#should die and go to hell and be dehumanized in the same way

[catgirlcurse]

Huh. turns out being being singled out, infantilized and dehumanized for being disabled for my entire childhood and abused whenever the disability makes itself clear and chastised for expressing that its affecting me while not being allowed to call it what it is or god forbid address it as a disability and treat it solely as a moral failure, a failure to be a normal human being who must be punished for struggling and hurting, and can only survive by shrinking away from anything stressful or uncomfortable, kinda fucked me up for life in too many ways to count!

[genderqueerdykes]

I've always felt more than uncomfortable hearing all this shit being thrown at men as a whole, and you've more than validated me by putting words to what I've seen. I'm not even a guy, but I've met enough good ones to know that it truly is not all men. and besides, i and anyone else with half a mind know better than to demonize an entire group. I mean, when was the last time making broad generalizations of any sort about any demographic did anything good for them, short or long term? when I hear all this talk about how men are either mindless animals or soulless villains, it always puts me off, and thats to put it mildly. I've heard and seen some people online and offline make statements to the degree of "all men should die" and I just......no. I cant agree with that. sure, some of them can and do hurt people, but the same is true for any other group. and we don't drag those groups to hell and back without correction, do we? I have nothing against the people who've been hurt, truly. what I take issue with is taking that experience and replacing the true perpetrator with every new person. it's not the person, the gender, the whatever that makes the abuser, it's the behavior. and I wish more people would understand that.

it's absolutely disgusting to see people think this kind of behavior is even remotely okay. dehumanizing someone isn't the way to go about helping them improve. teaching someone they're irredeemable doesn't hold them accountable for their bad actions.

[arathejedi394]

@junkyrdgh0st don't read this bc it contains dungeon meshi spoilers (READ DUNGEON MESHI ALREADY YOU CAN SPARE FIVE MINUTES A DAY!!!)

so like a couple weeks ago i started writing a dungeon meshi polycule fic (laios touden's adventuring party??? more like chilchuck tims's harem) and then i thought "hey i should really dive into laios's monstersona what if i gave him the ability to comprehend an eldritch beast older than time and then the ability to kill said eldritch beast all by himself when in comparison it's recommended to have like 10 damage casters with at least 5 support members for each to kill the exact same thing if you're not laios touden bc there is a guaranteed 50% casualty rate that would be fun!"

and then i wrote this scene between chilchuck and laios both working in the merchant caravan laios worked for after leaving the army/before going to the island where laios to convince chilchuck he can handle the dungeon which chilchuck thinks he can't "mostly i was killing things that take like 50 people to kill" and that freaks out chilchuck so he breaks up with him, then ends up going back to him three years later bc he's worried about what the dungeon is doing to laios, and ends up joining his party in order to put him back on leash. (no it's not just a metaphor laios is practically canonically a furry he is chilchuck's dog/puppy i haven't written a literal collar/leash scene yet but there will be at least two.)

so obviously i had to write a scene when they're both in the dungeon and they run into this thing older than time. so i did. and suddenly i realized the polycule fic i had started with the intention of having falin go missing and the remaining touden party all ending up in a pile on top of chilchuck who begrudgingly allows the cuddles, but what i really had was chilchuck realizing he's in love with a thing and dear god that thing cannot run loose in a dungeon i must put a choke chain on him and keep him on a short leash, meanwhile laios is too dangerous for his own good and needs to be kept on a choke chain. they have this really convoluted we're more than friends but also this is purely a friends with benefits situation but also i would die for you. i would willingly let things worse than death happen to me for you, and it sort of explodes bc dealing with the eldritch thing older than time gives laios super bad ptsd and chilchuck has to tell him their relationship is not just benefits in order to literally save him from his own mind, the only monster that's more dangerous than he is.

bc like,,, listen snippet under the cut. warning for dehumanizing laios. in a pitying way. bc the thing he's fighting can drive the human mind insane with one look and laios is the only person who's ever been immune. (also the thing is called a revenant i did not invent revenants they're like a common ghostie in a lot of cultures i think)

i've literally never started writing something, gotten a good chunk of the way in, and realized i had ended up writing something completely different than what i started with. it's kinda cool?? also the vibe of No Children by the Mountain goats fits really well and i like paraphrased it to match this chilaois plot, like it's chilchuck's pov thinking about laios. and it just makes so much more sense with this vibe to have it be strictly chilaois instead of chilchuck + a harem including laios, marcille, senshi, and platonically izutsumi bc they already had a dog and a cat was a perfect addition.

"I had hoped that since I found the strength to walk out, you’d stay the hell out of my way. I’d hoped that when you saw me again, years down the line, you couldn’t think of one good thing to say. for all my life, I had lied, and told everyone you were a bad dog, but i had always known i’d already sunk deep into you like a peat bog, and i am ready and willing to drown. I had hoped it would stay bright forever, but now i know the worst isn’t over, and i still don’t know what to say. my friends all say it’s darkest before the sun rises, but i’m pretty sure they’re all wrong. i know the sun doesn't reach underground, and now i know the fences we mended must have fallen down beneath their own weight. So now I hope the worst really isn’t over, I hope you blink before I do; I hope I never get sober. I hope we both hold on past the last floor, but I know it’s already too late. I know we’ll both be consumed. i am drowning. there is no sight of land, but i’m going down with you, hand in unlovable hand. and I hope you survive. I hope we both survive."

His whole Don’t get too personal with party members or wild animals rule is really biting him in the ass, because he suddenly wants to see how Laios manages to kill a Revenant all by himself for some reason, no matter how disturbing it looks to witness, regardless of how Laios had begged him not to look. He wants to see how Laios manages to move like an Eldritch beast older than time itself. He wants to see the Revenant get confused when it is suddenly faced with something that is more dangerous than it, when probably since it first crawled out of its deep dark hole in the earth, nothing had been able to match it evenly let alone best it. He wants to watch it start to feel fear for the first time in its miserable existence all because a wild thing like Laios Touden had entered its canyon. He wants to see Laios be a predator to something so much older than reality it can’t follow the laws of common sense, having never once learned them. He wants to see it because it sounds disturbing, because Laios had asked him not to look, like seeing a train about to crash and not being able to close your eyes for the sake of morbid curiosity. How will Laios explode when he and the Revenant finally collide? Those times when he gets that dark, deeply wild animal sort of look in his eyes are rare, and Chilchuck is both afraid of and attracted to them, constantly aware that he somehow holds power over a dangerous, deadly thing like Laios Touden through methods even he doesn't fully understand. Because even the wild thing in Laios Touden is willing to submit to him, happy to, and a wild thing that can kill Revenants without help shouldn’t be something that is willing to kneel before a man as small and physically weak as Chilchuck Tims.

Right now? Chilchuck realizes that Laios must be shedding his mask, completely. He’s becoming something that’s more him and nothing at all like him at the same time, and he actually wants to see what that looks like. Even when he had explicitly been asked not to look. Especially because he of all people had been asked not to look. He wants to know what Laios becomes when he’s the most himself he could ever possibly be.

How feral is the touch-starved, shunned and beaten, abandoned pup that still thinks he’s totally unlovable where it counts at the heart of Laios Touden? Truly? That was what Chilchuck had told Dandan Laios is, after all. A slightly too-feral starving dog with a bone, always afraid everything is going to be taken from him, and so unable to unlock his teeth once they have sunk into something. But how far down in Laios’s psyche does his hunger and unnatural instinct come from? How deep does that dungeon go, and what gold-eyed, forgotten, lonely beast lurks at the bottom of it, that sends even Revenants running in fear? 

What else would run in fear from a wild, unknowable, incomprehensible thing like Laios Touden? 

And why doesn't Chilchuck run in fear from him? 

If Chilchuck were there to see him take down such a dangerous, deadly beast with ease, would the animal inside of Laios that makes even a Revenant afraid recognize him still? Would it go sniffing his hand and whine for a pat on the head like Laios does when he’s (mostly) not feral, or would it turn on him, too? Would Chilchuck still not be afraid of him, once he saw what the thing at the heart of him truly is?

[adreamyouhadonetime]

Okay I'll be rebranding this blog fairly soon to be less whimsical and more grounded because damn I'm not good at whimsy but here's the thing-

I'm a trans Texan, and I recently left the state for a variety of reasons. With the latest house bill (3399, to ban gender affirming care for all ages) I've seen a lot of talk on two extremes- one where people say 'trans people you need to try and get out right now' and one (usually in direct response to the first) where people say 'No! Stay and fight!'

So I'm gonna tell you something right here and right now- if you don't live in Texas or have never lived there as a trans person, respectfully? Shut the fuck up. You don't know what you're talking about and you shouldn't be telling people how to go about facing their own attempted extermination one way or another.

I have not only lived in Texas as a trans person, I have been to a Texas *jail* as a trans person and let me fucking tell you? I'd literally rather die and go to hell than ever experience those three days of my life again. I have *never* felt so violated, disrespected, and dehumanized. I almost goddamn de-transitioned from pure trauma and I was arrested on a *trespassing charge* for ending up in the wrong backyard during a mental episode. Can you imagine if I had been arrested for something actually directly related to my identity?

Every trans person in Texas has to evaluate their own risk and ability. I'm married to an immigrant, we had to get the fuck out and we made plans and executed them with help from our support system. Not everyone has that, not everyone can just drop their lives and move somewhere else. Some people don't *want* to. And just the same, some people have literally no fucking choice but to get out even if it means living in their car on some blue state highway for a few weeks.

There's nothing you can say right now that will make this better. Telling trans Texans to flee or stay doesn't help. Telling us it probably won't pass isn't as much of a comfort as it should be. So instead, do something. Donate to LGBTQ organizations in the state, organize a demonstration, write letters, find go-fund-mes for people trying to escape and boost them if you can't donate. Offer a bed to an Internet friend if you have one and they want it. Speak out against anti-trans legislation in your own states and urge your representatives to take explicit stances on supporting trans rights. Do something, anything, for the love of fuck instead of just telling *us* what to do.

[redphienix]

It's funny seeing the current "teams" on the helldivers discussion.

You have the "completely worthless shithead" group who are the type to yell vitriol and hate whenever they get the chance and they think this is a wonderful chance. I hate these people but at least their mask off moment makes it easy to build a block list when they start screaming about how the concept of a gay or trans person is ruining the game. Same group who most often lack media literacy in the first place and make all those cringy "We couldn't be the bad guys, we're for democracy" style posts.

You have the "Fix the game" group with a wide range of understanding what's wrong- as in some truly don't, and some truly do. The varied opinions make this a fucking cacophony but that's been true of pretty much every "Fix the game" group in every game, it's a difficult thing to read through and build an understanding from.

You have the "Entitled gamers" group who just want to discredit everyone above them on this list by creating a list of assumptions and applying them to every person up there. Pretty worthless tier to be in but at least you get funny things like claiming people who solo super helldive just want the game changed because it's too hard for them. Or claiming anyone who wants the weapons to not feel like shit must be a cod, fortnite, apex etc gamer which is a neat one. Or, of course, repeating over and over how it's supposed to feel bad because we're disposable soldiers and this is a milsim "and you're too stupid to understand that", when it's not. We are that thing, that should add relevant flavor to our experience, it's not a milsim and doesn't play to those notes in the slightest, as well as not playing to the same tune as "losing is fun" style games like dwarf fortress, kenshi (kinda), PZ etc. It does have some of the flavor of that! That's why getting blown up can be funny when handled correctly!! But nope! And it's only gotten less lenience on that point as the game has adjusted to attempt and force the silly "losing is fun (but good)" moments incorrectly.

Honestly the best they've handled the disposable angle is with the wonderful visual hell gleefully shown to us every time we get to "our" ship and see the array of frozen meatbags to be sent to slaughter, the starship trooper like mega-patriotism showing how brainwashed we are thus justifying our 'waste' (both in manpower and in gratuitous weapon use), and the amount of our weapons that are clearly "too high grade and dangerous" for sane use. Then they fuck that all up and say "Oh it means we're all using playdoh guns and ragdoll infinitely since we're weak" which ironically goes too far and makes the message murky- because the critique of military spending and dehumanization worked better when we have ultra weapons and we die a lot to them- not when we're handed bb guns and our deaths are most often just annoying "Oh, unlucky, a patrol of hunters spawned under me :/"

Being a bad entry in the "losing is fun" category is a bad thing I'm sorry to say. At a certain point you're saying walking off the ledge in super mario bros is the best part and you look weird. I find this group most annoying I think. Anyone yelling "Entitled gamers" over a game blatantly being less than it was at launch and less than it's potential and defending that assertion of your fellow player being lesser by saying "It's SUPPOSED to kinda suck and you don't GET it" is so stupid. It's lore flavor already does influence how it plays in good ways- YOU don't get it lmao.

Then you have the "It's already perfect you're all just stupid, go play another game" group who, to keep it simple in alignment with their very simple "Just go play another game" catch phrase, I'm glad they are enjoying the game

...and if they simply did that instead of spending most of their time insulting anyone who wants "better" (as in that particular person's definition) I'd even respect them :) (they don't.)

At the current moment I'd assume the final group is the most happy because a lot of us who are annoyed with the direction the game took ARE playing different games.

I mean hell, I'm happy with the multiple hundreds of hours of enjoyment I got from it, and while I'm disappointed that it's in a state I find far less enjoyable and lacking in comparison to its potential- I'm not mad at the devs or game for that and I'm happy to play other stuff in the meantime / for good if nothing changes.

I AM a petty bitch who's annoyed at the discussion's low points though lmao. I ain't above that. The weirdos being toxic levels of negative are pathetic to me and the weirdos attempting to discredit any critique without offering more than a skin-deep rebuttal embarrass me.

Mostly I just think it's funny when I see random takes on steam or wherever that are like "You should just go play CoD, you clearly don't GET it" and then that person's library is the most milquetoast thing you've ever seen.

They'll say "YoU don't GET that we're disposable soldiers, you would never understand a game where you're not power tripping!" and then they've never played a single game that's actually about struggling and how fun that can be- just speaking out of their ass- it's frustrating.

[thenixkat]

on to part 3 of Judgement Day RIP Booster Gold

also apparently Overmaster is going to genocide humanity b/c the potential for humans to make metas is too dangerous to leave unchecked lest they spread into the cosmos. SO same reason that aliens tried to take over Earth in Invasion except those fuckers wanted to enslave and weaponize humans for that reason b/c apparently no other sapient in the galaxy throws metas for human centric reasons

oh ok Booster's off teh table so.. a revenant now. On the plus side that gives doctors more time to fix his body

also of course teh writers and artist probably think this looks badass and not… silly. Like Booster get your ass back on the table there's no way that you should be awake even if yer undead those doctors used the good drugs on you Dr. Light points at Fire being teh weak link on this team b/c she has no powers. But not Captain Atom who's a hot headed dingus

also rude as hell to yer nonpower heroes to dismiss them from the action just cause no powers. Booster aint got no powers it was ok for him to join in the last battle Fire thinks the UN is trying to stop the heroes from fighting b/c they're under the Overmaster's control and not just governments being governments and regular civilian have turned against the superheroes again. They are quick to do that

the UN wants to come up with a good strategy for beating the overmaster but dont inculde the superheroes who are the best weapons they've got for teh problem in on the discussion and just expecting them to obey

oh hey, Maxwell Lord working alongside teh UN already has 'League Busters' up and ready to take down his comrades

hmm its alsmot like his villain turn in Countdown to Infinite Crisis def didn't come out of no where. (Ignoring that he's been a peice of shit basiclly villain since jump) ya know what if Maxwell Lord really wanted to settle shit nonviolently and make the League play along with the League he could brainwash them to have lil fucking patience. Like, its still a shit move but less shit that making a team of fuckers to fights his friends till they stand down or cant fight anymore to keep them from doing shit

hey Dr. Light how is Captain Atom not the weakest link on this party if he doesnt want to add more firepower b/c he's a bigot?

has this neurosurgeon been able to get the undead to stop doing that b4? also The overmaster said no one is allowed to die or be born during his/their extermination plan of humanity until he/they decides that fuckers die

and Booster Gold is upset. granted he grew up in a culture that was ableist as all hell to the point of openly enslaving and dehumanizing useful disabled people so that probably has a lil to do with it

but also again this gives doctors more time to fix his body to get it in proper working order again. but writers for superheroe worlds have weird ideas about what makes a person dead like its some magical force taht once you die yer just dead until like magic or super science undeads a fucker rather than a body where the organs work properly can jsut get fucking kickstarted back to life ie why recessitation is a thing

its also the same reason why fuckers are weird abouyt deaging like? No ending the spell that keeps a fucker from aging shouldnt make them turn to dust or get really old really fast. They can just age now

The overmaster's forces attack the Justice League embassy b/c that makes… more sense than attacking the Leaguers that are defing yer rules to come fight you ok Evil Ice decides to kidnap Fire and I assume plans to keep her… wow its almost like WOnder Woman insisting that AMazing Man jr join the fighting even if he knows jack shit and doesnt know how to fight isnt proving to be a wise decision

Amazing Man can absorb people's powers. And is causing an earthquake that he's not good at managing the strength of

Ice is a redhead in this panel ok at least the bad guys have an ambushed planned for the Captain Atom's group too

what the fuck is Peacemaker wearing, like that's way uglier than his normal costume. They infected this man with the 90s Extreme

[little-box-of-autism]

My Opinion on Spider

@peachycrime asked for this, so....

Anyways, buckle up because I ain't gonna hold back, and I'm going to be as brutal as winter in Nunavut.

Let's start off with the obvious;

Spider is sixteen years old.

He is a child, and as such, should not be expected to be held to the same standards as an adult.

But more over - and I know some might disagree with me on this - Spider is a child that was neglected and thus abused because neglect is abuse, and I'm not touching on the shit with Neytiri just yet.

The clearest example of Spider's neglect is the scene where Spider is running from Hell's Gate, the first one we see him as a kid rather than a toddler or teenager. Spider is at best seven in this scene, and yet he is allowed to run into the Pandoran jungle (because from the comics and other sources, we know that while the Omatikaya is close to Hell's Gate, it isn't beside it) unattended despite the fact that the jungle is dangerous even to an adult na'vi, let alone a human child who could feasibly die just by tripping over a rock and falling in a way that could damage or dislodge his mask, which he relies on to breathe.

If Spider had fallen, if his mask had been damaged or dislodged, there was no one there to help him.

There is a wooded area near my house that is filled with trails and is generally considered pretty safe, but I still wouldn't let my seven-year cousins (who don't rely on a mask to breathe) run around in there unattended.

Already Spider's hair is beginning to mat (they are mats, not dreads) and there is no way that the adults weren't aware of it, which means they allowed it.

Now let's get onto some other things I've noticed throughout the movie (and the comics, though I'm mostly focusing on the movie.)

"Stray Cat" is what Jake refers to Spider as, and I don't know if this may just be me, and my ASD, but I find calling/comparing a child to a stray cat to be dehumanizing, and maybe it's purposeful because it's a lot easier to ignore the neglect of a "stray cat" then a child.

Spider from the moment he is captured is very aware of the fact that there will be no attempt to save him which is devastating because even with the knowledge that a rescue from Bridgehead is improbable, the clear lack of hope in Spider is very telling in how he views his worth and value.

Jake, someone who was in the military and worked for the RDA, however briefly, would be aware, at least to some degree, of what would be done to Spider in order to get information, and he does not actually express any concern for Spider's wellbeing or safety, only thinking about what Spider could possibly tell the RDA.

Despite how close the younger three Sully kids are to Spider, they never express any worry or concern for Spider openly in front of their parents. Do I think that they were worried about Spider? Yes, but I do also think they knew they couldn't express this concern in front of their parents, specifically Neytiri.

The only adult who shows any real concern for Spider during the vast majority of the movie is Quaritch despite him technically having the least reason for why he should be concerned for Spider. As Quaritch states, he isn't the same Miles Quaritch that was Spider's father, and unlike Jake, Norm, Neytiri, or Max, he didn't watch Spider grow up. His connection to Spider is minimal in comparison to other adults in Spider's life, and yet he is the one who shows Spider the most care.

Now onto the matter of Neytiri, I can understand her reasons and I can empathize with her trauma, but she is an adult who is punishing a child who has not done anything to her besides exist. We wouldn't condone this in real life and to me, trying to excuse her actions is troubling to me because of the message it sends to people that have gone through something similar. You can still empathize with Neytiri and the trauma she suffered while acknowledging that her actions towards Spider are wrong. Trauma is a reason, but it isn't an excuse and as an adult, it is on Neytiri, not Spider, to manage her trauma.

We also have to consider how her actions affect her relationships with her children, specifically Kiri and Lo'ak.

Kiri is the most obvious, she and Spider share a very close bond that is displayed both in the comics and in the movies, and Kiri has argued with Neytiri over her treatment of Spider. This obviously would put a level of strain on their mother-daughter relationship, especially when you take into account that Kiri often feels 'othered' and considers Spider to be one of the few people who not only understands her but also does not judge or think differently of her.

With Lo'ak it's more nuanced but Neytiri's constant hatred towards Spider due to him being a 'demon' very likely has an effect on Lo'ak who already clearly has issues with his 'demon' blood that sets him apart from other na'vi.

In the end (because I need to end this somewhere before it just becomes a never ending rant) Spider is a child who was neglected and abused for who his father is, and his action of saving Quaritch is completely understandable in light of the fact that Quaritch is the first adult who took care of Spider and had - in Spider's eyes - saved him from death twice now.

One last time I want to make one thing clear;

Spider said "don't hurt her."

Kiri said "don't kill him."

And I cannot shake the fact that at that moment Kiri genuinely believed that her mother was capable of killing her best friend and was pleading for Spider's life.

If that doesn't bother you deeply, then I don't think you are ready for these types of discussions.

Now I am open to discussing my opinion in a mature conversation, but I will not tolerate dramatics nor will I entertain blatant ignorance. If you cannot engage in discussions with at least some level of maturity and willingness to understand different perspectives, don't engage at all.

[merakiui]

Okay okay okay I’ve been thinking about this for a few days now here’s my list of genshin boys most likely to least likely to become a yandere and why:

-xiao. Millennia of suffering and he meets somebody who makes the pain dissipate? Hell never let go.

-diluc. People have died in his arms, he can’t risk losing another loved one... it’s not like he doesn’t have the wealth and resources to keep his beloved by his side.

-Childe. I think he’d be the most dehumanizing yandere - he treats you almost like a child (haha) as be manipulates his way into your heart. And god knows that he gets what he wants.

-albedo is obviously in the top half of this list. We’ve talked about his yandere tendacies before so I won’t relist them but jeez get this boy some therapy.

-razor. Now this sounds surprising but after years of protecting his Lupical, do you really think he’d let somebody he loves and sees as helpless wander alone? I feel hes less captor and manipulative and more of a stalker if he becomes a yandere

-venti. Freedom is his entire world, but can he let his beloved have freedom if it endangers them? One of the most manipulative ones on this list, except he has no clue that he’s doing it.

-kaeya. Maybe you’d gotten to close to one of his secrets. Maybe you’d figured out something he wanted to die. It doesn’t matter much now, all you know is that you were tried and declared guilty by the knights of favonius and were sent into a dungeon protected by the Calvery captain himself.

-zhongli. Has the yandere desires, but refuses to give in. He’s loved and lost so many times over the years and he figures he doesn’t want to take that away from his beloved.

-chongyun. I’ve gone back and forth between him and xingqiu for this one, but I feel like these last 3 are all pretty much tied for not being a yandere. However, if he met someone who could somehow null his congenital positivity than he might move up on this list...

-Xingqiu. He has a strong sense of justice and honor, the idea of manipulating, stalking or god forbid kidnapping his S/O is appalling to him.

-Bennett. Literally just tryna vibe. Devotes as much time as he can to make sure any relationship he has is healthy.

So basically:

Everybody on this list: *frothing at the mouth, thinking of ways to keep their S/Os with them*

Bennett, Chongyun, Xingqiu and to some extent Zhongli: what the fuck

Your list... Simply amazing. Now that I’m thinking about it, I’m beginning to wonder where other characters would sit on the list. Mainly Scaramouche though aha oops Anyways, please never stop sharing your thoughts!! They are so GOOD!

Xiao’s backstory and past is just perfect material to fuel his yandere desires. He’s suffered for so long and has never really experienced positive emotions, let alone love itself. The poor adeptus is always brooding on his own and here comes his darling, bright and happy and just...perfect. They’re like a glimmering star in his murky darkness and he wants to treasure them. There’s no way he’s going to let go of the feeling he gets when he’s with them, nor is he going to let them leave his side.

It makes sense that Diluc would also be at the top of that list. He’s got the making of a yandere, especially considering all of the people he’s lost in his life. Now that he’s found someone so important to him, he can’t risk losing them. It would destroy him if he found out that his darling got hurt or was even killed because he wasn’t taking enough precautions to keep them safe. He’d definitely blame himself if something like that happened.

Childe, pspspspsp!!! The power this man holds... Omg he makes for such a terrifying yandere. On the outside, he seems warm and disarming—just your normal, happy-go-lucky kind of guy. He’s not dangerous at all! No way. But under all of that falsified charm is someone who knows how to pull strings. He’s a Fatui Harbinger, so of course he has the means of getting you wrapped around his finger. It’s not all that hard when he’s got money, power, and strength. Plus, when he wants something he’s not going to stop until he acquires it; Childe lives for the thrill of chasing after you and it’ll be even more fun once he catches you. Someone should send me more thoughts about yan!Childe!!! orz orz

Albedo also qualifies as a neat yandere! Something about yanderes who are into science is just...fascinating to me. It’s also cool because Albedo’s rumored to be a homunculus, so that adds to the intrigue! Albedo has the resources to get what he wants as well. It won’t be all that difficult, and if it proves to be challenging he can just think of other solutions to pacify his darling. He is a researcher, after all, and a good researcher seeks to find the best solution to a problem.

Razor would be a feral yandere. He’s more action than words. He doesn’t put much thought into what he does because it feels more like an instinct to him. He’s just protecting his Lupical. There’s nothing wrong with that! So why are you acting so difficult? D: 

Like you said, Venti’s not aware of his manipulation and he just does it because it works. His belief that everyone deserves freedom is probably what really holds him back. He doesn’t want you to feel caged, but that feeling is practically inevitable since he’s always hounding you. Venti is a very suffocating yandere and he doesn’t even realize it.

KAEYA! KAEYA! I love the idea of Kaeya having some sort of blackmail on you—something so bad that you absolutely can’t let the world see. And so he uses that to keep you quiet. If you did stumble upon one of his secrets, he can’t possibly have you running that pretty mouth of yours. But if you do end up spilling his secret, it’s only fair that he shares yours, right? An eye for an eye, as some would say. Kaeya’s very smooth and calculative when it comes to handling blackmail. Whenever it feels like you’re trying to one-up him and possibly escape, he’ll flirtatiously remind you of the power he holds over you. Blackmail is rather compelling, is it not?

Zhongli does have the motive to be a yandere, as you pointed out, but he’s a strange case. On one hand, it makes sense that he’d want to protect his beloved at all costs, but on the other he’d probably be aware of these unhealthy tendencies. Although he probably uses the idea of a contract to keep your relationship going, even if it’s clear you don’t want anything to do with him. But if you do, that just makes it easier on him! 

NO BECAUSE I THOUGHT THE SAME FOR CHONGYUN!!! Not the yan!Chongyun piece rotting in my drafts for a month or two now ehehee I had some thoughts about Chongyun but never bothered posting it for some reason. Anyways, I do think Chongyun has potential to be a yandere! As you mentioned, his congenital positivity can become an issue and he doesn’t want that to seriously affect his daily life. So he’s probably very pleased to find someone who can nullify that positivity. It’d be similar to Xiao’s case; Xiao likes someone who can be the light in his dark world. Chongyun falls for the person who can null his congenital positivity and is someone who he gets along with. 

The only way I can see Xingqiu being a yandere is if he wants a noble, storybook romance. Okay, that sounds strange, but consider it! He’s a huge bookworm who probably doesn’t exactly experience romance aside from what he reads in his novels. Although he doesn’t dabble in the romance genre all that often, he does like the idea of being a hero and sweeping someone off of their feet. So when he meets you—another fellow bookworm or maybe the two of you are thrown into an arranged marriage—he just feels an undeniable connection. This must be some form of fate or a sixth sense. Maybe he can be the main character of his own story! You’ll just have to cooperate and you can be the valiant knight’s love interest!

Bennett’s vibes are so nice. How could he be a yandere? He’s just too sweet and pure. He’s really just here to chill and gather an adventuring team full of great friends! But if anyone has any thoughts...please share them! 

That’s it. I’m writing about Scaramouche even though he’s not on the list. Please, why do I simp so much for him? Anyways, we don’t know nearly enough about Scaramouche to determine his backstory or past. But he just oozes yandere! Most of the Harbingers are probably the same, to some extent. He’s like Childe with all of the power and resources, but whereas Childe relishes in the chase Scaramouche refuses to put up with it. It’s just way too inconvenient for him. He’d rather catch you when you least expect it and then keep you for himself.

Gosh, he’s a very determined and possessive yandere with a strict agenda; this man probably cheats in order to get you. He’ll send his underlings to do the work in his place. They’ll stalk you and report back to him and it isn’t long before he learns of your friends, certain family members you’re close to, and even where you live. It’s terrifying, but this is Scaramouche we’re talking about. For someone so short, he sure knows how to intimidate and beat fear into those below him. Good luck to the poor soul who catches his eye. 

I must thank you for making that list! It was lots of fun to consider their mindsets and behaviors as yandere. :D

[dangermousie]

CFC 169

1. Auntie Li is terrified by how terrible XQC looks - unfocused eyes that look as if he were crying, misbuttoned clothes etc. And yes, some of it is because of the progression of his illness (the lack of focus in the eyes) but a lot of it is not, it’s because he’s too distraught and he feels too much - think of him post the club, which was horrific in every way and, objectively, should have been much worse for XQC emotionally than the recent chapters - revenge rape for the express purpose of breaking him versus someone finding out about him and HY and also having to break HY’s heart. XQC pulled himself together in such a way that even tho he ended up in the hospital, nobody thought he was totally wrecked; he didn’t cry (and in fact thought he is denied such relief) and just kept moving. And I think it’s because he was still solid frozen at the time, so self-dehumanized that he could keep going with minimum fuss (except for when his body physically shut down on him hence hospital or his subconscious let out his trauma in nightmares) but now he cannot - he cannot but cry, he cannot but be so distraught he didn’t neaten himself - because he thawed, he was thawed by He Yu and it’s good and it’s healing to feel and to allow yourself to feel but also that means that one of the things you can feel is horrific pain. No wonder he’s trying to refreeze and pushing HY away and all that - allowing himself to live may be more painful in the short run (and he doesn’t allow himself to think he may have a long run.) Not sure if I am making sense, I am sleep deprived and emotionally compromised but - short version is I find it so fascinating that XQC is more wrecked by breaking up with HY than the club.

2. Aunt Li hugging XQC as he says “I want to go home” - my heart! And he really means the past, doesn’t he? The past before his parents’ death and he never can.

3. Great, now Aunt Li thinks XQC got mistreated by some dude and candidate n1 is He Yu. DREAAAD. But also Meatbun is a genius because HY did rape XQC back 100 chapters ago and he deserved punishment and revenge and opprobrium which he never got for it and Meatbun never gave it to him only to start doling it out now, after he has changed and grown and repented and after XQC himself loves him and when in the current instance HY is the wronged party and Auntie Li’s guess is both so right and so wrong at the same time (and not just because she thinks HY dumped and used XQC as opposed to...) And so he will get punished when he doesn’t deserve it because he did not get punished when he did, and this will, of course, cause maximum pain. In a way, it reminds me of Mo Ran 1.0 and 2.0 receiving karmic punishment for what Taxian Jun inflicted on Chu Wanning - everything gets repaid - the blood cross, the public humiliation, the core removal, hell even noncon (because it’s clear in the censer scene that Mo Ran does not want it, he wants to stop, but his body is not his own and he can’t), and a lot of it gets repaid with interest but it is both utterly right and utterly wrong because it is done by people not wronged by Mo Ran and/or who this iteration of Mo Ran has not wronged (they are all in splinter universe) and to a person who is so thoroughly good. (Meatbun is so good at this kind of bitter irony, kind of like supreme ruler Taxian Jun who enslaved Chu Wanning and the world as well actually being more of a slave and puppet than the least of his servants, not even being allowed the freedom of knowing he’s enslaved or of his memories or hell, even deprived of the ability to die.)

4. HY spending the night sitting on the curb by XQC’s house, looking like a kicked puppy and Auntie Lee sees and smashes vegetables on his head. You know what occurs to me? XQC has a lot of people who love him and want to protect him but HY has nobody. Nobody is ever gonna throw vegetables at XQC for wronging HY, nobody is gonna give a damn.

5. Auntie Li is saying she’s gonna drag him to the cops if he persists and HY knows she misunderstood but does not defend himself because he did do what she accuses him of, only months ago, and yesterday he stopped but what if he didn’t blah blah he has no self esteem and is so depressed and just - I don’t want him to be hurt, I take all my earlier curses of him from 100 chapters ago back. PLS! I didn’t mean it!

This chapter was as cheerful as a root canal.

[missyasf]

Game Of Hearts

| 2 |

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 7k

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Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together! 

“So...you beat a 6 of diamonds by yourself on your first try?” 

..what the fuck was your sister doing. No really. What did she think she was doing? She had this...look on her face ever since she had been formally introduced to Chishiya and you didn’t like it one bit. Akari had exchanged glances with you several times as you wanted to wilt in embarrassment while your sister continued to parade with this act.

“It was a game of Blackjack, I wasn’t familiar with the rules but after one round it was easy to pick up.” If anything this was a good stroke on his ego which he had to know was getting on your nerves. 

It was painfully obvious your sister was trying to make an effort to show some sort of attraction to him to get his attention? You weren’t sure, truthfully all you knew was that if you knew it had to be clear to Chishiya as well who as always kept that same stoic expression on his face, not the slightest interest besides potentially making you mad, “Losers were hung and cheaters were shot.” 

You scrunched your face as you watched his eyes flicker to yours briefly, a glimpse of a cheshire smirk on his lips that vanished instantly making your eyes hone into a childish glare. He knew you didn’t like this! He knew it! You just knew that he did! 

“Hey, not to come off strong or anythin’ but…” Akari scrunched her nose, “Is your sister a virgin or something? She seems like she really wants to hop on that guys dick.” 

You didn’t mean to flail at her words but they were just so jarring to hear. Virgin? Dick? Chishiya? No way in hell should those three words ever be in the same sentence. This drew his attention briefly despite not hearing what Akari had said- thank god.

“I don’t fucking know…!” You whispered harshly to her, “And it’s none of my business but…” you rubbed your neck as you sighed, “She probably is.” You relented making Akari howl laughing as you pinched the bridge of your nose, “She’s always had this thing with being insecure and feeling like she’s never enough for guys…personally I always felt the opposite.”

“You’re extremely attractive and no man is worthy of you?” Akari tilted her head as she shrugged, “I can see it.”

“No!” You replied a little flustered, tugging on a strand of hair, “I mean I feel like if she was just confident in herself she’d get laid as much as she wants…” you had decided to not continue your original words with what you had intended. Which was, Nanami always compared herself to you. Nothing made you feel worse than knowing she constantly beat herself up because of you. 

Many considered it pretty privilege. It existed, sure.

Did you experience this? More than your fair share, more than you ever wanted truthfully. To the point of feeling dehumanized in a way. Particularly in your line of work as a prostitute before all this happened. Or maybe it was before then? You can’t remember anymore. 

Regardless, you often found that while people were much nicer to you. They are always extremely insincere. Particularly men. Watching Nanami get a little closer to Chishiya made you immediately stand up as you gave her a menacing smile, “Nanami, can I talk to you for a second, alone?” 

….

“What’s the problem with it!” Nanami had that sour pout she always sported when you call her out on something that wasn’t typically considered- but she also knew- wasn’t a good idea either, “Sure he’s not a prince charming but…” She tugged on a strand of hair as she let a tiny girlish smile tug on her lips, “He’s still pretty cute, and besides we almost just died tonight! I feel like I earned it.”

Shifting away from her, you facepalmed as you sighed, you understood. You did, you all almost died and now what better way to celebrate then getting finally losing your virginity in celebration. No you couldn’t relate to that in particular but you understood. Still...couldn’t she have picked someone a little more… “I just...don’t think it’s a good idea talking to him. That’s all…! I mean seriously, look at him. He’d probably stab us in our sleep if it meant he got an extra charge on his phone.”

“What? So you’re saying I can’t talk to him?” Nanami crossed her arms as she glared at you ungratefully, as you wistfully sighed, looking out to where the other two sat, they were a good distance away where they both sat talking at the fire Akari had built.

You glanced away from her as you puffed a breath, not sure why she was getting such a sour attitude, did she seriously like this guy that much already? Because that wouldn’t do, at all, “Look I’m not saying you can’t talk to him I’m just saying...stop...whatever you’re trying to do! Chishiya is...Nami…!” You cried out in frustration as you grabbed your head, “A guy like that is only going to gaslight the fuck out of you! Take it from me, no amount of skill in bed is good enough for that! He’s trouble Nanami.” 

“Then why did you ask him to come with us?” Nanami accused you as she glared at you even more sour than before as you groaned. To be fair he did decline at first. Initially you had asked Chishiya about the beach just as a start to figure out what the guy Ryu was talking about but all of sudden Chishiya said he changed his mind and he wanted to stay with you all. Probably out of curiosity of what the Beach was. You couldn’t blame him. 

“He wanted to come with us regardless of me because of looking for the Beach!” You retaliated, why was she getting so defensive!? You just had her best interest at heart here! Whatever if she really wanted to sleep with him that much it wasn’t your business but you didn’t want to deal with her crying when he busted one and conveniently found a reason to leave again. You paused your thought as you glanced at Chishiya who was looking up at the sky.

Would he really do something like that though? Brief hesitation passed through you, you didn’t know. You didn’t know anything with him. For the first time in your life, you didn’t know. And it put you on edge. Severely. What was his intention here? A part of you doubted he’d even sleep with Nanami, just because of who he was. 

Regardless of what happened, you still weren’t sure about him. Just because you had been partnered with Chishiya, you had the distinct feeling, it would be wise to not trust him completely. Not yet at least.

Nanami groaned as she stomped her foot, “Why are you always like this Y/n! Can't you just let me do what I want? I am an adult now.”

Yes that’s right, she was an ‘adult’ now, making very adult decisions. Sighing you rubbed your forehead, deciding to just give up for now, “Yeah you are, clearly. Do whatever you want.” You didn’t have the energy after tonight to try and do this right now. And maybe Chishiya would leave on his own, he seemed pretty intended on that before you had brought up your search. 

Puffing a breath you watched as Nanami stomped away as she crossed her arms and headed back for the camp. You couldn’t believe her right now…! Out of all the guys she had to choose she wanted to choose the most lifeless guy possible…?

You knew why she was doing this, well you couldn’t know for sure but you had the sneaking suspicion it was because when you both were younger it was because guys always tended to linger around because of you. Perhaps that’s where that sense of insecurity came from…? 

Truthfully you never wanted a rivalry between you and your sister, in some ways you considered yourself her caretaker, when no one else was there for her you made sure you were. Every, single, time. You wished she’d just be a little more transparent when it came to things like this and you could work things out without so much emotional stress. Especially now that your life hangs in the balance between life and death constantly. 

Wrapping your jacket around yourself you let out a soft sigh shaking your head before turning to face the car parking building, it spiraled upwards and suddenly an idea struck you. Rather than going back to the camp you entered it, pushing into the small room of staircases where you walked up. 

Your legs ached by the time you pushed the door open to the top floor that overlooked the night sky. A smile slowly crept on your face as you inhaled the cool night air, you used to love doing this back when you were still in school. Climbing up here all by yourself to listen to some music and overlook the city lights. 

Grabbing onto the ledge that overlooked the city you frowned again looking over the wash of black, all the venues must’ve been finished tonight, where some had a game clear or game over would never be known to you. But still, just the notion made you feel nauseous, who could ever do something like this? You tried tracing your memory back but you drew a blank.

Hoping up you sat down on the ledge letting your legs swing out over the blank unknown, looking down you came to the conclusion that if you leaned just a little too far, you’d probably die from falling. Who would’ve thought that would be a kind death compared to other people here. 

Hearing a loud blast you jumped as you looked up at the sky only in horror to watch red lasers shoot from the sky all in synchronicity. Your stomach churned once more at the sight that was straight out of a horror film and within a brief second, suddenly it was gone. 

“It happened last night too.” 

You jolted once more at the cool toned voice as you grabbed your chest, “Jesus do you want me to just slip to my death!?” You chastised as you turned to Chishiya, when did he even get here? Heaving a breath you grabbed back onto the ledge as you leaned back on your hands, “...I guess we know what happens to those who don’t participate in games…” 

How horrid, really...how could this even be reality at all? Was this really some kind of simulation or...experiment? A cruel one? Your mind drifted to the Beach again where Ryu must’ve hoped you’d go with them...His girlfriend though...you weren’t sure you trusted her either to be honest. 

“...Where do you think we’ll find the Beach?” You turned to Chishiya, his hoodie covering his head as he leaned onto the railing overlooking the city that was engulfed in darkness, his eyes however cast out to the sky where those constellations from before only became more vivid. 

He snorted, “Over a body of water, clearly as the name suggests. An actual beach would be too literal otherwise a full name would’ve accompanied it. Perhaps a ship or a hotel? I’ll need a map tomorrow and we can narrow it from there.” 

Tucking your tongue into your cheek you heaved a breath, “I’ve known you less than a day but...I get the feeling I’d hate to be your rival.” It was the truth, Chishiya if anything, was not someone who was considered all bark and no bite. Something about those eyes looked so cold and ruthless. As if he genuinely held no concern or resolve for anyone but himself. You frowned as you watched him carefully, what a sad life to live if that was the case. 

You watched something akin to a smirk twist on his lips, as if he was proud to hear those words despite it insinuating some amount of fear in you. Which you’d say was partially true, not that you truly feared him but...If he was an enemy? You were simply glad he wasn’t. Especially if he was as ruthless as he appeared.

“So you don’t want me to talk to your sister?” 

Your eyes immediately shot open from their lazed state as you twisted to face where Chishiya leaned on the railing, something so annoying about those smug eyes of his as if he was just talking about the weather. Tucking your tongue into your cheek an annoyed smile appeared on your lips, “Oh, so that’s why you’re here? What did she tell you.” 

Chishiya didn’t say anything only looking at you with that cocky smirk and dark eyes as slowly your expression faded as you realized she didn’t tell him anything he just took a guess as to what happened between you both and you just confirmed, “You are very annoying you know that?” Your voice lowered a little as you leaned a little closer to him, your expression dry at the realization you fell right into his trap. 

He shrugged, but you could tell in his demeanor even when you weren’t meaning too you were still feeding that massive ego of his, “Now that you confirmed it, what’s the problem?” You weren’t scared of him in terms of confrontation. Even if you felt the internal voice in the back of your head tell you that you should be. 

“It’s nothing personal against you,” You shrugged, deciding that regardless, it would be best if you were careful with your interactions with him, “Nanami is just…” You pressed your lips together, looking out over the night sky as you spoke, “This world doesn’t deserve someone like her, and someone like you?” A lopsided smile twisted on your lips as you laughed a little, “Be honest with yourself, I shouldn’t have to even explain that.” 

“Someone like me?” Chishiya challenged much to your surprise as you looked at him, it was your turn to be amused as he waited for an answer that you didn’t want to give. Why would you? And personally, it was as you said, it was nothing against him. 

You had no problems with him, “What about someone like you?” His expression turned smug and cold as he spoke, “I get the feeling you just infantilize your sister to the point she feels suffocated, if she chooses to do something stupid it’s only to get away from you. So what does someone like me have to do with this?” His expression became all the more sinister at your face darkening, “It shouldn’t be me you should be worrying about.” He shrugged, that calico smug smile of his on his lips as he shrugged, “So by all means, explain your wording, I’d love to hear you blame shift to ignore your own problems.” 

You glared down at your shoes, infantilized? You didn’t…! Anger simmered in your veins as you took a shaky breath to calm yourself as you let out a short laugh, suddenly looking up with a strained expression as you spoke, “Alright, I was going to be nice, but since you have no social ethic I’ll tell you why. I took one look at you when we first met and all I see is someone who’s completely hollow on the inside. Someone like you?” 

You spat out as your brows furrowed, “Has no remorse or care for others and after trying to figure out why I realized it’s not out of a bad life or mistreatment of any kind. You're just that kind of person that really doesn’t care. You’re the worst kind of person Chishiya, you don’t have any reason for the way you are, and I think you know that more than anyone else. This isn’t me trying to blame shift, I’m very well aware of my own problems, this has to do with someone like you manipulating and taking advantage of anyone, in your own words, stupid enough to fall for it.” 

You shrugged, your expression dim as you had hoped maybe Chishiya would’ve intervened to counter you and dispel your argument, but the more you spoke, the more you watched his expression become more cold and the more your own words were confirmed to you, “And you know what I think?” 

You frowned a little now, somehow saddened by the fact that there was obviously some truth in your words, “I think deep down, you're envious of people like us who can at least outwardly muster the attempt to be kind to people. Where as you?” You laughed a little, “You're so empty, you can’t even fake that. Every time I look at you, I see nothing. No concern, no care, not even anger. Just, nothing.”

The silence between you both, for the first time, felt very loud. Tapping your lip you hummed, deciding to shove even more salt into the wound, a bitter aftertaste about his words previously making you speak, “You know…” You turned around as you hopped off the ledge, now looking up at Chishiya’s figure that was still outlooking the city, “I’d diagnose you as a sociopath, but well...typically they’re charismatic. So I really don’t know what you are. Other than an incredibly sad existence.” 

Walking down the steps by yourself you felt the silence loud as your footsteps echoed. A part of yourself was licking your own wounds at his words, infantilizing…! You didn’t...you paused at the bottom of the steps, your expression wavering as you rubbed your neck...did you really do that to your sister…?

Looking back up at the steps you suddenly felt the urge to go back up and apologize to him, you were incredibly honest in your assessment, but...he did ask for it. Even after you tried to be polite about it. And if you could get anything from that, it was the assumption that he just genuinely thought you couldn’t read him or anyone else that well. 

You shook your head as you went back to the camp, whatever...It’s not like you’d be in contact with this guy for long. Once you all figured out what this Beach was, you’d simply part ways afterwards and you would no longer have to deal with him. Laying down on the taller grass wasn’t a great bed as you looked up at the sky. 

Still...it seemed like you were fire and ice together. You starkly remembered the look on his face, similar to now but something was different when you had both heard the words Game Cleared...you groaned as you rolled onto your side. 

Men were so frustrating.

“Are you sure this is it?” You felt a little reluctant at the sight ahead, there were certainly a lot of people but...it was as if they were far, far away from the reality of the Borderlands. And then it became apparent. Escapism, at it’s pure finest, if you had seen anything like it before. 

Chishiya’s eyes scanned over the map as he nodded, “If it’s anywhere, it’s here.” He confirmed as you all looked ahead as you curved a brow before shrugging as you sighed, it was better than nothing and you could use some answers. 

Strangely, it was as if last night's conversation didn’t exist between you both. You had woken up this morning and continued on as you had before, it was...very strange. You had anticipated he’d either leave or he’d alienate you. Maybe both? But then it occurred to you, he probably just didn’t care what you thought. 

You thought back on his expression which lead you to assume that no...It wasn’t that he didn’t care, granted he definitely didn’t care what you thought, that was a give but it wasn’t that he didn’t care in another way...That expression, it was dark and cold, not angry but...something bitter...How strange. You couldn’t pinpoint it. You were just glad you could, at the very least, co exist for the short while you’d be together.

“Well! Let’s go say hi then! I’m sure they’ll take us right to the leader or something...right?” Nanami leaned over to you in confirmation as you gave a weak smile before shrugging. You didn’t see any weapons and everyone was too busy playing around in the pool for you to assume otherwise. 

“Well shit let’s go! That looks like a lot of fun!” Akari was the first to bolt and Nanami was quickly after her as you and Chishiya walked behind them both and upon someone seeing you they had called out, “New comers!” 

And it was as if the whole party stopped. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you rubbed your neck, “Talk about party crashing...” You mumbled, immediately feeling unwelcome. 

“Hey…! You guys made it!” Ryu had pulled himself out of the pool in excitement as he ran up to you all, a boyish grin on his face in awe, “You found us surprisingly fast! It usually takes most people a week at most.” Well most people didn’t have a brainiac in their group...You briefly glimpsed at Chishiya who stayed just as stoic as always. Had it not been for him it probably would’ve taken two weeks to find this place. 

“Well if you’re here to join us I’ll take you to number 1!” Ryu nodded as he gestured to you all to follow him as you carefully looked around as you frowned, this place almost felt too good to be true...What even was it? 

Opening the doors to the upper level where all the higher ranked...members? Stayed you weren’t sure what you were expecting, “Welcome to Utopia! The Beach!” The man held up a bottle and his frizzy blonde hair swished around with his eccentric waving hands. It was the wall behind him that first you noticed. 

Playing cards had been drawn and only a little more than fifteen were X’d off? Was this supposed to be a whole playing deck? “Number 1! This was the group I told you about last night…!” Ryu waved a hand to you all in excitement, “I think they’d be a great addition to the Beach and it’s search for the cards!” 

“Cards?” Akari echoed out as she crossed her arms, flicking her hat up a bit to see better as you looked between both men.

The man let out a hardy laugh that made you wince a little...why did it feel like he was more than just...eccentric…? “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves Ryu.” The man slammed him on the back a little to hard making him jump as he rubbed his neck sheepishly, “Allow me to introduce myself! I’m Danma Takeru formly, most know me as the Hatter. Here in this paradise we foster hope for all! Drink as much as you’d like, eat to your heart's content do whatever pleases your soul!” 

This was way too good to be true. It had to be...

Something about Hatter seemed absent but you couldn’t figure out what only for it to immediately strike you, it wasn’t that he was eccentric, no...He was definitely neurotic, you weren’t sure how or in what way, but your professor had made your class do a project based on the signs and symptoms of neuroticism based in serial killers that could be attributed to the lead up in their crimes. Not that you assumed this was the potential for Hatter but...well it was the Borderlands and surely it had taken a toll on everyone to a degree...some more then others...

“There’s only three rules to allow you to stay here! The first being when on Beach property, swimwear is required!” He pointed a finger before lifting a second, “The second can be considered quite important.” Hatter turned around as he waved at the large wall, “It’s quite simplistic and I can’t leak my source. There’s only one escape from this hell, and that’s by collecting all the playing cards!” 

All potential problems aside your chest fluttered a little at his words, escape…! So this really was real, and you all were experiencing it and the only way out was through collecting a whole deck? Hatter madly grinned as he spoke, “A team of players is created each night as a group of three or four with balanced strengths in their respective game type where the chances of death are lowered significantly! The way this works is simple, rule two is to give up all your cards.” 

Really? That's all it took, this was…! This had to be full proof, a part of you still felt this was too good to be true, and you were sure part of it had to due with Hatter, despite his obvious signs of some sort of mental illness, he was quite the charming and upbeat person, it would be hard for anyone to not want to match his energy, “That’s right!” Hatter crossed his arms triphumantly, “Once we collect a whole deck a single person will be chosen to leave!” 

What…

Just…Just one person! “But…wait- how does that work? I don’t understand.” You immediately spoke up, pushing forward a little bit as Hatter’s gaze turned onto you, that wild grin of his showing as he chuckled. 

“We have a whole ranked system here! The more cards you collect the more your rank moves and the value of each card contributes to your rank. Creating one full deck is impossible for one person but the impossible becomes possible when you band a whole crew together, we have a lot of repeating cards so once the first person leaves more will soon follow after. That’s the goal of our utopia The Beach!” 

“I can’t believe we’re actually a part of something so…! Hopeful!” Nanami squealed from behind the barrier, she had finished changing faster than you but she was too excited, a brief smile tugged on your face as you glanced at the barrier before back to your dilemma, “I’m gonna go lay out at the pool! Catch up later?” 

“Yeah! Don’t wait up for me I’m...probably gonna be awhile…” You sighed as you rubbed your neck, you never really liked swimsuits all that much…

Nanami hurried out of the room as you sighed, picking up the bikini top in dismay...did they really expect you to wear beach attire the full time? Grabbing the halter top you hummed...beach attire! Okay you could make this work.

It had taken a little longer than you expected to find something that didn’t make you feel so exposed but in the end it worked out. Pulling up the high waisted shorts you ignored how far up your ass it pulled. You’d make it work! Pulling up the sheer beach cover you nodded in affirmation. Still somewhere in your mind lingered an important question, was this really worth it? 

Much to your surprise after Akari had agreed straight away Chishiya was the one after to agree, he didn’t seem thrilled...hardly excited either. It made you briefly wonder if he was only staying because this place had electricity which Ryu explained on the way to the dressing room that was fueled by a mass of propane tanks.

Regardless you wouldn’t be picky...It didn’t seem too terrible here. Just cards for free stay to food and a warm bed? It’s not like you’d get a full deck on your own, much like Hatter said you’d prefer to just live out your days at least in functional condition. And hey maybe if you gathered enough cards you’d move to a higher rank. You still wanted to chat with Ryu but just how the Borderlands worked. 

Closing the door the room you decided you’d search for him immediately.

The hotel was massive and not even all the floors were in use, looking down at your bracelet that was slated with 52, there was only currently what…? Forty members? Maybe a little more? Stepping out onto the terris your eyes scanned the large crowd that was all laid out, some in the pool and you could spot your sister surrounded by three guys, clacking your tongue you shook your head as you watched her giggle. It was hard to believe she had a complex some days but men not liking her...Honestly. 

Close to the middle of the pool you spotted Ryu and Hiroko, who for once had a smile on her face as she splashed him with a giggle. You felt brief hesitation, not wanting to interrupt but...you did want to hear a more detailed explanation about...well everything and Ryu seemed the most approachable…

Shifting a little as you looked down at your attire as you sighed in exasperation, finding a pool chair before shimmying your pants off and kicking off your flip flops before sitting at the edge of the pool dipping your feet in, “Hey Ryu!” You waved over, “Hiroko! Can I have a minute?” Hiroko frowned immediately upon sight of you but with a few whispered words from Ryu she adhered. 

“Hey…! I never did get your name. I really am glad you made it! Hatter has been asking us to go out and find people to bring it to help keep growing the Beach.” 

You offered a small smile as you kicked your feet in the water, it was the heat of july after all and the water was perfect for swimming, “Y/n, and that's my sister Nanami over there.” You nodded towards Nanami who was giggling over two highscool boys who kept shoving each other in hopes of getting her attention, “Thanks by the way, for last night. Honestly if it wasn’t for Chishiya it probably would’ve taken us weeks to find this place. It’s nice here.” 

“You mean the sour blonde?” Hiroko snorted as she glanced over near the pavilion they had set up, turning to follow her gaze you had spotted where Chishiya now was, sporting a pair of white swim trunks and his jacket still zipped up only with his headphones in and on his phone. 

“Is there even a wifi signal here?” You frowned as you tilted your head in wonder, he did look pretty sour sitting there, “Ah- anyways, yeah! That’s him, unfortunately he does live up to expectation.” You rolled your eyes a little as you returned your gaze back to the both of them before offering a weak smile, “What I wanted to ask was...God where do I even start, what are the playing cards, and what do they represent? Given we’re supposed to collect them I’m sure they have some significance, that’s a given.” 

“Playing cards are awarded for each game you play, the numerical value determines how long you’re allowed to stay at the borderlands on your visa, so if you were to complete a game at a value of five, you’d be allowed five days of stay” Ryu explained carefully, “Much like in a regular deck there’s four suits. What we played last night was a Clubs game, it stands for team building, meaning the game is usually associated with needing to work as a team to clear the game. Spades are related to physical activity- ah...not really my strong suit…” He rubbed the back of his neck feeling a bit sheepish. 

“He’s great at them!” Hiroko boasted, obviously proud of her boyfriend as she wrapped an arm around his waist, “He’s just modest- Diamonds stands for intellect and wit, typically anything that has to do with puzzle solving or use of logic and reason. Hearts though….” She winced a little as her nose wrinkled making you tilt your head in confusion, “I’m not sure to be honest, many say it’s a game of psychology, playing with the players minds to make simple game clears a lot harder. I’ve never experienced a heart game though. We’re still missing a lot on the board.” 

You tapped your lip as you hummed, “That doesn’t sound too terrible, I did notice they only have the 2 of hearts and the Ace up on the board...The most they’ve collected is spades and clubs?” 

“They’re the most common from what I’ve seen.” Ryu shrugged, “I’ve also never had a heart game, I had two diamond though and a lot of clubs and a few spades.”

You thought about it for a moment before nodding, alright this made sense, “And I’m guessing numerical value is the rating of difficulty?” 

Ryu brightly smiled as he nodded, “Yeah! We haven’t gotten anything past a seven though! And only one person experienced it and that was a Clubs too…” He rubbed the back of his head in thought, “Well things here only took off a few weeks ago to be fair…” 

“Just a few weeks ago?” Your mouth dropped in surprise before looking around in awe, “I never would've guessed! I thought it would take longer to build up such a crowd honestly…” 

“Not a few weeks-” Hiroko smacked Ryu on the back of the head as he whined a little, rubbing the sore spot as she spoke matter of factly, “It’s been a few weeks that we’ve been here...I think it’s been going for about a month altogether though...Things have been a little...tense…” She looked reluctant as she glanced away, a shadow cast over her face as you frowned, turning your head a little. 

Ryu and Hiroko exchanged looks as she nodded a little, “Well…” Ryu rubbed his shoulder as he lowered his voice, “Hiroko is in the top ten right now because of how much she participates in games, so one day she was with Kuzuryuu, Mihiru and An number 3, 4 and 5 right?” You nodded as you brows scrunched a little, wondering why Ryu seemed a little flighty as his eyes darted around as he lowered his voice once more, “Keep this between us alright? But when they opened the door with Agni- number 2 to a room full of slaughtered people. Apparently Hatter killed them all because they were hiding cards from him.” 

...Oh...so you were right? In assuming Hatter was definitely neurotic. Your professor would probably be proud but somehow you had a hard time taking pride in your assessment.

Hiroko winced a little at the memory as she looked away reluctantly, “...Hatter hasn’t really been the same, he only just created rule number three last week…” Right, rule number three. 

Death to all traitors. You had definitely suspected something was up with Hatter when he had explained that one but...you always tried your best to give the benefit of the doubt to everyone until you could no longer defend their actions by logic.

That one had admittedly caught your attention when Hatter explained that anyone with holding cards would be killed or if they tried to desert the Beach, a little scary but...again it wasn’t like it was possible for you to create a deck by yourself...But know knowing the story behind why that rule was put in place did make you feel a bit...Uneasy.

“That just happened?” Your face twisted a little as you wrapped your arms around yourself, both Ryu and Hiroko nodded. 

“Mhm, just last week. Things are slowly getting back to normal, there've been a few people resistant but I try not to think about it, word of advice? Just stay away from the militant sect, follow the rules and you’ll be fine.” Hiroko, for the first time offered a weak smile, despite her cool disposition she wasn’t too terrible. 

“Coming through y’all!” All three of you turned to watch Akari running full speed at the pool before jumping in making you jump as you covered the droplets of water that sprinkled you, “Whatcha talkin’ about over here? Secrets?” Akari swam up, floating on top of the water with a dorky smile, “I love secrets!” 

You couldn’t help but giggle as you splashed Akari with your foot as she yelped, flailing to stand up right, “Nothing that concerns you, did you abandon Nanami by herself.” 

“No offense but I think she’s doing pretty fine by herself.” Akari snorted as she nodded to Nanami, still yet again surrounded by boys but now had at least three drinks untouched sitting on the glass table next to her. Puffing a breath you rolled your eyes with a smile, typical. 

“They’re back!” Someone screamed before you heard more cheers making you straighten up as Hiroko puffed a breath, laying her arms on the edge of the pool as she rolled her eyes, “They went out to gather supplies because that snake tongue freak kept joking about using Ryu as target practice. I told Agni we were low on dry foods and alcohol so it worked out.” 

“W-well he wanted to set stuff on top of my head to um…” Ryu coughed a little as he looked away bashfully, twisting around you frowned as you watched several men walk in making your expression further contort. They all had guns. Like all of them. How has there not been a mass shootout? 

“We got all the liquor you could need! Get it fresh in the back everyone!” Your nose wrinkled at the sight of several piercings and you immediately knew who Hiroko was previously referencing to. 

“That’s Samura he just joined a few days ago,” Ryu spoke up as he nodded towards the guy with a fucking katanna on his back and tattoos all over his face, “People uh, just call him Last Boss though, he kinda looks like the end boss of a game that takes ages to beat. I think it suits him to be honest, a bit weird though…He immediately joined the militant sect as soon as he joined.” 

Hiroko rolled her eyes as she spoke, “Yeah Niragi apparently took a liking to him or something- I try not to keep up with them, they give me a headache. Plus that guy looks like a total shut in before he got dropped into the Borderlands, he has zero social skills.” You weakly smiled as you rubbed the back of your neck, that was a bit harsh...although you would say Last Boss did seem...there was something so focused yet...absent about his eyes. 

He in a strange way almost reminded you of a toddler that was still working on coordination between completing an action with someone's speech. 

The sun was suddenly blocked and a shadow casted over you as a raspy voice shouted out, “Well what do we have here? Fresh meat.” You glanced up to the tall dark haired figure, oh it was...snake tongue freak? As Hiroko had previously said, you would’ve in any other situation snapped something but this guy was carrying a sniper rifle like it was a loaf of bread. 

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you looked a little away, unsure of what to say as Hiroko suddenly stood all the way up, pushing herself out of the pool to stand up fully as she gave him a sneering glare, “Niragi go fuck with someone else.” 

The man- Niragi leaned back a little as he took a few steps back, cackling as he held up his hands, his tongue sticking out showing off the piercing briefly before he spoke, “Well excuse me miss bitch, I wasn’t talking to you.” A twisted smile appeared on his lips like it was some sort of sick amusement at Hiroko’s darkening glare, “Lemme see you kitty.” 

You made a noise similar to a yelp as you were suddenly dragged up to your feet and way too close to guy for comfort, his tongue sticking out and you were for a half a second wondering if he intended on licking you, “What a nice little body here, and such a pretty face too.” He cooed out sickeningly as he squeezed your face harshly, as you looked away from him, “I bet you and me would have a great time wouldn’t we.” 

You had dealt with a lot worse truthfully, and somewhere deep inside you were grateful you had otherwise you’d probably be in tears at how terrifying and semi psychotic this man was, “Sorry…” You winced looking up at him with an unappreciative look, “I only fuck people like you when they have a good paycheck.” 

Niragi howled out laugh making you briefly relax for a moment, offering a weak smile, at least he had a sense of- “Hey!” You screeched, suddenly being hauled against him as you squirmed to push away from him as you felt his hot wet tongue on your neck, “Let go!” 

His hands crawled their way up your waist as you squirmed, his tongue dragging up the lobe of your ear as he growled a whisper, “Why deny a good time huh? It’s okay, they’re always more fun when they resist.” He couldn’t get further when you jammed your knee between his legs taking the brief moment of his pain before harshly shoving him into the pool where a loud splash covered everyone who didn’t even pay any mind to the scene which obviously happened often much to your disappointment. 

Hiroko was immediately at your side, something motherish about the way she held you close as you watched Niragi flailed before getting his footing in the pool as he snarled, “You bitch!” Hiroko immediately brought you both back, her chest puffed as she glared him down as he crawled out of the pool, now towering over you both. 

What happened next baffled the both of you, something- No...a rock? It smacked straight across his head, not enough to cause any damage but enough to gain his attention, “These are quite useful for short range,” 

You whipped around in shock at the familiar voice, Chishiya had thrown a rock up before catching it as he glanced at the small thing, holding it up in examination, “Throw it hard enough and it could probably take out an eye,” He looked up at Niragi with perhaps the most frightening smile you had ever seen, his eyes in that classic cold sneer as he spoke, “Looks like you could use it given how blind you are.” 

You stepped away a little uneasy at the tension in the air that suddenly spiked as Niragi glared him down, Chishiya’s lips quirked into a smirk as he shoved his hands back into his pockets, not looking the least bit concerned. 

Wasn’t this just perfect? 

Note: I am by no means a Niragi simp but like,,,he lowkey kinda fun to write when Chishiya is constantly baiting this man into violence. Next chapter is v fun!! lemme know what you guys think so far! :)

[whump-a-la-mode]

A Rather Odd Heist AKA The Trophy Room

Hi! I don’t know what this is and I have (at the time of writing) work in four hours! I had this idea in a daydream and just had to get it down in writing.

I apologize if the formatting is weird. I usually write in the tumblr text editor but this was written in docs.

CW//Threats, talk of injury, talk of disease, poison, death threats, descriptions of pain, restraints, medical emergencies, collars, chains, dehumanization, being kept as a trophy

    The wound felt like disease.

    It was a long slash, started at the front of Hero’s chest, just below the clavicle, and extending to the middle of their shoulder blade. The pain was white hot, tearing through skin and into sensitive flesh below, but more than that, even as the wound was carved, the feeling of infection, of poison, seeping in was overwhelming. 

    They lost the balance from the pain alone, slamming into the worn tile floor of the subway platform with a crack from their cheekbone. 

    Their assailant, on the other hand, landed with far more grace, on their feet. Hibou’s claws, wicked constructions of metal that had clearly recently been to the whetting stone, curled inwards towards their palm. Not far, though. The twelve inch long weapons constricted their movement, not that they minded. The aluminum feathers attached to their rust-painted goggles twitched with amusement.

    “I really thought they’d sent someone with a little more skill in… standing.” They smirked, though it stretched their mouth far too wide, enough to make Hero uncomfortable. “Do they not teach you that at HQ?”

    Hero grumbled out a half-hearted reply that even they were unable to make out. After a moment of catching their breath, they scrambled to their feet; every movement of their shoulder sending a new wave of agony through the marred flesh. 

    They met Hibou’s gaze (or, at least, the black lenses of their goggles), holding it for a long moment. The world around them took a shuddering breath as a weak gust of wind managed to find its way into the abandoned subway tunnel. 

    Through Hero’s mind ran half a dozen half-baked plans. Diversions and threats they could carry out, attacks they could make. None would work, certainly, but it occupied their panic-addled mind until the footsteps sounded behind them.

    They dared not spin around and let Hibou out of their sight, but they were acutely aware of the two pairs of feet, one on either side, approaching to surround them.

    “This one was spying.” Hibou glanced to one of the unseen figures, the one on Hero’s right. “And you know what they thought would be a good hiding spot? You wanna know?”

    “Course we wanna know.” The voice had a snakelike quality to it, hissed out between fangs.

    “The catwalk! The broken down catwalk. You always said that if anyone ever walked up there it’d fall, and guess what! You were right.”

    A barrier of cackling penned Hero in on all sides for a moment. The slash on their shoulder didn’t seem to be bleeding, but the pinpricks of disease refused to stop.

    “So, that begs the question.” Hibou continued. “What are we going to do with them?”

    Hero felt as though a wire was tightened around their neck. In a motion that surprised even themself, they leapt onto the tracks, running along the rusty metal for a moment before attempting to struggle their way out of the other side.

    The cold, scaly hand gripped them before they had any chance to do so. With a horrifying strength, and a bold show of it, the hand threw them up, slamming them onto their back. A clawed hand pressed to their chest, foot-long blades threatening to prick into their skin. Those rusty goggles stared down at them in a way that seemed almost playful.

    It was supposed to be a simple mission, they couldn’t help but recall as they lay there, well-sharpened blades likely only a few inches of flesh away from their rapidly beating heart. 

    Despite their seniority within the Heroes’ Organization, the amount of solo missions they were assigned to was low. Extremely so. Even lower than that of some of the recruits and cadets. Most would have been bothered by the fact-- fearing that their superiors thought them to be worthless or not good enough. That fear didn’t apply to Hero, however.

    No. They knew exactly why they spent most of their days stalking around base, chatting with the medical staff or the engineers.

    After all, healing powers wouldn’t get you very far in a fight.

    Hell, they hadn’t even been supposed to go on this particular spying mission in the first place. Yet, of course, the cadet who was meant to take the simple job had broken their leg in a training accident. 

    It had sounded simple. Almost deceptively so-- as if there should have been something more to the whole thing. But, no. It was exactly as easy as it had been drawn out to be. Sneak into the villains’ temporary base, find out their numbers and exactly what kind of weaponry they possessed, and report back.

    They could have done it in an afternoon. But they just had to have taken the chance with the catwalk. They could have run, they’d had the chance, but…

    They’d been too scared. That was the other reason they were always stuck at base. They were a coward. The mission directors knew it.

    “What, hey, don’t die on me yet. That’d be boring.”

    Hibou’s voice cut through their swirling thoughts. Their eyes focused on the empty goggles looming above them.

    “And I hate when things are boring. So, answer my question.”

    “I- w- wh-”

    “Ugh. I said, what should we do with you?”

    “L- L-”

    “Come on, use your words.”

    “Let me go.” It croaked out of their parched throat like a forced tear. “Please.”

    “Oh, well, since you said please…” They rolled their eyes. “How about this. Let’s put it to a vote. This is a democracy, after all.”

    Next to Hibou’s goggled face appeared two more. One sharp and scaled around the eyes, the other with hair that hung down in wet mats. Akula and Zema. 

    “So, guys, what do you think? What should we do with them?”

    Hero felt to be a rabbit surrounded by cats.

    “Hey, boss?” Zema-- the scaled one-- spoke up. “What’s that on their shoulder?”

    “Hm?” Though their eyes could not be seen, Hero just knew that, in that moment, they lit up. “Oh, that. Now that is a good idea, Zema.”

    “Wh- What did you do to me!” Hero fought to jerk upwards, but was only met with a sharp hand forcing them back down. 

    “Oh, you know…” Hibou raised their other hand, the one not holding their captive down. The claws curled into as close to a fist as they could get. “When you came in to interrupt me and my work, I was just finishing up a special batch of… hm… what would a layman call it. A biopoison, I believe.”

    Hero choked.

    “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that, huh? That’s what you get for interrupting my work.”

    “So… they’re just gonna die?” Akula questioned.

    “Hm? Oh, I mean, without intervention, yes. Not immediately, though I could arrange that.” Ever so slightly, the claws moved towards Hero’s neck. “I guess we should probably just do that.”

    “W- Wait!” Hero gasped. “If it’s going to, uh, if it’s going to kill me anyways, then why not just let me go? It doesn’t matter either way, right?”

    Hibou smiled that horrible, wide smile.

    “You know, the little coward has a point. That’d be a lot more fun. You don’t want to die, though, do you?”

    One of those claws curled beneath Hero’s chin, forcing it upwards with the blunt end. It didn’t cut, but they knew that with any false move, it would.

    “No.” They managed to croak out.

    “So… hm. There’s something you want, and you can only get it from me. And, well, now that I think about it, there might just be something that you have that I want. Now, that sounds like a fair trade, doesn’t it?”

    “What is it? Please, anything. A- anything.”

    “That’s what I’d hoped you’d say. Hero, I think you know exactly what I want.”

    “N- No. I don’t.”

    “Of course you do.” The claw pushed their chin up even further, pressing the back of their head against the tile. “I want my kid back.”

    Hero’s eyes widened. They felt bile rise in their throat.

    “I can’t.”

    “Well, then, you’ll die. Easy as that.”

    “W- Wait-”

    “To me, it sounds like a very fair trade, Hero. We’ve had to spend so long watching our friend suffer… slowly rot away. And now, your friends will have to do the same. It’ll be easier for you, though. Your eyes will melt out of your skull far before the real gross stuff happens.”

    Hero gulped, feeling their throat press far too close to Hibou’s claws.

    “Is there any other way?”

    “Hmm… No. I don’t think so. Here’s my final offer, right now: You bring me my kid back. They’ll know where to find me. Then, I give you the antidote. Either that, or I cut your head off, here and now. I’ll even mail it back to your HQ, just as a little gift.”

    “I-”

    Hero felt their chest shudder. The sweat dripping from their forehead had long since dampened their hair. It was supposed to be a simple mission. Just some recon. Just a simple mission.

    But…

    “Okay. I accept.”

    “Good.”

    The pressure lifted almost immediately, finally allowing Hero to once again breathe. They scrambled to their feet, and were almost halfway out of the abandoned platform when they heard Hibou yell from behind:

    “The rash should start in about twelve hours! Just so you know!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

    It was the nature of a hunter to keep trophies of those that they had killed.

    Of course, not in the wild. In the wild, animals were simply content to fill their bellies. The only trophy needed of their hunting was the fact that they were still well and alive.

    Humans, however, did not have such a luxury. Survival was not a prize to be shown off. So, other methods had to be found. Trophies had to be taken. 

    Taken and displayed.

    No one questioned the scarf that Hero had wrapped tightly about their neck, despite the fact that it was the dead of summer. They had no time to question it. The other inhabitants of the Headquarters of the Heroes’ Organization had their own duties to complete, and not a second to spare in completing them.

    So, Hero found no difficulty in walking through the front doors, every step they took threatening to aggravate the already agonizing wound on their shoulder. 

    After a few steps, they found themself in the center of the entrance lobby, legs stiffened. Hibou’s words echoed in their mind, sharper than their blades, as their head tipped upwards. Their gaze raised to the trophy room.

    That was what everyone called it, anyways. It wasn’t so much of a room as much as it was a glass cylinder, sticking out from the railing of the upper floor. On first seeing it, cadets often panicked, fearing that it would fall at any moment. It appeared simply that precarious, even though it was, supposedly, practically indestructible. Even the glass itself was rated to withstand nuclear attack.

    There was a reason for that.

    The cylinder was rather large, maybe 20 feet in diameter. However, the vast majority of it was taken up by chains-- four of them, one from each side. Heavy iron things, each link likely too heavy to be lifted on its own. The four chains all converged at one point in the center.

    The trophy.

    Villain wasn’t a particular strong person. They may have been before their capture, but any strength they had had been long since drained away. They weren’t particularly tall, to begin with, but from the angle, they looked miniscule.

    The iron collar around their neck, resting heavily on their shoulders and collarbone, was the center point of the chains. Each hooked onto one side of the collar.

    Villain’s seated position pulled the chains practically completely taut, the weight of iron resting completely and totally on their neck. The pressure would have been less had they stood, but they had stopped doing that a long time ago.

    The grey cotton prisoner uniform had about as much color to it as their face.

    Hero couldn’t say they knew the story of Villain’s capture, nor what had warranted it. The trophy room had been there as long as they had been part of the organization. They supposed it was odd, just how quickly they had gotten used to it. The trophy room and the trophy it held were simply a part of HQ.

    If Villain were to disappear for a second, everyone in the building could and would notice it. 

    Hibou’s kid… Of course, they were truly related. They seemed about the same age. But the fondness with which those horrid villains spoke about their friend…

    Hero shook their head. If they kept acting like this, they’d get dragged to the infirmary with a thermometer shoved in their mouth in an instant. They began forward again, headed towards the staging room.

    They didn’t have any missions scheduled for the day, not that they knew of at least, and they were glad for that. Still, they had their unofficial duty, preparing the other heroes for their missions. 

    The staging room sat behind a pair of steel doors, requiring a retina scan to pass through, which Hero passed easily. The doors slid open as they stepped through, already feeling a dozen pairs of eyes lock to them. 

    Colloquially, the place was often referred to as the locker room, both literally and as a joke. Lockers lined the walls, while benches filled the rest, except for at the very front, where a pair of tables were well stocked with snacks, drinks, and basic medical supplies.

    After a second, most of the heroes looked down, having been satisfied that there was no threat. The only one that kept their head up was Teammate, who quickly waved Hero over. They obliged without thinking, sitting next to them on their bench. 

    “What’s up?” Hero questioned. Teammate didn’t respond for a moment, as they were pulling a sweater off over their head. When they were finished, they replied:

    “Eh, I’m good. What’s with the scarf?”

    “‘Tis called fashion.”

    “Fair enough.”

    “Where are you headed out to?”

    “Patrolling a hospital, they had a threat or something. You?”

    “I don’t do missions.” They did their best to accompany it with a smile.

    “You did yesterday, didn’t you?”

    “Yeah.”

    “How’d that go?’

    “Eh, it was fine. Spying missions are boring.”

    “There’s no lie there. Anyways, um, when I was fighting yesterday I kinda got this cut-”

    “Where?”

    “Right here, on my leg.”

    Teammate leaned down, rolling up one of their pant legs to knee height. Sure enough, across their shin, a wicked scar carved its red mark. Hero hardly thought about it as they placed a hand on the wound.

    A green glow emanated from their palm, flowing and wrapping around the injured leg. The wound’s ragged edges solidified with scar tissue, before knitting themselves together.

    It was so simple. A grievous wound, dealt with in an instant.

    Of course, that was all they could do. Healing powers weren’t magic, not really. They couldn’t bring back the dead. They could only accelerate what the body already had the ability to do. A cold? Gone in a second? A biopoison?

    Well, they couldn’t bring back the dead.

    The wound finished its knitting, and Hero withdrew their hand. Teammate offered a quick smile, speaking:

    “Thanks so much, see ya’ later!”

    Before running off. Off on a mission. Off doing something important.

    Something good.

    Hero slumped forward on the bench, feeling a horrible exhaustion overtake them. When the call for their help came, they weren’t exactly surprised. It was quick, short, simply:

    “Is Hero here? I need Hero.”

    They raised their head, expecting to see a cadet who had hit their arm or something.

    Instead, standing halfway in the doorway, face a mask of panic, stood a person in a lab coat. They clutched themself, arms around their chest, trembling visible from halfway across the room. They met Hero’s gaze.

    “Come on, come on. Quickly, please.”

    There was nothing in their voice but panic. Even urgence was drowned out by sheer fear. Hero was on their feet in an instant, on the heels of the doctor who was moving at the same speed. They ran, together, all the way to the medical wing, on the other side of the floor.

    From there, they moved along a small catwalk, leading to-

    Hero didn’t even look up to realize the destination until they were already there.

    The only access to the trophy room was a small, horribly narrow catwalk. A horde of doctors was already flooding it, but they moved out of Hero’s way without question. The first doctor stopped in front of the door to the glass cylinder, which was sealed with just about every type of lock known to man.

    “They’re unresponsive.” The explanation was quick, curt. “Do you know how to put on a hazmat suit?”

    “What?”

    “Do you know how to put on a hazmat suit?”

    “I-”

    “Here, here, I-”

    “Why do I need a hazmat suit!”

    “It’s not safe in there, you can’t go in without one.”

    Hero’s gaze darted to the interior of the cylinder. Half of the chain had gone taut, while the other two were slack, on account of the fact that Villain had slumped over, all their weight supported only by the collar around their neck. In the little visible skin that the collar revealed, horrible red marks could be gleaned.

    “They look like they’re dead.” They whispered in horror. “Why do I need a hazmat suit?”

    “Their powers, they’ll hurt you.”

    “Even when they’re unconscious?”

    “Well, no, but-”

    Hero’s hands latched onto one of the padlocks, straining against it, trying to pull the metal apart. It did nothing, of course. They didn’t have superstrength. But it simply felt like the right thing to do.

    Eventually, someone handed them a key, then another, and another after that, until every lock on the door was opened. They swung it open, leaping inside, heart in their ears. Every panicked beat sent a new shock of diseased pain through their shoulder.

    Ducking and stepping over chains, they maneuvered until they were at Villain’s side. Their first thought was to check for a pulse-- it was weak, but there.

    They gritted their teeth.

    Hero was going to save Hibou’s kid, and by god, neither of them were going to die.

[thebigqueer]

Solangelo - "Lethal Enemies" - One-Shot

Summary: Nico and Will are venturing through Tartarus, and there they meet a familar god: Eros.

Word Count: 2905

SPOILERS: Tower of Nero, Burning Maze; TW: Homophobia/Internalized Homophobia, some violence (and blood but it's not too descriptive), outing mentions

Read on AO3

Heat pulses in the air, scorching Nico’s skin as he and Will stumble through the darkness. He isn’t sure how long they’ve been down here, but his body is already aching and screaming from all the effort of fighting monsters and trying to survive.

Will’s arm brushes against Nico’s, and the child of Hades almost jumps back at the touch. His skin feels feverishly hot, bursting with unnatural heat. When Nico looks up at him, he realizes that Will’s face is severed with scratches, gashes, sweat, and an overall pale wash. Small holes smoke in his CHB T-shirt, and his jeans are ripped at the sides from where a monster clawed him.

At the sight of him, Nico’s chest constricts with sympathy and guilt. As much as he loves Will for coming with him, he knows the kind of pressures that would put on both of them. Will looks so out of place in such a dark, gloomy world, where only terror and misery reside.

To Nico, Will is the complete opposite of terror and misery. He’s the sunshine after a terrible rain storm; he’s the sweetness after the sourness. But here, in the raging darkness, Will looks washed out. He doesn’t belong here.

Tartarus is Nico’s terrifying, unspeakable past; Will is his bright future. The two should not be clashing.

This hell was made to ruin. And it seems like it’s doing its job on Will, too.

Nico slips his fingers into the blond’s and squeezes, pushing his own feverish warmth into his boyfriend. Will turns his face to Nico’s and, for the first time, Nico sees a crack in his eyes - usually so sky blue, they’ve turned almost gray with fear. He’s breaking.

Nico leans into Will’s side, trying to find solace in the overbearing darkness. “It’s only going to get worse,” he mutters.

“Then I’m glad I’m not doing it alone.”

Nico offers a wavering smile, and they continue walking. For the most part, it seems like they’re safe from any monsters, but Nico knows from past experience that he can never be too careful. His eyes swerve all around them, watching out for any new monsters, and his Stygian sword pulses in the darkness.

After a few moments, there’s a shift in the air. It’s still warm and unbearable, but there’s a new scent - like a faint waft of the outside world, the breath of a fresh summer day. It smells almost like Will.

The blood in Nico’s veins buzzes and he stops immediately. Fear courses through his body. Will staggers as the child of Hades grips his wrist and pulls him back. At the sight of Nico’s ashen face, Will leans in. “Everything good?” he asks.

“That smell,” he whispers. “What does it smell like to you?”

“Well,” Will says, eyebrows knitting together as he thinks, “it kind of smells like you, weirdly? Like, the earth after a rainy day.”

That’s all Nico needs to know before panic settles in his chest. His mind crawls with memories and the pain of humiliation he faced just a year ago. Jason, Croatia, Diocletian’s spectre.

“No,” he mutters. “Will, we need to leave.”

Without waiting for a response, Nico tightens his fingers over Will’s wrist and starts to pull him away. But a voice murmurs, “Oh, leaving so soon, child of Hades?” and Nico knows right then and there that he and Will are trapped.

The voice pours over the heat like melted chocolate, smooth and deep, but a dagger of betrayal resides in it. Nico’s heart thuds on overtime and his nerves flair with anxiety, but he knows he can’t go anywhere. This meeting was bound to happen.

“Eros,” Nico hisses.

“Ah,” the voice murmurs. “So you recognize me.”

The god isn’t visible, but Nico can feel his cold presence anyway. “Who would forget such a jackass?”

A low, rumbling laugh echoes around them. Will’s hand releases its hold on Nico’s and lingers over the gun at his side. Nico raises his sword.

“Well, well, well,” the god says, “it looks like you’ve got a new friend here with you. How sweet.”

“Show yourself,” Will demands. “Face us like the hot-headed deity you are.”

Though he can’t see it, Nico still senses the raised eyebrow over the god’s eye. “Oh, he’s feisty, too. You sure have won with him.”

“Stop talking about him like he’s some kind of object,” says Nico. “You heard him. Show yourself.”

The same laughter crashes over them, and after another moment, a being appears. His long, black hair gleams despite the absence of light, and his red eyes glimmer maliciously in the darkness. They stare right through Nico, stabbing him in the face, and suddenly Nico’s hurtling to the past, to the misery. He scowls at the god.

Eros’ wings spread around him, the feathers fluttering a little as he shifts. He crosses his arms and offers a sharp smirk to Will and Nico. “Aw, look at you two,” he purrs. “So young and in love. Ready to fight together in Tartarus.”

“What do you want?” Nico asks, brandishing his sword. “Why are you bothering us?”

Eros’ shoulders rise and fall gracefully in an innocent shrug. “Oh, nothing, really. I was really just hoping to see how you were. I heard you were traveling down here, and I thought I would check on your progress.”

“Well, great. You’ve checked. You can leave.”

He laughs again, a low, tumbling laugh that heightens Nico’s rage. “Ever the sarcastic, child of Hades. No, listen. I can help you.”

“And how will you do that?” Will asks, raising an eyebrow. “You’re nothing more than a love god.”

“Have the Aphrodite children taught you nothing, pitiful child?” Eros hisses. “Love plays an important role in life.”

“I don’t see how love is helpful here,” Nico says, spreading his arms to gesture to the rest of Tartarus. “All I see is pain and misery. You can leave.”

“Oh, but I see where love can become important.” Eros raises a brow and tips his head to the boys. “Are you two not in love?”

Nico blushes. “That is not of your concern.”

“I can influence a lot,” he promises. “Especially the way you two act together. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase - the two you were oh-so-jealous of only some time ago - came here together. They got away safely. I can influence a lot between you and Will Solace.” He steps forward, and against his lips, a dagger-like smile beams at Nico.

The son of Hades crosses his arms. “I happen to remember that I got through here on my own. Love does not solve all problems.”

Eros raises an eyebrow. “Does it not?” He begins to circle around Will and Nico, glaring at them with his ruby-red eyes. “Tell me, Nico, does Will not make you feel special? Does he not help you feel better?”

Rage billows up in Nico’s chest, pushing against his sternum. “I am happy with Will. But he does not solve my problems, just the way I do not solve his.”

“But you are happier with him, is that right?” Another smile flashes across his mouth. “And who are you to thank for him, hmm? If it were not for me, you would not be here today with him. You would not be happy accepting who you are.”

Nico’s anger rises up to this throat, hot waves of rage crashing against the back of his neck. He surges forward, but Will pulls him back. “No,” he whispers. “He’s a god, Nico. Don’t try.”

Nico glares at Will, but deep down, he knows Will is right. So he sighs and stands still.

“I would not be happy?” he growls. Nico's muscles tighten with rage. “You humiliated me. I wasn’t ready to admit who I was; I wasn’t ready for any of that.” This time, despite Will’s insistence, Nico rushes forward, his anger pulling him toward the god. “It was my choice, and you stole it from me! And you’re congratulating yourself?”

“It’s not like there were many people there,” the god scoffs. “Only Grace.” He pouts. “I heard about the demigod’s untimely death, however. Terribly sorry.”

Nico shakes his head. He knows Eros is just trying to get under his skin by mentioning Jason. He can’t let himself get distracted.

“Your outing of me was not something to celebrate,” hisses Nico. “I spent so much time hating myself, hating Percy because of who I was. When you forced me to blatantly admit that I was gay” - a burst of confidence blooms in Nico’s chest as he says the last word - “I had never felt so violated. I only hated myself more, because I was terrified of who I was. The entire experience was humiliating. You ruined me.”

“Did I?” Eros asks. “The first step in accepting yourself was to admit you were gay in the first place. I pushed you to accept yourself.” He gestures to Will. “Now look where you are! Happy and in love with a boyfriend! Is there anything better?”

Nico’s chest heaves as another wave of rage suffocates him. His body shakes with anger. He feels like a detonating bomb; in just a few seconds, he will explode and destroy everything in the area.

“You only made things worse,” mutters Nico. “I spent days worrying about who was watching me, worrying about how much people knew. I hated myself every moment, every second afterwards, even more so than before you forced me to admit that I was gay.” Nico takes a deep breath, his chest expanding as he does so. “Maybe you’re right - maybe I did need to admit to myself who I was. But it should have been on my own terms. You did not help me accept myself; all you did was make me tell myself what I already knew. You made the entire process of accepting myself more difficult than it needed to be. When I spat out that I liked Percy, I felt… I felt violated. I felt like someone had stabbed me right through the back. I… I hated myself more than I ever did at that moment. I thought it was the end; I thought right then and there, I would die. Not from embarrassment, but from someone else’s hands. My own hands. I thought there was nothing more humiliating than to be forced to tell someone I didn’t know that I was some kind of disgusting creature. I felt so dehumanized.” Nico glares at Eros. “Don’t feel happy that you did that. You did not improve my life; only I did that. Not Will, not you, not any of my friends. Me. Do not take credit for my accomplishments.” Hot fury seethes in Nico’s core, washes up over his chest, crashes against his throat, trickles down his arms and legs. His lungs expand and exhale as he breathes hard, each breath like acid burning down his sinuses. “My work has been looked over too much, ever since I first learned of demigods. Do not take the credit for my self-improvement, because you are one of the many reasons I was destroyed in the first place.”

For a moment, no one speaks. An eerie silence lingers in the air, holding Nico in a chokehold. Eros simply watches him, his eyebrows lowered and a fierce, judgmental, angry look glowing in his red eyes. Will tilts his head at Nico and offers the ghost of a smile. I'm proud of you, he seems to be saying.

Nico doesn’t return it, but even then, a little flower of confidence blooms in his chest.

Eros crosses his arms once more, airing his defiance out into the open. Arrogance sparks along his wings. He raises a brow at Nico. “You have become more bold in yourself. Self-assured.” A sharp smile grates against his mouth. “And that would not have happened had you not admitted you were gay at all. I may have humiliated you, but in the end, you have become stronger through your pain. You have become sturdy, grounded into the world. I have led you to your happiness.” He offers a secretive smile to Will. “And your happiness is your boyfriend. You’re welcome.”

Nico watches Eros, glaring at his over-confident face, at his casual posture, at the pride in his eyes. He is too assured in himself, too hot-headed.

The sword in Nico’s hand grows heavier, a hum buzzing through the metal. Irritation and anger swirl in his chest, creating a tornado in his body, and he’s drowning, drowning in his rage, in his memories, in his untamed emotions.

He knows what he has to do.

Nico raises his sword, and, without even thinking, he slashes the god’s shoulder.

“Nico!” Will cries, but it’s too late. Eros cries out and hisses through his teeth, holding his arm in his hand. His angry red eyes gleam right at the child of Hades, projecting all his rage and pain right to Nico’s core. The demigod merely stands still, waiting for the god’s next move.

“Oh, you arrogant hero!” Eros cries. Golden ichor slips past his fingers, dripping onto the ground, and for a strange, fleeting moment, Nico finds that it looks beautiful in the darkness, sparkling where it should not be.

Only pain belongs in Tartarus. Nico wants to hurt Eros the way he hurt him.

Nico knows the act was stupid, but he can’t help the grin that takes over his face. Laughter bubbles out of his chest, sprinkled with something maniacal, something angry. “What’s wrong, my lord?” Nico purrs, leaning against his sword. “You said love fixes pain. Can it fix you?”

Eros snarls at Nico, but the son of Hades doesn’t care. Nothing beats the thrill that thrums in his body at the sight of the god being so frustrated.

Eros pants through the pain, his face turning red. “You think you are something special, don’t you, child?”

Nico laughs, the sound of it ironic in such a painful place. The laugh overflows with repressed pain, with hot anger.

That laugh belongs here in Tartarus, with its madness and rage.

“Oh, Eros,” Nico mutters. “I spent so long thinking I deserved nothing. I spent so long thinking everywhere I went, misery followed me. I have never felt special.” He glances up and down at the god. “You asked me if even Will makes me feel special. Well, no. He makes me… feel good. But you know what makes me feel actually special?”

Despite his rage, curiosity strangles Eros’ eyes. He waits for a response, hissing as more ichor spills out of his godly being.

“What makes me feel good, what makes me feel like I have a worth in this world,” Nico says as a smile creeps over his face, offering him a maniacal glow, “is when I provide justice to those who have done wrong. Originally I always believed Death has no mercy, only justice.” He slashes again at Eros, who cries louder and falls to his knees. He pants through the pain. “Well, I suppose there are other ways to provide justice.”

Nico runs his finger through the golden ichor that gleams over his sword. Touching it, Nico’s finger tingles with power. He looks at Eros again. “What makes me feel special is when I defeat entitled assholes like you, my lord.”

“You have not defeated me,” the god growls.

“No, not physically,” Nico agrees. “But I have defeated the pain you have caused me.” He touches the tip to Eros’ chin, balancing it mere millimeters from his skin. The point gleams red as it reflects the glow of Eros’ eyes. “Begone, you pitiful asshole.”

Eros snarls and throws Nico’s sword away, but the demigod only smiles. This is exactly the reaction he wanted.

“You cannot kill me, arrogant hero,” Eros reminds him.

“No, but I can scare you.” Raising an eyebrow at him, Nico says, “Many have been scared of me. I am a child of Hades. You may be a god, but you have no idea of what I am capable of.”

Eros regards Nico with a sharp glare, but the sight of it no longer grates against Nico’s conscience. He’s only bursting with energy, with confidence. He hasn’t felt so alive in years. Power hums in his core, billows over his chest, courses through his veins. He feels almost invincible.

“You have made an enemy, Nico di Angelo,” Eros promises. “And love is no enemy you want. Especially not with someone in your situation.”

Nico falters. What does Eros mean? Does he mean his being gay? Does he mean with society in general? Then Nico turns to his boyfriend, who’s shivering with fear and adrenaline at his side, and it clicks. He means Will.

Nico scowls at Eros. “You say I have made an enemy, Eros, but the truth of the matter is that you made me an enemy long ago. When you first stabbed me in the shoulder with your weapon.” Nico glances at the wound on Eros’ left arm and shakes his head. “You made a mistake long ago. You are only now realizing it.”

Silence lingers around them, floating tensely in the hot air. Then Eros says, “I can influence a lot.” A glimmer of confidence returns in his eyes. “Be warned, child of Hades.”

With that, Eros disappears. And Will and Nico are left alone once more, staring ahead to whatever terrors lie ahead.

[majimemegoro]

When Saejima drifted to consciousness and opened his eyes to see the well-worn beams of a traditional house, with dried fish hanging from its rafters and a pot over the hearth, he was more surprised at the fact that he was anywhere at all than at the particular surroundings he found himself in.

It only took a few more seconds of his blinking at the ceiling before a voice beside him said, “Ah, you’re awake.”

Saejima groaned and somehow managed to sit up despite the fact that every muscle in his body felt like it had been pulverized. Then he realized that between the brawl in the prison, the tumble from the snowmobile, the fight with the bear (had that been real?), and whatever effects he was suffering from exposure to the elements, every muscle in his body probably had been pulverized. The skin, bones, and organs, too.

The person who had spoken sat across from Saejima, on the other side of the little hearth and hanging pot, from which a delicious smell was emanating. His hair and beard were grey.

“You can call me Okudera,” the man said. “I brought you down from the mountain. You’re lucky to be alive.” And without pausing: “Here.” He pushed a bowl of hot stew into Saejima’s hands.

Saejima looked down at it, and then back up at the man - Okudera. His expression was calm and clear, but Saejima couldn’t help dwelling on all the ways this situation was strange and had the potential to become terrible. Did this guy not realize that Saejima had escaped from Abashiri?

“It’s good,” Okudera said impatiently. “Now go on, eat.”

Carefully Saejima took a piece of meat in his chopsticks and put it in his mouth. His eyes widened.

Okudera cracked a grin. “That was made by the best damn cook in Hokkaido,” he said.

Saejima attacked the meal. He was inclined to believe Okudera was right.

As he finished scraping the last of the sauce into his mouth, there was a sliding sound and the whistle of wind, and a second man entered the house. The man hesitated for a moment when he saw that Saejima was awake, but his eyes weren’t fearful. There was something animal-like in the placid intensity of his gaze, as though he were a predator looking at something that wasn’t food, something it wasn’t planning on devouring. It was unnerving. Then he turned away and began shedding his hat and coat.

“Ah, you’re back,” Okudera said. “Our guest has awoken.”

“I can see that,” the second man said expressionlessly. His voice was soft, but hoarse. “How are you feeling?”

Saejima opened his mouth to answer, but Okudera beat him to it. “I said I’m fine,” Okudera said, in the mild tone of a man who had gotten tired of pretending to be offended at inquiries into his well-being. “It will take more than a little weight-bearing hike to put me out of commission. Didn’t even muss my ponytail.”

The other man shrugged. He took a stool and sat down by the wall, facing towards Saejima and hunched over with his elbows on his knees. The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling did little to illuminate the harsh planes of his face, only hollowed his cheekbones and turned his eye sockets into dark holes, making his grim stare unsettling indeed.

“Ah...” Okudera said. He turned back to Saejima. “Well, you’ve already heard who I am. And this is my-”

“I’m his hunting partner,” the other man broke in, deadpan. “Suzuki.”

“Uh, yeah, this is my hunting partner... Suzuki,” Okudera repeated, looking at him. “He can be a bit unfriendly, but he’s a good guy, really. Suzuki - cheer up!”

Suzuki didn’t take his eyes off Saejima, and his expression didn’t soften.

Saejima nodded slowly. “I’m Saejima,” he said. “Thank you for rescuin’ me. I owe you my life.”

“Not a big deal,” Okudera said. “Besides, if the bears eat human flesh they get all fucked up, apparently, and we already have a demon bear on the loose around here, so...”

Recalling the bear he had fought, Saejima nodded again, darkly. He could very well imagine that thing being a man-eater. He was really lucky to be alive.

And then he remembered, and ice shot through his veins.

“Oh no!” Saejima said. “Baba-chan! My - I came here with a friend, did either of you see-?!”

Okudera’s brow creased with worry as he shook his head. “There was someone else with you?”

“Yeah! Baba, he’s - I have to go get him-!” Saejima tried to rise.

“Oh no, stop moving!” Okudera said. “You’ll damage your flesh, remember? I didn’t see anyone else out there, but I’ll go back and look-”

“I’ll go,” Suzuki said, standing up. “You’re exhausted, you should rest.”

“I’m a better tracker,” Okudera protested, also rising.

“You might as well have recently carried a deer down from the mountain,” Suzuki said bluntly. “You’re pretending to be fine, but your back is acting up, no? I’m faster than you, anyway. And furthermore, Yama-oroshi is out. I’m better off on my own.”

For a moment Okudera’s mouth twisted, as though he were tasting the fact that Suzuki was right, and hated the flavor. Then, “Fine, Simo,” Okudera said, sitting back down. “Do what you want.”

Suzuki had already turned away and begun outfitting himself in winter gear by the time Okudera finished giving his grudging permission.

“Simo?” Saejima echoed. “Yama-oroshi?”

“Simo is just a nickname,” Okudera said morosely, watching Suzuki tie a pale yellow animal pelt over his shoulders and back. “Because Suzuki is such a fucking amazing sniper or whatever. Yama-oroshi is what the villagers call the demon bear.”

“Ah.”

As Suzuki finished pulling a dark green hat down over his ears, Okudera climbed off the wooden floor and took the rifle off the hooks where it hung by the door. He handed it to Suzuki.

Suzuki took it with a nod of thanks, and stood there, ready. Okudera reached down to adjust the cords holding Suzuki’s pelt in place.

“Be careful,” he murmured.

“I will,” Suzuki replied, almost as softly. Then he moved away and slid the door open. A gust of cold wind whistled through, making Saejima shiver.

“Come back alive!” Okudera said.

“I will,” Suzuki said, and the door slid shut.

For a moment Okudera stayed by the entrance. Then, with a heavy sigh, he returned to his cushion by the fire and settled down.

“He’ll be pissed that I’m telling you this,” Okudera said, “But Sa- Suzuki is like you.”

“Huh?”

“He escaped from Abashiri. Ten years ago.”

“Oh!” It made sense, then, why Okudera and Suzuki weren’t rushing to turn Saejima in - apparently Okudera had long ago made a decision about how to react to escaped convicts, and that reaction didn’t involve running to the police. It might have made Saejima suspicious, but he found he could only be grateful for the fact that the two men were generous enough - odd enough - to take in a man in prison garb without question, and even to go out after his comrade, in what sounded like dangerous conditions. “I’m really so grateful for all you’ve done,” Saejima said.

“Ha. What was I going to do, leave you to die?” Okudera dismissed. “Anyone would have done the same.” He got up again and walked over to the shelves on one side of the room. He rifled around, and Saejima heard clinking. Okudera returned with two cups in one hand and a bottle of Block Party bourbon dangling between the fingers of the other hand.

“I know just what you need,” he said, wiggling the bottle invitingly. “Nothing like a good drink to warm you up after a brush with death on the mountain.” He poured out two cups, and Saejima accepted gratefully.

The bourbon burned going down, but it set a welcome glow in Saejima’s chest.

Okudera took a long drink. “Ah,” he said appreciatively. “Bet you missed that in jail, huh?”

Saejima nodded. “Shit’s dehumanizing. No cigarettes, no booze, disgustin’ food.”

Okudera leaned forward. “Some guys get cigarettes and booze in jail, though.”

“Well, sure,” Saejima said. “But I was on my best behavior. Tryin’ to get out fast. Couldn’t break the rules except in real serious cases.”

“Were you in for a long time?” Okudera asked.

Saejima paused before answering. “I was in for a long time on false charges,” he said. “Then I was out for a bit. Then I was in for two years on true charges.”

“No shit? False charges?”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask-?”

“Murder,” Saejima said. “The real charge was on assault.”

Impressed, Okudera whistled. “I bet you’ve got a hell of a story, huh?”

“I’ll drink to that,” Saejima said, and finished his bourbon.

Okduera raised his cup and did likewise. After tossing back the rest of his drink, he refilled his cup halfway, and then, “That’s all,” he said, screwing the bottle shut. “I can’t get drunk while - Suzuki is up on the mountain. It doesn’t feel right.”

Saejima agreed. Intoxication would be a welcome respite from worry about Baba, but it wasn’t a respite Saejima would willingly seek. “Um, Okudera-han,” he said, “What do you think the chances are that Suzuki-han will find Baba?”

The look on Okudera’s face was full of sympathy, and it made Saejima’s heart sink. “He’ll definitely find him, I think,” Okudera said gently. “Just hope that your friend was able to find some kind of shelter, otherwise...”

Tears pricked at Saejima’s eyes. If only he hadn’t fallen unconscious after fighting the bear, he might have saved Baba himself. As it was - “How long has it been?” he asked. “Since you found me?”

“...You slept for a few hours after I got you back,” Okudera admitted. “But think on the bright side!” he exclaimed. “Sa- Suzuki wasn’t kidding when he said he’s fast, and he’s observant and tenacious as hell, too. There’s no one better to have looking for you if you’re in trouble on the mountain. So don’t you get all mopey on me, okay?”

“There’s also a demon bear out there, you said.”

“Uh, yeah.” Okudera raked a hand through his hair, nearly ruining the ponytail.

“It sure is dangerous up in the mountains,” Saejima said morosely.

Okudera sighed heavily. “Yeah. Shit.” A pause. He fidgeted, playing with his still half-full cup of bourbon. “Are you usually the responsible type or the impulsive type?”

“Uh... depends who I’m with,” Saejima replied. “Compared to some people I’m responsible, I guess, but plenty of folks seem to think I make dumb decisions, so-”

Okudera let out a sound of relief. “Oh, thank fuck,” he said. “So you wouldn’t stop me from going out after my hunting partner even though he told me not to?”

“...Nope.”

“Great.” Okudera slapped his knees and then rose. “I’m going after him. He might need help.” He bent back down to grab his cup, and threw back the remaining alcohol like a shot.

“Hey, Okudera-han, are you the type to stop me from taggin’ along to help my partner?”

“Ah...” Okudera paused in his flurry of activity, and his face twisted. “You really could die if you exert yourself too much right now,” he said regretfully. “Or get permanent tissue damage.”

“The booze thawed me out. You said so yourself.”

Still Okudera hesitated. “Suzuki would bite my ass off if I let you come with me,” he said at last. “He’s the responsible type through and through... most of the time. As much as I know he can handle himself, I can’t just sit on my ass while he might be facing off against that monster. But you’re another matter. I’d love to bring you with me, guns blazing and all, but it’s also true that having a novice with me will slow us way down-”

“Fine,” Saejima grunted in frustration. He didn’t like it, but Okudera was right. It was for the best, however painful, that Saejima sit here uselessly while Baba was rescued.

Okudera pulled on a blue parka and tied off the sleeves, then attached a fur cape across his shoulders with rope, the same as Suzuki had done.

“Suzuki-han said somethin’ about your back-?” Saejima broke in.

“I already took painkillers,” Okudera said. “I’ll be fine. And it’s not like your friend can possibly be as heavy as you... right?” Apprehension evident in his tone.

Saejima shook his head. “He’s a skinny guy, actually.”

“Good. That will be no problem, then.” Okudera fastened an ammo belt over his coat.

“Okay. Are you sure there ain’t anythin’ I can do to help?”

“Keep the hearth warm, I guess,” Okudera said distractedly, hopping around as he pulled on rubber boots. “Just stick some new logs in if it starts to burn too low. Oh, and you should put some proper clothes on, you’ll freeze if you stay in that dumb prison jumpsuit.”

“I don’t got a change of clothes,” Saejima said.

“You can wear some of my old stuff - in that basket.” Okudera pointed at it. “It should fit okay. By the way, I know you said you were on your best behavior, but do you have any contraband with you?”

“Contraband?”

“Like cigarettes or... other stuff. From jail. You know. Drugs.”

“Uh, I might have a few ibuprofen.

“Never mind, never mind,” Okudera said hurriedly. He straightened up and adjusted his pelt one last time before heading to the door and pulling the rifle from the upper set of hooks there. “Okay,” he said. “Wish me luck. For the bear and all, but also so that - Suzuki doesn’t get too pissed at me for disobeying orders.”

“Good luck,” Saejima said, and then with a stiff nod, Okudera was gone.

Saejima drummed his fingers on his knee. The wind whistled mournfully against the cracks of the door. Even near the fire it was a bit chilly, as he was dressed only in the thin prison uniform. He decided to get changed, as Okudera had suggested.

In the basket he was able to find a decent outfit. First thing, a pair of thick woollen socks. The black t-shirt was pretty tight and the pants were a little too short in the leg, but tucking them into the sturdy leather boots got rid of the problem just fine. Best of all, Saejima found a heavy parka with fur trim, and it was in army green - just his color. He happily slid it on, and it fit perfectly.

He started pacing the floor.

For a few minutes he walked around, examining the items hanging on the wall and stored carefully on the various shelves. He briefly picked up a book of poetry and flipped through it.

Then he ran out of self-control and walked out the door.

A helpful villager pointed him in the direction of the trailhead, and Saejima was soon heading uphill, the river rushing beside him. Snowflakes blew into his face, stinging his skin. He fumbled with the zipper on the jacket, but a few seconds made it clear that the zipper was broken. He gave up trying to close it, and began to walk faster. He couldn’t get frostbite if he wasn’t outside for long.

The wind was bitterly cold. After a few minutes Saejima’s face and neck went numb. He pulled the collar of the green parka closer around his throat and kept walking. Snow got into the top of his boots.

He was just beginning to think that maybe it was stupid to go up into the mountain completely unprepared and with no idea where he was going when he spied Okudera coming the other direction. He was hunched, and on his broad shoulders-

“Baba!” Saejima exclaimed, running harder to meet them. Baba was slung over Okudera’s back, looking frighteningly white and still. His lips were blue. “Baba! Is he-?”

“He’s alive,” Okudera said, stopping. There was a smear of blood at the corner of his mouth, above the scrubby beard. “But he’s in shit shape. And Sato’s in trouble.”

“Who?”

“Suzuki!” Okudera corrected hurriedly. “Sato is his given name. But never mind that! Now listen.” He spoke quickly. “Baba’s going to die if he doesn’t get to proper shelter fast. Really fast. So as much as I hate it, I have to be the one to take him back to the house. But Sat- Suzuki was attacked by that fucking bear and he’s holding it off for us.”

“Shit-”

“He can handle the fight, but he was injured and I’m worried about him getting back; Saejima, go find him - just follow the tracks. There isn’t anything an unarmed person can do against that thing, so don’t try to help Sato. Just don’t get in his way.”

“But you want me to help him get back?”

“Yes!” Okudera hefted Baba higher on his shoulders, and started walking sideways back towards the village. “He’s incredibly stubborn and he probably won’t want any support. But promise me you’ll at least take his arm! His side was all torn up - it looked deep-”

The frantic worry in Okudera’s voice was something Saejima was intimately familiar with, in the same way he was all too familiar with the problem of a companion who was unwilling to admit weakness or accept help.

“I promise!” Saejima said. “And - take good care of Baba-chan!”

With only a bob of the head for confirmation, Okudera turned away and headed off again. For a few seconds Saejima stood reluctantly watching him retreat into the falling snow with Baba’s body. Then Saejima turned around and set off again, following Okudera’s tracks.

After only a few more minutes of trudging through the snow, Suzuki appeared in the near distance. He was hunched in a sturdy shooting stance, and there was blood splattered all along the pelt he was wearing. As Saejima watched, a shot cracked out and an an unearthly roar emanated from somewhere beyond the haze of swirling snow, but not far enough for safety.

Suzuki split his gun open, deftly reloaded two bullets into the chambers, and in an instant had the gun braced on his shoulder, ready to shoot again.

“Suzuki-han!” Saejima called. “Suzuki-han!”

Suzuki’s attention only flickered towards Saejima for an instant, then the roar came out of the woods and Suzuki fired once more. There were parallel gashes carved in his cheek, no doubt a lucky outcome given that one swipe of a bear’s paw could take off a man’s face if he wasn’t fast enough.

“Stay back,” Suzuki said, not removing his eyes from the space between the trees where Yama-oroshi lurked just beyond eyesight. Saejima hovered anxiously behind Suzuki. The wind blew harder, and Saejima was racked with shivers he was unable to suppress.

“What are you doing here?” Suzuki said, still keeping his attention focused on the bear. “Return to the village.”

“But I promised-”

At that moment the unearthly roar came a third time, and Suzuki fired a third shot. This time Suzuki let out a short cry of triumph and stepped forward. “Ojisan is retreating! I can give chase,” he said, already starting in the direction from which the roar had emanated.

“Wait-” Saejima said desperately. “Suzuki-han, you’re already hurt and I promised Okudera-han I’d bring you back safe and sound. Can’t the bear wait?”

Suzuki wavered. “You promised?” he demanded.

Saejima nodded.

For another moment Suzuki stood still, frozen in mid-stride, gritting his teeth. Then he lowered the rifle. “Fine,” he said. “So Okudera and Baba got back okay?”

“I don’t know if they got all the way back, but they got to where I was, at least, yeah.”

“...That’s good,” Suzuki said. He eyed Saejima critically, lingering over his exposed face and neck. “Well, I guess we had better get back before you get all frostbitten again.”

Nodding, Saejima reached for Suzuki’s elbow, to support him.

As though he had been stung, Suzuki pulled his arm very far away, and fixed Saejima with a look that was at once questioning and accusatory, a how dare you?

“Okudera-han said I should help you walk...” Saejima explained.

“Tch. I’m not a senior citizen in a retirement home,” Suzuki said acerbically. “I carried your friend all the way down from the ice grove, I think I’m capable of walking on my own-” At that moment Suzuki bent double in pain and let out a cough, and a trickle of blood made its way down his chin, stark against the light grey stubble.

“Hell,” Saejima said worriedly. “You got internal bleedin’ or somethin’, Suzuki-han. We gotta get you to a doctor.”

Suzuki hissed through his teeth. “It’s not that serious,” he said jerkily. “I just-” He swayed on his feet and Saejima leapt forward to catch his arm.

“You got like this protectin’ my friend, now let me help,” Saejima insisted. “Okudera-han said you were stubborn, but if I’d known you were gonna be this stubborn I woulda conked you on the head five minutes ago so that you’d come quietly.”

“I just bit my tongue in half when I tripped over a rock while trying to keep my eye on the bear and carry your friend,” Suzuki snapped. “I don’t think I have internal bleeding.” He spat a gob of bloody saliva onto the ground, shook off Saejima’s grip once more, took a few steps back towards the village, and keeled over face-first into the snow.

Saejima rushed to his side and helped him up. This time Suzuki didn’t complain.

“Now, where are you hurt, Suzuki-han?”

With a grunt Suzuki gestured at his right side, under the ribs. Saejima stepped around to the right, and wound his arm around Suzuki’s waist on the uninjured side. Suzuki held onto Saejima’s left shoulder. Suzuki was a good fifty centimeters shorter than Saejima, so the position was awkward, but it would work. Carrying Suzuki would have been easier, but Saejima didn’t want to know how that suggestion would have gone over. The man was - independent, to put it politely.

In silence save for Suzuki’s ragged breaths, they made their way back down the mountain to the village.

Finally they reached the house. Saejima helped Suzuki up the stairs, and then slid the door open and all at once they were enveloped by the warmth of the indoors.

“Ah!” Okudera exclaimed in the tone of a very relieved grandmother. He leapt up and came rushing over to them and began to fuss over Suzuki. “Thank the fucking mountain gods! How are you doing, Sato?” he said.

There was a pause wherein Suzuki (Sato?) gave Okudera a truly icy glare.

“Ahaha!” Okudera laughed fakely. “You’re so formal, Suzuki, what does it matter if I use your given name around Saejima-san? He doesn’t care, do you, Saejima?”

“Uh, no, it’s fine,” Saejima said, gladly relinquishing the ornery Suzuki to Okudera’s care.

Saejima kicked off his boots and went to Baba’s side.

Okudera and Suzuki had begun whispering furiously by the door, but Saejima could only focus on Baba. He lay stretched out beside the fire on his back, the same heavy quilt that had kept Saejima warm pulled up to his chin. Baba’s face remained very pale, but there were spots of red on his cheeks and his lips were no longer blue. Saejima hoped it was a good sign.

“Hang in there, Baba-chan,” he muttered. “You’re safe now. You just focus on recoverin’.”

Behind him, Okudera and Suzuki had moved onto the wooden floor and were bickering about how to treat Suzuki’s wounds.

“Don’t cut the shirt,” Suzuki was saying in annoyance. “I don’t want to have to mend it again, I can get it off - fuck!” The phrase ended in a hiss of pain.

“I’ll mend it,” Okudera said, and then there was a loud ripping noise, a cry of dismay from Suzuki, and a string of grumbling.

Saejima looked over to see Suzuki sitting shirtless with Okudera dabbing at the place on his side where Yama-oroshi’s claws had raked across his ribs. It looked like some fabric and bits of fur from Suzuki’s outerwear had been embedded in the wound. Saejima grimaced and quickly looked away.

He gently took one of Baba’s frostbitten hands in his own and held it, careful not to rub against the damaged skin. For a few minutes he just sat there, trying to convey strength via telepathy into Baba’s body. It was Saejima’s fault that Baba had almost died; Baba was shorter than Saejima, so Saejima might have put him in front on the snowmobile. And after the crash, Saejima should have defeated that bear faster, saved his energy for searching for Baba -

A creak on the floorboards announced Okudera’s arrival behind Saejima. Saejima didn’t take his eyes off Baba’s face: the peaceful expression, the brush of dark eyelashes against his cheeks. Saejima couldn’t wait for him to wake up and show life, for him to smile or for his brow to furrow in thought.

“He should pull through,” Okudera said. “Suzuki found him just in time.” The last sentence was said with a little bit of pride evident in the tone, pride in his partner’s skill.

“Yeah,” Saejima said. “I don’t know how to thank you two enough. By rights you shoulda just called up Abashiri to take us back. But I’m grateful.”

“Oh, well...” Okudera said. “We don’t have a phone, so...” He laughed. Then, “Suzuki,” he called over his shoulder, moving back to his fireside cushion, “Come eat something.”

Suzuki - now wearing a black zip-up fleece that was much too big for him - came over and sat down stiffly, his mouth set tight with the sternness of a person concealing pain. “Not really hungry,” he mumbled.

“I know,” Okudera said, rubbing his shoulder. “I know. Just please eat? It’s after lunchtime. And you’ve been through a lot.”

With a grunt Suzuki shook off Okudera’s hand and bent forward to serve a small bowl of stew. Okudera sat down comfortably beside him and filled up his own bowl when Suzuki was done.

“You should eat, too, Saejima,” Okudera said around a mouthful of food. “It’s even better now. It gets more tender the longer you simmer it. Right, Sa- Suzuki?”

“Yes,” Suzuki said briefly before continuing to eat in silence.

With reluctance Saejima turned away from Baba’s prone form and faced the fire. He accepted a bowl of stew and chopsticks from Okudera.

“How’s Suzuki-han?” he asked, judging that it would be more productive to ask Okudera than Suzuki himself.

“He’s a tough bastard,” Okudera said fondly. “He’ll be fine. Right, Suzuki?”

Suzuki just grunted again.

“Though I guess he won’t be as pretty from now on-” Okudera went to wipe a thumb alongside one of the gashes on Suzuki’s cheek, but Suzuki flinched away.

“Stop it,” he hissed at Okudera.

Okudera drew away, looking hurt and offended. Suzuki turned to Saejima.

“Saejima,” he said. “You escaped from Abashiri. What were you in for?”

“He was in for assault,” Okudera said, definitely sounding annoyed.

“Oh?” Suzuki said coldly, still directing his attention at Saejima. “What kind of assault?”

“Brawlin’, I guess,” Saejima said. He couldn’t remember the details of what precisely he had agreed to get nailed on. “I got into a lotta fights on the street.”

“And what about your friend there? Baba?”

Saejima paused. “That ain’t my place to say,” he said. “I’ll just tell you that he went in young, when he was just twenty, and he wasn’t actin’ of his own volition, really.”

Unexpectedly Okudera’s face lit up. “He’s a yakuza?” he asked excitedly. “He did a hit for the yakuza, right?” He pulled excitedly on Suzuki’s sleeve. “A hit for the yakuza, Suzuki!”

Again Suzuki shook him off with a growl of frustration. “Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

Okudera deflated, but only a little. “Well, it’s interesting, because-”

“-Well, this stew sure hit the spot-” Suzuki said loudly.

“-We’re yakuza too! Or, we were.”

“For fuck’s sake!” Suzuki cried, banging his bowl down on the floor. “Okudera, what is the matter with you?”

“What’s the matter with you?” Okudera shot back. “You haven’t been this wound up for years, you’re giving me war flashbacks to when you were fucking-”

“Enough!” Suzuki said. “Enough! Fucking enough!” And then, dangerously polite, “Okudera, could we speak outside, please?” He stood up and left.

Saejima, who had been following the exchange with the enraptured bafflement of a dog at a baseball game, watched the door slide shut with a bang.

“Uh, sorry about that, Saejima,” Okudera said, rising to his feet. “The wife is being pissy again. I’d better deal with it. Let’s show each other our tattoos later, yeah?” Without waiting for an answer he followed Suzuki outside.

the end, for now

thank you for reading. please let me know what you thought, especially any questions you have - theres a lot here that is not stated overtly so im interested to know if its coming across properly. im not sure where or how far ill go with this WIP but i wrote it up because i came up with the whole thing one night while i couldnt sleep, and since it existed it would be a shame not to instantiate it in writing and throw it at some people..

[yelenasdog]

romance and espionage (eggsy unwin x fem reader)

genre: fluff w/ whole lotta angst

summary: who knew names could be such a touchy subject?

words: 2.4k

warnings: literally saying fuck everyother sentence, kissing, golden circle spoilers (is that a thing? idk), mentions of harry’s supposed death, mentions of roxy’s death, guns, and i think thats it.

ok, all my cm moots don’t judge me. 

a/n: ight so uhh as i’m posting this i’m finding out taron is an incel so that’s kinda oW but uhh i haven’t seen the secret service, i just rewatched the golden circle the other night and hyperfixated on taron so... uh here’s this LMAO. also! this takes place after the golden circle, and reader took roxy’s spot as lancelot. ok enjoy!!

♔♂♔

“God, Eggsy, would you quiet down?!”

He snarled meanly in a way that could make Bennie and Jet’s metallic forms cower in fear, his thin lips turning into a grimace.

“Don't call me that here. It’s Galahad, and Galahad only.”

The other agent only scoffed, rolling her eyes.

Lancelot’s surroundings were dark, although quite stunning nonetheless. It was clear and starry night sky, perfect for romance, the worst for espionage. The air felt so refreshing on her skin, allowing her to feel free in some way, even just for a moment, which she savoured, as a feeling such as that was rare in her line of work.

Now, if the girl had been with someone other than the annoying, prickish, and (even though it pained her to the highest degree to say it) handsome fellow, she maybe would have tried to have a little fun to pass the time. Maybe fool around a bit, fraternize with a coworker, eh?

But alas, ever the one with amazing luck, she was stuck with him. 

Which meant rather than perhaps getting crescent shaped markings on her hips from a quick rondevu under the indigo sky and sparkling stars, so roughly placed to match the moon that hung in it, she was crouching uncomfortably, only wishing that the former scenario was taking place.

 Not that she meant with fucking Eggsy, of course.

Well ok, maybe, just a tad.

“Fine, have it your way, Galahad.” She flailed her arms about in a jazz hand motion, making the blondy roll his twinkly eyes in a boyish manner. She fought the urge to grin widely, a warm feeling blooming in her chest, even at his obvious arrogance and upset towards her.

She wanted to blame his feelings towards her on her being a freshmen agent, recruited right after the convergence of Kingsman and Statesman in an effort to rebuild the organization. She had been childhood friends with Roxy, who had long ago tried to get Y/n to join the agency. When faced with her friend’s death, she wanted to honor her wishes, even if this wish was a little, well, extreme.

He only sighed in response to Y/n, tapping the side of his thick rimmed glasses twice.

Y/n’s eyes followed his hands as he did so, enjoying what she was seeing a great amount. She bit her bottom lip subconsciously, losing all focus that was there to begin with.

“Lancelot? Lancelot? For fucks sake, Y/n!”

She snapped her head up, her eyes becoming magnified even further through the faux tortoise shell glasses that Unwin would never admit framed her face wonderfully.

No, not a chance.

He wouldn’t dare even let the thought about how the soft skin of her freckled nose looked even more kissable, her eyes even more full of depth and wonder, or how kind and sweet she looked when she tucked a stray strand of hair away from her face. All because of the damned glasses. Never.

So rather, he settled for pointing over to where the subject of their stakeout was now standing, gun in hand as he conversed with one of his comrades.

But although her body followed his, listening to his directions, most of the information was going in one ear out the other, her brilliant mind occupied by a certain agent and his endeavors.

She was hard in thought, wondering about names of all things. A simple subject, easy to address, you would think. But apparently it was not so, not at all.

You see, Eggsy never had called Y/n by her name. It was always either “Lancelot”, or “Agent”, Y/n only being used for the exception of if he needed to quickly grab her attention.

And on the flip side, she was never allowed to call him anything other than Galahad. Agent was sparse, it put her on very thin ice, close to splitting at any second with no prior notice.

Now obviously, with Y/n being Y/n, she was determined to crack his rough exterior, despite however much he presented himself as “unbreakable”. (His words, not hers.) So, much to his displeasure, she often called out a quick “Oi, Unwin!”, or a “Jesus, Eggsy!” whenever he got in her way, which usually resulted in a similar distasteful glance to what she was recieving now being shot in her direction.

“Alright, Eggsy, I’m thinking that his partner is-“ She used her glasses X-Ray feature, confirming her suspicions. “The partner is in the abandoned pharmacy across the street, should we wait or go now?” He was silent, staring straight ahead, scrutinizing nothing in particular with a stare that was set in stone. 

She whistled lowly, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Eggsyyy-“

“Lancelot, would you shut the hell up! Don’t fucking call me that!” He stood up, leaving a vulnerable feeling Y/n in his wake.

Y/n’s jaw was suddenly like it was wired shut. She was paralyzed, unable to speak, only keeping her gaze fixated on Galahad.

“Look, I’m sorry-“

“Yeah, well good, then! When will you ever learn, we’re not friends, nor will we ever be. Get it through you’re fuckin’ head. It’s like you think you’re Roxy or some shit-“

Sadness and guilt turned to anger rather quickly for Y/n at his unfortunate choice of words.

“Stop it! Would you please, just stop it! For fucks sake!” Her voice was harsh, something he never would had never expected out of Y/n. Tears sprung into her eyes, and her teeth sunk into her bottom lip, no doubt drawing crimson liquid in the process. She tasted iron on her tongue, feeling it seep into her taste buds.

“Lancelo-“

“Fucking hell, shut the fuck up! Really, please, Galahad, listen to me, for once in your life.” She was the one who shot up, inching closer to him with every word. The sticks and leaves crunched under her feet, causing her to cringe at the sound, hoping it didn’t alert the targets.

He nodded solemnly, his jaw locking up, and his hands she had been admiring only seconds before clamped into fists at his sides.

She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, Harry’s words of “remember your training” ringing through her head. She internally began chanting it like a mantra of sorts.

But if she was being honest, she couldn't quite remember a chapter in the Kingsman handbook (that she most definitely did read during training) that talked about emotional distress due to your coworker who you’re extremely attracted to calling you only by your dead best friend's name, but hey, who knows.

“I know I'm not Roxy. Nobody else could ever be Roxy. I know that, you know that, hell, she knew that. And I would say that you have no idea how it feels to be reminded of one of your closest friends who is dead every time someone calls you by a name that feels as if it isn’t your own, but you do, Galahad. Or you did. But now Harry is back and- and Roxy, well Roxy is gone!”

A single tear slipped out of her left eye. The agent in front of her felt a strong urge wipe away the tears he now felt guilty for playing a large part in. But he resisted, his hands remaining stuck to his side.

“So why would you do this? Say these things, act this way, when you know I have to live every day with you for some reason calling me Lancelot in every situation and me having to call you Galahad all the same! Maybe I shouldn’t have stepped up to be Lancelot when Roxy was killed, if I can’t handle it, can’t handle the dehumanization that comes with only being known as an emotionless fuckin’ agent to you.” 

She stopped, hanging her head. She looked over to the flickering neon lights of the pharmacy, watching the outlines of the targets move around.

“I honestly have no idea if any of that made sense, or if I’m just rambling, I don’t fucking have the slightest idea what the fuck I’m even doing anymore.” Her voice got significantly more quiet, her sentences reduced to mumbles.

Aside from the target and his partners yelling at each other, it was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

His usually stern tone he took with the girl was softer now as he spoke, “You made perfect sense.”

She gave him a half smile before continuing, feeling oddly validated by his words. 

“But what I’m trying to say, Galahad, is that I’m a fucking human being. I have a life outside of this Godforsaken job, and-and emotions, too! I mean, I might even have kids that you don’t know about!”

He internally rolled his eyes, yet again fighting another urge, this time to smile widely at Y/n. Weird.

“Do you have kids I don’t know about-“

“Of course I don’t!”

They shared a short laugh as their words overlapped, harmonizing in a sweet way, their voices like thick and golden honey. Weird.

The two were then succumbed to a blanket of comfortable silence, but only for a short moment before the hushed whispers of Unwin’s voice were heard.

“D’you wanna know why?”

Y/n cocked her head, beckoning him to go on with whatever it was he was going to say. “Why what?”

“Why I only call you Lancelot, why I don’t let you call me Eggsy.”

She nodded, sitting down once more and tucking her leg under her chin in a manner that Eggsy found endearing and adorable. It distracted him slightly, but not long enough for his starry eyed staring to become creepy. Not that Y/n would have it in her capacity to ever think that of him, if she was being honest.

“If I start to think of you as ‘Y/n’, rather than Lancelot things get too real. If you hurt, o-or if you get kidnapped, or God forbid- die.” He momentarily paused, looking up to meet Y/n’s eyes.

“It would make it all too real. I can’t do that, Y/n. After what happened to Harry and then Roxy, and everyone else,” he shook his head, his expression showing him close to crying at the thought of what he was speaking of.

“I can’t lose you too.”

It was like her soul had become visibly lighter, feeling an unimaginable relief flood throughout her system at his proclamation. She was able to come down from her, so to say, “high” almost as soon as she had started it, placing her hands on his, using them as leverage to pull herself up.

“You can’t be so afraid, Galahad. You gotta, you know,” she shrugged, offering him a small smile.

“Live a little.” She moved to look down to meet his eyes where his head was suspended in shame, forcing him to look back up.

“And also, try not to let your fear turn you into a dick, which is by all means just a suggestion.” Y/n laughed at the last bit, smiling and glancing to the side slightly.

They both shared a second laugh together, and it seemed as if for a short while, time stopped. It was just the two of them, features illuminated by the pale moonlight. No target, no saving the world, nothing. Just them. 

So he reached forward, unsure if what he was doing was the right thing, just like always. The damn question of righteousness was engrained in his brain, restricting him like it did majority of the time. But for once, he decided to disregard it in it’s entirety.

So throwing all caution to the wind, unable to contain himself any longer, he closed the small gap left between the two, connecting their lips in a long awaited kiss.

One of his hands flew to the side of her face, the other wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer with a squeal. He laughed into the union, and she only smiled. One of her hands went to entangle itself with his on her waist, the other resting on his shoulder.

She could smell his cologne that he most definitely should not have been wearing per Kingsman on the job regulations, and welcomed the scent, doing her best to commit it to memory, a permanent reminder of what it felt like to be so close to the man.

After what seemed like a long time (but never long enough, honestly) they pulled away, panting for breath. Their foreheads rested on each other’s, the cool night air flowing around them, calming the pair completely.

Still struggling to catch his breath, Eggsy reached forward, taking both of her hands. He ran small circles over her knuckles in a way that made her heart flutter, before dropping them gently, reaching a hand out.

“Let's start over.”

She giggled and widely grinned, and he swore it was becoming his favorite thing in existence when she would do either of those wondrous things.

“Come on, put her there.” He shook his hand slightly making a silly face as well, widening his eyes and looking back and forth from his hand and her face. She placed it in his, proudly smirking as she did so. Their shiny rings clanged, which resulted in another small giggle errupting from her throat.

 He shook it back and forth, a sly smile painting itself on his lips. 

“Pleasure to meet you, Eggsy Unwin.”

She quirked an eyebrow, retracting her hand momentarily, letting it linger in the air.

“Eggsy, hmm? Bit of an odd name, don’t you think?”

He scoffed, placing his hand over his heart in false offense.

“Well if it’s so bad, what’s yours then?”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

He looked to his feet momentarily, lifting his hands on either side of his head. “I digress, you win.”

She bit her bottom lip again, wincing as she hit the same spot from before. She ran her tongue over it, breathing out quickly.

“I’m not so sure. I think Eggsy is growing on me.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.”

They smiled at each other like lovesick teenagers, still lost within the moment.

And although the bubble of ignorant bliss they were in was something the two of them never wanted to leave, it was sadly inevitable that it would be popped at some point in time.

And almost like an alarm to wake them up from a beautiful dream, gunfire was able to be heard ringing throughout the building across the way.

They pulled apart with a groan coming from Y/n, and a “For fucks sake” from Eggsy. With displeasure lacing their expressions, they began to run towards the pharmacy when Y/n felt a hand tug at her wrist.

“Y/n wait!”

Her eyes widened as she looked at him as if he was a mad man, only slowing to a backwards jog. She gestured around her to the burst of red and orange explosions that were now going off around her, screaming “What?!”

He sprinted to catch up with her forcing her to come to a complete stop with a firm hold on her shoulders.

“Eggsy, come on! Lets go- Ah!”

He cut her off with a firm kiss, gripping the sides of her head, scrunching his fingers in her hair. She let a small moan slip out at the feeling, which he responded to by chuckling. He then pulled away, a shit eating grin written on his face. 

She stood in shock, unable to move from her place. He started running, turning over his shoulder.

“Come on, Y/n, keep up!”

Not focusing on where he was going, he tripped over himself, letting out a small yell of surprise. Y/n laughed loudly, going to chase after him with a miniscule shake of her head at his antics.

But nonetheless, the only thing going through Y/n’s mind during that situation that should have been horrifying, was that maybe she was wrong all this time.

Romance and espionage did go well together, especially when it was with Y/n and Eggsy.

♔♂♔

hello!!! so this was a multi-fandom account to begin with anyways so honestly i feel like i should start a seperate masterlist for “hj’s hyperfixations”. but yah this was my first fic for him and idk if i’ll do another but i hope u enjoyed this! also it’s my bday tomorrow (sept 7th) so this is a self indulgent fic. as a treat. ok love u bye!

xx hj

also avery asked me to tag her so @spideyspencer​ LMAO i’m so sorry for this mess.

[emachinescat]

II've decided to watch MacGyver from the beginning (again), and I'm live tweeting the experience with every tweet tagged with #savemacgyver. I thought it would be fun to share my collected thoughts from the episodes on here as well.

My Thoughts on S1E3, "Awl"

You're not only going to make it to 30, Mac, but you're going to make it to season 6. #savemacgyver

I love that Jack's bucket list includes finishing the Harry Potter books. Guess he's not a one-trick pony after all with sci-fi. A healthy blend of science fiction and fantasy is just what the doctor ordered.

Dylan Thomas reference! That poem was written about the poet's own father, and is about how everyone, no matter who they are or what they stand for, fights against death in the end. He's begging his dad to "rage, rage against the dying of the light," to not give in to death so easily, to keep fighting. Just taught this poem, actually, so I'm vibing with this reference super hard. Though to be fair, I'd be vibing with it anyway. Love Dylan Thomas.

Oh my gosh, this is the one with the fire extinguisher and inflatable escape! I'd forgotten which episode that came from, but I see GIFs of it all over Tumblr. Poor Mac especially, that looks like it hurts. Why is Lucas Till so good at being whumped?!

Jack hugging the fire extinguisher: Iconic.

I'll never get tired of seeing that polar bear! Do we know if he has a name?

I cannot get over how small and excited Bozer is, not a care in the world except for his movie. It's exciting to think about what's to come for his character growth, though I do wish he wouldn't have to go through all the things he does. :(

Jack's conversations with his dad at the grave are just everything. And I feel cheated that we haven't gotten to see Mac have the same kind of conversations at Jack's grave (though I firmly believe it's a regular occurrence off-screen).

Seriously, the way he talks to his dad is so familiar, so comfortable, so natural. It's like Daddy Dalton is right there with him and it fills me with so many emotions that I can't even.

The smile on Jack's face and the pride in his voice when he talks about Mac to his dad is the purest thing ever.

Also, that's a big-ass tombstone Jack is leaning against.

"Hi, Mr. Dalton. How's... life?" MAC! 😂

I can't tell you how much I love it when other characters talk about how smart Mac is. "He's a genius..."

First mention of Mac's dad. It's sweet how invested Jack is in Mac rebuilding his relationship with his old man. Also, I really wish we would have gotten a flashback of Jack's dad at some point. He seems like such an amazing man.

"If I could have one more day to sit and talk to my dad instead of that hunk of rock, I'd do anything." Jaaaaaaack 😭😭😭

Good old Ralph Kastrati. Single-handedly the most annoying character in all of cable television. Y'all have no idea what you're getting into with this one, dream team.

PUNCHFACE.

"My mom dated a guy like that once." Ouch. I'm about to start a Riley Zinger Counter for each episode. Her comebacks are 🔥

It's not just his face, Jack. Everything about this dude is punchable. Especially the way he says "yo."

Ewwww tightie whities no thanks imma head hom now byyye

Mac just snatched that can right out of Jack's hand as he was about to take a drink. Classic.

If I didn't hate Ralph before (spoiler: I did), then I extra hate him for the foie gras comment.

Yes, Jack, "asshat" is the perfect descriptor for this guy.

Is Mac seriously about to just make him some noise-canceling headphones? Who am I kidding? Of course he is.

I need more of Mac punching people in the face. For science.

Poor Jack didn't get to punch the punch face.

🎵 Snipers gonna snipe, snipe, snipe, snipe, snipe 🎵

Between the foie gras and the calfskin, they are really making this guy so easy to hate just sayin'.

"As soon as you're done saving his life, I'm gonna kill him, you hear that, smart-ass? I'm already dressed for the funeral." 🤣🤣🤣🤣

"He's g-good. He just... got kinda shot." Is that the medical terminology, Mac?

Jack using country music as a form of torture 🤣

"You're going to be seeing Yelp stars if you don't shut up!"

Have I mentioned how much I love the music in this show?

"I don't wanna die listening to country music!"

I love how bossy and grabby Mac gets when he improvises.

Another belt grab! I can’t get over Jack trying to keep his crazy partner from falling out of the window – it gives me life!

Actually makes me wonder if he does it because Mac’s taken a tumble out of a car window before. *fanfic brain engaged*

“You know how I feel about your puns.” C’mon, Mac, pus are the greatest forms of humor, bar-pun. (Geddit?)

Mc made a C in biology? I’m not buying it.

Dwwwwwww the sounds of the surgery. No thanks.

Though I will say this is one of the coolest (albeit grossest) things Mac’s ever done on this show.

What the heck is with that elevator door? It took a whole 10 years to close! I wouldn’t trust it. (To be fair, I don’t trust any elevator, but that’s neither here nor there.)

Sir Bleeds-a-Lot lol

Riley stepping in and taking charge once again. No idea how these two functioned before she came along.

Some seriously cool MacGyverisms in this episode. The whole process of “killing” Ralph and bringing him back with office supplies is so OG MacGyver and it gives me all the warm fuzzies.

Ralph: “You’re not a scientist, you’re not a doctor. So how the hell do you know all this stuff?” Mac: “...I read a lot of books?” I love Mac so much.

“Now go die.” Lolololol

The moment with Ralph wanting to call his mom and grow the hell up is surprisingly genuine and heartbreaking. Character development for a character in only one episode, hello, is that you?

“He’s dead, but he’ll get better.” MacGyver, 2016

Riley’s comeback about Jack’s plan to take out six guys if Mac takes out two is another winner. (Riley: 2, Jack: 0) Still, I love the whole, “Sure it does [count as a plan]. First, I’ll take two. Then, I’ll take the other four.” This is why Mac is the plan guy, not Jack.

“Or I can take them all out.” Mac’s confidence = 🔥

I might need to start a Mac sass counter too. Jack: “You seriously want me to put this on my face?” Mac: “Only if you like breathing.”

Jack’s left fist getting jealous 🤣

They really liked choking Mac in the early episodes, didn’t they? Not that I’m complaining. Actually, why did that stop? That strangled, panicked cry of “JACK?!” is music to my fanfic writing, hurt/comfort obsessed, whump-loving soul.

That cough - it actually hurts me to hear it! They should have given us some more repercussions or aftercare for Mac breathing in that gas!

Ralph fell asleep. Of course.

“You know, it’s weird. I’m glad he’s alive… but I still want to kill him. 🤣 I’m with Jack on this one!

Ralph: “A fresh start. I could use one of those right?” Riley: “Or a whole new personality.” ZZZING!!! Riley: 1 million, the world: -10

Oh he did not just call Riley “little hottie.” I’m back to wanting to kill him, character development be darned. So diminutive, dehumanizing, and objectifying. This guy has more than won the douchebag lottery. Riley can more than stick up for herself, but still. The way he speaks to her here makes me feel all kinds of gross.

He just said “ya heard” unironically. Can we let Jack punch him now, please?

Jack offering to let Ralph keep the cash he lifted if he gets to punch him is great, but even better is Mac and Riley offering to chip in money for The Cause.

Oh, yeah, Bozer was in this episode. I’m excited for when he is utilized more!

Bozer’s monster Mac is nightmare fuel!

“A letter? That you put in the mail? It’s 2016.” Hey, as someone who has an actual, old-school type pen pal, step off, Jack.

Mac: “You just gonna watch?” Jack, offended: “Not anymore.” How is it Jack is like Mac’s dad but they also bicker like 5-year-olds? This relationship is so strange, so wonderful, and the heart of the show in so many ways. I love them.

Mac’s words of wisdom about the nature of life are actually super encouraging and exactly what I needed to hear today.

I’d forgotten how much I love this episode – t’s so fun! Although the Codex storyline in season 4 is probably my favorite plot-wise, coming back to these early episodes is like a breath of fresh air! Excellent, excellent episode with so much to offer!

What are your thoughts on "Awl?" I'd love to discuss! :)

[bittykimmy13]

The Candescent King (GT Story)

Premise: Sequel to "The Clandestine Queen". Andres returns to the hotel and is forced to confront the reality of Lorelei's life as a trinket.

Hi, I am now fully obsessed with Andres and Lorelei and I would die for them.

Warnings: dehumanization and threat of sexual assault

The print / trinket universe belongs to me and the lovely @little-miss-maggie​ / @marydublin5​ <3 Y’all have her to thank for the ending scene! The story almost ended much differently :’)

(( Read more about the print and trinket universe here! ))

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ *~ *

 He had certain expectations when he returned to the Onyx Citadel Hotel for the fourth time in two years. It was nightfall when he arrived. The lobby was decorated tastefully in black-and-white to honor the winter tournament. He headed straight for his suite rather than stop and interact with the other arriving players. As expected, the staff had already dropped off his belongings in the room.

However, she was not there.

He had known this day would come eventually, so why was there an involuntary chill running down his spine when he thought of the most obvious answer for her absence?

Moving mechanically, he went for the door. He had to be certain.

The elevator ride down, his thoughts were an odd mix of racing and frozen. He wasn't upset, he assured himself. He had no reason to be. They had both known this day would come, so why did it bother him so much? He battled his confusion as he made his way through the lobby. In the center, he saw some familiar tournament players gathered around a chessboard loaded with trinkets. He averted his eyes, striding for the front desk.

"May I help you, sir?" asked the woman behind the counter.

"Where is the trinket?"

Her friendly smile wavered with confusion. "I'm sorry?"

He sighed. "I don't recognize you. My name is Andres Soto. I have competed in the last three semi-annual tournaments. The staff knows to place the trinket known as Queenie in my room along with my luggage. But she is not there."

"Oh! Aren't you the reigning champion?" When he didn't respond, she pursed her lips and frowned in thought. "Queenie... The orange-haired gal? I apologize, sir, but she isn't available."

The chill in his spine should have dissipated now that he had an answer. But it stayed locked in place. "I see."

"Shall I put in a request at the bar to have another trinket sent to your room, Mr. Soto?"

"No." Andres started to pull away, but he supposed he owed it to Lorelei to at least ask. "Tell me what happened to her. A careless guest?"

The woman blinked, then gave a startled laugh. "She's not dead, Mr. Soto! She's just occupied."

Relief and frustration mingled in his gut. "Occupied? Why wasn't she sent to my room?"

"I'm terribly sorry. There was a massive change in management and employment in the past couple of months. I suppose whoever was making your... trinket arrangements must not have passed on the instructions. I'll be sure to let the bar and restaurant know that Queenie will be prioritized to you once she's available."

"You're going to make me wait," he deadpanned rather than asked. You know I'm the champion, and you're denying my request? He clenched his jaw to keep the comment in. It would only cause problems. His tone and expression, however, worked wonders.

Her voice became even more placating as she pointed across the lobby. "If you'd like to see her, she should be right over there," she said.

Andres shoved himself away from the front desk without another word and approached the small group gathered around the center board that had been set up. Two players, three eager observers. Plenty of room for him to see. He walked up with his hands in his pockets, eyeing the board with a sneer. He had made it a point to never be in the vicinity of a game of trinket chess, and it looked precisely the way he had imagined.

It was the most trinkets he had ever seen gathered so close together. Thirty-two were on the table, each of them scantily clothed in colors that reflected their team and designated piece. Red pawns. Yellow rooks. Green knights. Blue bishops. Purple royalty.

In no time at all, his eyes zeroed in on Lorelei. She was the queen, naturally, wearing sheer black lingerie with purple accents.

And she spotted him, too. He suspected she would be smart and pretend not to recognize him, but to his surprise, she threw a minuscule hand over her head and waved it enthusiastically. Her stance was unsteady, a carefree grin plastered on her face.

Drunk.

"Hey!" she called. "Tall, dark, and scary! Hi! I had a dream about you the other night!"

Very drunk.

The players and the small audience followed her gaze with confusion. Their eyes widened when they realized who had come to observe them. He gave the faintest nod of acknowledgment, ignoring Lorelei's whoops for attention.

"Gentlemen," he murmured.

"Soto." Theo Jackson, the man playing black, did not bother hiding the irk on his face. Andres couldn't blame him; coming in 2nd place twice in a row did that to a person. "Thought you'd decide this little tournament was below your rating by now. What are you still doing, coming back here?"

Andres shrugged. "I like to win. But don't mind me. Carry on."

They settled back into the game. He tried to watch with a neutral expression, but at least any visible disgust on his face was to be expected from him. Lorelei was a mess, nearly stumbling into the neighboring square every time the board was jostled by the players' movements. The bishop beside her kept grabbing her arm to steady her.

The trinkets were plucked up and moved like pieces. Each one of them looked either frightened or entirely checked-out. But when they were captured by the opposing side and taken off the board, their relief was visible. That was, except for the pieces Jackson captured. His hands had a tendency to wander to his captured pieces while he thought of his next move.

Being the queen, Lorelei was likely to be in the game for the long haul. Andres thought about walking away. The front desk woman had promised the trinket would be delivered to him later, but something kept him rooted there. It was a strange stab of betrayal, having gotten to know her and now seeing her debase herself. It wasn't her fault, but he had the urge to correct obscenity nonetheless. Especially considering how hell-bent she seemed on getting herself killed.

"Psst." She turned around and waved both hands up at Jackson. "Listen! You've got an opening right there, and you don't see it, do you? You're blowing it. Move me to A4, c'mon!"

"Shut the fuck up." Jackson forcefully turned her back around and flicked her between the shoulder blades, sending her onto her hands and knees.

The bishop gasped and leaned down to check if she was alright.

"No, don't help her," Jackson snapped. The bishop straightened immediately. "Little bitch needs to learn her place."

Lorelei's shoulders wracked and she caught her breath. Andres was a live wire of tension, trying to talk himself down from lunging in and taking her away. The tension eased as she stood up and rolled her shoulders as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, the player on white looked remarkably nervous, staring at the board and obviously mapping out the plan Lorelei had offered.

Jackson went quiet, doing the same. Then he snorted, "Whaddaya know." He plucked up Lorelei and moved her to A6. The game was over in less than three moves after that.

Lorelei was the piece to catch the king in checkmate. She skipped over and looped her arm in his, raising her eyebrows at Jackson. "See? What did I tell you?"

"That's not right," the other player spat. "You had help!"

Jackson scoffed. "As if this was a real match. Besides, are you insinuating that a fucking trinket helped me? I was going to move her there anyway."

"Fuck you, I was about to have you cornered." The other player stood up and stormed off. He wouldn't last long in the tournament with a blatant temper like that.

"Who's next?" Jackson declared.

"I am," Andres said before anyone had time to take a breath.

He slid into the seat, glancing down as the pieces dutifully rearranged themselves where they belonged. Lorelei stumbled back to her spot and smiled right at him. At least she didn't wave or yell for him. He had seen her on a board plenty of times, facing him, but never like this. He could see the trinkets on his side casting wary glances up over their shoulders at him, trying to get a read on their current master. One split second of eye contact was all it took to make them face forward again.

Lorelei, in her idiotic state, turned to face Jackson and planted a hand on her hip. "I hope you're ready to get your ass whupped," she said.

His expression darkened, and Andres wouldn't have been surprised if she was broken in half right then and there. But Jackson slid a smirk to Andres. "Am I sensing some history here? Oh, Soto. You've always acted like some kind of moral paragon. No wonder you turn down every drink with a trinket. You've only got eyes for this little bite, huh?"

Andres regarded him coolly. "She was delivered to my room one night against my wishes and has plagued me ever since. Are we playing or not?"

"No one's stopping you from starting."

Sighing, Andres leaned forward and studied the untouched board. He knew Jackson's strategies well enough to put him away swiftly, but he would need a different approach this time. His hand automatically reached for the board, but he paused when he remembered these were not carved pieces of wood. Hiding a wince, he tapped one of the pawns on the back. The young man spun around and looked up, eyes wide under Andres' shadow.

"You, move to E4," Andres ordered.

The pawn swallowed hard. "I-I'm sorry, I-I don't know where—"

Gathering nonexistent patience, Andres tapped the board. "Move here. Two spaces forward."

The pawn hurried to obey, eyes trained down.

Despite his attempts to focus on the game itself, Andres couldn't help but wonder what each of the white pieces on his board had done to land their fate. Murderers, traitors, those who had no place in society. He glanced across the board at Lorelei, who was swaying to music that wasn't there. She perked up when they locked gazes, and he was almost saddened by the strange hope in her eyes. With her inhibitions decimated, it was all too clear how much she trusted him.

He glanced at the pieces on the board again and wondered, How many innocents?

His thoughts shattered when Jackson snatched up a pawn of his own without warning, seeming to savor the way the girl whimpered and squirmed in the tight pinch of his fingers.

"Settle down, darling," he crooned. "You're expendable. The game will be over for you soon." When he set her down on the board, she hugged her arms and trembled, tears streaking down her face.

Andres tore his eyes away from her. Nothing he could do.

He made foolish moves from then on, but they were perfectly calculated. His primary goal for once was not to win; he only wished to capture the queen. It was child's play to reach Lorelei, considering any player's strategy would focus on protecting the king. He ordered the pieces where to go, pointing and nudged if he needed to. When he captured Jackson's pieces, he made them walk to him rather than snatching them up.

Jackson smirked each time Andres refused to grab the trinkets, making a show of picking up his own pieces and taking an unreasonable amount of time to decide his move. He held them in his palm, toyed with him while deep in thought.

Finally, Andres captured Lorelei. He had to resist the urge to pluck her up. Jackson would undoubtedly notice the special treatment.

"Come over here," Andres said, beckoning her to move among the other pawns and the knight he had captured.

"Yessir." She pranced over to him, giving a clumsy twirl and making a rude gesture at Jackson so that only Andres could see it. She took a seat behind his side of the board, and he paid no mind to the triumphant smile she aimed up at him.

His next strategy was to make it a point to capture as many pieces as possible. Once he had a small crowd of black pieces on his side of the table, it was easy enough to discreetly drop a hand over Lorelei and sweep her away from the others. He moved her to his lap under the table. With people watching around him, slipping her into his pocket would be too noticeable. He let her go on his thigh, praying she wasn't foolishly drunk enough to fall off. He could feel her tiny weight, along with the slightest tremble. Not from fear, though—he had a feeling she was giggling to herself.

From then on, it was business as usual. He managed to corner Jackson and capture the king despite his seemingly sloppy plays at the beginning. With the queen gone, anyway, there was hardly a contest.

Huffing, Jackson glared at what remained of his chess pieces, as if they had anything to do with his loss. Then he turned that irked look to Andres. "You really shouldn't be here," Jackson said. "You know you're gonna clean up. Give someone else a chance, would you?"

"Maybe you should work on your strategies," Andres returned.

Before Jackson could snap back, someone from the group piped up, "Mr. Soto, can I play a round with you?"

He shook his head. "I'm going to my room to relax before the opening social." He cupped a hand around Lorelei so that she smoothly fell into his palm when he stood. He strode away, arm relaxed at his side, and his fist closely loosely.

He waited by the elevators until he could catch one alone. When the doors were sealed, he lifted his hand and unfurled his fingers enough to see her. Lorelei sat up and leaned back on her hands, a flirtatious smile on her lips that was entirely unlike her—at least when she was with him.

"Hello again," she slurred. "My hero."

"You're drunk," he said. "How disappointing. I was hoping we could play a few matches tonight." He shook his head, observing her unfocused eyes. "It would not be fair to you."

She waved a hand at him. "Ah, don't be so dramatic. I was on bar duty before the tournament players started arriving. I'm fine."

The elevator came to a stop. Lorelei scrambled to the edge of Andres' hand and vomited over the side. Some landed on his shoe. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled sheepishly at his unimpressed expression.

"My bad," she said. "I swear I wasn't aiming there."

Breathing out sharply, he exited the elevator and headed for his suite. He took her straight to the lounger by the coffee table, laying out a pillow and setting her down on it.

"Sleep it off, Señorita Lorelei. I have a social I must attend. Will you be fine in three hours?"

"Probably." She stretched her arms over her head and laid asprawl. "And for the thousandth time, call me Lore."

Despite the state she was in, he imagined she wouldn't stay drunk for long. Trinkets rose back to soberness much quicker than natural people. Andres wasn't sure if it was an automatic side effect of their size or an intentional feature of their engineering to ensure they couldn't soothe themselves with inebriation for too long.

He stepped into the bedroom to change his shoes. As he headed back for the door to leave, she waved her hand to get his attention.

"No blanket?" She pouted. "I'm cold, you monster."

He rolled his eyes. "Shall I tuck you in and sing you a lullaby, too? You are demanding tonight."

"That's what you get for treating me like a person, Señor Andres. Now I've got all these sick and dangerous thoughts in my head about wanting to be comfortable."

"Well, stop it."

"No, sir. They're my sick and dangerous thoughts, and you can't take them away. Besides, you owe me."

He dug through one of his bags beside the coffee table until he found a silk handkerchief. "I saved you," he pointed out.

"Out of the kindness of your heart? Please. You owe me because you're going to get me in trouble, making me magically vanish like that. In fact, I'm sure there is sheer chaos downstairs over a kidnapped queen. They'll think I'm a runner."

"I'll tell the front desk I collected you." He braced his hands on either side of the cushion and leaned over her. "Would you like to write a script for me? Should I say you are too enchanting to resist, and I needed you all to myself tonight?" He dropped the handkerchief over her.

She squirmed under the fabric until she found her way out—which took twice as long as it should have. "Perfect, couldn't have scripted it better myself. Try to sound like you mean it, though." He snorted and started to pull away. "Wait!" she said. "Speaking of saving me. Can I tell you about the dream I had about you? Very quick."

He sighed. "What?"

"I dreamed..." She lowered her voice to a whisper, forcing him to lean closer. "That you stole me away from here. And we played chess day and night. And you still never beat me. It was lovely."

He didn't know how to feel or what to say. She had never been like this. Never said anything like this. And the way she looked at him... Her little eyes bright and naive over the edge of his handkerchief. He did not enjoy this drunken version of Lorelei Weaver. Not in the slightest.

"Sleep it off," he murmured again. "I want you ready to play when I get back." Then he made his escape.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ *~ * 

The moment she started to come to, her face flushed. She couldn't remember everything with clarity, but she remembered enough to be embarrassed. Groaning low in her throat, she sat up and used the corner of the handkerchief to wipe the dry crust from the corner of her lips. Maybe if Andres wasn't too disgusted with her, she could wheedle a drop of mouthwash from him.

Footsteps thudded toward the room. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It had been roughly three hours since she passed out. Straightening her back, she smoothed her hair down and folded her hands on her lap. Although her head was clear, it ached.

"Oh, good," she said when Andres stalked into the room. "I thought I had only hallucinated seeing your grumpy face. How bad was the social? Did they make you..." She shuddered dramatically. "Mingle?"

"Well, you clearly feel better." He approached the lounger and didn't bother kneeling for her sake. He never did. More of the looming type. "What did you think you were doing, getting drunk like that?"

A faint, scalding smile perked on her lips. "I was forced to. The guest I was lucky enough to get saddled with likes his trinkets good and giddy. Is that fair enough for you?"

"Fair enough." His expression didn't change, other than something at the back of his eyes that was too far away to see. "It's good that you're fine now. They want to see you downstairs at the bar to make sure you have not escaped." His hand dove for her.

"Wait!" she cried. He paused, frowning. "I've had enough today. I'm not in the mood to be manhandled any more. Can't you... lay your hand down or something?"

"Why?"

"Easier on my ribs and my ego, believe it or not." She pressed her lips into a tight line and glowered straight up at him. "Doesn't seem like too much to ask for you to lay your damn hand down."

Looking like a kid forced to eat his vegetables, he dropped his hand beside her. She climbed on, and he swept her up not a moment after she settled. She grabbed at his fingers to keep from tumbling off. Already she missed the safety of the handkerchief, but the warmth of his skin was a fair substitute.

They didn't speak as he took her downstairs to the bar, where a few players were sipping on drinks, laughing, cutting up. She adopted her usual pose on her knees, shoulders back, eyes down. From her glances, she recognized a few of the players—both from her days as a human and from her evening of being their queen piece in the lobby.

"Here she is," Andres said to the bartender. "Satisfied?" He thrust her out in his open palm.

The bartender lurched back, looking from Lorelei to Andres, stammering. "I'll get the manager. Would you like a drink while you wait, Mr. Soto?"

"No."

As the bartender walked off, the man seated closest scoffed. "Well, that's a damn shame."

Theo Jackson. Lorelei kept her head turned away as if there was any hope that he might not recognize her.

Apparently tired of holding her, Andres lowered her to the bar counter. She nearly asked him to pluck her right back up, ribs and ego or not. She couldn't help but look at Jackson, going cold at the lust in his eyes as he tipped back his drink and reached for the other that had been laid out for him.

"What shame?" Andres asked boredly. She wanted to scream at him for indulging Jackson.

Jackson pointed at her with the hand that held his scotch. "Pretty little thing like that, and you don't even have a drink to put her in. I knew you swiped her. Figured you'd at least be putting her to good use."

"Mr. Soto." A woman interrupted, approaching from the other side of the bar and putting her hand out to shake. Andres had to step to the side to reach her. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Now, about the trinket. An employee is retrieving a case. You are welcome to enjoy your regular trinket during your stay, but it's required that she remain in the case when you're not around—"

"Yes, yes, I know the rules."

Despite that, she went on. Lorelei edged closer to where Andres had moved, feeling exposed. A second after the dreadful sensation came over her, a hand shot across the bar and snatched her up. Jackson covered her scream before she could let it loose, bringing her further down the bar, further from Andres. He hushed her gently, pinning her to the counter and keeping her muzzled. His fingers were cold from the chilled glass.

"What's the trouble, darling?" His voice was much sweeter now that he wasn't playing chess. "Soto doesn't know how to treat you right. And you've got my attention. Isn't that wasn't you wanted, pulling that cool little move during my game?" He brushed a fingertip along her side, controlling her with only one hand while the other lifted the drink to his lips for another sip. "You must get played with a lot at these tournaments to know the game so well."

While she squirmed and tried to buck her way free, he leaned down closer. The stench of whiskey wafted around her.

"Why don't we go up to my room, and I show you a thing or two in return?"

He reached under her lingerie. She bit the fingertip covering her mouth. It was barely anything, but he flinched all the same and allowed her to scream.

"Stop!" she yelped.

"What are you doing?" Andres barked.

A shadow descended upon them. The drink was swiped to the ground, Andres' hand crashing into it like a freight train. Glass shattered. The pressure of Jackson's hand vanished. Lorelei scrambled backward on her hands and rear, gasping for breath as she watched Andres and Jackson come to blows.

Jackson shoved Andres into the bar, making it rattle like an earthquake. Lorelei ducked down and covered her head, peeking over her knees as Andres landed a brutal punch to Jackson's stomach.

"Stop!" the manager screamed, backing away to the other side of the bar. "Stop now! Or we'll get security! You'll be arrested!"

Andres grabbed the front of Jackson's shirt and then shoved him away, seething.

Coughing, Jackson leaned on the bar. "What are you, a fucking sympathizer?" he spat, face contorting with disgust.

"Not in the slightest," Andres growled. "But she is mine."

"Mr. Soto," the manager said in a quavering voice. "You could be disqualified—"

"No," Jackson said. "No. I'm not pressing charges or reporting this or anything. I wanna face this fucker during the finals."

A very confused-looking hotel employee walked up holding a glass trinket case. Andres pulled away from the bar and snatched the case before reaching for Lorelei. There was no waiting for her to climb on this time. He closed her in a fist and stormed off. Even over the sound of his footsteps, Lorelei heard the manager offer Jackson a complimentary trinket for his troubles.

All the way to the room, Andres did not lift his fist from his side. She couldn't help but tremble, replaying the events of the fight over and over in her mind. These weren't the carefully calculated moves of a chess game; this was chaos. Utter chaos that she had never expected to manifest in him. She had gotten so used to his collected prowess on the board that she hadn't imagined what he could do in a physical fight.

He entered his suite and put her down on the lounger. She wasn't surprised at all when he immediately began setting up his chessboard on the coffee table. She would have asked him to do it if he hadn't.

"One match before bed," he said. "I need to rest before the first round tomorrow."

Lorelei stayed quiet, hugging her knees as she watched him arrange the pieces. With each clack of wood on the board, she pictured him driving his fists into Jackson. He glanced at her every few seconds, looking like he was working himself up to say something. Then he would think better of it.

Finally, when the board was ready, he spoke.

"Did I frighten you?" he asked without the smallest measure of apology.

"Does it matter?"

"Are you too distracted to play?"

"Never."

"Then it does not matter."

He walked around the coffee table to the lounger and reached for her. He stopped short and turned his hand over beside her, offering his palm instead. She chuckled mirthlessly and scooted over to climb on. "Well, look at that. He can be taught."

She took the white team and started the game. In no time, she felt at home among the light-up squares and smooth wooden pieces. There was no rust to shake off from her strategy. No uncertainty. Since his second visit, she had been given a reason to keep her chess mind sharp.

He, however, was the one who seemed distracted as she paced around the pieces. She was well on her way to beating him in less than twenty-five moves.

"Your move," she declared when his expression stayed distant for too long.

He blinked at her, then pushed a hand up his face with a heavy sigh. "Lorelei..."

"Lore."

"Lore. When I said you were mine..." He heaved another sigh. "I want to make something perfectly clear. I hope you don't really have any fanciful ideas about me taking you away from here. I will not put myself at risk like that."

She pursed her lips and pointed at the board. "Your move."

He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, then slumped forward with his elbows on his knees. "Listen to me, Lore. This is the last time you'll see me here. You understand?"

She did understand. She understood that this was the first time he had seen her life outside the safety that his visits provided. She understood that he had seen the aftermath of a regular afternoon on bar duty for her. She understood that he had seen what people like Jackson did when they got their hands on her. She understood that none of it was enough to make him take the risk for her.

"This tournament is far below your rating," she said, folding her hands behind her back and strolling along the edge of the board away from him. She peeked back over her shoulder. "I was surprised you showed up at all."

"I have you to thank for my improved rating. But you are correct. I have no business at this tournament anymore."

She turned around, wishing so badly that this didn't hurt the way it did. "Then why are you here?"

His eye contact did not waver. He straightened up and looked down at her. "Because you are the best I've played in my life. Perhaps the best I ever will play. I am determined to beat you before the tournament is over. I have lost sleep over you, Señorita Lorelei. I would like to sleep soundly again. Please don't ruin it with your fanciful thoughts."

"They're my fanciful thoughts, Señor Andres. And you can't take them away. They're all I have." She pointed at the board once more, determined to memorize every last turn of their final games together. "Your move."

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ *~ * 

The morning after the tournament finals, Lorelei awoke unsure of her surroundings. She wasn't in the hotel room. Not in the cylindrical container the staff supplied Andres. She should have awoken to the sound of housekeeping knocking at the door, but instead she heard a cacophony of voices.

Motion caught her attention. Swaying. Footsteps.

Realizing she was in a pocket, she all but shot to her feet to get a look at who was holding her. Had Andres left her outside the room for some random guest to sweep up and torment? That didn't seem like him, even if he had been particularly sulky during their last night together when he still failed to beat her.

Bracing herself, she peeked up from the coat.

A familiar face. His dark eyes shot from the phone in his hand to the fact poking out of his jacket. Andres shot her a sharp look, then typed away at his phone. He lowered it enough for her to see.

"Don't get excited. This is not a rescue, I'm stealing a private tutor."

She had only half a second to read it before his hand filled her vision. He pushed her back down, one finger pressing her belly as if to tell her stay. Then his hand withdrew, and his steps resumed. Her heart hammered as the sound of an airline announcement caught her ear.

Finally, he had made a move she did not predict.