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Let Me Be The Wallpaper That Papers Up Your Room

Chapter Text

"Only those with excellent social standing and those from filthy rich families are lucky enough to spend their time here at the elite university Oxbridge University. The Oxbridge Host Club is where the school's handsomest boys with too much time on their hands entertain young ladies who also have way too much time on their hands. Just think of it as Oxbridge University's elegant playground for the super rich and beautiful." Tamaki brushed his dark brown hair out of his brown eyes as he gazed at himself in the mirror.

"What?" Tamaki turned towards the speaker, a young man with bright blond hair and dazzling blue eyes in a blue suit. "Why are explaining this to me? I go to the same school as you; I have been for a year."

"I know, I just thought I'd let the wonderful viewers know about my esteemed school and how someone as lovely as moi, the King, got into this terrible predicament with you, a commoner."

"Listen," Dazai muttered crossly. "You can't say such weird things in my body. You'll spoil it!"

"But I guess they're wondering what happened exactly," Tamaki carried on, ignoring the older male. "You see it all happened a long time ago, about an hour I think. This commoner, Dazai, thought it would be fun to make fun of the President of the Black Magic club, Nekozawa, and his Curse Doll. Everyone knows he can't go out in direct sunlight, and yet you decided to shine a light right into his face, risking the lives of everyone in the room! I still remember when he cursed me before just for bumping into him! And now he has body switched us!"

"Honestly I was surprised that he was able to, considering my ability of No Longer Human. So it must be that he used some kind of magic that is not ability-related, similar to that beast Lovecraft. Perhaps he holds the key to defeating Fitzgerald." Dazai mused.

"But why was I caught up in all this?" Tamaki pouted.

"Nekozawa said that I, the smartest in the school, was to be switched with the stupidest as my punishment. Clearly he meant you."

Tamaki felt like he'd just been stabbed by a large arrow. He crawled away in into the corner, the epitome of despair, mushrooms sprouting from his back. "And apparently the curse can only be reversed by true love's kiss. That means I must kiss Haruhi! But is it right for a father to want to marry his daughter?"

"It is if you have a daddy kink," Dazai said flippantly. "But I think it'll be best if we pretend to be each other until we get this sorted out, for funsies you know?"

"Yes! Clearly this is a body switch AU, and I'm main character that must suffer in this commoner's body! But for now I must woo Haruchi whilst in this body, though with this face I'm not sure that's possible."

"Hey!" Dazai shouted. "My body is a temple, it is a piece of art."

"How dare you! I'm someone who is beautiful inside and out, which I why I made the Host Club so that my good looks arr in the open for every young lady to admire, it's a public service!"

"I'm leaving. I have better things to do then listen to a boi talk about women as if he understands how they work."

"I am a gentleman!' Tamaki shouted. "Hey get back here!" But it was too late, Dazai, in Tamaki's body, had already left the room.

senpai - hey guys!!! be sure to comment and kudos down below if you like this chapter. did anyone else ever think of how similar dazai and tamaki were???? >.<

Chapter Text

Usopp's hand runs up Shu's thigh. He gasps. "Shu," he moans. "S-Shu-"

Shu the thirty-year-old virgin smirks. Finally, I will lose my virginity! he thinks. He presses Usopp further into Shank's wooden teaching table and leans over him, reaching for his lips with his own.

But there's a problem.

A dire problem.

Usopp's nose –

-is too large –

-for their lips to meet.

They both stop suddenly.

Usopp's nose caresses Shu's chin as he looks into his smokey smouldering eyes. His lips quiver, cheeks red with desire, as he gayzes at his object of affection. Shu's glasses are skewed on his nose as he looks down at the curly-haired astrology student.

He leans down towards the smaller student slowly and sensually caresses the tip of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Usopp's eyes flutter shut and he whimpers at the sexual sensation.

"You're so hot Usopp," he says with a smile. Usopp's lips part as he huffs out a breath.

The bell rings and both their head turn towards the door. Shu pulls away from Usopp. "I have to leave to clean classroom 8B," he says, falling into his janitorial position. Usopp has never heard anything hotter.

. . .

Shanks walked into the classroom about half an hour late, “Sorry I’m late guys, my bitch stole my hat again.” The astrology teacher claimed his bitch (Luffy) took his treasured straw hat whenever he was late but most of the class just assumed he was sleeping in or hungover. The Red-Haired professor wasn’t exactly known for his punctuality. How he’d gotten tenure was one of the many Oxbridge mysteries.

Dazai-in-Tamaki’s-body turned around to Haruhi and took a mechanical pencil from her desk. “Can I just take this? Thanks.”

“Hey! I got that from the Salvation Army!” Haruhi protested.

”Then I’m sure you won’t miss it,” replied Dazai with a shrug.

Tamaki-in-Dazai’s-body turned around and scowled. “How could you be so ungentlemanly? Haruhi is a lady and should be treated as such!”

Dazai whipped around, wide eyed. “That’s a girl? Since when?”

Tamaki smirked, pleased to know something someone else didn’t for once. “I instinctively knew from the moment I lay eyes on her feminine charm and beauty.”

“That sounds like something Tamaki-senpai would say,” muttered Haruhi to herself.

Dazai said very loudly, “Yes, I’m Tamaki. I’m self absorbed, have a daddy kink and am almost as smart as a mushroom.”

Tamaki jumped up in anger. “ I am not self absorbed! I run a host club for girls with too much time on their hands, helped a doctor find his daughter, helped the magazine club...” realising his words fell on deaf ears he changed tact and said, “I’m Dazai. I keep trying to kill myself but can’t manage even that. Watch.” He took a ruler and over dramatically hit himself on the neck with it.

Dazai spun around and pulled out a teddy bear from his blazer, using it as a hostage. Tamaki’s eyes bulge – Kuma-Chan?

Dazai grabs an iced cupcake from Honey’s grip. “I’ll do it – I’ll smush it in his face.”

“No! Kuma-Chan! Daddy will save you!” Tamaki-in-Dazai’s-body pulls out a convieniently –placed gun from the jacket he is wearing that is not his own and wholly Dazai’s. There was a momentary silence as the class watched the two engage in their standoff.

'Why is Tamaki-senpai using his own teddy as a hostage?' Haruhi mused. 'And why is Dazai holding a gun? He’s not at work, he can’t go round threatening innocent civillians here'.

“Would you risk your life?” asked Shanks coldly.

“What?” said Tamaki, confused.

“I mean guns aren’t for threats, they’re for actions.”

Tamaki’s hand shook. He’d never touched a gun before and wasn’t sure he even knew how to use one. Why did Dazai even carry one around? It was probably sans-bullets. But he couldn’t risk it with Kuma-Chan’s life at stake. He lowered the gun slowly as Dazai lowered the bear, both watching each other closely, ready to retaliate should they need to.

. . .

Usopp was unsure of who to approach with his problem. Shanks had always been a close friend of the father he’d never met, so he’d always thought of him as a father figure.

“Er, professor?” he said nervously. “I needed One Piece of advice about something but it’s kind of personal.”

Shanks looked at the smol boy curiously.

His hands and abnormal nose were sweety, his cheeks were flaming, and his fists were clenched.

“Sure, go ahead.” said Shanks kindly.

“Well, it’s someone who works at this school. He’s handsome, funny and he has his prorities straight. Anyway I really like him but...”

“Let me stop you there,” said Shanks. He knew where this was going. It had happened before many a time, however normally it was female students who were attractive enough for it to be flattering. Usopp…well, Shanks felt more pity for the boy than complimented. Given the lack of experience he was sure Usopp had, he felt an outright rejection would crush him.

“We can talk later but now I just have to go or I’ll be late for a date.” The word ‘date’ was said pointedly, hoping the lad would get the point.

“Oh, with Luffy?” inquired Usopp.

“Nah, she’s just my bitch. I’m going with…Hawkeye.” Hawkeye was used to rolling with the gay-for-each-other lie – many times Hawkeye had invited Shanks to his parent’s Christmas dinners so as not to be seen as chaste and frigid by his elderly family, so he didn’t really care.

Chapter Text

“Right,” said Kunikida. “According to my Ideal, Professor Shanks’ lesson ended on time so we’re on schedule. We need to get on with our missions. Dazai, Atsushi and I have a missing persons case to deal with. Everyone else, do whatever it is you usually do.”

Kenji sat down and went to sleep, the others following suit.

Kunikida turned to his partner, “he was last seen at his girlfriend’s apartment yesterday at 9.30pm, however he never made it home. He is an important city official, so we must solve this quickly. Where do you think we should start, Dazai?” There was no response from the dark individual, who seemed to be unaware that he was even being addressed. “Eh, Dazai!” Kunikida shouted as he hit the man he believed to be Dazai over the head, unaware that it was not.

Tamaki-in-Dazai’s-body winced at the pain, though nothing compared to his wounded pride from his heated argument with Dazai. “What is it, Kyoya?”

“What?” Kunikida felt confusion fall over him. Had he gotten Kunikida and Kyoya confused? Kunikida secretly felt proud to be mixed up with the smart and handsome young man that was Kyoya, however he refused to show this. “Have you even been listening to a word I've said, Dazai?” When faced with Dazai’s blank stare, Kunikida growled in annoyance. “Let’s just leave and get out of here!” He shoved Dazai and Atsushi towards the door and to the awaiting world of crime and punishment.

The street was in chaos. Kunikida had blood dripping down his face, Atsushi clutched his tiger arm with a tiger claw moaning in pain. Tamaki laid on the floor, a fog of blackness shrouding his body.

“Dazai!” Screamed Kunikida. “Use No Longer Human on him.”

The mentioned man was the culprit of the missing persons case; his name was Tennessee Williams and had the ability to make people impotent, called Period of Adjustment. The buildings nearby still had smoke billowing out after being hit with full force of this dangerous power.

Atsushi whimpered nearby, but upon seeing the face of his mentor being overcome with full terror, he felt a surge of confidence. “I must save everyone if I want the right to live,” he exclaimed.

Gripping Tamaki by the arm, he transformed his legs into tiger calves and he launched himself towards Tennessee and threw his supposed mentor at the criminal, causing Tamaki’s outstretched hand to touch him.

And yet, the ability did not stop! Atsushi gasped in confusion. At that he point he realised how strange it was, that he could transform his tiger limbs and yet touch who he thought to be Dazai at the same time. “Dazai-san’s ability doesn't work.” The realisation hit him like a rock, and he wondered how they were going to beat such a powerful ability without No Longer Human.

“I am the most powerful criminal of all time!” Tennessee cried. “No one can resist the Period of Adjustment!”

“But, hey?” Tamaki cried. “How could someone do this to moi? I'm too beautiful to die!”

“I need to feed my family! This is the only way!”

Suddenly, Tamaki understood. “This man,” he said gently, “he's just trying to be a good person by helping his family, but is too poor. Well I say, when in Rome, do as the Romans do!”

“What are you muttering about now Dazai?” Kunikida shouted harshly.

“Kyoya, I want to help this man feed his family.”

Kunikida and Atsushi screamed in confusion.

“But he's a criminal!”

“But not out of choice!” Tamaki rebutted. “If we want him to not be one, then we must help him, not be his enemy.”

Kunikida was about to refuse, then spotted the puppy-dog look that spread over his partner’s face. He had never seen this before, but knew immediately it was impossible to refuse.

After providing Tennessee and his family with enough food for the week, Tamaki felt happy with himself. He'd manage to do some good, and help an unfortunate commoner. And as a bonus, the issuing official was only to have been used a hostage and so was returned safe and well. All in all, Tamaki’s first mission had been a success.

Chapter Text

Dazai-in-Tamaki’s-body twitters around the host club. A young princess sits on an upholstered armchair – Dazai sits before her on his knees, grabbing her hand. “My sweet princess, will you caress my body with your sweet, sweet fingers and then blend me in a smoothie machine and drink me like a sweet nectar of youth?”

The girls leans forward. “I’ll suck you like a sweet nectar of youth,” she says in a lewd fashion.

Dazai leads her out of Hawkeye’s music room and into the adjoining office.

Meanwhile Mori-senpai, Mafia leader, is in the host club, sipping a glass of red wine and staring at the most gorgeous little girl. When Honey was thirteen he discovered his love for cross-dressing, stealing clothes from Kunakida’s secret girl closet, and now goes under the pseudo of Elise. Elise desires a lot of attention, short flouncy skirts and a pink bunny to make her happy. Mafia Mori cannot stop gazing at her gorgeous, toned calves; unshaven legs – Elise is a dream and she knows it. Mafia Mori beckons Elise over and she perches her round buttocks on his thigh, looking up at Mafia Mori through blonde lashes. She says in a high tone, “Will you be my Daddy?”

Ouran Mori’s dark eyes surveyed the room in an attempt to look after his cousin. Mori’s eyes met Mori’s eyes and gave him a dark look.

“As long as I can call you my beautiful girl,” Mori says with upturned lips. Elise’s giggle is short and pinching to the ear, but Mori is a desperate elderly man who needs to have his perverted desires fulfilled.

Sanji is getting desperate again. Nami has started flirting with Brook and even Sanji’s obsession can’t rival the dead. “It’s disrespectful to interfere with the dead’s wishes, right?” Sanji asks Chopper.

Chopper is too busy polishing his antlers as he looks at Tamaki’s teddy bear. “Do you reckon she’ll like me back?”

Sanji looks at Chopper oddly and at the inanimate object Chopper is planning to bone. “Sure, Chopper. She’ll adore you.”

Chopper drools and wipes at his chin, polishing his hooves now. “Do you think I’ll have a chance?” he asks, mouth open. He huffs and his chest heaves as he looks at the teddy bear Tamaki has perched on a footstool.

“Of course,” Sanji says in a heavy tone, looking at Chopper in confusion.

Meanwhile Sanji, who has had trouble sitting still, stiffens when the most beautiful woman enters the room. He looses control – his arms have a mind of their own – they start waving at his sides – his legs loose control in a crazy tap-dance – he falls to the floor and moves in a very worm-esque way – Zoro follows beside the etheral woman and touches her arm – he touches her arm!!! Sanji, alarmed by Zoro’s game, shouts, “Damn son!”

Zoro looks at the floor Sanji and knows exactly he is so infatuated. This woman who he is guiding through the host club she has never been in – is not a woman. He’s a crossdresser. But the name of Kuranosuke. He loves jellyfish and princesses, and most importantly, his brother Shu.

Looking at Sanji’s state, the snot-esque warrior snorts. “Oh, he definitely likes you,” he says to Kuranosuke.

Chapter Text

Akutgawa was having a bad day. He'd woken up late, spilt his coffee on his only clean shirt, and missed the train and therefore missed the entire lesson of Professor Hawkeye’s music class. He was not happy, and knew that only one man could brighten his day; his old mentor Dazai. He travelled to the Agency’s office, already feeling lighter with each step he took up to the top floor. He stepped into the office, and was greeted by who he believed to be Dazai - completely unaware that his body had been taken over by a parasite known as Tamaki - with what would look like an unusually stupid grin on his face for that of Dazai, but one most befitting for Tamaki.

“Who are you and how can I help?” he asked.

Akutgawa immediately felt smouldering anger boil under his skin. How dare Dazai forget him? He was his old subordinate. He decided to push past it however, and to focus on the friendly grin he had been greeted with. It was better than the usual sneer that he always had got before.

“Dazai-san,” he moaned happily, cheeks flushed in anticipation and arousal. “I've been having a bad day, and I knew that seeing your face would cheer me up.”

“Well,” Tamaki replied, “I am beautiful. Who wouldn't be happy to someone like moi?”

Akutgawa felt slightly confused. Had Dazai always been so vain? He reflected on the vast number of women that always left Dazai’s bedroom, back when he had been part of the Mafia. Perhaps he had a right to be vain, Akutgawa thought thoughtfully. He decided to agree with his old mentor, hoping it would cause Dazai to favour him over his new subordinate, the wretched Atsushi. “Yes,” he assented. “You’re very beautiful Dazai, the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

Tamaki felt pure joy fill him at the man’s praise, and decided he wanted Akutgawa fill him with something else.

“Call me King!” He cried.

“U-u-ummmm,”Akutgawa stuttered over his words and bit his lower lip sensually, rolling it between his teeth in a way he would wish Dazai would kiss him. Dazai wanted to him to call him by a nickname? “Well okay, but only if you call me your queen!” He said boldly, ignoring the butterflies that filled his stomach.

Tamaki was impressed at the boi’s boldness. “I didn’t realise the Mafia would have someone who is so openly gay. What is your type? Do you like the quiet brooding type like Mori-senpai?”

Akutagwa cringed at the idea. How could anyone have a crush on the perverted, one whose face looks like the bottom of a wishing well in which someone has donated their small child who has been possessed by a wittle Dracula, mafia leader Mori?

Before he could reply with his refusal, Tamaki carried on, “Or maybe you prefer someone more like me?” he asked as he caressed Akutgawa’s chin, rolling his bottom lip with his thumb.

“Yes!” Akutgawa cried, filled with pure elation at his ex-mentor’s obvious attraction. He briefly wondered if Atsushi had received this kind of attention from Dazai, and felt his jealously flare up. Akutagawa reached for his ex-mentor’s chiselled jawline, fingers trembling at the sheer balls he required to commit the daring act. Just as his fingers made contact with the smooth supple skin, grappling for the erogenous zone that was Dazai’s earlobe, Kunikida, Ranpo and Atsuhi spawned into the middle of the room.

Kunikida’s arms started to wave maniacally. “Dazai, what are you doing? He’s in the Port Mafia – the Port Mafia! How can you be so insolent as to let him near you? This is not – this is not –“ he pulled a notebook out of his pocket and started waving it around, snapping the spine, “This is not in my Ideal!”

Atsushi leant over and out of pure shock and teror, threw up. Kunikida, in his mania, accidentally waved his Ideal too close to Atushi, who sprayed it in a heavy mist of regurgitated tea on rice.

Kunikida stopped. Even Ranpo stopped. Everything stopped.

Everything started.

Chuuya grappled onto the window sill, only just enough strength to stop himself from falling. His voice began in the soft groan of a newborn yam as Kunikida blinked in the direction of his beloved bound pages of blossoming future rules and concequences before he started screaming a scream of mortal terror as he saw his entire life’s work spoiled by the contents of Atsushi’s stomach. Kunikida started running towards the window, launched himself out, screaming, “Not today, Satan!”

Tamaki blinked in confusion. “I was just fulfilling my roll as a host. I am an gentlemen after all.” He turned to the stunned Akutagawa, “That will be 10,000 yen please. We accept Paypal.”

Akutgawa felt like a rock had dropped in his stomach, so it was all faked, he thought sadly as he handed over the money and arranged for the next appointment.

Ranpo snorted concedeningly, “So you’re just a prostitute without the sex then?”

Tamaki ignored him, “You’re just upset because you’ve only just been introduced to this fanfiction.”

Ranpo shrugged in agreement.

Chapter Text

“Zoro – Zoro! Moss-head, you idiot, come back here!”

Zoro tosses his rucksack over his shoulder and looks at Sanji boredly. “What do you want, love-cook?”

Sanji stumbles and grabs Zoro’s shoulder feverhently, as if his village was on fire – his mother was inside that lonely wooden house – burning alive – and all Sanji could think was of finding Zoro, making sure he was safe – safe – safe.

Maybe it’s not about his mother’s safety. “I want that girl. That gorgeous woman – beautiful, long hair – stunning eyes – amazing body – I have to have her.”

Zoro smirks behind his fist. “Of course you do. Any particular reason why? Her femininity?”

“And her innocence. By gosh, did you see those gorgeous lashes? Those pink lips parted as if someone had just told her that Tesco was having another salmon sale – oh, is there another sale on salmon? I’ll have to check – and her flushed cheeks – everything about her, Zoro, she was beautiful. How did you manage to get her?”

“Well,” Zoro says through a smile, “I’m not with her.”

“What – so she’s single?” Sanji’s eyes bug, aghast at the notion – and then less aghast when he reminds himself how unattractive Zoro is to any sex.

“Yep. Listen, I’ve got a lesson to go to, so if you could just –“

“No.” Sanji grabs Zoro’s arm. “You’re setting me up with her.”


Zoro’s wasabi-hair shakes as his head trembles with laughter. “Go on a date with him, Kuranosuke. Then tell him at the end you’re a boy.”

Kuranosuke fingers strands of cropped blonde hair between webbed snek-like fingers. His eyes are filled with the bitter colour of feminism as he leans over and licks Zoro’s cheek. “So he is always after women?”


“Oh,” Kuranosuke says with wide eyes. “I’ll rip him open and lick him like a crisp packet.” He unbuttons Zoro’s top button. “I’ll consume him…until all he can think about…is me.” His hands run over Zoro’s clothed chest.

“Uh – Kuranosuke, get off my lap, or I’ll need Tennesse to fix me up.”

Kuranosuke licks his lips sensually and takes a bite out of the smooth flesh of Zoro’s bicep, blood coating his pointed teeth when he pulls away.


The next day, Kuranosuke is dressed in a deep blue sundress just passing mid-thigh and a set of over-the-knee socks. His feet are in a pair of long heeled boots and his lips are a bright red colour – the colour of his usual victims’ blood. Sanji’s eyes bug with bright hearts as if he were a cartoon and not a character in a fast-paced, fast-moving fanfiction. He wipes at his bleeding nose with a handkerchief he kept just for that situation and leans forward to gently take Kuranosuke’s soft, rose-smelling fingers between his own. “You look so beautiful,” he says to the ‘woman’ he does not know the name of.

Kuranosuke takes the arm offered and allows Sanji to lead him away.


Sanji takes her to on a picnic, ready to dazzle her with his amazing cooking skills. He can hardly walk, legs jelly beside the gorgeous female woman, the most gorgeous female woman he had ever seen.

“So, what are your interests?” Sanji soon gathers himself out of his daydreams, dragging his eyes away from the nameless girl’s flat chest as they walk. Just a few more minutes until they were at the perfect spot.

“I like football,” the girl says. Sanji still doesn’t know her name. Should he? It must have been true love, love at first sight, if his emotions were this exaggerated without even knowing her name. Sanji wonders how their first kiss will be and has to dab at his nose lest there be blood.

“Oh yes,” Sanji says, mind wandering too far to even listen to her words properly. Was it normal for a girl to have a 5 o’clock shadow? Sanji dismisses it. His girl was special. The shading was all wrong anyway, and he wouldn’t judge her for something as fickle as dark facial hair. There love was too potent, too divine.

They finally arrive at Sanji’s key spot. The girl helps him lay down the blanket and sits on top of it, legs bent to the side furthest from Sanji. She looks at him with a sultry smirk, and at Sanji’s height he can look right down her shirt, but refrains himself so she doesn’t think he was some desperate freak. Sanji took the seat beside her, tucking one of her locks of hair behind her ear. She grins.

One of the children far-off in the park slips over their football – Sanji is too enamoured by his gorgeous date’s big blue eyes and fluttering lashes and misses it out of his periphery – it hits his date right on the shoulder, smudging mud onto her floral dress.

Sanji opens his mouth to shout at the brat but his date beats him to it, “Hey!” she screams in a voice too deep for a girl, “Try that again you toe-sucker and I’ll tear you apart!” she stands up, cracking her knuckles and gritting her teeth.

“Hey, hey,” Sanji intervenes, quickly standing and getting between the two. He mentally berates himself for not saving his gorgeous female date, putting a hand on her bicep. She faces him with flickering lashes, tears welling in her big blues.

“I’m sorry!” she cries in a high voice. “I don’t know what came over me!”

Her wig slips a little and Sanji tries his best to readjust it without embarrassing his girl. “It’s okay. Let’s just enjoy the rest of the afternoon.”


The date was a success. Kuranosuke drops his bag onto his bed in his darkened dorm – windows drawn shut – the smell of festering flesh – intestines hanging from the curtain rails as he looks into his reflection. “I want him,” he whispers, licking his petal-coloured lips. “I like him.” Kuranosuke undoes the stylistic corset pinching his waist and leans down to loosen the straps of his heels. “I’ll have him. He will be mine.”

Chapter Text

Shu's chin drips with blood. His hands are red and his vision has either been stabbed with the claws of the tiger or become red with lust. Oh, the blood of an innocent.

Oh, the blood of Atsushi.

An innocent? Atsushi is far from innocent. He whines on the ground, bloodied face a pile of meat Luffy would only be too happy to eat. His lips are unrecogniseable. Shu places his Ted-Baker clad feet, shoes bought from his wage as a janitor at the prestigious Oxbridge, onto Atsushi's throat. He can see the faceless body gasp for air. Oh, how desperate he is. At the mercy of the virginous sex-education teacher.

"Did you really think you would be able to let Usopp love you and I wouldn't find out?"

Atsushi gasps on the floor for air, largely resembling a fish out of water – at the thought, Shu pulls out a pocket knife and cuts gills into the side of the small body. "Breathe, boy. Breathe me in as I end your life. You let Usopp love you – then you dumped him – then you expect me to think he no longer loves you?" Shu kicks Atsushi. His shoe gets sucked into one of the gills and he has to struggle to retrieve it. "I know how to get all of his love," Shu muses. "I'll eat your heart – then all of his love will be inside of me."

Shu kneels beside the gasping boy. "Let me cut you open – and lick you like crisp packet." He uses his pocket knife and presses it into the warm flesh of Atsushi, gouging out his wet heart. "Hmm –" Shu hums. "He will me wholly mine. Irrefutably mine. Mine, mine, MINE!"

Shu rips the heart with his teeth and the warm blood lines his oesophagus.


Shu never liked Mori.

Oh, the man Usopp looked up towards. Villanous,wretched, with a penchant of hanging around boys that dress as young girls – the man was a disaster. Shu would cut him out of Usopp's life and ensure that all of Usopp's attention would be towards him and towards him only, forever.

When Mori orders a drink at the bar, Shu happily pours the order with something a wittle extra. The unassuming Mori sips his drink leisuredly and minutes later, clutches his chest.

Mori grabs Mori to steady him on the bar stool. "Mori, are you okay?"

Mori's brown eyes look into Mori's brown eyes. "Mori, I-"

"It's okay," says Mori tearfully, finally understanding the gravity of the situation and lowering Mori to the ground. Mori takes Mori's hand.

"Look after Elise – when I'm gone." Mori chokes.

"No – Mori, don't talk like that." Even so, Mori is sure to meMORIse Mori's face.

"For my meMORIal, make sure Elise is not alone."

"I will, Mori – I swear," said Mori through tears.

"Mori, I – I'm sorry, Mori," Mori's brown eyes were glassy as Mori petted his black hair. "Please – for all I've done wrong –"

"No, Mori," Mori cried, because Mori's body had stilled.

Shu had killed Mori aMORIlly.


Tamaki-in-Dazai's-body opens the door when the bell rings. "For Mr Dazai?"

"Oh!" Tamaki says. "That's moi. The King."

Tamaki takes the box from the doorman and places it on the worktop. He rips open the brown packaging paper to reveal a white fur coat.

"Oh," Tamaki says. "Fit for a king!" He places it over his shoulders and leaves his house, now feeling even more ready for the Quidditch match.

Chapter Text

The stadium was filled with cheers, excitement and anticipation. The rivalry between Oxbridge and Knottingham Trent was legendary. Although Knottingham Trent could not hope to compete with the prestigious university Oxbridge University in academic competitions and neither had Oxbridge ever yet lost a sports match, Knottingham Trent was still the second-ranking University on all the league tables albeit with a wide margin.

Quidditch fans from both schools cheered for their respective teams; the headmaster of Oxbridge, Fukuzawa, was among them in the stands surrounded by his fellow teachers.

The cheerleading team at Knottingham Trent had Mia on the top of a pyramid, smoking a marijuana cigarette.

The Oxbridge cheerleading team was led by Blonde Soviet Yuri.

The captains of both teams – Tamaki-in-Dazai's-body for Oxbridge and Light Turner for Knottingham Trent – shook hands. Normally the two captains tried to crush each other's fingers but for some reason Light was met with minimal resistance. Instead the normally calm and collected captain was whimpering from the pain.

Sanji gripped his broom tightly, scowling angrily. He'd never felt so betrayed. So humiliated. So furious. He was seeing so much red it was almost like he was a Red Eyed Pirate.

Just ten minutes ago he'd seen what he'd never wanted to see.

He'd followed Kuranosuke into the changing room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the gal's amazing rack. What he'd seen instead was...a man. Not the beautiful woman he'd thought her to be but a MAN. And Zoro...that moss haired son of a bitch...had known this whole time.

"Mount your brooms," announced the commentator Kyoya. "Get set, and go-oooo!"

The audience erupted into a deafening cry of jubilation as the whistle blew and the players kicked off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Kuranosuke, who's heading straight for the Knottingham Trent hoops. Can Near stop him from getting too near?" Kyoya shouted into the mic, meanwhile the other commentator Ranpo was distractedly playing with a marble rather than aiding his BFF.

Shanks pushed Kyoya out of the way of the mic, grabbing it between his thumb and forefinger. "It's okay guys, you can stop looking. I found my bitch and I collared her to my bed."

Soviet Yuri turned to Viktor Krum. "I didn't realise she was missing." Viktor shrugged back and resumed his roll on the snack stand.

Just at that moment, Sanji purposefully whacked a Bludger straight at Kuranosuke with the intent to cause severe damage. It fizzled through the air with a speed only brought by unbounding force before Zoro intercepted the hit and came at Kuranosuke's side to hit it back towards Sanji. "What are you doing, you stupid Love-Cook?"

"You..." Sanji's curly eyebrows crossed as he deflected the Bludger at a random direction, and instead flew straight at Zoro. Sanji kicked with firey legs and Zoro blocked with three swords that appeared out of nowhere.

Just at that moment, Usopp was hit by the stray Bludger with no Beaters to keep it away. It hit his salami-like nose and he fell from his broom high up in the sky, landing on the field, creating a Usopp-shaped holes with only his nose visible.

Tamaki was used to Chasing, not Seeking, so this new position was completely new. He couldn't see the golden ball anywhere. He was flying around aimlessly, wanting to do well for his team but not confident he could. Light Turner was a brilliant Seeker. He made up for his dyslexia with his athletic ability.

Honey was not doing so well at his job as a Keeper that day. The crowd was all wearing 'Honey Is Our King' badges and chanting a song composed by Honey's younger brother.

The Oxbridge fans were all shouting at whom they thought to be Dazai for such a poor performance.

"Dazai is having the hardest day of his Quidditch career. Let's just hope he can turn it around and get the Snitch before Light Turner does!" announced Kyoya.

At that moment Light triumphantly held up the Snitch, signalling the end of the match.

The Oxbridge crowd erupted in angry screams and tears. They'd suffered the most humiliating defeat in history. The Beaters were still fighting. The Keeper was off his game. A Chaser had been injured, and the other two hadn't exactly been able to do much, given Near hadn't let them near the hoops. Most importantly the Seeker had somehow been more useless than Leorio.

"What led to the team with most wins in history, to fail so epically today?" said Kyoya, his four eyes glinting like he was enjoying some private joke.

"Well because Tamaki and Dazai body switched of course," Ranpo announced nonchalantly into the mic, still playing with his marble.

The crowd fell into stunned silence, but then Nekozawa screeched triumphantly, "It worked! It worked! They all said I was mad, but it worked!"

Tetsuya Sendo scrambles from behind him, holding an umbrella open to shield the fair skin of the demon spawn from the sunlight, "Young lord, young lord! Don't forget your umbrella!"

Kasanoda screeches angrily, "Stop getting us mixed up!" Though he was secretly proud to be mixed up with the smart and handsome young man that was Nekozawa, however he refused to show this. His face was a solid mask of anger, causing the whole stadium to flee in panic after seeing his ugly face look even uglier.

Chapter Text

The after party for the lost Quidditch match was at Soviet Yuri's house. Non-Soviet Yuri and Victor Nikiforov (the renowned Binman Studies teacher at Oxbridge) were snogging in the corner while Soviet Yuri and Viktor Krum were snogging in the corner.

In the centre of the room, living characters still alive were sitting in a circle on the floor. Zoro and Sanji stared at each other challengingly while drinking their own respective bottles of sake. Kyoyo placed an empty bottle of peach schanpps in the centre of the circle, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his bridged nose. "Who's ready for spin-the-bottle?"

Sanji and Zoro stared at each other competitively. "I'll go first," Zoro gritted out before grabbing the shaft of the bottle between his thumb and forefinger and jerking it.

The bottle moved sensually. Chuuya started singing in the background, his voice a low hum between the moans of 'Yuri!' and cries of 'V-Victor'/'Viktor'. His voice got louder just as the bottle slowed and stopped on the one whose brows were so curly he turned gay.

Sanji and Zoro looked at each other.

Zoro leapt forward and pressed his soft velvet-smooth lips against the Sanji's sweet, succulent, strawberry-coloured, sexy, smooth lips. They gayzed at each other lovingly. Their friendship was mended by this sexual interaction that neither of them knew they had needed so badly.

Sanji spun the bottle and kissed the smol goth with an eyeroll. Akatagawa opened his mouth to deepen the kiss further but Sanji broke it off, too loyal to the Straw Hats to betray Zoro. Akatagawa, empowered but the sexuality of the kiss, confidentally spun the bottle, knowing where he wanted it to land.

His wish was granted. The bottle landed on the one who looked like Dazai but everyone knew to be Tamaki.

Akatagawa smiled, the first time anyone had seen the act. Chuuya's voice built steadily in the background as he sat in his corner of the room, facing the black walls.

"You must be so happy to kiss moi, the King! I am a beautiful gentleman!"

Akatagawa said, "Dazai – you – you don't need to say anything, Dazai." His eyelashes fluttered with passion. "Just – kiss me."

Dazai in Tamaki's body looked oddly at Akatagawa. "Did you miss the memo. Me – I'm Dazai, bodyswitched into that buffoon's body."

"Buffoon's body? Moi? You clearly have no idea of what delicacy is! What is this – this commoner's body I have been cursed to wear for the rest of my days?"

"Don't ruin my dreams, fake-Dazai!" Akatagawa grabbed the lapels of the beautiful white fur coat that the one who looked like Dazai was gifted in an earlier chapter and smooshed their lips together in a passionate act of love, devotion, and upmost passion.

The entire circle threw up just as Kunakida spawned into the centre of it, having just been released from the hospital with a new notebook. "Hi guys, it good to be back –" he says just as everyone showered him in a sea of vomit, soaking the covers of his new Ideal.

He looked at the dripping pages. Chuuya started singing louder. His voice reached a new depth as Kunikida blinked in the direction of his beloved bound pages of blossoming future rules and concequences before he started screaming a scream of mortal terror as he saw his entire life's work spoiled by the contents of their stomachs. Kunikida started running towards the window, launched himself out, screaming, "Not today, Satan!"

It was now Tamaki's turn to spin the bottle. It made a whirring sound on the floor before it landed on the one who looked like him but was not him.

Tamaki-in-Dazai's-body and Dazai-in-Tamaki's-body gasped simultaneously. Tamaki looked up at Dazai just as Dazai looked up at Tamaki and Dazai said, "This is slightly odd, even for me. But let's do it. Just for funsies, you know?"

"I never thought I would be kissing someone as beautiful as moi," Tamaki-in-Dazai's body announced. "Though the King's mouth is reserved for Haruhi. I will grace you with a peck on the cheek."

Dazai and Tamaki both seemed keen on this agreement and Tamaki stood up to get to Dazai. He crouched on the floor beside him and nestled his face between his two palms. The ever-jealous Akatagawa stood up on all fours and started to monkey-run towards the imminent kiss.

"Hold that kiss!" he cried. On his way he slipped on a conveniently-placed legume and fell onto Tamaki, the banana sliding underfoot and Tamaki's lips landing in Dazai's.

Upon seeing the two kiss, Akatagawa started screaming a scream of mortal terror running towards the window, and then launched himself out, screaming, "Not today, Satan!"

Tamaki's and Dazai's bodies became weightless as they rose in the air together. A ghost-like veil of yellow enveloped them as they held each other close in their arms for moral support. "Dazai – if I never get out of this...tell Haruhi that Daddy loves her."

"And Tamaki, if I never get out of this, then I want to tell you – as stupid as you are, you were worth committing a double suicide with."

They both gazed at each other with mutual affection and respect in each other's eyes. Yellow light started to build in the centre of their embrace, too bright for anyone to look at - they look away so as to save their vision – fuck Specsavers – and then suddenly –

The men fall to the ground.

"They're back," said Ranpo, fiddling with his balls.

Fukuzawa spawned into the circle. "Ranpo, I will praise you if you tell the viewers why."

Ranpo looks up in shock. "Praise? If it's that serious, Nekozawa's curse stipulated that in order to break the curse they must kiss their one true love. Dazai and Tamaki are so in love with themselves that kissing the one that looked like them made the curse break."

"Oh." Fukuzawa sat beside Chuuya in his corner and started petting him like a cat. Chuuya's tail and ears popped out as he purred.

Dazai ran his hands over his body as if checking it was all there. "Tamaki, where did I get this beautiful coat from?"

Tamaki looked up at Dazai, thankful that Dazai looked like Dazai. "It was a gift I received in the post. I'm not quite sure where it came from, but it is fit for a king. So give it back."

Ranpo stopped fiddling with his marbles and casually announced, "It's Atsushi."

Dazai looked at him in alarm. "Atsushi-kun?" He looked teary as he stared at Ranpo. "What happened?"

"Shu killed him. I was there, I saw the whole thing," Ranpo drawled.

Dazai started screaming a scream of mortal terror as he realised his favourite subordinate was dead. Dazai started running towards the window, then launched himself out, screaming, "Not today, Satan!"

The music faded out as Chuuya started a mourning cry.

Chapter Text

Shanks opened the door to his apartment. It creaked in an aged way. His puppy, Luffy, started barking at his feet as soon as the door was opened.

Shanks paused at the light switch. He could feel the tension in the air. For his doggo to be this agitated only meant one thing. Something was wrong. Something that Shanks hadn't noticed.

He surveyed the room carefully before seeing a slight shadow crouched beside the dog bed. He picked a chair up from the cheese board and crept towards where he knew Shu would be hiding.

Chapter Text

Usopp stared at his computer screen. 'Jellyfish are just wet ghosts' it read. It makes sense now, Usopp thought. He recalled Shu and Kuranoske's weird obsession with jellyfish. That’s why they're so weird! That's why they like eating people... "because they're g-g-g-ghosts?" Usopp finished the thought out loud. His hands trembled. Was this- was this why Shu never came back to him? Was it possible that Shu... wasn't real? The realisation hit him, like a fist to his gut. It was almost like falling high from the sky. Like getting your heart ripped out and eaten by your ex's boyfriend. The pain was unimaginable. Far worst than having partially digested tea on rice raining down on Kunikida's ideal. Tears welled up from behind his eyes, his legs were shaking. Knees weak, nose sweety. Tonpa's spaghetti. How could he go on? How could he continue his life when the only one he'd ever truly loved was dead? He decided to visit his favourite teacher for One Piece of advice. He was nervous but on the surface he looked calm and ready. He mounted his broomstick, wishing it was something else and jerked the shaft towards professor Shanks. He landed clumsily, Shanks got it wet so he had to rub it off.

"P-p-p-professor," Usopp stuttered nervously. His heart was pounding in his chest and he wished there was someone to keep it safe for him. "Do you believe in goats?" He asked breathlessly, trembling.

"Yes" Shanks mumbled. "I also believe in your love."

Usopp's eyes widened in surprise. He knew about his and Shu's illicit relationship?

"How?" He gasped.

Shanks couldn't bear to see Usopp's lips parted in such a lewd way. Shanks licked his lips in preparation, his heart starting to hammer in his rib cage. He leant forward and palmed Usopp's check, slipping two fingers into his mouth.

Usopp gagged in shock. "Professor what are you doing?" He mumbled around Shanks' slender digits.

"After killing that monster Shu yesterday I just need to do something to relax." Shanks replied ruffly.

"But what about your bitch?" Usopp asked.

"Well," Shanks' voice dropped, "you'll be my bitch now won't you?" Shanks hissed into Usopp's ear. The full weight of what Shanks had just said hit him. He killed Shu? His precious boi? Revulsion hit him like a sledgehammer as he began to slap Shanks away.

Shanks was used to trying to tame a bitch. He grabbed Usopp and placed him gently on the chair. "Listen, I think we should make a contract."

Usppp was barely listening. "You killed my baby boi! My sweet boi!"

Shanks' brow furrowed in confusion. "I AM your boi" Shanks said.

Usopp was now weeping. "Shu!" He cried over and over again, pitifully.

"Shoe?" Shanks removed his own boot from his foot and placed it lovingly on Usopp's lap.

Usopp picked up the shoe and attempted to throw it at Shanks head. He missed and it skittered uselessly behind the professor.

"I gotta go." He muttered. Usopp tried to leave his seat but Shanks grabbed his wrist and held the smol boi in place.

"Usopp," he said, "will you let me fight for your love?"

"Never!" Usopp cried. "My one and only love is Shu. If you want to help, take me to his body."

"Why do you want his body? What about mine?" Shanks shouted.

"No. You're ugly in compassion to Shu. Everyone is. Even Kim Kadishan. Nothing can compare to his ethereal beauty."

That was Shanks' epiphany. If Usopp only loved Shu, then Shanks must BECOME Shu.

Chapter Text

"Dazai-A*.Kyoya-A*. Tamaki-D"

"I don't think you're supposed to just guess grades," said Hawkeye, taking a swig of sake.

"I can with most of my students," replied Shanks nonchalantly.

Exam results were due the next day and Shanks had left marking them to the last minute, which in hindsight had probably not been such a smart move.

"Ranpo didn't write anything… probably forgot his glasses. Atsushi - no point in marking this, may he rest in peace...s. Usopp-"

"Speaking of Usopp," Hawkeye interrupted. "What has the boy so down lately? He spends all his time alone in the music room, playing tragic melodies on the triangle. Its like a beautiful serenade for a lost love."

"Sounds about right. I did have to kill his boifriend," said Shanks in an indifferent manner.

"USOPP had a boifriend?" Hawkeye was not a shallow man; he knew looks weren't everything. But Usopp didn't exactly have money, charm or personality (the things that did matter) either.

"Well it was Shu."

"The janitor." That made sense. It also made sense that Shanks killed him. Hawkeye had been thinking about killing Shu himself- slicing up the 30 year old virgin with his sharpest blade. Not for any particular reason; Shu was just one of those bastards you felt compelled to kill.

"Yeah the kid was pretty torn up about it. Can't imagine why. He could do much better. Well-" Shanks reconsidered his statement, "Better than Shu at least. Problem is his self-esteem is so low. I tried pretending I was into him so he'd realise he could possibly be desirable to better men."

"Didn't you turn him down in the previous instalment of this fanfiction?" Hawkeye asked.

"Yeah turns out he's over me. The plan now is for Shu to tell him to move on."

"The dead guy," Hawkeye rolled his eyes. "Why do you care so much? Anyone would think you actually did have a thing for him."

Shanks burst into laughter. He clutched his side and wiped away a tear as he guffawed.

"No," he said when he sobered. "I really don't."

He straightened himself and his expression, and felt he should probably explain, "He's Yasopp's son."

Yasopp and Shanks had been close friends in their university days. With their two other mates- Beckman and Roo- they'd been known as the Marauders.

"He's nothing like his father of course," Shanks continued. "But he is still my friend's flesh and blood. When I found out he was dating Shu, I tried to leave it alone but then Shu threatened my bitch so I had to dispose of him. No Haki or sword needed - a chair from the cheeseboard was enough. So I made Usopp think I wanted him - to boost his confidence of course. That didn't work so I decided I'd have to BECOME Shu and give him the closure he needs. Using Aizen's Zanpakto to create the illusion of course. But Aizen's back at the Soul Society for a few months. So I'll just have to get Bon Clay to shapeshift into Shu and do it."

. . . .

Unbeknownst to Shanks, Usopp had already fallen in love with someone new.

He sat in the Quidditch grounds, awaiting the arrival of Light Turner - his new sweetheart.

Light had said he'd first fallen for Usopp when Usopp fell off his broom in their last Quidditch match. Usopp himself had always had a crush on the dyslexic, unattractive Quidditch prodigy.

Soon after Shanks had made a move on him, Usopp realised the handsome, popular, ripped teacher had just done it to make him feel better. As if he needed the Red-Haired boyfriend-killer's help or sympathy. His anger gave him the confidence to approach Light, who'd quickly accepted his friend request on Facebook and agreed to go clubbing with him. This had led to a whirlwind romance they were still in the honeymoon period of five whole hours later. To Usopp, their love story was greater than that of Romeo and Juliet's. A relationship between an Oxbridge student and a Knottingham Trent student was taboo, unheard of, impermissible.

It was the excitement of this forbidden love, that feeling of adrenaline when they snuck out to meet each other and the sparks that flew by their every touch, that healed Usopp of his previous heartbreak.

Usopp didn't have to wait long. He was joined by his beloved in little time.

"I want to show you something," Light's hot breath in Usopp's ear gave him goose bumps.

Light pulled out a notebook from his bag. Usopp smiled, Light writing things wrong was always cute to watch. Much to his surprise however, Light had written the long nosed boi's full name with the spelling perfectly correct.

"Well done, darling," said Usopp encouragingly.

Light started to laugh, "You fool! You're so desperate for love, you don't even realise when it's a lie. I never loved you. I only pretended to love you so your expression would be all the more delightful when I kill you. You see, I recently gave half my life span in exchange for the Shinigami eyes. Reading a name wrong and then writing it down wrong makes the written name right as of course two wrongs make a right. You are the first person I tested my newfound power on. And my next target... is Tonpa."

As Usopp's heart stopped beating and his eyes closed, all he could think was, "If I become a ghost, will I too be a jellyfish?"

Chapter Text

Fukuzawa looked up at the gloomy, overcast sky. With the rain pouring down, it was impossible to tell if his face was wet with it’s droplets or his tears. This was the fifth funeral he’d had to attend for one of the students he was responsible for as the head master of Oxbridge University.

First it had been Atsushi, killed by Shu’s hand.

Then Usopp who mysteriously died of a heart attack, despite no history of cardiovascular disease.

Followed by Yuri Katsuki, Kuranosuke and Gon (whose funeral he was at now), all who had lost their lives by heart attacks too.

The university nurse, Tonpa, had also died (but his cause of death wasn’t known as no one cared enough to determine it).

“Professor,” said a low voice behind him. “He’s here. I told him to wait in your office.”

“Thank you, Kakashi,” replied Fukuzawa, wiping rain (they weren’t tears) from his face.

Kakashi, the English Literature teacher, nodded in reply and proceeded to join the other teachers in their game of Never Have I Ever. (Gon had been no one’s favourite person, so there wasn’t a lot of mourning Going ON).

. . .

As he entered his office he was surprised to see Ranpo waiting for him, with an (adorable) scowl on his face.

“What troubles you, smol boi?” asked the old man.

“HE ate ALL the Smarties you keep for me,” complained the smol boi, pointing towards the chair where another boi was sat. The other boi turned around slowly. He was wearing a long, dark raincoat with the hood covering his face in shadows. He was sat in a strange position with his feet on the chair and his knees in front of him. Unperturbed by Ranpo's complaining, he now reached out for a packet of skittles.

“Ah you must be L,” said Fukuzawa with a smile, “though forgive me for asking, are you the OG L or the 2017 one?”

“Just call me Ryuzaki for now,” replied L, getting up from the chair and taking off his coat. “I was told there was another death?”

L was wearing a long sleeved white t shirt with blue jeans. His hair was as black as a raven’s feather and his skin as white as snow. His face was beautiful (though maybe not conventionally so), but serious as he contemplated the Killages.

“Yes Gon is Gone,” confirmed Fukuzawa.

“More importantly,“ interrupted Ranpo, “My SMARTIES! What will you reward me with now whenever I’m a smart boi? “

“Praise,” was all Fukuzawa had to say to shut Ranpo up.

L, who had been watching them silently, was now sitting on top of the mahogany desk.

“I have a pretty good idea of who the killer is,” he continued the original conversation.

“How sure are you?“ asked Fukuzawa, with a frown. He knew L was a genius of course, but still someone figuring it out so quickly was astonishing. He hadn’t known anyone but Ranpo to be able to do that, and he couldn’t rely on Ranpo for this because recently the boi had lost his glasses and his new pair wouldn’t be ready for another week.

“Well… 5% sure,” was L's response. It was a lie. He was 100% sure he was right. One of the best things about being himself was that he was never wrong.

“If I could use my special ability I’d be able to tell you exactly how, when and where the murders happened, as well as by whom,” Ranpo proudly stated.

L did not seem impressed. “I could tell you that myself right now. What I need is to prove it.” He paused. “A task force would also be useful.”

“Ranpo can join you. And anyone else in this institute would be honoured to help you in any way they can. Some of them would probably be useless to the investigation -like Leorio – but can get you coffee or something.”

Ranpo was about to protest to this arrangement but the promise of praise was enough for him to change his mind.

“You can come, I suppose,” said L. “Don’t get in my way, and I’ll give you some of my Smarties, okay?”

Chapter Text

“Light Turner.“ L added a tirdeenth sugar cube to his cup of coffee.

“The Knottingham Trent Quidditch captain is Kira? What makes you say that?” Kakashi asked, putting down the erotica novel his class was covering that semester.

He’d been sitting in the cafeteria with Shanks, Hawkeye and Ace when the famous detective, L, and the Astrology student, Ranpo, had approached them.

Ace was Shanks' nephew. The young man was an exceptionally handsome lad. He was obviously too sexy for a shirt, so was wearing just knee length black shorts and a red beaded necklace, as well as an orange hat on his head. His hotness wasn’t just physical – it was also physiological with his flame-flame powers.

“I am L. I just know these things.“

Everyone at the table but Ranpo nodded, accepting that.

Ranpo was paying no attention to the conversation going on. He was distracted by how little he cared.

“Also the term he uses for himself isn’t Kira, it’s Kiwi. He probably spelt it wrong.”

L thought back to the message ‘Kiwi' had left for him, through the last three victims. ‘El, did u no shinugrammy luv appels and jelyfish. Kiwi xx'

“However I did have a few questions. You may consider these unrelated. Shu Koibitchy… How exactly did he die?” L turned his piercing gaze on Shanks.

“Well I took a chair from the cheeseboard and pierced his heart with one of the legs, before throwing him in a landfill,” replied the Astrology teacher.

“I see.” L considered that, before turning to Ranpo. “Time to go to Specsavers.“

. . .

“Can we take these off now, Ritzki?”

“Ryuzaki. And no.” L had had to handcuff Ranpo to himself to keep him from getting lost. For someone who had lived in the city of Oxbridge for so many years, Ranpo had no clue where anything was and had a penchant for getting lost. He was also of the habit of keeping his eyes closed for some reason.

They had just entered Specsavers. L picked up a random frame from the selection and handed it to Ranpo. It was red with pink hearts on it.

“Just put these on. I want to observe something.”

Ranpo scowled, not liking being bossed around, or the handcuff cutting into his wrist, or having to help solve this easy (well easy if he’d had his glasses) case. Reezki could solve it himself. He could eat all of Fukuzawa’s Smarties and he could even earn Fukuzawa’s praise…. No… His eyes opened then widened. He couldn’t let that happen. That praise was for Ranpo alone.

He accepted the glasses, knowing what he had to do. When he put them on, he imagined a bright white light surround him as his ability was activated.

“You asked about Shu because the first murder was done by him and you believe the ones that followed were all his doing too.”

L nodded. “Light Turner is carrying them out but he’s being manipulated by Shu. At least that’s the theory. Now, how would a dead man be able to kill people from beyond the grave?”

“He’s been brought back to lyfe. That is the only explanation.”

“Precisely. Glasses really do increase your deductive skills.” L reached out and took the glasses off.

“Now tell me, how are the murders being carried out?” He continued

Without the glasses, Ranpo just shrugged and turned, ready to wander around, forgetting he was still handcuffed to L.

“And without glasses, you have no deductive skills,” observed L. He held them out again for Ranpo to take. It wasn’t very often he had the opportunity to talk to someone actually intelligent. Sometimes he felt like he was surrounded by Leorios and Matsudas. Ranpo was an idiot without the frames, but with them, L could actually consider him an equal.

“Kiwi needs a face and a name to commit murders,” announced Ranpo immediately, and L nodded, having already figured that much out of course. “And as for what he uses… let’s Google it.”

Chapter Text

It hadn’t taken long to find Shinigrindr – a matchmaking site for shinigami. Neither of them had much experience in the women department – L didn’t have time for that, and Ranpo was too pure (he’d never even had alcohol)- so they’d had to enlist the help of Tamaki and Dazai to chat up a Shinigami called Rem into giving them all the information they needed. She’d told them all about the Death Note (“Death note? As in a notebook of death?” all four of them had said in unison.)

And then Dazai and Tamaki started to argue over who had been better at charming Rem and a strange situation developed with Dazai taking out a gun and threatening a ‘Kuma-chan'.

L had been eating a banana and dropped the banana peel on the floor. Akutagawa who was trying to crawl towards Dazai, slipped on the banana peel and skidded towards the wall. As he tried to steady himself, he tripped on a marble and went crashing through the glass window, screaming, “NOT TODAY, SATAN.”

While all this happened, Chuuya sat in the background, singing like always.

. . .

Light Turner arrived on the Oxbridge premises, holding his Nimbus tree tousand. A Quidditch match had been organised, and for Light, this was another opportunity to kill. Shu had said that when Light killed everyone he desired revenge on, they could be together. Light had always loved Shu. He’d found excuses to visit Oxbridge despite the university rivalry, just to see the janitor mop floors and clean toilets. He had been devastated when the 30 year old virgin died. How was he supposed to live out his dream of taking the older man’s virginity now? But then Shu had come back to him. Apparently he’d eaten a Life-Life devil fruit once so upon death, could come back to life.

Shu had a list of names of those he wanted dead. Usopp, for betraying him by falling for Light. Tonpa, for putting laxatives in his Fanta once. Yuri Katsuki, for being mentored by Victor, when all he wanted was for Victor to mentor him (in the bedroom that is). Kuranosuke for stealing Tsukimi, his first love, from him. Gon… well he just didn’t like Gon. And now he wanted to kill Shanks' bitch Luffy, make Shanks watch, and then kill Shanks. That hadn’t gone so well the first time, but he’d learnt from his mistakes. This time, he wouldn’t do it where chairs or cheeseboards were anywhere near, and he would use the dyslexic kid with a Death Note to do it.

Light's eyes scanned the grounds, trying to locate the Red-haired teacher. With his other victims, it was easy to recall their faces. With Shanks, however, he’d always been too busy staring at the straw hat– best fashion accessory he’d ever seen– to actually know what he looked like. Apparently imagining a straw hat wasn’t enough for the Death Note to work. He knew because he’d tried. Or maybe it hadn’t worked because he’d also spelt Shanks wrong… he needed to read a name wrong, then write it wrong, for the written name to be correct.

He finally spotted the professor talking to a guy so hot there were actual flames coming off of him. Shanks' bitch was with them, running around in a circle with the excessively stylish straw hat on her head. Light had never been so jealous of a dog before. He swallowed the envy and walked over to the two men, carefully taking in the handsome, out-of-his-league teacher’s face, and reading the name floating above his head.

“Ah you must be here for the Quidditch match,” said Shanks amicably. “It’s right over there in that inconspicuous den.”

His hand rested casually on his sword, and his eyes were hard. Light's knees buckled and he found it hard to stay standing. Light felt Light…-headed and it took everything he had to not collapse. He decided the only way to be able to kill the bitch and Shanks was to catch them off guard. As it was, he was fighting just to stay conscious. He dragged his feet along as he walked over to the den where the match was to be held.

“You barely used Haki but that guy still couldn’t stand being around you. Just how weak is he?” questioned Ace.

Shanks just shrugged. “I don’t like using Haki around the dog, so I wasn’t really consciously using any. So, yeah, weaker than Sakura,” he shook his head. “He would never make it as a pirate.”

“So… why did you name the bitch after Luffy?“ asked Ace of his uncle. Luffy was the fire-user's bungling kid brother.

“Because she likes to steal my hat as much as he does. I also liked the idea of having a dog with ‘Monkey' in its name.” Shanks answered.

Chapter Text

It was only when Light got to the doors of the small den that he started wondering why a match for an outdoor sport would be held in there, especially since the Oxbridge Quidditch grounds were the best nation-wide. Disregarding his suspicions, he walked in confidently. If he had been smarter, it would have been obvious it was a trap. But then again, it was because he was so lacking in the intellect department that no effort had gon into making the trap subtler.

What he found inside was a strange pretty boi sitting in an odd position, as well as who he recognised as Ranpo. He did a double take when he took a proper look at Ranpo. He was wearing the coolest pair of glasses that Light had ever seen. Red with pink hearts on them. In that moment, all Light wanted from lighf were those glasses. There were several big bowls of Smarties on the table. There was another figure in the shadows whose face Light couldn’t quite make out.

“Light Turner,” L held up a pink Smartie between his thumb and forefinger and popped it into his mouth. “Otherwise known as…. Kiwi”

Light wiped his sweety palms on his feet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said, before whipping around and screeching. “Ryuk! Kill them! Kill them all now!”

“Well that pretty much confirms it,” said L. “Not that confirmation was needed. Now tell me, where is Shu?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Light’s voice was shaking as he looked around for an escape route. “I’m just a smol boi. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

It was just as he said that, that he reached over and snatched Ranpo’s too kool for skool glasses, knowing how helpless the pure lad was without them.

“Noooooooo,” wailed Ranpo, feeling his ultra deduction slipping out of his fingers the way sweat was slipping off of Light’s fingers and toes.

L decided now was the time. The time for candour. “You don’t need glasses. And you don’t need Smarties. You know why? Because you have no ability.”

It was the cruellest thing anyone had ever said to Ranpo. His ability was all he had, what was he without it? He scowled at L. “What do you know Rizuki? My ability is what keeps the Armed Detective Agency going, and it makes me the World’s greatest detective.”

“Ryuzaki! Actually you know what - just call me L. And yes you’ve said all that before. The world’s greatest thing is still false but that’s a debate for the fangirls. Just put glasses on, and think about your ability.” He pulled out a pair of glasses from his pocket and handed them to Ranpo, who took them with shaking fingers.

It was when he put them on that he knew. He knew it had all been a lie. He realised his ability was as non existent as the tiger following Atsushi. He felt as empty as Shu’s sex life when the implications hit him.

“Are you upset because I’m eating all the Smarties and there aren’t that many left?” asked L, catching Ranpo’s expression. “Here.” He pressed three green ones into Ranpo’s hand.

“No.” said Ranpo but he ate them anyway.

“I don’t have an ability either,” said L indifferently. “Being naturally smarter than everyone else is an ability of it’s own kind though.”

Ranpo’s eyes opened and he looked at L in wonder. If he didn’t have an ability… his ultra deduction worked all the time with no limitations!

“Thanks… friend,” he said.

L’s own eyes widened. “It seems I have gained yet another friend. “ He said to himself. “A second one. Yay, fun.”

L’s first friend was the shadowy figure with them in the room. The figure walked forward to Light who had tried to take advantage of the situation and attempted escape only to be thwarted by Chuuya, who had been singing in the corner (not that anyone noticed).

“I, Lelouch vi Brittania, command you,” the figure ordered, authority ringing in his voice, his geass activated, “reveal Shu’s location at once! Then walk straight out, talk to no one and kill y–“

“We’re not killing him, just throwing him in jail,” corrected L. “Sociopaths,” he muttered to himself. “There are none as bad as Light Yagami though. “

“Who?” everyone asked, but L ignored them.

“Talk to no one and turn yourself over to the police.” Lelouch commanded.

Light nodded. “Shu is outside, taking a leak in the bushes. “ He said before obediently turning around and leaving to go to the authorities.

“I’ll levitate him back to the university, and everyone there can decide through rock-paper-scissors who gets the kill,” offered Chuuya.

“Yeah you do that, Mr. Fancy Hat. “ said Ranpo

. . .

Somehow Leorio won rock paper scissors but was quite unsuccessful in killing Shu, so Hawkeye just stepped in and pierced the ex janitor with his least favourite dagger.

Fukuzawa had thanked L and Ranpo with an all you can eat buffet of Smarties.

He’d also said they should call themselves the Boy Detectives Club but Ranpo had laughed at him and made immense fun of the name stating no detective book would ever have a detective agency with that name, because it was so stupid.

Tamaki and Dazai competed to see who could pick up more girls.

Everyone puked on Kunikida's Ideal.

Shanks cancelled his Astrology lesson because his bitch stole his hat again.

Just like any other day at Oxbridge University.

Chapter Text

Confiteor Deo Omnipotenti

Beatae Mariae semper Virgini

Beato Michaeli archangelo

The line of Armed Detective Agents moved slowly. Chuuya sung mournfully in Latin at the end, following behind his ex-partner Dazai. The secret underground Oxbridge temple was lit poorly, moss sticking to aged stone pillars and dank walls. It smelt like damp, with no air circulation – dim tiki torches in the hands of each ADA member, Tamaki, and the ten-year-old Great Luffini (Shanks’ nephew). Their faces were angular and shadowed by the ill lighting, Tamaki’s blonde hair fluffed over his brow, blue eyes molten and glazed with sorrow, jaw clenched in seriousness.

The group circled the pentagram drawn on the floor in ketchup, and a bit of mayo when the initial condiment ran out. Long robes swept the stone floor in a static noise, hoods pulled over the faces of all those present. Solemn expressions pasted everyone’s faces.

The young Great Luffini’s magical abilities were still being honed in on as the group circled the pentagram, and for a moment they latched onto Tamaki’s thoughts.

Well, readers, Tamaki thought, I suppose you’re wondering what’s going on here? Why is the glorious King, moi, present at a satanic ritual? Well, dear readers, I suppose to find out why I must tell you a tale from long ago in a far away land – three hours ago, upstairs in Professor Shanks’ office.

As you are all well aware from earlier chapters in this fanfiction posted on this very website many moons ago, Atsushi died, leaving behind a beautiful fur coat and his lonely mentor. Thankfully we found a replacement – Kyoka Izumi – though many agents thought, well…

“She’s a menace! Look at what she did to my Ideal!” Kunikida held up the flimsy notebook – really, it could have done with better binding, perhaps a leather cover, though perhaps as a peasant it was sufficient for his needs. Someone had drawn on a page in red and blue crayon; three stick people of differing lengths and arms as long as their bodies, with the words ‘My Familee’ scrawled unevenly over the clouds.

The beautiful lady Yosano was next to stand and talk, “And the amount of people she’s killed! She keeps on changing the number – it’s all she ever says or talks about! – I’m Kyoka,” Yosano imitated, “And I’ve killed thirty five people!”

“Dazai-san, you NEED a new mentee,” Tanizaki said.

Dazai stood by my side. “I miss Atsuhi. Atsuhi-kun!”

“Kyoka is annoying,” Kenji said. “We’ll bring Atushi back!” The peasant adjusted his hat on his dry, straw-like hair desperately thirsty for some TRESemme.

The Great Luffini managed to reel his powers away from Tamaki’s internal thoughts, the ten-year-old using the strength of Chuuya’s constant mourning cry and the welling hatred the group had for Kyoka (or in Tamaki’s case, his sadness for his close friend Dazai). His knees shooketh. Sweat poured down his brow.

And in the middle of the pentagram, in the gushing smoke, a writhing body appeared at the Great Luffini’s summoning – Shu, the thirty-year-old virgin janitor.

“He’s pregnant,” Luffini cried. “Pregnant – with Atsushi.”

“He’s the one who ate Atsushi!” Dazai cried. “He ate my subordinate!”

“It only make sense,” Luffini said, falling to his knees, huffing from the energy exerted for the summoning. “Atsushi – his body – was last in…Shu’s…” Kenji knelt by Luffini, grabbing his shoulder to hold him up, “The pregnancy period – is nine days. Kill him before that, and…there will be no chance…of bringing Atsushi…back.”

Everyone groaned. Chuuya walked up to an unconscious Shu in the middle of the pentagram and kicked him in the head.

Chapter Text

Sanji lit up his Benson & Hedges cigarette while staring out the rain spattered window, "Do you think they're done yet?"

"Who cares?" Replied Zoro, his lack of concern apparent.

"It is the only way to get rid of that bitch – I mean girl." As much as he hated Kyouka, Sanji couldn't bring himself to insult a female under 80.

He thought back to that morning - Luffy, who they'd learnt was Shanks' ten year old nephew, was runing around the Oxbridge grounds, looking for something. He had picked up Zoro's swords, causing the moss-haired swordsman to snatch them back, growling at the kid to never touch his blades again.

Luffy scowled, "the Great Luffini will curse you and turn into green dogfood!" He said dramatically.

"You know the Great Luffini?" Asked Sanji, who'd just been re-rejected by Nami for the hexillionth time, and was now smoking his sorro away on a nearby bench.

Zoro's momentary annoyance subsided, as he pondered this; the magician was world-famous, even Nekozawa's mighty powers paled in comparison. In fact the black magic user was probably the Great Luffini's most devoted fan. He had posters, action figures, T shirts and even a sock puppet he'd recently replaced Belzonoff with.

"Hey, brat, what would it take for you to get us in touch with him?" Questioned Sanji.

"Meat! No – wait- meat AND a new collar! Someone – definitely not me – lost Uncle Shanks' dog's collar, while I – that person- was playing fetch with it."

"You lost Luffy's collar?"

"Hey, I don't wear a collar!"

"I mean the dog, you idiot." Snapped Sanji. He hadn't thought he'd ever meet anyone denser than Moss-head, yet there was this child.

"We'll find the collar, just get the Great Luffini here for this afternoon."

Zoro and Sanji couldn't be bothered to actually look for the collar, rather they'd opted to just buy a new one. Given its surprisingly high cost, they'd had to steal and sell Atsushi's fur.

("Would this be missed? - no why would it be? - it's just Atsushi." Said Zoro. )

True to their deal, on receiving the collar, Luffy ran out of the room, and instead in came the Great Luffini. Sanji's eyes widened, as he took in the wizard's appearance. Luffy was wearing a black robe as well as a tall, pointy hat. This young, dim-witted child... was the Great Luffini? He glanced at Zoro and immediately realised the moron hadn't quite picked up on it yet.

"Er Great Luffini?, we need your assistance in -er- a resurrection." Said Sanji, deciding to humour the kid- if the boi thought his disguise worked, might as well let him believe it, after all it was working on Zoro (not that that was saying much).

He explained the situation. Zoro, the imbecile, had pushed his beautiful Nami, causing a fight to unfold. Kunikida's Ideal had somehow gotten in the crossfire and ended up sliced and burnt. To make it up to Kunikida, Zoro and Sanji had promised to find a way to bring Atsushi back, so that they could all forever be free of Kyouka, who had killed 37 people – or was it 54 people – or 69 people, whatever the effing number was.

By the time he was done with the exposition, Luffy was stroking his nonexistent beard, and Zoro seemed to finally – a whole twenty minutes late – realise Luffini and Luffy were one and the same (well better late than never).

"Okay," said Luffy. "But first I need meat. And ketchup. Lots and lots of ketchup."

Chapter Text

Leorio gayzed at himself in the mirror. I am beautiful, he thought. He wore a long white frilly wedding dress, gracefully highlighting his figure. His makeup was done- his lashes were long and his face contoured. He slipped on his heels and quickly jogged to the car to take him to the church, where his beloved was waiting for him.

The church was packed with their fiends. Leorio went to Sheffield Harem University to study medicine, but had been friends with many of the Armed Detective Agency in secondary school, and had quickly become friends with the Oxbridge students through meeting them at one of their many parties. Everyone thought highly of Leorio, and had voted him to be a student representative despite not going to his school.

Leorio arrived at the church and began to make his walk down the aisle. The music swelled the further he went, Chuuya’s voice floating and reverberating throughout the hall. Leorio was nervous, but excited to make his vows to the one he loved most in this world.

He was just passing Shu, his belly swollen with the growth of the ever-growing Atsushi, when suddenly the doors burst open and a man staggered through.

“Stop! Gon!” the man shouted.

The mysterious man jogged up to Leorio.

“Gon!” the man greeted him and pulled Leorio into a hug. “I’m back,” he whispered, then raised his voice, “just in time for your wedding!”

“W-w-what?!? Who are you?” Leorio spluttered. He felt confusion fall over him. Had he gotten Leorio and Gon confused? Leorio secretly felt proud to be mixed up with the smart and handsome young man that was Gon, however he refused to show this.

“Gon, I am your father,” the man said seriously.

“Wait, you’re Ging Freecs?” Leorio turned to the voice; it was the voice of his beloved, Kurapika, who waited at the alter, alongside Killua who was best man. Leorio thought Kurapika looked very handsome in his tuxedo, and began to blush.

“I suppose that does make sense,” Tamaki began. “I mean they do look very similar- the spikey black hair and brown eyes. They look more similar than Mori and Mori do- did,” Tamaki had to correct himself quickly, and turned to look apologetically at the remaining Mori, who smiled and nodded in forgiveness.

“Then Ging is my father!” Leorio gasped. “Daddy! You’ve come back from the shop after 15 years! I thought you didn’t love me!”

“I’ll always love you Gon, you’re my boyo after all.”

“Daddy,” Leorio moaned in elated happiness. “Please walk me down the isle, it is my wedding day after all.”

“Of course ma boi,” Ging replied happily, eager to please the boi he thought to be his son.

Ging offered his arm out to Leorio, who took it. They continued their walk down the isle, with the sounds of Tamaki crying at how beautiful the reunion between the father and son was in the background to Chuuya’s silky voice.

They finally reached the isle, where Kurapika embraced his husband-to-be, and went on to make their vows.

The ceremony went without incident, though Leorio did mistakenly try to kiss the priest instead of his partner.

The wedding was a success, and everyone threw confetti as the couple emerged from the church, except Kalluto who wasn’t allowed.

Chapter Text

The wedding was over; Chopper had a wedding date who pushed his wheelchair, headed to the reception. Everyone was chatting and laughing. Everyone was happy.

Kurapika had his arm around his beloved’s waist, Leorio’s waist cinched in the form-fitting dress. The pair were the first to open the door to the venue.

The couple stopped with a gasp. The crowd behind them started to mutter impatiently.

“Get a move on!” Sanji yelled. “These beautiful women don’t deserve to be held up!”

Kurapika held his tall boi closer, protective over his wife.

The Oxbridge students slid closer to the front of the crowd, looking over their shoulders.

“Is that…”

Yasopp, who had lost Usopp’s funeral invitation ‘in the post’, held Chopper up, his hands on Chopper’s hips, holding him high enough so he could see everything.

“Pokkle!” Shu moaned, crying out in anguish as he got wet, water breaking, knees buckling.

Multiple people started to sob. Everyone loved Pokkle. Even Yasopp was seen wiping a tear away. Pokkle, star student in Oxbridge, award-winning chef, all-around good guy. The most loved. Kenji screamed in terror. Ranpo shook. Perhaps not even Smarties or praise would fix this. Fukuzawa put his arm around Ranpo and held him close; Killua fainted in shock. Kunikida jumped out the window – “Not today, Satan!”

Pokkle was strung from the artistic wooden beams crossing over the ceiling. Blood was still warm, dripping from his limp body; he was only recognisable because he had his purple hat on – his skin was pulled back to reveal red, pulsing flesh, his body maimed and mutilated. Kurapika held his sobbing bride closer. Pokkle’s body twitched in death, a pile of his skinned skin on the floor under his feet.

Dazai gripped Shu’s elbow, trying to keep him from collapsing. “His water can’t break now!” Dazai shouted. “It’s premature – what about Atsushi?”

Tamaki came up to his close friend, looking at the pale Shu (blushing), “Keep your legs crossed, Shu – one more day, just one more day!”

Chapter Text

Shu couldn’t wait one more day, it seemed.

“No!” Dazai cried, looking over to the magician, “Save Atsushi.”

Luffini didn’t seem to care. “It’s too late,” he said through a mouthful of meat. “Atsushi must come now. Let Shu’s body do all the work. He’ll know what to do when the time comes.”

Shu gasped in pain. “IS it a contraction?” he cried. “It feels like my insides are being torn apart.”

“They probably are,” Luffini said casually. “The process has begun.” He looked at the Oxbridge students as seriously as a ten-year-old with his mouth full could. “Atsushi will now begin to eat his way out of Shu’s body.”

Chuuya sang action music in the background as everyone looked at Luffini in shock.

“Please!” Shu cried, “This is the first time I’ve had a man inside me, I don’t want it to be the last!” the virgin shouted. “Please,” Shu grappled the collar of Dazai’s trench coat, “Save meeee!”

“You killed my subordinate! You deserve less than Kunikida’s Ideal does!”

Shu gasped in pain. “It hurts,” he sobbed. “Please. Please. Make it stop.”

Honey in his male form pulled out a picnic blanket and cake. “Does anyone want a picnic?”

The living Mori sat beside him, as did Kenji, Kurapika, Leorio (on Kurapika’s knee), and Tamaki, who leant forward to cut the cake evenly. “Wow Honey, this cake is great. Really light and fluffy. Shu, do you want some?”

“I’m getting eaten from my inside out!”

“Is that a no? Or a maybe later?” Tamaki asked, still holding the cake knife.

Guts and blood splattered everyone in the face, body – Shu’s body tore in two, the graphic noise of flesh ripping as Atsushi burst from his stomach, torso ripping; Atsushi gulped for breath, white hair dyed red in blood, Shu’s congealed insides sticking to his naked skin.

Atsushi drew himself out of Shu’s body, Luffini taking a slice of red, bloody cake. Shu gasped his last breath, “Usopp…I always loved,” he gasped, “you. I always – loved…you.”

Atsushi staggered to his mentor, “Dazai-san,” he said hollowly, legs trembling as he walked and giving way when he fell into Dazai’s arms.

“I have no such tastes in men,” Dazai said, pushing Atsushi aside and dropping him to the floor.

Chapter Text

Everyone stood sadly around the gravestone. The description read, ‘Pickle, gon but never forgotten’. Tamaki wiped a stray tear while Honey sobbed loudly, hugging Mori’s legs. Even Mori’s stony exterior was cracking, face wrinkled in distress. Pokkle had just been buried in the graveyard outside. Everyone in the whole of the universe was there to witness the sad event; it was recorded and broadcasted to everywhere. Even an alien spaceship hovered above the grounds, light illuminating Pokkle’s gravestone. Atsushi looked around, wondering where his gravestone was. Little did he know he was in a cardboard grave among the peasants, inscribed with ‘@sushyy’.

Fukuzawa was the first to speak, breaking the mournful ambience.

“Pokkle,” Fukuzawa took a deep breath, “he was the finest specimen of a human this university has ever seen.”

An alien from the spaceship opened his window, “And this universe! Pokkle was EVERYTHING.”

Fukuzawa wiped the tears on his face, sniffling loudly. Ranpo looked up at him, distressed by Fukuzawa’s distress, chest heaving with pain. He opened his eyes for the first time in weeks, just to blink the tears away and clear his cloudy vision.

“Pokkle was a st-star student,” Fukuzawa sobbed. “He was my second favourite student, next to my sun.” Fukuzawa took Ranpo’s hand, lips wobbling. Ranpo’s eyes widened as his breathing got shallower, tears dripping off his cheeks as he held a hand to his mouth. “He’ll be sorely missed.”

Hawkeye was the next to speak. The music teacher cleared his throat and pulled out an old receipt of his recent Tesco grocery shop (sake and cheese puffs). He read off the back.

“Pokkle,” Hawkeye squinted so he could read his rushed handwriting, “had a beautiful singing voice.”

Chuuya tried to stop the flood of tears that arose from the comment, but was unsuccessful as they poured down his face. All the years he’d spent trying to perfect his own voice! Singing lessons, voice training – his hands trembled, his cat ears and tail popped out in anger. “Senpai-san!” Chuuya cried. He stood up and fled from the scene (it took him three hours to navigate his way out of the large crowd).

Kakashi was the next to stand, clapping slowly. Soon the millions of people attending the funeral stood to clap. “He has such a way with words,” Kakashi muttered, smiling proudly. Shanks nodded, looking up from his Tamagotchi for long enough to share a smile with Kakashi.

Hawkeye crumpled up his receipt, tossing it over his shoulder. Victor Nikiforov, the Binman Studies teacher, caught it and ate it. Dry, yet succulent.

Shanks got up and cleared his throat, ready to speak. The sadness was clear in his eyes as he mourned the deceased. “Pokkle was a kind, considerate young man. He was there, always ready to lend a helping hand. Whenever I had to go through university applications, he was with me.”

“Including the time Shanks let Tamaki in as a joke?” muttered Kakashi to Hawkeye. The two of them snorted with laughter, remembering Tamaki’s personal statement all relating to how he was a ‘king’.

The beautiful Ace, shirtless and in orange shorts (very appropriate attire for a funeral), was eating a drumstick he’d found on a plate at the venue. He used the bone to play fetch with dog Luffy. Chopper watched on from his wheelchair, two front legs mysteriously missing.

Kunikida, wrapped in layers of bandages so much that he looked liked Dazai, stood up and shouted in anger and exasperation, “He wasn’t there! Pokkle – you always catch me when I fall, when I jump out of windows, when my Ideal is in jeopardy: you’re always there to help me! Where were you! I jumped out of the window,” Kunikida shouted, “You weren’t there!”

Yasopp got up, eyes red from sobbing so much. “I remember...” he choked on his own words, before trying again. “I remember the time I watched the security footage of my son and the janitor kissing. Pokkle was there, wiping the whiteboard, watching. He was there helping me upload it on Pornhub.”

An alien in a spaceship cried out, immediately going on to their laptop to download this ‘Pornhub’ just so they could see Pokkle one last time.

“I killed seventy-five people. It was my highest score on GTA, and Pokkle was there, watching me – always watching! He supported me and helped me achieve my dream number of deaths on GTA.” Kyoka shouted. “Grand Theft Atsushi is my favourite game!”

“Wait,” Killua muttered to the boi next to him. “So they weren’t rael deaths???? :o”

Nekozawa was the next to speak. Sendo protected him from the sunlight and the light the aliens sent with an umbrella. “He always supported me, in every decision I made to curse someone, never judging. He even helped with them, indeed it was him that decided to body switch Dazai and Tamaki, as he also believed they needed to be punished for their insolence-”

Tamaki interrupted Nekozawa, passion making his voice quiver. “Pokkle was such an amazing peer! Putting Dazai and I on the right track! What a delightful person – how beautiful. I remember when Pokkle went ahead and shaved half my eyebrow off, just so I would stop being vain!” Tamaki winced through the tears, the memory of his half-eyebrow assaulting him. Still, he took a deep breath and spoke through the pain. “Pokkle saw past the physical realm and tried to help us all accept what was inside–“ Tamaki’s lips wobbled. “Pokkle! Pokkle! Please come back!”

Kaoru held Tamaki close. “It’s okay, Boss.”

Dazai frowned, watching his close friend cry over his deep loss.

Zoro stood. “I was lost. He got me more lost.” He sat.

Victor cleared his throat, having finished eating Hawkeye’s receipt. “Pokkle gave me the best meal – after helping Shanks with applications he graciously binned Kurapika’s. It was delicious, perhaps the best application I’ve ever eaten and seen. It even rivalled Pokkle’s. Thankfully Shanks didn’t see it, or Kurapika wouldn’t have gone to Sheffield Harem and we would have no university to compete with!”

Ranpo pulled away from his father – oops, Fukuzawa – and said proudly, “Pokkle was there when @sushyy was eaten! He supported me and helped me watch. He even held my head in place when I tried to look away.” Fukuzawa patted Ranpo’s shoulder comfortingly, smiling down at him.

“He – he…” Kenji’s voice shook, his face was tear-stained, “He was there to help during harvest season. He once replaced the seeds with pebbles. It caused a famine. He was such a playful boy.”

Chopper brayed into Yasopp’s shoulder. “He was there to help me when I had a pebble stuck in my front hoof. He solved the problem by chopping the leg off. He then chopped the other one off too.” He blew his nose into Yasopp’s hair.

Ace slowly looked at the bone from the drumstick he’d eaten to Chopper and back again, his mind putting two and two together. He then shrugged and continued playing fetch with Shanks’ dog.

“Guys, he doesn’t sound so nice. He sounds really mean.” Luffy looked around. “Is there any meat?”

The realisation suddenly dawned on everyone. Could it be true? Could Pokkle really be evil? Chopper looked down at his missing legs. Perhaps it was mean to cut them off. Perhaps it was mean to cause a famine. Perhaps it was mean to force Ranpo to watch cannibalism.

Atsushi smirked. Finally, everyone realised how terrible Pokkle was. Now maybe they’d give Atsushi the funeral he deserved.

Chapter Text

“All rise for Judge Atsushi.”

Atsushi walked down the stands, his hand clenching as he walked, anger clearly simmering behind his BEAUTIFUL eyes. He was upset. This court case took a lot from him. He was invested in this grisly case. Images of Pokkle stirred in his mind. How dare he get a better funeral than Atsushi did! How dare Atsushi get no funeral at all! Atsushi sat in the judge’s seat. On his right were the tearful faces of Pokkle’s victim’s parents. His heart bled for them. He swallowed a lump of grief. How would the headmaster of the orphanage, the only father he’d ever known, feel in their position?

Atsushi had invited him, proud of himself. Atsushi turned to look at the end of the pew – the empty seat – the seat of his father. This time he couldn’t just swallow away his grief.

Sanji ran up to him, leaning over the stand. “Atsushi, I can understand why you would be upset with us about your missing fur – but you have to realise we were grieving because of your death. There was a child dying of pneumonia outside your old orphanage. I had your fur in my hand and I had to give it to that young boy, to save his life.”

Atsushi wasn’t sure what this ‘pneumonia’ was but it sounded serious.

“I’m glad my fur was used to help someone. It was the best thing you could have done with it. Tell me… did the boy live?” his eyes were tearful, and he reached out to touch Sanji’s shoulder.

Sanji bowed his head, shadows of his bangs covering his face. Atsushi took that to mean the unthinkable had happened.

“Oh.” He said, lowering his head.

Sanji was trying hard not to laugh. Atsushi was buying this. It was a story not even that moss haired idiot would have believed. How was this kid a judge when he was so unbelievably dumb?

Sanji turned, ready to head back to his seat. Just then the prosecuting lawyer walked in – Hisoka.

“Oh shit.” He muttered when he saw what the attorney was wearing.

Everyone fell silent. Hisoka strutted down the aisle, his entourage falling behind him: Illumi, Ging and Pariston, with Kalluto throwing confetti in front of him, like a flower boi. Resting on Hisoka’s shoulders and flowing down, nearly touching the floor, was a beautiful white fur coat. ATSUSHI’S WHITE FUR COAT!

“Sorry I’m late, my kittens,” Hisoka trilled with grandeur. With a flourish he showed off his whole outfit, slim suit with – de fur. “I couldn’t find my coat – but the wait was worth it, I’m sure.” He walked up the aisle between the seats, shoes clipping the floor. He got to his seat and looked up towards the judge.

The raw potential, power, thrummed through Hisoka’s chest, adrenaline making his heart flutter. The judge, a powerful young man, stared down at him from the stands. Judge Atsushi. Hisoka wondered if Atsushi would allow him to call him that in bed. He bit his lip and his tongue peeked out, licking them.

“Judge Atsushi,” Hisoka ran his hand down the white fur on his shoulders, “Let me stroke you like this fur.” He smirked, leaning forward.

Atsushi felt rage build inside him, he was having trouble keeping his cat tail and ears in. The realisation that Sanji had lied to him hit him almost as hard as Akutgawa’s punches with Rashomon. Atsushi was now committed to destroying Oxbridge University, he will bring them down.

Then he glanced over at the people watching in the pews- his beloved teachers, unlike his father, they were there, supporting him. They were his family, he couldn’t abandon them. Fukuzawa had been like a father to him. He couldn’t abandon them. Shanks, standing supportively; the Shanks who helped him realise not to be ashamed of his cat ears and tail, who encouraged him to feel comfortable in his own fur, petting him when he was down. Hawkeye, the music teacher played the triangle to him when he was down. They were family. Even Victor, the creepy aunt of the family, was there. He gave Atsushi a toothy grin, garbage stuck between his teeth.

The lawyer for the Oxbridge side was Luffy – not the bitch, but the boi. Atsushi’s heart welled with pride. The ten-year-old would certainly be an asset to the defence team.

Atsushi decided he would try his hardest to take a neutral stance on the court case. He shifted his papers and turned to his people.

Watching this court case unfold on the television was Lord Goo, holding a champagne flute.

Chapter Text

Judge Atsushi rapped his gavel on the table. “Be seated. The premise of this case is the prosecution- the parents of students at Oxbridge- claim Pokkle was a bully that Oxbridge never acted against. Their inaction caused emotional and physical scarring as well as loss of life. The defense protects the actions of the senior staff- Fukuzawa, Shanks, Hawkeye, Victor and Kakashi. Let the prosecution begin.”

Hisoka stood, turning to address twelve of the thirteen brothers from Brother’s Conflict who made up the jury. They all happened to have jury duty at the same time, excluding the youngest who was indeed too young. “Gentlemen of the jury, Pokkle is a bad guy.” Hisoka sat down with a flourish, looking at his judge boyo seductively.

The clapping started off slowly from Leorio near the back of the stands. Someone else joined, and within seconds the whole room was filled with applause, whooping – even Atsushi was seen wiping a tear, moved by the empowering speech. It took only twenty minutes for the cheering to die down, and another twenty for order to be restored.

“Let there be a five minute break,” Atsushi announced, his voice trembling with emotion. He looked down at Hisoka with glassy eyes, the sexual tension broiling between them. “Hisoka… come to the back entrance.”

After the break Atsushi returned with rumpled clothes and Hisoka had a satisfied grin on his face.

The defense lawyer, Luffy, got up to say his one piece of an opening statement. The twelve brothers from Brothers Conflict, who formed the jury, smirked and muttered to each other about how no one could beat Hisoka’s strong argument.

Luffy sets down his bright blue plastic suitcase, filled with toys, on the table. Hawkeye handed him a receipt that Luffy had scribbled some notes on in pink crayon.

“Hi everyone! I’m Monkey D. Luffy and I want to be king of the pirates. Anyway, Pokkle was bad but everyone’s bad. The shorter Killua threw confetti just now, and didn’t even clean it up!”

Everyone looked at him, confused. His uncle Shanks smiled proudly and encouragingly.

“Also maybe Pokkle was m-m-a-n-p-i-“

“Manipulating.” Whispered Shanks.

“Menstriating everyone. I mean before you died you liked Pokkle too.” Luffy said to Atsushi. “Wasn’t there a time when he gave you catnip and you got so high you started licking him. You had a sleepover with Dazai, and I don’t know what you did, but Dazai said it was naughty. Did you cheat in a game or something?”

Atsushi blushed, thinking back to that steamy night, when his mentor taught him many new things.

“And didn’t all the parents think Pokkle was great or whatever?”

The parents sitting in the stands thought back to the university open day where it was meeting Pokkle that convinced them they definitely wanted to send their children here.

The crowd started mumbling in agreement. He was right. It wasn’t just the teachers at fault. Everyone had fallen for Pokkle’s façade.

Hisoka looked at the young boi. The raw potential, power, thrummed through Hisoka’s chest, adrenaline making his heart flutter. The lawyer, a powerful young boyo, was handing his receipt with notes on it to Victor who ate it.

“Would you have a naughty sleepover with me?” he asked the innocent child, licking his lips.

Within a second, Shanks, Hawkeye and Ace (who was also there and looking beautiful and shirtless, flip-flops suitable for the court setting), got up. Hisoka was beaten to a bloody pulp.

Yes! Hisoka thought. Yes! He relished in the feeling of the strong fists and raw power on his body, beating him. Hisoka moaned in happiness and pleasure. Not only did it feel so good, but their plan was working – the defence’s arguments were too puree, too strong, and this was the only way to undermine their argument. Underhanded, perhaps, yet it felt good – and it was working. Surely now the jury and judge would sympathise with the victims of Pokkle more.

Illumi watched on. His masochist friend would surely be injured beyond repair from this. Perhaps he should stand in and help him. Illumi lit a cigarette and watched on. Blood stained Hisoka’s suit.

Kalluto sighed. “Unless you want to be head lawyer Oni-chan, save Hisoka.”

The Zoldyck brothers were too late to step in; Atsushi had jumped over the stands, morphing his arm into a snow white tiger arm and pulled the groups apart.

“Oxbridge…” Atsushi said, eyes hard and serious as he looked towards his family. “This is not going well for you.”

Chapter Text

Another break was called to allow for Hisoka to be treated properly.

Tamaki began to panic. He couldn’t allow this to happen.

“Kyoya. I want to save this school!”

“Indeed it would be unfortunate for us if this school was closed,” Kyoya replied indifferently. “There’s not many schools that would allow for a host club to be run, and how can eye impress my father without making money…?” he trailed off.

“Then it is agreed! We must find someone to convince Atsushi to save the school. There’s no point focusing on the jury- they’re all too busy flirting with their sister to come to any kind of conclusion. Therefore, it must be moi, the King, who must take on this important task and save the school!”

“But Atsushi doesn’t even know who you are Senpai,” Haruhi drawled.

“That’s true. You wouldn’t make much of an impact on the young boi. In fact, according to my information, he very much looks up to Zoro. One day when the Armed Detective Agency were fighting the mafia, Zoro was walking past and pushed Atsushi out of his way, accidentally saving his life.” Kyoya mentioned.

“Then we must have Zoro assist us! Mori-Senpai, go wake him up.” Tamaki ordered.

Mori turned to where Zoro was sleeping, but nothing woke him. Everyone began to feel despair, how could they save the school now?

“Don’t worry peasants! I will save the day once again,” Tamaki cried.

Haruhi had a bad feeling about this.

10 minutes later, Tamaki was ready. He strutted out towards Atsushi, who was talking enthusiastically at Ace, who wasn’t paying him any attention.

“Atsushi-kuuuun!” Tamaki cried. Atsushi turned to see who he thought was Zoro.

“Z-Z-Zoro-Senpai-San?” Atsushi stuttered. “You’ve finally noticed me!”

“Of course, it is I, Zoro! That is who I am. I am definitely not anyone else. I am here to ask you, to beg of you, not to take into account Hawkeye, Ace and Shanks’ shanking of Hisoka. We are all peaceful bois. Do not allow the actions of peasants to affect what you know in your heart to be right! The school must survive, and it cannot without our beloved teachers.”

“Anything for you Zoro-Senpai-San!” Atsushi had hearts in his eyes.

“And, just to make you happy, we will give you the proper funeral you deserve. Everyone will be there; you, the aliens, me.”

Atsushi felt tears well behind his eyes. This was all he wanted. He nodded, unable to express how he felt through words.

“Good! That’s great. I’ll be going now. See yo-“ ‘Zoro’ broke off when another Zoro bumped into him. Slowly a wig fell off of the first Zoro, who wasn’t Zoro at all! It was Tamaki all along. The rael Zoro stumbled off, pushing past Atsushi, ignoring the situation.

Atsushi actually felt his cat ears and tail come out this time. He had never felt so humiliated. “This is so much worse than anything Pokkle did! Not even the famine was as bad this!”

Kenji began sobbing. “I lost my whole family in that famine! Then I found a new family here, in Oxbridge, but now it’s going to be torn apart by Atsushi!”

Dazai nodded in agreement.

“Dazai-san?” Atsushi began to sob. Snot dripped down his chin, tears dripping down his red cheeks. “I should never have been born! I don’t deserve love! I don’t deserve to live! I don’t even deserve a proper funeral, just throw me in the trash, Victor can eat me out just like Shu did!”

“Indeed it would be cheaper to do that,” Kyoya nodded, his eyes glinting behind his glasses.

Chapter Text

Lord Goo stood at the balcony, facing his city. The night was a dusky blue. His eyes shimmered in the city lights, flute of champagne in his hand.

“My Lord,” Sebastian said from behind him. “Young Master Doro is now in bed. He wouldn’t stop playing with those three swords you gave him.”

“Ah yes. Well thank you, Sebastian,” Lord Goo said gently.

“What kind of butler would I be if I couldn’t put the young master to bed?”

Lord Goo hummed at the statement. The cool night sky brushed his cheeks, stroked his hair. The world moved on, but right now Doro was in bed. That was all Lord Goo could bring himself to care about in that moment.

Chapter Text

Victor walked up to the witness box. Shanks, Hawkeye and Kakashi watched on, Shanks stifling his laughter behind his hand, Hawkeye struggling to keep a blank expression while Kakashi started up his phone and recorded Victor.

“I – I am key witness! I am not Pokkle. I was his teacher, yes, and I saw Pokkle – but I had nothing to do with it! I only taught him binman studies, nothing more! I never taught him how to kill people. I would NEVER do that. I’m innocent!

“We are clearly innocent! The overlap between the 8th moon of Sagittarius and the McDonald’s sign outside proves that the only thing we are guilty of is dining and dashing!”

Hawkeye snorted and Kakashi’s hand shook as he recorded his co-worker. “Man, he’s such a wimp,” Kakashi said to Hawkeye. Hawkeye tried to hide his face as he continued to laugh.

“He knows nothing about star signs,” Shanks said, looking on to the event. He seemed disappointed, but even his disappointment couldn’t hide his mirth. “This is almost as puree as Tamaki’s application.”

“Funnier than having Luffy as the lawyer.”

“Worth going to prison for.”

Kakashi and Hawkeye fistbumped as Victor trembled in the witness box.

“You know this is very immature,” Fukuzawa said from his seat. “Hardly helping the university’s reputation.”

“If you wanted the university to have a good reputation you shouldn’t have employed them,” Sasuke muttered, arms crossed.

Fukuzawa smirked.

Illumi, the replacement lawyer for the prosecution, stepped up to the stand once Victor stopped talking.

Illumi blew the cigarette smoke out into Victor’s face. Instead of grey smoke coming out, confetti showered the witness box. Kalluto rolled his eyes at his brother’s theatrics yet employed them for the bants.

“Tell me, jury, why is a defendant allowed to be a witness?”

The twelve brothers gasped. They just discovered their sister wasn’t into incest. Perhaps they would rather star in a Superlovers AU.

“Precisely,” Illumi said. “And tell me, did you, as a teacher at Oxbridge, ever inform the parents of the students who perished at the hands of not just Pokkle but also Shu and Light Turner?”

Atsushi winced, remembering the time Shu ate him (out).

Victor sweeted. He tried to gesture for help from the other teachers who pretended not to notice. The other teachers laughed more at his distress at that difficult question.

“I -I was never involved. I didn’t know.” Victor replied nervously.

“Our beautiful boy Tonpa died! And no one told us! We only realised when he didn’t come home for Christmas!” a mother yelled from the crowd of parents.

There was a disconcerting hubbub which, thankfully for the Oxbridge tutors, covered the sound of their snorting.

The doors slammed open.

Lord Goo entered, Sebastian coming through behind him. Lord Goo’s glass of champagne was on Sebastain’s tray, ready for drinking. Lord Goo adjusted his tie.

“Now this silliness has gone on for long enough. Frankly I don’t care if people died. The only unfortunate thing is that Doro’s favourite reality show, Brother’s Conflict, is disrupted by the airing of this court case. Sebastian, who do you think is guilty?”

Sebastian recalled his ex-master, Ciel, who had been killed by Pokkle’s brutality.

“Oxbridge,” Sebastian said resolutely.

“Oxbridge is announced guilty. A year in prison. Maybe two, if I can be bothered to feed them for that long.”

Lord Goo turned to leave the court room. The vile dictator had ruled. The teachers of Oxbridge would be going to prison for a year, perhaps two if Lord Goo could be bothered to feed them for that long.

Chapter Text

Dazai sat at his desk for his astrology lesson. He twirled his Salvation Army pen between his fingers, watching the scene before him. Today it was Kyouka’s turn to teach the class. Ever since the teachers had been imprisoned by the vile dictator Lord Goo, the pupils had been taking it in turns to act as the lecturer. Lesson plans had been provided of course. On the back of a Waitrose receipt, there was only one word: “Stars.” However the only student that had followed the plan provided by Shanks had been Kyoya, the others improvised, deciding to lecture on their own chosen subject. At that moment, Kyouka had projected her GTA high scores on the smartboard. This was in preparation for the pop quiz they were going to have, all on the various people Kyouka had ‘killed.’ Atsushi was on his third page of notes, writing vigorously. His fingers were a bloody, swollen mess, his pages marked with sweat, blood and other bodily fluids due to his strenuous writing.

Dazai sighed. This was not what he was paying for. He was expecting a teacher who napped all day, often came in late, drunk or hungover, not this. Not actually having to pay attention. He needed freedom to let his mind wonder. Usually he was planning his double suicide and thinking of potential candidates. Haruhi seemed sad enough today. But most importantly, where will he do it? And how? Jumping off a building, poison, or maybe even death by flamethrower? Baldroy might have been interested helping out with that last one, if only he was still alive and not slaughtered by the beast Pokkle.

His thoughts were interrupted by Kyouka’s piercing voice. “I hope you’re paying attention Mr Dazai, this test will be reflected in your final grade”.

Dazai twisted round to look at his confidant, Tamaki.

“We must get the professors back. We’ll break into the prison tonight!”

The English Lit students had merged with the Astrology students during trying Oxbridge times, what with limited teachers and all. Sakura stood passionately, uselessness submerging those in her proximity.

“Yes!’’ she screamed. The windows shattered. “Yes! We must get Kakashi-sensei back! Ahh!’’

At her monstorous yowls many eagles flew through the smashed and cracked windows, flakes of glass smattering over the students. Sasuke watched on, bored, while other students batted glass off their uniform angrily. Sakura looked at Sasuke with urgency, though he ignored her.

“Sasuke! Sasuke, you’ll help me, won’t you?’’

Sasuke yawned in response.

Sakura then looked towards Naruto bent over a hardback book, ‘Make Out Paradise’. His eyes were blown wide as they crawled over lines of text.

“Ah!’’ Sakura screamed. “Porn! Satan! No!’’ She started screaming a scream of mortal terror, running towards the window, and then launched herself out screaming, ‘’NOT TODAY, SATAN!’’ Naruto looked up when he heard the thump of her body falling, though he was quick to go back to the book he was reading.

Tamaki stood on the teacher’s desk, knocking the keyboard out of Kyouka’s hands. “Let us save the teachers!’’ he shouted, the background sparkling. A large eagle landed on his shoulder, cawing.

Kyoya took a picture of the grand, spine-tingling image and uploaded the imagery of his senpai onto the Host Club website.

Pup Luffy ran around, more energetic than ever, as the Host Club and the Armed Detective Agency discussed possible plans of action.

Kunikida stood up. “According to my ideal, the Armed Detective Agency should use their abilities to break them out. The Host Club can watch if they want."

This proposal was met by protests by the Host Club.

"How dare you. We are the superior men," the twins, Kaouro and Hikaru, shouted simultaneously.

Ranpo turned to Hikaru in shock “I didn’t know you existed in this fanfiction!"

Kunikida scoffed. "And what exactly are you going to do?"

Tamaki raced to their defence, the eagle cawing in agreement "We must use our natural talents. I will seduce the guards at the gate, and we’ll stroll into the prison like welcomed guests."

Haruhi frowned. "Aren’t the guards dementors?"

Tamaki smirked. "One kiss from me would wow them all, it doesn’t matter who they are or what species."

Mori nodded in agreement, Honey sitting on his shoulders.

Kyoya frowned. "I wouldn’t recommend kissing them, that is how they take your soul after all, you might as well make a deal with a demon. However,” he peered down at his clipboard, "it is within our budget to dress up as dementors, if that is to your liking King"

"Hm. I agree, we shouldn’t kiss them, but we should dress up! That’s a brilliant idea! That’s what we should do, I came up with it. That’s right, it was all me."

Atsushi nodded, "you did do a convincing Zoro."

Kunikida scowled. "That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard, I refuse to go along with this. Clearly we cannot come to an agreement. We’ll have to go our separate ways. Armed Detective Agency vs. the Host Club!"

Chapter Text

The Host Club stood in Hawkeye's music room, glitter falling behind them as a backdrop.

''I am not shocked that we, the most notorious Host Club in all of Oxbridge, have manage to make even the costume of a dementor look so sexy,'' Tamaki boasted. He spread his arms and tendrils of black cloth swept from his limbs.

Meanwhile, the Armed Detective Agency were contemplating tactics to get their senseis out of prison.

''I remember when I had no family, before I joined the Armed Detective Agency and met all of you,'' Atsushi's hand quivered when he covered his eyes with it, shadowing his tears from onlookers.

''I know, Atsushi,'' Kenji soothed, rubbing his back. ''We'll get Fukuzawa back for Ranpo.''

''I haven't seen him since last night,'' Tanizaki commented. ''He's so upset, he’s probably hiding away from us.'' The conversation was putting a damper on the mood.

Shanks' pup waddled into the classroom with a jingle. Bells were on her new, flashy collar, sequined with the phrase 'DADDY'S LITTLE GIRL'. Atsushi petted her fur.

''Here's my plan, guys,'' Kunikida said, and the conversation ebbed into tactics.


Night had fallen. The Armed Detective Agency were ready, watching from the perimeter. Tanizaki and Kenji were sitting off to the side, waiting in the get away car, but also ready to act as back up in case things went wrong.

"Remember, don’t move until they give the signal," Kunikida warned; Atsushi and Dazai nodded back in understanding.

At that, an explosion sounded from the south side of the prison. The walls shook, some collapsing down in a shower of dust and debris, fire rising up, smoke forming a tower and crawling into the sky. More explosions followed, deafening the air.

The Lemon Guy had started his attack; the Armed Detective Agency had formed a temporary alliance with the Port Mafia, though only Kajii and Aktugawa agreed, however Dazai, acting as if Tamaki was still in his body, was also able to rope in the criminal known as Tennessee Williams into helping, in exchange for when he had saved his family. Their powerful abilities were causing a distraction, destroying the surrounding walls and buildings, allowing the Armed Detective Agency to sneak in undetected from the north of the complex.

The distraction worked, as the dementors slowly drifted towards them, ready to defend their prison.

The Armed Detective Agency moved forwards, ready to breach the outer wall.

Atsushi transformed his arm into a tiger arm, and smashed a hole into the wall. Kunikida moved first, pulling a page from his Ideal and morphing it into a gun, Dazai followed with his revolver gripped firmly between his thumb and forefinger. They sprinted quickly through the courtyard, arriving at a barred entrance. Atsushi ripped it off with ease. They penetrated the corridor, running forward.

Inside, two dementors were waiting for them, one especially small, the other too tall.

Kunikida and Dazai pulled up, raising their guns. Dazai's eyes widened slightly in recognition, then tucked his gun back into his coat. "Hey guys-"

Dazai broke off as Kunikida opened fire, shots echoing down the hall, bullets piercing flesh, blood spraying in crimson arcs.

The smaller dementor cried out, "You just shot Mori! I can’t lose this one too!"

Kunikida gasped. "It was the Host Club all along?" He fell to his knees, only now noticing the shabby costumes, and that they both had feet poking out of the bottom, rather than gliding through the air like his Google search had told him a dementor would. Tears started to spill down his cheeks.

Honey crouched beside Mori, tears streaking through the black oil grease he'd smeared on his face. Mori's costume became darker under the wetness of his blood and he clutched Honey's hand. ''H-Honey,'' he gasped, ''Honey.''

''No!'' Honey cried. But there were too many bullet wounds, too many shots, and... not enough time.

Kunikida watched on. His knees too were getting saturated with blood. His hands shook; he dropped his Ideal into the puddle of blood and screamed even louder. ''No!'' Kunikida yelled, the sound echoing through the halls. ''Not my Ideal!'' Kunikida's sobs echoed in his lungs and he passed out.

At this point, Yosano spawned into the room. She held a chainsaw aloft in her hands, a grin spreading across her face.

Unbuttoning her shirt, she told them, "time for you to close your eyes, this won’t be pretty."

Honey squeezed his eyes shut, and heard the screams of Mori, his dearest companion and cousin. He never thought he would hear Mori make those sounds outside of the bedroom.

When the screams stopped, they all opened their eyes. Mori stood, his wounds gon, glitter falling from his fresh glowing skin.

Then, Atsushi ran in, sweat dripping down his face, his eyes wide with terror.

"And where have you been?" Dazai asked.

"Guys! There’s a tiger following us! I think he’s going to eat me!" Everyone ignored him.

Further down the corridor, Tamaki and the rest of the Host Club appeared, clad in their dementor disguise.

"Guys! I think they're on a different floor. We've opened all the jail cells on this level, and can't find them."

Behind him swarms of thugs, murderers, and robbers were wreaking havoc. Dementors swooped in trying to get it all under control. The Host Club and the Armed Detective Agency took advantage of the chaos to rush upstairs, looking for their professors.

It was on the top floor that they managed to find the cell. With a trembling hand, Hikaro reached forward and palmed the door knob, taking it between his thumb and forefinger, jerking it open aggressively.

Chapter Text

The heavy metal door swung open. Cigar smoke swam on the floor in plumes, dusking over the ankles of the students. The walls were covered with portraits; Tanizaki recognised the Mona Lisa, Sunflowers by Van Gogh, Pathway by Monet. The original Bayeux Tapestry hung over the walls, rich red silks covering the greyness of the stone walls. In a glass case secluded to the corner was the Kohinoor diamond, pushed to the side as if it were too unimportant to take any of the attention of the captors. In actuality they had been allowing Shanks' nephew, Luffy, take it out of the glass box and play catch with it. Gobsmacked, they watched the sight before them.

Shanks lay over a studded leather loveseat, arm nestled over the back of the headrest with a cigar loosely clutched between two fingers. An emptying bottle of sake was on the floor by his head and his eyes were hooded and relaxed.

Hawkeye and Kakashi sat on a heavy diamond-studded Armani futon, throwing poker chips between each other, gentle tickle of their laughter perfuming the air. They hardly looked towards the students at the door, instead taking turns to pass a bottle of sake between them. Hawkeye was wrapped in a rich, wine-red robe made of the finest llama fur, eyes dark and sultry.

On the other side of the prison cell sat Fukuzawa with his finest student, Ranpo. They ate gold-leaf smarties and Fukuzawa drowned Ranpo in praise. Near them sat Sanji and Ace, Ace being exceptionally beautiful with over-the-knee board shorts and a large straw hat over his brow. They played with Shanks' wiggling pup, and suddenly the origins of the extravagant collar made sense.

Atsushi noticed Zoro laid on the silken afghan carpet, napping.

Victor sat in a corner, his face tear stained, chewing on a Harrods receipt Hawkeye had been gracious enough to let him have.

"Can someone just explain what's going on?" said Yosano, disbelief clear on her face.

"What are you all doing here?" asked Fukuzawa, just noticing the group of his students all gathered around in the room.

"We're breaking you out," replied Hikaru.

"Yeah we saw you all a few hours ago when we went to get supplies," said Kakashi, waving his cigar around.

"Supplies? Wait, you could get out this whole time?" kaoru was aghast.

"Sure, how do you think you got your lesson plans?" said Shanks, drowsily.

"And you guys KNEW?" Dazai looked at Ranpo, Zoro and Sanji.

"We’ve been here to learn, what have you been doing?"

Sanji motioned to their dream charts they had spent the last week working on.

"Although we could leave at any point, we must stay here to maintain Oxbridge's reputation, if we leave before our charge is up, we would be branded as unlawful criminals, and no one would trust us to teach their children. Until then, Shanks will continue to drop off his detailed lessons plans, make sure you follow them well and you’ll be sure to pass your exams. Good luck."

At that he turned back to his sun, instantly dismissing the students who had fought to reach them.

Dejected, they turned to leave, passing Light Turner's cell as they left. They all fist bumped him through the bars, congratulating him on killing Gon. Atsushi remembered to pick up the unconscious Kunikida as they left, draping his body over his shoulder.

They stepped out into the courtyard, eyes widening at the scene.

Akutagawa laid passed out on the floor; Tennessee was dead, his broken body sprawled over rubble. Yosano approached him, “He died from too much potency," she announced sadly, clearly emotional over his death.

In the corner, Kajii aka Lemon Guy was on his knees, a dementor bent over him, their lips entwined in a bid for dominance.

"Tennessee is dead, and you’re kissing a dementor!?!" Tamaki cried.

The dementor stopped at the sound of his voice, Kajii's body falling lifelessly to the ground.

The students ignored them, and walked out, ready to continue their education.

Chapter Text

Fukazawa stood at the head of the table. On the table was a velvet-covered item, hidden under a cloth. The teachers were all there; Hawkeye, Shanks, Kakashi, Victor. Ace stood to the side in his shorts, face shaded from lack of lighting. It reflected off his cupids bow and sculpted abs, visible through his unbuttoned shirt.

"Since we returned from prison, I’m sure you’ve all become aware of the issue that plagues our school.” Fukazawa placed one of his legs on a chair – Ace pulled apart the curtains at that exact moment, sunlight smattering perfectly over Fukazawa’s angular, beautiful face – he pulled one of the layers of his yukata open, revealing his puffed chest. His hair glimmered in silvered streaks, bright enough to awaken the snoozing Kakashi. “Our reputation is in tatters!” he shouted. The window smashed from his emotional energy. Thankfully the eagle infestation had been dealt with already. “We must do something to remedy this disgusting, disgraceful situation!”

Kakashi yawned. “Why? Our enrolment numbers haven’t been affected. We’re still the best school in the country.”

Fukazawa, ignoring his subordinate, spoke over him. “As I said, WE MUST REMEDY THIS SITUATION. We must – REMEDY – this situation. We must organise a –“ Fukazawa paused dramatically “- Triwizard Tournament!”

The teachers collectively gasped – though it was only Victor, his voice echoing around the room. He later turned to Ace, muttering, “What even is a Triwizard Tournament?” Ace didn’t reply.

Fukazawa pulled the purple cloth off the mysterious table item, “I found this bargain at the flea market, only 50p which is all Ranpo left me after buying a custom-built Smartie maker. We will gather our two greatest rivals, Sheffield Harem and Knottingham Trent – and when we beat them our school will be triumphant, our reputation restored, and Ranpo will make us all Smarties with our faces on!”

“We should try to minimise the deaths. Maybe under ten?” Hawkeye suggested.

“Five, maybe?” Shanks considers.

“No!” Fukazawa screamed, tears running down his face; if there were more windows to smash, they would be broken. “No deaths. Not this time.”


The Great Hall was filled with the three schools – Sheffield Harem, Knottingham Trent, and of course the most magnificent, Oxbridge. The air was filled with anticipation. Students clamoured behind the classmates they hoped to be chosen to represent their school in such a prideful time; Sanji, Zoro, Naruto, Sasuke, and Dazai were the Oxbridge hopefuls. Knottingham Trent supported Near, Akise, and Yuno as their competitors; Sheffield Harem had Kurapika and Killua.

The Goblet glowed in the centre of the hall. The Oxbridge teachers were confident that this would be a successful attempt to bring their school’s reputation as only the strongest and smartest minds had applied. They had tried to force Victor to apply, but Fukazawa stopped them with the greatest regret as teachers could not apply for the event, regardless of how humourous it would be.

The Goblet of Fire shone brightly, bluish white flames rising high. The flames suddenly turned deep red and a piece of paper fluttered out of it. Fukuzawa caught it and announced, ”the champion from Knottingham Trent will be…..Yukiteru Amano.”

Yuno starts crying out of fear for her ‘beloved’. How would they have their happy ending if Yuki died? Other students from the university muttered to themselves. Who was this ‘Yuki’ was the question on everyone’s lips.

The Goblet spat out another piece of paper.

“The champion from Sheffield Harem is….Leorio Paladiknight.”

There was a smattering of applause. Leorio was the popular jock of the institution. He may not be the best option but the people still loved him.

Now it was Oxbridge’s turn. The students were cheering before the paper was released. There were two groups of students shouting, one chanting ‘Sanji, Sanji, Sanji,’ and another group screaming, ‘Zoro, Zoro, Zoro!’ The Zoro side was supported by Atsushi, who was selling Zoro merch to clamouring students.

Flames engulfed the ceiling of the hall as the last slip of paper is released. Fukazawa catches it mid-air with a thumb and forefinger when it starts its decline to the floor.

“The champion for the school of champions is – “ the crowd quietens in anticipation, “Monkey - D. Luffy? Uh,” Fukazawa looked at the other side of the paper, finding it blank.

“What?” Shanks shouted, pushing his way through the crowd. “Luffy? Who the hell put my nephew’s name in the cup? Huh?” He turns to the crowd, shouting at random students, squaring his shoulders, showering them with spittle. The veins in his neck throbbed prominently, fists scrunched up. Students cowered away.

Victor nabbed the paper from his fist, eating it. “Mmm, toasty warm.”

“Monkey D. Luffy is not a student at Oxbridge. We will allow the Goblet to choose another champion for our school,” Fukazawa announced. Again that anticipation remerged, tension tightening the throat of the students. “Umehito Nekozawa.” The cheers diminished in confusion.

“Well done and good luck for the tournament, schools and students! Champions and their head teachers, please follow Sebastian Michailis, who is here as a stand-in judge for Lord Goo,” Netero, the headmaster of Sheffield Harem announced. Sebastian was an impartial judge for the competition as the stand-in for Lord Goo, the leader of the lands.


On the way to the classroom where all the champions were heading, Shanks grabbed Nekozawa by the collar and dragged him into an empty room, Nekozawa cowered under his hood, frightened Shanks would rip it down.

Fukuzawa strode in, the other teachers behind him.

“Nekozawa!” Fukuzawa shouts, his voice echoing off the walls, anger marring his beautiful face, sweet dipping down off the ridge of his nose. “Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?!?”

“N-n-n-no sir,” Nekozawa stuttered.

“Then did you ask someone to put it in for you?”

“No sir,” Nekozawa repeated.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Nekozawa merely nodded. “Then who is responsible for this? Only the strongest of our students were supposed to be entered!”

Victor stepped forward. “Oh that was me!” he announced.

The room was filled with stunned silence.

Finally Fukuzawa spoke. “Why?” The question hung in the air.

“You wanted me to put the strongest students in, and Nekozawa is a sauceror! That’s why I put in the Great Luffini’s name as well!” Victor announced proudly.

The teachers collectively groaned, Fukuzawa’s head hanging in defeat. They all knew Nekozawa would never be able to win in the tasks they had lined up, despite his limited powers. Shanks strode up to Victor and punched him, Victor’s head snapping back, his body crumpling to the floor. “That’s for my nephew!” Shanks told the unconscious body.

Chapter Text

The Quidditch pitch was empty, casted in shadow by the ever darkening evening, a half moon illuminating the sky. Then, out of the silhouettes that surrounded the edges, Nekozawa appeared, being led by a lone figure.

“If you want to win the tournamount, you must get in shape!” Soma shouted enthusiastically.

Soma was a new transfer student from India, a rael prince, and Nekozawa’s only friend. Soma had seen how lonely Nekozawa was, and declared himself Nekozawa’s brother. At first Nekozawa was annoyed, but had softened to him in the last few months after Soma had proved himself as a reliable and close friend.

“I will prepare you, it’s what my little brother Ciel would have wanted.” At the mention of his old friend, Soma’s eyes grew sad, still grieving for the young boi that had been slaughtered by the all powerful beast Pokkle. But he pushed the memory away, trying to focus on his new bff.

“I don’t even want to compete!” Nekozawa whined, “I’ll just let myself lose, who cares?”

“Oxbridge cares! The whole school is rooting for you!”

“Then where are they?” Nekozawa swept his arm round the empty field. "No one else is here to help me train."

“They're asleep of course. it would be useless for them to come anyway, only you can see in such darkness due to your emo ways, and we can’t turn on the stadium lights without you freaking out on us,” Soma replied enthusiastically. “Lets get started! Well start with twenty laps around the field!”

After an exciting montage of Nekozawa working out, which included boxing, climbing a big hill and lifting weights, Nekozawa was ready for the tournament, just in time before the sunrise.

“Just one last test!” Soma announced. He wasn’t tired at all, bouncing happily from one foot from the next. Nekozawa on the other hand was dripping with sweet, palms sweety, knees weak, arms heavy, Tonpa’s spegetty. Nekozawa felt nothing but admiration for his energetic friend.

“What is it?” Nekozawa asked hoarsely.

“We’ll cure your phobia of light!”

“I’m not scared of light, I’m allergic!” Nekozawa screeched angrily.

Soma ignored him. “We’ll just start with a hand first,” he said, bringing out a torch.

Nekozawa couldn’t refuse his friend, although he already knew the result. Shaking, he uncovered one hand from his robe. Only his fingertips were visible. Soma shined the light down.
The first reaction was Nekozawa’s wince. Soma continued, grimacing .

“Mmm, sausages,” Soma said. His stomach rumbled.

The scent however was not sausages but rather Nekozawazwa’s burning, crisping fingers. Tears dripped out of Nekozawa’s hood.


It was the next day, and the students were in the common room. Zoro and Sanji were sitting on the sofa. Zoro was napping. Chuuya sat on the side, silent, still affected by Hawkeye’s words all that time ago; that time when he had called Pokkle a quote-unquote ‘great singer’. He hadn’t sung since, scarred by the words of his teacher. Atsushi lay on the floor, reading ‘101 ways to get friends’, a book he’d borrowed off Nekozawa.

The Great Luffini ran into the room. “Nekozawa, Nekozawa!” he shouted. “He’s the next task!”

Everyone’s eyes (bar Zoro and Sanji and other people who didn’t really care) followed his pointer finger.

“Atushi! Atsushi is the next task! Aren’t you, Atsushi? He’s the next task!”

Soma gasped. “Atshusi, we’re friends – why didn’t you tell us?” his eyes welled with tears, betrayal clear on his facial features.

“The Great Luffini has spoken,” Tamaki said, referring to Shanks’ young nephew. “Nekozawa, you must prepare to fight Atsushi for the first task.”

“How do you know?” Kunikida frowned at the child.

“Do not question magic!” Tamaki cried, fear tainting his tone.

In actuality Luffy knew of the first task not for his magic, but because a purple fruit he had been planning on eating had rolled into Fukazawa’s office. He had followed after it, struggled to find it, and hidden under the headmaster’s desk when Fukazawa re-entered.

The man, followed by the headmaster of Knottingham Trent (Deus), had said, ‘Yes of course I have planned the first task, the competitors will fight Atsushi Nakajima! Also will you please stop adjusting time so Yuki has more prep, he’s not going to win and none of your students seem to care to aid him in so. Unlike MY students.’

Luffy had stopped listening to the bickering pair soon after, having found his fruit near one of the table legs and taking a bite. Thankfully he hadn’t found the nearby cheeseboard, a chair leg poking out of it.

Chapter Text

The stadium erupted with cheers. It was the morning of the first task. There was a tent just outside, teachers and contestants gathered there. The judges were sitting at a podium. The headmasters were the judges: Knottingham Trent had the god Deus, Sheffield Harem had Netero, and Oxbridge’s was of course Fukazawa. The fourth judge was Lord Goo’s stand-in, Sebastian Michaelis. For safety measures the seer Trelawney had been hired so the students would be kept out trouble. Shanks was there to cross-reference her babbling as he too could see the future, but by using the stars.

Each champion had a tent. In Oxbridge’s tent, Nekozawa sat with Hawkeye, who was silently supporting him by not talking. Kakashi entered.

“Victor stay at the door, we don’t want your cowardice rubbing off on Nekozawa.”

“Actually I’d rather have him in here,” Nekozawa muttered. “Seeing someone so pitiful makes me feel better about my life as a whole.”

So Victor entered, legs shaking, and took a seat on the floor.

Suddenly the cannon sounded, and Yuki’s name was called to start his task. Nekozawa could only listen to the cheers, and pray that he will survive his turn.


Sebastian spoke into the microphone, “This is the first task. You must collect the golden ball which is being protected by Atsushi. There is no time limit, but the quickest will be the winner of the first task. Will Yukiteru Amano from Knottingham Trent please step forward.”

Yuki stepped into the arena. Tears were already spilling down his cheeks, inside his mind he was asking himself ‘why me? Why me? I’ve never done anything wrong in my lyfe, ever.’

Then he saw a figure in the distance- Atsushi. He was a skinny small boy, though his eyes burned in determination. Yuki’s tears dried up. Was this it? Did he just have to beat some boy that looked as pathetic as Yuki himself?

Then suddenly, Atsushi transformed. His clothes ripped off as his body began to grow, his spine arching, until there was a full grown white tiger in front of him, though his coat was smattered with bald patches. This tiger had clearly gone through a lot.

The tears came back, Yuki’s legs wobbled and he collapsed, just as the tiger started to sprint towards him.

“Yuno!” Yuki began to scream, snot dripping down his chin. Just before the tiger leapt for him, Yuki pushed himself out the way, though tripped, and rolled across the dusty ground. Yuki blinked, trying to see through the dust that had risen in the air to find the tiger that surely must be ready to pounce again. How was he to beat such a beast? Would the tiger eat him if he failed? Thoughts of a grisly death rushed through Yuki’s mind. He didn’t want to die.

All of a sudden, he heard a voice rise above the din of the crowd’s cheering. It was Akise! “Use your future diary!” he screamed.

His future diary! Yuki had forgotten all about it. It was a diary on his phone that told him the future, a gift from the headmaster Deus.

He fished his phone out of his pocket, and flipped the flip phone open.

Just as the diary on his phone had predicted the tiger was about to pounce at from the left! Yuki rolled forward, just in time, leaping away from the jaws.

The tiger was going jump up at him, so he sidestepped it just in time. Using his diary, he could dodge any attacks.

Half an hour later, the tiger was about to pounce from the left and Yuki rolled forward, leaping away from the jaws. The hype in the stadium had died by then. The spectators just wanted for his turn to be over but it seemed like it would never end. At that point, even the tiger was bored. It curled up and started licking its paws. This gave Yuki the opportunity to crawl over, commando style, to the golden balls and grab one. There was some weak applause, accompanied by a delayed cannon fire, and loud cheers from Yuno, whose ovaries were basically bursting by the manliness exhibited by her mans Yuki.

"Yuki finishes in 34 minutes and 5 seconds!" Sebastian announced into the mic. Yuki limped back to his tent, drying his tears with his sleeve as he went. “Leorio Paladiknight from Sheffield Harem please step forward,” Sebastian continued.

Leorio strutted confidently out onto the field. Just as he stumbled past the boundary the cannon fired, signalling the beginning of his round. He saw the tiger in font of him, which was readying itself for their match. Once again, Sebastian told the contestant that the aim was to grab the golden ball. Leorio was ready, he had faced much more difficult tasks in the Hunter exam, and he had his nen to protect himself this time.

He whipped out his flip knife, extracting it with grandeur and displaying it, the clean blade glinting in the sunlight. He faced off against the tiger, its patchy fur rippling with anticipation, its tail twitching.

The tiger leapt forward, jumping, aiming to land squarely on Leorio, ripping him to shreds with his claws. But Leorio was ready. He ran forwards and then ducked down, skidding underneath the tiger’s belly. Then, with his knife, he slit the tiger’s belly open, using shu (the nen technique, not the dead virgin) to strengthen the blade. Kurapika taught his man the skill shu, looking out for his gorgeous man. The tiger landed, blood flowing down from the cut, staining its white fur a crimson colour. It keeled over, clearly in pain, before using its regeneration powers to heal itself.

The tiger turned around, ready to continue the fight, but was shocked to see Leorio had continued his skid, finishing right next to the golden ball.

Leorio grabbed it, and held it aloft, the Sheffield Harem crowd going wild. The cannon fired, signalling the end of Leorio’s round. Everyone cheered his name. Leorio had proven himself for the first time as reliable fighter.

He walked off victoriously.

Sebastian, the judge, stood shocked still in the stands. He’d been watching the entire time, enraptured by the gorgeous creature, but to see such a beautoiful cat come to harm had an ache in his chest that rippled down his arms, burning his wrists. His movements were delayed. The champion had already walked to the stands by the time he started throwing students out of the way to get to the elegant animal, blood matting its fur.

Had Sebastian not held the tiger’s health in such high esteem he would have thrown Leorio to the dogs – to the psycho Juuzo. As it were he threw himself at the furred beast, rubbing his knuckles over the soft head of the beast.

“My beautiful lady,” Sebastian cooed. “Why did he hurt you like this? Why are you a part of this terrible competition? You should be revered, treated like the empress you are.” Sebastian’s hands quivered as they got closer to the bloodied fur. “Oh?” The fur had already healed over. The tiger leant its head on the shoulder of the Michaelis demon, huffing.

“Champion of Sheffield Harem, Leorio Paladiknight, walks off the stage unscathed with the golden ball, with the time of one minute fourty-six seconds! With that time Sheffield Harem falls into the lead!”

Half the crowd cheered for their champion. Kurapika watched his mans’, and when Leorio did a rather grotesque hip-thrust Kurapika nodded. Leorio would be getting laid that night. Kurapika was an earned commodity.

“Nekozawa, are you ready?” Kakashi asked him, placing a bookmark on his page of Makeout Paradise. That was his contribution for getting Nekozawa prepared in their tent. “Remember, don’t look out to the crowd or distract yourself. Focus only on the tournament.”

“Try not to die.” Hawkeye suggested.

“Good luck!” Victor cried.

At that point Nekozawa realised he would have to win if only to maintain the slight reputation he had. Seeing Victor’s lacking backbone urged him to win just so no one could walk over him like trash.


The cannon fired just as Nekozawa walked onto the stadium. When Luffini had given the clue to the first event and told them it was Atsushi – he did not expect the tiger.

Sebastian stood at the podium, angry at the other judges for keeping the tiger like a caged fighter rather than respecting its majesty.

The tiger remained solitary in front of the golden ball it was proteccing. Nekozawa hesitated. He wasn’t sure how to fight a tiger, let alone a creature with so much brightness. He would not be able to physically match such a large animal.

Nekozawa placed his staff on the sandy pitch. The timer was already ticking; he had overlapped Leorio’s time. The tiger strolled forward a little, seemingly to stretch its legs more than attack.

When they finally collided the tiger nudged Nekozawa to the ground, pinning him down with four paws beside each of his limbs. Nekozawa’s wrist was surely broken, or in the very least sprained.

The tiger pressed himself down on the competitor, pinning him down with his almighty bodyweight. At this rate Nekozawa was sure he would suffocate, and he would for sure want to die in supreme darkness and peace rather than in this brutish competition.

The timer had passed fifteen minutes, Nekozawa still pinned to the floor, sweating under his cloak and the patchy tiger fur before piecing together his plan.

“Atsushi?” the purple-yellow eyes of the tiger matched that of his classmate. “Will you please move off me? Are we not friends?”

The tiger grunted, pressing more weight onto the human body under him.

“I – I’m not trying to – manipulate you –“ Nekozawa choked, “I promise, I just want to – be your – cough – friend. Soma always – talks – about you.” At the mention of his only friend Soma Atsushi stilled. “You seem so nice.” Nekozawa tried to appeal to the human in the fur. “A-Atsushi?”

After a few more minutes of coaxing the tiger extracted him off the body of the cloaked boy.

“Thank you.” Nekozawa gathered himself into a standing position, brushing his cloak off. The tiger stood before him, weary. “Cat is in my name, of course I feel kinship to you. Have you not met my puppet, Belzanoff? He too adores you, Tiger Atsushi.” Nekozawa pulled both arms out of his cloak, oddly confident, liberating himself from the witchly cloth and wrapping both arms over the tiger’s neck. His weight was balancing independently on his toes, rubbing the fur under his gloved fingers.

Soon the tiger calmed in his arms, resting his chin on Nekozawa’s shoulder, purring. A few minutes later Nekozawa noticed the timer.

“If you excuse me Mr Tiger, the timer is increasing and I must get to the golden ball before Yuki beats me. You don’t mind, do you?”

The tiger moved his weight off Nekozawa’s shoulder, following him to the golden ball stand, where he took the sphere. The tiger tailed after him diligently.

The cannon fired. The current leaderboard: Leorio, first; Nekozawa, second; and Yuki, third.

Chapter Text

Nekozawa walked into the common room, expecting hoards of Oxbridge students to be there waiting to congratulate him. But when he opened the door, he heard no cheering, nor did he see anyone upon first look. On further scrutiny he noticed the slumped body of Zoro, who had clearly woken post-nap.

“Where is everyone?” he asked, trying to not let his disappointment show.

“Oh they went to the beach while I was asleep,” Zoro replied, showing him the text they’d sent on a group chat Nekozawa wasn’t apart of. There were pictures of them there. Sanji seemed to be cooking fresh crab. The rest were in the middle of a volleyball game. Seeing how sunny it was made him shudder.

He felt a bit jealous then remembered he now had Soma and Atsushi. That was two whole people he could text!

“Did they not watch me win the round?”

“You won?” Zoro yawned. “Cool.”

Nekozawa was affronted. Did none of the students know he came second? He recalled the moment he grabbed the golden ball, expecting wild cheers from the audience and receiving only a smattering of applause.

Soma walked in, “Well done Nekozawa! I knew you could do it! Uh – where is everyone?”


“Professor Hawkeye,” Soma panted, chasing behind the music teacher. The man paused, readying himself for a conversation with the painfully energetic and annoying Soma. “You have to do something. All of the students have gone to the beach and they didn’t even watch Nekozawa win the tournament for us all!”

Hawkeye briefly remembered that he too was invited to the beach day in the group chat, though had to decline to watch students play with a cat.

“Well I’m sure if you get in the car now you’ll be able to arrive before sundown,” Hawkeye suggested. “You’ll get a few hours of fun in at least.”

“No!” Soma looked at the teacher in shock. In India people would never act this way! “We need to show Nekozawa support for the next round, because this school has shown that they clearly do not care for him currently!”

Hawkeye knew he had to appease the Indian prince. If he were to leave the school Fukazawa would be angry. Having high-profile students was what Oxbridge needed at this time, he constantly reminded him.

“I already sat with him in the tent, Soma. I’m supporting him as much as humanly possible.” Hawkeye thought back to the silent conversation he’d had with the student. He loved being a good, supportive teacher.

Soma’s lips trembled. “They told me you’re the music teacher! And what horrible things you said to Chuuya! We need to support each other. I have always had Agni beside me, always there to ensure my happiness. But people like Nekozawa and Chuuya have no one, so we need to step in and help them! I know this is what Ciel would have wanted. I have an idea to stop Chuuya being so miserable and to make Nekozawa feel supported.”

Hawkeye looked to the sky, subtly taking a deep breath. He knew this child was very annoying, and cursed the sperm that had created him and thus given him a position of power.


It was nearing sunrise. The cherry blossoms sifted to the floor. Chuuya sat on a bench below them, shoulders slumped, picking petals off stems and contemplating lyfe.


The boy looked up at his music teacher.

Chuuya had not sung since Pokkle’s funeral, before his professors had been put in prison. He gulped.

“Pokkle may be a good singer. But your voice,” Hawkeye sighed, “Is also very good. Please start singing again.”

Chuuya’s lips trembled, eyes filling with tears. Was his music teacher telling the truth? He had not sung for years as he had doubted his skills. Was there a slight chance Chuuya was wrong, and that maybe he could sing well?

“Okay, Professor Hawkeye.”

It was the first of Chuuya’s voice he had heard in weeks. The teacher-part of him finally relaxed. As much as he acted nonchalant around the students, there was a small easily ignorable part of him that felt uncomfortable when people were upset, especially people who had taught singing for years.

And that was how Chuuya had been recruited as support-singing for Nekozawa, who needed the support.

Chapter Text

It was the day of the second task. All of the students of Oxbridge sat around the clue attained from the first round from inside the golden ball that would show them where the next task would be held.

Though it was the clue that had stumped Nekozawa, which had left him puzzeled for days.

Inside of the golden ball was a single twig.

“It’s eleven pm.”

The students started to sweat. Nekozawa was getting overly-toasty under his cloak. The task was supposed to have started at ten-thirty, though the students were held up by trying to figure out the location for the task.

“They’ll be there already,” Nekozawa muttered. He was losing this round, and with this loss he was sure he would lose all his friends.

Ranpo was still playing with his new Smartie machine. The other smart students weren’t really helping either. Kyoya was actually recording the scene for the Host Club’s website. Dazai had decided to try helping the others.

“Twig! Twig! What do you think it is?” he said exasperatedly.

“Twig… dogs! Dogs like twigs! Maybe you have to fight Bitch Luffy!” shouted Soma.

Just then Kakashi walked in. Oxbridge was already disadvantaged by the half hour they’d lost.

“We can’t figure out the mystery of the golden ball,” wailed Soma.

Kakashi, clearing his throat, walked over to the window and opened the curtains. “Maybe look outside?”

The view was of the Forbidden Forest. There was a large crowd gathered around, people cheering.

“Oh…Twig. I get it now,” muttered Soma.

“Finally,” muttered Dazai.


Nekozawa finally entered the forest, beginning the second task. He started off with a sprint, trying to catch up with the other champions that had had a head start on him, but he quickly ran out off breath after a couple of minutes. He sighed, and resigned himself to a quick walk.

The Forbidden Forest was dark, the night air shrouded in mist. Luckily Nekozawa was well experienced seeing in the dark after years of hiding himself from the light. He allowed himself a moment to be smug; the other champions must be struggling with these conditions.

Chuuya floated above him, singing action music, breaking the deafening silence. This spurred him on even more, feeling invigorated by Chuuya’s support, and happy that Soma and Hawkeye had convinced him to do this.

Nekozawa frowned suddenly when he realised he had no idea where he was going. Sebastian had announced that he was supposed to go north to find his first marker, with the aim to reach the middle of the forest to finish the task. But which way was north? He had merely been concentrating on catching up with the others, but he may have disadvantaged himself even more by running off in a random direction.

Ahead, a patch moonlight made its way through a gap in the trees. Nekozawa approached, and looked up into the sky. He smiled. Using his astrology knowledge, he could locate the north star Polaris, so that he could find the right direction. He located the Ursa Major, of which two stars, Merak and Dubhe, acted as a pointer to Polaris. From there he realised north was to the right of him, and he set off a jog for another twenty minutes, until finally he reached the first marker.

Two silhouettes stood before Nekozawa. As he got closer, he thought recognised both, but couldn’t tell precisely who they were.

The pair was actually composed of Lelouch vi Britannia, Emperor of Britannia, and Light Yagami (COMPLETELY different lad from Light Turner). They looked startlingly similar, even to Nekozawa with his night-vision. They shared the evil smirks and the scent of blood on their hands.

They both held out identical white envelopes. “One of us is Lelouch.” They said in monotonous voices. “For the first obstacle, you have to tell us apart. In each of our envelopes, there’s a clue. Choose Lelouch to receive the right one. Choose wisely.”

Nekozawa tried to rememeber facts about the emperor that ruled the lands along – unfortunately he mostly knew of Lord Goo.

“Which one of you committed massacres?”

The pair pointed to each other silently, smirking to hide their laughter.

“Uh - which of you has strategized the deaths of many?”

Once again, they pointed to each other. They then proceeded to fist bump.

“Didn’t one of you have a sister?” They looked upon him, hiding secrets with smiles. “Which one?”

“Both,” they said unanimously.

“Then how the hell am I supposed to tell you apart, you psychos?” they smiled coldly and listlessly back at him.

“Which one of you is highschooler?”

He received the same response as he had each time prior.

“You’re both smart, good-looking, tactical, popular, psychotic.” Nekozawa considered his options for a moment.

“Weren’t one of you part of the Japan-Britannian split?”

“Remember,” the emperor drawled, “You’re not allowed to ask questions that include names of people or places.”

There was only one thing for it. Nekozawa really didn’t want to resort to this. His supply of food was limited to this singular bag, but knew he had to sacrifice it as a bribe for the sake of his challenge.

“Would you like a potato chip?” He pressed it under Lelouch’s nose, and then under Light’s.

The first good-looking, tactical specimen of male refused expressionlessly. The second however –

“I’LL TAKE THIS POTATO CHIP,” he screamed, extracting one from the bag, “AND EAATTT ITTT!!!!!!”

Nekozawa knew this was unlikely behaviour of an Emperor. He knew from Barbie’s ‘To Be A Princess Song’ that royals had to have good poise.

“Ahh!” he screamed, pointing at Lelouch, “It’s you – you’re the Emperor!”

Lelouch nodded. It may have been the least strategic method, but it appeared the young lad had figured out the difference between the pair with an uncanny resemblance.

He handed Nekozawa the envelope.

Nekozawa pulled apart the creases, revealing a sheet of paper that read ‘that way’ with an arrow.

Lelouch wordlessly took the paper and pointed it in an north-east direction.

Chapter Text

On the other side of the forest, Yuki was faced by two young peoples. Both looked deceptively young and had an aura of evil. One of them was his classmate Juuzo but he couldn’t tell which. He’d been relying on his future diary thus far, and it had successfully helped get to here, the first hurdle. Out of the three contestants, he’d gotten to this obstacle first but it had stumped him.

“For the first obstacle, you have to tell us apart. In each of our envelopes, there’s a clue. Choose Juuzo to receive the right one. Choose wisely.”

“The other one is called Q,” the smol boi piped up. His hat was at a joint angle on his head. Most would already have distinguished this smol child as Q himself, but Yuki was too dumb.

“Wait, how do I tell you apart?” asked Yuki, tears glistening in his eyes.

“We answer yes or no questions,” replied the taller of the two.

Yuki glances down at his future diary. ‘I ask a few questions. DEAD END.’ What? That couldn’t be right – he hadn’t even done anything yet! In his panic, Yuki asks a random question. “Um which one of you is in my class?” Yuki tried, crossing his fingers, hoping they wouldn’t notice it wasn’t a yes/no question.

They both just stared back at him. They thought they had been prepared for his dumbness, but this was more than they expected.

This was the point at which Yuki couldn’t hold it in anymore. His nose started running and he couldn’t stop himself. He had a ‘Dead End!!!’ He started bawling, nose running, eyes puffy, gasping for breath.

Just then, Yuki’s phone binged with a text. Was this it? He wondered. Had his future changed - had he asked the right question? He pulled out his future diary-slash-mobile. He sees that rather than a change to his future he has received a text. He was hoping it was Yuno with one of her sexual photographs, the sexy ones, the ones that made him want the secc. He needed one for the road of death. Unfortunately they weren’t pictures of his naked beau, but rather an unfortunate message from his service provider Vodaphone.

‘Your current plan has expired. You no longer have data or service, inclusive for future diary users. Please call the number below to reinstate your contract:


Yuki’s phone trembled in his palm. His future diary was at risk?? How else would he tell these two bois apart? He needed to change his future diary, to change it from ‘Dead End’ to something more promising. If Yuki didn’t win the tournament, he would bring shame onto the school.

Juuzo yawned, covering his mouth with a gloved hand. Beside his mouth were three stitches. Was it Juuzo who had the scars, or the other person? Queue? Sweat beaded on his forehead. He tried to check his future diary, but Vodaphone was telling him the truth. He had no option but to call the sanpei helpline. He turned his back to the psychologically turnt bois.

“Hello, this is Silva from Vodaphone. How can I help today?”

“H-hi, you’ve cancelled my phone plan – and I need it, I need my future diary -”

“Ah yes, Yukiteru Amano. Unfortunately you have not been making payments toward your phone.”

“Oh no – my parents died – n-no one’s been paying my phone bill!” Yuki started sobbing again, walking about in circles like a caged rat. Juuzo stood in the background, picking at his arm to lengthen his arm of stitches. Q was playing with his cursed doll.

Silva went through the Vodaphone phone plans offered. They were all over his budget.

“Then how am I supposed to use my future diary?” Yuki panicked. Q and Juuzo were watching him. Their presence intimidated him and Yuki couldn’t stop himself crying even harder. Where was Yuno when he needed her?

“We don’t have time for customers that can’t pay. My only suggestion is to bring your parents back.” Silva hung up.

“No!” Yuki cried. He tried to call back the sanpei helpline but he had been blocked. He would have to ask Yuno to set up a connecc with Ufone or EE when he got back to his love.

Out of options, Yuki looked back towards the pair of indistinguishable students. What would Yuno do? One of the pair was stitching his skin together; the other was playing with a doll. The latter seemed more vulnerable. He saw a sharp stick nearby in a bush, and knew what to do. He ‘snuck’ forward, picked up the wooden weapon and jumped at Q, holding the ‘weapon’ at his throat.

“Give me the right answer or this child will perish at my hand!” Perhaps Yuki’s words would have sounded more magnificent, had he not stumbled and said ‘Paris’ in the place of ‘perish’.

Q and Juuzo exchanged a look. Juuzo started cackling wildly. “He’ll PARIS, will he? PARIS him right up, Amano!” His body folded in two with his laughter.

“Oh do you want to play with me?” he smiled a wide Cheshire cat smile. “Okay let’s play.”

He revealed a barbed-wire wrapped hand out of his pocket and tapped Yuki on his shoulder. “Tag. You’re it.”


Leorio stumbled around in the darkness, unsure of where he was going. He wished Kurapika, Killua or the dead Gon was with him, they always knew what to do, and Leorio always followed them. But this time Leorio couldn’t rely on his friends to help him. He had to do this alone.

Finally, up ahead he saw two figures. Gripping his suitcase tighter, Leorio jogged over to them.

“One of us is your husband Kurapika,” they said. “For the first obstacle, you have to tell us apart. In each of our envelopes, there’s a clue. Choose Kurapika to receive the right one. Choose wisely.”

Leorio looked between them. One was a beautiful boi with blonde hair, the other, unbeknowest to Leorio was Sasuke; dark lengths of raven hair messily framing his face, sharp, intense eyes – strong jawline and lax posture.

“You can only ask yes or no questions.”

Leorio nodded in understanding. This would be easy! Kurapika is his husband after all. “Has your clan been massacred?” Leorio asked confidently.

“Yes,” they answered simultaneous, rage simmering behind their eyes.

“I will avenge my clan!” the blonde said seriously.

“My only goal in lyfe is revenge!” the black haired boi said.

Leorio gulped. This was harder than he had thought.

“Can you turn your eyes red?”

At that the pair responded by activating their powers, their gleaming scarlet eyes luminescent in the dark forest.

Leorio dropped to his knees. There were no other questions he could ask. A massacred clan and red eyes were the only things that made up Kurapika’s personality. And they look so similar- the gleaming eyes with the need for revenge! He felt despair fall over him. Then an idea popped into his head. A perfect plan!

He stood up and gripped Sasuke’s collar, and leaned down to kiss him. If this boy wasn’t his husband then he would know by how he responds to the kiss. Sasuke easily pulled himself out of Leorio’s grip by taking a step back, and pulled out his sword, pointing it at Leorio’s throat. “Touch me again and I’ll kill you,” the boy said in a monotone.

Leorio’s heart leapt. That’s exactly how Kurapika would respond!

“It’s you!” he screamed. “You’re my husband! There’s not a doubt in my mind! Only Kurapika would threaten me if I tried to kiss him!”

Sasuke threw a confused look at Kurapika next to him, who shrugged back, clearly he assumed this would happen. Wordlessly Sasuke handed over the envelope that contained the wrong direction.

Leorio ripped it open, cheered and ran off.

Sasuke and Kurapika rolled their red eyes at his stupidity, and knew they would be in for a long wait for Leorio’s return for the correct envelope.

Chapter Text

Yuki's vision was all red. He couldn’t see though all the blood. All he could hear was the manic laughter of two psychopaths. Q’s curse was making his eyes bleed. It had already caused hallucinations, leading him to try attacking Juuzo, who was now cutting criss-cross patterns on his arms. Juuzo had already cut and then stitched his legs, all while Yuki cried out enough blood for there to be a puddle around his feet.

Outside the forest, Trelawney sat with the teachers.

“I-I sense a death! “ she cried out. “That boy Yuki! He’ll die in the next five minutes! I sensed The Grimm following him! THE GRIMM!!!!!” as she shouted the last two words, birds screeched, eagles swooped around her, the ground trembling by the force.

“He’ll be fine. Pop a squat and have some sake,” replied Shanks offering her a whole barrel. He glanced up at the night sky, and even in his drunken state, recognised what the stars were telling him. “Oh shit.”


By the time Shanks got to Yuki, he was barely clinging to life.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Shanks commanded, his voice ringing with authority that made the deranged duo step back without question.

He had bought Yosano with him who immediately got to work on Yuki, while Shanks retrieved the right envelope for Yuki. The last thing Oxbridge needed was another death on their hands, and this task was obviously too dangerous for this idiot.

Once healed, Yuki took the envelope and stumbled fearfully into the darkness. Shanks looked up at the stars and sighed. He’d be seeing Yuki again many a time in this forest, it was foretold.


After an hour walking in the direction instructed by Emperor Lelouch – right – Nekozawa encountered his next task.

It was the binman studies teacher, Victor, dressed poorly as an Egyptian Sphinx. The outfit was clearly from a party shop. Victor had to squat uncomfortably in order to blend in twith the Egyptian surroundings of the Oxbridge forest.

“Professor Victor? Is that you?”

“N-no!” Victor exclaimed. He felt sweat start to bead on his forehead. “I - I am a Sphinx! of myths and legends! You must be an imbecile to mistake me for anything less!”
Nekozawa rolled his eyes. He decided to humour the binman studies teacher who had lost all of his students following the death of Pokkle.

“So Prof; what are you doing here?”

Victor sweeted harder. How could he admit to the student what had happened? He had feared this moment, and was hoping he would have more time to prepare for making up a riddle to replace the last one.

The previous riddle? Shanks had made the mistake of writing it on the back of a Rolex receipt (the Rolex was for Luffy, the child’s first watch. Now the kid just needed to learn how to tell the time). Victor had munched on it on his way to his station. And soon after, he realised that delicious snacc was actually the riddle that Nekozawa would have to solve – and his dignity. Victor had been hoping that playing the role of sphinx successfully would be his key to the Oxbridge group chat. What would he do now?

“I - the Sphinx of Egypt – am (or is?) here to tell you a riddle so you know the direction you must embark in.”

Nekozawa’s eyebrows rose under his hood.

“So what’s the riddle?”

Victor shifted uncomfortably. “Um - uh,” thankfully Victor thought he remembered the direction he was supposed to be sending Nekozawa in, and wondered how badly he would be ridiculed by the other teachers if he sent him the wrong way.

“Who has – who has two thumbs and eats receipts?” Victor made up.

“You do?”

“No! I am the Sphinx of Egypt! I do not eat receipts! I am an animal made of sand!”

Nekozawa wasn’t sure if that was actually correct, but continued nevertheless, “I apologise Sphinx of Egypt ™, I made a mistake. I actually meant Oxbridge tutor Victor Nikiforov.”

“Correct!” And Victor pointed him the direction he was still hoping was correct, and Nekozawa ran in said direction, dust kicking up around his boots.


Soma’s phone pinged with a notification. Kauru had added him to the Oxbridge group chat.

Chapter Text

Sweet poured off Nekozawa underneath his cloak.

He had been walking for hours, and dawn had nearly arrived. He had to take several breaks throughout. But finally he made it. At the very centre of the forest lay the World Tree, the tallest known tree, thought to originate from the Dark Continent. A sign instructed him that the finish line was the top of the tree. Nekowzawa wanted to cry in frustration. He was already exhausted, and climbing this tree would take him over a day.

He turned to Belzenoff. “What do you think I should do?” he asked his puppet. There was no reply of course.

Nekozawa considered giving up. 'With my late start the other contestants would surely already be near the top', he thought sadly. Little did he know that he was actually the first to arrive.

Then, an idea formed in his mind. Rising his staff, he spoke the magic words he had made up. “Minions of dark magic and creatures of the night, help me with my task and bring the end in sight.”

At that moment, Buckbeak the Hippogriff spawned into the forest.

Grinning madly at his own genius, Nekozawa bowed to the beast, the Hippogriff bowing back. He leapt onto the beast, which took off and glided into the air, reaching the top of the world tree in only 20 minutes.

At the top sat 3 objects, a cheap flip phone, a flip knife, and a cat puppet. Curiously, Nekozawa reached out to the puppet, and on contact was teleported back to edge of the forest where he had started. It was a port key!

A crowd still surrounded the forest, huddled in blankets and all drinking merrily, which erupted in cheers at the moment Nekozawa appeared, still sitting aloft the hippogriff.

A cannon went off, and sebastian’s voice came was heard for the announcement. “And in first place is Nekozawa of Oxbridge!”

Nekozawa was shocked. He hadn’t expected at all to come first! He hopped off Buckbeak and was immediately embraced by Soma and Atsushi, who were cheering his name.

After they stepped back, Nekozawa was further surprised at the sight of the rest of the Oxbridge students who stood there waiting for him.

Sanji patted him on the back, Naruto cheered for him, and Kyoya gave him a nod of acknowledgement.

Nekozawa had never felt more accepted in his lyfe.

Chapter Text

The door of the common room opened. Nekozawa, Soma, and Atsushi, the newly-formed group of social pariahs, were privately celebrating Nekozawa’s win together. Dungeons and Dragons was this celebration.

Sebastian walked into to the room towards the group. He winced upon seeing the game they were playing, muttering something about ‘weebos’.


The white-haired boy turned to Sebastian, the Triwizard Tournament judge, grin still on his face in response to one of Nekozawa’s hilariously witty jolks. He briefly wondered what the judge was doing in the Oxbridge common room, considering he was neither a student or teacher, and should probably be monitoring the other contestants who were still trapped in the maze.

“Yes, Sebastian-san?”

Atsushi’s eyes were blown wide, the same colours of the beautiful Empress Sebastian had been stalking following the first task. He could feel the saliva pooling in his mouth upon being reunited with his beautiful kitten.

Sebastian gripped him gently but firmly by the wrist with his gloved hand and lead him to the wall. But oh, how he would love to feel the warm flesh of his kitten against his own! Atsushi in ultimate confusion just watches Sebastian, who pins him against the wall and presses a forearm to the wall near his head, caging him in.

Atsushi gulps.

“Oh, quit acting innocent,” Sebastian leans in closer to Atsushi, using a single finger to tip his delicate head in his direction. He licked his lips. Now the entire focus of his Empress was on him and him alone! “Such round eyes…” he muttered. “My precious little kitten…”

“Uh-uh – Sebastian-san?” Atsushi struggled to maintain eye contact but simultaneously found it impossible to pull away.

“Come on a moonlit walk with me tonight,” and upon seeing Atsushi’s unsure expression finds himself continuing, “You don’t be shy around me, my little kitten. With me…you can be your true self.”

Atsushi’s cheeks blazed brighter, blush fanning over the height of his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Um – um, okay, we – we can do that.”

Sebastian rubbed Atsushi’s delicate chin with the pad of his thumb. “That’s good.” He regretfully pulled away from the boi. “I’ll see you tonight, my kitten.”

When Sebastian left the common room, Atsushi found his eyes following after him.


The full moon sat in the clear sky, the air crisp. Sebastian glanced at his pocket watch. His kitten was late. He longed to see him again. The amazing round eyes, the vivid black stripes contrasted on the smooth white fur, the plump paw pads. His love of cats was overriding his duties as a judge, but at this moment he didn’t care.

Suddenly he sensed him. The precious boi. Atsushi ran over to him, slightly breathless. Atsushi had been so nervous. Just as he had been leaving to meet Sebastian, Soma had fixed his hair and smiled at him. ‘Don’t forget,’ he said to Atsushi. ‘If he puts in effort for his appearance, he likes you. He probably thinks this is a date.’

Did Atsushi want this to be a date? He wasn’t sure. He was tired of his self-loathing cycle of sleeping with random, faceless men. Was he even ready for a relationship?

But upon seeing him, Atsushi could not stop the smile on his face.

Sebastian was confused. When he had heard that Atsushi’s ability was called ‘Beast in the Moonlight’, he had assumed that upon the whispering touch of moonlight on his skin Atsushi would immediately shift into his beautiful tigeress form. That was why he had decided to invite Sebastian for a ‘moonlit’ walk. Where was his beautiful kitten?

The pair walked through Oxbridge grounds in a comfortable silence. Atsushi noticed Sebastian’s sharp and clean clothing couldn’t help but think back to Soma’s words. Would a man wear a tailcoat and white gloves on a moonlit walk unless he liked the other person? Atsushi wasn’t sure. But even if this was intended to be a date, Atsushi had never properly dated someone he liked as an adult and wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to.

Atsushi rested his hand in the crease of Sebastian’s elbow as the walked around the fountain together.

“Your ability – Beast in the Moonlight – do you not become a beast in the moonlight?”

Atsushi suddenly realised that he was actually IN the moonlight. “Was that what you were expecting?”

“Excuse me for saying, but the majesty of your tiger form is something to be truly worshipped.”

Atsushi hesitated. He had never heard anyone compliment his tiger form; most people ignored it, and as consequence it was another something he felt insecure about.

“Are – are you joking with me?” Atsushi heard his voice break. He thought he was finally making a new friend, but in reality Sebastian was kidding with him. He remembered the lies Sanji had told him about his fur. The betrayal was something that had reduced his capability of trusting new people. Was this the same?

Sebastian laughed. “Something you should learn about me, Atsushi: I never joke about cats.”

Atsushi trembled. The sincerity in Sebastian’s tone made this cheeks darken with a blush.

When Atsushi finally shifted into his second form he curled into Sebastian’s lap; the other man ran his fingers through his fur, the same fur that was damaged and matted following Shu’s mistreatment, and listened to the deep rumble of his voice. “You poor baby,” Sebastian muttered. He removed his gloves to continue petting him. Atsushi couldn’t help but let his tail curl in satisfaction. “You deserve so much better. What happened to your fur? Who hurt you? My pretty kitty. Such a pretty kitty. You deserve to be worshipped, not hurt.”

Tears slid out of the tiger’s large eyes. Sebastian frowned at their appearance. No one had ever cared for Atsushi’s tiger before. Sanji lied about his fur as if it didn’t even matter. Following his first death, they had buried Atsushi in an unmarked grave like trash. Atsushi’s headmaster and only father figure hadn’t appeared when he finally made his debut as a judge. He didn’t even get attention as a human – and his tiger got even less. And this kind of unconditional affection Sebastian was giving him?

“Atsushi, will you come to the Yule Ball with me?”

The tiger licked Sebastian’s palm in response, heart aching with happiness.


Over the next few nights Sebastian and Atsushi met in the moonlight, the latter curled in Sebastian’s lap, who gently rubbed a healing salve over his white and black striped coat. New fur grew to replace the old. A shining tiger emerged.

Chapter Text

At the very same time as Atsushi’s moonlit walk, after a whole day of running around and the moon now reaching its zenith, Leorio encountered a centaur. The man had two arms, four legs, strong muscled arms and a ribbed stomach. He had a scowl scrunching his face into wrinkles of skin.

“Hello,” Leorio introduced himself, “My husband gave me directions to come here. I’m trying to get to the next phase of the Triwizard Tournament.”

Bane’s scowl lessened. His own husband had betrayed him so? He remembered his last love, Aragog, who had betrayed him in death. He knew exactly how this man was feeling. Even though he was smiling, sweating and shirtless – still brimming with energy – Bane knew how betrayal from a loved one felt, and knew the man must have been overcompensating for his pain.

In reality, Leorio was too dim-witted to realise he was running in the wrong direction, and was prepared to run the next week the same way ‘Kurapika’ (AKA Sasuke) had directed him.

“I shall take you there,” Bane rumbled in his deep, earthly tone. “Ride me.”

Leorio hesitated, unsure if he should go against his husband’s direction, but couldn’t help but want to appease the clearly lovely centaur. After all, he had been running in this direction for a day already, and was getting slightly bored and unfocussed. Plus, he would love to take a break by riding someone.

Leorio tipped his head down in appreciation. “Thank you, Mister Centaur. What should I call you? I would like your name before I ride you.”


“I am Leorio.” He kicked his leg up and threw himself onto the back of the centaur, who gave him no opportunity to settle down. They were heading to the next challenge soon after.


Ging was waiting for him, dressed as a sphinx. He wore a scowl, pissed that he had to wear such a ridiculous costume. He never dressed as a boar for the zodiacs unlike those other furries he was constantly surrounded by. It was like him and Pariston (his bff) were the only normal people around.

Leorio finally emerged from the mist. At the sight of Ging, Leorio was filled with joy. He hadn’t seen his father recently, and this was another chance to bond after so long apart from each other.

“Daddy! I’m here!”

“Hey Gon!” Ging replied. “I have a riddle for you.”

Unfortunately Leorio was having problems solving it. Another reason why he missed Kurapika. He wasn’t smart enough. Ging offered to give him the solution to help his son along, but Leorio refused. “I want to prove that I’m strong enough by myself!” he had insisted.

He spent a day mulling it over, then finally he got it!

“I think I know it! Something that’s black and white, and red all over! It must be a newspaper! Because it’s read as in reading, not the colour!”

Ging was proud of his son. “Well done! That must have been very difficult for you!”

Leorio was filled with joy at his father’s praise. He was sad to say goodbye to him, but he knew he had to finish the task. As long as I’m not last, he thought, then it’ll be okay.

He reached the tree within an hour, thanks to Bane giving him a lift. Climbing the tree was easy for Leorio as well. He had nen to strengthen his muscles, and was already strong from his training to open the Testing Gates at Killua’s house.

He picked up the flip knife, which teleported him to the finish line just like Nekozawa. Less people were there than when he had started, but there was still a few students there to cheer for him. A cannon sounded to signal his finish, and Sebastian announced him as second with the time of 49 hours and 32 minutes. He went to Kurapika for a victory kiss, who slapped him away angrily. Leorio smiled- his husband was the same as always.

Now all that was left was to prepare for the Yule Ball and the final task.


Yuki collapsed in the forest. He was no longer sure how long he’d been trapped in the forest. The task had taken so long; he was sure he was losing his sanity. HE was so thirsty. How long was it until he reached the next phase? How far away was the next checkpoint? He would cry but he was too dehydrated. He had already cried away almost all the liquids in his body by the third night and had been slowly dying since. Licking the dew off the plants in the morning had sustained him until this point, but now he couldn’t even move his tongue enough to do that.

What Yuki had forgotten to the hallucinations and insanity was that Shanks had been using the stars and predicting when Yuki was on the brink of death, and to prevent the health and safety hazard he had been visiting Yuki in his times of crisis and desperation to give him food and water.

Out of the shadows a shadowy figure appeared.

Yuki wasn’t sure whether or not it was a hallucination.

His body had betrayed him. He couldn’t move. He lay there as the figure got closer. Yuki squinted and tried to distinguish which form his hallucination was taking, but he couldn’t.

“P-p-p-p-pirate?” Yuki would have wet himself but alas he could not, for he was too dehydrated.

“Hey Yuki. It’s me again.” Shanks sat on a log beside Yuki’s head. “How have you been?”

Yuki gasped into the grass, slowly dying.

“I know how it feels, kiddo.” Shanks didn’t, but he was trying to sympathise with the pathetic sack of flesh. He threw some sticks into the firepit he had made on his first visit and lit them. Yuki, for some reason, had been circling around the same area for the past two weeks without noticing.

After getting some food and drink into Yuki, who was largely unresponsive, Shanks sat him down by the fire and wrapped some fleece blankets over his shoulders and gave him general updates on the happenings of Oxbridge.

“The Yule Ball happened last night,” Shanks mentioned. “You might want to know your girlfriend was drugged and restrained by Akise to prevent her intervention in this task. She’s getting kinda psycho now you’re not around.” Shanks tried not to mention that Yuno had always been psycho. Yuki was tender. “Sebastian and Atsushi went together. I’m proud of him for finding a friend.” Leorio went with Kurapika rather than Sasuke. Sasuke had finally been forgotten by Leorio as his husband’s double. Perhaps it was something to do with Sasuke knocking him unconscious as soon as the battered Leorio left the Forbidden Forest.

“Now, I have spoken to the other tutors and they sympathise with your plight,” AKA they were bored of waiting for Yuki and all wanted to go back to their respective schools, “So we have decided to give you a hint on the next phase of the task. There is a tree,” Shanks pointed in its direction, a shivering Yuki’s gaze following his finger, “A ten minute walk in that direction. Can you see where I’m pointing.”

Yuki nodded.

“Now, just to make sure, I’m going to take this red rope and tie it along the route you have to follow. So when you’re up for it, take hold of the rope and just walk. Okay?”

Yuki nodded.

“Okay. Goodbye, Yuki.” Shanks really hoped he wouldn’t have to see Yuki again in the Forbidden Forest. Unfortunately that would obviously not be the case.

Chapter Text

The next day Yuki had gained a little of his energy and tried to remember what had happened the night before. He couldn’t. There was a string that was attached to a tree nearby. Yuki thought it was threatening and tried to ignore it. Then, noticing a Co-op sandwich wrapper, the memories of the previous night came flooding back. This rope was his salvation! Determined to make it, he obediently followed the red rope along. To his relief, he didn’t encounter any creatures or hurdles. It was almost as if the path had been completely cleared out for him. Within ten minutes, he had reached the tallest, most majestic tree he had ever laid eyes on. With a trembling hand, he reached out and touched the trunk. What was he supposed to do? Climb it? How was any mere human supposed to find their way up? If only Yuno was here she’d have carried him up. His eyes welled with tears. He started hyperventilating.

Two days passed. Yuki was still frozen on the spot. Shanks dropped by once more, swinging a bottle of Sake behind him. His patience had long worn thin. He couldn’t get through these visits without alcohol anymore.

“Hey Yuki,” he said through gritted teeth. “I can’t help you at this stage but why don’t you ask your FRIENDS for help?”

He glanced up where, high in the sky, Chuuya and Sanji were floating around, drinking expensive wine. They had decided they enjoyed the solace of their own company and also watching Yuki as a form of entertainment, so using their anti-gravity skills and Sanji’s kicking abilities they got drunk and hovered in the sky.

“They-they’re not my friends,” Yuki hiccoughed through tears.

Shanks tossed the bottle to the side where it smashed into bits and pieces.

Grabbing the boy by the collar while also trying to maintain his composure, Shanks repeated, “Why don’t you just ask them?”

With that, the teacher turned around and disappeared into the trees.

Yuki looked up to the pair who were now quite drunk due to day drinking. Yuki could hear their laughter from however many meters away they were. They were hovering around the middle of the World Tree.


They knew he was trying to get his attention – Shanks’ appearance was a cue for them, and they were also watching Yuki for fun – but decided to ignore him.


Yuki’s desperation was mounting. Sanji wondered whether Yuki could cry or not. Shanks had thankfully given him water so his body had the moisture to produce tears, which he then did.

Yuki sat on the ground and sobbed. He wanted Yuno but Yuno wasn’t there!!!!!! :(

Sanji and Chuuya dropped down to the soil. “Hey Yuki.”


“It’s Sanji.”

“Can you – can you – Professor Shanks said you can – you can help me.”

Chuuya watched on in silence.

It was clear Yuki wanted to get up the tree.

“Yeah just stand here for me,” Sanji adjusted Yuki’s position before kicking the boy up. There was more aggression and force used than was necessary, perhaps as revenge for calling him ‘Sandwich’.

A branch obstructed the path which, had Yuki hit it, would have probably smashed his head in. Chuuya jumped up and used his anti-gravity powers to guide him through safely. Yuki getting injured for life was the last thing Oxbridge needed.

Upon reaching the top, Yuki spotted a flip-phone, which he touched out of curiousity. In actuality it was the required Portkey. Touching it, he was transported back to the finish line. The only ones waiting for him were Trelawney, who after being introduced to Sake by Shanks, had had one too many bottles, and in her drunken state was shouting something about a ‘Grimm’, Fukuzawa who was arranging for an ambulance, and Deus, the only one to congratulate him, though the congratulations fell slightly flat upon seeing Yuki’s desperately lacking state. There was also a shaking wooden crate by Deus’ feet, which Yuki initially assumed contained an energetic animal.

“Where’s Yuno?”

“Yuki? Yuki, my love?” he heard the screams from the wooden crate, slaps of wood being punched. “Yuki, my love, is that you?”

“Let her out,” Fukazawa waved his hand dismissively, still on the phone, notifying the other competitors and schools of the good news. After all, it had only taken 437 hours and 69 minutes for Yuki to emerge from the forest.


Tomoe was added to the group chat.

Tomoe left the group chat.

Tomoe was added to the group chat.

Dazai: Who is this Tommen anyway

Kakashi: the new zoology teacher

Soma: welcome Tomoe!

Tomoe left the group chat.

Tomoe was added to the group chat.

Fukazawa made Tomoe group admin.

Chapter Text

“Welcome to the final task!” Sebastian announced in Victorian English to the eagerly awaiting crowd. “You’ve all been waiting for this. I know how you must feel. I can’t wait to leave either. I want to go home to my cats. But we’ll get through this, as a butler, I promise this to you.” The crowd went wild. “The final task is this, a game of rock paper scissors. This is an extremely difficult mind game, and was influential in the development of martial arts. Prepare yourself for an exciting finale.

“The rules of the game are that the competitors that have the lowest ranking so far in the Triwizrd Tournament will play against each other first. Yuki and Leorio will be playing first. Yuki has consistently had the lowest ranking through the tournament, ranking him third. Though Nekozawa and Leorio are currently tied in the rankings, Leorio’s loss in the rock paper scissors match in the competitor’s tent partaken about five minutes ago means he will be competing in the first round.”

Leorio and Yuki emerged from the tent and took their places at the center to the stadium. A camera enlarged the action onto the big screen, allowing the thousands of students watching to all see. The anticipation built upon seeing their grisly expressions.

Leorio was sweeting a bit, but was trying to keep confident. He was sure he could win, especially after witnessing Yuki’s pitiful display in the last task. He glanced at the boy’s face, expecting to see his trademark tears and snot, but was surprised to see a smug spread across his face. Leorio frowned. How had Yuki suddenly gained so much confidence? Was he that assured in his abilities of rock paper scissors? Leorio was beginning to worry. He hadn’t played the game all that much; his husband was too good at the tactical game and after crying upon his every loss, Kurapika stopped playing it with him.

Yuki was crying in his sole. But on the outside, he knew he had to remain calm. Although Yuno couldn’t help him during the task, she had provided him with a script to follow to ensure his victory. The script outlined what he had to do and say – Yuno ordered he had to maintain a guise of confidence to derail the other competitors. Yuki was determined to win. If could survive, he will become the god of the new world, and bring his beloved parents back, along with Akise and his other friends who had unfortunately passed away after he killed them.

The arrogance was all a façade, but he knew this was the only way to win. Rock paper scissors was a mind game after all.

“Leorio,” Yuki began. “I’m going to win. I have a future diary. I know all your moves.” With that, he flipped out his flip phone. Yuno had paid for his phone bill as a reward for coming out of the last task alive, and now his future diary was BACK!

Leorio began to sweet more. It dawned upon him that Yuki was right. Leorio’s lack of tact was no match for Yuki and his future diary, regardless of how dumb Yuki was. The flip phone was really his saving grace.

But Leorio couldn’t let Kurapika down. ‘He’s relying on me! As is the rest of the school! Killua, and the dead Gon! They need to me to win for them! So I’ll try my best!’

“Let the match begin,” Sebastian announced. “Best two out of three!”

Leorio and Yuki turned to each other. Yuki’s smirk was enlargened on the big screen. “Rock paper scissors!” they shouted in unison.

Leorio panicked, and played rock. Yuki smirked. His future diary was correct! He played paper.

“One point to Yuki!”

“Oh no!” cried Kurapika. “My mans!” He could see the tears pooling in Leorio’s eyes and wanted nothing more than to hug the pain away. He didn’t even care if his boi won anymore. He just wanted him BACK.

“Rock paper...” Leorio and Yuki started to shout again for the second turn.

Yuki glanced at his future diary. It said Leorio wouldn’t play a hand. He smirked. Was the man so unsettled by him that he had been too scared to play? His future diary told him to play scissors, so he did.

"scissors!" they finished.

Yuki looked down at their hand, ready to celebrate his win. But Leorio’s hand wasn’t there! It had disappeared, with a faint aura glow surrounding it. Yuki gasped. Yuno gasped. Mori gasped.

This time, it was Leorio’s time to smirk. “You may have your future diary to help you, but I have help too, from my husband Kurapika. He knew how bad I am at this game, from experience. But he knew that your future diary was based on your perception, so if you didn’t see what I play then you couldn’t predict it. And by nen ability makes this very convenient, because I can use a wormhole to teleport my hand.”

With this knowledge, Yuki’s face grew grim. This Kurapika was dangerous!

“Look behind you,” Leorio told him.

Yuki turned, and saw Leorio’s armless, disconnected hand floating there, his hand clasped in a fist. Rock!

“One point to Leorio! The contestants are now tied. This will be the deciding match to see who reaches the final to play off against Nekozawa.”

Yuki gulped, holding back the tears. Then he turned and glanced at Yuno, who watched him in the crowd. She smiled encouragingly. He nodded back. As long as he stuck to the script she gave him, he could still win.

He plastered the smirk back on his face, and looked up at Leorio, trying to look at confident and arrogant as he could. It seemed to work, judging by leorio’s expression.

“That was a noice trick, Leorio. But it won’t work again. I’ll tell you why.” He dropped the future diary on the floor, no longer needing it. “I’m going to play rock.” Leorio gasped. “Ready?” Yuki continued, “rock... papper... scissors!”

Yuki’s hand began to move, but time seemed to slow down for Leorio. ‘Is he bluffing? Why would he tell me the truth? Unless it was a double bluff?!?’ Leorio was panicking, his eyes bulging, sweet pouring down his face, his heart racing. ‘No, he has to be lying, he knows I’ve only been playing rock so far, which means he must be going with paper! So I’ll play scissors and beat him!’

Leorio placed his hand out, playing scissors. He looked at Yuki’s. He was playing rock!

“Another point to Yuki! Yuki wins in a two to 1 lead! Will the contestant please leave the stage and prepare for the next match!”

Leorio slumped in defeat. He had failed the school. Kurapika met him at the tent, and patted him on the back.

“Do you still love me?” Leorio asked.

Kurapika sighed. “You’ve let me down Leorio. You’ve let the school down. But most of all… you’ve let yourself down.”

Leorio slumped his shoulders.

“But I’m still your husband, for better or for worse.” Kurapika, regardless of what he said, was secretly glad that Leorio was back in his arms out of harms way. But saying so would be too revealing.

Chapter Text

It was now time for Nekozawa and Yuki to face off. Nekozawa was nervous, how could he beat someone who could tell the future? Despite this, he wasn’t ready to give up. He had seen Leorio beat him once, and it had sparked an idea in Nekozawa’s dark twisted mind. Since powers are permitted, Nekozawa would use his.

Off in the crowd the teachers of Oxbridge watched on.

“He looks nervous,” Kakashi noted.

Victor trembled by their side, and suddenly spoke up. “Surely it doesn’t matter if he wins this round or not? With Yuki’s place in last for the first two tasks, even if he comes first he could never win the tournamount overall. And with Leorio coming last in this task, Nekozawa is guaranteed to win the tounramount even if he loses. So why doesn’t he just let himself lose?”

“You fool!” Fukuzawa spat. “He’s doing this for the pride of his school. He’ll secure our overwhelming victory. I’m sure he’s already aware of this fact.”

Nekozawa was not aware.

On the stage, he turned to his puppet Belzenoff for support. “Let’s win this together my old friend.”

“And begin!” Sebastian cried.

Yuki stepped forward, ready to continue the same act. Nekozawa met Yuki’s grin with one of his own, barely visible beneath the shadow of his hood.

“No need to tell me you have assured your victory with your future diary, Amano. I already saw in the last match.”

“So you know there’s no point in trying?” Yuki sneered.

“No, actually. The opposite. You see, I know your power, but you don’t know mine. I have cursed your future diary; I wrote your name on my curse doll! Your future diary will no longer tell you the rael future!”

Yuki gasped. Kurapika gasped. Karou gasped.

“M-m-my future diary isn’t going to tell the truth?” Yuki stuttered. He whipped his head around to stare at Yuno, whose face had become grim.

“Ready?” Nekozawa asked. “Rock…”

Yuki frantically glanced at his diary. It said he played paper and won. ‘If this is a lie, then I should play either rock or scissors. If according to my future diary I played paper and won, then it would mean Nekozawa played rock. That means he could play either scissors and paper. But that might be a lie as well. There’s no way to assure my victory! And since this is the first round, it’s impossible to predict what he’s more likely to play!’

“Paper… scissors!” Nekozawa cried.

Yuki closed his eyes and cried out dramatically as played his hand, choosing scissors randomly.

“One point to Nekozawa!” Sebastian announced.

Yuki was shocked. He opened his eyes, only to see that Nekozawa had played rock! Impossible! His future diary was supposed to be lying. He looked back down at his phone. His future had changed! It now said he had played scissors and lost to Nekozawa’s rock. Had his future diary changed because Nekozawa was a diary user too?

Nekozawa chuckled. Yuki was trembling. How had this happened?

“Ready to play again?”

“N-not really-“ Yuki began, but Nekozawa cut him off, shouting “rock…”

Yuki’s tears blinded his vision. He peeked at his diary quickly, trying to read what it said. On the screen, the words read

‘I can’t see what my future diary says because I’m crying too much, I play rock randomly and lose to Nekozawa’s paper.’

Unfortunately Yuki could not see the words because he was crying too much. He randomly played rock, tears and snot streaming down his face.

“And a second point to Nekozawa! Nekozawa wins!” Sebastian announced excitedly.

Oxbridge erupted into jubilations. They cheered Nekozawa’s name. Nekozawa was touched. It seemed everyone was there, celebrating his victory. No, THEIR victory. The school had achieved this together, he would never have achieved all that he had without their never ending support. He was particularly grateful towards his closest friends- Soma and Atsushi. And of course who could forget Belzenoff.

Nekozawa then heard a whisper behind him. He turned back to Yuki. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“How?” Yuki asked, louder this time. “How could you beat me? How did you trick my future diary?”

“I didn’t.” Nekozawa assessed the boy’s expression. “You seem confused, so let me enlighten you. I did nothing to your future diary, it told you truth. If you had followed the diary, you definitely would have won. So I had to convince you not to. And it worked.”

“But how did you know what I was going to play?”

“I had no idea. I won by luck, which, in my opinion, is how rock paper scissors should be played. I’m not into these mind games.” Nekozawa smiled. “Better luck next time Amano.”

Yuki bowed his head, accepting his defeat.

“Will the contestants please approach the podium and take their places?” Sebastian announced.

Nekozawa stepped up onto the highest platform, taking his place as first for the tournament. Leorio stood beside him in second place, and Yuki snivelling in third (aka last).

The crowd cheered again. Nekozawa soaked it up. He then turned to shake Leorio’s hand, congratulating him. Leorio was a worthy opponent, and Nekozawa was pleased to have met him. Likewise Leorio recognised that Nekozawa was a brialliant young mind, and admitted to himself that if he had to lose to someone, then he was glad it was Nekozawa. Leorio and Nekozawa both ignored Yuki, who hadn’t earned their recognition.

The Triwizard Tournament had been a long and difficult road, but successful. No one had died, and Oxbridge had finally restored their reputation as the best university. The students were ready to resume their education.

Unfortunately for them, fate was not on their side. Perhaps Shanks would have had the effort to predict this had he not wasted his efforts on using astrology to see whether or not Yuki was alive. The association between the snivelling, pitiful Yuki, and his life's work of astrology had blackened it in his mind. Over the course of the last task even the thought of doing it made him see Yuki's disgusting, cowardly face. He couldn't stand it, and decided to use sake to rid himself of the gruelling memories.

Across the field, unbeknownst to the cheering Oxbridge students and faculty, a white Rolls Royce stopped at the end of the field. Fuhrer Bradley stepped out from the driver's side, patent leather shoes sinking in the mud. He wore a navy blue suit and a resting bitch face. Asahina Kaname, who had been rolling some prayer beads between his fingers, followed the Fuhrer's lead. His shirt was unbuttoned to the top of his ribcage, hair touching his shoulders.

"What a lovely university," Kaname said, looking up at the aged Oxbridge building.

The Fuhrer hummed in response. Though they were metres away, hardly distinguishable, Kakashi sensed their presence. He detached himself from his fellow tutors.

"Kakashi," Fukazawa noticed the charged tension about him, "What is it?"

Both of Kakashi's eyes were revealed, his Sharingan eye swirling. He turned to Fukazawa somberly.

"Ofsted inspectors."

Chapter Text

The teachers were gathered around the headmaster. Fukazawa was bent over his desk, seductively, crying. The light from the high arching windows made his hair glimmer, long pianists fingers curling over his face. He was preparing himself for the intrusion on his temple, his glorious school. How bad would the violation be? He couldn't believe it - goddamn inspectors? Which university got inspectors! Just because they’d had a few deaths! After all, what university was exempt from murders?

The teachers - Shanks, Hawkeye, Tomoe, Kakashi - looked on in embarrassment. They were yet to see Fukazawa cry sincerely and hoped they could erase the image from their memories. The school was the one thing that really mattered to the principal and to see him so shattered was quite pathetic. After all, any one of the teachers (aside from Victor) could choose to waterboard the inspectors to force them to receive a stellar inspection - not that they wouldn't from their own hard work. The group were nothing if they were not competent and diligent professors. Victor regurgitated a receipt and handed it to Fukazawa in lieu of a tissue. Fukuzawa blew his nose loudly into the moist piece of paper.

“There there,” Hawkeye muttered. “Stop crying.”

He was clearly very uncomfortable and the group watched on to see if his word would take effect. After a few moments it was clear they hadn’t, and they all waited on to see if anyone else would offer up anything else to silence the principal.

“The inspectors are getting closer,” Kakashi updated the group, his sharingan eye swirling. “As we speak they are getting directions to the office from Zoro, so I’m sure you have plenty of time left to sob.”

“Maybe they’ll get lost in the dungeons?” Tomoe suggested. “Luffini could negotiate that.”

“No,” Fukazawa cried, “If we kill them then people will come looking! We can’t let the press see any more intentional murders!”

“Ah okay. Chopper has intercepted them. Apparently they appreciate that he’s disabled, it shows inclusivity. I suppose we shouldn't let them find out that one of our own did it to him.”

“Ace technically isn’t a current student,”

“Neither is Pokkle,” Shanks and Kakashi collectively mused.

All of a suddenly, there was a cock on the door.

“They’re here!” shouted Victor. He started gasping and hyperventilating, tears now streaming down his face. He looked up at Fukazawa through his eyelashes, blinking them sexily.

For some reason all the teachers looked away from Fukazawa at the same time and then looked back to him, seeing him in his normal, poised, refined self. Though he yearned to snap at Victor to do so would be akin to child abuse. He had enough experience of that with Ranpo. Fatherhood had taught him a lot about how to dole out punishments. He would withhold Victor’s oxygen for the next couple of months to teach him a lesson. Only when he begged for it would he consider giving in. His only fear was Victor developing a kink for such actions, for breathplay. Though Fukazawa knew it was a risk he’d have to take.

“Come in,” he pressed his hands against the lapels of his japanese suit thing and faced the door.

The Fuhrer gripped the doorknob with his thumb and forefinger, opening the door slowly. It swung in dramatically, the air stilling, the dust settling. The teachers held their breath. That was Victor’s favourite part.

“Hello. As I’m sure you are aware, we are here for a compulsory inspection of this university following the ah- recent problems it’s faced”

“Hewwo. Owo whats this? Pwobwems?” Victor tried to sound and look cute, widening his eyes, pouting his full, pink lips. He ran his tongue over these lips sensually, before inhaling a deep breath and not exhaling.

Hawkeye elbowed him roughly, causing Victor to fold in on himself onto the floor. He gleefully gasped for breath.

Kaname watched this unfold, his eyes sparkling, his entire body aroused by the breath action. When Victor looked over, he subtly winked. Kaname knew he would have to flirt with this boi, rather than using his natural flirt he would do so actively. Perhaps once or twice he too would punch Victor in the stomach to make him breathless - but just once...or twice. He would also make him breathless by OTHER means (winky face).

Hoping the inspectors would ignore Victor, Fukuzawa turned to the inspectors. “I welcome you humbly to my school. I have devoted my life to it. Our students. Please be gentle with me, it's my first time. My first inspection.”

The Fuhrer merely nodded. “You will allow me full access to all areas. Even the back entrance. Am I understood?”

Shanks, Hawkeye, Tomoe and Kakashi were not as forthcoming as the principal, watching the pair of inspectors with a steely gaze.

“If that would satisfy you. Allow me to introduce the tutors that make up Oxbridge university…” None of them, aside from Victor, looked all too welcoming. Fukazawa hesitated.

“Agami Shanks, Hawkeye, uh...the best swordsperson in the One Piece universe? Tomoe, who enjoys his regular morning commute through the many Oxbridge brothels, and of course Kakashi, who...well, Kakashi.” Fukazawa pointedly avoided introducing the binman studies tutor out of shame.

“Well,” Kaname, “I believe you missed out one person there. Who’s this lovely creature?” his piercing eyes shifted towards a blushing Victor.

“H-hewwo. It’s-a-me, Victor. I study the bin and all its properties. I teach many students, at least one person is - WAS - enrolled in my class. We all miss him, may he rest in pieces.”

Kaneme chuckled.

“I am Fuhrer Bradley,” joke’s on him, the only leader of lands around here was LORD GOO, “And this is my fellow inspector and monk, Asahina Kaname, who enjoys flirting with his relatives.”

“Hey,” Kaname cooed, “Will you allow my parents to adopt you?” He held his hand out in the direction of the binman study’s teacher.

Victor reached up with a quivering hand towards Kaname, whose eye’s glimmered.

Kakashi slapped his hand down and dragged Victor toward the group of teachers by his collar, choking him. The pitiful silver-haired man moaned with pleasure. Kakashi immediately dropped him out of disgust, clenching the hand that touched the disgusting little man.

“Later,” Kaname promised, licking his lips.

“Before all else, we just need to talk a little about what’s been going on at this fine establishment,” the Fuhrer hoped to repress the disgusting display he’d just witnessed from his memory forever. He wondered when he’d finally get used to Kaname’s sluttiness, and considered leaving him in the Oxbridge brothels for the duration of the inspection.

“W-what would you - you like to know?” Victor stared wide-eyed at Kaname.

“Baby, just know I’ve been using these prayer beads to pray for a boi like you.”

The Fuhrer slapped Kaname behind him with his forearm. “We would like to know what has been happening around the university, the circumstances around the many deaths that have happened on the school grounds, the Triwizard Tournament, and anything else of interest.”

“Do I need a lawyer?” Fukazawa snapped. “I’ll also have you know that the most recent set of deaths we’ve already been prosecuted for, so you can’t allow that to affect the performance grade of the university.” His gaze was steely as he stared down the two disgusting men polluting his airspace.

“True no one’s died since we were trialled!” said Victor, “I mean there was the Triwizard Tournament where Yuki almost died so many times. And of course Mori died for a while when the students all broke into jail to rescue us, but he was brought back to life so dwont wowwy.” He finished with a sexy wink.

Victor considered he was speaking out of turn so someone would strangle his detty, detty throat with their big boi palms. He looked up to Kaname longingly.

“If you could stop flirting for one minute…” muttered Shanks, trying his best not to choke Victor. He knew the man would only enjoy it.

“So you can flirt with Hawkeye but I can’t with my mans?” demanded Victor, with a sudden burst of courage. He was tired of having to work to be choked, where were the times when he could be throttled on demand?

“You and Hawkeye?” demanded the Fuhrer immediately and sharply to the Red-Haired Emperor. Victor knew he’d done something naughty and hoped only for the best.

“Yeah,” said Victor again, “Everyone knows him and Hawkeye have a rewationshwip. It was my favourite ship after Usopp and Shu, and Shanks and his bitch. Sometimes I felt like maybe Hawkeye and Chuuya, his student, were together, but I’ve been told since that i was...mwistaken.”

Fukazawa seethed. He clenched his fists - but it wasn’t the right time to beat the everliving hell out of Victor. He tried to relieve some of his tension, sighing dramatically and clicking his tongue.

The Fuhrer’s face pinched but he tried not to show too much of a reaction to the new information. “And we, uh…” he tried realign his thoughts, “Well, uh - have you gone through the necessary procedure with HR?”

“Yes, when necessary,” Fukazawa punctuated, “Aside from for Shu and Usoop, they were already dead before we had the chance. Shanks’ bitch was of course a non-student so she wasn’t a problem. We don’t enrol dogs here, only reindeers. Hawkeye and Shanks have never slept together...i would know...and Hawkeye has no interest in Chuuya because no one does.”

The Fuhrer nodded slowly. “That all checks out. We’ve also received an anonymous tip from Kurapika about health and safety violations during this so-called Triziwrd tournamont. Are you aware that pitting students in a fight against tigers and leaving them abandoned in the forest for days is not normal procedure?”

“I’ve done worse,” Kakashi announced.

“Oh, is that so?” The Fuhrer looked down at his papers. “You know what then, just don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s not a big deal.”

“It isn’t. I ensured that the Knottingham Trent candidate wouldn’t die and by doing so I had to be sectioned for a period of six months to regain my sanity,” Shanks’ expression turned dark.

Hawkeye squeezed his shoulder comfortingly, he knew how torturous those times with that awful Yuki had been. He dropped his hand when he saw the Fuhrer’s focus on it. The gesture was being misconstrued.

The Fuhrer nuded again. “Now that that’s all cleared up, let us begin our inspection of the school grounds and your teaching. I'm sure the level of teaching here is astounding considering the high marks all of your students receive, I'm looking forward to experiencing the senpais myself in person and in the sheets. I hope they have a lot to teach me. Kaname is lacking in many departments. If i were to post his package it would fit in an A6 envelope.”

No one seemed to notice the odd digression.


Fukazawa decided that the smartest move would be to cancel teaching for the duration of the inspector’s visit so they would be unable to scrutinise it. Though the teaching methods were successful, to the mundane eye perhaps the genius of having lesson plans on scraps of receipts would appear lazy or unenthused. The last time he’d inspected one of Kakashi’s lessons was two decades ago, and he was only into softcore porn back then.

The inspectors seemed perturbed by the development but could do nothing to change it, so they took to the corridors. By Fukazawa’s orders Shanks ensured the more embarrassing students were sent on a field trip so they wouldn’t reflect badly on the school.

Unfortunately he forgot one of the newer students. When Shanks was compiling the list of students to send to ‘get lost’ in the caravan Tomoe was getting drunk and seemed to have forgotten about the land shrine goddess he was in charge of.

The consequence of that unravelled quickly.


The Fuhrer and Kaname were patrolling the school grounds. So far they had spoken to the Indian prince, Soma, and the smart guy with glasses from Ouran. It struck them that many of the students in the school were Japanese.

Regardless, the students they had encountered thus far were delightful, and the Fuhrer opened his mouth to suggest to Kaname they both leave (he wanted to get Kaname away from the binman studies teacher ASAP) when suddenly they heard something eerie…

Chapter Text

Tomoe had to keep Nanami occupied, fast, before she spoke to the inspectors and showed up the university. She had only been accepted onto the programme because of Tomoe, who vouched for her. In retrospect it probably wasn’t the best idea, but Tomoe was drinking and wanted Nanami to leave him alone in the Oxbridge brothel.

It took him a moment to locate her. She was sitting on a bench near the campus lake; the air was cold enough for Tomoe to feel it under his robes.

Nanami leant her head back and looked towards the sky. A few moments passed with her seated, her familiar stood beside her, before she opened her mouth to talk.

“The stars…the sky is so clear tonight. Don’t you think it’s pretty, Tomoe?”
He watched his mistress before looking up at the sky. After seeing the same sky every night it’s merged into one boring plane of shifting colour. But he had to keep Nanami occupied and away from the inspectors, and he quickly came up with an idea that would engage the simpleton’s attention.

“Do you want to see it closer?”


Tomoe held Nanami up, his arm around her waist. It was colder on the roof. Tomoe realised how easy it would be to push her off the edge but forced himself to relent - at least until the inspectors had left the grounds.

Tomoe walked along the edge of the cement roof, the wind rippling through his robes and silver hair. He tipped his head over a little. “Shanks told me a young woman such as yourself is likely to have romantic feelings towards someone available…like me. But I would hope that isn’t true.”

Nanami stopped Tomoe with a fist in his robes. “And if it were true?” They were close enough for Tomoe’s hair to brush against her nose and the ridges of her cheekbones. “If I…liked you?”

Tomoe threw his head back into the night air, laughing. “Ah Nanami. Your imagination never fails to amuse me. I’m sure this fresh air will be enough to return you to your sanity!” Tomoe grabbed her shoulders and shook her wildly.

“Tomoe! Tomoe, stop!” Nanami grabbed Tomoe’s hands to try and pry them off her, though as a spirit he was stronger…

“No! You stop with this lunacy! You are my student and I am your teacher. A yokai and a human – stop this!”

Nanami stopped struggling, as did Tomoe. His hands were still on her shoulders – she was leaning over the end of the roof – they stilled.

“What – so, so – you’ve never-“ a tear dripped off Nanami’s cheek. “You’ve never found me attractive?”

Her heel clipped off the end of the roof and Nanami fell backwards, almost in slow motion – she dropped right out of Tomoe’s hands –


Tomoe’s eyes widened. “Nanami!” He jumped off the roof after his student–

“Take my hand, Nanami – take my hand and let me save you!” Tomoe held his hand out towards Nanami, though he was inches too far to catch her – and with every second that passed the ground got closer, though it was practically in slow-motion, like dribbling through a slushie – her clothes wrapped around her and were practically pulled off her, the wind pulled her apart –

“Nanami please, give me your hand and let me save you!”

Tears dripped out Nanami’s eyes and were torn by the wind. “So – so you never liked me? So you never felt anything for me?”

The speech was distorted by the drop though the words were understandable and Tomoe’s eyes widened and desperation welled in his tone, “Nanami, please-“

Nanami looked at his pale hand, slender fingers –

The impact with the ground made her eyes roll to the back of her head.

Tomoe landed steadily on his feet beside her deceased body.

Not two metres from where she landed stood both inspectors. The Fuhrer’s expression was painted in disbelief.

Tomoe took a step in front of Nanami’s corpse, drawing their attention towards him. “Just ignore that, gentlemen. Nothing to see here. Really. I’m not sure if there is anyone on this earth who would feel her loss. Actually I’m sure she consented to organ donation. I always knew she’d be worth more dead than alive.”

Kaname fainted.


The inspectors were made aware of the circumstaces surrounding Nanami’s death and they ascertained a suicide could not be blamed on the institution.

However, they remained at the university for the rest of the week to see what measures they would put in place to deal with bereavement and help with student wellbeing. It was hard to ignore the rotting body for the entirety of the week by the main entrance. No one had bothered to clean it up, flies surrounded the corpse which smelled worse than anything they’d ever smelt before, including Gluttony’s breath. Even the students seemed to be largely apathetic towards the presence of the rotting body, merely stepping over or around the corpse. One morning someone had even taken the time to fit a wig over the deceased’s head and paint her face like the infamous Ronald McDonald.

As each day passed it dawned on the Fuhrer that there was clearly no intention by any of the staff to dispose of the deceased. There had been no sign of a memorial plaque, no therapist invited to talk to mourning students. But the body.

PArt of her arm was missing, and there was rumours of a drunk student biting it off.


Fukazawa picked up the envelope emblazoned with the Ofsted seal.

“That’s it?” Kakashi drawled, turning the page of his erotica novel.

Fukazawa nodded. “This - this is it. This is the feedback for the observation the Ofsted employees gave us.”

Fukazawa decided he had to be the first to read it, before any of his loyal subordinates.

Dear Fukazawa of Oxbridge,

It is the intention of the Ofsted committee to ensure a safe and healthy standard is maintained nationwide through education institutions. Due to Oxbridge’s notorious global standing our expectations were, of course, proportionate.

We would firstly like to thank you for being so hospitable. We found your school grounds charming and your students appeared to be satisfied by their teaching, though unfortunately for the entirety of our ten-day visit we were unable to witness any classes being held. There were some cases of indiscretion and student-teacher relationships, though we found no supporting evidence of this. We also found satisfactory evidence that Oxbridge followed health and safety guidelines in their recent interuniversity event, the Triwizard Tournament.

Our main cause for concern, however, is the reception of the death of your student Nanami Momozomo. Though we identify that neither Oxbridge or its affiliates can be blamed for student suicide, there seemed to be a complete disregard for the wellbeing and safety of the other students on-campus.

Though Principal Fukazawa has suggested that the death of their late janitor, Shu, is the reason for the corpse to be left on campus for an unsafe and unsanitary period of time, Ofsted have reason to believe that there were other methods of disposing of the toxic waste present on campus.

We would also like to note that such inaction would most definitely be the cause of mental trauma and anguish among the student body, and we feel that the university as a whole has more responsibility in this incident than they are willing to admit.

Therefore with the health of Oxbridge students in mind, we regret to inform you that Oxbridge university must close indefinitely.

Students must be rehoused and transferred to safer higher education institutions. The school must produce a public apology and Principal Fukazawa must sign the enclosed document, which will bar him from teaching for the rest of his career.

Kind Regards,
Ophsted xox

Chapter Text

Fukazawa’s hand shook, the letter quivering in his grip.

“What does it say?” Tomoe drawled, clearly disinterested.

For the second time since the Triwizard Tournament, Fukazawa seemed to be having a breakdown. He pressed his face into his hands and dragged his fingers to his hair, tugging. “I can’t believe them! I can’t believe this!”

Kakashi sighed, removing his mask from his sharingan eye. “They’re closing Oxbridge forever and removing Fukazawa’s teaching licence.”

“They’re taking Oxbridge from me,” Fukazawa gritted his teeth, muscles in his cheeks bunching. “I worked hard for Oxbridge - they have no right…and my students need us, the jailbreak is clear example of that...” Fukazawa continued to mutter to himself, again speaking in his hands, voice muffled.

“The Indian student taught me that i had to believe in my students, even the selectively mute ones that you consider completely lost and pathetic. The students will be fine.” Hawkeye’s tone was bereft of emotion. Surprisingly none of the teachers seemed largely concerned about the situation; even Fukazawa seemed to be coping more with the shock of losing his school rather than real sadness or anger at the accusations pinned on him in the letter.

Victor was crying in the corner of the room, screaming for his boi Kaname. Fukuzawa’s son Ranpo had just entered the office to use his personal Smarties dispenser, and heard this shocking news.

Ranpo immediately moved to push his glasses up his nose to solve the predicament his father found himself in - but oh! No! His glasses weren’t on his face, how would he be able to use his super deduction skills??? For the first time in months Ranpo opened his eyes, finally seeing the light and his father’s office. How could he find his glasses without his deduction skills?? Would he have to leave his father?

For a moment Ranpo looked between the six adults, unable to recognise which was his father now his eyes were open, and he quickly turned to leave the office, overwhelmed.

“I for one refuse to be part of this public apology. I honestly don’t care.” Tomoe sat on the edge of Fukazawa’s desk, arms crossed.

The other rael teachers seconded his notion. They seemed most upset by Fukazawa’s reaction to the poor news. Of course it was widely known that the lecturers took the role as a hobby more than as a means to earn money; Shanks had his clothing line specialising in hats, Hawkeye had his trade and transport routes, Kakashi was a famour erotica author (and the live actions which he starred in), and no-one knew where Tomoe got his money though Forbes identified the origins of his wealth to be largely suspicious.

“No one’s apologising to anyone, of course. To suggest it is absurd, especially given none of this was our fault,” said Fukuzawa. “It’s all the fault of that damn janitor, Shu. Even beyond the grave he torments us, and we are merely puppets dancing to his tune.”

Shanks shook his head. “I should have killed him with the chair in the cheeseboard before he started shagging Usopp.”

“First off, we need a plan for the students. I propose we send them to another prestigious University where they can flourish and continue to dance their way to the final throwdown. Tamaki has just mastered the tango, Mori is a specialist in exotic dancing. The dance competition has been ruined now.”

“Unfortunately we have no hand in that, and can only hope the students forgive us for that. But regardless...which university should we send them to, which is good enough for our students…?” Fukazawa stared through the gaps between his fingers, looking out towards the school grounds out the window.


The first thing Tamaki noticed was how disgosting the Knottingham Trent school grounds were compared to Oxbridge. These were not fit for a king like himself! There was only one library which was clearly an old strip club (Tonpa the deceased nurse used to be very popular there), and this place didn’t even have university brothels! The walls were greying with moss and an interesting smell clung to each and every room. Tamaki shivered. He didn't know how he would last in this new building, without the supporting Oxbridge teachers, but was glad to have his friends with him. At least they would all suffer together.

Thankfully his daughter Haruhi seemed to be acclimating well. Tamaki turned to face forward on his desk. He couldn’t see Zoro in the room, but perhaps he hadn’t arrived to Knottingham Trent yet, most likely lost.

The first class was something Tamaki would never forget.

They were met by their new teacher. A short man with a big cock, the best type. And so bootiful he looked like a small child. Honey was instantly jealous of the lolita vibes he was getting off him. He hoped he could be as adorable when he turned 40. Mori seemed to be thinking something along the same lines. He decided he would make a proposition to this beautiful creature before the hour was up, and waited in this seat patiently.

“Welcome to today’s class. I see we have some new students here today. They are joining us from the prestigious university Oxbridge university, which has recently announced its permanent closure. I was sad to hear the news; I’ve been applying there for years yet for some reason the principal seemed to think I was too short for the job. The principal would always highlight to me that they were not ‘short-staffed’, though I’d like to note that I am clearly a better candidate than that binman studies tutor. I would know, I fucked him once from dusk till dawn. I used this,” he pulled out a pointer from his pocket which he unfolded to about a metre and a half in length, “To fuck him as well, and let me tell you what I lack in height I make up with in creativity and the pursuit of pleasure. Never once have any of my partners left my bed dissatisfied.

“My name is Heine Wittgenstein, and I will be your tutor for the rest of your astrology degree, unless of course in some unforeseen circumstance Knottingham Trent also closes down. I hope you will enjoy my lessons, and that you will give your best to my class so that you’ll find it most fulfilling.

“Today’s class will be on how to calculate the rising sign. Can anyone tell me what this sign is?”

Tamaki raised his hand.

“Yes, Suoh?”

Tamaki gasped. “You know my name?”

“Yes, I’ve seen you in the local gay bars. I assume you visit those for anonymity?”

“I was trying to figure out my sexuality after the body switch thing!” Tamaki shouted defensively, face flushing red. He ducked his head in embarrassment and hid his face in his arms. Haruhi raised her eyebrow in interest.

Dazai lent over his desk and whispered to him, “I know of some good gay bars closer to Oxbridge if you’re interested, I frequent them regularly with Shanks, Hawkeye and Fukazawa. Sometimes Zoro and Sanji too if they’re not tired of the straight bars.” This seemed to perk Tamaki up.

“What was your answer Suoh?”

“Actually I had a very important question.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“When are you going to go to sleep so we can do independent classes?”

“I don't sleep, EVER, and even if I did I would never do it in class.”

“Peculiar,” Hikaru muttered. “He must not understand the essence of his job description. What is he doing?”

The Oxbridge students sat in silence and watched in awe as Heine stood at the front of his classroom, using his anal pointer to motion to a diagram on the screen. The red-headed man seemed to be getting enthused about the topic; Atusuhi was scribbling busily on sheaths of paper, Kyoya’s glasses glinted and his lips were twisted in a slight smirk. Were these students so dumb and pathetic that they needed to be spoon-fed by a two-foot commoner teacher who probably didn’t even have a degree himself? Perhaps this transfer would be more interesting than he thought.

Heine then divided them into small groups for a quick project. Kyoya and Tamaki were paired with Zeno and Eren, two well-known and well-liked Knottingham Trent students. Erin had been in the goblet of fire as a potential representative for the university; he was extremely popular and known for his intelligence.

“Hi! Zeno’s name is Zeno! Zeno is hungry, when’s lunch?”

“I’ll do this project,” Eren snapped. “I don’t want you guys ruining my grade. Professor Heine is a hardass and I don't need you guys pulling me down.”

An impasse had been reached. Tamaki’s expression dropped. He hadn’t even had the chance to introduce himself to the new students and the people he hoped to be his future friends.

He felt uncomfortable watching Eren do all the work, and when he voiced his concerns to Kyoya they decided they too would do the group project, but separately, in the hopes that they could merge their tasks at the end. It took Tamaki and Kyoya all but two minutes to complete the task, and they watched Eren struggle for the remainder of the twenty minutes. The boyo was sitting there sweeting, he had chewed his pen and the ink had ejaculated onto the side of his mouth and over his cheek, his eyes were bloodshot from where he had dug his nails into them in anguish during his intellectual struggle.

Finally came the time when Heine asked for each group to give feedback on their work. Somehow the rest of the ex-Oxbridge students managed to get themselves into the same group.

“This is amazing,” Heine stopped at their table and looked down at their work. “Are you sure you aren’t supposed to be enrolled into the advanced class? This is only an introductory module, i doubt the content in this class will be enough to stimulate you all. I am gobsmacked. I’ll discuss this with Deus later and see what he thinks, i can see that being around these students,” Heine motioned to the Knottingham Trent bois, “Will be a waste of time for you all, and i absolutely think that young and intelligent minds should be allowed to flourish.”

Zeno cheered. “Yay! Well done boyos! Zeno is very happy to meet such smart bois!” his face made an uwu shape.

“Might i ask, who senpai’d you to this level? I’d like to purchase all of their research materials, this is absolutely spectacular.” Heine continued to mutter to himself, spending another few moments flitting his gaze over their work. “Phenomenal, just phenomenal,” he couldn’t stop repeating.

Heine then passed by the other groups; the next few were composed exclusively of Knottingham Trent students. Their work hardly phased Heine. He kept repeating ‘satisfactory’ or akin synonyms. He was still sweating from whatever the Oxbridge students had written, and continually dabbed his brow with an old receipt. He’d kept it as a souvenir after his night with Victor, the closest he’d gotten to his goal of being an Oxbridge professor.

He then approached Tamaki, Kyoya, Zeno, and Eren’s table. Still clearly distracted, Heine picked up Eren’s piece of paper, dropped it without a second glance, and then picked up the sheet beside Kyoya and Tamaki.

“Wow. Wow,” Heine mused. “I must say, we are very lucky to have the Oxbridge students here with us today. They have most certainly added something into this class that it was previously lacking. Eren and Zeno, i can definitely see your improvement here. Is there any way i can make a copy of your work to read over in more detail in my free time? I definitely see many points for development within this work.”

Heine had directed the question to Kyoya and Tamaki; Eren’s face turned red in anger. Just as he had been doing for the last projects, Heine reached up to the table to scrawl down a grade on the project.

“Well done, Eren. I know as an overachiever you were aiming high this semester, this grade should help boost your average. Clearly Kyoya and Tamaki seem to be your key to success.”

The grade Heine had written: upper first, publishable level.

The class quickly disbanded after that; Heine was the first to leave the room. The ex-Oxbridge students looked to each other in confusion. What was that? They most certainly weren’t paying over nine grand a year to listen to someone less qualified than they were natter on and on about something he clearly didn't have a clue about.

However the Knottingham Trent students had another idea. They beelined to the Oxbridge students to quiz them on their project grades. Jae-ha grabbed Mori’s project from his grip and looked at the grade penned in red.

Each Knottingham Trent student quickly discovered the same thing.

“I can’t believe they got higher grades! Professor Heine is such a harsh grader!” Yuno snapped. “I bet he was being nice to make them feel more welcome after their school got shut down - hey, hey, guess what!” she screamed, “I heard the music and astrology teachers from Oxbridge were having sex! Apparently the principal adopted a student and keeps him as a house pet! The english teacher had sex with a student, and killed another student and then had sex with his corpse!”

Sanji and Zoro both stepped toward the hysterical girl, muscles in their arms bulging in anger, Zoro’s hand twitching as he reached for a sword, Sanji raising his dominant leg. The girl had no idea what she was talking about. Kunikida and Atsushi quickly stepped in front of them, “Remember what the professors told us - we can’t start trouble at this school. We have to give it a chance.”

It wasn’t enough to calm their rage, though it did stop them from approaching Yuno.

The ex-Oxbridge students, unsettled by the competitive nature and slander from the Knottingham Trent students, could only hope no one else made them enraged enough to lash out.

Chapter Text

It’s mid-afternoon; the hallways were painted in a halo of orange-brown, warm from post-noon sun. Zoro was lost again in the ridiculous Knottingshame Trent corridors. He had lost Sanji a few weeks ago after the French man had realised how much he had in common with the music student, Chuuya.

Zoro’s footsteps were light against the cheap linoleum flooring. His expression was tight and fixed.

A student - walking towards him? The first thing Zoro noticed was the Knottingham Trent student’s intense gaze.

The word 'lightning beast’ was whispered down the corridor, like a taunt, repeated until the separate words became impossible to distinguish from each other. Zoro couldn't tell where the noise came from until the man got closer. He was whispering it himself, blue eyes steely and stern.

“Your voice?” Zoro stopped him in the corridor.

The man looked up. “I am the Lightning Beast, Son Hak.”

“Your voice is intriguing,” Zoro revealed. Something about it was eerily familiar, but he couldn't figure out what.

“My name is Hak, bodyguard of Yona who comes from the Dawn: she is called Yona of the Dawn. She moved on from her incestuous attraction for her cousin to be with me, Hak, Litenin Bezt.” The man’s hair was dark blue brushing over the bridge of his nose, arms toned, with a glaive strapped over his back. There was an air to him - a type of lightning almost - sensual, sexual, made even the most masculine man Zoro weak at the knees.

“Interesting.” The more he heard his voice, the more Zoro wanted to get away from the man.

“The title Lightning Beast was given to me when I defeated all the generals at the ripe young age of fourteen and thusly became the strongest general in Cocoa, which I appreciate is a very small land mass only five by five metres but I fought hard for my title and held it with pride.”

Hak turned away from Zoro when he realised Zoro had nothing else to say, resuming his whispering of ‘lightning beast’.

Zoro watched the man leave from over his shoulder. Hak was an attractive man, and had an eerily similar voice to himself. The competition for the two men with hair and the same voice had, of course, only begun.


“I can't believe it, I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE IT. HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO ME? They beat my top score. I'm fuming. I got a whole 60% per cent. Before this moment 45% was the highest any Knottingham Trent student has ever received in any academic test ever! How is it even possible to get 110%? I challenged him to fight of wits, and somehow i was unarmed. Clearly Professor Heinz has a hard on for them, just because they’re oxbridge students or maybe because they met in a gay bar. This is an attack on us, the Titans!” Eren cried lewdly.

“An attack on Titans? Not allowed!” Jean shouted passionately, spittle showering everyone in the room. He would have to clean that later, on his knees, maybe they would look a little scraped. The unfortunate thing about Professor Heine’s height was that even kneeling down was too tall; one had to lay on their stomachs and tilt their head up to be the correct height to get the grade they desired. How good was Tamaki’s mouth to get 110%?

Mikasa sniffed quietly beside them, her usual calm demeanor destroyed by this blow to their popular clique, the Titans.

Yuki was beside them, listening. The Pokkle of the group. No one noticed him, why would they? But he heard their cries and smirked, knowing he was not alone in his battle with the Oxbridge students. It started with the tournament, and they may have thought it had ended with their success, but little did they know he had claimed himself as their official rival. He was dedicated to this job. Stalking them constantly, taking pictures and plastering them on his wall, he thought about them often, especially in the shower, even when having his happy ending with Yuno, his beloved. His Future Diary regularly featured ‘I think about Tamaki,’ ‘I think about Neko,’ and many more ‘I think about’s’ for all of the other Oxbridge students. Yuki was ashamed of how often he thought of Shanks, who had appeared to him in his darkest hour in the Tournament and continued to plague him in his wet dreams and in his living moments. Shanks was currently standing (shirtless) by the doorway of the classroom, and Yuki knew he was not real but Shanks was the only one who made him feel safe after the Triwizard Tournament.

Eren was still screaming. Dazai tried his hardest not to shout back. The funny thing was, Tamaki had gotten the lowest grade of the group as he usually did. Kyoya had gotten his essay published, as had Kunikida, Haruhi, and himself, though they had been told by Deus themselves not to allow it to get out to the class or they would feel overwhelmed. Apparently they usually got around 30% in these essays.

Eren threw his essay in Tamaki’s face - Tamaki looked stricken, confused, upset, his face had gotten red and blotchy from embarrassment from all the shouting, but the last straw was Eren shoving Tamaki over the back of a table.

The air in the classroom changed. The faces of the oxbridge students suddenly darkened. Dazai gripped his gun kept in its holster under his jacket. Kunikida had his tarnished Ideals at the ready. Karou gritted his teeth in shock, while Kyoya started dialling the number for his private army to have this boy exterminated like the pest he has. Mori was as silent as ever, but ANGRY silent.

“No - no!” Chopper shouted over the clamour of bodies ready to fight, dragging himself forward in his new wheelchair. His legless behind was strapped into the brace while he pulled himself along with his two remaining front legs. “This is their plan! They WANT to get us yeeted out of the college - we can’t let them bait us like this!”

Chopper had only had the priorities of his peers at the forefront of his mind. The Oxbridge professors had specifically told Chopper and the fellow students that there was no ‘bail-out’; this wasn’t like the time they had the holiday to prison. This was serious stuff - Knottingham Trent was now their school - and if they got thrown out they’d be faced with having to attend the even worse ones like Incereal College or Sheffield Harem. Or, worst-case scenario, no university would have space for them and they would end up dropping out with a debt of millions.

Though Chopper feared for the distant future of his peers, Eren clearly more fearful for his imminent end, unless he managed to redirect the violence of the Oxbridge students.

The Titans were outnumbered. Seeing the glint of Dazai’s gun, Eren felt a slither of fear and doubt creep into his mind. He wasn’t doubtful of his own abilities as a fighter, but he was currently faced with many weapons, many of which he did not understand. What was Kunikida doing with that notebook, and why was the French man’s leg on fire? What would happen if they fought the ex-Oxbridge students and lost? (Thankfully, Yuki was close enough - Eren snatched the Future Diary from his hands, wanting to find out the outcome of the fight he seemed to have landed himself in. It read: I think about Dazai, I think about Tamaki, Shanks tells me the answers to the quiz, Eren challenges Tamaki to a battle of wits, Eren loses with 60% comparative to Tamaki’s 110%, I think about Tamaki, the Titans Attack all of the ex-Oxbridge students and lose, I think sexy thoughts about Shanks, I undress Shanks with my mind, I conceal my erection by tying a jumper around my waist, and at that point Eren decided it would be best to stop reading). What they really needed was someone, or someTHING, disposable to fight for them. But what?

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Shin-ah. He wore his mask like always, and stood silently on the side of the room. On his shoulder was his loyal squirrel, Ao, and the mascot of Knottingham Trent University. The whole university, not just the course. That would be silly.

“A battle between us would be far too easy. We are the Titans, after all, no one can Attack us. Surely more of a challenge would be for our mascots to fight for us. We’ll have this squirrel represent us in this bout!” Eren cried. Ao’s eyes glinted with unrepressed blood lust.

“This is a good way to resolve the argument and get blood for what they’ve done to Tamaki,” Chopper reasoned. “We just need to find a mascot.”

“Chopper will be our mascot,” Sanji decided abruptly.

Eren’s face paled, “No students! A mascot is an animal only!”

Zoro had entered the room in the middle of the screaming match just in time to see Eren yeet Tamaki over the table.

“I,” he announced, voice unwavering, reminding him painfully of the other boi the lightning boi the husbando of Yona, “Shall find us our mascot.” He turned sharply and left the classroom. The students all stood stock still in silence, staring each other down.

Zoro stood outside the astrology building. What should their mascot be, the animal to represent Oxbridge in their darkest hour?

Zoro re-entered the classroom, holding a screaming and chirping squirrel by its bushy tail, and threw it into the centre of the room. He had, of course, found it on a random tree, and decided it would do just fine.

“How dare this attractive man touch me?” the squirrel screamed, while also blushing. “There I, Juli, was, sitting peacefully, thinking about my girl Chi, and about how to keep those nasty boys, her own brothers, away from her. And all of a sudden I’m here!”

Chopper smiled sympathetically. He recognised the squirrel from the popular reality TV show Brother’s Conflict. “I’m sorry fluffy friendo, but we need you to fight this squirrel for us. It's for the honour of our school.”

“You want me, a kawaii squirrel to fight? Can you not see this bow I’m wearing? I'm a pure boyo. How stupid must you be?”

“Does anyone have a devil fruit,” Sanji asked, looking around. “This squirrel looks lame. I have no plan on losing this fight because Zoro, who went outside, decided against choosing any other animal that could take down a squirrel such as, for example, a bear, a dog,” Sanji ran out of animals (his skilled brain was suffering around all of these dumbass Knottingham students).

Ao didn't give them any chance for more arguing. She leapt off Shin-ha’s shoulder and into battle with a cute chirp. She immediately gripped Juli’s bow with her small pointed teeth, and pulled, choking the grey squirrel. At first Juli enjoyed it, but then the squeezing on his neck became tighter and it became uncomfortable as his lungs struggled. His tiny front paws slapped at Ao’s. His eyes started to bulge, the veins popping. His heart beat loudly in his ears. He struggled and twisted round, batting Ao with his paw, but it was weak, his small feet not used to combat. But Ao was. She had fought in so many battles alongside her friends, and she’d learned to enjoy the taste of death.

Just as Juli’s vision started to get dark, Ao let go.

She wasn't ready for this fight to end so quickly, but alas it still lasted longer than all of the Titans. Ao knew she could still have fun tormenting this squirrel first. She wanted to taste blood. To rip flesh apart with her fangs. To hear his cries as he begged for mercy, and to watch as his eyes glazed over with the arrival of death.

The students, who had quickly circled the two combatting squirrels, had a mixture of responses to the fight. The Oxbridge students were irate, showing their displeasure through gritted teeth and balled fists. Their squirrel clearly wasn’t the strongest. It was weaker than any creature they had ever come across. The Knottinham Trent students, namely Eren, stood in excitement as their mascot almost butchered another one of her kind.

Juli regained his balance and panted, whipping round to glare at his opponent. He wouldn't let the smaller squirrel surprise him again. Bunching his muscles, he lept at Ao, paws outstretched, trying to go for her eyes. But Ao was quicker. She jumped neatly to side, then raised a paw to shove Juli’s shoulder, unbalancing him. He fell to the side, exposing his belly. With one fatal blow, Ao slit his body from his throat to tail with her sharpened claws.

Juli screamed in pain and terror, the sound eliciting winces from the audience, and then started to choke. The blood erupted quickly from the deep wound, from a fountain to a river in seconds, staining the floor red. The image made Atsushi feel sick, reminding him about the time when he had been birthed from Shu’s body. Juli’s body started to shake and convulse, his tail waving in panic. Looking around him, he could see the crowd of leering faces, the Knottingham Trent students who were chanting for his death.

With his final breath, he cursed the ex-Oxbridge students. He hoped they would all die painful deaths. But he couldn't bring himself to linger on them, as his last thoughts turned to his beautiful mistress. Who would protecc her? She might end up marrying one of her own brothers!

And then his body finally stilled, his head slumped to the side. His small body took its final breath. The bow that his mistress had so lovingly given to him laid crumpled beneath his now cold body.

The outcome of the fight was quite anticlimactic. The Oxbridge students filed out of the classroom one by one, angry, and making plans to go to the local gay bar to drink away their misery. They didn’t want to stay and watch the Knottingham Trent students celebrate their pathetic victory.

Eren and the other Titans were practically pissing themselves with joy. They whooped and cheered, Jean did a victory dance, Mikasa repeatedly hit the Woah. Ao chirped joyfully, rolling in the blood, soaking it into her fur to show off her victory. She leapt back onto Shin-ah’s shoulder; his demeanor had never changed throughout the fight, and even in the face of victory he did not smile, although he patted her head happily. They were all so excited, the Knottingham students didn't even notice when they trampled the corpse of the deceased squirrel! His skull crunched underfoot, but alas. The day was finally going their way. Erin had of course known that they wouldn't have won in a hand-to-hand combat, but to think the dumbass Knottingham Trent squirrel could actually win was spectacular. Of course he would rather have the innocent animal die rather than himself of any of his peers be injured, he wasn’t stupid! Plus, if the squirrel were to lose, it wouldn't affect his pride as much as if he himself had lost in hand-to-hand combat.

Eren had almost forgotten that Tamaki had almost doubled his grade in the recent test, achieving a whole 50% more than him.

Chapter Text

The metaphorical ruins of Oxbridge layed scattered beneath their feet. For what was a university without students? What were empty halls without the chatter and clamour of wide-eyed bois and girls with a thirst for both knowledge and their exceedingly attractive professors?

Fukazawa sat in his office, alone, and stared down at the university grounds. Oxbridge was certainly always going to be the institution he opened, filled with hand-picked professors who he knew would do him justice. Perhaps one day it would reopen with a new headmaster, someone more worthy. Someone who didn't leave a body to rot on the beautiful school grounds.

Out of spite neither Fukazawa or the other professors had moved Nanami’s corpse, and it still lay there rotting and attracting flies.

Due to the sheer size of the school grounds none of the professors had bumped into each other for a few weeks, unless it was a planned meet-up. The important dance competition had been postponed until a future unknown date. The majority of them just stayed in their offices and classrooms. Last Fukazawa heard, Kakashi was starring in the live action for one of his erotica novels, and apparently he was enjoying himself very much so. The main character of the novel was a man gifted with a sharingan eye, who could look into his partner’s soul and see their sexual kinks and turn-ons. In the case depicted in the novel, the protagonist found himself someone who enjoyed both breathplay and eating garbage.

Fukazawa had of course not read the novel. There was no correlation between the contents of the novel and Fukazawa’s knowledge of the plot. Just because he knew what happened and had written a review for a local newspaper about it did NOT mean he had read the novel. He was not reading the novel in his spare time after losing his job as the Oxbridge professor.

Soma had gotten to know his professors more intimately than ever before.

Soma had become the star student of the studentless university. He knew all the answers to the quiz because there was no quiz. He was the most popular student because he was the only student. He was the jock, the nerd, and the hot cheerleader.

The thing was, he had unfortunately been left behind when everyone else left on the school bus. Soma had been with the house elves, cooking up Sebastian’s curry recipe with the house elves. He was excited to share his cooking with his fellow students and see their faces light with joy. Shanks, who had been tasked with loading the students up on the bus, had forgotten Soma existed. Soma was just happy to be alive unlike poor, poor Ciel, his best friend and little brother, slaughtered by the undying beast Pokkle. Pokkle was an immortal being, everyone knows that, I'm sure he'll be back soon (wink wink).

Even though both Shanks and Hawkeye had seen Soma in the school halls after the school had shut down, they didn't seem to realise something was amiss, instead nodding to the student as they walked past. Soma found himself enjoying the solitude. He had tried to tell Fukazawa about the mix-up, but Fukazawa was too busy immersed in the wonderful and descriptive writing of Kakashi’s most recent novel, and Soma knew when to leave a man in peace. He had read the novel himself and didn't want to detract from his headmaster’s enjoyment of it.

He was most certainly excited for the live-action to be released, and Kakashi had even scouted him as an extra for the film. He was the one delivering the garbage to the love interest to eat, and getting paid back in OTHER ways (Off screen because Soma did not want to partake in nudity for films, no matter how tastefully it was handled).

After a while Soma found himself exploring different parts of the Oxbridge castle. Apparently when magic still existed the school had been called Hogwarts and was owned by a very old man called Dumbledore. Unfortunately all the wizards were gay so magic died out within a single generation, leading to Oxbridge. Soma found this information very interesting, and decided that he would write a novel about his exploration of England just as the colonisers had done about his lands. This of course made him very sad to think about, to think that the grounds he walked on were the same grounds that taught those who would infect his lands with heirachisations and colourism that would still be present in the present day. Soma considered that perhaps by using Sebastian’s curry recipe he was perpetuating the same problem of colonisation, remarketing his own culture through the gaze of the coloniser.

He was pondering these very interesting ideas when he walked into a room he had never seen before. He squinted when he walked through the door, the lights bright and cutting. Placing his hand on his brow to shade his vision, Soma walked further into the room.

He was met with something more surprising than the time he discovered his father was the King of India at the age of fifteen.

The binman studies teacher, Victor N, dropped from his pirouette and landed on the ice, perfectly balanced (as all things should be). His arse was perfectly shaped in his tight pantaloons Soma noticed excitedly. Soma hadn’t noticed Victor’s appealing figure until then; the man usually wore ill-fitting bin bags.

Soma just wanted to burst with excitement. Who knew his professor was so talented and (hem hem) well-rounded! He knew he shouldn't have doubted Victor or Fukazawa's choice in hiring him. He held his breath, and Victor continued to spin and dance on the ice without even noticing he was there.

Soon enough, Soma couldn't hold himself back. “Victor-san? You’re spectacular! Amazing! How do you know how to-”

Upon the disturbance, Victor slipped on the ice and fell onto his palms in shock. “Waaaaaaah! Soma-kun?” he shouted. “Owo what is this?”

“It is I, your dear Indian student! You are an exceptionally talented dancer Victor-senpai, I-”

Victor let out an ear-splitting screech, curling into himself on the ice. “No!” he shouted in his Russian accent, covering his ears with his palms, “Please, no! Soma-chan, please promise you won’t tell anyone about this, I - I can’t take the shame of people knowing this!”


“No!” Victor cried harder, body quaking. Soma couldn’t even reach him; the man was in the centre of the ice rink. He could feel Victor’s pain - Soma felt his heart breaking, tears welling in his eyes. He had only ever seen his binman studies teacher being happy, delighted, easily pleased, turned on, amused, and entertained, and quite often pitiful. However he had never seen Victor outside of his child-like cycle of superficial emotions; he had never seen so much pain in one single man before, let alone Victor.

“That - it was that monster!” Victor let out a pained cry, as if someone was physically brutalising him. “That monster - Pokkle! I - I...he ruined me! That monster Pokkle ruined me!” He sobbed even harder, holding himself close as if he was trying to press himself back together.

“Sempai…” Soma muttered. “Please come off the ice and into my awaiting arms. I want to make you whole again. Will you let me?” Soma just wanted to hold Victor until he’d taken away his pain, until they shared the burden. No-one deserved to feel so much horror, let alone this sensitive, talented man with the beautiful arse.

Pokkle watched from heaven, smirking his usual smirk. He had tricked his way into heaven; it was too easy. He pokkled even from the afterlife. Watching his victims tremble in fear was the only thing that brought him unsolicited joy. He adjusted his hat, gripped his arrow and bow, shooting a bolt from the sky that turned into lightning; it was very dramatic. He had become Zeus after he ate him.

Victor didn't think he wanted- or deserved- any kind of affection - not since Pokkle beat it out of him, not since Pokkle had shouted at him and told him what a worthless piece of garbage he was, not since Pokkle told him the truth about himself that everyone else had been too nice to tell him to his face. But something in Soma’s expression made him feel less guarded, made him feel enough strength to pull himself off the ice and into the warmth of his grip.

“Everything will be okay,” Soma whispered into his ear, holding the other man close. He had to stop his hands from wandering down to his tight, well rounded, bubble-butt quality arse. The things he could do with this arse (no homo). “You’re safe now. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Victor trembled. He wasn’t sure if the student was telling the truth or lying just to get a higher grade. He could hear Pokkle’s voice screaming profanities to Victor in his ear, as if the man wasn’t even dead (wink wink). Nevertheless, Victor recognised that he needed some kind of comfort; he couldn't carry the burden of being himself for much longer. Soma was practically holding all his weight up, petting his thinning silver hair and squeezing himself close, his fingers slipping down lower and lower.

Soma tried to ignore the stench of garbage coming off the binman studies teacher, secretly plugging his nose behind his back. He'll have to wash himself vigorously later, scrubbing the stain of peasants touching him off his perfectly formed body. He had the body of a god, and no one, not even Victor, could tarnish it.


For the first time in years, Victor spoke honestly. He told Soma all about the horrors he had faced at the hands of Pokkle. How the boyo was a star student and Victor knew no one would believe him over Pokkle. How Pokkle showed Victor how worthless he was, how he was worth less than the very trash he consumed. How Pokkle made him realise he didn’t deserve to eat real food. How Pokkle had revealed everything that the other teachers had hidden about him. And whenever Victor would notice something odd, something that would disprove his story, Pokkle would remind him that he was delusional and had a personality disorder he had never been diagnosed with. Victor was constantly confused, unable to trust himself. All he knew was what Pokkle told him - it was the only word he could trust. If he even considered opening his situation up to a third party, he would remember that he wasn't seeing the world correctly, what with the personality disorder Pokkle was sure he had.

Victor knew he was worth less than the ground he walked on, and that the only reason he was kept as a tutor in Oxbridge was because of Pokkle’s performance, which Pokkle constantly reminded him was due to Pokkle himself rather than Victor at all. After Pokkle’s death Victor was constantly paralysed with the fear that the tutors would throw him out of the school, that they would remember how disgusting he was and make him leave the only place that had been close to his home. He would lay awake at night, frozen in his bed, shivering with fear and sobs, holding himself tightly in the hopes he could press himself out of existence.

Soma rocked him gently, pressing his face into his hair. He didn't know what to say to the man. Soma had never met Pokkle but he had never felt so much hatred for someone before.

“Victor, this must have all been very difficult for you,” Soma muttered. He wasn’t good at serious talks, but he had watched a lot of My Little Pony episodes recently and knew that the power of friendship could heal all wounds. “I would like to tell you that all of what Pokkle said was a lie, you are not worthless. I am a Prince, I assure you that in this capitalist world I understand the concept of worth. If Pokkle were alive today, or if I was here...before he died...I would have killed him, or i would have had my companion Agni kill him. That man deserved his death and I am so sorry it didn’t happen sooner.

“Having said that, I would...I would like to see you dance again, on the ice. We don’t have such establishments in India; you must have watched Charlie in the Chocolate Factory, things have the tendency to melt in my homeland.”


Soma pulled his head out of Victor’s hair to face him. “Your dancing was truly brilliant, Victor sempai. I would be honoured to see it again.”

“Not alone,” Victor decided, standing. He felt a burst of energy and held his hand out to his student.

Soma had no choice but to slide his hand into the man's, heart racing...

Chapter Text

They glided across the ice together, like two lovers entwined, gracefully like swans. Initially Soma’s body had stuttered on the ice, his feet unable to coordinate him properly; Victor had pulled the boi closer, guiding him with hands on his hips and their chests pressed together. Soma could feel the heat of Victor's body pressed against his, and Victors warm breath in his ear, and he shivered. Was it from the cold, or from something else?

“Do you trust me?” Victor murmured in Soma’s ear, voice husky.

Soma could do little but swallow and nod as his Aladdin fantasy came true, face flushed. He could feel the heat between them and couldn’t even stare his senpai in the eye.

His heart trembled when Victor abruptly pulled away from him, their hands still locked together. Victor twirled him in the air like a Prince would in movies. His fingers roamed against Soma’s skin and all Soma wanted was for more, more contact, more exploration, for their bodies to become one, until he didn't know where his body began and ended.

Later, in the changing room, Soma pulled of Victor’s jacket and pushed him into the shower to get the stench of trash off him and pulled the shower curtain shut. The water soaked his hair and ran over his face. The water splashed over his lean, muscular chest, making his pink sensitive nipples harden from the force of the water. Victor shut his eyes, surrounded by a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.

“There’s shower gel and shampoo on the windowsill,” Soma said, directing him from outside.

Victor squeezed some into his palm. Victor hadn’t smelt fresh citrus scent in far too long. He pressed it into his hair and scrubbed his body until he was clean of all the trash...clean of Pokkle. He remembered himself before Pokkle, when he was clean and refined, looking like the person he was in his Oxbridge tutor ID photos. Back then, he was a young and unassuming man, with all of the confidence one person could have.

Victor left the shower. He was surprised Soma was still waiting for him; he’d been in there for a long time. He had only a towel wrapped around his waist. Soma was surprised that his diet of garbage had maintained his athletic figure with rippling muscles on his milky skin.

They stared at each other silently. Water dripped down Victor’s chest. Victor saw himself reflected in Soma’s gaze. He realised he couldn’t be as worthless as he thought if someone was able to look at him like that, with so much innocence and hope in their gaze. If someone could look so happy and simultaneously so nervous and, and...

Could this be it - could this be his redemption? Would him taking care of Soma, treating him like the king he was, be a way to prove to himself that he was worth more than Pokkle had convinced him? Victor kept Soma’s gaze. The boi took a step forward; their noses brushed. Victor closed his eyes. Soma’s lips...were soft, and gentle...Victor felt something in his chest and the boy pulled away.

Victor’s lashes were wet with tears. Could love heal him? Had he felt an emotion this strongly that wasn’t self-hatred, loathing? He opened his eyes and stared at the young Indian prince.

He knew he wasn’t letting Soma go - not ever.


The pair continued their ice skating lessons, their dance akin to a mating.

On one such occasion, Kakashi happened to be passing by the room. He had a break from shooting because they were struggling to find someone to cast for the love interest of the protagonist and was hoping to find Victor and convince the man into the spot. He assumed he’d find the teacher in the binman studies wing but was passing by the sports rooms to find some bondage materials which he’d use on his select harem for market research. There was already a wave of fans inquiring about his next novel’s release date.

Kakashi thought it strange that someone happened to be using the ice skating room and walked in. He saw Soma and Victor dancing together in each other’s arms. Victor twirled confidently on the ice, perfectly balanced. Soma was laughing, letting Victor lead the dance. Victor’s movements were powerful and controlled, literally sweeping his partner off his feet.

Was that Victor? Dammit, he wouldn’t fit the role for his live action. What had happened to the man?

Kakashi pulled out his phone to open the group chat and recorded the pair on the ice. He captioned it with: is this the binman studies teacher?

Tomoe was the first to reply: can’t be, his arse is too fine.

Within a matter of moments all of the professors were crowded in the front row of seats in the ice skating rink. Shanks’ arms were crossed in disinterest; Fukazawa looked at the man.

“You do realise you were supposed to send ALL of the students to Knottingham trent?”

“Someone put my underaged nephew on the school bus, excuse ME for being as irritated as you.” shanks replied gruffly.

The Great Luffini had been enjoying his time around Knottingham Trent. No-one had even noticed he was there yet.

“His arse looks even better in person,” Tomoe noted, his eyes squinting in approval as he studied those fine, round curves. “Who made him wear bin bags this whole time?”

“I was told it was a personal choice,” Fukazawa said, “Though clearly a poor one.”

“It’s no surprise he’s talented in something,” Kakashi said. “If my memory serves me correctly Fukazawa had hired him for his ice-skating abilities. He has like, five gold medals in the sport. Plus his sexuality really helped with diversity quotas considering we’re all hetero males.” Tomoe was of course also hired for the same reason as a fox-person.

“Oh yeah,” Hawkeye said indifferently. “Cool.”

“Why did he do binman studies then?” Tomoe’s eyes were still fixed on his arse, fox ears and tail twitching. He was enraptured with the man.

“I was told it was another personal choice,” Fukazawa said. “He seemed to be going through some stuff so I let him.”

“I think he’s gone through that all now,” Shanks decided. “He’s a pretty good dancer.”

“I’ll add him to the group chat,” Hawkeye pulled out his phone and tapped on it.

Notification: Victor has been added to the group chat by Hawkeye.

Sanji: Victor’s cool now?

Kakashi: Ye he’s too cool to be the love interest in my live action. Do I have any takers?

Sanji: Atsushi is still pretty lame

Kakashi: too lame

Sanji: Chopper

Kakashi: bro I’m not that desperate, don’t wanna promote beastiality in this novel, i'm saving that for next time.

Dazai: how much r u paying? I’ll do it, but only if I can commit suicide after on film.

Kakashi: sure idc

Soma: Victor’s been added!!! Hi Victor xxx

Victor: hi guys, thanks for the add! I owe you guys a drink when I next see you . Soma I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight ;)

Chopper: isn’t he in Knottingham w us?

Shanks: the idiot never got on the bus, leave it

Chapter Text

Back at Knottingham Trent, things were getting more challenging for the ex-Oxbridge students. Eren’s ego had gotten bigger than ever, which was of course only damaging for himself as he largely fell short in all circumstances, something which he no longer noticed (Mikasa had to pick up the slack for her brother/boyfriend). Oddly enough, the Oxbridge students were not used to being ridiculed. Others were better at dealing with the death-stares, sniggers, and embarrassing attempts to trip up the ex-Oxbridge students (for example Atsushi, who suffered similar isolation back in his own university, and Kyouka, mocked for her constant tales of killing over 50 people - on GTA). This was of course quite isolating for the students - the majority had nerves of steel (Sanji, Zoro, Dazai), but the Knottingham Trent students were just being disrespectful and getting in between Oxbridge students and their graduation.

It didn’t help that Tamaki didn’t take well to criticism, so the entire host club were in foul moods.

Meanwhile, Clay Jensen, face as stoic as ever, stomped down the halls.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted her, Hannah Baker. She stood in the corner, eyes staring, bearing into his sole.

He was surrounded by brightly coloured and glowing people, their hair bouncing between the colours of the rainbow, with odd ethereal glows coming from their person. One blond boy seemed to be crouching beside some sprouting dark mushrooms which had...somehow come through the tiles??? Who were they? Why did they speak in japanese? Was this another hallucination? He had many hallucinations, so many he was no longer sure what was rael lyfe. He wiped at the sweet on his brow wuth the sleve of his hoodie, the only hoodie he owned apparently because he wore it every day (much like Daniel Radcliffe in the Harry Potter series).

His mind once again turned to suicide. It was all he thought about. Hannah’s suicide was so brave. So noble. Maybe he too should follow in her footsteps… he had a tape recorder ready as well as a list of potential reasons he could narrow down to 13.

Perhaps if Dazai had known this he would finally be able to fulfil his dream of a double suicide filled to the brim of his gaping hole with romance. Clay longed for his hole to be filled by a man with experience. He dreamt about it often, even before he encountered Hannah at that house party. It circled through his mind like a child’s merry go round ride. Naturally what came with the merry go rounds was thoughts of children, which he tried to taper down...though one of his hallucinations had taken the form of a beautiful small boy - was he a fellow student, was he perhaps of age? The name that floated round his mind was that of Honey Senpai. Clay wasn’t sure if he would prefer for the boy to be legal or not. He had even been attracted to Professor Heine before realising he was an older boifriend.

He'd love to ride Dazai. Alas he did not realise that Dazai was not a hallucination, nor did Dazai know of his existence, so his desires would perhaps...never be fulFILLED...winky face.

He continued his walk, face not betraying a single thought. Or a single emotion.

Meanwhile in a different corridor, Hikaru and Kaoru split off from the rest of the Host Club. Tamaki was struggling with the lack of acceptance from the Knottingham students and the twins couldn't help but feel for him. After all, Tamaki was the one who brought them into the Host Club and introduced them to their rael family.

They walked down the corridor, pondering and contemplating, their leather Oxfords clicking against the shitty linoleum of the Knottingham buildings. How did this disgosting institution run? Was it off the coin of peasants? That would make sense, considering the garbage students it attracted.

As they contemplated and pondered, pondered and contemplated, they found themselves stilling when entering a new corridor. Who - who was that? Those two lone figures at the other end of it? Kaoru gripped Hikaru’s forearm, knowing his twin’s natural response was aggression.

The scene was rather reminiscent of that when Hak and Zoro met, all that time ago, their bodies brushing past each other as if in a sensual dance.

The other pair of figures started walking first, getting closer to the twins. The twins stared into each others eyes and nodded subtly. They couldn't believe there was another pair of similarly sized blobs with exceedingly similar hair colours approaching.

All four boys walked towards each other at the same pace with similar aloof expressions. They stopped two feet apart. Hikaru couldn’t even stand to look at the shoes of the other ginger males. Where did they locate such an awful shop in which to buy those shoes? Perhaps Haruhi would know, she was of course also a peasant.

“We’re twins. My name’s Fred, this is George.” There was no way to distinguish between the pair.

Hikaru felt himself boil with anger. Another set of ginger twins?????? If it weren’t for Kaoru’s grip, Hikaru would have torn those people to shreds. Then again, his Oxfords were from his mother’s new fashion line and there were only one hundred available in the whole world - ruining them would be a waste.

“I’m Kaoru, and this is Hikaru. We recently transferred from Oxbridge University.”

Hikaru was positively seething. When he looked at the boys standing opposite his brother, he found it difficult to tell them apart. He knew a layman wouldn’t be able to.

Who were these disgusting ginger twins, trying to edge their way into Hikaru and Kaoru’s twin territory??

“It’s noice to meet you both.” George smiled at them. Kaoru couldn’t help but note that he had the same dimpling in his cheeks that he and his brother had.

“Soooo…” Fred said after an extended silence. “How come Hogwarts wasn’t invited to the Triwizard Tournament? We are, after all, the rael wizards.”

“Hogwarts is dead,” Hikaru snapped coldly. “Get out of my way, you filthy peasants. Or I will have you forcibly removed from this earth.”

Overall, the experience was unnerving. Hikaru grabbed his twin’s wrist and pulled him past the other ginger pair which they looked identical to. He felt the back of his neck prickle. He was uncomfortable.

When he looked back over his shoulder, the two boys were staring at him with matching expressions of consideration, clearly pondering and contemplating something.


Atsushi had been feeling extra lonely recently. His only friend from Oxbridge, Soma, had not come with them for some reason, and he hadn’t even been replying to his texts. He’d replied once saying ‘Ice skating, tty 2mrw’ but then hadn’t messaged again. The other friendo he had managed to make after years of trying, Nekozawa, was nowhere to be seen recently either. The puppeteer had somehow managed to get himself a girlfriend, Nico Robin from Knottingham Trent, and now spent all his time with her. They called her ‘Devil child’ for some reason, and Nekozawa enjoyed getting dirty with the devil (NOT the child bit because he was no nonce).

Atsushi was thinking about all this as he strolled by himself in the small, disgusting, Knottingham Trent grounds when he suddenly stumbled over a log in the middle of the field.

Kunikida watched from afar as he made notes in his Ideal, he had a whole section dedicated to what he called an ‘Atsushi Owned Count’. Every time Atsushi got owned by someone or something or just by life in general, he added a little check mark to it. Right now the Owned count was at 234. Tripping over a large easy-to-spot obstacle in the middle of the empty University field? Number 235.

‘Ow what do you think you’re doing?’ grumbled the log that turned out to be no log but the man Atsushi had always considered to be the sexiest man alive.

Zoro. A beautiful man that made Atsushi’s loins burn. With hair the colour of moss that Atsushi dreamed about. With rippling muscles and calloused hands Atsushi wanted to have stroking his fur.

He inadvertently purred just looking at him. He had to touch his head to make sure his cat ears and tail weren’t showing.

Zoro’s expression turned from one of annoyance to disgust. He’d learned long ago, with Atsushi, the best thing to do was just ignore him. His moony expressions, the drool, and the frequent cat ears and tail were just too gross for Zoro to handle.

At the same time, Chopper wheeled his wheelchair closer to the edge. He wished someone would edge him. He longed to be touched again, after so long. He had his 13 raisons ready. He loved raisins. Chopper had come to the field as he had heard the rumour of there being two recently-amputated deer legs somewhere on them, and if they were fresh enough Chopper was sure he would be able to stitch them onto those he was missing.

He came to a stop when he saw something he didn't think he would ever see. Zoro was laying, body spread languidly on the green grass that perfectly complimented his green hair, with one forearm shading his brow from the afternoon sun. If Chopper had sharingan eye, he would have been able to see that Zoro’s shirt had ridden up from his posture with two inches of beautifully tanned skin visible (all of which Atsushi was THOROUGHLY enjoying). Atsushi was standing before Zoro, rocking back and forth on his feet, grinning cutely with a light flush to his face.

Anger stiffened Chopper’s remaining two legs. How dare he! How dare he make a move on his mans! Everyone always assumed that just because Chopper wasn’t human, he didn't have sexual desires like other humans. They were all wrong! Chopper was all male reindeer, hot-blooded, and he knew what he wanted from a mans! He was tired of watching his green-haired beauty from afar!

Chopper whinnied in irritation. Atsushi was really getting under his fur.

This was the final straw (hat). He knew it was time to claim his territory.

Chopper threw all thirteen of his raisins to the ground. Chopper spawned into the situation, landing so his back wheels caught Atsushi’s toes.

The boi cried out in pain, tumbling backwards with tears glistening in his eyes.

“I, Chopper, would like to apply to be the suitor of you, Zoro.” Chopper tipped his head down and rolled his two back wheels back, stretching his front legs and bowing in front of Zoro. “WIll you please accept me as a humble lover and love me tenderly in the cold winter nights, love me deeply in spring, passionately in summer, and of course lovingly in autumn.”

Unbeknownst to both Chopper and Atsushi, Zoro was already asleep again.

“Get away!” Atsushi screamed shrilly, voice breaking. “Get away, get away, GET AWAY! He’s my mans!”

Chopper whinnied threateningly over his shoulder to Atsushi, baring his herbivore teeth. Did the little kitty want to fight? Chopper would have Zoro all day and night - he’d even invite Atsushi to watch. Zoro needed an animal like himself, someone with a firm body, so he knew it wouldn’t break from rough handling during lovemaking. Chopper could imagine how strenuous their lovemaking would be, spanning over hours and days under dull candlelight, heat sweltering between their bodies.

“NO!” Atsushi screamed. “NO NO NO!” the boy was very clearly throwing a tantrum. Atsuhsi hissed like a cat, but in human form it was less than threatening. Chopper looked down his nose at him. Thankfully the love of his life was still asleep or Chopper would be throwing hooves at the juvenile boy.

Belzanoff spawned into the situation. “I have a fabulous idea,” he floated between the pair like a ghost, “You should have a cage fight to decide who is the more fitting suitor. It is the only way to decide who deserves the man lain before us. I personally have my bets on Atsushi, he is of course a rael tiger.”

Just at that moment Sanji and Chuuya were floating around in the sky; Chuuya using his anti-gravity and Sanji using his leg thing. THAT leg thing. It was a trick they’d learnt in the Triwizard Tournament and ultimately used to help Yuki out of the maze, leading Shanks to have his mental episode.

Sanji lowered his bottle of red wine. “Chuuya, do you see that? It looks like there’s a fight about to happen, I imagine a cage fight. The pair are probably fighting for Zoro’s hand, I can't imagine it being anything else.”

Chuuya sighed. Being around others was so complicated - being with Sanji was simple. Sure, he wanted to see the cage fight, but he didn’t want to be stuck singing the background music for every Oxbridge event. Sure he loved singing, but it would be nice for his talents to be properly appreciated once in a while. Who decided that was his job, anyway? Disgostin. He hoped that when he decided to settle down, he’d find someone like Sanji.

The decision was unanimous: the pair HAD to get down to the field to see the cage fight - of course, not before they sent a message into the group chat spilling the tea.

Everyone was nothing if not supportive; a number of students messaged saying to ‘hold off the fight’ ‘they’ll be there ASAP’. Even the teachers messaged in their encouragement ‘sounds like fun!’ ‘don’t forget to send us a video!’ ‘wish we could watch’. Even Hawkeye sent in a thumbs up emoji. Victor, the latest addition to the chat, sent in a tongue emoji and a winky face.

Kakashi said nothing encouraging, instead instantly placing down a bet in Chopper’s name. Two separate betting pools began for the fight, primarily because the Oxbridge tutors were betting things worth millions (Shanks still had the Kohinoor diamond around; he’d been saving it for the right occasion). Kyoya bet his father’s company. Tamaki bet Haruhi (as her father, he could do so). Sanji bet his family’s fortune (they were, after all, royalty) and the Baratie. After a quick message asking everyone else to place their bets, Sanji turned to the fighting pair.

“Cage fight. This evening, in the corn field. We have to make sure the police don’t get involved.” Sanji and Chuuya had found the location in one of their sky-escapades: it was perfect. “Ten PM should be good. You two can spend today training and preparing.”

Chopper and Atsushi both nodded, staring each other down. Chopper whinnied menacingly, and Atsushi hissed like a cat in response.

Back in the Oxbridge building, Fukazawa felt his heart swell in pride at hearing the camaraderie between his students. He had to stare up to the ceiling to stop any tears that were coming. He found this entirely moving. He knew that his students would band together in these tough times, particularly when the whole world was set on tearing apart Oxbridge in its entirety. He knew this would be his happy memory whenever he needed to summon his patronus. He sent a quick message to Zoro:

Thx for taking one for the team, appreciate it.

Chapter Text

Dazai turned to Sanji and muttered slowly, “Do you think if we let one of them die, they’ll have to shut Knottingham Trent down?”

All of the ex-Oxbridge students, bar Soma, were in the corn fields around half an hour's walk from the Knottingham Trent campus. It was clearly a place for this kind of thing: when they’d first arrived a couple of kids were sharing a joint, but upon seeing the thicc bodies of Zoro, Sanji, Sasuke, etc etc they all scarpered.

They had of course been conversing about the cage match between Chopper and Atsushi, both of which were fighting for Zoro’s hand. They simply wanted to be his suitor. Dazai was slightly shocked by the revelation: he didn’t even think Chopper had a sexual drive, but for him to aim so high out of his league? Bizarre. Dazai shivered in disgust. If he was in Zoro’s place, Dazai would most certainly kill himself - for real. Maybe he’d get mewtwo’s thicc fingers to end it all for him. Didn’t Victor have experience in choking too?

Sanji rolled his eyes. “Nah, knowing our luck. And as much as I want the Knottingham grounds to burn in a raging hellfire with the students trapped inside the disgusting festering walls, I don't think we'd benefit from going to Incereal College. From what I’ve heard, the lessons there are taken out of tents as they were unable to afford actual facilities.”

“Don’t they drink their own bathwater in that uni?” Haruhi piped up. “I considered going there, but my tastes are more for other people’s bathing fluids so I decided against it.”

Tamaki nodded supportively. His daughter was so wize.

There was a section of the corn field that was raw and nekkid from any plants, looking as if a tractor had flattened it. It was the perfect area for the cage fight to occur. They’d brought kid Luffy along - he was excited to see a kitty and reindeer have a play tustle. At that moment he was shoving bon bons into his cheeks, head falling just below Zoro’s hip.

No-one knew who had been dressing or feeding him considering the kid went missing for hours on end, but he always emerged again from wherever so none of the ex-Oxbridge students were too concerned.

Chopper was yet to arrive. Atsushi stood in the middle of the crowd, staring up at the starless sky. The moon hit his dual-coloured eyes and made them sheen in an unnerving way, jaw and lips tensed in seriousness. The students had never seen Atsushi look so serious, so invested - even in the court case, even when he was resurrected from his own death. His fight for Zoro brought out some new kind of rage within him.

Zoro stood to the side, gazing upon the scene lazily. He’d lost his mobile (no shock, he DID have bad navigation skills) and seemed to have little interest in the fight altogether.

About ten minutes of strenuous tension later, everyone enraptured by Atsushi’s delicious tenseness, Chopper wheeled in. His chair was squeaking unattractively and he puffed. He’d clearly struggled getting through the rough terrain of the corn fields (no-one had bothered to account for this, and in all honesty it wasn’t a HUGE deal because the deer had gotten there, right?). Some stones had gotten trapped under his hooves uncomfortably.

“I thought you weren’t gonna show your rat face you rat bastard,” Atsushi snarled, words twisted with a hiss.

Everyone gasped. At-Atsushi-kun?? Using such foul words???? So OOC!!!!

Eren, who’d snuck in to watch the cage fight from the corner of the field with his newly acquired ally Yuki, fanned his face. He just couldn’t believe Atsushi! He was only so invested because he wanted to take them down of course - not because under all the lies he told himself and his peers he idolised those beautiful ex-Oxbridge students and wished he was good enough to have been in Oxbridge, side-by-side with the elites - Zoro, Sanji, Sasuke, Dazai - he’d even want to be near Sakura! Everyone!

Chopper huffed, trying to get some air. “I’M NO RAT! I AM NOT! I AM A REINDEER! I PROMISE YOU!”

Atsushi gritted his teeth in a snarl. “I WILL YEET YOU AND EAT YOU (out)!!!”

Kid Luffy shoved more bon bons into his mouth.

That was all too much for Chopper. As someone who had already been eaten once before and now treasured his final two legs, he was quite triggered by Atsushi’s exclamation.

He pushed himself forward, the wheels on his chair going round and round. They squeaked and creaked. He pushed himself forward, and within a single moment Atsushi had his thicc tiger paw out. Automatically his cat ears and tail also came out, but that was only because Zoro was in attendance.

Unfortunately what Atsushi had forgotten was that Chopper, in his wheelchair and as a four-legged mammal, was much shorter than Atsushi, and plus he was also under the influence of the devil fruit + rumble ball. This gave him an impossible strength, even though it was not visible to the naked layman’s eye. Chopper had made these balls, both of them, for this precise fight. After all, how could a disabled reindeer go against a whole ass tiger?

Atsushi, who had forgotten to look downward to where his opponent was (he was used to fighting things over the height of 3ft), did not even see Chopper’s strike! The small reindeer, as if possessed by a demonic entity, rolled all the way to his opponent, naturally gaining momentum as he got closer to the tiger-man. His eyes were blazing with fire and teeth were gritted, absolutely enraged by the feline trying to edge into his mans’ heart. How dare he!

With a pounce - Atsushi still staring at eye-level, brows crumpled as he waited for Chopper (absolutely forgetting Chopper was not a human) - Chopper yeeted himself forward, two front hooves connecting perfectly with Atsushi’s shins.

The pain was a shock to Atsushi. Kyoya, who was holding all the bets, watched on fervently. Kid Luffy was out of sweets and had moved onto his gold-wrapped candyfloss.

Everyone gasped! There was an audible CRACK -

Atsushi thought, for a mere moment, that both of his shins had snapped. Alas; this was not the case. Regardless of all of Chopper’s strength, he had not stumbled more than a few inches back, and could feel a twig underfoot. Was that where the loud noise was from?

Atsushi turned over his shoulder to look at his mans, the mans that had saved his lyfe, the green-haired moss-haired mans.

Zoro was yawning into his open fist, eyes focussed on something past Atsushi’s shoulders - the trees.

Seeing Zoro was suddenly striking. Chopper was braying at Atsushi’s feet for his attention, kicking up soil and corn stems, but Atsushi found he couldn’t even spare him an ounce of his attention. What was he doing? Why would he think that fighting Chopper would make Zoro reciprocate his feelings? It seemed rather pathetic, after all. Sebastian’s actions had taught him more than words could: of how he deserved to be treated, to be worshipped, to have his fur grromed lovingly, not to have to fight for someone’s attention. He knew he deserved affection and love - perhaps Zoro was better suited to being a crush, anyway.

Did he really miss his friends, Soma and Nekozawa, enough to fall completely off the rails and engage in a fight against Chopper, of all students?

Atsushi’s eyes wandered. He couldn’t even feel Chopper’s heavy hooves bumping on the surface of his feet. With his fast healing, it didn’t matter what the cripple did to him anyway. He’d get over it.

Just behind Zoro - Atsushi was amazed he didn’t notice sooner - was NEKO! Nekozawa! The friend Atsushi hadn’t seen since entering Knottingham - he’d gotten a girlfriend and completely abandoned Atsushi. He took a step towards Neko. Of course Soma wasn’t there, stuck on Oxbridge after forgetting to get on the bus to Knottingham. Beside Nekozawa stood a beautiful dark-haired woman - his girlfriend, Robin! Atsushi recognised her from Nekozawa’s social media posts. Nekozawa had come all this way to support Atsushi in this fight?

Atsushi felt overwhelmed. He didn’t know what had made him agree to such a cage match. The students around him seemed to have lost a lot of their interest - Chopper was seeming more and more pathetic by the moment. Not that Atsushi noticed. He had tunnel vision, being able to see only Nekozawa (or rather, Nekozawa’s hood, considering the boi’s face was entirely covered).

He took a step towards Zoro. Chopper’s brays got incessantly louder, hooves beating against the ground. Even Zoro looked towards Atsushi, though only for a brief second in the hopes that avoiding eye contact would prevent the tiger from engaging in conversation.

Little did Zoro or Chopper know, Atsushi was headed towards his true love. Nekozawa. After all, the power of friendship could surpass all. It even outdid the silly crush Atsushi had for Zoro, the man who had once (albeit accidentally) saved his life.

When Atsushi brushed past Zoro there was a clear understanding that the fight was over. The tension deflated from the circle of students. Kyoya sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose. Did Chopper win by default?

Though as Shanks’ and Hawkeye’s students this wasn’t an easy idea to accept, considering Chopper’s ‘win’ was rather pathetic, so it was unanimously decided that all the bets were returned to their owners. Shanks refused to take the Kohinoor diamond back, saying he had no use for it since his nephew Luffy had gotten tired of THAT silly toy.

Unfortunately Chopper hadn’t got the memo. His heart soared in jubilation. Now he could finally ask Zoro, for real, for real this time, to take his hoof as a suitor, and Zoro had to say yes considering Chopper had won his hand fair and square! Chopper almost couldn’t believe his luck!

Chopper fell onto his two front legs once more, reminiscent of that very morning. “I, Chopper, would like to apply to be the suitor of you, Zoro.” Chopper looked up through his eyelashes at the moss-haired sexi giant-man. “WIll you please accept me as a humble lover and love me tenderly in the cold winter nights, love me deeply in spring, passionately in summer, and of course lovingly in autumn.”

Zoro looked down at him dumbly.

Most of the students around were clamouring and chatting, readying themselves to leave the premises.



“Zoro lost his phone a while ago,” Chuuya had only come to retrieve Sanji but couldn’t help but overhear the conversation. Truth be told, he and Sanji had found Zoro’s phone that afternoon but thought it would be amusing to see Zoro go without it. Particularly considering the events of that evening and how most of the information was being aired on the group chat (how Yuki and Eren had learnt of them was unknown). Chuuya was unsure of how much Zoro knew of the cage fight - but as he’d gathered from that evening - the answer - was not very - much.

Sanji tossed it in the air, “Here, moss-head.” He didn’t even bother to look and see of Zoro had caught it (he had, of course) and threw his arm over Chuuya’s shoulder, steering him away before doing THAT leg thing and yeeting into the sky w his boi.

“Ah cool, thanks,” Zoro said, turning his back on Chopper and heading in the opposite direction of the university (he was geographically challenged, sue him).

Chopper was shocked by the abrupt turn of events. What was happening? Why wasn’t Zoro immediately saying ‘yes’ to his proclamation and taking his deserving side beside Chopper? He had fought for this mans! His body was too stiff to chase after him, but he opened his mouth to call for him -

He couldn’t manage more than a woeful bray.

Chopper realised he had been left alone in the corn fields, with a squeaky wheelchair he was sure was on the brink of breaking, and no boi to make up for it.

Chapter Text

Pokkle was angry. Angry with the world, as always. The god, Deus, had finally recognised Pokkle for the trickster he was, and had been yeeted out of heaven and sent to hell. But it was okay, he told himself. It was all part of his plan. His plan to be reborn. It was easy really. If they can bring that brat atsushi back, why cant he? And this time he'd come back stronger than ever.

And then, that familiar sultry voice appeared behind him.

“Goodness gracious, you really are a persistent little bug aren't you?”

Those words set his heart racing.

“You're too kind,” Pokkle spoke slowly as he turned around, dramatically like the bitch he was, “Sebastian.”

The butler stood there, lips pursed to match the frown that furrowed his perfect brows, those eyes gleaming red, rivalry to even kurapikas bootiful crimson eyes. Eyes that he longed to take. To make his own. Because in the end, everything belonged to him, to Pokkle. He’d already made the infamous satan stand down but he still wanted more.

Sebastain had come for his young master, the boy Pokkle had mercilessly killed. But Sebastian couldn't find the smol boi. His tasty sole was not within reach, nor even his sights. The burden of never being able to fulfill his contract, his duty to his young lord was almost as painful as when he stubbed his toe on the cabinet when fetching Lord Goo’s tea.

He sighed at the sight before him. Pokkle’s small beady eyes filled with lust and bloodlust as they raked over Sebastian's long form. He was so pathetically desperate.

Sebastian stepped forward, his gloved thumb and four fingers prepared to enter Pokkle and rip him apart from the inside destroying his sole forever. He was slightly upset at the idea of soiling his gloves, they had been given to him by the young master after all, but it was a small price to pay to get his revenge on the man who had stolen his dinner from him.

Pokkle’s eye began to twitch as the idea of entering a battle with the demon. It would be a fight worthy of being staged in Heaven’s Arena. But this form was vulnerable. If his sole was destroyed, he might never find a way back to the living.

“I’ll kill you quickly, to put your miserable lyfe to an end as soon possible. As much as I'd enjoi ripping your guts out, or cutting your limbs off and listen to you scream for mercy, I'm in a bit of a rush,” Sebastian smiled slowly. “You see, the quicker you go, the quicker I can get back to my new master and serve him tea.”

“What kindness. Such generosity,” Pokkle huffed in admiration of the hunk that leered before him. The shadows casted behind the butler were threatening, dark and rolling with turmoil, reflecting the demon’s true feelings in contrast to his chilly and sexy demeanor. “Tell me Sebastian, do you truly want to be serving an old man tea for the rest of your days?”

“He is old, his soul will be ready to be harvested shortly. Regardless, I doubt this has anything to do with you.”

“Tell me, how is dear Oxbridge? I do miss terrorising those students. They were so stupid and impressionable! They couldn’t even believe I could be doing something wrong to them. Especially that dumb cat, Atsushi. You know when he died I suggested his fur be sold off, and ever since then his tiger form has a patchy coat? I-”

Sebastian stiffened. This was the beast that had ruined his empress’ beautiful fur? This was unforgivable. Sure, he could get over losing a meal. But hurting a beautiful, innocent, magnificent feline? Ciel’s death was hardly a drop in the ocean in comparison, in fact Sebastian had already forgotten that he was there for Ciel’s soul and he’d forgotten what Pokkle had done to his master.

Pokkle knew the words would hurt the butler. He had been watching them from heaven after all, and saw the bondage he had with the young tiger.

“It is very interesting Sebastian, you have yet to greet me properly. I took all this effort to become the king of hell and you haven’t even bowed down to me as your master. Prostrate yourself before me or I shall spank you like the naughty hell child you are.”

Sebastain hated demonic politics. He gritted his teeth and stared at the king of hell with fiery demonic eyes. Pokkle was patronising, and a demon with the age and skill level he had shouldn't have to submit to a human such as Pokkle.

But after all Pokkle was no ordinary human, some would even say the boy was SUPERhuman.

Sebastian fell on his knees at Pokkle’s feet and bowed his head.

“Welcome...master,” Sebastian breathed. “Welcome to hell. What kind of butler would I be if I wasn't one HELL of a butler?”

Chapter Text

Heine was standing in front of the class on a step ladder so his students could see him when he spoke. Even then, Dazai (at the back of the class) was struggling to see the small red-headed man. It was not a worry for him though, as he knew the man didn’t have enough knowledge to teach him anything.

Heine clapped to get the class’ attention, “I enjoyed receiving all of your electronic submissions, it is of course a rare day when the entire class manages to send them to the correct email address. I am more used to the majority of you spelling my name wrong even though I’ve been teaching you for this entire year. There were of course some submissions that were far better than others, and needless to say they made my weekend quite enjoyable. These essays make me entirely speechless, I’ve uploaded them to the intranet so everyone can read them and learn something. Some of the students here would benefit from that.” Heine’s gaze flickered to the group of Knottingham students. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and cleared his throat, trying to ignore how dumb his students were. “The rest of the submissions were absolutely unspectacularly fine, however over the course of the year I have gotten used to this standard. I’ve found it quite refreshing to read the new insights brought to us from our new students.”

He didn’t bother to notice how Eren’s pencil snapped in his grip, how Armin’s teeth were gritted, how Marco rolled his eyes at the words. He just wanted what was best for his students and they could learn a thing or two from the ex-Oxbridge students. It wasn’t his fault they were so stupid. He’d grown irate spending hours on end trying to teach these unteachable plebs. The Oxbridge students would be his saving grace, and Heine only hoped their brains rubbed off on the OG Knottingham fam.

Shin-ah sat silently in the corner, Ao the squirrel eating away at his textbook. He was disappointed in himself for his failings, unable to fight oxbridge intellectually. He hoped one day he could do better, become better, be the dragon he knew he was capable of being. :(

Yuki was in the class, this was the module he’d taken so he could spend more time with his dear friend Eren. His future diary had told him to be in this class, so of course he took it. He’d yet to choose which degree to take and had spent the past few years floating between random modules in the hopes of finding something he was good at. Of course his lover Yuno was also there, her face screwed up in anger.

Ao, the squirrel from the cage fight, jumped from Shin-ah’s desk and danced her way up to the front of the class. She leered at the oxbridge students that sat clustered to the left side of the room, the devil’s hand. She wished to devour them like she had done with Juli, but knew Shin-ah would not allow it. Zeno sat beside him, eating his snacks. He would never get any fatter due to his immortality so he could eat as much as he wanted much to Ranpo’s surprise. Ranpo regularly stole snacks from Zeno, but never offered to share any back. This made zeno happy, as he was able to share the joy of eating with a kindred spirit. Jae-ha lounged in the seat behind them, watching his younger brothers be so kawaii.

Heine had stepped off his ladder, on his tip-toes behind his desk trying to see his computer from it. Many students thought he had somehow disappeared from the class, but alas they were wrong. “Apologies dear students, I seem to have misplaced the printouts I had made. I shall go retrieve them from my office, where I assume they are. Please spend the time given to read over the exemplary student essays I have uploaded onto the university’s intranet. I am sure you will learn a lot. On another note just before i leave, Deus and i are currently in cahoots about having two separate exams at the end of the semester for the different skills levels, for the Eren group and Kyoya group. Any reference to real-life people or events is merely a coincidence, of course we have not named the lower and higher groups after anyone in this room.” Heine assumed the Knottingham students would be too stupid to figure out the ingenious code himself and Deus had come up with.

As soon as the short man left, Eren turned to the ex-Oxbridge students. He had a wormy smirk on his face, his body too lax for how angry he had been mere moments ago during Heine’s monologue.

“What?” Sanji wanted to kick the bitch.

“Well....” Eren drawled, “You might have KYOYA but we have my dear sister - uh, my GIRLFRIEND - Mikasa is also very smart. Some might say she has the strength and brains of one hundred people.”

Mikasa was not very smart or strong, though by Knottingham standards anything above mentally challenged was a gift.

Mikasa nodded, expressionless. She stared at Haruhi and perhaps it was a trick of the light but she appeared to be glaring.

Kyoka gayzed at Mikasa from the other side of the room, practically drooling. If Mikasa was worth 100 men, killing her would be equivalent to killing 100 men which she could add to her death count. She kept a record of the numbers in her notebook of death. Some might even call it a ‘Deathnote’. That was more than even her GTA kills.

“And what does Mikasa plan on doing?” Dazai decided to humour the dumb children, it would of course give them a semblance of hope. It was all Dazai could do, he could not prevent them from having very dark and dead-end futures after all. Though Dazai wanted to kill himself he considered the Knottingham students to also be worthy candidates for a double suicide as they would never do anything that would warrant living.

“We will tell Deus you are CHEaTING - yes, CHEETING - in the final exams, and you shall be yeeted from the university once and for all! And with such a reputation, even bath-water-drinking Incereal won’t want you in their horrible institution!” Eren roared.

For Eren to call Incereal a ‘horrible’ institution was of course quite the statement. Knottingham was disgraceful by Oxbridge standards - how would Incereal be in comparison?

Kunikida and Kyoya shared a look. There would be very little any of the ex-Oxbridge students could do against such an allegation. Kyoya started pondering - they had been achieving such high grades so far that if they were accused of plagiarism or the like then they would have very little rebuttal. Oh, how their brains had betrayed them so! And it would only make sense for the likes of Deus to take the side of his most treasured students and his future-diary-holder Yuki. He viewed Yuki as his successor after all, though no one could comprehend why. Why would these new students’ word be held in higher regard to those who had been attending the school for so long?

“We will also tell him that Y’ALL instigated the cage fight with the intention of it being human x human (hunter x hunter) and that WE forced it to be squirrel vs squirrel! And we shall tell him all about the fight y’all held in the fields yesterday, you shan’t be allowed to stay here after that!”

Eren’s voice was very irritating.

Zoro and Sanji stood - Chopper hopped in front of Zoro, who tripped over his smol body, and Chuuya stopped Sanji. A fight was what these snekky, cowardly boys (not bois) wanted!

Just at that moment the door opened and it took a moment for Heine to appear for he was so short everyone forgot to look under the 3ft mark. He was holding a stack of papers and a bottle of Jaeger. He wordlessly handed it to Kyoya as a gift for how beautiful his essay was (cheeks flushed, knees sweety, tonpa’s speghetti).

The class was as boring as it normally was, with none of the Oxbridge students learning anything and the Knottingham students writing furiously about all of these things they didn’t know (the amount they didn’t know was endless, after all). Kyoya poured out the Jaeger for him and the lads so they had something to do with their time. The janitor, Levi, was walking by the classroom, and witnessed this.

“Jaeger BAWMB,” he said expressionlessly, before turning his attention back to the chores he loved.

When their class ended Kyoya announced, “Well that Jaeger had whetted my appetite, i think we should head to a drinking establishment. My father owns the nearby Hog’s Head where he does all of his dirty dealings, it has a whole one star on trip advisor.”

Zoro nodded silently. Mori joined in. None of the ex-Oxbridge students had brought notebooks or school supplies with them as they knew they wouldn’t be learning anything. On the way out they dropped Heine’s sheets into a wastepaper basket, for the drivel on them was nothing of note to them.

Heine understood - the lesson was quite basic - Kyoya extended the offer of the Hog’s Head to him with a single nod, which he took.

They left the classroom into the bustle of the corridor. Posters had been pasted onto the mouldy Knottingham walls. They read:

DEAD (he is already dead, he is a vampire)
Last seen: staring at sleeping girls in the girl’s dormitory.
If you see this student, please avoid him, he is a creep. There is no reward for him as finding him is not a reward, it is a curse.
Xox Knottingham


The boyos entered the drinking establishment. The lighting was very poor and gross, the tables were covered with dust, and the glasses had clearly not been cleaned either, but it was still a step up from Knottingham. The drinks were cheap and that was all that mattered to weary students.

At once they were met by a man, the bartender. He was a strange man. They were unsure if he even was a man. Or maybe he was a beast? He stood bare-chested, his muscles rippling, twitching with anticipation. On his head was the THE hogs head- a mask, made out of old leathered skin.

“WELCOME!” he shouted, voice slightly muffled by the mask. “DRINK. GET A DRINK. MAKES YOU STRONGER! If you drink enough maybe you'll be strong enough to fight me! Inosuke Hashibira!” he laughed maniacally at that, though he hadn't told a joke. In actuality, his existence was a joke. Rumour had it he was so disgusting to look at that he was forced to wear the hog’s mask, apparently much more beautiful than the face underneath it. His insecurities had lead him to making his beautiful rippling muscles over his stomach and torso, his peks nice and thicc and juicy. Little did they know he was actually the beauty of the town. At night he would remove his pig mask and frequent the popular establishments in the town (his favourite location was the Oxbridge brothels); women and men alike would swoon over him, though that was his deadly curse! Anyone who swooned would be turned into a hog themselves, to be cursed for eternity to be a living source of bacon. As a side business Inosuke actually sold off his victims to the local farmer’s market.

The students ignored him, grabbing chairs in the corner. Heine was too short to reach the chairs himself and took a leg-up on chopper by standing on his back.

The students politely ignored him scrambling onto his chair in a way that would make their Oxbridge professors proud. Kid Luffy was nowhere in sight, abandoned somewhere on the Knottingham grounds. None of the students found this concerning as the boi always had a way of continuing to be alive.

Inosuke served the students and asked Heine for his ID (AKA proof of age) wearily. “This is clearly falsified,” the hog announced, and gave the forty-year-old teacher a glass of formula milk. “Can I offer you some food to go with your drinks? We have a wide selection of pig related food. Pork pie, bacon, bacon rashers, my personal line of bacon-flavoured crisps, pepperoni, fake vegan burgers that are made of bacon, pigs in a blanket made from a whole pig (blankets not provided), ham, ham sandwich, cheese and ham sandwich, bacon lettuce and tomato sandwich, bacon and lettuce sandwich HOLD the tomato, bacon and tomato sandwich HOLD the lettuce, fake bacon bits made from pork, sausages and chips, sausages and beans, sausages and sausages, sausages and bacon, sausages and bacon and eggs, and of course one of our house specialties bacon, sausage, pigs in blankets (hold the blanket), ham sandwich, ham ham ham bacon egg sandwich, BLT and the classic…” Inosuke looked at chopper meaningfully, “two deer’s legs as a side.”

Sanji pondered the options, “So the house special - is it good for sharing? You get…”

Inosuke needed no more prompting, “bacon, sausage, pigs in blankets (hold the blanket), ham sandwich, ham ham ham bacon egg sandwich, BLT and of course...” Inosuke looked at chopper meaningfully, “two deer’s legs as a side.”

Everyone nodded, finding the selection quite appetising. Chopper sulked in the corner, braying woefully. Inosuke took the order. He was quite proud of himself. He got good profit margins on his home-cooked bacon because he didn’t have to grow it! The hogs came to him ready for the slaughter - there was no wasted money on storage, food, or energy bills. It was quite the fruitful business model.

It was a little while into their conversation. Heine was on his third glass of formula milk, Chopper tentatively tried one of the deer’s legs but found he didn’t quite have a taste for it. The door of the bar opened but no one paid attention.

A boy (not boi) entered, a hood over his head, a cloak covering his shoulders. He sat down on one of the corner tables.

“I can’t deal with this situation any more. The school is disgusting which is making my skin lose its signature radiance, the students are, and i hate to use this word, stupid, Oxbridge has faced the defeat of the century through losing that squirrel fight, it is much more embarrassing than losing the Triwizard Tournamnet would have been,” Tamaki said passionately. “My daughter deserves a far better establishment than this hovel!”

Haruhi nodded as she sipped her lemonade. She wanted to go back to oxbridge purely for their high quality sushi. The fancy fish. Knottingham didn't even serve sushi in their cafeteria, only raw fish! And regardless, the commoner’s coffee here was so subpar she was sure it was made for rats.

The other students nodded in approval.

“The teaching is so subpar compared to what we are used to. I can feel my brain cells dying out in this disgusting school,” Kyoya complained. Heine nodded in agreement, sipping his formula milk contentedly.

“They don’t even have nap pods!” said Zoro. Everything else he could put up with, but not having suitable places to nap was a crime against humanity. He refused to stay in an environment where he couldn’t even sleep without people waking him up by constantly tripping over him. He wasn’t some LOG, JeEZ!

“Gee wizz, I h8 this school,” Mori snapped.

Honey’s eyes welled with tears, “We can’t even fight them! All of these cowards are too weak to stand against us in a honourable duel! These kinds of filthy moves wouldn’t be allowed in Oxbridge!”

Heine nodded again, he understood their pain. Inosuke came to fill his glass of formula milk when he saw it had emptied.

There was a sudden CRASH noise from the corner of the bar! The ex-Oxbridge students and Heine were too busy becoming inebriated to notice it. Inosuke stared over at the hooded figure in the corner - he had just smashed a glass to the floor (Inosuke noted that the person was probably too weak to crack it in his own grip). He was clearly listening in to the conversation the raucous group were having - but for what reason?

Who was this mongrel, this worm, this maggot, Inosuke wondered, discreetly trying to get a glimpse under the hood. He rubbed down some glasses with bacon grease to make them clean - they had run out of the Bleach they normally used for cleaning because one customer (an orange haired man called Ichigo) had drank it all and this was the only sufficient substitute.

The peeping tom, the EAVESDROPPER, was - he was Knottingham’s Triwizard Tournament champion! What was his name - YUKI - the one who had Deus’ future diary! Ah. But what was he doing here, in the Hog’s Head? Inosuke knew most of the Knottingham students were too scared to enter his fine establishment, which was fine by him because his customers were more upper-class than the disgusting students the university homed. Of course THESE knottingham students - the ones accompanied by the small red-headed child - were clearly quite strong, and Inosuke couldn’t help but admire them for that. He blushed underneath his mask, wondering what it would be like to fight them.

He wouldn’t turn them into hogs. But this cloak-covered wimp who thought it was acceptable to listen in on others’ conversations?

Inosuke hoped he would have the chance to trick him into becoming a hog, a no good pig just like himself.

Chapter Text

Luckily for the students, it was prom season.

After the terrible Yule Ball last year where a lot of students didn’t have dates (for some reason in Oxbridge there was a shortage of female students, which no-one could explain as they all seemed to die suddenly, see Nanami (and no-one wanted to go with Sakura, not even Sanji)), none of the ex-Oxbridge students were very excited to have to participate in another dance. The other women in Oxbridge had no interest in the male students, for obvious reasons.

The pairings were as such:

Sanji and Chuuya (no homo) - leaning against the wall drinking wine and doing their favourite hobby, people-watching..
Atsushi and Sebastian, the latter had been called by Atsushi after the ‘cage-fight’ and Sebastian had come at the promise of his tiger form; Atsushi’s fur glimmered in the light of the magically floating overhead candles, white-and-black striped fur thick and lush.
Nekozawa and Robin were perhaps the most talked about couple, considering how Robin just seemed so out of Neko’s league. Little did the layman know how beautiful Nekozawa was under his hood.
Dazai and Tamaki had gone ‘as friends’ - Tamaki was still confused about his sexuality after the bodyswitch-and-kiss moment. Dazai didn’t care.
Kyoka had planned to leave a note in her beau’s locker, but then realised that universities ordinarily didn’t have them. She instead broke into her bois dorm room and left the letter under his pillow while he was asleep. She was quite shocked when Kyoya rejected her, and felt offended when she realised her mans was pointedly avoiding her.
Of course, Mori and Honey.
Eren and Mikasa attended the event together. Sanji turned to Chuuya when he saw the pair enter. “He was so desperate to get a date he asked his sister!” The french man laughed ruefully. “Jeez, I hate desperate men going creepily out of their way for girls. This should be illegal.”
Yuno entered, and most were shocked to see her sans-Yuki…
Soma and Victor, who had heard of the prom in the group chat, sent a cute selfie. They were both clearly on ice!!! ‘Have fun...we sure will ;)’ Victor had captioned it. Fukazawa hoped the Ofsted inspectors wouldn’t pick up on the current student x teacher relationship, not that there was any Oxbridge left for their reputation to be ruined.
Heine was with an exceedingly tall man called Hagrid. Hagrid was on strict orders not to disclose that he was Heine’s son. Thankfully they looked nothing alike.
Kunikida had a lot of attention on him. For one, no-one expected him to have a date whatsoever. After being so aloof about relationships thus far, it was quite bizarre to see him enter with the centaur Firenze. The centaur had helpfully covered his nipples with tassels so as not to break the nudity violations, and he’d even worn some slippers to prevent his hooves from making cracks in the cheap cardboard flooring. Needless to say no one could stop looking - the centaur was exceeeedinglyyyy spicy, muscles wiry and bunched, legs thicc and strong. “Maybe it’s his peculiar tastes that prevented him from getting a date thus far,” Kyoya noted dryly. He’d decided to join Sanji and Chuuya for a drink at the bystander’s wall.

There were a number of students going stag, of course. Chopper was staring longingly at Zoro, kicking up his front legs and whinnying. Zoro too was going stag, only because he didn’t even realise there was a prom. He’d put away one of his three swords as he usually did for formal occasions, but sorely regretted it when he noticed Eren grinding against his sister.

The janitor, Levi, had been called in to clean up what was assumed to be a puddle of apple juice on the ground. Marco had already changed his trousers, no one would suspect him of wetting himself. He’d promised not to do it again after the orientation last week. Levi soon recognised Marco’s tell-tale puddle; he’d had to clean his piss up far too many times. Laundry was the worst. Marco liked his white trousers, and it was pretty hard to get piss stains out of those.

Hak had asked his cousin, Yona, to come with him to the ball, but had stood her up last minute. After all he was the Lightning Beast, no one would be good enough to stand by his side. Not even his cousin who shared his prestigious blood. Hak usually got off to pictures of himself, he was the only one fabulous enough to get himself into a state of arousal.

Inosuke stood in the corner. He went the whole hog- he had a table stacked with pig products, all that came from his personal pig farm. Of course he wore the whole hog too. He had his hog fursuit on, his chiseled chest covered. It was uncomfortable for him, but it was worth it to promote his steadily growing business.

The party was in full swing. Tamaki had been looking for the rest of his Host Club squad. They’d been struggling to find a good place to be able to carry out Host Club duties, and as the King himself, he refused to let his subjects (all the students - male or female or other) have to go any longer without the delights of the fabulous hosts. He soon spotted whom he assumed to be Hikaru and Kauru standing by the buffet table eating what looked like frogs but made out of something like chocolate? (or was it just really muddy frogs?) that Tamaki had never seen before. They both had sticks in their hands and strange clothes similar to Nekozawa’s. Silly bois, always so playful. It was a good idea for future Host role-playing though.

“Hikaru, Kaoru, did you two find a room or hall or something for us to run the Club in. This is a matter of urgency. NOTHING is more important right now.” It was ironic he said this before the dramatic event that was about to happen at this ball.

“Oh actually our names are-” one of the red-head twins began to say.

“I know, I know, you’re pretending to be Neko. So kawaii. But again we have to focus on the Club at this moment. Haruhi is still in training and if we don’t go back to our duties ASAP the child will forget everything we have senpai’d her in.” He took a deep breath “that would be unacceptable. Please tell me there’s somewhere in this tiny, disgusting establishment that is worthy of being our club room.”

“I don’t know who you are but there is one room that can be used for anything you like. We used it a while back for this thing called Dumbledore’s Army which is a whole OTHER story. Every university in the UK has one of them, except Incereal. It’s called the Room of Requirement. It’s on the third floor, fifth corridor. You just have to walk past it three times and think of what you want to be there. Here’s a map to help you find it if you want, we’ve already memorised it so don’t really need it anymore.”

The map was titled ‘Marauders Map’. Tamaki didn't know what a Marauder was but it sounded sirius.

For some reason, it had little dots with labels of all the students’ names on it. Next to the one that said Tamaki, it had two dots labelled ‘Fred’ and ‘George’. Tamaki didn’t see how this map could be useful in any way, but he was too polite to bin it in front of Hikaru and Kaoru so he faked a smile and thanked them, crumpling it in his fist as he walked away.

Some time had passed before anything else of note happened. Narrator-san was not surprised Tamaki had gotten Fred/George mixed up with Hikaru/Kauro, for reasons to be disclosed very soon….

Yuki made his dramatic entrance to the dance. It wasn’t dramatic enough; over the loud music and shitty lighting no-one even noticed he was there. In his hands he held a rifle, the long shaft glinting in the disco lights. Brooke was playing the loud music distracting Yuki’s victims so Yuki went up to the skeleton. He had to stand on his tip toes and knock a few times on the DJ set to get noticed. The skeleton removed one of his headphones and nodded when Yuki asked him politely to turn it off.

“Sure, lil’ buddy,” Brooke said. He’d seen the shaft in Yuki’s grip but knew the little virgin weeb wouldn’t be able to kill anyone that mattered. After all, all of the Knottingham students were so stupid that statistics showed they were unable to be potty trained until the age of ten.

Yuki decided he would kill the skeleton first...if only he knew how. Could skeletons even be killed if they were already dead????? (Yuki thought about the real questions).

The ‘grand’ hall was suddenly silent. Students looked around in confusion, head spinning. Mutters filled the hall. The centaur was looking around in confusion and his gaze landed directly on Yuki - he knew his prediction would come true, the boy was a gun-slinger. Alas if he killed Atsushi, would that make him the Tiger King? He was clearly gay after all, what with his smol and frail stature.

It didn’t take long for everyone to notice the shaft Yuki had in his hand. He tucked it away and brandished the rael tool he planned to use to dominate them. Everyone was shocked. Too scared to approach him.

Now was the time for Yuki’s revenge. At this point he wasn't sure what he was getting revenge for, but he just knew that it had to happen. The Oxbridge students had walked into his university and besmirched it. And for that, they had to pay. They were rivals after all.

From the silence came a single voice. “Yuki! Yuki, what are you… what are you doing?” It was none other than Clay Jenson. Clay wasn't sure if this was real or a hallucination, but what he did know was that he needed to act.

“Get out of here, Clay. Go home.” Yuki had always liked Clay. Sure, he always seemed confused, dazed, as if he didnt know where he was most of the time. And he always spoke to a ‘Hannah’ although no woman existed. But still, he was nice. Nice was the only word that could be used to describe him.

“No. No, I… Don't... Don't do this, Yuki,” Clay begged.

“You need to leave right now.”

“Yuki, please, listen to me. You don't wanna do this. I... I know you don't.” Clay was desperate to reason with him. He didn't want to see any of his friends die, not like this. There were so many people here that he held dear, like Fred and George, who he was quite sure were human like him. The rest were names he didn't know, they were too foreign, but he recognised them by their brightly coloured hair. He knew he would miss them if they died.

“You don't fucking know anything about me.” Yuki wasn't crying. It was an unusual sight to see. For the first time in his life he seemed confident, as if he was ready for what was about to happen. As if it was the only that made sense to him.

“No. No, I do. I do know because I hurt, too.” Clay had gotten a papercut just the other day.

“I'm pissed off,” Yuki growled back, like an animal trapped a cage. His eyes flickered between the crowd of students, searching their gazes. From Hak to Kyoya to Kunikida. He realised suddenly he was looking for that one man, the one he was always searching for. Shanks. But he wasn't here. No one could save him now.

“I didn't realize how bad it was for you. And I'm sorry that I didn't.” Clay’s face was scrunched up, as if he was trying to emit emotion. But underneath it was still the same calm unflinching face that he always wore, like a mask. He wondered if he peeled back that waxy flesh what kind of monster would be revealed underneath. Someone who resembled Pokkle? Yuki thought Clay would be a terrible actor, would never hire him, not even for an Amazon Prime production. Yuki himself has been headspotted by Mr Netflix who wanted him to be the protagonist in some story about Future and Diaries.

“Get out of my fucking way,” Yuki shouted, lifting the gun to point at Clay’s chest, hoping it was enough to get him to get out his fucking way.

“Yuki, please. Don't do it.” Clay’s stance didn't change.

“I have to,” Yuki insisted.

“No, you don't have to. You can turn around. You can go home,” Clay continued to try to reason with him. But he was struggling, he couldn't think of a good enough reason NOT to kill them all. Heaven knows that they would all love for Sakura or Mikasa to be shot cleanly in the head, so that they could be rid of their uselessness. He’d been one of Hannah’s 13 reasons, he knew how good death felt. Or maybe his acting was just that bad.

[police siren wailing]

“Everybody knows already.” Yuki started to crack.

“The only people that know are people who know you, and they wanna help you,” Clay replied earnestly.

“Bullshit.” Yuki looked back at the empty glances of the crowd surrounding him. They all looked bored, as if they couldn't wait for this show to be over.

“No, look. Yuki, they know you're hurting, we all are. And I don't know what to do about it, either. Okay? I tried hurting other people. I tried hurting you, and it didn't fucking help, man. It doesn't do any good. Listen to me. It doesn't!” Clay cried.

[sirens approaching]

“Yuki, listen. You don't get out of this alive. And I don't want you to die. I-I don't want you to die. If you think this is the way, if you really think this'll change a goddamn thing and not just be another fucking tragedy that adults cry about for a week and then forget, if you really think this is gonna be different, then do what you gotta do. Come on, Yuki. Please?” Clay’s speech finally started to reach Yuki. The ice that had built up around his heart started to melt. His hatred for the ex-Obridge students that had festered away underneath was eaten away by the maggots that grew and were nourished by Clay’s gentle and inspiring words.

“There's nothing else I can do.” Yuki felt like he might cry. It was too late to turn back now, right?

“There is. We'll figure it out. Okay? I swear.” With that, Clay reached out, taking the gun out of Yuki’s hands.

Chapter Text

At that, Clay sprinted from the room, hoping to cover up the crime of the attempted shooting. He didn't want the police to find out. The last time the police were supposed to get involved no-one was charged for the crime of Hannah killing herself - surely justice would be Hannah going to prison??? The police were useless, unable to do a simple resurrection. Sure everyone had seen Yuki, but he hoped everyone would stay quiet about it. Yuki didn't deserve to go to prison. It didn't matter that he had tried to kill a bunch of people. What did matter was that Yuki was the VICTIM here. If only no one had hurt his feelings, then none of this would have happened. The only people at fault here are the ex-Oxbridge students. Why couldn't all the Oxbridge students be nice like Yuki? Then they wouldn't have had to be exterminated.

Of course an intelligent being would recognise this to be a pile of bullshit, but Clay was not, indeed, very intelligent. In actuality he wasn’t even Knottingham standard, but he’d gotten in on extenuating circumstances due to his hallucination disorder.

He was yet to figure out that it was indeed a disorder, and his therapist Ayato had resigned from his position due to his idiocy. He was the best therapist but alas he was too good for Clay.

Clay called his father, Caitlyn Jenner.

“Daddy, I need your lawyer. I know you committed that manslaughter that time and no one did anything to you.”

“What did you do,” Caitlin said. “I’m in the middle of writing a book about Kris Jenner, after our divorce my sources of income have really dried up. I had assumed that being a female Kar-Jenner would help but no one wants me, which is why I decided to come and reacquaint myself with you, my son who I abandoned for the Kardashians. Regardless, goodbye.”

Meanwhile, the students were very confused.

“Yuki, homicide? Really?” Sanji yawned. “At least kill someone, jeez. We all have.”

Yuki cried, tears were present. That ridiculous human, Clay Jenner!!!!!!!!!!

Clay Jenner decided to swallow the gun to cover up the evidence. If he choked and died it would be no loss. And he could see Hannah Baker again in the afterlife! Yosano helped to shove the gun down. She enjoyed seeing the shaft bulge through his throat. She smirked, seeing him choke and struggle, a drip of spittle running down his chin, his eyes rolled back to his head in pleasure as he moaned.

Yuno yeeted onto Sanji, she was one of the very few women that Sanji didn’t find attractive, Sanji yeeted her and thus the yeet wars began. Kunikida summoned a pair of scissors using his notebook and handed it to his centaur mans, who galloped on over and cut off all of Yuno’s hair.

“Yuno, you know you look like a boy now???” Yuki said angeely. He too would have to fight, he pulled out his future diary. But the Great Luffini had somehow switched the phone for a block of styrofoam without Yuki noticing. If only he had had some way to foresee this!!!!!! A way of telling the future!!!

Meanwhile other students did other things. The ginger twins yeeted themselves towards the other ginger twins, Hikaru yeeting out the pair of scissors that Kunikida had kindly bestowed onto the scene and grabbed the man who looked remarkably like himself and his brother, jumping onto his back and pulling his head back with a hand fisted into his hair.

“George!” Either Fred or Kauro shouted, it was impossible to say which, they both looked so similar and had the same voice and of course the same uniform on.

Kaoru would not allow this, he would not allow someone to speak so loudly to Hikaru. Did the disgusting little ginger fellow have no idea how much shouting affected his brother??? It was selfish, Kaoru wished Yuki had yeeted that bullet into the man’s chest. In an instant he rushed forward and tackled the ginger man to the ground as Hikaru wrestled with George’s head, trying to get a good grasp of it while holding the scissors. His legs were wrapped around his torso from behind and Feorge tried to buck him off, but Hikaru’s grip was unrelenting. He realised that the only way to still the mans was slight axphyxiation, just enough to put him asleep, not enough to cause permanent damage. Permanent damage wouldn’t matter anyway, Hikaru had seen in this bois stars that the death of the other ginger boi would cause enough of that damage. He would rather let him fall apart entirely over that, there was no need to start his unravelling prematurely.

Kaoru looked over, having successfully pinned Fred to the ground with the heels of his hands crushing his shoulders into the cardboard flooring, and spotted Hikaru. The boi’s hands were bloody, pair of heavy metal scissors between his teeth, and from the distance Kaurou saw a lump of flesh in his brother’s hand.

George was cowered on the floor, fetal position, cupping the side of his head and wailing.

Later, when Hikaru and Kaoru returned to Oxbridge, they would hand the Great Luffini George’s mangled ear, preserved perfectly in a jar. Luffini would test the ear and tell the bois with excited jubilation that whoever’s ear it was, they were brothers. A strong, sickly feeling of jealousy would stop the boyos from ever confronting this information. Thankfully, the renowned therapist Ayato would be there to help them sort through their confusing emotions: jealousy, guilt; emotions heavily impacted when Fred finally passed on to Pokkle’s lair.

Edward crept from the shadows from the corner of the dance floor. He had loomed there, ominously, watching the young girls. Like a moth to the flame.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted the fabled dragons.

Zeno stood watching the scene unfold, unfazed. This was not the most ferocious battle he had seen in the 2000 years (give or take) of his life, and he reckoned he would see a fair few more in the future. Therefore he was munching away on Inosukes pig products, enjoiing the show.

Inosuke himself was squealing with pleasure and lept in the fray, tackling Naruto who was standing in the corner trying to look cool like Sasuke. He was even wearing sunglasses (INDOORS!). Not even Sasuke was doing that.

Edward stalked toward his prey, licking his lips. His movements were soft and graceful, like a swan. But the look in his eyes were that of a predator. A hawk. Or even a lion. A tiger maybe?

Atsushi the tiger himself was trying to protect his boyo sebastian, who was on his 300th glass of red wine. He was tired of being surrounded by these pathetic humans. His mind was preoccupied by the new demon king.

Edward pranced forwards, hoping to grab the young supple flesh of the girl, Yona. Just as he was about to strike, Zeno lept in front, using his body as a shield. Edward was very upset about this. VERY upset. All he wanted were young girls. He wanted to watch them sleep. That is all. He would only touch them if they got married. Marriage was very important to him. Only once they had exchanged vows would he make love to these young girls, which he did often. He was currently married to 13 raisins. He kept them in his basement where he lived at home with his vampire parents. Of course these were not real raisins, but anime pillows. They were the only thing that brought joy to his life.

Edward was v upset that someone had gotten in the way of him watching a young girl, it was immoral, barbaric, he was being stripped of a basic human right. He was ofc a vampire so this did not count which was sad reacc. Edward wanted to be the only immortal, how dare someone be able to exceed the limits of age so the women they watched were over 2000 yrs younger than them. Edward was v jealous of Zeno for being 2000 years old he wanted to be the oldest, it would surely make his pervertedness more satisfying. Of this he was sure, so he would have to murder the immortal Zeno. If only he wasn’t immoral this would be much easier but Edward had learnt a trick from this boi he once watched bc he thought he was a girl, the bois name was gon and his friendo (no homo, absolutely ZERO homos) Killua did this THING.

He thrust his hand (that's right, his thumb and all four fingers) through his chest. The sharpened nails pierced through the flesh, sliding between the ribcage. His fingers rapped around the flesh, the heart, the soul of the very being, and gripped firmly. The smell of blood reached Edward's nose, that sweet copper tang, and pushed him into a frenzy. With full force he ripped the heart clean out, holding it aloft above his head. The blood dripped down his arm and onto his face, like rain on a hot summer's day. Edward stuck his long, wet tongue out, catching the drops and savouring their sweet taste. It was childish he knew, but he just couldn't resist.

At first Zeno had been confident, but the moment his heart left his body he made a small noise, like he had come to realisation. This was actually a big deal. Not only had Edward taken his heart, but he had taken with his very life force. His creamy essence.

Zeno dropped to his knees, and looked up at the man that penetrated him so violently.

Edward sneered, then kicked him in the gut. The force was so forceful that Zeno's stomach ripped only. From only one kick! Zeno moaned in pain, and started clutching at his organs, trying to stop them from spilling out. But he knew it was in vain, for he could feel himself growing weaker. The blood continued to spill out. His body isn't healing. He took one last breath, then fell limp to the floor. Dead. Finally. It was safe to say that Zeno was actually quite happy about the whole ordeal, for it meant now he could finally rest. He had been released from his duty.

“Goddamn, he killed Zeno with one kick!” Shin-ah yelled. No one had ever heard him yell before so this was a big deal. Unfortunately no one was around to hear it. Jaeha had already moved the princess Yona to a safe space (the back of his car) and they were making out passionately.

Zoro took advantage of the ensuing chaos to make his way across to his target. He had been planning this for a while now. He did not usually think things through or make ‘plans’. It was a waste of time, and really, he couldn’t normally manage to think of plans either. Normally, he just acted on his killer instincts. But this was different. This was personal. When he thought of this person, his blood boiled. Hak. The bloody Lightning Beast. His eyes met with Haks. Hak looked at him readily, whispering ‘Lightning Beast! Lightning Beast! Lightning Beast!’ all the while, with a disgusting, yet handsome, smirk on his face. For his genius plan, he had already asked the Great Luffini to summon his third sword for him (left behind for the sake of formality). Luffini had done this with a simple wave of his hands, not needing any of that Summoning Charm bs those noobs at Hogwarts were taught. Zoro slowly strolled over, as if in a trance, his hands gripping his three swords. ‘Three Sword Style to the face’ he thought dreamily.

Hak smiled calmly at the approaching Zoro. Unfortunately for him, he had misjudged this encounter entirely. He was convinced Zoro had finally accepted him as the Greatest Warrior. Clearly Zoro wanted to train with him. Perhaps with some experience and guidance, even an amteur like Zoro could become a rival worthy of the Lightning Beast. And then perhaps with some extra encouragement Zoro would even accept him as his lover (though Hak daren’t think this far ahead).

He opened his arms in welcome, which was not very smart to do given what happened next. In one move, too swift for the human eye to envision, Zoro had slashed Hak across the chest with one of his swords. The second sword slashed him across the face. The third sword was used to stab him right through the neck.

‘Now,’ said Zoro, breathing heavily, eyes glinting with bloodlust, body shaking with the exhilaration of murder, ‘now there will be no one but I with this elite, sultry, sexy voice.”

From afar, Atsushi had spotted Zoro as he made his way across the hall to Hak, and he had seen the brutal mutilation of Hak as well. He couldn’t help but feel a bit upset about this meaningless death. After all, Hak had had the same voice as Zoro. It only made sense for him to be sad about the loss of such a manly, gorgeous, voice.

Levi sighed. He hated cleaning up after riots. Regardless, his eyes met Zoro’s. “Thanks… buddy,” he said slowly, meaningfully. He had been waiting for the day when a strong enough warrior would come and teach Hak a lesson, Yona’s cousin had gotten too pretentious.

Zoro sheathed his swords. He looked at the janitor, eyes welling with tears. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to Zoro. He nodded silently, gripping the handle of one of his swords and trying to calm his beating heart. He had never had anyone support him so, NEVER. People only saw him as a piece of meat (by people he of course meant all of the semi-people animal people).

Kenji started screaming. He had been on his phone, checking up on the family Whatsapp chat (they had been struggling to maintain the farm after Pokkle caused that famine by swapping all the seeds out for pebbles right before harvest), and had only just looked up. Of course he was worried for his family and their business and their livelihood, though Kenji had seen in one of his last astronomy lessons at Oxbridge that two men, handcuffed together by a red string of fate, would somehow bring the farm back to its former glory.

He had been so engrossed in his family’s worries that he didn’t notice the riot. Of course he didn't want to kill anyone besides Kyoka, Kaneky, Mikasa, Marco, and a couple of other people. He had never imagined to see an immortal killed!!!


“Yo better belieb it,” Edward smirked, “Do you have any sexy sisters I can watch, I wont have sex with them until I marri them, pinky promise.”

Shin-ah was upset because no one heard him shout but everyone heard Kenji which was quite upsetting. Everyone turned and looked at Kenji, whose straw hat was lopsided (also upsetting).


“I am ONE KIK MAN, I SHALL YEET YOU!” Edward's appearance had changed dramatically in the past minute. By killing Zeno and stealing his life force, he had finally tapped into that hidden potential that stayed buried deep inside of him. Just like how he wanted to be buried deep into the wet moist ground, if you catch my drift. As a consequence, his muscles were now bulging through his clothes, his sexy khaki shorts ripped open, his round buttocks bouncing with every movement, straining to be free from the constricting fabric. If he were to have sex with anyone now he would surely kill them, no doubt about it, which is of course v upsetting. His hair had fallen out in clumps and layed scattered around him. In response to his new power he grabbed Nekozawa’s cape and tied it around his neck. It was slightly too tight and restricted his breathing, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy that.

Everyone gasped in shock, they had never seen Nekozawa’s face and the boi was v v v v v v v beautiful. He started screaming, the light attacking his paper-thin skin. One Kick Man was coming to kill him too, if only Soma was here to protect him, he was his Agni after all. Neko fell to his knees and scrambled for Edward’s abandoned hair, picking up the clumps and sticking them onto his face with his saliva, trying his best to cover his skin and stop it from burning up.

“Gee, I wish I had a shirt to give you or something man, but…” Ace motioned to his bare chest, expression troubled.

The teachers were all watching the dance/riot via video chat. Fukazawa nodded in pride, he was so proud of Ace. Ranpo was holding up his phone showing the teachers the best angle, just in time to see Dazai throw Tamaki’s whole body at Mikasa. He was trying to turn Tamaki straight again and simultaneously prevent incest, a just cause if there ever was one. Mikasa ducked athletically, she was worth 100 soldiers after all. If she couldn't duck this much then what kind of soldier would she be?

“If only we had Atsushi’s fur coat,” Dazai said blandly while watching Nekozawa struggle, even though he was wearing three layers including a calf-length trench coat.

“No,” Levi said in response to Sanji and Edward, making everyone forget about Neko’s predicament.

Everyone turned to Levi, who was already mopping up the ear with a reddened mop. It was only smearing the blood everywhere but in due time Marco would piss on the floor again and that’s probs be enough liquid to get the stains out. Cardboard was notorious for being difficult to clean liquids from.

“Yes captain,” Zoro saluted the janitor. “I shall obey your every command.”

Chopper cowered in jealousy, staring at the bandana-wearing mongrel.

Edward, spooked by the authority this young man had over the masses, decided to flee. He gripped the edge of his cloak, hissed like a horse, and sprinted from the dance. It was very graceful, as one would expect from an all powerful and now immortal vampire. What will he use his new found power for? What will come of Edward, the perverted immortal vampire? And why was Firenze licking his juicy lips while watching Edward run away? Read on to find out what happens next,,,

Chapter Text

The riot was enough of a reason for the ex-Oxbridge students to return home. They had, after all, assaulted many, many people. Including each other (Tamaki had been yeeted into a very strong boi, after all).

The bus had been waiting for them the whole time, for the whole time they had been in Knottingham. Brooke had been waiting in the bus ever since the students had arrived at Knottingham. Thankfully he was a skeleton and therefore did not require any form of nourishment. The students had been afraid he would run away (they had, after all, seen in the stars that they would be returning to their place of origin). Brooke had been allowed outside once, to DJ for the prom. He had eaten more bacon than he had bones, was delicious.

As Tamaki said, “when in Roma, do as the Romans do” and that's what they did. They were in a filthy university and so they acted as filthy commoner university students. Knottingham was lucky to have them. Their contribution to the field of astrology was one unmatched by any other Knottingham student (by generations of Knottingham students).

What happened in Knottingham stayed in Knottingham after all. Hikaru and Kauro would forget that they finally... hem hem... Zoro would forget he killed a(nother) man. Sanji and Chuuya would forget the time they forgot to say ‘no homo’ after an interesting night out (after all, it was just one kiss on the arsehole). All would be forgotten, all of their sins, all of their transgressions. Most importantly of all, they would try to forget the people they had met along the way.

Except for one.

“You’ve been there for us this whole time,” said Zoro gratefully.

“You were the one person that made this shithole bearable,” agreed Sanji, trying to stop the word ‘shithole’ from taking him back to THAT night...with Chuuya...

“If I HAD to come to a filthy school where the commoners drink formula milk and instant coffee, I’m glad it was this one - just because of you,” Tamaki wiped away a tear of emotion. Dazai squeezed his hand and smiled warmly.

“You were the best drinking partner, friend, wingman, and most importantly BRO to all of us at this school. Thank you for keeping us sane. Thank you for making us feel at home. Thank you for all you’ve done,” Sasuke said. It was the first time he had said so much. It was a strange feeling to be this vulnerable with his emotions. He had to take a few breaths so he wouldn’t tear up. That would ruin his too cool for school image ofc.

“You’re one of us bro,” Naruto winked and extended a hand, “Please come with us.”

All of the Oxbridge students nodded and smiled.

Heine’s eyes watered. He opened his mouth but couldn’t speak, he was far too emotional. This had been his dream since he was just a little boy, back when he’d been less knowledgeable of the ways of the world and yet the same height, still drinking formula milk.

“Cool,” said a monotonous voice behind.

Heine turned around in shock to discover the janitor, Levi, standing behind him carrying a mop that he’d just been cleaning Marco’s piss with.

“I’ll come. I mean why not,” said Levi, sounding bored. He picked up the piss drenched mop and threw it back at Marco. It caught him right in the face, his piss trickling down from his face to his whole body. The fear of a mop coming his way had caused him to accidentally wet himself again as well. With Levi going who would clean up after him? He cried and pissed as he pondered this.

Levi walked over to the Oxbridge lot while they cheered and high-fived and whistled for him, throwing their arms around him, asking for his number so they could add him to the group chat. Heine watched from afar, his heart sinking like a stone, his face crumpling in agony.

All of the students passed by Brooke to enter the bus. They had even left jackets and snacks for the ride back, though Brooke had stolen Chopper’s nintendo switch (he didn’t even have the hooves to play it, duh). It didn’t class as stealing when it was taken from Chopper anyway, the pathetic rodent was being selfish by feeding into the capitalist concept of ownership.

Thankfully kid Luffy was also present, otherwise he would have been left behind in the disgusting Knottingham and been raised by rats. He had enjoyed eating the rats, raw (how he ate most things). How the child would turn out, if raised by rats! Perhaps he would devolve, forget how to piss into an actual toilet. They had the power to do such things, they after all homed the infamous Yuki.

The students slumped into their seats. Chopper was stuck by the radiator, where Ranpo had (a very long time ago) accidentally dropped some snacks - the corner always smelled like vomit and rotten eggs. Nekozawa was sitting beside his girlfriend, Robin, who had decided to pursue a degree at Oxbridge. Of course Dazai and Tamaki were sitting side-by-side.

As the last students filed into the bus, Sanji and Zoro flanked the doors.

They looked over the bus. “Sorry Robin, you’re gonna have to go,” Sanji said through a puff of smoke. “There’s not enough space on the bus for you too.” He was correct, after all; there were only around twenty empty seats, the students were already being squeezed into the claustrophobic space as is.

Nekozawa nodded. He didn’t know what else he could do. “He’s right,” he said. “Goodbye, please don't assassinate any of us on your way out.” After all, Nekozawa was quite excited to have Levi sit beside him, even if it was just because there was no space elsewhere on the bus.

Outside the bus stood what remained of the Knottingham astrology class to wave them off. There weren't many left now. The bodies of the deceased students had been scooped up and tossed in the trash where they belonged, but the emotional funeral was not enough to settle the raging feelings the class members felt

Jaeha and Shin-ah stood in stony silence. Ao sat on Shin-ah’s shoulder, a malicious glint in her eye. She was happy to see them go. Never again will they question her strength in battle. She was quite sure it was her battle spirit that scared them off.

Shin-ah wasn't sure what to feel. In the short time the Oxbridge students had been at the school he had lost two precious comrades, no, friends, his family. He would dearly miss Hak and Zeno.

Eren smirked. Even though his sister/waifu Mikasa had mysteriously disappeared during the dance and was assumed dead, it was no big loss, after all his plan to rid the school of the oxbridge students was a success. He scared them off. The Titans were undefeated. Sure, he hadn't actually done anything apart from some mild bullying. It certainly wasn't his fault that Yuki tried to shoot up the school. He DEFINITELY did not encourage yuki, nor did he supply him with the gun.

The bus finally pulled away. Heine felt a pull on his heartstrings, and suddenly his little legs started running before he even noticed.

“Please! Take me with you! Don't leave me here with THEM! I can't take another year of it, no not even another second! They’re so stupid, so, so stupid!” he screamed, but no one heard, the bus was already too far away, and poor poor little commoner Heine was left behind. A single tear slid down his face as he turned round to face the Knottingham students, who of course heard everything (though they hardly counted as people).

“I didn't have much respect for you before this professor,” Jaeha said coldly, “but that was truly pathetic. You clearly have no understanding of beauty.” He flipped his green ponytail as he twirled round to leave, the remnants of Knottingham students followed.

Heine only sighed. He should have known that Oxbridge was too good for him. Only those with excellent social standing and those from filthy rich families were lucky enough to spend their time at the elite university Oxbridge University. It was famously known as the playground for the super rich and beautiful. But that doesn't mean he should ever give up. No. Giving up was for the weak. And Heine was anything but weak. He’ll show them. He’ll show all of them. After all, what kind of professor would he be if he couldn't teach at Oxbridge? Not a very good one is the obvious answer. He'd make a deal with the devil before giving up...

Chapter Text

Of course, if the smart and brave ex-Oxbrdge students were to return to their illustrious school, somehow the Ofsted inspectors would have to be appeased.

Shanks looked up towards the skyline. It was a few hours before the students would eventually board the school bus and return to university.

The man had been avoiding his life calling, his vocation. It had been a long time since he had looked at the stars, towards the sky. Yuki had scarred him for a long time. But for some reason he had the urge to look towards the pastel-blue sky; he couldn’t help himself.

Zoro: a murderer; Hikaru and Kauru: now guilty of gross bodily harm; Tamaki: turned into a weapon. Jeez, what had the student body become, how far had they fallen...what had Knottingham done to them???

Shanks should have looked at the sky sooner. He should have located Kakashi weeks ago, pulled him out of his erotic novels, and forced him to use his sharigan eye to see this future. Shanks had made himself responsible for these young minds by signing up to be their professor, and for what! To turn around, to neglect them, to leave them when they needed him the most??? No, he would not stand by this! He simply could not!

As an after thought, he wondered where his young nephew (kid Luffy) had disappeared to but had looked at the sky enough for one day and assumed the boy was resurrecting more dead people. They’d sent him to the basement to bring back Mr Tesla.

Shanks spawned into the headmasters office. Fukazawa was strewn over his Armani futon, robes in disarray, hair shimmering over the arm rest. His nails had been bitten to a stub. The headmaster had clearly been struggling with the loss of his school, and the inaction had taken its toll on him. His pallor was pasty and greying, his lips were dry and chapped. The only thing left intact was his beautiful, silky locks. The struggle for his university had aged Fukazawa in a way he did not consider possible.

“Mr President,” Shanks said, “You must negotiate for the Ofsted inspectors to meet us again.”

Fukazawa’s bleary gaze fell on Shanks before he looked away.


Usually the Mr President sequence would boost Fukazawa into action, but clearly this problem was one too large for Obama to solve. Who had more authority in the UK aside for the President?? Who would be strong enough to get Fukazawa up???

Pokkle - no, not that disgraced ex-Oxbridge student. He was dead, anyway… ;)

One kick man, perhaps??? One Kick Man would definitely have the strength to rouse Fukazawa from his sad boi state, he would end sad boi hour! The mere presence of such a strong human… just one glimpse of that glorious bum bouncing with each kick would surely put a smile on even the straightest man's face.

But where was One Kick Man, where could they find him, where would he go? Alas, if only Shanks had kept Kyoka back, he KNEW One Kick man had a penchant for watching underage girls sleep! Dammit, dammit, dammit. Were there even any other girls at the university beside her? There was Sakura, but not even One Kick Man would want to watch her sleep. Her forehead was too grotesquely large. Besides, she had gone to Knottingham too.

Shanks paced Fukazawa’s office. What was the one thing that made Fukazawa overjoyed, if not the President of the entire United Kingdom Mr Obama??

There was a knock on the door, it swung open to reveal a boi whose eyes were squeezed shut and whose cap was holding back locks of unruly hair. “You called, Professor?” Ranpo said with a smirk, popping a smartie between his succulent lips. The boi had lost his glasses long ago and now relentlessly used his brain, which was of course dangerous. So dangerous, in fact, that Ranpo was only allowed to use it in dire situations. Before his brain had been put into lockdown there was a hugggeee shortage of cases for the police left to solve and they did not appreciate being put out of work. The shortages were of course a huge problem as some police officers, mostly the higher-ups, would hoard cases for themselves so they would have a job. The disparity between the rich and poor officers did not bode well for the class divisions.

Alas, the only option was to ban Ranpo from ever using his brain unless the situation was exceedingly dire, and of course this was a situation that required his huge mass of brain to solve. Who else would be able to get Fukazawa off his Armani futon?? The task was IMPOSSIBLE, not even OBAMA could do it!

Upon seeing his sun, the one light in his life, Fukazawa felt a warmth spread through his sole. It was more powerful than Mr Obama himself. To see his son smile and to provide the very best for him was his one and only duty left in life. He had to bring back the school, if only for his sake. If he couldn't protect his son what kind of a father would he be? After all, he was one HELL of a father.

“Call the inspectors now. I have something to say to them,” Fukazawa’s voice was steady and clear. If it wasn’t for his unironed robes or how pale his skin was, one could say he had been having at least one whole meal a day. Losing his university, his legacy, would certainly break the man.

“Hewwo” Kaname answered. “My love? Are you there?”

Fukazawa’s personal office phone was the one that Victor had been using to call Kaname for phone sex. Fukazawa never noticed, even though Victor never cleaned up after. He thought the sticky substance of his desk was from that time Ranpo spilled his fizzy drinks.

“This is the President.”

“Of the United Kingdom?” Kaname gasped. Well that was okay, he would be okay with sexting the president of the United Kingdom.

“Yes that's right. Come to the Oxbridge office. I have something to share with you and your coworker.”

This sounded very sexi to the man on the receiving end of the phone - after all what kind of monk would he be if he couldn’t spend hours pleasuring the President of the great empire, United Kingdom? He salivated at the thought.

Hours later, Kaname pulled up in his limo. The sun was low in a late-afternoon warmth. The camera crew for his tv show (Keeping up with Kaname) followed, elbowing past Fuhrer Bradley. They had been told that they were to meet the president of the United Kingdom, Mr President Obama, and were very excited.

Kakashi was visible from the window of the principal’s office, his sharingan eye swirling. He yawned and put down his manuscript for his latest erotica novel. They were always more fun to read when the characters and their actions were more...tangible.

His power was very helpful at times. He looked out the window and squinted.

This would be a great way for him to promote his erotica novella series to a wide public - and for free, no less!

The film crew had stopped on the Oxbridge grounds near the fountains where Nanami’s corpse lay. She was more skeletal than flesh by that point, and it was hard to determine her identity from whatever was left of her.

“Something to keep them busy,” Fukazawa took a sip of poorly-concealed sake from a glass tumbler, “while the big bois talk.”

Kaneme gulped. Fuhrer Bradley stood behind him. They had hardly gotten through the door before the intimidating aura of those in the room halted them.

Every single muscle in Kaname’s body had seized. He could hear his pulse in his skull; the silken material of his shirt was shifting under the impact of his crazy heartbeat. The fear lined his oesophagus, sweltered in his stomach. His palms sweeted. Before him stood seven thicc men and one woman, all equal parts sexi and thicc. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to piss his pants. But he was wearing cashmere Gucci and it was one of only two in the world (only the best for Mr President, who he had been manipulated (yes, MANIPULATED!) into believing he was meeting).

Even Fuhrer Bradley was struggling to keep his cool. His knees were weak, palms sweety. He reached for his mustache but alas, it had shed off his face out of pure fear. Tomoe watched it run under Fukazawa’s desk. The Fuhrer had come to propose some new ideas for Ofsted to Mr President of the United Kingdom, and the binder was heavy between his thumb and forefinger. He tried to take breaths to relax himself but his whole body remained… stiff ;)

They had not anticipated anyone bar the Mr President, it would only make sense for him to take office in the prestigious university Oxbridge university. Kaname had been working for a long time on his hit TV show Keeping up with Kaname, and had been expecting to receive a presidential award imminently. And to receive it in the halls of the prestigious university oxbridge university??

So yes the Ofsted boyos had not anticipated anyone bar the President and his guard to be in the prestigious university, Oxbridge University, but were instead met with the faces of the universally-acclaimed professors (even the aliens had tried to enlist them, but the tutors had stayed for the Oxbridge brothels: from their own market research they knew they were the BEST brothels in all the lands). Tomoe, the cat-man; Hawkeye, the famous swordsperson; Shanks, Emperor of the Sea who was also a certified mental case; the principal Fukazawa, who had so much money that he set up his own bank and was the only one who had an account in it; Kakashi, who had made his money through pornography...and some other professors.

It took Kaneme a long time to recognise his boyo flanking Kakashi. His hair was silver and shiny, and he was wearing...the OTHER Gucci cashmere, the other from the two created in the whole wide world????

“V-V-Victor??” Kaneme gasped. It couldn’t be him, absolutely not, this boi didn't look like he enjoyed being choked whatsoever!!! This was like the time when Kaneme tried to watch Kakashi’s porno film One Piece of Ass and he didn’t realise the ENTIRE thing was about sexi pirates...JEEZ.

Victor didn’t reply to the stuttering monk, crossing his arms over his chest (biceps chunky) and standing by his school and his coworkers (Soma was Victor knew that was only his secret to tell...WINKY face…)

“Who are these men, where is the President?” the Fuhrer drawled. He was trying to keep his cool but there was no mistaking the sweety sheen lining his face and brow. Particularly since the cloth under his underarms had darkened with damp sweet. He was, of course, looking at the new Oxbridge tutors - the world-renowned ones, the ones who ABSOLUTELY could not be affiliated with mere mortals - with lowly UNIVERSITY PROFESSORS…

“My name is Mustang,” the man, Mustang, from FMA, (yes THAT man) nodded at the Fuhrer.

No further explanation was needed.

“I’m Hawkeye,” her voice was tepid and monotonous, a glare to her gaze that Kaneme found impossible to look away from. She was wearing a matching uniform to Mustang from FMA, though everyone knew who she was already (a war hero, jeez, and super uber strong).

“And I am Ayato.”

Kaneme couldn’t hold back his gasp. The terrorist - ‘freedom fighter’ - Ayato??? With the nickname ‘The Tokyo Ghoul’???? There were wanted posters around for him throughout Panem! How did he escape?? Kaneme tried to take a step back but fell into Fuhrer Bradley and jumped. He was only holding his urine in by a slither of bodily control by that point. All of these strong, thicc men and women - Kaneme couldn’t take it!!!!

“Retract your statement that says Fukazawa is unfit as headmaster and reinstate the prestigious university, Oxbridge University back into your league tables,” Shanks said calmly, his hand at the hilt of his sword, the power of his Haki slowly rising.

The Fuhrer gulped. “Of course, sirs. Sorry for the confusion!! There was clearly a mistake, I see no reason for the university to be closed! A body???” the Fuhrer scribbled something out from a sheet from his briefcase, which he always carried around lest he be called for an emergency investigation. His movements were comically wide and frantic. “There was never a body viewed on the prestigious grounds of oxbridge university!!! I apologise wholeheartedly for this mistake, please forgive me! Ofsted are willing to reimburse you for this mistake, what would make this up to you???” He stared at Fukazawa, his eye practically begging for Fukazawa to say something so he had an out.

“Nothing...for now,” Fukazawa drawled. “However there will be a time when we call upon you for a favour...and you will cum.”

The Fuhrer was weak at the knees.

“P-P-Pwease sirs,” Kaneme shivered in fear, “Pwease - allow me to have a position in this prestigious university oxbridge university!”

“Eh, sure,” Fukazawa said. “Choking is banned. But you appear to be taller than a toddler, so you’re in.

“But what will he teach? Does he even have a degree?” the Fuhrer asked, privately excited at the prospect of losing his partner. Perhaps they would put him to work in the oxbridge brothels, needless to say he had the experience for such a role.

“Well Fuhrer, we won't let him teach of course, we can't trust him around children, but that makes him a perfect fit for priest in the old chapel (the shed out in the woods). We all know that priests like young boys so we’ll try to keep an eye on him and make sure Luffy stays away of course.”

“But I'm not a priest, I'm a monk!” Kaname objected

“I don't care,” Fukuzawa replied indifferently.

“Anything for you sir,” Kaname gasped, throwing his prayer beads over his shoulder.

“We are currently waiting for the avatar to return, he has been frozen in ice with his bison for ages. I’m sure he would appreciate having a fellow monk to keep him company. Legend has it that the Avatar has the power to unite the four top universities in harmony and save the world.”

Kaname wasn’t sure when it would be appropriate to announce that HE was the avatar, but he was too busy thinking guuci gucci gucci to say anything.


Hawkeye walked into the unisex bathroom where he encountered Hawkeye.

Hawkeye looked into Hawkeye’s eyes and nodded in acknowledgement.

Hawkeye nodded back at Hawkeye, smiling a little.

Hawkeye and Hawkeye spent their time in companionable silence, not saying one word. They didn’t have to. The tension simmered between them.

Hawkeye had noticed it in Fukazawa’s office - she had noticed the lingering looks the tall swordsman gave her, the way his brow rose and he rolled his lip between his teeth.

When Hawkeye moved to leave, Hawkeye turned back around to look at Hawkeye again, a pause holding them both still as Hawkeye looked into Hawkeye’s eyes.

His eyes skimmed down the length of her body. As always she was wearing tight, form-fitting trousers… and they looked GOOD. Hawkeye had an irresistible womanly figure, and she knew it. Her eyes raked over his 8-pack, those hard, muscular abs, the toned arms and legs, and the... other part that looked good too. She liked what she saw, and so did he.

“Nice to meet you,” said Hawkeye.

“Nice to meet YOU,” said Hawkeye.

They had the sexiest of times...many a time. There in that bathroom, on the bathroom counter, on the floor, against the wall, in every stall, pressed up against the sink and again against the mirrors.

Hawkeye and Hwkeye gasped for breath.

“I learnt that last one in the brothels,” Hawkeye said. “I’m glad I did.”

Hawkeye smirked, satisfied. Finally. After all those years of disappointing lovers, Hawkeye had finally met their match. Themself.

Chapter Text

This was the moment they had all been waiting for.

The DANCE COMPETITION! Now that the university was BACK, it was deemed appropriate that this was the best way to celebrate. And what a celebration it was. The entire school was in attendance, drinks all around.

Fukazawa raised his bottle of sake. “To new janitors!” he yelled. Everyone (aliens included) cheered. Levi nodded solemnly. He’d already disposed of the corpse on the grounds and was happy that he hadn’t been instructed to clean up piss yet. Everyone at this university seemed to have good bladder control, which was refreshing.

“To new therapists!” Shanks clapped Ayato on the back, smiling widely. Ayato’s drink spilled over his hand and he tipped it down and chugged it to the cheers of many.

“And the Alchemy tutor!”

Mustang nodded in appreciation, he couldn’t wait to teach the art of RAEL Alchemy to his new students.

“And of course,” the swordsman Hawkeye sent a short look look at Hawkeye, “The botany tutor, Hawkeye herself!”

Kid Luffy cheered loudly, jumping up and down. Shanks looked down at him in amusement. Luffy had pestered Hawkeye before until she revealed some of the modules she was teaching, INCLUDING magical properties of plants and she promised to teach Luffy some basic witchcraft!!

“HAWKEYE HAWKEYE HAWKEYE!” He screamed, squeezing his way between people’s legs until he reached her, clutching the bottom of her coat. “BOTANNNYYYYY!!” He was bouncing in excitement and hugged around her legs, “I can’t wait, I can’t wait, I can’t wait!” Witchcraft was the one topic he had struggled to find a tutor for, and now he had the perfect one!!!

The students and teachers alike were devastated when they learnt the dancing event had been postponed due to the lockdown of the university. But now they had the opportunity to shine. The teachers had been quarantined in their respective offices, practicing their moves. The students had rehearsed daily, pushing themselves everyday. Their sweet, blood and tears had gone into this.

But they were all overshadowed by one act in particular.

Victor and Soma, dancing, but on ICE!!!

Soma had taken to dancing on ice quite well, it helped he had experience from his time in a boy band, managed by his dear dead brother Ciel before he was destroyed by the gargoyle Pokkle.

They drifted across the ice in perfect harmony. They knew each other's bodies well. Victor slid his hand down the curve of Soma’s back. The sensual flair of the dance just made it that much harder to look away from the pair. All of the students that had been at Knottingham had been very, very excited to watch the pair dance - they had already won the Olympics while the other students were at Knottingham, and Shanks had announced to them on the down-low that Victor would be taking back his old position as ice skating tutor. Truthfully, for a group of selfish and apathetic university students, they couldn’t be more proud to see the pair happy and clearly enamoured with each other. Victor was a whole new man, with a new lease on life, and a confidence he had never shown before.

Ayato watched on. Fukazawa had already told him that his first client would be Victor, who had a lot of trauma to work through. It was obvious that Ayato had been hired for the sole purpose of helping the young man rediscover himself. Clearly the man had a strong support system. The next few months - even years - would be difficult for Victor, wholly emotionally draining.

The clapping began at the back of the stands. It was Leorio. He stood, his hands aggressively slapping together as tears streaked his red face. The emotion of the dance had been obvious. It was Eros. It reminded Leorio of the only time he and his husband Kurapika made love, after he had won the first task in the Triwizard Tournament. The passion. The heat. The drama. The sweet.

Soon the hole stadium was filled with cheers, whooping, and clapping.

There wasn't a single dry eye in the building.

Soma and Victor embraced, their lips meeting in a chaste kiss. Victor’s eyes shone when he looked down at his boi, at his messy hair, at the flyaways framing his reddened cheeks. He spent too long staring at Soma in adoration, an awkwardly long time. Victor had to pull himself away from Soma to bow, their hands clasped together.

Being back at Oxbridge was the best feeling ever. The students all raised their drinks in a cheer and the dance competition continued.

The students had finally returned to their prestigious university, Oxbridge University. The students were ready to resume their education.

Chapter Text

“Come in.” Ayato had his back to the door, adjusting the books on his shelf.

Fukazawa entered the new therapist’s office. He’d gotten a private office near the medical wing, and thankfully there were such few students at the prestigious university Oxbridge university that there were many open-door hours when students were free to visit Ayato without prior appointment.

“You’ve done a good job with decorating,” Fukazawa appraised the room. It was very plainly decorated, clearly the man did not have a knack for interior design. He probably wasn’t gay enough, something he’d have to disclose to Victor to prevent any unwanted advances.

Ayato tried not to remind Fukazawa he’d been working at the university for a month by this point, but let it slide.

“Have Victor and Shanks been seeing you?” Fukazawa asked.

“Patient-client confidentiality,” Ayato said tonelessly. “But yes.”

“I’m glad to hear it. I had assumed the sectioning would be enough to get Shanks over the trauma of helping Yuki in the Triwizard Tournament, but…”

“Well clearly you know nothing about trauma. People can’t just GET OVER things like that, even people like Shanks.”

“I actually came here with an agenda,” Fukazawa finally revealed. “There’s a student, Chopper, and I have reason to believe he would benefit from talking to you.”

“Chopper?” Ayato raised a brow, crossing his arms. “I’ve been seeing the reindeer twice a week for the past month.”

Chapter Text

The doors of the medical wing slammed open, both with enough force to hit the walls behind and crack them. They crumbled into little pieces, half the room collapsing in.

Shanks stormed in, “HOW DARE YOU MISS CLASS,” sweat dripped off his brow, “I PREPARED A WHOLE LESSON AND YOU MISSED IT, YOU FOOL!!!” Shanks slammed a stack of papers onto the occupied hospital bed, not bothering about the patient. Luckily he managed to throw the thicc stack right onto the patient’s wound.

Shanks left as quickly as he had entered, and Kyoya was quick to take his place. Behind him stood the entirety of the Astrology class, their brows furrowed in anger. He pushed his glasses up his nose. “That was very disrespectful of you Chopper, Shanks took the time to make a whole entire lesson plan for us. Not only that, but it’s your fault that the walls of this prestigious university Oxbridge University have crumbled into smithereens, I hope you know that this building has existed since the conception of man and you just ruined it.”

“Like you ruin everything.” Nekozawa tried his hardest not to look at Chopper, he was very upset by seeing Shanks in such a state.

Fukazawa had been sitting at the foot of Chopper’s bed the entire time, not that the students had noticed in their rage. He decided to remain the impartial witness as he understood their plight, planning lessons was no mean feat.

The other students - even the English and Ice Skating students - were quick to follow. They had heard the crumpling of the university walls and it beckoned them like a moth to the fiery, deadly flame…


Zoro tried to wipe at his tears as subtly as possible, he had never felt so wounded in all his lyfe.

Chuuya started singing a mourning song from Titanic.

“THIS IS NOT MY IDEAL! NOT TODAY SATAN!” Kunikida then took the opportunity to jump out of the window - pushing it open cast a sharp yellowed light into the medical wing, melting much of the equipment. Unplugged heart monitors started to screech, defibrillators vibrated in their casings. Even some of the bed frames melted, thankfully the mattresses were left otherwise when Florence did her hospital inspection she would be less than pleased. Nekozawa screamed, he had never felt such warm sun. It was almost like in The Scorch Trials (part of The Maze Runner series ofc) when things are scorchy.

Kunikida didn’t even have to jump out of the window - even being caressed by the yellowed beams cooked his legs right through and they withered as the students watched on, the space from Kunikida’s ankle to knee disappearing to the smell of cooking flesh. Kunikida screamed in absolute agony, continuing to repeat, “THIS IS - THIS IS NOT MY IDEAL!” Even his tears only caused him pain, boiling as soon as they yeeted out of his eyes.

“Why,” Tamaki cried into his palms, too scared to watch, “Chopper, why would - why would you miss class?” Kunikida’s screams made Tamaki’s words barely heard, but all of the students were thinking along the same lines. All of this pain was easily preventable. Soma audibly sobbed into Atsushi’s fur.

Fukazawa clapped his hands once. At once the students quietened, their attention turned to him. Soma struggled to silence his sob-hiccups. Fukazawa had such an overwhelming presence, one that everyone respected. No one could think of a greater man than Fukazawa.

The only student who really couldn’t hold back his voice was Kunikida, his screams even more painful now that the students couldn’t relieve their emotions through tears. The man’s voice had become hoarse, strangled, absolutely tortured. Finally, finally, he managed to use the stubs of his burnt arms to throw himself out of the medical wing windows. Fortunately for him, he was only on the tenth floor.

“As I'm sure you can all see, Chopper has lost a limb. Yes, ANOTHER one.” Fukazawa said pointedly. “That’s three in total.”

The students all thought back to Kunikida, who happened to lose all of his limbs to the Scorch Trials, and they all also thought Chopper deserved it for not turning up to class.

Atsushi gasped in tiger form, though it sounded more like a reverse hiss. “Omg thats so sad! But don't worry Chopper, we’ll help you. We all will. Nothing is more important than this.”

“We will support you. We have a lot of disabled people here anyway, take Shanks for example he only has one arm and Atsushi had no fur for a while and Zoro is very geographically challenged.”

Though the last two didn’t class as a disability all of the students understood Sakura’s point and nodded in support.

“We’ve filed a full police report for theft as i’m sure you’ll all be interested to learn, Chopper’s leg was stolen.”

Everyone gasped at Fukazawa’s announcement, a THIEF was amongst them??

Kyoya looked to Fukazawa in confusion, though he tried to keep his expression as neutral as possible. Surely it would be more logical to file for assault or grievous bodily harm?

“If we do not manage to retrieve Choppy-chan’s leg before the 24 hour limit is up, then alas this gaping wound will have to be filled, we might even have to use the juices of another man. Who knows how much blood Chopper has lost,” Kaname had been praying for Chopper at the other side of the medical wing, due to multiple restraining orders he tried his best to keep his distance from the students as much as possible.

Yosano spawned into the room, a fleshy, damaged, burnt lump of oozing flesh in her arms. She was hugging it as one might a very large sack of potatoes, clearly struggling to keep her grip on it. The sleeves of her shirt were only smeared with blood, much of the flesh cauterized by the scorching heat from outside. Yosana dumped the meat on one of the remaining, unburnt mattresses, and rolled her sleeves up whilst simultaneously unbuttoning her shirt. She peeled it from her body, parts of it burnt into her flesh and stuck to her with blood, revealing her plump breasts.

“Yosano-kun, Yosano-kun,” Honey sung, hopping over to her, “Is that a prime rib eye steak, Yosano-kun? Is it for our picnic later?”

“Let’s just say he’s not exactly what one would call a snacc,” Yosano drew the curtains around the mattress closed, concealing what was to happen.

“Sorry, what did you say earlier Kaname? I didn’t hear you.” Sanji had been too busy staring after Yosano, as had many of the other students (such as Nekozawa, who missed his knottingham girlfriend very much). His nose started gushing fountains of blood looking at Yosano’s perky nipples so he had to sit with his head held back, tissues held against it. He had almost died by nosebleed too many times for him to take this blood loss lightly. Due to his very rare blood type, there were just not enough donors for him to be able to indulge in his perversions as much as he would like.

“I think we’re on a time crunch? For something?” Chuuya looked at Atsushi in affirmation, “Sorry, I was too busy being angry at Chopper for missing class.”

Atsushi nodded seriously, concern for Chopper clear in his sunset eyes. “Yes, we have 24 hours to find the person responsible for this theft, locate the leg and stitch it back onto chopper-san’s leg. Dazai-san, where do you think we should start first?”

Dazai was surprised to be addressed by the young man, especially with an honorific when they were the same age. He blinked in confusion, then decided not to question it. “Clearly we only need to ask Chopper who took his leg. It’s so extremely obvious even Tamaki could figure that out. Hey Chopper, was it a beautiful young lady that took it? One that looked sad, the hope of the sweet release of death clear in her eyes? Was she looking for a handsome man she could commit suicide with? Did she ask for me?” Dazai asked eagerly, the smile on his face at deep contrast with the deep sadness he felt within.

“I for one would like to start at the therapist’s office,” Naruto said, “I think I need to work through these feelings of hatred i have towards chopper for missing class otherwise i might commit a genocide.”

Sasuke, who had often dreamed of genocides akin to that of the Uchiha clan, nodded in understanding. He had already been to see the therapist once to work through his feelings of wanting to destroy the Hidden Leaf Village to avenge the death of his brother. Ayato had made him see that killing all the clans was not the most healthy way of moving on from his clan being killed.

“Though we might all benefit from therapy,” Tamaki’s fingers were trembling from where he’d yet to fully lower them past his chin, “Maybe we should try and get Chopper’s leg back? Having a limb-thief in this prestigious university oxbridge university is a threat to us all, plus...hasn’t chopper lost enough of his legs?”

“Ah yes,” Kyoya adjusted his glasses, “If women consider there to be a threat on the grounds, host club attendees may drop.”

Zoro looked over at Sanji who nodded back at him. They had both once been on a cruise with Chopper on the ship ‘The Going Merry’ (even kid Luffy had climbed aboard, saying something about finding the One Piece). When you sail the seas of the Grand line together on vacation, you learn to care for your crew-mates. If chopper needed their help now, they would provide.

“Choppy-kun, though I am sure you are struggling with the trauma of having your third limb chopped off, please chopper, try and tell us any details, anything Choppy-kun might remember about having his leg chopped off,” Atsushi said solemnly.

“I didn't see them.” Chopper brayed mournfully.

“Were they wearing a mask?” Atsushi gasped. “Then describe to us their figure. Was it a man or a woman? Fat or thin? Human or animal? Did they say anything? What did they say? What was their voice like? Did you smell them? Smells can be very useful to help solve crimes. One time, we, the Armed Detective Agency were solving a murder, and the room had a faint but noticible smell of curry. But no curry had been made in the apartment. From that we deduced that the murderer had recently eaten curry, or maybe he made curry for a living, so then-” Atsushi was cut off by Tanizaki when he elbowed him in the ribs and quietly shushed him.

Atsushi was embarrassed to realise he'd gone off on a tangent, but was also VERY annoyed at being shushed. Who was he to shush him! Sushing is so rude. Who did he think he was talking to, an animal?!?

Hikaru gasped and muttered to Kaoru, quiet enough so no one else could hear, “Do you think it was Sirius??? Sirius Black??”

Wanted posters had been pasted all around the public places such as Hogsmeade, as the prisoner of Azkaban had broken out. There was even a memo shared in the university emails warning people to watch out for a very serious man wearing black.

Kaoru muttered back to his twin, gaze darkening, “We-we better hope not...I don't know if the university would be able to survive such an attack, such an affiliation…” and somehow it would link back to Kauro and Hikaru’s new twin brothers...

“I was - I was…” Chopper brayed in pain, “I was - asleep! I didn’t see anything!”

Zoro nodded in understanding, this sounded like something he too would do.

Just at that moment Yosano drew the curtains open from around the rib eye steak. Kunikida lay on the mattress, a halo shining around him. Rubied blood reddened the blade. Unfortunately when Yosano moved away from the almost-corpse of Kunikida, having used her ability Thou Shalt Not Die to revive him by killing him first, no one had accounted for how Kunikida’s body would be naked and drawn over the mattress, the halo only making it easier to see him.

Dazai vomited. Sanji’s nose bleed stopped immediately and he ran from the room. Naruto screamed, falling onto his knees, hands over his eyes, even the Nine Tails inside him recoiled. Sasuke immediately deactivated his Sharingan- he did not need his enhanced vision for this, in fact he was all prepared to gouge out his own eyes. Kaneme shifted his prayer beads between his fingers at a very fast speed, sweat dripping off his face and blurring his vision. Sakura gayzed open-mouthed at the body akin to that of a Greek god, unable to tear her eyes away from his glorious manliness - even his mullet was intact, laying on the pillow beside his head.

No-one anticipated such a brutal attack.

“Draw the curtain!” Fukazawa ordered, voice trembling. Yosano was quick to act, dropping her machete and hiding Kunikida’s vulnerable body.

“Getting back on track, if Choppy-san didn't see the culprit then i'm not sure what we can do.” Tamaki said sadly. He had hoped he could help the young reindeer, as he loved to help people- a rich man should always strive to keep the commoners content so they don't overthrow him and take his money.

“Even so, even if it is hopeless, we should still try.” Atsushi urged them. “What kind of students would we be if we cant help a fellow student in his time of need?”

Soma nodded. “Yes I agree. Ciel always helped the commoners around him. I'm not sure why, but I know my little brother would help this reindeer. He would stop at nothing to help those in need. Such a charitable young man.”

The students were moved. They all nodded in agreement. They didn't yet know how to help, but by god were they willing.