiles at the words, at the loopy letters of Robert’s handwriting. He talks a little about prison life and answers some of the questions that Aaron had asked in his last letter. But then, there at the end of the letter, written in smaller letters than the rest of the letter:

I want to hear your voice. Can we arrange for me to call you one of these days?

Aaron had never considered them speaking on the phone. Perhaps because it would make this relationship a little more real. He's successfully compartmentalized his letters to Robert and the rest of his life. He knows it's unfair, Robert has nothing else besides prison. Robert has never even asked for a photo of Aaron.

He’s given vague descriptions of himself, like about the time he had gotten a haircut and the barber butchered his fluff at the top of his head. But he knows that’s probably the extent of Aaron offering his personal appearance to Robert. At least Aaron can sometimes go onto that website and gaze at Robert’s face.

You’re braver than I could ever be. Aaron wonders how true that is when he’s hesitating so much to reply and accept Robert’s offer to speak on the phone. But he worries that maybe this correspondence is getting too serious, that Aaron could cross a line he once scoffed at. He likes Robert, quite a bit to be honest. He’s afraid if he accepts and speaks to Robert, it might awaken something Aaron’s kept buried for the past couple of weeks.

Despite all these fears, he still writes his mobile number in his next letter. They arrange for Robert to call Aaron on a Thursday evening, after he’s had his tea and Robert is free to make his call. He sits at his table, squirming and feeling excited and nervous at the same time.

When his phone finally rings, he scrambles to answer the phone, his heart hammering. “Robert?” Aaron asks when he picks the phone up, nerves coiling in his stomach.

“Aaron?” A breath Aaron had been holding exhales when he hears Robert’s voice. It’s soft yet rich. Its timbre sends a small shiver down Aaron’s spine. His voice sounds like it was made to say Aaron’s name.

“Hiya.” Aaron finally says when he realizes it’s been silent on both ends.

“It’s good to hear your voice finally.” Robert confesses softly, and Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever going to tire of this voice. He wonders why he even hesitated for them to speak on the phone.

“Yeah. Yeah, you too.”

It’s silent again, both of them missing their turn to speak, and Aaron starts to worry that maybe this was a mistake. That they should have just stuck to writing letters.

“So...ah, how are you?” Robert finally asks, and it’s tinged with awkwardness. They’ve traded secrets with one another and now they’re struggling to hold a real conversation. Tension that had been tightening in Aaron’s chest eases and he just laughs at the absurdity of it all. It’s infectious enough to cause Robert to laugh alongside Aaron. It becomes less awkward after their laugh and they pick up right where they left off in their letters.

The hour Robert gets is gone faster than Aaron wants it to be. He doesn’t want to hang up, instead, he wants to talk to Robert until his voice gives out. But he knows how other prisoners get when it’s their turn, so they both reluctantly start to say their good-byes.

“We should make this a regular thing, us chattin’.” Robert suggests. Aaron pauses slightly to consider it, but it has Robert quickly adding, “Along with our letters.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.” Aaron agrees with a smile that hadn’t left his face since they’ve started talking. They waffle about for a few more minutes, still not hanging up, before Aaron hears commotion on Robert’s end and the phone call abruptly ends.

Not that Aaron would admit it - he’s not that soft - but letters and phone calls from Robert start to become the best part of Aaron’s life. The little tidbits he gets to share with Robert and the fact he understands the fears Robert has while being in prison are some of the truest moments Aaron has ever been.

Chas comments on Aaron’s improved mood one day, cornering him in the back of the pub.

“What’s his name?” She prompts.

“You what?”

“The bloke that’s making you smile. C’mon Aaron…” She whines, and clasps her hands in a pleading manner.

“There’s no bloke.” Aaron lies, but his mind invariably wanders to the latest letter Robert had sent that sits on his table. She just rolls her eyes and shakes her head, muttering something about how Aaron never tells her anything and he just huffs a small smile. A secret smile. Reserved only for Robert, despite him never seeing it on Aaron’s face.

It goes like that for months, Aaron learns more about Robert’s family, who he rarely sees because Robert doesn’t want them to feel guilty about the fact he’s in prison, about Seb who is growing bigger every time Robert sees him and how Robert worries how unfair it is for a child to see his father in prison. Robert becomes a person who Aaron knows intimately, more than several exes he’s had before. It should scare him, this feeling of affection for a man he’s not properly met. But it doesn’t, he allows himself to feel this flick of happiness through the most unconventional way.

Until one day, Robert is asking whether Aaron would like to have visiting orders.

The question freaks him out. Not because he doesn’t want to meet Robert in person - quite the contrary - but because of the trauma he faced when he was in prison. The memories of Jason and his gang still haunt him months after being released. Robert’s question stuns Aaron and he ends up not responding to it. Days dissolve into weeks and guilt becomes the reason Aaron doesn’t pick up his pen to respond.

Robert calls one evening, and Aaron lets it go to voicemail, shame blooming into his chest. He watches his phone ring and sees when the voicemail notification pops up.

“Hiya Aaron. Hope you’re okay. I haven’t heard from you. I hope I didn’t freak you out with my offer. We can forget about it if you want. I’m sorry.” Robert’s voice is sad, and Aaron’s guilt is all the worse. He’s made that beautiful voice sad.

Aaron lets the guilt fester for a few more days before he finally picks up his pen and finally writes to Robert. He wants to tell him the reasons why he hadn’t responded, why he sometimes falls asleep to Robert’s name on his lips. But instead, he just accepts Robert’s offer for visiting orders.

He has continued his biweekly visits to his counselor, and he tells her about the visiting orders. The visiting orders that now sit on his table, coming a week after Aaron accepted Robert’s offer.

“Are you excited to meet him in person?” She asks curiously.

“I think I love him.” Aaron confesses to her, wringing his hands, wanting to dig his fingernails into his skin and draw blood.

She doesn’t say anything at first, “Do you think he feels the same way?”

Aaron looks at her, and there’s no judgement on her face. It’s what he’s always appreciated about her, the professionalism of masking her emotions. He thinks of the letters, how each one seems longer than the last one, the phone calls where Robert sounds so animated talking to Aaron and the reluctance to hang up, and the sadness of his voice when Aaron didn’t pick up.

“I don’t know.” Aaron replies honestly.

The day Aaron is off to the Isle of Wight, Chas stops him. “Where are ya going?” She asks, eyeing Aaron’s overnight bag with barely concealed curiosity.

“Meeting some mates, that a problem?” Aaron snipes back. He’s still not told her about Robert, thinks she’ll disapprove and throw a fit. To be honest, he’s not really confided to anyone about him and Robert. If Adam had still been around, then maybe he’d know. But it’s a secret that Aaron wants to keep to himself because the last thing he wants is to share Robert with anyone.

“Fine, keep your secrets. But I’ll get it out of you one of these days!” Chas says with a harmless pout.

“Not likely.” Aaron replies, hoisting his overnight back over his shoulder and leaving before Chas can ask him any more questions.

He takes a plane down to the Isle of Wight. The flight is relatively quick, but he couldn’t justify driving the six hours. It gives him a short time to reflect on the path his life has taken. He once thought it was mad that people could fall in love with convicts, maintain actual relationships. And now here he is, six months after he posted his first letter, on a flight to meet someone who clearly means so much to him.

Nerves prickle at Aaron’s skin when he finally is admitted into the visitor’s room. He’s been on the other side of the table so many times, and it of course reminds him of all the bad memories that made Aaron turn to a counselor in the first place. But he tries to put on a brave face, and awaits Robert’s arrival in the uncomfortable chair.

It takes a few moments before prisoners start filtering into the visitor’s room. A few people have come out before Aaron shoots up from his chair when he sees someone who resembles Robert’s photo. His hair isn’t styled in a quaff like the picture, instead it falls a little flat. He wears the prison issued clothes and he looks older and more tired than he did in that fresh photo. But he’s still the most fit person Aaron has ever clapped eyes on.

“Aaron?” Robert asks hesitatingly, standing before Aaron. He's taller than Aaron expected him to be.

“Yeah. Hiya, Robert.”

A sigh escapes Robert, almost in relief or happiness. He grins and actually pulls Aaron into a hug, something Aaron had not been expecting.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to you.” Robert says when he pulls away. “You’re not what I was expecting, to be honest.”

“Disappointed?”

Robert’s eyes drag up and down Aaron’s body in a blatant way that makes the hair on the back of Aaron’s neck stand. Finally his face erupts into an arrogant smirk, “Not at all.”

Aaron flushes red, but takes the flirtiness in stride. They sit down and ease into a harmless conversation. Robert asks Aaron about his trip down, and then it morphs into less small talk and more of their usual banter and conversation.

At one point, Robert laughs at something Aaron says and reaches out to touch Aaron’s hand. Aaron immediately retracts his hands away from Robert, not wanting him to touch him. Robert’s smile drops instantly, a frown replaces it.

“Have I misunderstood us?” He asks quietly, the hurt palpable when all Aaron wants is to touch Robert’s face. The question, though tinged with sadness, dispels Aaron’s initial misgivings before coming down here: Robert sees something between them.

“No, not at all.” Aaron quickly reassures, placing his hands back on the table as a show of goodwill. Aaron hesitates, but eventually tells Robert about Jason. How he was relentless in hounding Aaron, somehow sussing out Aaron was gay, and the torment he faced in the year he was in prison. “I don’t want to give you any hassle.” Aaron finishes with a mumble.

Robert reaches out again and gives Aaron’s hand a squeeze, and this time Aaron doesn’t pull away. “Aaron. I’m in here for murder. Do you think I care what other people think of me?”

Aaron chews at his lip, looking at their linked hands with a sort of fascination. Eventually though, Robert does pull away, before any notices. Robert could talk a big talk, but the fact of the matter was, they both know they need to be careful.

When the guards give a five minute warning, Robert looks forlornly at Aaron, “I want to see you again.”

“I’m here for the weekend, can come back tomorrow, if you want.” Aaron tries to say nonchalantly, but he knows Robert sees right through him.

He smiles and inches his fingers to Aaron, but doesn’t dare to touch him. “I'd like that.”

Aaron visits again the next day, but the visit only serves to confirm Aaron’s fears: he wants more. The phone calls, the letters, the short hourly visits, it’s not enough. He’s promising to visit Robert in two months' time, but it’s not a promise that warms Aaron. He wants to see Robert everyday, lay next to him, trace his face, tell him his deepest secrets and fears, wake up to seeing a disheveled and rumpled Robert. He wants it all.

Life starts to revolve entirely on Robert after that visit. They speak almost daily on the phone, letters still being sent, and Aaron has made it part of his routine to go down to the Isle every other month. They have fights, of course they do. Robert thinks he’s being unfair to Aaron, making him ‘waste’ his life away on someone who might never get out. But if there’s one thing Aaron would admit about himself, it’s that he’s loyal to a fault.

Still, when about a year passes after Aaron first visits, his optimism starts to take a slight toll. How can he keep this up for another twelve years? Aaron wants more. Needs more. Hour long phone calls, letters, and the times he can get down to the Isle...it’s not enough. It can never be enough. Aaron is in love with Robert, but he’s not so much as even kissed him. The hugs they give each other when Aaron visits last a bit too long, but neither of them care. Aaron can’t even write the depth of his feelings to Robert, for fear the letter falls into the wrong hands.

He sometimes feels like a fool for ever penning that first letter. But how can he truly believe that? Meeting Robert, no matter the limited capacity it's been, has been the best thing that has ever happened to Aaron. But Aaron isn’t a patient person, and twelve more years of longing and wanting the impossible dismays him.

When Robert calls that evening, Aaron tells him as much. “I can’t keep this up, I want more.” Aaron whispers it. He knows the phone lines are tapped and he worries confessing this.

“I know.” Robert replies, voice just as soft. “But I’m appealing my sentence. My barrister thinks I can be out soon. They’re confident the appeal will come good.”

Soon. The word holds so much promise but so much ambiguity at the same time. Still, it may be enough for Aaron to hold on. “And then what?”

“Then...maybe, we can give this a proper go, if you want.”

“Then you come home, to me.” Aaron agrees, clutching at his phone uncaring about anyone who might be listening.

“To you.” Robert agrees faintly.

Aaron breathes out a sigh and he’s never felt more in love. It’s probably mad to even try to consider the possibility that Robert can get out early. But hope is a foolish man’s salvation, and Aaron has never considered himself smart.

In the end, it takes another year of fighting appeals and convincing a judge that the initial sentencing was too severe when it was involuntary manslaughter. But Aaron is next to Robert the entire time, supporting him through their letters and the visits down to the Isle. Their phone calls start to become less frequent as Robert speaks to his barrister

The year is filled with Aaron meeting Robert's family in Hoften, shyly introducing himself as Robert's boyfriend. Robert's sister, Vic, welcomes and cries when Aaron explains how the two of them met. He takes to Vic instantly, and he understands better why Robert did what he did. He gets to meet Seb, who is every inch Robert’s son.

But most of all, he gets to tell Robert he loves him in their own language. They’re both careful, but their love for each other is evident in every word in their letters, and the knowing looks and smiles they share when they get to visit in person.

The day Robert is finally released, Aaron stands in the front of the little welcome party that has congregated for Robert’s release. He’s holding five year old Seb’s hand with Diane and Vic standing behind them. Aaron’s heart is in his throat and nerves coil in his gut.

The minutes feel endless and they torment him, feeling as if time has stood still. But finally, finally, Robert walks out of the prison and he takes Aaron’s breath away. Robert is wearing civilian clothes, the first time Aaron has ever seen him in them, and acting on pure instinct, he drops Seb’s hands and rushes to Robert. Robert mirrors his actions and they meet in ght middle, embracing each other, pressing against each other, almost as if to imprint themselves onto each other. There’s tears falling down Aaron’s cheeks that Robert is wiping away, Seb is shouting in glee and Aaron soon feels Seb’s little arms wrapping around the pair of them.

Robert bends down and picks Seb up, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Seb ducks his head into Robert’s neck and Aaron crowds father and son, petting Seb’s hair and looking into Robert’s eyes. Robert leans forward and finally kisses Aaron, and he melts. Seb wriggles in Robert’s arms, Diane and Vic are crying but Aaron doesn’t pay them a single mind, absorbed entirely of the feeling of having the love of his life kiss him for all he’s worth.

“I love you.”

Aaron’s not sure which one of them says it, but it vibrates between them and it’s the truest statement he’s ever known. He knows Robert will similarly have to go to counseling like Aaron, and he’ll have to now adjust to a world where people might judge Robert for the sins of his mistakes. But that’s neither here nor there, all that matters is this moment of feeling Robert’s lips on his own.

Despite the long road they may face, Aaron knows they can weather it, because they’re together and Robert is coming home to Aaron.

#robron week #rw2020 #robert sugden #aaron dingle #robron #robron fic #my writing #my edits #My stuff

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spaceskam · 5 years ago

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I'd love to see someone explore kyle being at the gay bar possibly hoping alex walks in? gone there bc of feelings for alex and wanting to explore it? have gone there with alex once and kept going back? has actually gone there ever since getting back to roswell but nobody noticed? idk so many possibilities but ending up with alex 😌

(i keep trying to add a read more and it refuses I hate it)

“You know, gay bars are supposed to be safe places, not places straight people go to for a museum experience.”

Kyle quickly looked up to Alex, eyes wide as he watched him walk towards him. In all the time he’d been coming here, he never actually expected to run into Alex here. Alex didn’t exactly seem the type to actually go out without being provoked to do so. It meant Kyle had to actually explain himself.

Which, you know, would’ve been easier if he knew how to.

“That’s... not what I’m doing,” Kyle said. Alex smirked more to himself than anyone else, sitting down at the table with his drink in hand. He looked more relaxed than Kyle was used to seeing him which immediately told him that absolutely was not his first drink.

“What are you doing then?” Alex asked, “Because I’ve been trying to figure out why the hell you’re in here for about thirty minutes now.”

Kyle huffed a laugh. “You’ve been watching me for thirty minutes?”

“I was trying to see what you would do if a guy came up to ask you to dance,” Alex told him, “Weirdly enough, no one did.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m anyone’s type around here,” Kyle laughed, shifting in his seat to try and hide the actual reason no one asked him to dance. There were only so many queer people in Roswell bold enough to go to a gay bar. Kyle had already been there enough times that anyone interested had already asked.

“Bullshit,” Alex said, shaking his head and looking way too hot doing it, “You just give off vibrant cishet vibes.”

Kyle tilted his head at his clearly very drunk friend. “That’s a new descriptor.”

“Yeah, I think it’s fitting.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that,” Kyle said, taking a sip of his own drink. If he was going to have to do this, he needed to catch up to Alex’s level of intoxication immediately. He ended up downing it before he looked back at Alex.

“Oh, shit, so you’re trying to get drunk to avoid to question,” Alex said, still smiling and laughing easily. It was weird seeing him so light. Kyle was kind of obsessed with it even if his presence was stressful. “Here, have mine.”

Kyle took it and drank it all, deciding he needed at least one more before he was at Alex’s level.

“How about this,” Alex said, leaning forward, “I buy you a drink and you dance with me.”

Kyle licked his lips and stared at him. All his visits here, all his experimenting, seemed to lead up to this moment. That was all training and dumb shit to test the waters and make sure he wasn’t a fool. This... this was the real deal. This was Alex, his friend and the guy who made him question anything in the first place. This was like fighting the big boss. This was the fucking Superbowl.

“Why are you staring at me like a deer caught in headlights? You want a drink or no?” Alex asked, still smiling. Kyle blinked out of his daze and nodded.

“Yes, absolutely,” he agreed. Alex nodded and stood up, walking to the bar to get him another drink. Kyle took that moment to prepare himself, knowing that this was the night he was going to come out to Alex and it was going to be fucking awesome. Hopefully. Maybe. Fuck.

Coming out was easier said than done. It was one thing to stroll into a gay bar for the first time with no confidence and be boosted up by a ballsy twink who gave him head before the end of the night. It was one thing to get comfortable with the idea of being with men and trying his own hand at new things with strangers in their cars. All of that was easy because he wasn’t even necessarily attracted to them, it was just a good way to experiment and they didn’t mind teaching him when he admitted that he was new to it all. It was something completely different to try and approach his friend who was so confident he was straight and say ‘hey, I might be in love with you in a gay way’.

But Alex came over with a drink and kept looking at him like he was curious and Kyle tried to tell himself this was going to go his way.

“So, am I ever going to find out the real reason you’re here?” Alex said as Kyle tried to consume the drink as fast as he could so they could go dance, “It’s not to, like, creep on women who come here for other women, right? Because I might have to kick your ass for that.”

“No, that’s definitely not why,” Kyle said, pulling the straw out and just tilting the whole thing back. Alex shook his head.

“What the hell are you hiding, Valenti?” he asked, looking somewhere between amused and turned on and Kyle had exactly no idea how to handle that. Probably because there’s no way that’s what he was actually feeling.

“Let’s dance,” Kyle said, pushing himself to his feet and absorbing the slightly woozy feeling of the alcohol.

“Yeah, let’s.”

Kyle avoided any looks the men he’d hooked up with before gave him as he pulled Alex onto the floor. They didn’t need to know anything and Alex definitely didn't need to get any ideas from them. He wanted to tell Alex himself. That was the goal.

Alex pulled him close, a challenging look in his eye as if he was just waiting for some type of line to be crossed. He grabbed his hand in one of his and put the other on his lower back, slow-dancing to the relatively fast-paced music. Kyle went along with every move.

“So, what’s the goal here?” Alex asked, leaning in close to speak. Kyle swallowed harshly at the feeling of his breath on his ear. Okay, so there was no time being wasted.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you at a gay bar?” Alex asked again, “And why are you so okay with dancing with a gay guy? I’m trying to decipher your motives.”

“I’m not some straight guy trying to prove that I’m not a homophobe anymore if that’s what you mean,” Kyle told him, “I come here because I like the atmosphere.”

“What straight guy comes to a gay bar by himself?”

Kyle took a deep breath and focused on the alcohol in his system. Now or never.

“Why are you so sure I’m straight?”

Alex froze in his grasp before he leaned away from him, his eyebrows furrowed as he eyed him. Kyle stared back, unwavering and trying not to seem like a total loser. There was no way this was going to end the way he would’ve liked.

“So... what do you mean by that?”

“I guess the word is bisexual?” Kyle said, “Or something. I’ve talked to a couple guys here and they agree that sounds right. I’m pretty sure my percentage is, like, 85% women, 15% men, or maybe even less towards men, but I’m still working it out, I just know it’s there on some level because when I look at you, I... Is that too much information?”

Alex was still staring at him like he’d grown another head. Kyle just waited and hoped he would be okay with that. He assumed he would be considering Alex didn’t seem to have a problem with Michael’s bisexuality. Except that confusion slowly slipped into something so close to betrayal that Kyle’s heart sank.

“Are you trying to say that you’re into me?” Alex asked. Kyle slowly nodded and Alex pulled away from him. “So, what, you’ve only been nice to me for the last year because you wanna fuck me?” Kyle’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

“What? No, oh my-”

Alex didn’t care to listen, shaking his head and quickly making a beeline for the exit. Kyle quickly followed him all while trying to follow Alex’s thought process. Of all the reactions he’d expected Alex to have at that moment, that wasn’t it.

“Alex! Wait, just talk to me!” Kyle called, following him to his car. “Just let me explain!”

“Explain what? That you’re just one of those people who is an asshole until you want something from me? Because that’s what I’m hearing. I thought you were my friend,” Alex said as he turned to face him. His face was red and Kyle didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the anger.

“No, I swear to God, that’s not why I’m nice to you,” Kyle said, holding his hands up, “I didn’t even know I was into guys until, like, four months ago. Like I said, my percentage for liking men is extremely low. You just happen to be in that section and I didn’t realize until four months ago. You are my friend, I just... Wouldn’t mind also being more than that if you wanted.”

“Four months ago?” Alex repeated, eyeing him skeptically, “Like, four months ago as in that time my dad knocked us out and locked us in a small ass bunker together for 24 hours?”

Kyle grimaced, still keeping his hands up by his head. “Guilty.”

“What the fuck about that day gave you a second sexual awakening? I-I was literally sweating the entire fucking time and covered in dried blood. I was gross.”

“What can I say? I guess I like when you’re gross?” Kyle said, trying to smile but it didn’t really work. Alex scoffed, shaking his head before raking his hands through his hair.

“I’m so confused,” Alex breathed, leaning against his car and covering his eyes. Kyle took a deep breath and tried to order his thoughts. He decided the best way to do it was just start from the beginning.

“Um, I think it was actually when we got out. I had to kinda help you walk and you were leaning on me and then, when we got in the backseat of Isobel’s car, you still leaned on me. You fell sleep on my shoulder and I, I was so scared that if I moved you’d wake up and get away from me. It took me a few hours after that to even realize that what I was feeling when you were leaning against me was sort of how I felt in high school with Liz,” Kyle explained. Alex peaked up at him through his hands. “It wasn’t sexual at first. I just... I kinda realized I loved you in a way I wasn’t supposed to.”

“At first?” Alex asked. Kyle shrugged.

“That I realized a little bit later when we were working on self-defense together. I definitely should’ve realized that earlier because I’ve had, like, x-rated dreams about you, but it never really clicked that that was something I would be legit interested in that until I saw you that day. Sweaty and shirtless and breathing really hard and pouring water over your chest like... Sorry,” Kyle said, rolling his shoulders back as he tried to get back on track, “But once I realized that, I realized I had no idea what to do about that. So I started coming here and, well, pretty much every single queer guy in Roswell is down for a meaningless fuck. I learned a lot, so...”

Alex dropped his hands, still looking semi-conflicted as he stared at him. Kyle waited patiently for him to say something.

“You promise me you weren’t just using me?” Alex asked. Kyle nodded.

“I promise. I would never. And if you’re not interested, I promise we can just go back to acting like this never happened. It’s still early enough in my stupid crush that I can move on without issues if you say you’re not interested,” Kyle explained. Alex nodded slowly. “So, uh... are you? Interested?”

“I don’t know,” Alex huffed, “I’ve never thought about it.”

“Never?” Kyle asked. Alex gave him a look.

“Not, like, since we were kids and I had, like, a dumb little kid crush on you. I kinda haven’t let myself think about it because you’re straight. Or, I thought you were.”

“If it helps, I thought I was too.”

Alex let out a soft laugh, looking at him with those eyes that reminded him why the hell he’d fallen for him in the first place. If only he’d been slightly less good looking or slightly less ridiculously caring and loyal and strong. But then he wouldn’t be Alex.

“Look, I don’t need an answer right now, I know I kinda put you on the spot,” Kyle said, “You can sleep on it or we can talk more or, fuck, you can shut me down right now. Whatever you want, Alex.”

Alex took a deep breath. “How about we go on a date?” Kyle blinked in surprise.

“For real?”

“Yeah,” Alex decided, “Take me out, woo me, see if it’s actually something we could do without it being weird.” Kyle nodded easily.

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Okay. Then... it’s a date.”

“It’s a date.”

Kyle couldn’t help but smile at him, feeling giddy and already beginning to plan it in his mind. It was going to be fucking great and he was going to sweep him off his feet. Then he was going to put his new skills to use.

“But I think I need to go home now,” Alex said, huffing a laugh.

“Let me get you an uber or something, you’ve been drinking,” Kyle said, already pulling out his phone. Alex smiled and shook his head.

“What a gentleman.”

“That’s not even the beginning,” he said, “I’m going to sweep you off your feet.”

“Can’t wait.”

And, honestly, Kyle couldn’t either.

#kylex #kylex fic #kyle valenti #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic #prompts

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