#I don’t think set it off meant for partners in crime to be my sims’ aspiration

[neon-danger]

Judith Ward loves to prey on Alex in my game. Inviting him out and just calling him randomly. She's a predator. He doesn't even like her. I like, uhh, you know what all the ones I know by name were in older games too. I like the updated Sims 4 Don Lothario I guess, I manually updated his design as the old one was just bad and I'd otherwise be stuck with it from my save being old.

New Don Lothario would treat me so wrong and I would thank him

[flydotnet]

Surprise Meeting with Fate (and Your Eyes)

(I’m way too proud of this OS just to post it on my sideblog so here you go fellow ship buddies)

Summary: Shuichi had known for the longest time the universal rule of his world: everyone had a soulmate, and it was apparently the biggest deal ever. Cases, video games and cereals alike are all about soulmates. Shuichi also thought he didn't have a soulmate. He didn't want one. He already had many problems with people and socialization. That was, until he tried to solve the events behind the ransacking of famous pianist Kaede Akamatsu's bedroom.

Fandom: Danganronpa V3 (non-Despair AU) Pairs: Saimatsu, Makaito (implied)

Word Count: 3.2K words (one-shot)

Notes: Soulmate AU inspired by Broken Destinies: "When both of your eyes meet, your soulmate's name shows up on your wrist." I've wanted to write something not a sickfic for these two in ages, and I think I managed to do the right balance between my prompt and something new which really felt refreshing. I don't exactly know how soulmates are supposed to work, so have a rather sugary-sweet take on them.I may even continue this one as its own thing after the Everybody Lives V3 fic and the other one I have in mind featuring some Saimatsu & Makaito goodness.

AO3 version available here.

It was meant to happen, someday.

Shuichi knew about that soulmate thing, he really did. He knew, from very early on, everyone had a “soulmate” whom they would meet one day. It was “bound” to happen. Everybody and everything was dealing with it one day: from his favourite shows to cases he was helping on, there usually was something about soulmates.

Killing your soulmate because you couldn’t be with them. Arranging meeting with your soulmate. Killing your soulmate’s mate because otherwise you couldn’t be with said soulmate. Dating your soulmate. Killing your soulmate’s parents so you could be with your soulmate. Finding someone’s soulmate’s pet (yes, even if it was an alligator). Pretending to be someone’s soulmate when it wasn’t the case.

Soulmate drama. Soulmate murders. Soulmate suicides. Soulmate cereals. Soulmate stories. Soulmate merchandise. Soulmate legends. Soulmate divinities. Soulmate dating sims. Soulmate myths. Soulmate rituals. Soulmate advertisement.

Everything in this world was linked to soulmates because it was such a big deal, it seemed.

Shuichi didn’t really care about dating. Not that he was a natural loner: life just decided he would be one. He had his uncle, his aunt, and his best friend. And that was enough. He was perfectly fine with his uncle, his aunt and Kaito Momota, astronaut trainee prodigy.

And he, also, didn’t have a soulmate. Not that he even cared about that.

Sure, Kaito would tell him on a daily basis how lonely he was. And maybe it was his fault: Shuichi was, undeniably, shyer than anything that had ever graced this town. He didn’t like talking first in discussions, he didn’t dare going up to people, he didn’t know how not to fluster once asked something personal like his opinions.

Honestly, he was just scared people would eventually abandon him. He knew it was both irrational and grounded in his reality: Kaito had never given up on him, even when the astronaut had found his own soulmate, but on the other hand, he had been given up on by who was supposed to be the closest to him until he was an adult.

When, in fact, Shuichi was barely an adult, and had no real mother or father.

When he thought about his potential soulmate, he just hoped he or she wouldn’t be a fan of his parents. How many remarks had he gotten over the years about that? “The Saiharas are very famous people in the show business, how come you don’t like being in the spotlight?”.

Shuichi didn’t like acting, even less lying. He knew how to lie, that wasn’t the question, but he hated lying, because his parents were at their core filthy liars. Not because his father was an actor, or because his mother could pretend to be characters to write them better, but because they had told him they would be there for him.

When, in fact, they had never been there for him.

So, yeah, Shuichi was pretty damn happy about not having a soulmate. Someone he wouldn’t have to cry over once they were gone. Or once they would have realized they weren’t what they wanted out of a boyfriend, or even deeper, a husband. All he had was the capacity to solve murders by luck anyway. He wasn’t the Prince Charming sold by the soulmate dramas and love stories from TV and cinema.

And especially not those his parents wrote and acted in. Those were way too cutesy for the harsh reality that was a world corrupted to the core with a false idealisation of passion and unshared love.

But nobody didn’t have a soulmate. Deep down, he knew he just “hadn’t met the right person yet”.

He didn’t even know what gender to look for. Or, rather, what gender to be weary of. He hadn’t really wondered about his sexuality too much, but if something was rather clear to him, it was that boys and girls meant the same to him. Whether or not it meant he was asexual or bisexual was, also, beyond him. It was hard to tell, when he hadn’t ever really felt in love. Just felt some weird attraction to that one trickster from his high school class, his best friend, and finding some girls pretty cute here and there.

It was all just words anyway.

Because it all came crashing down on him like a person-sized thundercloud full of painful hail.

There was this one case, he was investing upon on his own. Nothing big: something precious had been stolen from a famous pianist. According to her statements, it was a pair of clef-shaped earrings offered to her by her twin sister, a pearl choker and a hairpiece with an opal in it. His task wasn’t to find out where the jewellery was: it was what had happened in the ransacked room.

His cap firmly set to avoid looking into people’s eyes, Shuichi read again the case file before starting his investigation. There was a picture of the victim, who looked quite pretty he had to admit, and all the information he already known, plus some details here and there. He just wondered, deep down, how he had gotten this case and not a famously known detective with the prestige of a royal palace.

It was clear very quickly that the culprit knew what they were doing: only her bedroom had been ransacked, with nothing touched upon other than the broken window and the violated chest of drawers in which, he guessed, the jewellery had been kept by its owner.

He rubbed his temples. That headache really didn’t want to leave, and the room was freezing. He supposed the victim hadn’t slept in there since the theft: after all, who would? The window was more or less wide opened at any time of the day and there was still a risk. He just wished he had worn more on him, even if it was a normal spring day.

The sound of heels coming towards him got him out of his thought process as he was inspecting the floor for possible hair left behind on the crime scene by the thief. Maybe the client had hired a better detective than him. That meant he could go back to bed because, frankly, being sick while investigating sucked.

He was just there because he knew that case was very important to the victim, mostly because of how emotionally charged and meaningful the stolen items were, so it was only normal of him not to let her down. It was a simple question of decency. He had just thought it would be worth it, even if it meant going to work with a harsh fever.

And just that. A fever. A fever he didn’t even feel the symptoms of before actually coming to that place. Not even a cough. Aside from the dizziness and the throbs against his temples, that was it, he was fine.

Shuichi turned his head towards the incoming person. He didn’t need to raise his gaze to know it was the victim herself, standing there, dressed in warm pinks and purples. Her legs were pretty slim, even if they were hidden under wool leggings.

“Excuse me, Mr Saihara?”

He tried his best to sound polite and, well, fine: “Yes?”

Her bust and face entered his field of vision. She was prettier than the photo was telling of her: added to her sweet perfume, her blond hair complimented her pinkish purple eyes perfectly. She really was a beautiful woman, he wondered how she wasn’t dating anyone yet. Information he knew because, when she had been interrogated, she had insisted on not having had any previous romantic partner who could have stolen the jewellery from her.

“By chance, have you found anything? The place is a mess, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t…”

“I have one or two clues,” he replied in all honesty, “but no solid hypothesis yet. I’m sorry.”

She nodded her head with a small, reassuring smile.

“No, no, it’s okay. Don’t apologize, I know you’re doing your best. You’ve been here for a couple hours without saying a single word, after all.”

Shuichi looked at his watch, unsure. He really had spent a few hours in there. He wished he had found more than that for how long it had been, but that would have to do for the moment being.

The pianist kneeled next to him.

“Say, what don’t you have a break? It’s soon noon anyway, and I’m sure you won’t be as effective on an empty stomach.”

He wasn’t feeling any hungry, but if it meant he could slip an ibuprofen in his drink, then he’d take it.

“If you don’t mind, that is…” she added, her voice trailing off.

“I guess I have to take a break here and there,” he replied fairly. “Especially if you propose it so kindly to me.”

“Then, come with me to my living room!”

Shuichi just followed. He wasn’t sure how he was going to eat anything, even if he still had the luck to retain his sense of smell and taste, because his appetite was just completely gone. On the quick way to her living room, he just popped his inhaler and took a puff of it. Because there was no way he was having an asthma attack on the job when he had forgotten to take his medicine in the morning.

“Wait, you’re asthmatic?” she asked, noticing immediately.

Was that what they had meant by “she has exceptional hearing”? He swore he had been stealthy and that wasn’t looking.

“Oh, huh, yeah. That doesn’t prevent me from investigating though, don’t worry.”

“It’d be terrible if you got an attack on the job. Please be careful, okay?”

“I’ll do.”

Wasn’t the detective supposed to make sure the victim was safe and not the opposite way around?

They finally arrived in the living room, where she invited him to sit down on the leather sofa. Her house really was fancy: it really showed how famous she actually was.

“Would you like some tea?” she offered him.

“Sure, why not.”

Shuichi allowed himself to breathe out. A cup of tea would allow him to take a pill for his growing headache.

The pianist sat down next to him a couple minutes later, putting a small tray on the coffee table next to them.

“We haven’t been introduced properly, no? I wasn’t home yet when you arrived to investigate. I’m Kaede Akamatsu. You may have heard of me for my piano recitals. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He had forgotten her name, because he hadn’t heard of her before this case. Oops.

“I’m Shuichi Saihara, detective-in-training. Usually, I’m a literature student, but… You can just consider me a detective, considering today’s situation. Pleasure to meet you too.”

Her face mixes both worry and joy. It’s a weird bittersweet combination of an expression.

“If you don’t mind me, I have a question to ask you,” he tells her, nervous about something.

“Sure thing! What do you need from me?”

“Why haven’t you hired a more famous detective? You specifically hired me from my uncle’s office, according to the letter I got.”

A soft giggle escaped her lips.

“I thought most detectives would accept just for the potential sum I’d give at the end. According to the agency you work for, you mostly work on the side to pay for your studies and your loan. I’m sure you’ll use this money in much better ways than anyone else I could have hired thanks to my fame.”

That made him smile.

“Thank you for trusting in my work. I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“I’m sure you won’t, Mr Saihara.”

Lunch was a bit awkward. He clearly was forcing himself to eat, taking a second headache medicine pill with a glass of water. He had to admit, this Mrs Akamatsu wasn’t half-bad at cooking. She was miles over his. It was even winning over his fever, at one point, but he didn’t know if it was his mind screaming at him to eat or else she’d ask questions or if it was genuinely this appetizing.

He let her do most of the talking. Not only was he uncomfortable saying whatever was on his mind, while she was joyfully chatting about piano and her family, he was starting to feel fairly lightheaded, as if blood was rising to his head. He was, at that point, just grateful she wasn’t requesting him to take off his cap despite the fact they were seating at a table eating lunch.

In the early afternoon, Shuichi excused himself out of lunch to investigate again. Honestly, he had forgotten most of what he had seen on the morning: his notes, fortunately, saved him. He had sent the hair and fingerprints he had found on the furniture and floor to the lab already, so he should probably investigate outside.

But when he got up from his seat, he accidentally looked into her eyes, and the blood finished reaching to his head. There were stars throbbing before his eyes. That probably wasn’t supposed to happen, but he figured it was his fever playing tricks on him.

He lost his balance, and before he knew it, his cap had fallen to the ground and his client’s arms were supporting him, gently sitting him down on the sofa again. That was way too embarrassing for him not to look away, but his head was such a dizzy mess, all he had in mind was daze. His idiot streak of rebel hair was probably either pointing up from his head idiotically or pointing down because, really, he wasn’t feeling so good anymore.

Mrs Akamatsu sat down next to him and put a warm hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, worry dripping in her previously joyful voice.

“I… I just got up too fast, that’s… nothing big…”

God did he hate to lie, but he hated being unable to solve a case more than he hated lying.

Sweat was drenching his back, sure, but there was something wrong. He didn’t know what, he just knew he shouldn’t had been so dizzy previously for just a fever and getting up a bit too fast. Breathing was difficult too, and he knew it couldn’t be his asthma.

And there was a burning pain in his veins.

And that was when Shuichi realized, he had never known how Kaito had discovered Maki was his soulmate and vice-versa.

Looking at his wrist, while muting grunts of pain as much as possible, he noticed something which wasn’t there before. Written in gold was the name of his client. Written in gold was the name “Kaede Akamatsu”. Someone he had, in short, barely met turned out to be his goddamn soulmate.

Now that was a twist he had not only not expected, but which was also destroying any hope he had in never finding said soulmate.

Once the pain had subdued, he no longer felt lightheaded. Was the fever due to him being around his soulmate? (Still, what a weird thing to think.) She hadn’t seemed to be doing too bad earlier, well, before he had worried her at least. Did it magically heal his fever? That’d be too good, and an advantage to having found the worst source of pain possible.

Shuichi looked at the blonde woman next to him. She was holding her left wrist with her right hand and staring into his eyes with glassy irises and reddened sclerae. Tears were still around the corner of her glaze.

“You…” she whispered, looking angered. Or pained? He wasn’t sure.

After all, anyone would be angry to learn he was their soulmate. She was no exception.

“Is your first name Shuichi…?”

He gulped. His throat was knotted in a noose.

“…Yes.”

Kaede sighed.

“I guess this is how it is, huh,” she said. “I never thought I’d met them today. Not in these conditions, at least.”

A small smile appeared on her face.

“At least, I’m relieved my soulmate’s a good person. I was scared they were going to be a delinquent, or abusive, or even worse, a murderer. I know you’re not like that, Shuichi. I… can call you Shuichi, at least? You can call me Kaede.”

“Sure…”

“You were willing to help me without really knowing who I was, right?”

He looked away.

“It’s embarrassing to admit, but I didn’t know you were at all before I got the case request… Maybe I’ve heard your music before, but that’s it, really…”

“You’re a broke student according to your agency, and yet you still didn’t see the case as an opportunity to get famous or gain money. You’re something entirely different, Shuichi.”

“You’re not… offended that I didn’t see you as a celebrity?”

Kaede blinked, obviously surprised.

“Of course I’m not! Why would I be? I wish I wouldn’t be considered a celebrity anyway. I’m even happy you see me as a person more than a celebrity!”

Shuichi was astonished by her reaction. That wasn’t what he was used to, clearly. He was used to people whining about not getting recognized in the streets, not people wanting not to get recognized in the same streets. Who’d want to be incognito?

“Well… I guess my parents are another kind of celebrities altogether. They always wanted more fame and to be celebrated by fans and critics alike. I assumed most, if not all famous people were like that. Sorry for assuming that was your case, Kaede.”

“Your parents are famous? That may be why your name reminded me of something… I guess we’re both more or less linked to fame, then. Me because I got famous thanks to piano, you because your parents are famous. But I think we should push that to the side.”

He didn’t know what to say. For once, someone wasn’t asking him why he didn’t want to be famous. That hadn’t happened since he had met Maki, through Kaito, back in high school. It felt incredibly nice.

“I don’t know what’ll happen to us now,” Kaede continued. “You may already be in a relationship, after all. I wouldn’t want to ruin that.”

“I’m not. I’ve never been in a relationship at all, actually. Well, a romantic one I mean….”

She put a hand on his tight.

“Then… Why not keep in contact and get to know each other this afternoon? I’m sure you’ve investigated enough today. Even if we don’t date each other, we can still be friends. I’m sure it’ll work out well!”

Shuichi was so numbed by relief that he could only nod as he smiled.

Yet, Kaede’s face was still bittersweet. How could it be?

“Something’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m just wondering about something… My wrist hurt when we looked into each other’s eyes, but I didn’t go dizzy like you did. How come?”

“Huh… It may be because I was…”

Shuichi’s voice stops. Should he lie again, or shouldn’t he? He decided that, as opposed to his soulmate parents, he wouldn’t like to his.

“I was running a fever when I came here. I think it calmed down, though.”

Without a word, she puts a hand on her forehead, then on his.

“You’re a bit warmer than I am, so it’s probably not too bad. Still, I don’t think you should investigate when you’re feverish. Why don’t we go out for a bit, so we can make some chit-chat? I can even play something for you later!”

“It sounds lovely… Let’s do this.”

They got up from the sofa at the same time, grabbed some outerwear and went outside.

Shuichi still took the time to make sure the bedroom couldn’t be accessed from the broken window, to Kaede’s amusement.