#I stopped because cutting is useless and I got yelled at but mostly it's stupid and if you actively do it fucking stop

[aftermathing]

So much mental health advice is like "ask for help!! Don't be afraid to rely on your friends and family to get you through this!!" girl what if i do not have friends or family*

[winchesterfanatic1967]

Asthma Attack

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 990

Warnings: None 

You had been a hunter all your life. Your father was a hunter and he raised you into it. He came across John Winchester one day, and they took on a nest of vampires. After that, they would work a few cases together. After they both died you and the Winchester stuck together. 

You lived in the bunker with them, and hunted with them for a while. It all changed one day when you had an asthma attack while being on a hunt, and you were so scared because you didn’t know what was happening to you. 

They took you to the hospital, and you found out you had asthma. You were confused, because you’ve never had it before. The doctor explained you can develop it at any age and anytime. He told you the best way to prevent it is refrain from putting yourself in a stressful situation. 

That means no more hunting. You were devastated, you were a good hunter. As much as the job cost you pain and loss you didn’t know anything else. You held it together until you got home, and you broke down into your room. You felt useless. Dean came in to check on you after hearing your cries and he held you. 

He held you for so long, and he let you vent. He let you vent about how it wasn’t fair, and how useless you felt. He told you that you weren’t useless, and how much you meant to him and Sam. Then he kissed you. You were in shock and he tried to apologize, but you stopped him and told him how you felt about him. 

You became a couple after that. But it wasn’t always easy. Since you couldn’t hunt anymore, you stayed back and did research for them. You were kind of their new Bobby. You fought countless times about stupid things and there were many times where you wanted to strangle one another, but then you would begin to feel the air leave your lungs and you had to calm down.

Asthma was so frustrating. You couldn’t stress, you couldn’t go on runs with Sam anymore, you couldn’t even yell sometimes. It was stressful enough not being able to go on hunts with the boys. What if they got hurt and you could’ve done something about it? It was all just a mess.

One night, they returned from a demon hunt. Sam was mostly fine, just some cuts and bruises but Dean was beat up. You tried to keep your composure but after you stitched him up you felt more and more angry. 

“You need to be more careful.”

“Damn it y/n. I’m not in the mood to fight with you tonight.”

“Well you scare me Dean! Do you know how frustrating it is that I can’t go and help you guys!? What if you get hurt or worse one day, and I could’ve done something to stop it!” 

“You need to stop thinking like that. It’s the job y/n. We get hurt sometimes.”

“Yeah, but De,” You stopped as you felt the familiar feeling. The tightness in your chest, and the air leaving your lungs. You gasped out, wheezing as you tried to calm yourself. 

“Hey hey hey, sweetheart look at me. It’s ok, you’re ok. Calm down.”

You were wheezing, trying hard to get your breath but nothing was working. Dean began to panic as you weren’t letting up, and searched around frantically.

“Y/n where’s your inhaler?” You pointed to your bag, and Dean ran to it bringing it to you. You puffed it, before blacking out. 

“Damn it. Damn it!” Dean yelled out before feeling your neck for a pulse. It was slow, but it was there. He sighed in relief, before carrying you to your shared bedroom. He covered you with a blanket before sitting beside you. He sighed as he ran his fingers through your hair. 

He knew how frustrating it was for you, and he felt awful that there wasn’t more he could do for you. He wanted to let you come, he really did but he was terrified about you having another attack during a hunt and a monster takes advantage of it. After about an hour he saw you stir, and you opened your eyes looking up at him. 

“Hi.” You say.

“Hey beautiful. How are you feeling?”

“My throat hurts.”

“Here.” He handed you a bottle of water. You chugged it down before looking at him. He laid down next to you and pulled you gently into his arms. He looked down at you and kissed your forehead. 

“You scared me sweetheart. I know you feel useless and trapped, and I know how hard it must be to not go on hunts anymore. But you mean so much to Sam and I. You stitch us up, and give us information, and you cook for us. You take care of us and you don’t ask for a damn thing in return. I miss you on the road too baby. But you can’t be in stressful situations. I hate watching you have an asthma attack. I feel so useless. I promise to be more careful, if you promise to be more careful too. You say what if we get hurt and you could’ve done something about it? Well I feel the same way. What if you have an asthma attack at home and I could’ve done something about it?”

“W-What if, I go with you guys, but just stay back at the hotel? That way, we’ll be closer to each other. If I feel like I need your help, I can call you and you’ll be close by.”

“I like that plan, c’mere.” He said as he pulled you closer, and you buried your face in the crock of his neck breathing in his aftershave. You really did love this man with all of your heart. 

[gay-otlc]

Little Miss Perfect

Summary: Straight hair, straight A's, straight forward, straight girl

Straight hair is most beautiful. Straight A's are most successful. Straight forward is fastest. Straight girls are the most perfect. And if straight girls are the most perfect, and Biana is the most perfect, ae has to be straight. Ae doesn't get a choice.

Little miss perfect, that's me

Content warnings: Internalized homophobia, homophobia in general, cursing, mentions of abuse, mentions of eating disorders, lmk if I should add more.

Word count: 3143

(Read on AO3)

Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight path, I don't cut corners

Biana Amberly Vacker is beautiful, and smart, but that's hardly a surprise. Even before ae was born, everyone knew ae would be beautiful, and smart. Ae's a Vacker, after all. Ae wakes up early to straighten aer hair and stays up late to study, so ae's tired all the time, but ae's gorgeous and ae's at the top of aer class, so does it really matter?

Ae takes life one day at a time, one step after another, because if ae slows down or turns around, everything ae's running away from might catch up with aer.

So ae doesn't do that. Biana keeps following the straight path and hopes the road ahead of aer doesn't wind too much. Make sure every step leads aer to perfection.

I make a point to be on time Head of the student council

Not only that, but Biana's on time for everything. Aer parents make sure of that, but ae probably would be even without their help- Biana likes to plan ahead. Or really, ae doesn't know for sure whether ae likes it, or if it makes ae feel trapped. But at least it saves aer the confusion and terror of an uncertain life. Whatever the reason, ae makes little notes in aer planner for all aer appointments.

And bigger notes in aer journal for the rest of aer life.

Make it through Foxfire.

Manifest an ability.

Get a respectable job.

Marry a respectable boy.

Have children.

Step four... doesn't seem so great, by which ae means downright nauseating, but that doesn't matter. What ae wants doesn't matter. And anyway, this will probably be what ae wants in the long run. Ae's just not old enough for boys yet. Plenty of time for that in the future.

Ae'll be on time for every step of aer perfect fucking life.

I don't black out at parties I jam to Paul McCartney

Biana doesn't break rules- mostly because ae's afraid of how aer father would punish aer. Either way, ae's never snuck out at night, never spent time with the classmates he said were beneath aer, never wore something he said showed too much skin, never ate more than ae was allowed to. Every single one of his rules, ae followed.

If that meant not going to Marella Redek's party because her mother was too "strange," even though everyone else was talking about how fun it would be, ae wouldn't go. Ae would just miss out. Fun.

Ae heard that at the parties, they played human music. What would that even sound like? Fitz knew- he got to go to the human world all the time, but Biana didn't. Still, after incessant begging, aer dad let aer listen to one song, by a human named Paul McCartney. It wasn't bad. Quite good, in comparison to elvin music. Still... ae wished ae could listen to more.

Of course, ae wouldn't. That would be disobeying aer dad. And ae didn't do that. She always had to be the perfect daughtaer.

If you ask me how I'm doing I'll say... Well, hmm

Lying wasn't good, of course. Ae shouldn't lie to people who asked how ae was doing.

But ae couldn't admit to being anything less than perfect.

So ae'd just mumble.

Perfect until proven otherwise.

I was adopted when I was two My parents spoiled me rotten

Okay, so Biana isn't actually adopted- but for years, ae thought ae had been. Always out of place in the perfect Vacker family, because everything comes so effortlessly to them, they're exactly what elvin society wants without any struggle at all. And ae... wasn't like that. Too loud, too argumentative, not quite ladylike enough. Not smart enough, ae needed to work harder. Not pretty enough.

Not interested in the right people.

But when ae learned to stay quiet, keep aer head down, and follow all the damn rules, aer parents seemed to like aer better. Well, Alden did. Della always appreciated aer, however quietly, slipping aer little pieces of mallowmelt behind Alden's back even when he told aer that ae had to be thinner. Whispering compliments into aer ears after Alden scolded aer so much his voice was hoarse from screaming and aers was hoarse from crying.

And when Alden was proud of aer, she would get everything ae wanted. All the pretty dresses. All the sparkles and sketchbooks and sewing kits. Trips to Atlantis or Eternalia. Anything ae wanted, to reward her for being Little Miss Perfect.

Often I ask myself, "What did I do?" To get as far as I've gotten

Some of the time- who the hell is ae kidding, it's most, if not all, of the time- Biana feels like... ae doesn't deserve aer last name, or aer popularity, or any of aer privileges in life. Mentors at Foxfire practically revere aer and aer peers bend over backwards to be liked by aer.

Ae is so fucking sick of it.

Why aer? Ae wants to scream the question at every single person who treats aer differently. Why is ae the one to get that treatment? Ae had never done anything important in aer whole fucking life, ae didn't do anything, and all this praise should go to someone far more perfect than aer.

A pretty girl walks by my locker My heart gives a flutter

Biana is, unfortunately, very well known at Foxfire, and ae thought ae knew everyone else too. But ae's never seen this girl before, because ae would know if they had. It would be impossible for past Biana to have seen this girl and not remember her.

She has dark skin, even darker than Biana's, and long dreadlocks pulled into a knot and streaked with blue. Biana thought ae was used to the beauty of elvin girls- they were all quite pretty- but this girl, holy shit, ae was not prepared to see this girl. Her flat nose and full pink lips and turquoise eyes are all so beautiful. Biana's heart pounds and flutters around her chest like it wants to fly out and meet this girl, and aer breath catches.

Maruca Chebota, as ae later learns, is perfection.

But I don't dare utter a word 'Cause that would be absurd behaviour For little miss perfect

The pretty girl continues walking, seemingly unaware that she's thrown Biana's world wobbling out of orbit. Biana wants to call out to her, to yell, to make sure she doesn't walk away and make it so that amazing high, those butterflies and awe and something ae can't even describe, seems almost like it never happened.

But there are a lot of people in the hallways, and they're already staring at aer far more intensely than what ae would describe as comfortable, ready to judge each and every thing she does. Running to catch up with a girl because she's pretty? Not normal. Not normal for any elf, but especially not aer.

Biana silently watches her turn around a corner into a different hallway and out of aer line of sight, wishing ae could have been a little less perfect. Just for one second.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na No, I can't risk falling off my throne

Dear Maruca,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you lately. I'm sorry I can't talk to you. You haven't done anything wrong, I promise.

It's just... you're dangerous. To my heart, my... my reputation. My throne.

That's not quite true. You're not dangerous to most people. You're just dangerous to me. Maybe you're fine, and I'm just too fragile. Too imperfect.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la Love is something I don't even know

Dear Maruca,

What if we did love each other? Bravely. Boldly. Unapologetically.

What if I pretended it wouldn't topple me off my throne; or pretended I didn't care?

No. That's stupid. I shouldn't sacrifice all that for love.

This isn't even love, anyway. I don't know what love is, but you aren't it.

Straight hair, straight A's, straightforward Straight girl

Straight hair is most beautiful.

Straight A's are most successful.

Straight forward is fastest.

Straight girls are the most perfect.

Little miss perfect That's me

And if straight girls are the most perfect, and Biana is the most perfect, ae has to be straight.

Ae doesn't get a choice.

One night my friend stayed over We laughed, and drank and ordered

And straight girls would like Maruca, sure, but not in the way Biana does. Not in that all consuming, heart wrenching, feels like ae's floating and falling and spiraling all at once way. Just in a... a friend way. A normal way. Because the two of them would make perfect friends, and anything other than that would end in fiery disaster.

So Biana makes friends with Maruca. Friends. They talk about their Universe class, and play splotching together in PE (Maruca wins; Biana gets distracted by her braids), and horribly bake mallowmelt together. It burns.

Maruca is... fun. It's fun to be friends with Maruca. Ae invites her over to Everglen for a sleepover- Della is overjoyed that Biana is finally making friends- and they have a fun time. Playing games and talking about useless shit and going to go bother Fitz and his friend Keefe.

It doesn't need to be anything different, Biana tells aerself, again and again. It's perfect like this. It doesn't need to change.

Something about her drew me in What? It's totally platonic

Biana can't stop staring at Maruca.

She feels like gravity, a star, and ae feels like a planet. They work perfectly together, orbiting around and around and around. If Maruca smiles, Biana's mind races to solve the mystery of how exactly that smile would taste on aer lips. It tastes good, ae thinks, though that's a stupid thought.

"What are you thinking about?" Maruca asks. "You have this goofy smile on your face, and you didn't hear the story I just told."

Biana turns bright red. Of course, ae can't say I was thinking about your lips on mine, because that would sound... weird. Ae has to keep it platonic, because they'll never be anything other than platonic, and it's not like ae wants that either. Ae swallows, and finally says "You. I'm really glad we're friends."

Platonic friends. Perfect, platonic friends.

That night was so exciting Her smirks were so enticing

"Yeah, I'm an awesome friend," Maruca says, flicking one of her intricate braids. Biana's eyes linger on it a little too long.

Ae clears aer throat and quickly deflects the conversation, still blushing. "You are. Do you want to go downstairs? It smells like something's baking."

"I would be honored to go eat some of your mom's amazing desserts, m'laedy," says Maruca, extending a hand with mock formality. Her gorgeous lips are pulled into a smirk. Biana's breath catches; ae wants to freeze this mental image for eternity. Cautiously, ae takes Maruca's hand in aers.

Skin touching. Holding hands.

It's stupid, it's a cliche, but it does feel like sparks shoot across aer skin as Maruca wraps her fingers in Biana's and starts walking downstairs. Aer stomach flips around excitedly.

Then ae crashes and burns. They are friends. Both girls. Friends don't get this excited about holding other friends' hands. Biana rips aer hand away and stuffs it in aer pocket. Maruca looks a bit offended, but Biana clenches aer jaw and looks down.

It hurts, but ae has to be perfect. No exceptions.

Hours speed by like seconds Then, what happens is iconic

Once they get over the awkwardness of that moment, they slip right back into the fun they were having before. Della's ripplefluffs disappear quickly, and the two of them go back into Biana's room to keep talking. Biana shows Maruca aer sketches- ae hasn't really shown them to anyone before, Alden thinks a Vacker should have a more noble profession than designing fashion- and Maruca tells Biana that ae should dye aer hair.

Alden is going to kill aer, but for once, ae isn't thinking of that. Della would probably say yes, but the two of them decide it would be more fun to sneak out, so they light leap to Slurps And Burps as quietly as they can, in silent giggles the whole time. Maruca decides to re-dye the blue streaks in her hair, and Biana opts for violet. They go back to Biana's room and laugh more. Biana wildly thinks this is the most fun ae's ever had.

It's perfect, even if ae isn't.

She takes a sip, I bite my lip She tells a joke, I nearly choke

Aer stomach is sore from laughing, and ae still can't stop looking at Maruca. She's so pretty, something ae could stare at forever if ae had the chance. The longer ae looks, the more ae notices little details, like the way her braids fall against her shoulders, and how she has barely visible freckles splattered across her nose, and how her hand brushes against Biana's every so often. It's warm, and smooth, and perfect.

Maruca is a masterpiece of a person.

Currently, Biana's fascination lies in how her lips curl around the straw of her lushberry juice. It’s disgusting and wrong and so thrilling as Biana imagines kissing those lips.

No. Stop thinking about that, Biana commands aerself, biting aer own lip to draw aer attention away.

"Biana? Bi? You listening?"

Ae turns red. "Yeah, sorry!"

"Alright, so I was reading about cowboys, except I read it as cowgoys because it was really late, which implies the existence of Jewish cows. So then the thought 'Bar Moo-tzvah' came into my head and I can't stop thinking about it."

Biana snorts; the joke is funny enough on its own, but the cute little smile on Maruca's face and the way her eyes light up nearly make aer choke.

“Shut the fuck up, brain, let me be the perfect Vacker,” ae muters, too quietly for Maruca to hear.

She braids my hair, I sit there Blacking out for the first time

Maruca says Biana's newly violet hair looks beautiful- ae needs to fake a coughing fit to keep from squealing- and asks to braid it. Biana nods, and lets aerself get lost in the feeling of fingers weaving through aer hair and brushing against aer head.

Aer eyes close- ae doesn't know when, but the room around aer disappears and all ae can feel is fingers and this all encompassing, overwhelming love ae seems to be drowning in, blacking out everything else.

Next thing I know, I lose control I finally kiss her but oh no

Without making any conscious decision, Biana spins around, cups Maruca's face, and gently presses aer lips against hers. Their flat noses touch, eyelashes flutter against each other's cheeks, lips kissing. Kissing. It's fast, and sweet, and wonderful. Biana feels aer world aligning perfectly, like this is the way everything was meant to be, and there are fireworks shooting across aer skies.

Biana smiles against Maruca's lips.

I see a face in my window Then my brain starts to go

Everything happens at once.

Maruca yelps and pushes aer back. The door swings open, revealing a shocked Fitz. Fireworks vanish, as quickly as they came.

Biana's world shatters.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na No, you can't risk falling off your throne

Dear Maruca,

That kiss was amazing.

But it's too risky to do again.

I'm sorry.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la Love is something you don't even know

Dear Maruca,

What do I know about kissing? It's not like I have anything to compare it too, besides that one time I kissed Keefe on the cheek because I thought I was supposed to. No, because I wanted to. Because I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to kiss him and I didn't want to kiss you.

I don't know what kissing is supposed to feel like. Or what love is supposed to feel like.

It'll be better with a boy. It has to be better with a boy.

I'll know love eventually, and it won't be with you.

You shouldn't love me either.

Na, na, na, na, na, na, na, na You can't risk falling off your throne

Dear Maruca,

I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you-

No.

I hate myself.

La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la Love You don't even know

Dear Maruca,

Or maybe I love you.

I don't know.

I probably don't.

Because I can't love another girl, right? I have to be misunderstanding what love means if I think I can love a girl.

I don't know love. But it can't be you.

Rewind, induce amnesia Deny the truth, that's easier

Fitz tells her what to do- pretend like it never happened. That's what Alden told him when he kissed Keefe. Biana snorts humorlessly at that; two fucked up Vacker children. But ae follows his advice. Forget about it. Pretend it never happened. Never address it with Maruca; or speak to her again, really. Pretend, pretend, pretend.

Ae's been pretending aer whole life.

Life continues on, and ae pretends to be okay. Maruca makes friends with Stina, and Biana makes friends with the new girl. Sophie Foster. Sophie is nice enough, but she's not Maruca. She can't replace Maruca. No one can fucking replace Maruca, and no one should have to- ae just fucked up aer only chance with someone that wonderful. But ae pretends Sophie is enough, pretends ae's not heartbroken.

Pretends, pretends, pretends.

Pretends to be perfect.

You're just confused, believe her When she says there's nothing there

Biana talks to Maruca once.

They both apologize in the same breath.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened-"

"That was weird, I'm sorry-"

"I don't like you, I was just confused."

"So was I, kissing girls was just something I thought I'd try, a bit of a phase."

"No, totally, it's not like I really like girls or anything."

"Nah, that'd be weird."

They never speak again. There's nothing between them. Biana tries to believe what Maruca told aer. Ae doesn't.

“You're just confused,” ae repeats to aerself. “You're still perfect.”

It's never worth it When you're little miss perfect

Dear Maruca,

Maybe someone else can love you. Someone who doesn't have to be little miss perfect.

[a3shithole]

Hi! If requests are open could i request Masumi with a new reader who just joined the spring truope (who at first is really quiet but when they open up their chaotic side comes out) and he finds himself slowly falling for them and moving on from Izumi?

Bonus if the reader is a meme lord and does the most weird/cursed things for funzies and enjoys making their friends laugh with their stupid shenanigans.

This is such an interesting idea! I feel honored to receive this, thank you for requesting! ⌒°ʚ(ෆ❛ั ᴗ ❛ัʃƪ)ɞ♡°⌒

This will be my third time writing him, and all of them are from requests haha (≡^∇^≡) I honestly had a hard time writing chaotic reader, let alone a meme lord type of person, so I'm sorry in advance that this turns really cringy (^^")

Sorry that I'm slow at doing requests, I was too absorbed into A3!'s last event (Various Vow of Love) haha >///<

Also happy early birthday Masumi! Hope you like this and have a nice day 🌻

Masumi x reader (gender-neutral)

Reader is a new member of Spring Troupe

1294 word

He's been frowning ever since this morning.

Masumi usually still half-asleep when it's time for morning rehearsal, but his eyes turn wide open, as soon as the Director walks into the room. With a stranger. Closely stand near Izumi.

That stranger is you.

Izumi introduces you as the new member for Spring Troupe from now on. You meekly said your name to everyone in the room. The members of Spring Troupe welcomed you with open arms, making sure you adapt to the new environment feeling comfortable. Except for Masumi.

He despises how physically close you are to the Director on the whole rehearsal. He is jealous of how the Director gave her full attention to you. And he almost tackles you--thanks to Chikage and Itaru who holds him--because you praised how tasty Izumi's curry at lunchtime, and resulting in you getting an extra portion from her.

He hates you as the new rookie who's trying to steal the Director away from him.

You are aware of how Masumi has been staring at you since you arrived here. You just didn't understand what did you do to upset him.

"Don't mind him," you turned your head to the other member of Spring Troupe that's been playing on his phone--Itaru was it?

Easier said than done

You exhaled, not realizing you've been holding your breath. You are shy when you are in a new place, but with the addition of someone having vendetta towards you on the first day?

"Umm... Did I do something wrong to him?" you asked the gamer besides you.

"Nope. It's just him being his usual self," he answered casually while still focusing on attacking a slime creature on his phone.

"He is extremely inflated when it comes to the Director, you see~"

"Infatuate. And he's been like that towards the Director for years now. I'm sorry you're experiencing this on your first day."

You just nod to the foreigner and the playwright as a response. While it's a bit of a relief that it was not your fault for him to stare at you full of hatred, if looks could kill, you'd be dead by now.

You yelped in surprise when you realized Masumi stood beside you, staring you down like a small critter getting cornered by a predator. Before you even open your mouth to ask him, he cut you off with a harsh tone.

"Don't go near the Director."

"Masumi!"

And just like that, he went back to his room.

It was a short sentence coming out from his mouth, yet you felt like part of your soul just left your body. It's going to be such a long journey being on this troupe, you thought.

.

It's been a month since you joined Mankai Company and being part of the Spring troupe. You are mostly silent for the first two weeks, not knowing what to say and only answering stuff if it's directly aimed at you. Masumi still glares at you whenever the Director interacts with you, but that's about it.

But as time goes by, getting a bit more comfortable with everyone on the troupe, doing rehearsal is fun. You start to open up, revealing your true, loud personality to the rest of the members. And with that, Spring Troupe slowly rivals the energy of the Summer Troupe with you in the troupe. Poor Tsuzuru basically got another nuisance to take care of, he felt like he grew more white hair every time watching your shenanigans.

But it was also a fresh atmosphere for the spring troupe. Every rehearsal became so colorful and fun with you around. You love everyone in Mankai, and so do they.

And something changed with Masumi.

Every time you crack some jokes or do some stupid stuff, you do notice he always stares at you. Like, observing your every movement. Not with the ill-intent he does the first few days you join the troupe. Because when you stare back at him, he averted his gaze away from you.

Is he perhaps shy?

Because of that, you have a new mission to do; being besties with Usui Masumi!

"Bruh," you said, poking a certain gamer besides you, "how do you befriend an emo psycho?"

"You don't."

"Man, you're useless."

He throws the towel drenched with his sweats, making you shriek in disgust.

"That is so not pogchamp, dude," you said, throwing the towel back, away from your face to Itaru who is just dabbing.

"Please stop. You two are hurting me," Tsuzuru said from the other side of the room. You and Itaru look at each other and unanimously agree to do an outdated viral dance, earning a loud groan from the playwright.

.

"Masumiii! Check your LIME!" you yelled across the room one day. You've been trying your best to be close with Usui Masumi. And you're not going to lie, but it's so hard, especially with his lack of response in general.

"No."

"But I sent you some banger memes!"

"Don't care."

"It's Director's faves!"

And with the speed of light, he unlocked his phone to see the abomination you sent into his inbox.

"...why is this ugly dog hitting another dog with a baseball bat?"

"That's you."

"...what?"

You scoot closer to him as he scrolls on his phone, looking at all the crap you sent to him. You just laugh and try to explain each individual picture to him. It's amusing to see him so bewildered.

"Why are you sending me all these unfunny pictures?"

"You make friends by sending them memes! I think it's working, don't you think?!"

"No."

"Gah, so cold!"

"Ooh! Is that the Shoes Camel meme?"

You jumped when one of your fellow troupe mates chimed in to see at Masumi's screen, "Close Ronron! But the name's Suez Canal!"

You two start chatting animately about the recent accident-that-ended-up-being-a-meme, while also edging Masumi to also be involved in the conversation. Then the other four members of Spring Troupe slowly join into your conversation.

It feels weird, Masumi thought to himself.

On how natural you lift up the atmosphere in an instant, even though everything that came out of your mouth sounds ridiculous for him.

Maybe he judged you a bit harshly just because...

What, jealousy?

Why?

.

Masumi is confused.

This feeling...

He was so sure that he is so in love with the Director, he even prepared their wedding plan and their honeymoon.

Was.

And then you entered Mankai. And his life.

Never in his life, he felt this conflicted.

Recently he catches himself thinking about you randomly. When listening to a song. Or eating his lunch.

And he feels warm when you're around. The way you talk to him is... different. It doesn't feel like this when he talks to Izumi.

...why was he so obsessed with Izumi to begin with anyway?

Masumi is indeed confused.

"Hey," he jolted from a sudden touch from someone on his shoulder. Turning his head, you are standing behind him, with concern plastered on your face.

"You've been standing here for a long time, are you okay?" he relaxed a bit, "...yeah."

You might be annoying at times, but not the over-bearing type from his view, but you know when to tone down your usual energy, "hmm... just know that if you need any help, I'm here for you. I might be useless, but I'm not as useless as the 'G' in Lasagna!"

He realizes that maybe, he was too naïve for clinging onto what he felt for Izumi. He needs to grow as a person, sure, he loves Izumi. But he now realizes it's not that kind of love. With his newfound feeling towards you, however. It feels different.

For the first time, you see a smile on his face.

[morizoras-cave]

Kid problems (Request)

MCU cast x child!reader, mostly Scarlett Johansson x reader and Mark Ruffalo x reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Request Description: Please may I request a mcu cast x child!reader where the kids the daughter of a new female superhero actor (made up) and the cast finds up she’s been verbally/ physically abusive so the kid and confront the lady about it and comfort the kid? You don’t have to if this makes you uncomfortable though!

Warnings: physical and emotional child abuse, language, mean insults, bad mom

(A/N): i thought i wasn’t going to write today but i had a (not so) busy day and i fell asleep for like three hours and now i cant sleep, so here we are! ya’ll i feel like this one kinda sucks but lets not talk about it. not proofread as always

“Stay quiet and be polite, and for God’s sake, don’t be so clumsy like you always are!” your mother spoke roughly, eyes on the road in front of her. “Knocking things over and ruining everything..”

“I won’t,” you mumbled quietly. 

She had recently made her big break as an actor, landing the role as Abigail Brand in the Marvel universe. As far as you understood, she had met her coworkers a few weeks ago and it had went well. 

Now, she was bringing you to meet them, because apparently they had spoken about how it was cool for kids to see a movie set, and your mom had run out of excuses not to bring you.

You were determined to be quiet and polite and to not be clumsy. All you wanted was to please your mother and make her proud. She just always seemed so angry. But that was your fault.

“Alright, we’re here,” your mother sighed. She exited the car and opened your door, practically dragging you out of the vehicle and into the filming area. You didn’t really understand anything or what anything was, so you just stayed quiet and stayed close to your mother, although avoiding touching her. She was always extra violent after you did so.

“M/n! You’re here, and with this little nugget?” a man with a funny beard and cool sunglasses came up to you. He smiled and then crouched down to your level. Your mom laughed awkwardly. “What’s your name?”

“Uh, Y-Y/n.” 

The man smiled at you and you smiled back cautiously, looking to your mom to see if it was okay. She seemed annoyed like always. 

“She’s shy, huh?” the man joked, and got up again. You watched, anxious to mess up. Maybe this time you could finally satisfy your mother and stop being such a useless child.

“Yeah, she is. I try to tell her to be more talkative, but she’s just naturally like this,” your mom smiled warmly at the man. Now you were even more confused. Did she want you to talk more? No, right?

You were introduced to the rest of them. Their names were Robert, Mark, Chris, Chris (again), Jeremy and Scarlett. They were very nice to you. They were very careful and caring, and it made you wish your mom was like that. 

You mostly just watched them work and talk. Eventually you sat down drawing, because you were bored.

“Can I see that?” Scarlett asked, gesturing to the drawing you were working on. You shyly nodded and stopped drawing, putting the crayons down. “Woow, that’s so pretty!” 

You shook your head, “no, it’s not.” Scarlett looked at you in confusion. 

“Why would you say that?” she asked, caressing your arm carefully. 

“My mama says my drawings are bad,” you mumbled. Scarlett looked up at your mom in confusion. Your mom was already dashing over to you, having heard the conversation.

“She means her nana, I call my mom mama and so she calls her mama.. My mom is not very good around kids,” your mom explained away. You furrowed your brows. You didn’t mean nana? You and mama stopped talking to nana long ago. 

Scarlett, who had previously tensed up, relaxed and let out an understanding laugh, “oh! I got worried there for a second!”

Your mom made a strained smile and then looked down at you. She had that glint in her eyes, although her face was friendly, you could tell she was disappointed. You teared up right then and there, so tired of disappointing her.

“Alright, Y/n, let’s go to the bathroom,” she grabbed your small hand roughly, and pulled you away from the nice adults. Tears rolling down your face, as your mom brought you into the women’s bathroom. 

“You little-” she cut herself off, gritting her teeth and checking if there were people in the stalls. There weren’t and she turned back to you with that angry face. 

“How dare you? Can’t you ever just stay quiet like I tell you to? You useless child! You were a mistake!” she hissed. It hurt you so bad, it felt so bad, and your crying worsened as you attempted to stammer out an apology. 

Your mother slapped you across the face. “Stop crying, you nuisance,” she said and indeed you forced yourself to stop crying. You held it in, trembling. 

Meanwhile Scarlett and Mark had been walking past the bathrooms, when they heard the slap. Of course, to them it could’ve been a lot of things. They exchanged glances, and Scarlett had said that she’d check it out. 

She walked quietly into the echoing bathroom, stopping when she heard the sound of angry and aggressive whispers.

“You’re so stupid and useless. You have no talent. Just stay quiet from now on! Shut the fuck up.” 

Scarlett was shocked to hear your mother’s voice. It took a moment for Scarlett to realize who she was talking to, and the thought drew a very real gasp out of her. Now, not giving two shits, she stepped away from the wall to see your mother crouched down in front of you, an almost animalistic expression on her face.

“M/n! How dare you!” was all she could say. Her instant reaction was to simply walk over to you, and get you away from your mother, but as she tried to your mother grabbed your arm. The both of them tugged at you.

“Get away from my baby!” your mom yelled. The commotion drew Mark to enter the bathroom, bewildered at the situation. Your mom and Scarlett both tugging at you, and you in the middle, red face and puffy eyes, conflicted as ever.

“What’s going on here?”

Mark’s sudden presence startled your mother, and in a moment of surprise, she let go and you fell into Scarlett’s grasp. She picked you up in her arms, and just started walking out of the bathroom.

Mark followed, looking between you and your mother. Scarlett didn’t know where she walking, but far from that witch. 

“M/n was- she was saying these horrible things to Y/n. Like, seriously horrible things,” Scarlett said. Meanwhile she rubbed your back and held you close, something that made you feel so nice inside. Your mother never did that. 

“I think what we heard was- Like, a slap?” Scarlett said, and when she met Mark’s eyes, he too had gotten a serious and worried look in them. He turned to you, resting on Scarlett’s chest.

“N/n, uh, did your mom hurt you, by any chance?” he asked and you stirred from your resting place.

“Hurt?”

“Like, hit you in any way?” 

“Mhmm,” your simple hum, like it was the most normal thing in the world, made the two adults’ hearts sink. 

“ScarJo, Ruffalo!” Chris (Hemsworth) greeted, but his cheerful welcome, did nothing to cheer up the two shaken adults. 

“Downey, you gotta call the Russos and tell them to get another Abigail Brand,” Mark instructed, while Scarlett put you down on the couch and then looked down the hallway to see if your mom was running after you. Ominously, she was nowhere to be seen. Scarlett couldn’t decide what was worse: if she had run after you, or the fact that she just left you. 

“What? We’re weeks into filming?” Chris (Evans) exclaimed. Him and Jeremy were sitting by a table behind Robert and the other Chris. 

Scarlett gave them knowing look and pulled up the sleeve of your small, purple sweater. Your tiny arm was littered with bruises, now and old. The others’ eyes widened, and there was a moment of silence where everyone looked at each other in confusion, anger and hurt. 

“I’ll go talk to them,” Downey said, smiling to you softly, before disappearing to somewhere else on set. 

“Where is M/n now?” Chris (Evans) asked. Him and the other two, Jeremy and Chris (the other one), seemed much angrier (not that the others weren’t but perhaps a different type of angry).

“I don’t know, I think she left in the opposite direction,” Scarlett murmured and Mark nodded. Without a word, Chris, Chris and Jeremy stood up and started walking down the hallway to find your mom.

You just watched in confusion mostly, as everyone scattered purposefully. Mark and Scarlett then finally turned to you. 

“Where’s mama?” you asked innocently. The two shook their heads.

“Your mom isn’t good for you..” You furrowed your brows. 

“What do you mean? Does she not want to be with me anymore? Can you tell her I’m trying really hard? I don’t why, but I keep messing up,” you said, your lip trembling. You could cry again. Was your mother leaving you, disappointed in your work at being a good daughter? 

“No, no.. Your mom is the one is that wasn’t good enough for you. Moms shouldn’t hit and yell at their kid like that..” Scarlett sighed, holding your hand comfortingly. 

“Oh..” was all you said. Your mom was fired and the proper authorities were called. You didn’t really know what happened, but somehow your entire day-to-day changed. You started talking to a nice lady, who was trying to explain to you why your mom was bad. You still didn’t understand it, but hopefully you would in the future.  

You were adopted by some very nice old people. The adults from that day stayed in touch with them, and sometimes some of them came over with their kids and you played together. 

The day you met them, changed your entire life, and when you did grow up, and you realized why your mom was ‘bad’, you felt eternally grateful to them, for putting your life on a better course. And you made sure to let them know, when you did meet them every once in a while. They were just happy to see that you were seemingly unscathed by this, and that your mom’s evil actions hadn’t ruined you in any way. You were happy and bright and you could thank it all to them. :)

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer​ @marvel-madness​ @40srogcrs​ @whatthefuckimbisexual​ @ireadfanficforfun

[fnf-brain-rot]

back in the day

Boyfriend held onto his microphone with a strong grip, staring down at the dulled, black surface that triggered memories in his mind. this wasn't the mic he used in his everyday quests of rap battling, no. this was, what he used to call, his battle mic. It was a pretty lame name, but now it holds loads of sentimental value.

Back when he and Pico were dating, yes he dated in his middle school, his parents couldn't tell him he wasn't allowed to, he would often hang out with his friends, Nene and Darnell. He actually enjoyed Pico's friends a lot. Nene helped get him in touch with his feminine side, and Darnell would give him guys talk about things Pico hated talking about. Being together with them had its downsides of course. he was occasionally dragged into their hijinks, which would get him pretty beat up. He and Pico even argued over it. Boyfriend didn't mind, he thought it was cool in all honesty, but Pico didn't want him getting hurt anymore, and his parents might start noticing the cuts and bruises. It gave Boyfriend a bright idea.

________________________________________________________________________________

"Mom! I'm heading out!"

"Okay sweetie! Be back BEFORE ten, okay?"

Bee rolled his eyes, then closed the front door of his home behind him. He had a bright idea. A dangerous one, but it was totally smart. He skated his way down to the lesser developed area of Newgrounds City, which already put him in a bit of danger. He was the brightest thing there. Stopping near an old, rusty bus drop off, he took out his phone. Maybe he should tell the others he was there, just in case anything went wrong. He stopped himself though. Nene would panic and tell Darnell and Pico. Darnell would doubt the idea and tell Pico. And Pico... He would come down there himself just to chew him out.

he shook his head to clear his thoughts, then pocketed his phone. He was already there. there was no point in going back.

He had a couple hours to put his new skills to the test. Did he start training only a week ago? yes. Was he impatient to prove himself? Very much so. Was this a good idea? Hm.. probably not, but he'll get nowhere if he doesn't believe in himself! 

He set down his board, then began his walk down to the little ice cream parlor a couple minutes from him. He remembered Pico saying something about it swarming with Uberkids. This was his ticket. He held his microphone tight in his sweaty palms. it seemed like the parlor was the only thing using power around here. All the other buildings were either dark, devoid of life, or destroyed, as if fires have been set and holes have been blasted through the walls. 

He stepped foot at the door, already feeling the refreshing cool air brushing against him from the other side of the glass. He swallowed hard, then pulled the door open. He couldn't see anyone behind the counter. That alone made him nervous. "H..Hello?" His voice quivered, despite his best attempt to sound tough. Standing in front of the selection of ice cream is when he noticed a kid his height standing there. It was one of them.

Boyfriend smiled nervously. these guys don't really talk huh? He gripped his microphone to comfort himself. He was now realizing he didn't really have a plan, and he was mostly daydreaming about kicking ass on the way there, but now this felt super stupid. Maybe they won't wanna fight? "Uh.. hi? Can I get a chocolate mint ice cream?" Maybe ice cream would make him feel better. The other was about to comply with his order, but seemed to stop, staring into Boyfriend's eyes for longer than he was comfortable with. No doubt they knew him, he was literally always with Pico.

the way he recoiled confirmed his thoughts, and before he knew it, he had a gun pointed at him. "Bad idea.." bee murmured before immediately ducking as a shot was fired in his previous position. "Oh shit! Shit!" He scrambled off the floor, making a run for the front doors, which he kicked open with his foot. He could hear the uberkid chasing him down, firing shot after shot at his moving target. 

Boyfriend ducked behind a dumpster for cover. His hands were shaking, and he felt like he was about to collapse. Wait no, he knew what this was. Adrenaline. He could call Pico.. Or he could handle this himself and prove he was fine with the other three. Right. He's not being brushed off anymore.

He waited for footsteps, hearing them get closer and closer to his location. Right when he saw the shadow, he flung himself out into the open. he heard gunfire, and felt a searing pain in his shoulder, but he ignored it. In one swift motion, he threw his mic at the kid, then yoinked it back. He had his eyes closed, so he had no idea what he really did, but when he opened them, he was holding the kid's gun. 

"Ha! Hahaaa!!" Boyfriend laughed triumphantly, but quickly made more distance between him and the approaching opponent. He flung his mic again, pulling the cord down. The solid object made direct contact with the other's skull, tripping him up and flinging him face first into the pavement. With a wide grin, Boyfriend dropped the gun, then kicked it away behind him. "Not so useless now, am I?" He put his hands on his hips, but wasn't prepared for the next act.

The uberkid lifted himself up on shaky arms, and pulled a whistle from his pocket.

oh no..

"Oh! Wait! nono please!" Boyfriend held his hands up, but the shrill sound of the whistle cut him off. He knew what that meant. He could already feel the buildings around him come to life. They were probably waiting for the signal this whole time. Maybe they thought he had Pico, Nene, and Darnell with him.

He's really starting to think he should have called them.

Boyfriend began running without a second thought, passing the barely conscious kid on the ground. He needed to get to his board. he needed to get out of here.

He pulled out his phone and pressed on the first contact he could see. Pico. Oh great, now he had to get yelled at. he pressed call, hearing the gun fire begin to echo around the decrepit walls of the broken down area. Pico picked up on the second ring, a yawn following right after. "Bee-"

"I'M BEING CHASED BY UBERKIDS AND THEY'RE SHOOTING AT ME!!" 

Silence crept between them for a moment before Pico responded, his voice dripping with a stern, serious tone. "Where are you." Boyfriend cried out at the feeling of another bullet grazing him, almost tripping over his foot. "Downtown! Near the ice cream parlor!" He heard Pico sigh heavily. "We're on our way. Get behind something." With that, the ginger hung up the phone.

Boyfriend felt relief wash over him at the news of backup on its way, however it was short lived when he felt a solid hit in his left arm. He gasped out in pain, the spot immediately boiling with heat. He tried to focus on his skate board but.. Oh god, they were already there.. he skidded to a halt, but quickly moved in a different direction. he hoped to god this alleyway didn't have a dead end. He tripped over an open garbage bag, tumbling over and rolling into a brick wall, hitting the back of his head. 

His vision swirled, and he was in so much pain. He bit back tears and tried to stay quiet, doing that thing he saw Pico do when he got shot. he ripped off a piece of his shirt, then tied it around the wound. The pain was unbearable, but he had to be tough. 

The gunfire stopped, supposedly because they didn't know where he was. All he had was his microphone.. It wasn't really a weapon.. But it could be.. He looked around, squeezing the hand of his injured arm. The sooner he got used to the pain, the sooner he could fight. Drawing in a breath, he stood up, suppressing the urge to curl up in a ball to wait for his saviors.

There stood two uberkids, thankfully unarmed, but still looked dangerous. He was quick to jump forward, throwing out his mic. The force of the sling wrapped the object around one of their necks, and with all his force, Boyfriend gave it a hard tug. He made direct contact with his opponent's face with the top of his head, hearing the crunch of his breaking nose. The buddy he was patrolling with quickly ran to help, grabbing Boyfriend by the shoulders, and the blue haired struggled against his grip. 

He then smacked his head up into the uberkids' jaw, then kicked his leg up at his crotch, causing the clone to double over. "When Pico gets here you guys are FUCKED." He threatened them through grit teeth, kicking away the one in front of him. He didn't have it in him to kill them like the others did. If anything he just hoped he knocked them unconscious.

He breathed out as the two bodies collapsed under him. The adrenaline really did do wonders huh.. He limped his way out of the alley way to get to his skateboard, hopefully it was less crowded-

The moment he stepped out he saw a good five of these wastes of science grants running his way. "Son of a-" He began to back track, almost stumbling backward into the wall to hide. Welp, at least he did some cool fighting shit before he died. He squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the sounds of gunfire to end his life.

Well, it didn't.. kill him when he heard it.

he cracked an eye open as blood splattered onto the pavement in front of him, but it wasn't his. He turned the corner to see no other than Nene, who jumped in the middle of them for dramatic affect. Pico covered her from some ways back, gradually making his way toward the scrap. It wasn't too long until Boyfriend heard an explosion, surprisingly nearby. He often forgets how bloody these fights are.

"Nene..!" Bee quickly rushes toward her, surprising both her and Pico. "Bee, wait!" The ginger yelled out, but Boyfriend didn't listen. The blue haired boy held up a hand for Pico to hold his fire, then threw his microphone to wrap around the neck of one minion about to grab Nene from behind. he tugged to give himself a speed boost, then lifted his legs to collide with his stomach, knocking him to the ground, the shorter standing on top. 

"Wow Bee, where'd you learn that?" Nene smiled, impressed, and Boyfriend couldn't help but breathe out a laugh. "It's why I'm here." He admitted to her.

With all the immediate ubers handled, Darnell came down from one of the already destroyed buildings, seeming giddy as hell while Nene checked Boyfriend for any wounds. "Holy shit Bf! I saw what you did! Where the fuck did you learn to fight like that??" He clapped the boy on the back, which made him wince painfully, and the taller muttered an apology with another laugh. Pico was quiet, as to be expected. "Did you know you got shot in the leg?"

"I what."

Boyfriend looked down to see blood oozing out of his calf. Oh wow, he hadn't even felt it.

"N..No I didn't know that." He felt the pain wash over him though when he looked at out. "Wow that hurts!" He forced himself to laugh at it, and  Nene and Darnell happily lent him their shoulders to limp on. "Let's go, before he loses too much blood." Pico muttered, walking over to the rusty bench and grabbing his skateboard. Boyfriend already know how this talk was gonna go..

________________________________________________________________________________

The three kids easily helped boyfriend patch up his wounds. The worst hurdle was taking the bullets out of his arm and leg. He had to bite down on a towel for that.

Pico had him lie down on his bed, the boy no wearing one of his sweaters and a pair of his boxers since he had to shower. He texted his mom to ask if he could stay at Pico's, and being the understanding mother she was, she allowed it.

"Get better soon, okay Bee?" Nene waved as she walked out of Pico's bedroom, Darnell playfully saluting him. With those two gone, Boyfriend grew tense, watching Pico walk into his bathroom to clean up everything they used to dress his wounds. He felt bad about making them do all this. He knew it was his own fault he got in trouble like that. He should endure the punishment.

Pico came back, turning the light off as he left the room. Without a word, he sat down on his bed, then turned to look at Bee. They stared at each other for a moment, and Boyfriend's cheeks began to redden. Now wasn't the time to faun over his boyfriend-

"Uh.. I'm sorry.." He started, looking away in embarrassment. He couldn't read Pico's expression, and frankly he didn't want to. Pico put a hand on his face, drawing a slow breath, then letting it out. "bee, you could have gotten seriously hurt."

"I know I know! I just.. I wanted to.." Pico grunted before he could finish. "You wanted to put yourself in danger to, what, prove a point? What's the point in doing that if you might not live to prove it to people?!" Boyfriend flinched as he raised his voice, then winced at the dull throb he was met with from moving so suddenly. Pico sighed again, and without warning, leaned forward to gently hug onto Boyfriend's torso. The smaller's eyes widened, and his heartbeat increased. "I'm just.. glad you're okay. Don't.. Don't do that again, okay?" 

Bee smiled brightly as Pico sat up. It always melted his heart when he smiled like that. "I promise! I obviously can't fight on my own like you can." He teased, then whined as Pico flicked his nose. "No dumbass. Since when do I fight armies without backup, huh?" He scoffed, and Boyfriend laughed again, gently rubbing his nose. "Yeah, yeah. I learned my lesson." Pico rolled his eyes. "You better have.." He leaned down and kissed Boyfriend on the forehead. He was dramatic about it, a happy squeal leaving him while the ginger simply rolled his eyes again. He should stop doing that, he could feel his sockets loosening already.

________________________________________________________________________________

Bee smiled at the memory. He was lucky enough to get away without any scars. Meeting Pico this week was tough. he could barely explain to Girlfriend why he started crying after that. He wasn't ready to tell her about it yet. He would soon though, he doesn't like hiding stuff. He loves her too much.

.......

"You up?"

The phone showed Pico was typing for a while.

"Ya, why"

"I wanna talk"

[anarchy-and-piglins]

Summary: Technoblade spends some time in Pandora’s Box. It goes about as well as you’d expect.

(Read on AO3)

He skimmed his hand along the obsidian, the surface smooth beneath his touch. Some parts of it were seemingly warmer than others, but Technoblade didn't know if that was because of the lava running somewhere deep within the walls or just his tired mind playing tricks on him. He tapped the volcanic glass once, an action that fills the cell with a light ringing sound. But the layers ran too deep for Techno to tell where hollowness hides beneath.

Which was a shame, because knowing the structure's weaknesses would already go a long way in him figuring out his escape plan.

With no tools and the mining fatigue weighing heavy on his bones, getting through obsidian might be a fool's errand. But it was a better way to spent his time than waiting for a rescue party that would most likely never come. Or better yet, stay put and sit pretty like Dream seemed to want him to.

Technoblade couldn't see any other reason for him still being here.

The sky tore open, lightning forming a spiderweb of fractures evaporating as quickly as they had taken shape. Rain beat down on them relentlessly and made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of them. Another crack – a flash of blinding light – and it carried the glint of a sword at Phil's throat, the steady hand of Dream holding onto the base of Phil's neck and keeping him in place.

Technoblade stilled in an instant.

The thunder rumbled ominously as Dream's impassive mask grinned ever wider.

The trade-off had gone quick and easy, an unspoken agreement that Techno would sign again in a heartbeat. He nodded curtly at Dream, who pressed the blade firmer against skin to make his point. Techno dropped his own weapon, holding up his arms to show goodwill. Phil's eyes widened as he realized what was happening, helpless to stop it.

"Wait-" But Dream curled his fingers tighter around Phil's neck, the sword inches away from slicing a jugular and Techno shook his head, internally begging for the other man to stay quiet.

He didn't know if he could do this if Phil asked him not to with that pained look in his eyes.

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed since he was locked in Pandora's box, but Techno had a rough estimation. Sam brought him food and by counting the minutes between deliveries he had narrowed it down to two meals a day. Almost twenty meals had come and gone since his arrival.

During this time Dream had not come to see him once, was the thing.

It made a tight coil of worry pull in Techno's gut. One he stubbornly pushed down and shoved into a corner of his mind where he put all emotions he deemed worthy to be re-examined at a more opportune time, preferably over a cup of tea and some of Phil's freshly baked bread. There were only so many reasons he could think of for Dream to wait this long to state his demands – because that's what they had to be. Demands. Dream didn't do anything in half measures, always had some ace up his sleeve or a grand scheme to connect by pulling little threads of manipulation.

Dream had to gain something from putting him in prison.

Techno sat down on the small bunk that served as the room's only furniture, both bed and table in its function. The thin blanket that hardly did anything for him was balled up and shoved to the side. He started running down the list out loud so Chat could follow along. For all their strange tricks that eluded him, they still couldn't read his thoughts. Thankfully.

"Reason one: Dream thinks leaving me in here long enough will make it easier for him to get what he wants from me later."

Psychological warfare was the oldest trick in the book, but no method quite as effective as solitary confinement to break a person. Or, well, that would be the case for most others. Between the voices and a natural tendency towards extreme introversion Technoblade probably was the worst target for this approach. If the accommodations weren't so shit, he might have even enjoyed his stay.

Dream would most likely know this. Cross it off the list.

"Reason two: he needs to keep me secured for a future ploy."

A possibility, but the uncertainty tugged at Technoblade all the same. If Dream was planning to use him as a bargaining chip – or worse, a flunkey – down the line, then Techno would have had the honor of his presence by now, even if only for Dream to gloat. That man was utterly lost in his own superiority complex on the best of days, there was no chance he would pass on an opportunity to rub Techno's face in his future plans. Leave him stewing in misery with knowledge of what was to come.

A moment's hesitation, but he crossed it off the list.

"Reason three: he's forgotten I'm in here."

His joke made Chat agitated and he winced at the stab of a headache that brought forth as their yelling got louder, more jumbled. "Yeah, that would be pretty cringe of him," he agreed with their repeated outcries.

"Well, that only leaves the last option I can consider..." He trailed off, staring at the slightly shimmering surface of the obsidian. Techno could see his own reflection in the translucent facets. The crown on his head stood out starkly in the cell's dim light.

In chess, the best plays were always those that went for the strongest pieces first. It might be tempting to take a rook or two to start with, but you can't feel safe until that queen is removed from the board. Then it breaks open for you to do whatever you want with, essentially.

"He's leaving me here to rot."

Phil had stared at him, the shadows cutting across his expression. Techno couldn't look him in the face, keeping his focus on Dream instead. Not breaking eye contact even as his hands were tied behind his back. The useless gesture was only meant to humiliate him, Dream knew he wouldn't budge an inch with Phil's last life still in danger.

They had marched him straight to the prison, not taking any risks and all the while Technoblade had already been glancing around, committing any important leverages to memory. With every security measure they passed, his heart sank deeper in his chest.

Forty meals had come and gone.

Technoblade was chipping away at the wall, not for any real reason except it kept him busy. He wasn't stupid enough to believe it would actually amount to anything. Not when the walls were made of obsidian, not when the mining fatigue strained his movements and made his muscles contract under the pressure of forcing them into cooperation. There was less strength to his punches, flexing his fingers against invisible weights suspended from them by strings.

And even if he managed by some miracle to mine away a block, Sam would know and come replace it instantly.

"Chat," he addressed the voices. "You're familiar with the story of Sisyphus, right?" A mess of responses, mostly the repeating of their favorite letter which Techno chose to take as agreement. "Yeah, sure, I've read it to you before."

His claws broke through another inch of the solid stone. Obsidian wasn't a mineral, the composition wasn't right for it. But it splintered in brittle ways and cut open Techno's palm, making the blood run slick through his fingers. Chat went into a frenzy.

"This is what he must have felt like with his boulder," Techno concluded.

They stripped him of his tools, his weapons, his communicator. Technoblade was vaguely grateful they let him keep his clothes at least, though he suspected it was merely because Sam hadn't been prepared for the prison to already be put to use.

The creeper-hybrid looked at him in vague apprehension and Techno shrugged back.

Placing him in the highest security cell could have been a compliment if Techno didn't think it to be completely overkill and awfully dramatic on Dream's part. The rows of doors they passed on the way to the bowels of the box were concerning, enough to contain at least half the residents of the server.

Dream had officially lost his marbles.

High security turned out to be a euphemism for 'violation of human rights'. The cell was barely three by three blocks, with nothing but the bed tucked against one wall and a heavy-set door that didn't even have a handle on the inside. At floor height, there was a thin slot just wide enough for the occasional bowl of stew or a baked potato to slide through. The warden didn't have to interact with his prisoners.

"Cozy," Techno remarked dully before the door was shut behind him. It hadn't been opened since.

He had lost count, but he had to be nearing his eightieth meal now.

More and more often Technoblade found himself slumbering through the opening of the latch, only to wake up to a stale steak that had been left on his floor hours ago. It wasn't real sleep, merely a state of exhaustion both mental and physical that left him wandering the borders of consciousness, drifting somewhere between awareness and disconnect. Which he knew was probably not the best sign.

The lack of physical activity was wearing his muscles down, making even the simple act of pacing circles in the room send aches through his legs. For the first time in longer than he cared to recall Techno returned to the exercise routine they had done every morning in the Antarctic Empire – or at least the parts of it he could match in the limited space of his cell. It wasn't enough though and he felt himself grow weaker every day. There was no sunlight, no fresh air, and the food left something to be desired.

His mind too wandered more and more, having trouble staying on task. The voices gradually grew more agitated, bored by the same scenery each day, the lack of excitement. A permanent headache had taken residence and didn't show any sign of intending to leave soon, making its presence known through a constant throbbing and the occasional stab of pain when he thought too hard. Closing his eyes, Technoblade started to count out loud. Give them and himself something to concentrate on. Chat came apart into a tangle of numbers, noises, buzzing. He winced.

"Okay, new plan, new plan-" He curled up on the bunk, drawing his knees up to his chest. The blanket was on the floor. "Story time, what would you like to hear?"

More chaos, but one answer stood out among the others. Its irony was not lost on Techno.

"Thus, the first mortal woman was born and she descended down to earth." He hushed them and was grateful when chat fell away into quieter murmurs. "Her name was Pandora."

The door opened.

The sound made Technoblade flinch, the creak feeling so horribly foreign in the stillness of his cell that he had come to know like the back of his hand. He stared and didn't know what to think when he saw Phil outlined in the opening.

"Wha-"

His friend was at his side in seconds, one hand holding his wrist and it was nearly painful. An absence of touch suddenly set ablaze. Techno did his best not to shy away from the contact.

"We need to get out of here," Phil said urgently, eyes wide and panicked and the words died on Techno's tongue. "There isn't much time."

Techno could only nod, throat raw and hurting as Phil pulled him to his feet. He nearly fell over.

The hallways seemed different, longer and winding in strange angles. Door upon door upon door and Phil didn't say anything, just tugged Techno along. His head was filled with cotton. Why wasn't there any lava? Where was the redstone?

When they came outside, the sun was blinding him.

"Wait, Phil." Techno stopped moving, dug his heels into the ground and Phil stopped too. He turned around, skin pale and expression worried and it killed him. It killed Techno. "What's happening?"

"I came for you," Phil answered simply. "Of course I did, mate."

Techno felt like he was breaking.

He woke up in his cell.

"At the bottom of the box, only Hope remained there in an unbreakable home."

Technoblade missed his home.

He missed his farm and his pets and the feeling of the breeze running through his hair. He missed the winding of the river across the land, small sounds of trickling and running along the shallows with Wilbur and Tommy in tow. He missed Phil putting logs of wood in the fireplace.

He was tired.

The voices wouldn't stop screaming. Pressing his hands into his closed eyes, relieved when the pressure took some of the edge off, Technoblade grunted. "What has you guys excited now, hm?"

He didn't really care. The room was small and endless and he couldn't breathe within these walls, couldn't think. He just wanted them to shut up so he could go to sleep again.

But Chat didn't mind his protests, a litany of noise and somewhere in there, Technoblade could have sworn he heard Phil's name. He blinked back into awareness, struggling to get his stagnant mind into motion again. Too exhausted to move.

The door opened.

Technoblade couldn't even bear to tear his eyes away from the ceiling.

Somebody shook his shoulder and said his name and it hurt, it all hurt too much to be real. When warm arms wrapped around his body Techno wanted to sob but couldn't do that either.

"Hey, hey-" Phil was brushing his tangled hair from his face, fingers skirting along Techno's cheeks. He leaned into that touch subconsciously, needing it like a lifeline. There was time to be self-conscious about such vulnerability later. "It's okay, I'm here."

The noise that wanted to come out of him was a low whine, but Techno cleared his throat instead. "Took you long enough."

Phil let out a short laugh, not quite sincere yet but still music to his ears. "Yeah, you can complain about it to me later, once we get home."

Home?

Techno nodded, the minimal motion already enough to make him dizzy. But that didn't matter with Phil steadying him, holding onto him, helping him.

Coming back for him.

"Please," he said. "Home would be great."

[kpop---scenarios]

Bound To You

Commissioned by: @skittlez-area512

Genre: Mafia! Arranged Marriage! AU

Warning: Smut, Launguage

Word Count: 5.7k

If you had the slightest choice of the family you were born into, you absolutely would not have picked the one you got. 

Growing up your father drank, alot. He yelled constantly, always slapping your mother when she politely asked him to keep quiet as he was scaring the children. 

"Fuck them kids." Was his response. Your father never told you he loved you, never told you he was proud of you for graduating top of your class in highschool despite him being such a piece of shit. As stupid as it sounded, and as much as you hated the man, you wanted the validation from him. You wanted to know if he had any kind of bond with you, even the smallest. 

But that never came. The only time he was even remotely nice was when he needed something. When they were out of money and you were working so you had to support his drinking and gambling addictions, or he'd raise his hand to you. Your brother, who was 4 years older than you also still lived at home. He did his best to protect you and your mother from your father's fists but he worked a lot. He was responsible for paying the bills since your father refused to work, and wouldn't allow your mother to work, because in his mind she would cheat on him. 

You hated it here, but even at the age of 23, you couldn't leave. Even when he hit you, you couldn't leave your mother alone with him. Your father would kill her. There was no doubt in your mind. 

You sat on the couch, the house was quiet. You could hear your mother weeping in the kitchen, your father nowhere to be found. He had freaked out on everyone, slapping your mother before taking off out the front door. 

His absence was extremely welcomed.  You turn your head focusing on the show playing on the TV, when you hear yelling outside, that seemed to be coming closer. The front door of your house swung open, your dad being shoved to the floor of the entrance. 

"Where is she?" A voice snaps. 

"Ayn! Get over here!" Your father spits from the floor. Slowly you rise from the couch, reaching for your mother who came from the kitchen."Ayn!" He yells again. 

"What?" You snap, standing above the drunk man. 

"This is her." He huffs. 

You look over to the large men accompanying your father,  who are now looking at you carefully. 

"Will he approve." A deep voice says. "Taeyang, grab her." The man says. 

"Thank you! Thank you!" Your father gravels at the man's feet.

"Your debt is cleared. Do not return." He snaps, leaving  To walk out the door. The other man grabs your arm tightly, Yanking you towards him following the other man of the door. 

"What the hell are you doing!?" You snap, trying to fight the man off.

"You didn't warn her?" Taeyang scoffs. 

"Why should I? Useless bitch." Your father laughs. 

Without hesitation, the tall man swiftly kicks your father in the stomach, resulting in the sound of ribs crunching. 

"Your father sold you to Kwon Jiyong, to pay off his gambling debts." He tells you. "You will marry Jiyong in one month." 

"Do I not get a say!? This isn't even his life! It's mine! You can't use me as your payment!" You scream. 

"I can and I did." Your father coughs. "Take her." 

The man throws you over this shoulder, knowing you wouldn't go easily. You fought as hard as you could, but it didn't work. You were stuck, your fate was unknown and you were terrified. The door shut behind you, and all you could hear were the sobs and pleas of your distraught mother fading away as you're put into a van and taken away. 

"Please don’t kill me." You sob. You just knew that was your fate, and absolutely something your father would do. The wedding they had mentioned earlier couldn't actually be true. 

"What?" Taeyang laughs. "You're not dying."

"Although, you will probably wish you were dead." One mumbles. 

"I mean you're not wrong, Daesung." Taeyang smirks.

"Enough. You know GD has microphones in here." The tall one snaps. 

"Right." They both sigh. 

"But I can't actually get married." You scoff. 

"You are. One month." Daesung says. 

"I'm only 23! I haven't even had my first love yet! I wanted to travel and do so much." You cry. 

None of the three men say anything as the van pulls into a gravel driveway, stopping in front of probably the biggest house you had ever seen. 

Taeyang pulls you from the back of the van, holding onto your tied hands behind you back, guiding you inside. 

You walk through a grand entrance, painting littering the walls, sculptures against the walls. It smells of stale cigars and whiskey as you walk deeper into the house, passing through a nosy living room before stopping in front of a pair of grand double doors. 

Daesung pushes the doors open, revealing a man standing there, his back facing you. 

"She's here boss." The tall one says. 

"Thank you, TOP." He snickers, turning around. 

You had never seen someone as beautiful as the man who stood before you. He was wearing a dark blue suit, a neck tattoo visible. His fingers held a few rings, while his face was just.. perfect. 

"She'll do." He says, smirking at you. "Take her to her room." He finishes, turning back around. 

If that was who you were marrying, maybe this wouldn't be too bad. 

Oh how you were so wrong.

That night he lay in your bed, in an unfamiliar room, your eyes staring at the ceiling as the events of that day flooded through your head. You wanted to know what exactly was going on and none of his men would tell you anything. They just tell you to wait for Jiyong, but when was that going to be? 

 Taking the initiative you get out of your bed and open the large door leading to a hallway.  Quietly you sneak down the staircase heading towards the double doors you had stood in front of earlier. Taking a deep breath, you gently place your hand on the door knob Quietly turning it until you slightly pull the door open, without a sound.  You peak your head inside, a gasp coming from your mouth without thinking about it. 

You see a sweaty Jiyong, his hands gripped on a woman's hips as he harshly pounds into her, moans slipping from her mouth. With your eyes wide you look away, closing the door before you're caught, tiptoing back to your room, feeling quite dumb. You had wanted to talk to him, but you seem to forget what type of man he was. He's a mafia boss, the most ruthless. You needed to just stay in the shadows unless asked for or spoken too. Much like living in your parents house. Not to be seen or heard. 

You fell asleep that night actually sort of missing your house, mostly just your mom. 

It was a few days before you actually saw Jiyong, mostly just hangout in your room, with meals being brought to you until he returned from wherever he was. 

** 

One morning, you're woken up to the sound of clapping. It was a struggle to open your eyes, but when you did you saw Jiyong standing there, looking good in a tight fitted suit. 

"Did you enjoy the show last night?" He asks, cocking his head to the side. 

"I.. uh.. what?" You ask, not sure if you should just fess up to what you had witnessed. 

"I know you saw. I'm asking if you enjoyed it. Yes or no, that's not a hard question to answer." He says. 

You get up, swinging your legs over the edge of your bed, your head hanging low. 

"Im sorry. I just had some questions. I didn't see much." You whisper. 

"I have nothing to hide." He smirks. "Anyways, that's not why I'm here. I'm here because of this." He pauses, pointing up and down your body. "Is not going to work." 

"Kim." He calls out. A woman walks in, her face serious as she pulls you off your bed, standing you in front of them both, before forcing off the large t-shirt you slept in that night. 

You stand there, stunned as they circle you, talking to each other about what needs work and what will do. 

"Hair cut and colour, make up. Body is fine. Do something with those nails." Jiyong says. "Have her ready for the engagement party. Tonight." He says, walking out of the room. 

"Lets go." She says, pulling your arm towards the door. 

"Um. Can I put on clothes first?" You ask, looking down at your bra and panties. 

"Oh. Sure." She says, letting go. 

You go to your closet, picking out the easiest thing to put on, a sundress, already dreading what the day had in store for you. 

** 

Five hours later, you tiredly walked into your room, looking at a person in the mirror you didn't even recognize. Your hair was completely different, you never actually envisioned yourself with that colour. Your skin was glowing after being pummeled and smoothed, the smell you radiated reminded you of a bakery your mother used to take you too. 

The glow you had was hard to miss, but you kind of liked it. You smiled at yourself, but we're almost blinded by the whiteness of your teeth, it was almost too much. Your stomach drops, you don't know who this person standing before you is. You try anything to make yourself feel like yourself, but it doesn't work. This was your life now. You had appearances to keep up, better get used to it now. 

You hear a knock at your door before it opens immediately after. "Miss." A man calls out. "You have 20 minutes until it's time to go." He says, making you remember that tonight was the night you announce your engagement to everyone Jiyong knows. 

With a forced smile on your face you slip into the strapless dark satin dress that hugged your curves, as well as showed off your legs with a long slit up the sides. You stared at yourself in the mirror, in a dress that was the most flattering thing you had ever seen yourself in. You may not know who you were, but damn you looked good. 

You slid on your heels, strapping them on before heading out the door, meeting one of Jiyong's men outside your door. 

"He's waiting at the bottom of the stairs." He tells you. 

Without a word, you take a step down, heading towards your fiance that you knew nothing about. 

You see him standing there, adjusting the cuffs of his suit before looking up, a small smile crossing his face before it goes back straight. 

"That looks much better. You look good." He says, walking away leaving you trailing behind him. 

"Thanks." You whisper, rolling your eyes. 

** 

The entire car ride to the party was spent with Jiyong telling you what not to say, so when you finally pulled up to the venue, you were more than ready to get out and talk to anyone else. But before you could go in, he handed you a beautiful and large diamond ring to slide onto your ring finger for your engagement ring. 

You walked into the grand building, everything was so elegant. Waiters circled the floor with the most expensive champagne, waitresses with finger foods, the ceiling sparkled from the chandelier and the lights, gentle music played in the corner of the room. 

It truly was beautiful. 

However, you didn't get to take a lot of time to take it all in. Within seconds there were people coming up to you and Jiyong, introducing themselves, asking to see your ring and how the wedding planning was going. It was all a lot to take in. 

"Excuse me." You smile at the people who circled you and Jiyong, whispering in his ear that you were going to go to the bathroom. 

You needed a few minutes to yourself, to calm down and ease your anxiety. This was just a lot. 

When you finished in the bathroom, you were making your way back to Jiyong when you were stopped by a man. 

"Hello there beautiful." He says, stepping in front of you. 

"Hello." You respond with a small smile. 

"My my my, just how did Mr. Kwon pull someone like you?" He asks. 

"I'm sorry?" 

"I just want to know how he managed to get someone like you? You look like you'd be a much better fit for someone like, oh I don't know, me." He smirks, reaching over to touch your arm. 

"Isn't that a shame, Jackson that she is in fact mine, and not yours." Jiyong spits, walking over to stand beside you. He effortlessly slides his arm around your waist, pulling you in close. 

"Ahh, I suppose. But she could be mine. If she so chose." Jackson winks. 

"I'll pass." You smile. "I'm happy where I am." 

"You sure, sweetheart? I could make you happier." He offers. 

"I don't think you could." You say, turning your head to give Jiyong a kiss on the cheek. 

"I believe the lady has spoken." Jiyong says, clearing his throat. He had not been expecting that from you, but he liked it. 

You give Jackson a small smile before Jiyong guides you away, placing his glass down on the bar before you and he exited the building before getting in his car. The ride was silent, you spent most of it playing with your fingers with your head down, not knowing what you should say or if you should say anything. Jiyong kept one hand locked on the steering wheel, staring straight at the road, but the one thing you noticed was that his knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel hard. Something had made him mad, but what? 

When the two of you arrived back at the house, Jiyong stormed from the car and towards the house before stopping in his tracks. 

"Don't get it twisted." He began. "I don't fucking want you, but you're still mine and I don't share." He spits before going into the house, heading to his office and slamming the door. You stood outside the door for a few minutes, debating on whether you should knock or not when you heard him yelling. 

"Don't you ever disrespect me like that again!" You hear him yell. "I'll pull all my fucking connections from your crew Jackson, don't fucking test me." He snaps before slamming down the phone. 

**

Over the next few days, you had spent your time wandering around, reading, watching shows, but also getting close to some of his men. Specifically Taeyang and Daesung. They made you laugh so often, sometimes you'd catch Jiyong staring at you as you laughed, or watching you when you walked past him. You tried not to over analyze it but your brain couldn't help it. This was the man you now had to spend your life with, you wanted him to feel something, anything. 

** 

The night before the wedding, you couldn't sleep. You were terrified to get married to a mafia leader, especially one as terrifying as Jiyong. You had heard the rumors of what he had done and what he was capable of and part of you was scared that if you did anything to make him mad, he would make you disappear. 

Tired of tossing and turning, you got out of your bed, going to look at the backyard that had been set up for your wedding. The lights, the flowers, decorations, the way the chairs were set up, everything looked beautiful. If you had been marrying a man you loved you would have felt giddy and excited for this but instead you were nervous. 

"Looks good, doesn't it?" You hear from behind you. 

Turning your head, you see Daesung standing there, with his arms crossed. 

"It's beautiful." You whisper.

"You should get some sleep. You've got a long day tomorrow." He says, nodding his head towards the door. 

"I know." You sigh, heading back in with him trailing you. 

"Try to get some sleep." He says, standing at the bottom of the stairs, right across from Jiyong's office. Before you could say anything or go upstairs, you hear a female giggle from inside his office. 

"Aren't you getting married tomorrow?" You hear the girl ask. 

"Yeah, but it's strictly for business. Bitch means nothing to me." You hear Jiyong say before the woman giggles again. 

"Ayn.." Daesung starts but you don't stick around yo hear anymore. You run up the stairs, slamming the door to your room before crawling into your bed. 

This life was going to be hell. 

** 

You fought back tears the entire day of your wedding. You held them back while your shitty father walked you down the aisle to the man who wanted nothing to do with you. 

You held them back as you were announced man and wife by the minister, and Jiyong pulled you in for a kiss while everyone cheered. 

You held them back as the DJ announced Mr. And Mrs. Kwon Jiyong, and your first dance as a married couple. 

You barely touched your food, your smile was forced during pictures, especially the ones with Jiyong. You knew you could see the sadness and hurt in your eyes but everyone chose to ignore it. 

"What's your issue?" Your father asks during the forced father and daughter dance. 

"I didn't want this." You growl through your teeth. 

"Be grateful anyone wants you, but especially a man like him? You should be worshipping me for doing this for you." He spits. 

"Im in this shitty situation because of you! Like hell I'd ever thank you." 

"Ungrateful little fucking brat." Your father sneers. 

"Im done." You say, ripping your hands from his grip before walking away, even though you still had more than half the song to go. 

"You okay?" Daesung asks, sitting beside you at your table while Jiyong mingled. 

"I guess. Shitty husband, shitty father, shitty life. It is what it is." You sigh, watching Jiyong walk over to you with a smile and his hand held out for you, wanting you to dance. 

"My wife." He smiles. You force a smile, placing your hand in his, letting him lead you to the dance floor but you knew it was just for appearances. On what should be your special wedding night, you knew he would likely end up with his dick in someone else, like usual. 

As the night came to an end, you were exhausted as you crawled into your new bed. Now that you were married you had to keep up appearances, according to Jiyong. He has moved you into his room now, incase of any surprise visits or anything. Nothing could look suspicious, or not like the two of you weren't actually married. 

As you rolled over to face the wall, you felt the bed dip beside you. Honestly, you had expected him to work in his office or do whatever, but definitely not come to bed. 

When you woke up the next morning, he was gone, not really a surprise to you. However, what was a surprise was that for the next week, he ended up in bed with you either when you went to bed or a little bit later. He never said anything to you, just crawled in and went to sleep but a part of you liked it. You enjoyed having someone to sleep next too. 

** 

A few weeks later, you said good night to Taeyang and Daesung, giving Jiyong a small smile before heading for the stairs. Your heart fluttered when you looked at him. As much as you tried to stop it, you fell for him and you hated yourself for doing so. It was a little earlier than you normally went to bed but you were bored. 

"Wait." Jiyong calls out. "Where are you going?" He asks. "Not to bed right?" 

"Um, well yeah, I was planning on going to bed." You say, avoiding eye contact. 

"We have that opening. You have to get ready." He says. 

Fuck. Taeyang had told you about it weeks ago and it had totally slipped your mind. "Right." You sigh. "I'll get ready quickly." You say, running up the stairs. 

You finished your makeup in record time, opting for a subtle but dark look to go along with your short dark dress with a slit up the side. You quickly slip on a pair of heels before descending down the staircase where you hear a small "wow" slip from Jiyongs lips. A smile quickly washes over you before it disappears, not wanting him to know you heard that. 

You walk with Jiyong to the car, where he opens the door for you, allowing you to slide in before he goes around to the drivers side, taking off quickly. 

"I have a meeting when we get there at first." He explains. "Say your name at the bar and he won't charge you, just hangout for a bit until I'm done and then I'll come get you." He says, giving you a small smile. 

You nod your head, letting him know you understand as your stomach fills with butterflies.

**

Jiyong gives you a small wave as he walks away from you, leaving you in a crowded club by yourself. You walk over to the bar, ordering a few shots before giving him your name. 

"Under Kwon Ayn." You say, slightly enjoying the look of terror on his face when he realized who your husband was. 

The man gave you your four shots of tequila, which you took all in a row, standing there for a minute while the liquor worked its magic. Just as you felt it kick in, one of your favorite songs began playing, drawing you out to the dance floor. Without any hesitation you walked to the dance floor and began moving your hips, swaying to the beat of the song. 

It didn't take long for you tk feel a pair of hands grip your hips and someone to push themselves against you. Honestly, you had thought it was Jiyong, but when you leaned your head back and you saw it was a man you had never seen before. You felt your body tense up as you tried to move away from him but his grip tightened, not letting you leave. 

"What's the rush, baby?" He whispers in your ear. Maybe it was the tequila, or maybe it was the fact that your husband didn't want you, but it felt nice to be touched, to be wanted. You wanted someone, you had needs too that weren't being met. 

You turned around, sliding your arms around his neck, whispering in his ear. "Im Ayn." 

"Suho." He beams, pulling you in closer. 

For the next few minutes, you couldn't help the giant smile that was plastered on your face as you and Suho danced, while he whispered in your ear. It felt nice to have someone be close with you and make you feel things and want you. You were tired of your one sided love, it was nice to have some sort of feeling returned. 

It was nice while it lasted. You happened to look up, the smile on your face fading as you saw Jiyong staring at you with Suho, his fists squeezed into balls at his sides while his face looked right pissed. 

You quickly try to pull away from Suho but he just laughs, and pulls you in closer. Your eyes widen as you watch Jiyong walk down the stairs, pushing his way through the crowd until he stands behind Suho. He taps him on the shoulder, and Suho turns around. When he does, Jiyong's fist immediately connects with Suho's face, knocking him to the ground. 

"Get your fucking hands off my wife." He spits, grabbing your wrist, pulling you towards the bathroom. 

Jiyong pulls you into the men's bathroom, closing the door behind you. "What the fuck was that?" He spits. 

"It was nice to be touched." You say, shrugging your shoulders. "A girl has needs too, you know." You say, that fucking tequila making you braver than you've ever been. 

"And what kind of needs do you have?" He asks, walking closer to you until you're pinned against the door. 

"I need to be touched, and wanted.. fucked." You breathe, Jiyong's face inches closer to yours. His hands reach down to touch your thighs, slipping his fingers under your dress as you spread your legs slightly for him.

“Touched like this?" He asks, gliding his fingers across your clothed pussy.

You shudder at the feeling, your knees buckling. Jiyong grabs your hand,  bringing you to the counter where he puts his hands on your hips, helping you hop onto the counter. Uoj spread your legs causing your dress to ride up. He pulls you closer to the edge before moving your dress up fully and out of his way as he groans at the sight of your already dripping pussy. 

Jiyong spreads your lips with his fingers, leaning forward to give you a few kitten licks on your clit, just light enough to tease the fuck out of you. 

You let out a small gasp. "More. Please" you beg. The second those words left your mouth, Jiyong quickly dived in, licking you all the way up with the flat of his tongue, moving it up and down. Your hands grip the edge of the counter tightly, your knuckles turning white. Jiyong's hands hold onto your thighs as he suctions his lips directly around your clit, sucking harshly, making you grind yourself on hks face. 

"I'm.. shit. I'm gonna cum." You cry, circling your hips as your orgasm washes through your body. 

“This is going to have to be quick baby" Jiyong smirks, standing up and unbuckling his belt, while you have a few seconds to recover. He slides down his pants just enough to allow his cock to spring free. Your mouth waters at the sight of it, his thick, large cock dripping pre cum already. 

“Please fuck me." You groan, spreading your legs more. Jiyong lines himself up with your entrance, ramming his cock inside of you, making you scream. He quickly pulls back out and thrusts back in, giving you no time to adjust to jis large size. 

"Yeah baby, let everyone know you're mine. Who's making you scream." He grunts as he thrusts himself in and out of you. 

Jiyong had himself angled at the perfect position to be able to have your clit rub up against him as he fucked you on the counter. Your tits had fallen out of your strapless dress, making Jiyong lean forward, taking one in his mouth, sucking on it while never slowing his pace. 

“You gonna cum again?" he breathes. His words build your orgasm, the knot getting tighter and tighter with every harsh thrust.

“Fuck." You cry out, grabbing onto your breast, squeezing as your eyes roll back into your head, the sensation of your second orgasm overwhelming. 

“Cum in my pussy." You cry out, wanting to feel him fill you up with his juice. 

Second later, Jiyong grunts as he releases himself into you, coating your walls with his cum. He pulls himself out of you, pulling his pants up before helping you off the counter. 

"Let's get you home and clean up." He murmurs, taking your hand and leading you through the club where you tried to avoid many looks from people who definitely knew what you had just done in there. 

The ride home was quiet. You had a million things you wanted to ask hkm, like what did that mean but you chose to stay silent. You didn't want to ruin the high of your very good mood, in case the conversation didn't go the way you were hoping it would. 

After you got home and took a shower, you crawled into bed next to Jiyong who was facing your way instead of out into the room. You laid down, facing him, your eye closed, not wanting to look at him. 

"Listen.." je begins. You open your eyes. 

"I get it. You don't have to say anything. That was a one time thing. It's fine." You whisper. 

"What? Why do you think it's only a one time thing?" He asks. 

"I overheard you the night before our wedding." You breathe. "Bitch means nothing to me." You quote. 

"That was then. This is now. Over the last few weeks of watching you, being near you, your energy, your smile, everything about you, I'm falling. Hard." He tells you. "Look at me." 

You open your eyes, looming into jis pleading eyes. He wants you to believe him, to see that he's telling you the truth. 

"I am too." You whisper, a smile creeping up on your face. 

That night you fell asleep embraced in Jiyong's arms, finally everything felt like it was going to be okay. But that's just life isn't it? Making you believe things are finally working out when in reality, everything is about to fall apart. 

The next morning you woke up and stretched while Jiyong's hold on you tightened. 

"Good morning." You whisper. 

"Mhmm." He answers, reaching under your shirt to cup your breast. "Yes it is." 

You stick out your ass into his crotch, his hard cock poking you. "Tease." He moans. 

"Me? I never." You gasp, wiggling from his grip. You roll him onto his back, pull the covers from jkm before you pull his boxers down and you allow his morning wood to spring free. 

You move yourself between his legs, gripping his shaft with your one hand before opening your mouth and wrapping it afound hks cocm. 

"Oh god." He moans, his hands resting behind his head. 

You bob your head up and down, sucking harshly while also moving your tongue around the tip of his cock, making him moan.

"Fuck that feels amazing." He groans as you cup his balls, gently playing with them. 

You force yourself down as far as you can, his cock sliding down your throat. "Please ride me." He moans, bucking his hips. 

You let go of his cocm with a pop, getting up and standing over him. You bunch up the bottom of your shirt, as you lower yourself down, sinking down onto his cock. 

"Oh my god." You cry as he stretches you out. Without any hesitation you begin bouncing on his cock, your hands resting on his chest. He brings his hands to your sides, moving your hips to go back and forward. 

"Shit baby." He groans, moving you faster on his cock. You slow down the pace, dragging yourself against him, rubbing your clit against him, building your orgasm faster. 

You lean yourself forward, bouncing hard on him, craving orgasm, needing to feel it spread through your body again. 

"Cum for me." He moans, his hands still on your hips, now helping you move faster. 

"I'm gonna.." you begin before your orgasm hits, making your body shudder as your eyes roll bzcl. Jiyong keeps his hands on your hips, keeling your bouncing on his cock as he chases his orgasm while you ride through your high. 

"That's it baby." He grunts, moving you faster. "Just like that.. just like.. ahhh." Hr yells out, his cum spitting inside of you. 

"Shower?" He asks, helping you slide off his cock. A small giggle escapes from your lips as you nod your head, making your way to the shower before him. 

**

A few hours later while Jiyong, Taeyang and Daesung had business to attend to, you relaxed on the couch with a good book when your cell phone rang. Looking at the contact you saw it was your mother and you knew she never called unless it was an emergency. 

"Hello?" You answer. 

"Ayn.. please.. help." She whispers into the phone sounding terrified. "Please." She begs before the line goes dead. 

Without a second thought you snuck into Jiyong's office and grabbed the first pair of keys you saw, before speaking to the garage without alerting T.O.P. You couldng risk him coming along and something happening. You got in the car and started it before opening the garage door, speeding out of there as soon as you could, leaving T.O.P behind who had pulled out his phone, no doubt to call Jiyong. 

Forty-five minutes later you made it to your old house, taking the keys from the car you quickly ran inside the house, which was far too quiet for your liking. 

"Mom?" You call out. 

You can hear her whimpering from the kitchen. You go there and see her huddled on the floor, her head in her hands. 

"Mom. Are you okay?" You ask, walking towards her. 

"Im sorry Ayn.. i'm so sorry." She whispers. 

"Sorry for what.." before you can complete your sentence you are grabbed from behind, and taken outside by two men you had never seen. You see your father standing there, a smile on his face. 

"What the hell!" You yell trying to struggle out of the grip of the men. 

"You are his now." Your father says. "He paid me a lot of money for you." He chuckles. 

"What? You already gave me to Jiyong to settle your debt." You say. 

"Yes and now he wants you and already paid a large sum, so you're his." He says. 

"Who is he!? Let me go!" You yell. 

"Hello beautiful." You hear. Looking up you see Suho standing there with his head cocked to the side and a smile on his face. 

"You." You breathe. "Please let me go." You beg. 

"Nah. I wasn't too impressed with your husband last night and now your father has so graciously sold you to me. So you're mine now." He smirks, nodding his head to the side. The men who were holding you, take you to the van, tossing you in there without a care while your father ignores your pleas for help and walks back into his house. The van drives off, leaving you crying, banging on the window begging for someone to save you, hoping Jiyong would save you.

[polar534]

Hockey AU

Hi! I wrote an AU... that's not really an AU. Just a bunch of things and scenarios I think would happen in the future for Lumity revolving around one central idea:

Amity in a hockey jersey. (The Feral Brain though that started it all)

Sooooooooooo. Here we go. This first post is mostly about the Hockey Portion of the AU but like I said, it's ended up being alot of different scenarios. It is equally a (short term) future AU as it is a sport AU. I do eventually plan on making all of this into a chapter by chapter fic on Ao3, but if this gets some good reception I'll keep posting updates on here. I've already got multiple scenarios summarized and 4 fully written chapters.

ok but enough of that. Here goes:

Facts and World Building:

- This is about a year and half after the events of the show. (The girls be about 15-16)

- These girls are just dating. There's no drama. They are incredibly happy together. Which they deserve.

- Amity and Luz are living in the human world with Camilla.

- They spend weekends with Eda at the palace.

- Lilith and Eda are currently trying to restructure the entire Boiling Isles coven system. They have overthrown and taken down Belos and the Clawethorn sisters were named to lead in his stead. To the majority of The Owl Fam's surprise.

- Luz and Amity help them in their free time going around and helping everyone adjust and heal from the tyrants rule.

- The portal remains in the castle under protection. The Owl Fam and friends of The Owl Fam are welcome to use it, but any others must go through Luz. (Eda's decree)

- They attend Hexside during the day and homeschool themselves on human subjects before they go to bed.

Hockey Overview:

- Firstly. Amity's team is called the Otter's. She specifically chose that team because she knew the name would make Luz happy.

- Secondly. The entire team adores Luz. She's at almost every practice and is there for every game. So although she's useless on the ice, she is just considered a member of the team.

- Thirdly. Amity is extremely careful to stay within the rules of the game, but she doesn't hold back. Her role on the team is mostly defense. Her job (which she mostly assigned herself) is to keep the path clear for her teammate with the puck. If that means absolutely bodying anyone who comes near, then she does just that. (I mean, let's be honest she played heavy support in the grudgeby match we saw her participate in.) Amity has to really struggle with keeping her competitive/perfectionist side under control and not wrestling the puck away from the strikers every chance she sees an opening that others don't. It's a left over from her time playing Grudgeby.

- Fourthly and most importantly: Amity has tried to teach Luz to skate. Many times. Luz cannot skate. Luz cannot even operate on ice. If she is on the ice, she is clinging to Amity.

Summary/Timeline Thingy (under a read more cut because... oh my god I have a problem):

At first when Luz starts going (purely because she wants to support Amity), she's pretty silent. Just working on either school work, her glyphs or making a meal plan for both Eda and her mother because both are too busy/crazy to seem to take care of themselves. The team doesn't mind, and finds it pretty sweet actually. Especially when Luz will randomly look up and compliment one of them on a shot. Or how the girl seems to just stop mid-work to stare transfixed as the new blood is practicing.

Now that's just cute. Nobody can deny that.

Or that the newbie completely changes demeanor from stone cold and calculating to absolutely flustered and soft as soon as her girlfriend slides clumsily onto the ice to greet her at breaks and after practice.

Also. Cute.

All that slowly changes though because Luz is like... SUPER excited about Amity being on a sports team. Especially Hockey. She stays mostly quiet during practice because this is Amity's thing and she wants to respect that, but as soon as they get off the rink together Luz is excitedly discussing new plays and strategies or the best ways to hit the other players so they stay down longer. It's Amity's favorite way to wind down after practice. She's usually too tired to keep up with Luz's energy but she listens and relaxes into just how excited her girlfriend is.

Amity always takes into account her girlfriend's post practice discussions and will often put them into play at the next practice or game. It's extremely noticeable. Despite being new to the sport, and frankly seemingly still surprised by alot of "normal" customs and rules, Amity is getting really good. Not only is she skilled and strong but she's also catching on to strategies and plays that even the coach doesn't seem to always get. (Rec league because official coaches and team games sound boring honestly)

She starts to get approached by her teammates, asking her for advice or tips. While she can answer some of them, she normally just yells up at Luz (sitting on the bleachers) out of nowhere asking for her opinon, to which Luz somehow always has an immediate response prepared. Most often not even looking up from whatever she was doing to answer it.

Whenever someone asks her about they know so much about sports. Amity usually shrugs and just replies, "We're a team." Sometimes with a quip about how Luz makes them watch too many movies or something about Azura. That's when the team starts approaching Luz equally about stuff, and insist she start sitting on the sidelines with the team rather then the bleachers. Whenever they ask Luz why her and Amity know so much, Luz just gets a huge shit eating grin and waves her hands in front of her face as she says: "It's magic~".

Since keeping Amity's witchiness a secret is one of their biggest priorities, this always makes Amity really nervous. Not to mention she knows Luz is also referring to their relationship as magic which makes her get immediately flustered as well.

Its a win-win for Noceda. She gets to have fun with a secret only they know, and gush about Amity at the same time.

Soon enough, while Luz never actually goes out onto the ice, she's just a part of the team. Amity gets voted team captain, much to the current team captain's relief and while Amity keeps a monitor as to how her team is doing on the ice, Luz keeps a monitor as to how their plays are doing from the sidelines. They work together to switch members out at perfect moments and the Otter's go from a very basic team to being one of the top teams of the area.

Random Facts (read: I have no category for this stuff but it's important):

- Luz will often steal Amity's jersey, because its really baggy and comfortable and because it's Amity's. Amity has a STRUGGLE every time it happens. 1. It's way too cute. And 2. "Luz, I need that." "You going to come and take it Blight?"

- Regardless of how bad she is on the ice, Luz is really good with the hockey stick and surprisingly accurate with her shots. Her and Amity will often practice together in a field, and, when they're sure no one's watching/visiting Eda, they'll add their own magical twist to the game and have a 1v1 witches hockey duel.

- Luz loves it when Amity checks the shit out of players on the ice. She is one of THOSE hockey fans. And her girlfriend is brutal.

- King and Amity have a really good relationship in Hockey AU. They are both vent buddies. While Amity is in much healthier place and doesn't put as much pressure on herself anymore, she still gets easily frustrated. King, being the little dude he is, is also easily frustrated. Every week they get together for a vent session in which they chill out and watch a stupid movie in the background and complain about it to get the night going. It always ends up that they pause the movie before it's over because they're too busy going off about other things bothering them.

- Lilith and Eda share mentoring roles for both girls. It's not an, Eda for purely Luz and Lilith for purely Amity situation.

- Camilla is incredibly proud of her two girls and is incredibly supportive as well... but she can no longer go to any games or practices. The first time Amity got hard checked by an opposing player during a game, Camilla nearly stopped the entire match demanding she go down and look her over and make sure she didn't have any injuries. When Luz and Amity approached her that night, after she was asked to leave the game, she was grateful for the excuse. "You know I love and support you both, but I cannot watch... that. With good conscious. You'll just have to make sure you come to me if you're actually hurt. Ok?" She'll still come to Amity's big games, despite her anxiety.

- Amity has a scar from an injury she received in her first season's Semi-Final game. (I have ALOT of notes on this... it is one of the 'scenarios' I listed at the top.)

[sweetchup]

Peppermint Twist

Type: Feitan x reader

Prompt: O’Inari’s Wisdom — On any day during this week, people of the ages of 19-30 years old will go through a walk in the woods carrying a clear ornament (Traditionally it used to be a Jar). The ornament is usually filled with the person’s favorite scent or perfume, Name and Phone number on paper slip, and their dream type of lover on a rose petal. When walking through the woods, the person allows the God/Goddess of the woods O’inari’s Imps to trick them into meeting their soulmate. It is a must to switch ornaments with that first person they see for it is said the imps won’t allow them to leave the forest unless they do so.

Author Note: I hope you guys like this one. I’m very proud of it and I think I’m getting better at my romance scenes :)).

(Prompts/Rules) (Holiday Masterlist)

You had no sense of time as you walked further and further along the frozen dirt road. Everything was just very repetitive with never ending rows upon rows of snow covered trees that surrounded you. With each continuous motion and action, you grew more and more tired. Something quite unusual for you, Though there was a simple answer on why.

You were bored. Extremely bored.

The only thing that seemed to give you some sort of entertainment out here was when you would occasionally come across a rock and you could kick it along as you walked to see how far you could keep it going. Occasionally, you would spice things up a little by passing it between you and your teammate Phinks who walked alongside you. Though that never lasted long because of course Feitan, being the spoilsport he is, would turn around to glare at you two making Phinks stop and ruin your fun.

Feitan Porter. Ever since you joined the troupe, you never understood the guy. You tried greeting him the first time you two met but he just scoffed and blew you off. You could normally deal with a cold shoulder from him, even on a dangerous mission. But you never, never, understood why he would get so mad at you for the randomest of things.

Playing a video game with Shal, Feitan will give you a scoff and a glare. A drinking contest with Uvogin and Nobunaga, a death threat and breaking all the alcohol bottles. You were almost positive that one time when you were talking too long to the boss that he “accidentally” threw a knife at your head. A knife! At your very own teammate that is!!

“Hey,” Machi says, cutting through the silence, “How about we stop at that place for the night?”

Following where she was pointing to, you are surprised to see an old hot spring hotel. How weird, what was this doing in a place like this?

“But it’s not even dark yet.” Shizuku questions, confused as she looks to the still blue sky.

“Well that’s because a snowstorm is coming so we can’t camp outside tonight.” Franklin explains as he follows Machi up the stone path to the hotel.

“Oh, now I get it.” Shizuku answers before suggesting, “(Y/n), Machi, We should get a bath in after we check in.”

“Sure. Sounds good to me.” You answer, quickly catching up to Shizuku. A few almost breathless whispers could be heard behind you making you let out a deep sigh, “Shalnark. Phinks.”

The two freeze as they hear you call their names. Craning your head to look at the two, you give them a nasty glare. As well as slightly releasing your bloodlust as you venomously spit out a warning to the two. “If you two even think of peeping on us, not only will I carve out your eyeballs but I will make you wish you were never born.”

Phinks pales and quickly nods his head in understanding while Shalnark lets out a nervous laugh. Those two knew not to mess with you when you were angry. Especially from previous experiences.

“Good. I’m glad you two understand.”

—.—.—.—.—

“Ah~~ That was nice.” You say out loud to the two other girls as you walk back from the bathhouse. You truly felt fully refreshed from the herbal bath you were just in. Man, did hot springs work wonders.

“Yeah it also helped that you stopped the boys from peeping in on—“

“Hello ladies.” You three turn to look at the elderly lady wearing a kimono that had cut off your conversation. As she walks up closer to you three, you recognize her as the owner of the inn. “I hope you three are having a nice stay. I wanted to give you ladies these.”

You watch as the elderly lady pulls out three glass ornaments from her pocket. As you grab one, it strikes you what day it is. You can’t believe you forgot it was the first day of O’inari’s Wisdom.

“Ah, I can’t believe I forgot it was the holiday season.”

The elder lady chuckles at you as you look at the items given in the ornaments, “I hope you three take place in the tradition tonight. It’s good luck to do it before a snowstorm after all—“

“No need.” Jumping at the new heard voice, you turn around to see it was just Feitan. As he walks over, he forcibly takes the ornaments from you, “Not interested.”

“Hey Fei! There's no need for that!” You shout at him angrily as he chucks the ornament at the lady’s feet. A loud shatter is heard as it breaks all over the floor as well as some of it likely sticking into the elderly lady’s skin. Quickly, you get on your knees to pick up the glass. Hearing Feitan scoff as you do so, “I’m so sorry Miss. I’ll—“

The Elderly Lady cuts you off by placing her hand on your shoulder and giving you a warm smile. “It’s okay dear. I was being too forward anyways.”

As she says this, she sneakily places another ornament into the pocket of your robe; giving you a small wink as she does so. With a bow towards you and the rest she takes her leave.

Angrily, you stand up and whip around to give Feitan a piece of your mind. However, you only see that he was already long gone.

“Bastard…” You mutter under your breath, storming back to your room.

You were officially done with having to deal with Feitan Porter. Especially with his bipolar attitude towards you. You kept on wishing that he could, at the very least, make up his mind if he wants to ignore you or not. However you were now over with his antics. Clutching the ornament in your pocket a plan forms in your head. Feitan wasn’t the boss of you and you were going to prove that to him. First being by ignoring his orders and doing this tradition.

The loud slam of your door closing resounds throughout the whole inn as Machi and Shizuku continue to stand there. Letting out a sigh Machi finally starts to make her way back to her room.

“Machi, Why does Feitan do that to (y/n)?” Shizuku questions confused, following after her.

“Well, according to the boss and Phinks, it’s because he has a crush on her.” Machi explains. However, all she can think of is how stupid Feitan is being. (Y/n) has said, when drunk, that she does find Feitan attractive so he does have a chance of dating her. But all he keeps on doing is pushing her further and further away.

“I get that but don’t you think that was a bit much. Throwing the ornament at the woman’s feet.”

“I guess so…” Machi runs her hand through her hair as she gives one last goodbye to Shizuku before entering her room. Once in her room, she ponders for a moment. She didn’t think Feitan was going too far in that aspect. Afterall, She couldn’t pinpoint it exactly but something felt off about that elderly lady. It could be one of her hunches but she didn’t know if it was reliable enough or not right. Deciding to leave it alone for now, she goes to bed.

Afterall, everyone is safe for now so she can always deal with the hunch in the morning if she has to.

—.—.—.—.—

Lifting the lantern up further forward, you attempt to see what was up ahead through the forest. Honestly even though you haven’t seen or met your possible “Soulmate” like in the old tales, it was just an amazing time to be out by yourself like this. It was always a rare thing to get time to yourself, especially after joining the troupe. Though that was mostly because even after missions Feitan wouldn’t leave you alo—

A crunching noise is suddenly heard behind you. Whirling around you, you listen silently. You couldn’t see anything nor sense any aura right now but you definitely know you weren’t imagining that you heard something.

“I got you now!” At the sound of the voice, you quickly move away from the attack and hit behind you with your lantern. A sickening crack is heard as the lantern breaks against the person who attacked you. Moving away and turning around, you see oil that has leaked from the lateen has fallen onto the person and immediately caused them to catch on fire.

Walking up slowly to the burning body, you realize that it wasn’t a person at all instead it was a creature. A creature anyone could easily identify. Afterall, the ash gray skin with a sunken face and body was a dead give away.

“God damn blood sucking ghouls.” You curse under your breath as you throw the now useless lantern to the side.

Quickly, at the sound of more crunching of snow you get into a readied stance. Ghouls are known to work in packs or groups so more should be approaching nearby. Simply, you were in for a long night.

—.—.—.—.—

The knocking at her door immediately wakes Machi up. As she gets up, she immediately checks the time. It was only 2 in the morning. What was going on? She thought everyone was going to leave at 5.

As she leaves her bed, she hears the knocking only getting louder, almost to the point the person behind it was practically banging down the door.

“Coming! Give me a second!” Machi yells as she runs to the door. As she opens it she sees a bloody Shalnark at the door, “What the hell happened to you?! Where are the others?”

Quickly, she lets him in and attempts to bandage up the bloody wound on his arm. As Machi bandages it up she notices it wasn’t any sort of wound caused by battle but an unusual bite wound. As she goes to ask what happens, Shalnark was already ahead of her and begins to explain, “Turns out that the old lady running this inn was actually a ghoul in disguise. Her and her buddies use this hotel to attract customers to be easily attacked and eaten.”

“Shit,” Machi murmurs under her breath as she finishes up tying the bandage, “Where are the others? Do they know what’s going on?”

“They sho—“ Suddenly, the opening of Machi’s room door cuts the two off. Machi quickly gets in a fighting stance but, thankfully, all that walked in was Feitan.

“You idiot. Knock next time, I was ready to cut your head off.” Machi scolds as Feitan looks around the room. Though when he walks out from checking the bathroom, both Shalnark and Machi finally notice the worried look on his face.

“Fei. What’s— Hey wait!” Shalnark shouts, watching Feitan run off. Standing up, Shalnark and Machi go to the door. “What was that—?”

“Machi! Shalnark!” Turning their heads the other way, they see Shizuku and Franklin running down the hall.

“What is going on with Feitan?” Shalnark cuts in quickly as the two approach.

“It’s because we can’t find (y/n) anywhere. She’s not in her room nor anywhere else.” Franklin explains as Shizuku begins to look around. “Did you guys see her last night? Or hear anything?”

“No, the last I saw her was after taking our baths.”

“I haven’t seen her since we’ve checked in.”

Franklin lets out a grumble as he hears another door get broken down by Feitan, “Well I need one of you two to calm down Feitan while we try to look for her. She couldn’t have go—“

“Guys I found something!” Phinks yells out from somewhere in the hotel. As he does so, Shalnark is almost knocked to the ground by Feitan running past him to where Phinks was located.

“Calm the fuck down Feitan!” Shalnark shouts out as Machi catches him from falling. Clutching his injured arm as he runs after the man, the others close behind as well.

As they approach to where Phinks was, they see him outside, yelling off into the dark woods with Feitan nowhere in sight. Turning around at the opening of the door, Phinks angrily says, “I found (y/n) footprints but once I tried to explain the bastard ran off on me!”

“Well we sho—“ Shizuku grows silent at the loud noise of a growl. Conjuring up her vacuum, she gets ready to fight, “Actually, it seems we have some company.”

“Yeah.” Franklin agrees as the others grow tense at the growling getting louder, “Feitan will be fine on his own. We need to first deal with the ghouls still in the hotel.”

—.—.—.—.—

You shakily inhale and exhale as you focus on your breathing. The fast falling of snow flurries melting on your warm face. Shit, you didn’t expect a sudden drop off the hill like that.

You attempt to move your feet but it only causes you to groan in pain. Not good, you bet you broke at least one of your ankles from that fall. Not counting the injuries in other areas you probably sustained.

Rolling off of your side, you drag yourself through the snow to the wall of the hill you fell off of. You could hardly move right now, so you don’t know how you would fight or defend in a situation like this. Your only possible choice was to hide and wait. At least until the sun rose.

Carefully, as to not injure yourself further, you shimmy and lay your body underneath the thick bushes that covered the edge of the wall. Once settled in, you feel a harsh gush of wind hit against you. The wind was so cold, so frigid, that you have to close your eyes because it practically burned to keep them open.

As you continue to squeeze your eyes shut as you lay there, the wind only grows more and more stronger. Almost as if it was attempting to pull or drag you somewhere.

“(Y/n)”

Your eyes shoot open at the call of your name. Though as you open them, you don’t see anything in the pitch black forest around you. Was it just the howling of the wind deceiving you?

“(Y/n)!”

There it was again, it can’t possibly be the wind. The voice sounds familiar as well. Who was that calling for you?

“(Y/n)!!”

Now closer, you recognized who the voice was. The feeling of hot bubbling tears roll down your cheeks as you attempt to answer back.

“F-Fei” The first time hardly comes out as a whisper and you have to call out again, “Fei!!”

The wind pricking at your skin slowly dies down as you hear the loud sound of snowy footsteps running up to the bush you were hiding in. At first, you were worried that maybe you had attracted a ghoul to your location instead of Feitan but once the feeling of a warm collapsed hand touches your cheek, that worry goes away.

“Fei.. Eep!” You can’t help but let out a whine as Feitan harshly pulls out of the bush by your collar. The pain from all your injuries shooting up and down your whole body. “Ow! Ow! Be gentl—“

Without a single warning nor care, Feitan harshly grabs the back of your head and kisses you. He kissed you so harshly it was as if he was telling you how much he hated you. As if he loathed every single part of you. Rough with a harsh grip on your hair. Painful with a harsh bite at your lips. The bite was hard enough to cause you both to taste the harsh taste of iron, of blood, hitting your tongues.

As Feitan slowly pulled away from the kiss, you were sure, even with it being a kiss, Feitan Porter was telling you he hated you.

You weren’t surprised, you think to yourself as you close your eyes. Feitan had proved to you many ways before that he hated you. Honestly, he probably thought it was so annoying to have to come find you out here.

A wetness suddenly hits your cheek. At first you think it was snow just melting. But, then you realize it wasn’t cold like snow. No, it was warm.

Then, another one hits you again causing you to finally  open your eyes.

“Fei?” You question, shakily lifting your hand up to the man’s cheek. Calmly, even though you are quite confused, you wipe the tears from his face.

“Idiot.” He curses out almost silently as he glares down at you, “What were you thinking?”

“I-I-“

You want to tell him why you did this. How annoyed you are with him with his constant bipolar attitude towards you. How you hate how he bosses you around. How much you hate him—

You feel yourself pause at that thought. The thought that made your heart ache. Was that correct? Did you really hate Feitan Porter?

“You weren’t!” Feitan shouts out snapping you out of your thoughts, “Did you leave for this?!”

You feel Feitan harshly grab something from your pocket and shove it into your face. It was the ornament you had made.

“You just had to go off in the forest for some stupid ass male that doesn’t know two shits about you?! Just because you want to go live happily ever after!”

You grit your teeth as you push the ornament out of your face.

“Is it wrong to want to meet your true love, Feitan? Someone to stick by my side, someone to care about me, someone who—“

“I LOVE YOU, (Y/N). ISN’T THAT ENOUGH?!” Feitan screams at you, breaking the ornament with his bare hand. Even with the feeling of glass and blood hitting your face, you don’t flinch nor attempt to move. Neither does Feitan as he just continues to look down at you. An unreadable expression on his face.

“I-I… You...” You attempt to speak. Possibly to answer Feitan, give him some sort of reassurance but the words die in your throat. You just didn’t know what to say.

You think for a little bit longer before you chose what to say, “Feitan you’ve always been enough. But…

You can’t stop yourself from shivering in the cold. You’ve been out here for way too long.

“B-but… I’ve never known how you felt. You might have thought I did but I never. I’ve always thought you’ve sort of.... hated me.”

It’s silent once again, yet this time you can’t bring yourself to look at Feitan’s face. You think for a moment maybe you should try to suggest to just head back. But, before you do that, you already feel Feitan standing up as he holds you firm in his arms.  

You believed that you two were heading back to the hotel but Feitan doesn’t make an attempt to move or even make his way back to the hotel. You finally turn back to look at Feitan and, for the second time that night, Feitan captures his lips in yours.

This time the kiss wasn’t harsh, not even the slightest bit. His lips moved softly against yours, moving carefully and slowly to perfectly model against your lips. Feitan places a hand in your hair but it wasn’t like before, no not at all. His calloused hand caressed softly through your hair, almost soothing and petting you in a way.

So soothing in fact, that you didn’t even realize you had draped your arms over his shoulder and were kissing Feitan back.

As he pulls away, he can’t help but go in to peck your lips once more, and then another, before finally pulling away.

He stares at you for a couple of seconds, as if he was taking in how looked right now, before saying, “I’ll prove to you me loves you and then…

Feitan slowly leans into your ear, his harsh voice against it causing goosebumps to pop up in that area,

“...I’ll steal your heart. So, that you can never love anyone else other than me….”

[stitchandani]

Story:

Lilo's College Days That Defining Moment The story of the moment Lilo and Mertle stopped being enemies and started, super slowly, being friends as teenagers. Written by Doverstar. Read below

16-year-old Mertle Edmonds didn’t go barefoot anywhere unless she was in her room. Especially not when every single pair of her sandals was a designer brand. Unfortunately, tonight she had to make an exception. It was a performance celebrating the 50th anniversary of her hula school. Being only two years from graduation, Moses, their Kumu, had decided to allow his oldest students to star in a special dance they’d all worked together to create. It was always easy working with Yuki, Teresa, and Elena. It was even easy working with Victoria. Mostly. But Lilo…Lilo Pelekai always had the worst ideas—the weirdest ideas. She was always trying to stink up the show, steal the spotlight. Luckily Moses didn’t approve half of her plans during the brainstorming, and the dance had come out okay. In fact, Mertle had shone out more than she usually did tonight. She did her part perfectly—the swing of her hips, the smoothness in her steps, the waft of both arms. Not a single slip-up, and not a curly hair came out of her ponytail. And of course, doing hula required she go barefoot. That made total sense. What was really not like her was running through the muddy trail down to the beach without shoes on. She didn’t intend to. She just had to get out of that building. Her mother had been there to congratulate her after the performance, as always. Moms gushed a lot, but at least Mertle could always say—with confidence—that  her mom wasn’t doing it just because she was her mom. It was because, obviously, Mertle deserved every bit of the praise she received. When Mertle had gone to change into her green tank top and blue cutoff jeans, after the audience had all but left, she took her sweet time. It was even better that she got to the only bathroom right before Lilo had, so she got to see the sweet flash of irritation in those too-close-together brown eyes. Even that blue thing, Stitch, looked vexed. (Mertle had been telling herself for years that she didn’t know exactly what Stitch was, even if certain events during her childhood proved otherwise. Events and a talking dog who was probably asleep in her bedroom right now.) If Victoria hadn’t gone home so quickly after the show, she probably would’ve been annoyed for her creep friend too.  Some nights just went too perfectly. Upon emerging from the bathroom, the redhead found that everyone was staring at her. As well they should—she looked great. But it was a different kind of staring. There was something really concerning in the way Teresa was practically biting her lip off and the way Moses seemed to be struggling to say something. “What?” Mertle tossed her ponytail, hands on her hips. “What did I miss?” Her mother, eyes strangely puffy, pushed past Moses to put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. Mrs. Edmonds’ glasses looked foggy. “Mertle…sweetheart…” Was she getting all choked up? Why? Mertle’s eyes cut to Elena and Yuki and back to her mom. How embarrassing. Whatever it was, couldn’t it wait till they got out of the hālau first? Nobody liked a blubberer. Totally unprofessional. Her mom had always been just a little overemotional with, well, basically everything, and it got old fast. “Mom, everybody’s looking! What—” “It’s—Carl. It’s your daddy, Mertle.” Words blurred after that. Something about a phone call, something about missing the show tonight, something about “driving under the influence”. Mertle heard it. She just didn’t register what exactly had happened in the last twenty minutes. Her daddy couldn’t be gone. There was no way. He was rich; he owned a store, a resort, three convertibles. He was too important to be dead. As Mertle looked around, past her hysterical mother and at the remaining faces in the room, all she could hear was her own heartbeat. Everyone was still watching her, why were they watching her? She didn’t want to be watched. She didn’t want all the attention now. Not now. Couldn’t they take a hint? Wasn’t this one of those times where everybody was supposed to go away? Or just not be here? She hated the way they were gawking at her. Her daddy was

gone. What did that mean? Mertle felt it slowly sinking in further and further. Carl was dead. He died just moments ago. He was here then and now he wasn’t. Her face tingled. She knew she was about to cry, and she totally hated people seeing her cry. Didn’t cry often. She wanted her mom to give her one of those too-tight, really unnecessary, unwanted hugs, but everyone seemed frozen. Even Mrs. Edmonds. In that split second, Mertle looked at Teresa. Teresa looked away. Then Elena. She fiddled with her hair and glanced at the wall. Yuki met her gaze, just for a moment, and then she started fidgeting in her hula skirt, eyes downcast. The only person who stared right back at her was Lilo. Lilo was unashamedly waiting for Mertle to look at her, and the sympathy there, sympathy that was so clearly genuine, was almost enough to make teenage Edmonds gag. Without another word, she pushed past her mom, Moses, her classmates, and bolted out the open door into the warm night air. So there she was, barefoot, running through the slightly-damp path through the tropical woods to…she didn’t know where. Maybe the beach? Not home, no thank you. Mertle wanted to be alone, where those morons in the halau couldn’t find her and stand around being useless again. She didn’t know what she’d wanted them to do. Something, hello! Funny; she always knew what she wanted. Well, she knew what she did not want. What she didn’t want was...basically everything they’d just done. A whole lot of nothing. Nothing. That was what they were, after all, right? All of them. They were nothing. Not as important as she was. Not as talented, not as pretty. What had she expected? A posse wasn’t supposed to be a hug or a kind word.  They’d never mattered that much in her world before. Except when she needed someone to yell at or to agree with her. So why did their actions back there matter now? She was out of breath already. Really needed more exercise. Wasn’t a dazzling hula career enough? Okay, maybe not a dazzling career, not yet. But someday. And practicing for it was clearly wearing her poor, hard-working body thin. She paused, hands on her knees, gasping for breath. She must be tired from the incredible show she’d just put on. That was it. Not out of shape at all. No way, not her. Someday she would have a dazzling hula career; she’d be a sensation, and then… Dad won’t make it to any more of my shows. The thought crashed down on her like the waves she heard beating the surf off to her right, somewhere past the trees and the palmettos. The weight of what she had learned just moments ago was finally starting to make her ache, and Mertle slumped against the trunk of a palm tree. Tears ran down her nose, and she felt herself sliding down the trunk, hugging her knees as she crouched in the sand. Moonlight trickled through the branches and stars twinkled in the clear sky. Mertle didn’t spend a bunch of time outside, unless it was a weekend. She might have enjoyed the night wind playing with her ponytail. If her daddy wasn’t dead. He used to visit. When she was little. When she was 5, 8, even once when she was 10. He’d bring her expensive gifts from his store in Honolulu. She wore a bangle he’d given her now, right above the old charm bracelet on her wrist. It said Daddy’s Little Princess in letters that used to be hot pink. She had been young enough then that being a Princess seemed an achievable goal. Here in the present, it was for luck. Or maybe to remind herself he existed. Because until today, she hadn’t heard from him in three long, disappointing years. Hadn’t seen him in five. Why was he gone? She needed him! Without Carl in the world, she felt…it was like she wasn’t special anymore. Like she wasn’t important, like she wasn’t a star. Her daddy, when he had bothered to show up or call or write or send her presents, had managed every time to make her feel like she was somebody. She believed it, too, to this very night, because he told her so often when they were together. He told her how amazing she was, and how lucky, because she had him for a father,

and he could give her anything. Not to mention a mother whose job gave them whatever they didn’t already have. Now there was nobody to remind her how incredible she was. How incredible she just had to be. She would start to think it was all a lie, and she was just as ordinary and witless as any of those girls in that stupid school. Because the one person in the world who believed it as much as Mertle had was on the side of a road somewhere, never to open his eyes again. “It’s not fair,” Mertle sobbed. “It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair.” She jumped when she heard someone behind her. “Mertle?” Mertle thumbed the moisture out from underneath her glasses. “Go away.” “I know how—” “I said go away, Weirdlo!” Lilo was quiet as she slipped her yellow duffel bag off her shoulder, letting it drop in the sand, kneeling beside the redhead. She was in khaki shorts and a red top. Must’ve changed while Mertle had been running. It looked hideous on her. “I know how you feel,” Lilo said almost neutrally, going on as if Mertle hadn’t snapped at her. Mertle refused to turn and look at her. She so did not need this, not right now, not from…it. “You? Puh-leeze. Don’t make me laugh.” “I do,” Lilo insisted. “You’re probaby really confused.” She crossed her legs to get more comfortable. “And scared.” Her voice got lower and she looked at the hands in her lap. “And lost.” Mertle rolled her eyes, but that made hot tears spill faster down her cheeks and she rubbed them off angrily, worried her makeup would smear. “What do you know?” “I know you’re really gonna miss him. You talk about him a lot.” “Yeah, right.” Mertle scoffed, almost laughing for real then. “He wasn’t even a good dad! He was never here. Why should I care?” “But he was still your Ohana, right? I mean...he was still your dad.” Mertle was quiet for a second, contemplating that. Yeah, he was still her dad. But even so, what kind of dad up and leaves for the big city when you’re 2? Or stays away for years at a time, just so he can expand some dumb store? But he’d still come by every once in a while. He’d take her out to get some of Luki’s shave ice. He’d watch her surf. He’d even taken her to get her ears pierced. And when she picked out her first pair of earrings and held them up to him, two little diamonds, he told her they were dull compared to… Mertle felt her chest heave again and she turned her body further away from Lilo, to shield the mess she was obviously becoming. Worthless. She was worthless now, because she did have him to tell her otherwise. Stupid man. Why had he done this to her? What was he thinking? Had he been thinking of her as he died? Had he been scared? He’d been all alone. Lilo put her hand on Mertle’s shoulder, and the bespectacled puddle finally craned her head around to glance at her. “Why are you doing this?” Mertle demanded, sniffling, voice harder than she thought it would be. Lilo didn’t retract her hand. “I lost my dad, too,” she reminded the girl. “I know what it’s like right after….” She didn’t finish that part. Closing her eyes as if going back in time for a moment, Lilo sighed very softly, and Mertle thought she’d never heard someone sound so tired. Then Lilo opened her eyes and caught Mertle’s gaze again. “Anyway. I didn’t want you to be by yourself.” She managed a smile. “Nobody gets left behind.” Mertle gawked at her. She’d gawked at Lilo Pelekai plenty of times, dozens, hundreds. All the time they’d known each other, Mertle looked down her nose at Lilo. She’d sneered and called her names for over ten years. When they were children, the Edmonds child’s sole purpose in life had been to make her rival miserable, because if someone else could be miserable, Mertle wouldn’t have to be. This too-creative, too-nice, too-weird native teen was a freak. An oddball, a dork, a loser, a total irritant. The fly at Mertle’s lifelong picnic. Lilo was gross, loud, pathetic, had terrible taste in fashion… And she was the only one who’d stayed. Yuki, Teresa, Elena, they’d all looked away. But Lilo...Lilo had stared back, because

something of merit was happening to Mertle, something that mattered. She’d run after the girl who had tried to drag her down with every breath she’d taken since they were five years old. She acted like Mertle was important. Like Mertle wasn't worthless. Like she cared. Like they were friends. And slowly, through her tears, Mertle smiled back.

[prettyboylovemail]

[Hana + Juzo] As Long As We’re Alive

FINALLY! I finished this fic that I’ve been working on all week!

I recently rewatched the Danganronpa 3 anime and wanted to figure out how my S/I would fit into the new killing game! Including interactions with my favorite character from the anime cause I can’t help myself 👀

(Also, for a bit of context: This takes place following my S/I from DR 1 surviving the Hope’s Peak Killing Game!)

As such, this will include anime spoilers!! Keep that in mind!

I worked super hard on this, so I hope you guys enjoy!!

Also a big big thanks to @duncanlovemail​ for helping me do some final edits and tweaks!! ❤️

—

In a split second, her life flashed before her eyes.

There were some good memories, sure, but mostly bad ones — memories of the last killing game she’d been forced to play overshadowed her happiest moments. And now, laying on the floor, staring wide-eyed at the tip of a katana, she could only remember the moments where she’d been this close to death.

But this time, she didn’t think she’d get to make it out alive.

There was a brief rustling sound from somewhere nearby, but Hana barely noticed it. It sounded as if someone was walking by and she silently begged that it’d be an ally. But as the footsteps grew fainter, she realized that she didn’t have any real allies left, and that she was only going to be left for dead. 

The man behind the corner kept walking. He’d seen the fight, or rather, the one-sided attack, but he paid it no mind. With a scowl, he left Munakata to finish his work. Who cares how many insignificant people died? As long as he made it out alive, then Juzo would slaughter every other person here. If it meant that Kyousuke would be victorious, then he didn’t give a shit about the rest.

Then why?

Why did his chest tighten up at the sight? Why did he feel a twinge of guilt leaving her to die? It’s not like that girl was anyone special or important — just some rookie from another division — so why did he feel like a piece of shit as he turned his back on her?

“Dammit, Juzo, this isn’t like you,” the man muttered to himself through gritted teeth. “Get ahold of yourself and keep walkin’. It’s none of your business.” It wasn’t until the next thing he heard that he stopped in his tracks, listening.

“Please, I-I’m not on the side of despair! I d-don’t want to hurt anyone! Please, believe me!!”

The girl’s voice sounded desperate, like she was crying. Juzo swallowed thickly, trying to take another step, but feeling his entire body stiffen up. Her voice rang through his ears, echoing in the empty hallway, the sound piercing his chest like a knife. 

“PLEASE, DON’T KILL ME!”

The man’s fists balled up, squeezing every ounce of strength that he could muster.

Shit!

“Kyousuke!” Juzo’s voice boomed through the hall as he spun on his heel. He felt the weight of his entire body shift and slam to a stop in front of the scene. Munakata paused and glanced up at him with no change in his cold expression.

“What is it, Sakakura?”

“Don’t worry about that one!” Juzo stepped forward, placing himself between Munataka and the helpless girl, frozen on the ground. “Your target is Makoto Naegi, isn’t it? Why waste your time on a brat like her?”

“Why are you interrupting?” Munakata’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Have you fallen to despair, Sakakura?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course not. But you know as well as I do that it’d be useless to kill this girl. She’s just some random kid, she doesn’t have anything to do with your plan.”

“She’s a survivor along with Naegi and the others. She’s in cahoots with them and as such, must be eliminated.” The katana glistened as Munakata turned it towards him. “And I will kill anyone who gets in my way.”

Juzo sharply inhaled. Was it really worth it, saving this kid at the threat of being turned on himself? He sent a glare behind him, seeing the frantic eyes of the shaking girl beneath him. Her eyes begged for him to save her, but pleading normally didn’t work on him. He turned back to Munakata and grit his teeth.

“What the hell’s gotten into you, man? Do you realize who you’re pointing that blade at?” Juzo raised his voice slightly. “I’m on your side, but right now, we need to focus on the real objective!”

“This is the real objective!”

There was only a moment to react. Time seemed to slow as the blade was swung, but not at him. The katana grazed past Juzo and towards the ground. He felt his heart stop as he reached out and—

“AGH!!” Juzo grunted out loud as the pain of steel cutting through flesh surged through his hand. Blood poured from the wound and it took all his might not to flinch back. He turned towards Hana, cowering barely a foot below the blade, and yelled. “GO!”

She took a sharp breath and squirmed away from the line of attack, barely able to keep her balance as her legs pushed her backwards. “W-What are you doing?” she managed to ask with a feeble voice.

Juzo gripped onto the katana with his opposite hand, keeping it in place as to not cut further into his hand. “Don’t ask stupid questions! Get the fuck out of here!! NOW!” His voice blared through the halls, shaking Hana out of her daze. She stood as quickly as she could and ran, hastily turning the corner. 

“Sakakura! Why are you letting her escape?!” Munakata shouted. “You’re a traitor to the cause—”

“No! I’m not!! Just listen to me for once, god dammit!” Juzo pushed back against the sword, yanking his hand away from the blade and jumping out of range. “Naegi is still on the move right now! Once you get rid of him, you can exterminate the rest of these stupid brats, you hear me?” There was a pause. “I won’t get in your way again, but we’ve gotta track down that bastard Naegi first.”

Another pause as both men decided their next move. When Munakata backed down, Juzo did as well.

“You’re right.” Munakata sighed, lowering his sword and re-sheathing it.

Juzo let out a sigh as well. “Good. Now come on, let’s go search for the brat.”

“Alright…”

—

The two men walked down the empty hallways, searching, scanning every corner for an enemy. Neither of them said anything, and the atmosphere was only growing more tense with every passing minute.

“Kyousuke,” Juzo started, breaking the silence between them, “those wounds don’t look so hot. We should find you a first aid kit.” When he didn’t receive any response, he paused, before making an attempt to change the subject. “Hey, so—”

“What’s on your mind?” Munakata stopped

“Well, uh,” Juzo began, “Kimura’s been killed. Kizakura got poisoned, too. Oh, and Ando was stabbed by one of the survivor brats...” his voice trailed off. Munakata hadn’t reacted to a single thing he’d said and it was starting to throw him off. Did he care that their comrades were dying? Juzo glanced away. “I… just… thought you oughta know…”

“Tengan, as well.”

Juzo’s eyes widened, “No joke?”

Munakata’s voice was cold and unwavering. “I killed him myself.”

It took a moment to process what he’d said, but it was unmistakable. Kyousuke had murdered the chairman. Of course, Juzo was always on his side, but this… didn’t seem like him. And his best friend’s icy demeanor was really concerning him. He knew that Munakata was willing to do anything to achieve his goal, but this—

“Right, sure…” Juzo turned away, putting on a smile to hide his uncertainty as best he could. “Hey, that’s good! This is what we wanted, isn’t it? To purify the foundation.”

Munakata said nothing, just stared at his friend’s back as he continued.

“Heh. ‘Bout damn time. This baby’s in your hands now, chief. You’ve been promoted.” When he still received no response, Juzo continued further. “No one in their right mind is gonna contest it. The revolution’s over, and the spoils of war are all yours! I’ll help, of course. We’re gonna fix the Future Foundation! After that, the world.”

Finally, after a couple of moments, Munakata spoke. “The world, you say…” Juzo turned to face him. “Hey, Sakakura. We go back. You’ve been at my side for years in fact, since we were students.”

“Uh, yeah…?”

Munakata’s eyes closed. “We had our share of good times, the two of us, and Yukizome, of course. Eyes always on the future. Three friends intimately bound together by the same ideals.”

Juzo paused.

“Our mentors were supportive. Tengan always found the time to give me advice. I held firm that the world could change. That I could be the one to change it.” Munakata balled his fist, opening his eyes, but kept them focused down. “That conviction hasn’t left me. It’s as strong as ever…”

“Yeah, sure…” Juzo also looked away, “Hey, it’s strong in me too, ya know. Always has been.” He returned a determined gaze to his friend. “Backing you up’s been the whole point of my life. I take a lot of pride in throwin’ down for your ideals.”

“I know you do… And you’re right, my friend,” Munakata said with a heavy expression. “Without your unwavering support, I would’ve never made it this far.”

There were a couple moments of silence before Juzo spoke up again. “Look, I— There’s something I gotta get off my chest, okay?” His heart began to race. Why did he suddenly feel so nervous? Was it because he was finally going to say it? Finally going to tell Kyousuke how he’s always felt? Or… was it something else? Something more… disconcerting…? “To be totally honest with you—”

“Enough!”

And in a flash — before he could even react — a sharp, searing pain surged through his stomach as Munakata’s fiery blade pierced through his midsection. He coughed, blood erupting from his throat and filling his mouth with the revolting taste of iron before spilling from his lips. The smell of burning flesh filled the air in an instant.

What…?

“K-Kyousuke…”

Blood quickly spread from the wound and in the next second, Juzo’s feet gave way beneath him and he collapsed onto the cold ground. He lay there in agony as the severity of the situation hit him. He choked and gasped for a breath, craning his neck, struggling to look up at the man who’d betrayed him. “W-What the hell, man? Why… would you… do this?”

Munakata’s voice was just as cold and uncaring as it was before, and it sent a shiver down Juzo’s spine as he lay on the floor beneath him.

“You know why. You know exactly why.”

And with that, Munakata turned… and left. His words hung in the air over Juzo, who lay face down, cursing himself as he felt his senses begin to weaken. He didn’t bother to watch his friend leave him there. He couldn’t bear the sight.

Why did it come to this? 

Dammit!! Why?!

Then everything faded to black.

—

Hana staggered through the halls, dragging her injured ankle beneath her. It’s not that bad, she told herself, as long as she could keep moving. As long as she was still alive. Her thoughts drifted back to earlier, when Juzo had saved her life. It’d been almost two hours since then, and the next time limit was approaching soon. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stumbled.

Why was she so useless?

Even in the previous killing game, she couldn’t do anything to protect her friends. She couldn’t save those she cared about. She just had to stand by and watch as the ones precious to her died brutal deaths. 

That included him…

Hana stopped and pressed her back to the wall behind her as the tears she’d been trying so hard to hold in fell down her cheeks. Why did she have to think about him right now? The girl felt her knees weaken, and she slid down to the floor with a heavy breath. Here she sat again, completely powerless to stop the deaths happening around her, unable to do anything besides cry. She despised her weakness. 

It might be better if I just sit here… and wait for someone to come and kill me…

As if on cue, the sound of footsteps pulled her out of her thoughts. One? No, two people, she guessed. Were they enemies? Friends? Hana’s thoughts raced. Should she run? Stay put? What would she do if someone attacked her again? Was… it even worth fighting back?

It wasn’t until she heard the sound of familiar voices that she stopped.

“Kyousuke, those wounds don’t look so hot. We should find you a first aid kit.”

Juzo? And Munakata is with him?

Hana froze up in a cold sweat. Juzo had saved her once, but he was still loyal to Munakata. If they were still together now, then— Her hands began to shake. He wouldn’t spare her again.

The sound of footsteps stopped as the two men continued talking just around the corner. Hana wondered if she should run, but her body remained stagnant, completely paralyzed.

“Tengan, as well”

“No joke?”

“I killed him myself.”

Munakata had gotten to the chairman already? Then, there was nothing stopping Munakata from killing everyone else too. Had he already killed Makoto too? Hana kept listening, as silently as possible.

“Look, I— There’s something I gotta get off my chest, okay? To be totally honest with you—”

“Enough!”

The sound that came from around the corner was enough to make Hana’s blood run entirely cold. The sound of metal plunging through flesh. The sound of Juzo crying out in pain. A heavy thud. 

No way…

There’s no way…

“Why… would you… do this?”

“You know why. You know exactly why.”

Hana’s hands clasped over her mouth to keep herself from gasping. Her entire body shook and she felt dizzy. She knew that they weren’t aware of her presence, but hearing that felt… directed. If Juzo hadn’t stepped in to save her, if he’d just ignored her and left her to be killed, this wouldn’t have happened. 

Juzo is going to die because of me.

Just like before—

I can’t do anything.

This is my fault!

Footsteps faded as Munakata walked in the opposite direction. Once she was sure he was gone, she risked a glance around the corner and saw Juzo lying on the floor, unconscious and bleeding. Her legs moved on their own as she rushed to his side, frantically checking his wounds. Thankfully, the stomach wound had mostly cauterized due to Munakata’s blade, but he was still bleeding out slowly. Hana took off her jacket and tried tying it around his stomach in a hurry. “God, please,” she gasped. “Please don’t die.”

Once she’d finished securing her makeshift tourniquet as much as possible, Hana wrapped her arms around the man, attempting to pull him up just enough to move him, to no avail. She just wasn’t strong enough to lift him, and dragging him would only cause more damage. “Damn it…” the girl cursed, frantically searching the area. She didn’t want to leave him here, but there was no way she was going to be able to carry him to safety by herself. She had to get help or—

“I’m not going to let you die, I promise.”

Hana stood and ran down the hall, looking for anyone who would be willing to help. Maybe if she found Makoto. Or Koda— Izayoi should be with her, right? Juzo said that Ruruka had been killed, she could only guess that Koda’s the one who’d done it. If she found the two of them, they could help—

“Please. Please. Anybody.”

—

Hana’s eyes fluttered open slowly, a groggy dizziness overtaking her as her vision attempted to clear, and she scanned the area around her, disoriented from just having woken up. She glanced down at the bangle donning her wrist, still displaying the forbidden action she’d been cursed with, and let out a deep sigh. She’d made it through another time limit alive.

Thank God…

She filed through her memories, trying to remember everything before she’d dozed off. She’d found Juzo laying on the floor, bleeding, after his falling out with Munakata; that part was clear. But after that— Hana frowned— she couldn’t really remember much. She postulated that the time limit had stopped her from finding help, and she figured that if Juzo were still alive, that she wouldn’t know where to look for him. She could only hope that he’d survived.

The girl staggered to her feet, slightly swaying from a lack of balance, and stretched her arms into the air. “Alright,” she muttered to herself, “what to do now?” 

For a moment, she considered looking for an ally, someone who’d be willing to team up with her, but the thought was fleeting. With her forbidden action being as fragile and deadly as it was, Hana figured that it’d be best to stay alone for now, what with Munakata on the hunt. She counted the number of known victims in her head, trying to figure out who was left. 

Makoto, Kyoko, Hina, Koda, Izayoi, Munakata, Ryota, and, maybe, Juzo. 

Including herself, only nine people remained alive out of the starting seventeen. She grit her teeth. Too many people had died already. 

History was repeating itself.

Suddenly, there was a screeching sound, signalling the overhead speakers turning on. Hana glanced up, trying to find where the noise was coming from, before a voice came through. 

“Makoto Naegi.”

Munakata—!

“If you’re awake, I assume you’ve figured out what Kirigiri’s forbidden action was.”

She took a sharp breath and her body went rigid. Kyoko…? Her forbidden action? Hana’s eyes widened with shock. 

Is Kyoko dead?!

The voice on the speakers continued, but Hana was only half listening as she repelled the urge to throw up. The pit in her stomach only continued to grow as she heard Munakata call Makoto to confront him alone. He was planning to kill Makoto, she’d already known that; but now, with Kyoko dead, he would be falling right into Munakata’s trap, spurred on by emotion and his relentlessness to push forward. That’s just always how he is — how he was back then too — and Munakata would be anticipating that.

Hana rushed from the room she’d taken shelter in, scanning the halls for anyone else. If Munakata was able to use the loudspeakers, then he should be in the broadcasting room, so if she just avoided there, then she would be fine and she could get help to back up Makoto. It wasn’t much, but she had to try.

The walls around her were broken and beaten to hell, with blood splattered against the dark concrete and rubble scattered across the floor at every turn. The sight made her nauseous, but she had to keep moving. No matter what, she had to push forward too.

As she turned a corner, Hana bumped into something solid and lost her balance. Her ankle twinged with discomfort and she let out a pained groan as she fell backwards. “Agh… shit.” Noticing movement in her peripheral, her eyes darted up to see what, or rather who, she’d crashed into, and she was hit with a wave of relief.

“Damn it. Can’t get anywhere without runnin’ into one of you brats, huh.”

“Juzo!” Hana exclaimed, half from the reassurance to see him alive, and half out of worry that he was still loyal to Munakata. Although, she considered, after what happened between them, she couldn’t say for sure that he was still on Munakata’s side. “How are your injuries?” As the girl stood, her eyes drifted to his midsection; the tourniquet she’d wrapped around him was gone, but his wound wasn’t actively bleeding anymore. Juzo must’ve noticed the concerned look on her face, as he only scoffed in return.

“I’m fine. What’d’you care anyway?”

She made a dejected noise of acknowledgement and glanced away. “Sorry, is that a bad thing?” When he didn’t reply, Hana let out a soft exhale. “I saw what happened… between you and Munakata. I know it’s not really my place to intervene, but I couldn’t just… leave you there, ya know?”

Juzo sighed, a low growl escaping his throat, “So you saw all that.” He looked down at the ground, an expression on his face that was somewhere between anger and sadness. He clearly felt betrayed. Understandable, all things considered. “Fuck,” he cursed as he sat on a nearby slab of rubble, “this whole thing is such bullshit! How did it get this far?”

Hana stayed silent, watching the man in front of her. He was normally so aggressive and strong, but seeing his posture fall and his confidence crumble, it filled her heart with a nostalgic sadness. The same feeling that she had before, before that sickening execution, seeing someone so strong that she had nothing but admiration for collapse into weakness and despair. That feeling of helplessness as she couldn’t do anything but watch from the sidelines. It hurt to see the same thing happening yet again.

“I’m sorry…” Hana spoke gently as she sat beside him. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and keeping her gaze fixated on the floor. “...for what happened. If you hadn’t had to save me, he wouldn’t have—”

“Shut up.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t have to save you. Hell, I thought that I should’ve let you die back there.” Juzo spat out his words with no hesitation. “Even I wondered why I bothered to step in.” Hana didn’t say anything, and only kept her eyes on the ground. “But what’s done is done. And even if I didn’t come to save your sorry ass, Kyousuke already had it in his head to betray me. Leaving you there wouldn’t have prevented anything.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Hana mumbled. “You two were so close. Why would he have tried to kill you if he didn’t think you were on Makoto’s side?”

There was a pause.

“That’s the question, ain’t it…” Juzo sighed. “I gave everything to show him I wouldn’t hesitate to kill for his ideals. I really would’ve killed that bastard Naegi with my bare hands to prove that.” He slumped over, raising his wrist to clearly see the band hanging from it, “If it wasn’t for this damn thing, I could’ve done it by now.”

“But would killing Makoto really have put a stop to all this?” the girl questioned, sending a glance over her shoulder.

“Dunno. Don’t really care either, at this point.”

Another pause, this one longer than the last.

“Then, let’s end this game.”

“Huh?” Juzo scowled at the girl. “What do you mean by that?”

Hana’s eyes glinted with determination, “The attacker is still out there, right? That’s why there’s a new victim after every time limit. So if we can find and stop the attacker before the next time limit happens, then the game should end!”

“Forget it. If you wanna get yourself killed, then go right ahead, but I’m done.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t give a shit what happens to the rest of you.”

“But you want this game to end too, don’t you? Or would you rather just stay locked up in here forever?”

“Tch. Even if you think you could find the attacker, how would you be able to stop them? They only show themselves when everybody’s knocked out, so how do you plan to fight them?” He gestured down to Hana’s leg. “And with your busted up foot, I doubt you’d be able to handle yourself if push came to shove.”

That seemed to make the girl back down, as her shoulders slumped in realization. “Well. I don’t know yet. But I still want to try, ya know?” Her eyebrows knitted together. “If I don’t do anything, it’s only a matter of time before everyone is killed off one by one. I don’t want to let that happen again.”

Juzo groaned in frustration, “Right, I get it. You’re trying to play hero just like Naegi, aren’t ya. Cause of that other killing game, right?” Hana kept quiet. “Jeez, you brats are all the same, thinkin’ you can change things by stickin’ your necks out. So damn annoying.” 

He gave her another harsh glare. “So what if I entertain your little suicide mission, huh? How do I know you aren’t just pullin’ a fast one on me, trying to get me to lower my guard?”

“What?”

“Say, hypothetically, that you’re actually the attacker. What makes you think that I can just blindly trust anything you have to say?”

Hana paused and stared at his face before sighing and closing her eyes. She moved her wrist into view, showing off her bracelet, and the message that circled around it in big, red letters. 

SUSTAINING AN INJURY THAT DRAWS BLOOD

“I haven’t shown anybody this,” Hana said quietly. “I’ve been too worried that someone would use it against me, so I’ve been avoiding everyone else.” Her voice was soft, yet full of resolve. “Earlier… even if I could’ve somehow escaped from Munakata alive on my own, one tiny cut from his blade would’ve been enough to do me in. If you hadn’t come when you did, I would’ve absolutely died... one way or another. All it would take is the smallest drop of blood, and I would be dead.”

“So, what?”

“So that means that I’m willing to put my trust in you. Maybe that’s a dumb decision, but I don’t want to doubt people anymore! And if I don’t do anything, more people will just keep dying. If that means taking a few risks, then so be it.”

“Yeah yeah, I heard you the first time. But unless we can get these stupid bracelets off, we can’t do shit. You’ve gotta accept that.” Juzo paused. This girl, as annoying as she could be, was persistent to say the least — more stubborn than he would’ve given her credit for. It reminded him of before, back when Chisa was still alive. She was persistent and determined, just like that. She wasn’t the strongest person, far from it. She was emotional and irritatingly cheerful sometimes, and the look that Hana had on her face right now looked exactly like her. 

Juzo glared at the girl for a moment, studying her expression for any hint of ulterior motive. It wasn’t like he thought she had it in her to play mind games, but with everything that's happened up to now, he couldn’t underestimate anyone. Not again. 

“Tell me something. I’ve been wondering for a while. ”

“Hm?”

“Why do you keep following me around, anyways? You’re not gonna confess your love or something, are you?”

Hana was clearly caught off guard by the question, but found herself giggling in reply. She brought up her hands to dismiss the implication. “No, no way. Believe me, I don’t have any interest in you like that.” She gave him a smug look. “Plus, I don’t really think I’m your type—”

“Get on with it.”

The girl laughed, “Got it, sorry.” A moment passed and she gazed off somewhere down the hall, a forlorn look gracing her features. “Well, it’s just that…”

“...?”

“...You remind me of someone. That’s all.”

Juzo gave her a questioning look, but she paid it no mind. “So that’s it, huh.” He’d be lying if he said the sentiment wasn’t at least a little bit mutual, but he’d rather die before saying that out loud. “Well, I couldn’t give a damn about that.”

“I know.” With a soft chuckle, Hana kept her eyes down. “It’s kinda silly, isn’t it? To try and keep someone’s memory alive by projecting them onto someone else… it’s stupid to think that’ll help anything. But even so… it’s given me a little bit of courage.” Hana faced Juzo with a bright, albeit somewhat forced, smile. “So it can’t be all bad, right?”

“Tch…” The man clicked his tongue in annoyance. “If you say so.”

The sound of a distant rumbling caught both of their attention and they shot to attention. Juzo jumped to his feet, while Hana’s entire body straightened up.

“That has to be Munakata! He should be fighting Makoto right now,” Hana exclaimed. “We have to help!”

“I told you to forget it! You’re already hurt. You shouldn’t even be walking around so much, much less trying to fight,” Juzo snapped back at her.

“But if I don’t, then Makoto’s going to die!”

“So be it! If he decided to confront Munakata, that’s his own damn business! This isn’t your fight to meddle in!”

“I’m not going to sit back and let another one of my friends get killed!” Hana shouted, standing on her wobbly legs. “If you’re going to still side with Munakata after all of this, then fine, but I’m going to try to help my friends!” She only made it a few steps before a hand gripped her wrist and forcibly yanked her backwards. 

“Don’t be stupid! Just stay here and don’t get in the way, otherwise you’ll end up dying too, you hear me?!” Juzo yelled, squeezing the girl’s arm tight so she couldn’t break free. “If you’re so fucking concerned, then I’ll handle it.”

“What are you talking about?” Hana asked, wincing at the pain in her wrist. 

“You said it yourself! The tiniest cut would be enough to kill you, wouldn’t it? So just find somewhere to hide and stay put.” He released her arm and the girl pulled back to rub the spot he’d grabbed. At this point, Juzo didn’t even know what he planned on doing, but all he knew was that this stupid girl was going to get herself killed if she tried to fight Munakata again. Regardless of how he personally felt about the matter, he knew that her determination would be useless in this situation. “You’ve already done enough, so just stay outta sight and don’t die, got it?!”

Hana stepped back, a confused look on her face, but ultimately didn’t make any more attempts to oppose him. She exhaled softly and nodded. 

“Okay.”

And without a second thought, Juzo ran off into the darkness.

—

Shit… Why’d I let myself get roped into this…?

Juzo breathed heavily, grasping at his sleeve, soaked in blood, as he staggered through the dark halls. He figured it was almost time for the next time limit, although he couldn’t be sure of that anymore. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the throbbing pain surged through his left arm, and he risked a glance down to where the bangle had once been. With his hand now gone, he was free from risk of being poisoned, but the cost of passing out from the pain wasn’t far behind him. 

“D-Damn...it…” he muttered through strained breaths, “This is… all ‘cause of… that girl…”

He thought back to their earlier conversation. He had no initial plans to take what she’d said to heart, not like this, but seems that today was full of surprises, wasn’t it? All that shit he’d said before was just a means of shutting her up at the time, but after pondering it for a while, he realized what he had to do.

He’d set off to find Munakata and Naegi, to stop them from fighting, by however he deemed necessary. Whether that be by stopping Kyousuke again, or by killing the brat that started all of this, he would end this damn game. It wasn’t until the beeping of his wristband caught his attention, to signal that the time limit was fast approaching, that he remembered Hana’s plan. As reckless as it was, he knew that if one of them were to be able to pull it off, it would be him. That’s when the solution to get rid of the bracelet came to mind, and if it took a drastic measure, then that’s what he’d do. So he endured through the pain, biting the fabric of his jacket, grinding it between his teeth as he did what needed to be done.

But now, as he wandered the empty halls, with only the ominous glow of red from the monitors to guide his path, he wondered if he’d made the right decision. He had barely any strength left, why waste it on trying to fight off the attacker when he should be preserving it just to stay standing? Bullshit...

That’s when he heard it, the sound of screaming echoing in the darkness. Was somebody getting attacked? It almost sounded like—

Juzo took off in a sprint, dashing through the hallways. Anger surged through his body like electricity, but he skidded to a sudden stop at the sight before him.

Makoto Naegi, kneeled on the floor, a knife poised to his throat. 

In a split second, Juzo was at top speed again, his strides slamming into the ground with every step.

I don’t think so, you little bastard!

One swing was all it took to knock the knife from the boy’s hands. He paused in confusion, looking around for a second before Juzo gripped him by the arm and raised him to eye-level, slamming his elbow to Naegi’s throat. He writhed and flailed under the pressure of being choked, but Juzo didn’t waver. 

“You’re the man who defeated Junko Enoshima. If you think I’m going to let you kill yourself, then you’re dumber than you look!” he growled, pressing his arm further against the boy’s neck. “You hear me, you little punk?! Not now. Not ever!”

After a few more seconds of struggling, Juzo released Naegi, letting him fall to the floor in a heap as the boy coughed and gasped for air. He looked up at the man in confused distress. “H-How are you even—?!”

Juzo picked the knife from the floor, gripping the handle. “You wanna die so bad, then allow me.” He raised the blade, fully intending to strike and end this right then, but stopped himself mid-swing when Naegi recoiled. He looked pathetic, like a small animal cowering in fear of its predator. Juzo scoffed and dropped the knife, his feet collapsing beneath him as his strength started to waver. “Dammit…”

“How are you still awake?” Makoto asked, staring at Juzo intently. That’s when the boy noticed the crimson-soaked sleeve and gasped, “Y-You cut off your arm?” He looked at the man with concerned eyes. “Well, that’s one way, I guess.”

“Figured I could make the scene before it happened…” Juzo muttered, his energy depleting quickly, “I could meet whoever’s behind this god-forsaken game face-to-face. Take out the attacker and be done with it.” 

Naegi’s eyes widened when he realized Juzo’s intention, and paused. “There is no attacker. There never was.”

“...Huh?”

“It was suicide. The victims— They were all brainwashed into killing themselves by what they saw on the monitors.” Juzo followed Naegi’s gaze up to the glowing monitor. “When the time limit was up, we were all knocked unconscious. But whoever was closest to a monitor got woken up by a special signal from their bangles. Awake and alone, they were subjected to a video. After that…” his voice trailed off, leaving the implication as it stands.

Juzo slumped over, his expression darkening. “Who did this? What sicko piece of shit thinks this is entertaining?”

“That, I don’t know. At least not yet.” Naegi raised a hand to his chin in thought. “But they wouldn’t even need to be here for it to work.”

“What are you tellin’ me? They could’ve set this up? Controlled it remotely?”

“Probably.” Naegi straightened up, sending a determined smile over in the man’s direction. “On the bright side, at least we don’t have to suspect each other anymore.”

Juzo could only laugh at what he was hearing. Rage boiled through his veins, and it took everything in him to keep himself in check. “So what are we supposed to do now? It’s all a shell game. We’ve been manipulated from some unknown other place. Killing each other like a bunch of animals.

“Yukizome. Gozu. Kimura. Some video brainwashed them into taking their own lives? All the horrible things we’ve done to smoke out the killer and it’s been us?!” Juzo gripped the handle of the knife in his fist once again, shaking with anger. He slammed the blade against the concrete, breaking it in half. “Son of a bitch!”

There was a long pause as Juzo took a breath and collected himself. Everything he’d done — everything he’d tried to prove — it was all for nothing. This entire damn game has been nothing more than a way for some bastard in a far-off place to enjoy a good show while they all chased their tails like a pack of rabid dogs. Juzo stood again, turning and taking a few steps down the hall.

“What are you doing?”

Juzo gritted his teeth. These fucking brats and their million questions. What did it matter what he did now? Why was everyone so concerned about him and whatever he was doing?! “I have somewhere to be,” he forced out. Really, he didn’t know where he was going to go, or what he was going to do. Nothing mattered anymore.

“Let’s end this game.”

He paused, stopped dead in his tracks. What the hell? Did all these survivor kids have the same brain, or was it just coincidence that this brat said the exact same useless shit that she did? Whatever, he didn’t care. He didn’t have to listen.

But of course, that didn’t stop the words from coming. “If we destroy all the monitors, that should do it,” Makoto urged. 

“Heh.” Juzo sent a glance over his shoulder. “You got any idea how many of those things there are?”

“B-But—”

“Don’t let me stop you. Just don’t expect me to help either.” With those words, Juzo continued walking. That’s right. It didn’t concern him. He didn’t give a shit what the others did anymore. But still, that uncomfortable twinge of guilt in his chest tugged at him. The same one he felt when he saved that girl’s life. Juzo tried to force the feeling down, but it stayed, regardless, and his feet stopped yet again. He remained quiet for another second before breaking the silence. “True story… I wanted you to die. I’d have gladly done it myself.

“See, I’m not a man who can just forgive and forget. I hated you. No, from the moment you walked out of Hope’s Peak High School alive, I loathed you. Despised you,” Juzo growled. “So, I’m not gonna lie, when Munakata told you to kill yourself, I thought, ‘it’s about damn time’.”

“But why?” came the feeble voice of the kid he hated so much, “I don’t…”

“Because…” Juzo glared back at him. “You defeated Junko Enoshima.” 

When he saw the confused look on Naegi’s face, he continued. “Yeah, that’s right. Bitch played me like a fiddle. I knew she was up to something, and I kept my mouth shut.” The anger he’d been feeling surfaced even faster as he balled his fist. “I had one job and I botched it. So this is the result…” Juzo raised his mutilated arm and gave the boy a pained smirk. “It’s all on me. I couldn’t stop everyone dying... I couldn’t kill you for Munakata...

“And in the end...” Juzo’s eyes narrowed, his eyes stinging and his chest throbbing, “he threw me away. Like an old pair of boots.”

“He was wrong! It’s the game!” Naegi called after him. “The man was fooled into thinking you’d gone over to the enemy!”

Juzo kept walking, gripping his injured arm as he stepped into the darkness.

“Tch… No kidding…”

And this time, he didn’t turn back.

—

“Dammit…”

He didn’t think anything mattered anymore. He knew that whatever he did at this point would ultimately be useless. But… even so…

“If I don’t do anything, more people will just keep dying. If that means taking a few risks, then so be it.”

He kept walking. Kept moving. Through the pain and the dizziness, he kept pushing forward. Was this because of that that girl said? Or because of the brat? Or were these his own thoughts? Juzo didn’t know anymore. With every blood-stained step, his breathing staggered. Every motion felt like a hundred bricks weighed on his shoulders. But he had to keep moving. As long as he was alive, then he could fight.

Juzo pushed on, making his way towards the breaker room. His movements were slow and heavy, but determined to make it there. As he stepped through the Monokuma-printed door leading into the hidden room, he scoffed at himself, at the effort he was making. “Well, damn. Guess I’m a Despair now…” he let out a dry laugh that came out as more of a cough. “Wish I could find the humor in—”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before his foot gave way beneath him, causing him to stumble forward and crash into the wall. A cry of pain erupted from the man’s throat as he collapsed and slid down the wall, leaving a bloody trail behind him. And as Juzo lay crumpled on the ground, bleeding out from the wounds he’d sustained, he smiled. “This is what I get for letting Enoshima off the hook…” Everything in him wanted to give up, wanted to close his eyes and fall into the depths of darkness right then. 

But he couldn’t die yet. Not until he’d finished what he said he’d do. 

Not until this fucking game came to a bitter end.

With the last quarter of strength he could muster, he pushed himself onto his knees, draping his body against the breaker room door in order to force it open. He gazed down at the long line of switches. “Always been too much of a softie,” the man grinned to himself.

Juzo reached up, struggling to move through the crippling agony, and grabbed the first switch.

“...‘Least that’s what they’ll say about me.”

—

Hana sat alone with her knees pressed to her chest. It’d been too long, and the silence was starting to drive her crazy. What was everyone else doing right now? Was anyone else even alive? The thoughts that plagued her mind had continued to worry her, but she forced them down.

Everything’s fine. We’re going to make it out of here. All of us.

Then suddenly, everything went black. Hana jumped, startled by the sudden change, but relaxed slightly when the emergency lights came on. The room she’d hidden in was then illuminated a deep red, and the girl stood up to investigate. “Does this mean…?”

She peeked out into the hallway, not seeing anyone nearby. The girl stepped out and her foot swelled up in pain at the sudden movement, but she didn’t stop. Hana staggered along the wall, looking for anyone else to confirm what she’d thought. However, she didn’t have to wonder for much longer. With one final beep, the wristband that’d acted as her shackle for the entirety of the game snapped and fell to the ground. Hana touched her wrist, finally freed from the burden of death, and she let out an exasperated breath.

Is the game finally over?

It only took a couple minutes of walking to notice a few drops of blood on the ground. Her eyes followed the trail, seeing the drops become larger and more frequent as they moved down the hall. The dots began to connect in her head, but she shook them away, not wanting to assume the worst. She followed where they led and was brought to a room she hadn’t been to before. 

“A library?” she questioned aloud, seeing multiple bookshelves lining the walls, “Or maybe a study?” Her inquiries were cut short, however, at the sight of a body coming into view from behind the couch. Hana let out a gasp at the startling sight. Ruruka lay on the ground, a singular gash across her neck, a puddle of blood recently drained from the wound. Her eyes were wide; her expression twisted in shock and pain. She must’ve been caught off guard, Hana assumed.  A closer look revealed something glinting from inside the corpse’s mouth, what looked like a piece of blue candy on her tongue.

They did say she’d been stabbed, but did Koda really do this? She was never the type to murder someone in cold blood, even if it was someone she hated.

As brutal as the scene was, Hana gulped heavily and attempted to move past it as best as she could. Ruruka probably deserved it in all honesty, as horrible as that sounded, but that didn’t make seeing her dead body any easier to handle. Once she met up with Koda and Izayoi later, she could ask them about it, but she shook her head to rid herself of the image. Ending the game was the top priority. So she continued deeper into the room.

The trail of blood, now in large puddles, led into another area, a space behind one of the bookshelves that’d been pried open, it looked like. Hana glanced inside to find a hidden room, one a lot darker than the previous one. She stepped inside, following the trail further until she entered a final door. And when she peered inside, she froze. 

That’s…!

Slumped against the back of the room, one hand on the final switch, lay the familiar figure of Juzo. She rushed to his side to check for any signs of life. Considering the amount of blood he’d lost on the way here, it was unlikely that he was still alive, but—!

“Oh God…” Hana stared into his face, eyes closed and a peaceful smile gracing his lips.

She checked his mouth for breathing. Nothing.

“No, no, damn it.”

Checked his neck for a pulse. Nothing still.

“God, please…”

She pressed her ear to his chest to listen for a heartbeat, every movement more frantic and worried than the last. Tears stung her eyes.

I can’t be too late!

But then—

Bu-bump.

A heartbeat. Faint, but still barely there.

Bu-bump.

Another one, even fainter than the last.

He’s still alive—!

Hana stood, her body shaking and her breathing ragged, and dashed from the room as quickly as her legs could move. “I promised that I wouldn’t let you die, dammit! I can’t fail now!”

She ran and ran and ran, turning every corner at top speed, searching for anyone who could help. Anybody. That’s when she heard the faint sound of voices at the end of the hallway. She didn’t know who, but she didn’t care. “Help!! Anyone, please help!!” she shouted into the darkness, praying that someone would hear her and come to her aid. 

“Fujiwara?” a voice echoed back.

As she ran farther down the hall, multiple people came into view, and tears of relief spilled from her eyes. The figures of her friends, as well as a platoon of soldiers that’d presumably been ordered to search for survivors, relieved the immense weight on her shoulders. “Makoto! Byakuya!” 

Finally, finally. They were saved.

“There you are!” Makoto exclaimed. “We hadn’t heard from you all day, we thought you were dead!”

“Don’t worry about me right now! Juzo needs help!” Hana shouted with as much conviction as she could muster. “He’s in the breaker room! He doesn’t have much time left, but he’s still alive!” She turned to Byakuya and his squad of reinforcements, in tears. “Please, we have to save him!”

Byakuya paused for a moment, taking in the information, before barking an order to his crew. “Three of you, follow Fujiwara to the breaker room and ensure Sakakura’s safety! The rest of you will follow Munakata and Naegi to stop Mitarai! Now! Go!”

“Yes, sir!”

—

The sun peered through the blinds into the hospital room, shining more light on the already blindingly white room. Juzo stirred a bit, then begrudgingly opened his eyes with a strain. He attempted to sit up, but the overwhelming pain caused him to fall backwards onto the bed.

“I wouldn’t attempt to move for a while. You won’t be fully healed for quite some time.”

“E...Eh?” Juzo struggled to see who was speaking to him, and squinted to see blonde hair and the shine of glasses being pushed up the bridge of the man’s nose. “Y-You’re… that rich kid… from the Hope’s Peak survivors…” he forced.

“Byakuya Togami, Future Foundation: 14th Division,” he scoffed, crossing his arms hastily over his chest. “I’d be offended that you don’t remember who I am, but I’ll give you a pass due to your injuries.”

“What are...you doing here? Why am I… still alive?”

Byakuya sighed, “Well, to answer the first question, it’s been about 4 hours since the killing game ended. I’m only passing through on official business to check in on the status of the remaining survivors. Naegi and the other members are also here on business as well, albeit in separate rooms.”

“Tch…”

“And as for the latter,” Byakuya continued, sending a glance over his shoulder, “this one practically begged me to save your life.”

Juzo followed the blonde’s eyes to see a sleeping girl sitting hunched over in a chair in the corner of the room. The man clicked his tongue and pressed his head back into the pillow. 

“She’s the one who found you, barely breathing, and ran all the way to come find someone and led my squad back to your location. Once my team brought you into custody, we rushed you to the medical tent. It’s a miracle that you survived, honestly.” Byakuya sent a sharp glare in Juzo’s direction. “The fact that you’re still alive is extremely lucky. I’d be sure to give her your thanks when given the opportunity.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya,” Juzo sighed, but ultimately didn’t say anything else. 

“Well, now that you’re awake and are showing no signs of falling into comatose.” Byakuya stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It seems my work here is finished.” The man turned towards the door, taking a couple strides before stopping. “We’ll have to hold another meeting again soon to discuss the plans of the Future Foundation, but I would rest while you can. We’ll take care of everything for now.” And with that, Byakuya left. 

Juzo’d only been half listening, honestly, but he got the general gist. Still, he closed his eyes, processing everything he’d heard. The killing game was over, and he’d actually survived it. He had fully expected to die at the time, and had accepted that fact, but he made it out alive, thanks to her. He mentally laughed at himself. It was always thanks to her, wasn’t it? The only reason he was even able to end the game in the first place was because of her saving his life after being stabbed. And it was because of what she said that he kept fighting to the end.

I’m so damn pathetic, aren’t I? When did I get this soft…?

Then he drifted back to sleep.

—

Time will always pass. No matter the hardships, the tears, and the pain, life will always go on. Maybe the memories wouldn’t fade right away, not for days or weeks, even months or years, but with every passing day comes a new opportunity to make the best of your situation. 

Bad memories may linger, but life moves forward.

Hana stepped into the sun, a gentle breeze blowing wisps of her hair into her face. It’d been a week since then, and things have been getting back to normal as quickly as possible. The Future Foundation was still working on rebuilding their headquarters, as well as it’s credibility with the public, and they were still trying to figure out what to do with its remaining members. But despite all of that, the girl smiled at the bright blue sky above her.

They’d made it. Through everything, they’d made it.

“You seem awfully cheery for someone still hobbling around on one leg,” came a man’s voice from behind her. She recognized it instantly.

“What are you doing moving around out here, Juzo?” Hana turned where the voice was coming from. “You aren’t fully healed yet, ya know.”

Juzo scoffed, “I got tired of layin’ around in that stuffy room every day. Can only take so much boredom before I end up wanting to off myself.”

The girl put her hands on her hips and sighed, but made no objection. “Geez. If you keep pushing yourself, you’re only gonna have to stay longer.” She gave him a smirk. “Well, whatever. Just don’t get caught by the hospital staff.”

“Doesn’t matter to me. It’s not like I’m leaving the hospital grounds. Just gettin’ some air is all.”

“I know, but still.” She gestured for him to sit on a nearby bench and he reluctantly obliged, to which she joined him as well. After a couple moments of silence, gazing off into the distance, Hana spoke quietly. “Things have gotten pretty crazy lately, huh…” she muttered, “never expected it to end up like this…”

Juzo stared at the girl as she spoke before closing his eyes and leaning back into the bench. “I get what you mean. For one thing, I figured I’d be dead by now.” When Hana didn't reply, he changed the subject. “Did you guys ever figure out what happened to Munakata? Or where he is?”

She shook her head. “No, we didn’t,” the girl answered, “he wandered off somewhere and told us not to follow him, from what I heard. Mentioned something about bearing his own cross. I don’t think he’ll be coming back to the Future Foundation anytime soon.”

“Damn it,” Juzo huffed under his breath. “He’s always been like that. Thinking that he has to take on all of the burdens alone. He’s such an idiot.”

“I don’t think it’s stupidity.”

“What’re you gettin’ at?”

“I think he’s concerned about you and the others in his own way. ‘Course, I can’t say for sure, since I didn't really know him that well. But it seems to me like he recognizes that what he did was wrong and wants to put some separation between himself and the organization to allow for healing. 

“For both the Future Foundation and also for himself,” Hana spoke gently, “I think he needs this time alone to reflect. We shouldn’t urge him to come back if he isn’t ready to.”

“Don’t get all preachy on me,” Juzo retorted. “I know all that already.” 

The girl airily laughed a little, “Sorry…”

“So,” Hana leaned back, pulling one knee up to her chest, “what are you gonna do now? After you’re discharged, I mean.”

“Hell if I know…” the man sighed. “‘Dunno what I’m supposed to do now.”

The girl hummed in response. “Well… what do you want to do? Plan on looking for Munakata?”

“No. If he decided that he’d rather be alone, then I have no reason to chase after him anymore…” Juzo’s eyes fell to the ground. Before Hana could respond, he continued, “What about you? What are you gonna do now that the Future Foundation’s in shambles?”

“Hm, I don’t know…” She placed her chin against her knee, thinking deeply, “I think I just want to go home… wherever that is now…”

“Yeah,” the man let out a small breath, letting his gaze drift into the distance, “same…” After a few minutes, Juzo spoke up again, breaking the silence. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

He paused, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to mentally piece together the right words, “Why…’d you bother savin’ me back there? I get the first time was to pay me back for helpin you out against Munakata, but—”

“Because… I promised I wouldn’t let you die.”

“Huh?”

Hana brushed a few strands behind her ear and looked down, “I made that promise to myself and I… couldn’t break it, no matter what.”

“What’s up with that?” Juzo snapped back, “You got some kinda hero complex?”

She gave him an embarrassed smile and an empty chuckle, “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just…” she hesitated for a second, “someone I knew was… very stubborn about keeping any promise he made. And I guess that sorta just… rubbed off on me.”

“I see how it is,” the man replied, “one of the kids from the Hope’s Peak Killing Game, right?”

A light blush appeared on Hana’s cheeks as she pressed her lips together and fidgeted her thumbs in her lap. “W-Well…”

“Lemme guess, you had a crush on the guy. Then he died, so now you feel like you’ve gotta keep up his ideals in his place,” Juzo said frankly, not wavering for a second. “Sound about right?”

The small squeak that the girl made, along with her face turning a deeper shade of red by the moment, promptly answered his question. “T-That obvious, huh?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Juzo sneered. “But whatever, it’s not like I care to pry into some brat’s love life.”

Hana glanced away, leaning her cheek against her knee once again, “I know I mentioned it before, but you kinda reminded me of him, ya know. I think that’s another reason why I told myself that I had to save you, no matter what happened.”

“Uh-huh?” Juzo paused, giving her a questioning look. “You’re still not gonna say you like me or some sappy shit like that, are you?”

“I already told you it’s not like that!��� the girl huffed. 

“Just checkin’.”

“It’s more like… I dunno,” the girl thought for a moment, “you’re both so strong and aggressive and stubborn, but you’ve both got a soft side too. You care about your friends and are willing to do anything to protect those who are close to you. That’s something I really admire, so…”

“Tch, you don’t need to say anything else. I understand.” Juzo also looked away, an embarrassed expression on his face. “I’m not that big a softie.”

“I know, I know. But still…”

The two sat in silence for a while longer, watching a couple birds fly from their perch on a telephone wire. The wind blew softly. Even with all of the chaos happening around them, everything still seemed so peaceful. They still had a lot of work to do; the war against despair wasn’t completely over yet, but for now… 

Things were okay.

With a loud sigh, Hana stood. “Welp! Nothing’s gonna get done if we keep sitting around here.”

“Take it easy. Didja forget you’re still bandaged up too?” Juzo scolded. “You don’t need to push yourself either. Take your own advice for once, will ya?”

Despite Juzo’s harsh tone, Hana giggled. “Don’t worry, I’m alright. I’m mostly healed now. You’re the one in a lot worse condition, but yet here you are still walking around.”

“I’m a lot more sturdy than you are. I can take it.”

“Mhm, sure. You don’t need to act all tough.”

“Shut it.”

“Got it, sorry,” she said with a dismissive laugh. “But, I should really be getting back to the others. Gotta check in on some official Future Foundation business before I go home.” The girl gave a bright grin before turning her back to him. 

Juzo paused before pushing himself up as well, leaning heavily on his crutch. “Right. Duty calls, I guess.” He watched her back for a moment. “Hey, kid.”

“What is it?”

“If… you ever need anything. Just gimme a call, alright?”

Hana smiled softly and nodded. 

“Okay!”

- END -

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

You messed with my heart too long

A/N: I posted this anonymously on ao3, but I’m really proud of writing this so decided to post it on here as well. Please, please let me know what you think, it would mean the world to me. 

Summary: When Richie accidentally burns his food right at the same time as Eddie arrives home, he fears he's in for a verbal beat down. He's used to that thank to his ex-boyfriend, who mentally and emotionally abused him before Richie realized what he was doing to him. Once Eddie works out what is happening, he is quick to assure Richie he would never treat him in the same manner.

Warnings!: mental abuse, mentions of physical abuse and Bev’s abusive ex, Richie thinks Eddie going to react badly (he doesn’t but he still thinks about it) 

read on AO3

Richie, in all fairness, has never had any confidence in any way, shape or form. He’s not sure why that is. His mom and dad were good, loving parents that indulged into his secret little hobby’s, and when Richie at age 24, a fresh college drop-out, told his parents he was going to take a gamble and try to make it as a comedian, they supported him wholeheartedly. Of course, they were a little disappointed that he never got a degree in case things in the comedy field didn’t work out, but they were convinced of Richie’s talent. They were truly the best parents anyone could ever wish for, at least in Richie’s mind.

The losers were also nothing if not supportive towards him, though they had been long gone before Richie turned 24. They made fun of him sometimes, on the occasions where a joke ran too far or failed miserably, but they also made sure that Richie knew how much they adored him in reality.

Beside from getting scolded at every now and again by Eddie or Stan, about his hygiene or lack of self-awareness, they also never tried to change him to fit their wants. For some unknown, nonsensical reason, they liked Richie with his flaws and all.

Truly, Richie has no inkling as to where his insecurities came from, but he does know that he never let them stop him from doing anything when he was still friends with the losers. Quite the opposite even, if he got nervous about performing in front of his class, he would loudly ask to go first, laughing boisterously and slouching against the teachers desks, pretending like the activity wasn’t even a blip on his radar. When Henry’s taunt would hit a particular soft spot, and Richie felt the urge to sulk or mope, he’d double down on the thing Henry found annoying, and get a bloody nose for his troubles.

He fought hard to be ready to perform in front of people that weren’t the losers or his parents, and the losers departing from Derry just made that worse. With the losers, he felt confident enough to try and be himself, without them, he saw himself as useless in every sense. His very first live performance sucked, and in retrospect he’s really glad none of the losers were present because within five minutes of walking on the stage, he had forgotten his lines and threw up in full sight of the audience.

If his mother hadn’t persuaded him into trying again a few months later, and that one actually working out, Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier would have been buried before it began.

But that was before all the progress Richie made in all the years he’s been doing comedy. Despite having the occasional setback, he mostly outgrew throwing up before an act, and he could objectively look at himself in the mirror and conclude that he wasn’t the most hideous person the world had ever had the displeasure of seeing.

In fact, according to people on his twitter page, he was being described as hot and possessing a form of appeal that drew people in. He didn’t find himself good looking by any means, but there was a huge difference between hating everything about himself, and accepting that he was not as hideous as the beast from the Disney fairy tales he was a big fan of as a kid.

And then, in the prime of his mental health, he had met David, and every ounce of self-worth faltered like snow under the burning scorch of the sun. It only took five weeks for David to absolutely destroy the very thing Richie had toiled at for over twenty years.

David was his first boyfriend, who he met just shortly before his thirtieth birthday, and he took more than advantage of that. The first night they first laid eyes on each other, after one of Richie’s shows, David had walked up to him at a bar and promptly declared his show was absolute shit.

Normally Richie would feel hurt by these comments and would pretend to brush them off as if they were never uttered, but something about the way he said it caused Richie to laugh so hard he snorted part of his beer through his nose. It wasn’t until he saw Eddie with Bill and Mike at Jade the Orient ten years later, that his quarter fell. In the beginning, David had reminded him of Eddie. It wasn’t until much later that it became clear David’s intentions were not as innocents as Eddie’s.

Richie assumed the guy was pulling his pants, because who would dedicate their time to flat out insult someone they had never met, and so he had greeted him and bought him another beer. David wasn’t particularly funny, and he never laughed at Richie’s jokes throughout the night either, but he was very eloquent and could keep up with Richie’s conversation topics, though he always seemed to be able to turn and twist the subject so that it gave away another one of his qualities.

By the end of the night Richie never expected to hear from him again, and he was okay with that. His conversation partner had been interesting, but not to the point where Richie wanted to know everything about him or see him again.

David felt otherwise, as thanks to a mutual friend of theirs, he’d found Richie’s number, and when he texted him to ask him on a date, Richie had been too thrilled that someone was interested in him to containplat if he even wanted to go.

That same day the date took place, David had granted himself the title of boyfriend, and Richie went right along with him. They never officially verbally agreed to date, but they held hands and David slept over most nights then not, and his mother got so happy that she saw him with someone that things progressed naturally.

At first, Richie didn’t notice that David was influencing him in a negative way. He only had one close friend, Steve, who was simultaneously also his manager, and he constantly praised David for making Richie a changed man. Because Steve saw it as something positive, so did Richie.

His voice got progressively stiller, as David would ream at him multiple times a day that he was annoying everyone around them with his booming voice, and that he was an attention-seeker who would do anything to get the limelight on him. Richie practiced his voices less and less when David started to critic every aspect of them every time he would overhear him. It got worse once they started living together full time.

‘Hey Rich, no voices? Come on I want to know if you’ve improved over the years, let us hear it.’

He cut off all fatty foods when David glanced at his plate and grimaced, asking if he was really going to eat everything on the plate. He didn’t say it in so many words, but Richie could connect the dots that led him to believe David found him too fat. Lying became a sort of second nature to Richie, as he dared to eat a small pack of chips when David was away, and deluded him the next day by stating he hadn’t eaten any. Sometimes, at times where David thought Richie was away, he would observe him going through their trash to catch Richie in the lie. He’d fight tooth and nail to deny the accusation, and never admitted to it.

David complained just about everything Richie did, including the way he held his towel whilst drying the dishes, ‘For god sake Richie don’t rumple up, hold it in your palm and open it up so you can get to the surface more.’ When Richie tried to joke that David’s way didn’t necessarily mean the best way, he’d yelled that Richie was an ungrateful bastard and that if he had to do it his way because the way he was doing it was useless.

Useless, that was a word Richie learned to associate with himself as whatever he did would get dragged down by David, until there was barely any Richie left. Once again Richie began getting stage fright, worse than when he was a child, and on one evening David witnessed his total bomb of a show, and told Richie he had pretended he didn’t know him to the people watching. That hit so hard, the fact that someone was disgusted to be linked to him, that he stopped writing his own comedy and hired someone to do it for him.

There was so much negativity surrounding him and David, but when Richie tried to address his problems, David would make him seem like he was the one that was crazy. Like he was seeing things that were not there. David rolled his eyes and waved off any of Richie’s attempts to defend himself, but then denied doing it after the fact.

‘You’re a loser Richie, I can’t believe you’d be so stupid to take my ribs seriously. Aren’t you supposed to be a ‘comedian’? You’d think you’d know what’s a joke and what isn’t.’

A can of coke being set down too hard on their dinner table was enough to get David off of the couch, where he’d been watching football and ordering him around, and into the kitchen, striking a tirade that Richie was ruining their furniture with his fumbling. Richie was constantly on edge that he was doing something wrong - and he was according to David -. He avoided David as much as he could, but the latter would find something to fault him on regardless. Life had transformed into a prison cell.

Later Richie would scold himself for not leaving, but how could he? David manipulated him to the point Richie truly believed he was doing all of those things wrong, to the point where he was the one crying and begging for David’s forgiveness. He was gaslighted, manipulated and blackmailed at the same time, with gifts that weren’t a one-off after Dacid crossed a line too far, and they often contained a very expensive item that Richie had eagerly awaited for a long time. Richie felt like he owed it to David to stay, if only for all the money he had spent on him.

There were days Richie would get so furious he was prepared to scream back at David, to let his anger be set free and unleashed upon the one person who deserved it, but then David would show up with a gift out of the blue, or would grant him a loving caress, and Richie was gone for him again.

Not to mention that Richie’s self-esteem had sunk so low, he wasn’t ready to face a world without having David there to guide him along with things.

Barely five months before Mike’s earth shattering phone call, Richie ran out of all mental capacity to deal with the torment a moment longer, and packed his things, disappearing on a cold blistering night. David called him, of course, but Richie was a coward, and never answered the phone.

He only sent David one text to tell him it was over, and then promptly blocked his number without waiting for a response. He heard from gossip that David spread lies about him, and told other people about how much of a terrible boyfriend he had been, but Richie never objected to the claims. He agreed with him anyway.

Mike’s call had been, for a large proportion anyway, a saving grace. Reconnecting with his best friends and destroying the thing that loomed over him for so long was liberating, and Richie viciously wished that Pennywise had come back sooner, so that his tortures road would have been that much shorter.

There was no lingering bitterness inside of Richie because of this though, not when his life was finally in the best possible place it could be. Eddie and him got their heads out of their asses, or more like Eddie got out of his and decided to yet again be the brave one out of the two of them, and they started dating almost immediately after defeating Pennywise. In only a week's time, Eddie made the move from New York to Los Angeles, and with him he had brought the happiness Richie had long forgotten he could ever possess.

His marriage with Myra had been just as much a scam as the relationship between Richie and David, and his divorce was swift - no surprise there with the way Eddie always prepared for every possible scenario-, but Eddie almost always avoided talking about it. In a way, Richie was disheartened by that.

It was no secret Eddie married a woman that was basically a mirror image of his mom, and at times Richie caught himself wondering if Eddie had realized how smothering she was or if he had been so hunkering for the normality of life as a straight, married man that he never paid her enough attention too. He wonders if he was the only one stupid enough to not realize the gravity of what was happening to him.

Richie has debated on flat out asking Eddie about it, but, and there’s always a but, that would mean he would have to tell Eddie about David, and he is overcome with a rare form of anxiety, something deeply ashamed nestling in the place where his trust is supposed to be at the mere idea.

Swearing on the holy turtle god that managed to save them from Pennywise’s claws, Richie was originally planning on confessing the whole thing to Eddie on day one of their relationship. He truly was, and he had even conjured up humorous escape alternatives to duck his way under a fire load of questions Eddie was surely about to ask him after.

He even prepared himself to tell Eddie in Derry, right after overhearing Eddie’s phone call to his wife, feeling empowered that Eddie would come to understand. Bev interrupted before he could, perhaps a blessing in disguise. Before Eddie fully put down his phone, Bev had sweeped in the room, requesting a meeting downstairs to talk. Richie had been helpless to follow and listen intently, and if he was being honest with himself – he wasn’t – he felt a tiny bit of relief that he wouldn’t be subjected to any negative attention. Until Bev started to confess how her life had been before Mike called them.

All at once, a sickening hatred from himself overwhelmed Richie. He was so angry that he had dared to feel sorry about himself, and here Bev was, with a situation that was incomparably worse. The more details Bev entrusted them with – Richie may have promised to never kill anyone again, but he an exception could be made - the more Richie’s food from a few hours before threatened to choke him, and not even Eddie’s cream smoothed hand holding his distracted him.

Near the end, after they’d progressed from such an melancholically topic and began drinking away the booze in their hotel, Richie had drawn Bev’s attention with a call of her name, to either make her smile or to assure her that she wasn’t alone, Stan send him a withering look, as if to warn him not to open his mouth. Stan’s assumption was fair, it was in Richie’s nature to find humor in places there shouldn’t be, and he had no idea about Richie’s past to think otherwise. Still, every time Richie considered telling Eddie, the look flashed in his mind and sewed his mouth shut.

Not telling Eddie hasn’t impacted things the way Richie had predicted it would. Really, Richie was doing fine. Eddie chastised Richie on certain things, but Richie didn’t freak out or experience any sort of flashback. He would be given a peck on his forehead, or a hand running through his hair, and he’d know that Eddie was never mad at him. It was the littlest details that had Richie out of his mind with love, that highlighted just how different Eddie and David were.

By now, Richie had decided he was fine with not telling Eddie anything about David, and the extra weight of keeping something a secret was his boyfriend was just another fee to carry around with him. But life always throws a curveball Richie Tozier’s way when he has finally made plans.

This curve ball comes in the form of soup. A horrendous chicken soup that Eddie cooked up two days in advance, an experiment of different herbs that clashed into a symphony of flavors all competing to be the primary flavor. There are two things to know about Eddie as a cook. Number one is that he is not an impressive cook – and it’s not for the lack of trying - but Richie doesn’t mind. Eating food that doesn’t please his taste buds but getting Eddie in return for it is a fair deal in Richie’s books.

The second thing to note is that Eddie is a lazy cook. He turns the kitchen into a battlefield of different sauces, with jars a million different pots and pans skewed across the stove and no more room to place anything else left. It’s gotten to the point that whenever Eddie is in charge of cooking, they will not even put their dinner on a plate anymore, but instead leave it in whatever it’s made in, because it eliminates dishes to wash. That’s what starts the mess that day in first place.

Richie isn’t an idiot. Yes, he can be dense at times, and when it comes to loving Eddie he’s more than a bit moronic, but he’s not stupid. He’s had to survive on his own – and with someone who didn’t lift a finger - for a long time, thus there was no other way. He’s aware of the danger of putting a metal bowl in the microwave, and how it can cause the metal to heat up and start a fire, and therefor has never been stupid enough to try it. But today, Richie is stressed.

Steve has been calling him all day to try and persuade him into doing an interview for a magazine, and no matter how many times, how loud or agitated Richie says no, Steve still insists. Richie paces annoyed towards his fridge phone locked between his shoulder and ear, so he can take out the metal bowl of soup with his hands, and place it in their microwave without a second thought.

‘Steve I don’t care how much publicity you think it will get me, I don’t want to do it,’ Richie mutters, turning around with his back towards the warming soup. The consistent arguing with Steve has his teeth grinding, his shoulders tense and his anxiety sparked.

Eddie is still out for work, but it’s closing at five pm, the time he ensures he’s at home, and Richie thinks he can hear his car driving up into the gravel parking lot. The absence of his boyfriend is about to be filled, and Steve is yapping away in his ear, not content to admit defeat just yet, it’s maddening.

‘Steve… Steve listen to me, don’t get your panties up in a twist, I have to go. Don’t book the interview. I won’t take any part in it.’ His denial doesn’t put a stop to Steve’s yapping, but at that point Richie is over his nagging. He pinches the bridge of his nose and utters; ’Okay nice chat’, and hangs up without waiting for a response back.

He lets the phone clatter on top of their kitchen surface and says that Steve got the message, if only for the rest of the day. His phone doesn’t vibrate again, leading Richie to assume he has won this round. He can’t help but lean forward so far his head rests against the cold tiles of the kitchen counter, just sighing for one long, extended breath. A night in on the couch with Eddie spooning him has never allured him so much. His back cracks with a satisfying pop as he readjusts his body, and he groans in gratifications.

Their alarm dings loudly in the open concept kitchen, a warning that someone has just entered their driveway. Richie doesn’t need to go look to know that it’s Eddie and his large, black suv, but he wants to anyway. He’s about to walk towards the front door to greet Eddie like he’s a pet that has been waiting anxiously for its owners return – and some would describe him in the same manner - when the air fills with smoke and a rancid smell. It’s barely detectable at first, nothing more but an insentient odor that is unpleasant but not resolute and easy to ignore. But then actual smoke begins to wash it’s way around Richie, and he has a split second of blissful unknowingness left, until the problem dawns on him.

Richie follows the smoke trail, and is shocked to find their microwave steaming and actually crackling, like it’s on the verge of exploding. It probably is. Still, it’s nothing compared to the cluster bomb of fumes that spread throughout the room when Richie actually opens the microwave door and gets slapped in the face with the enormity. It’s a surprise that their smoke detector has yet to erupt.

Instantly, his airways fill up smoke, prickling his cough reflection so tremendously he doubles over in extortion. The coughs rattle his body in a painful manner, his chest and back start to hurt from the brutal movements and the fact that he can’t grasp fresh air no matter how wide he opens his mouth. Objectively, Richie should understand it can get a lot worse - their smoke detector hasn’t gone off, and there are no flames to accompany the smoke and therefore turn their house into a major safety hazard - but a panic he hasn’t felt since David has shut down his logical thinking skills.

A key is slotted into their keyhole, and it turns a first time to leave. Eddie is about to open the door, in give or take in about a minute – it always drags out because despite living here for give or take two years, Eddie still can’t remember this lock unlatches via the left side and not the right – and walk in on an absolute shit show that Richie’s engendered.

So far there was indication, no sign that hinted to Richie he still had leftover, undealt trauma left from his time hanging around David, but now, his only thought revolving around how mad Eddie is going to be, how much trouble he’ll be in once Eddie sees everything, he starting to realize he might not be as over things as he originally believed.

He ignores the way his lung burn, and reaches forward to grab the pot – with fogged over glasses rendering him blind - protection less, not even grabbing the oven mitts to provide some shelter for the warmth. He can’t comprehend how dangerous that is, can only focus on the red lights blaring in his mind, telling him he needs to get rid of the evidence before Eddie gets here and unleashes hell upon him.

Unfortunately, he’s too late. A door unlocks and Eddie enters the house. His feet pad on their wooden floor, brazen and fast, like he’s been waiting for a shot at grilling Richie and he can sense his opportunity to do so has arrived – the motion is so un-Eddie Richie dismissed it as absurd then and there, but a seed of doubt remains -.

With time, Richie comes to learn how to listen to the different footsteps, and he can now recognize who’s walking towards him and in what kind of mood they find themselves in, without taking one look at the person's face.

Eddie’s footsteps, after every work day, drag across their floor, as if a thousand pound weight has been added to his back. The bottom of his shoes wear out a lot faster than Richie’s do, and it drives Eddie nuts because out of the two of them, he’s the one that treats his material objects neater than Richie.

Richie’s always delighted to notice how light his footsteps get after just a few minutes spent with him or the losers.

Now, he is too scared to pick up on such little details. His palms tingle unpleasantly, the boiling liquid burning them more with each second he hangs on. He stands in the middle of their kitchen like a fool, turning his body every which way and letting his eyes dart out an escape plan. The smoke is nowhere near gone, and there’s too much of it for Richie to open a window and it to be blown away. Eddie’s going to notice, there’s no way he can’t.

‘Richie, you won’t believe what this imbecile Josh did at work today. I swear, I don’t understand how some people can get fucking hired sometimes.’

Eddie trudges into the kitchen, his suit wrinkled from a long day of frantically working on a report that should have been finished by some other incompetent coworker. The groves in his face are more prominent today, acquired by the years of unhappiness he experienced with Myra, the ages of his life cut off by the shock of Pennywise's return and the occasional busy work day his job supplies him with.

A nausea craters in Richie's stomach, filled with guilt for turning Eddie’s night off into a stressful event that requires a ton of clean up. Eddie stops dead in his tracks when he notices the mess, his mouth slips shut, the word dying on his tongue.

He’s waiting for Eddie’s frown to deepen, for his lips to cresting into a fury. He’s waiting for the waterfall of insults that will be hurled at his head, each one meaner than the last, honing in on his deepest insecurities and having them exploited because Eddie’s so angry he’ll do anything to strike a verbal blow. And it’ll be worse now, because it’s Eddie. It’s the love of his life doing it now, the one’s approval he seeks most.

Eddie’s the person that knows him inside and out and knows exactly what boundaries to push and prod out to crack Richie open from head to toe. He waits for all that, with his hand still clamped around the bowl of burning hot soup, scorching his palms – by this point, Richie is sure there will be blisters by the time he finally unclasps his grip.

Eddie’s frown does deepen, but it’s not out of anger. ‘Rich, be careful you’ll hurt yourself.’ Richie doesn’t let go, but holds onto the sides of the bowl tighter. Part of him wants him to experience the pain, to let what he did sink in like David’s words always did.

‘Richie’, Eddie says startlingly firm. He’s not trying to approach Richie or the bowl, but he’s capturing Richie’s attention just by his firm voice. ‘Put it down.’

Richie drops the bowl of soup, watching helplessly as it splatters all over their freshly painted walls and the ground. Out of the corner of his eye a flat glob of liquid drips down the wall, dirtying a whole line down to the floor. Richie cringes, his heart beating so fast he could swear it’s about to jump out of his chest, and his mind a mantra of ‘look what you did, look what you did, look what you did.’

‘Fuck Richie, did you burn it?’

And Richie knows he’s caught. He was, up to two seconds ago, holding the evidence right in his hands, but he’s so petrified logic is not operating in his brain at the moment. The only thing he can focus on with great clarity, is that he’s willing to try anything to get him out of a verbal tear down.

‘No..’, he tapers off at the end, leaving his statement much more alike a question than he would have preferred. Eddie raises one eyebrow suspiciously, pointily averting his gaze towards the smoke floating around them.

‘No?’ He asks back equally confused, head tilted to the side. Richie can feel his throat closing up in panic, bracing himself for an onslaught. He doesn’t foresee Eddie’s nurturing and concerned approach. ‘Let me take a look at your hands’, Eddie murmurs tenderly.

It’s technically nothing new, the way Eddie treats him. After Neibolt and Richie’s big coming out, Eddie commenced all his vacation days and flew Richie all the way to Hawaii, for the pure intention of getting him away from any and all consequences. He’d allowed Richie to eat what he desired - within reason of course, there was no way Eddie was allowing Richie to eat pizza at 8 am-, waisted their days sitting by the pool and indulged in Richie unchancy pranks - one of which ended up with Eddie scrubbing out blue glitter out of his hair. Eddie had been kind then, so it shouldn’t be surprising he is in this situation.

It doesn’t take away the fear Richie is left with. David had good days too, days that he was the perfect boyfriend, but that would never last long, and Richie is left to speculate if it’ll be the same thing with Eddie.

Maybe it’ll be hidden in a secret message, maybe Eddie is busy hatching a plan that will utterly deploy Richie from the inside out. Eddie’s hands are gently skimming over Richie’s palms, inspecting the damage without irritating the skin even more. ‘It doesn’t seem like it’s bad. It hurts right?’

‘Yeah’, Richie croaks when he figures out the question isn’t rhetorical. He isn’t sure at the moment why that’s supposed to be good.

Eddie tips forward, stretching up higher so he can kiss Richie’s forehead tenderly. Against his skin he explains. ‘That means the burn isn’t too deep, but hold it under the water still.’

‘No but you know what does go deep?’

‘Nothing if you don’t treat your burns,’ Eddie teases with a smirk. He gently ushers Richie closer to their faucet, and holds his own palm under the stream of water, twiddling with the different temperature taps until he finds one that he deems just lukewarm enough to allow Richie’s hand under it.

The smoke in the air remains unspoken about. It’s almost as if Richie is more important than a potential house fire to Eddie, but that’s absurd. Not only because this is the house that both of them felt was the right one, and subsequently paid a lot of money for, but also because Richie isn’t that special. He’s not even trying to be condensing towards himself, because he truly believes that.

‘How did you manage to do this huh? Idiot.’ Eddie jokes while guiding his hand under the water at the correct angle, his salutation gets smoothed over by a hand ruffling his hair. Coincidentally, or perhaps the exact opposite, a part of the stress Richie accumulated falls away when Eddie calls him an idiot. It helps to underline why exactly Eddie will never be like David, why the two aren’t in the same league of each other even.

When Eddie says idiot, it’s a nickname, it’s a middle school jab when Richie runs too fast and trips over his own feet, it’s the symbolic soothing pat on the back he receives after he can get all of the losers to laugh at his humor. It’s their love langue no one understands, It’s Eddie’s way of hiding how deep his adoration goes with a job that’s unusual to others.

David’s condescending tone alone tipped Richie into the deep end, into a cave that echoed his deepest flaws and slammed it into the cavity in his chest every time something didn’t go according to plan. Idiot for David did not mean the same things. For David, idiot was shoving aside Richie’s concerns, it was disinterested in all his quirks and his passive attitude. He meant what he said without sarcasm.

A first tear tracks down Richie’s cheek. ‘Rich?’ Eddie inquires startled. His hand previously stroking Richie’s curls slides towards his elbow in a smooth motion.

Richie tries to tell him it’s okay, that he needs a minute to regroup but that he’s fine, but instead of that he sobs, more tears spilling over with no regards to him uneasy Richie is to cry in front of someone.

‘Richie shit I’m sorry. Does it hurt that bad? Do we need to go to a hospital? We’ll go right now.’

‘No, no hospital,’ Richie waves him off with his injured hands. Eddie leads his hand back without response, tracking his face to see if he gives away anything. Richie had forgotten his hand hurted in the first place, so he definitely didn’t require any treatment beyond what he was doing already. His tears are the result of being overwhelmed by his emotions, and his default response to that is to cry.

‘If you don’t want me to do that, that’s okay you know?’

Because his hand is incapacitated, he wipes his nose on the corner of his shirt, watching as Eddie’s wrinkles his nose at that. Still, even with the disgusting move on Richie’s part, Eddie leans in closer, molding Richie so he fits in the fold between Eddie’s neck and shoulder. There, he resumes his path of caressing Richie’s hair, and kissing his temple. Richie fists one of his hands in the back of Eddie’s shirt, pressing them as intimate as he can.

‘Hey sweetheart, it’s okay. What’s wrong?’

Richie sobs harder, not particularly keen on telling Eddie why he’s this upset. It’s a difficult topic to talk to anyone about, Eddie and the losers included. There were days that Richie twisted his mind to convince himself that it was all in his head. That David was the best boyfriend anyone could ever wish for, and that the tirades he had to endure was just the cost of that. He was afraid he added things in his mind that hadn’t actually taken place and he created his own narrative.

Apprehension held Richie back, dreading what Eddie’s response might be. He could exclaim Richie to be a complainer that should have praised himself lucky to get the abuse he got, or he could say that Richie was a sourpuss, turning a fly into an elephant.

‘Shouldn’t we get rid of the smoke first?’, Richie questions to stall.

‘Later’, Eddie soothes with another kiss to his temple. ‘Talk to me. Please Rich.’

‘There was this guy I used to date, David.’

Eddie’s head shoots up in bewilderment, his brow furrowed. ‘You never told me about him.’

‘Yeah well we never talk about your wife either and I thought that would mean we wouldn’t disclose our previous hang ups.’

‘Ex-wife. Remember Rich? She’s my ex-wife. There’s nobody in the world I would rather be with then with you.’

‘Stop it you bastard,’ Richie sniffles pathetically. ‘You know I can’t deny you anything when you sweet talk me.’

‘That’s the plan.’

Eddie thumbs underneath Richie’s eye socket, brushing in a hypnotic rhythm that ankers him to reality. If Richie nuzzles into Eddie’s palm, then no one else but then needs to know.

Talking about something that brings forth a lot of anxiety goes smoother with closed eyes, Richie’s come to find, so he does that before revealing what he should have revealed a long time ago.

‘He was.. not so kind’, he chuckles humorless. ‘He really thrived when he pointed out everything I did wrong, liked yelling too.’

‘Rich?’

‘Wait let me finish. If I don’t say it now I’ll never get the courage to again.’ He opens his eyes only to see Eddie nod in agreement, and his face starting to tang a bit red.

‘Sometimes I couldn’t even walk right without him being all up in my ass about it. At parties he would gladly tell everyone embarrassing things I did, or he would pretend like he did all the work at home while really he was the one that did nothing. And the way he spoke to me.. like I was a child and he was a teacher or something. And he had this way of saying things so I’d know I was a breath away from being yelled at, but so that he could still claim he never once raised his voice at me. I guess I was scared you were going to do the same thing after seeing what a major fuck up I am. . He kept insisting I didn’t do things good enough, but I was really trying my best. I fucking swear Eds. I can’t help that my best isn’t good enough.’

The repetitive motion that Eddie kept up during his long monologue abruptly ends, and Eddie instead balls his hands up into two fist, pulling away from Richie to lean on the counter. He bounces on his heels, unable to stand still any longer as he is now the one to squeeze his eyes shut.

‘Eddie?’ Richie implores, the panic from before quickly flooding through his bloodstream and entering every part of his body.

Eddie opens his eyes, and something on Richie’s face must give away what he’s experiencing, because he’s quick to assure Richie did nothing wrong. ‘No, shit Richie it’s not you sweetheart. I love you, you did nothing, nothing wrong.’

He pecks Richie on the lips twice, very softly and barely noticeable, almost a goad to get Richie to cram their lips together tighter. For a long moment, they don’t move. Their lips stay hovering just out of reach, and one of Eddie’s palms slide down Richie’s chest down to his belly and up again. It’s an effort for Eddie to try and generate as much love towards Richie as he possibly can, before his resolve breaks and he has to let his resentment for David out in some way.

‘I’m going to kill him.’ Eddie turns away from Richie, but his hand remains on Richie’s stomach, a connection so they don’t separate. His chest puffs up, almost like he’s gearing up to go fight David right now. He would if he got the chance.

‘Spagheddie you don’t have to do that for me. I don’t even own his number anymore.’

‘I don’t care Rich,’ Eddie’s voice trembles but is laced with a deadly amount of venom. ‘He should have never done those things to you. If I ever see him I’ll fucking strangle him with my bare hands.’

‘It’s fine Eds, it wasn’t that bad.’ The denial burns in his chest. He wondered for a long time if he could qualify what he went through as abuse, not because he was actively hoping to label himself as an abuse victim, but because he questioned if what happened to him was worth being this upset over. In conclusion, Richie decreed it wasn’t. Eddie's eyes snap up, burning behind a sheen layer of glass.

‘He never hit me like Bev’s husband did to her.’

‘That doesn’t fucking matter. What happened to Bev is terrible, but that doesn’t make what happened to you any less dire. Both of you were victims of abuse, save for a different kind.’

Are they comparable? If they were talking about another person Richie would say yes, that both leave lasting scars, but because he’s the subject of the question, he can’t say for sure. He’s not lenient enough with himself to allow such a statement to be made. Bev can suffer from the consequences of her abuse, but from Richie’s perspective, he should be over it by now.

‘Oh fuck,’ Eddie curses explicitly, ‘and I called you an idiot. Richie I’m so sorry.’

Eddie’s little crease that only appears when he’s discontent about something appears again, and he avoids eye contact with Richie. There’s no need for any of that. Richie hadn’t even taken that big of a notice about the word. He was reassured Eddie would never use it as a true insult, and even if he wasn’t convinced of that, the tender way Eddie reacts towards him otherwise would be enough to convince him.

‘No Eddie. I don’t mind, really. I don’t want things to change between us because I told you this. I like our banter.’

He finally takes his hand from under the lukewarm water stream, and dries it on his pants -the water, come Eddie’s prediction, has eased the aflame skin -. With both hands now free, Richie cuddles up closer to Eddie, using his arms to tug him closer. Eddie is still dressed in his suit from work - and it might deem handsome, but it is not very comfortable - but has not mentioned getting changed once, too enraptured with taking care of Richie.

‘They won’t if you don’t want to, but we’re making a deal. If I do something that hurts you, you need to tell me, so I can apologize and tell you I didn’t mean any of it. Are we clear?’

‘Aye aye captain. Shall we pinky promise on it?’

‘No, I’d rather kiss on it.’

They do, and this time the kiss progresses further than just a simple peck. Eddie cups Richie’s face in between his palms, a soft, sentimental smile ruining it a little. It doesn’t matter, Richie still greedily savors the moment as it comes.

‘All those times that you went on stage and rocked that whole performance I was already infinitely proud, but shit Richie, now that you’ve told me I’m even prouder. He tore you down but you spit in his face and said fuck no, I’m still going to be my own person. I’ll never let him treat you badly again. More importantly, you’ll never let him do it again. You’re so strong sweetheart.’

Richie sniffs, ‘why the hell are you still being so sappy? I told you everything already, there’s no need to spawn me further.’ He giggles, and Eddie can’t help but chuckle at the sight too, then he turns serious again.

‘Okay, now let me take care of you. I’m going to clean up, hush I am and you’re not going to lift a single finger, and then we’ll order in, watch tv from the bed and cuddle. That sounds good? We can talk about the heavy things in the morning.’ Richie has been through enough for one day.

‘That sounds perfect Eds.’

They let go of each other, but not before Eddie sneaks in a kiss on his forehead, cheek and jaw.

While dating David, Richie never used the word love. He knew, with manipulated affection and all, that he did not love David. Love isn’t supposed to change us, it’s supposed to accept us, makes us laugh and cry at appropriate times, and cocoon us in her warmth. Love doesn’t change us, but it adds something more to the previous person we were yesterday. Eddie adds something more to Richie every single day, be it by teaching him or standing by his side when he messes up. Richie loves Eddie, and he gets loved back equally as fierce.

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG 15 Post-Games Brains and Brawn Part 4

This is a day or two after part 3! Tagging: @sparkles-and-hens, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @maple-writes (also thanks for Skyler!), @pen-of-roses, @thoughts-of-nora, and @ratracechronicler!

Churi was looming over me as Triel’s crew was being tortured behind me. I jumped up, trying to get around him, but he just pushed me back down and grabbed my hair. He pulled me up by my hair and laughed. “You think you could escape again? You fool girl. You’re my property. I won’t ever let you go, and anyone who tries to protect you will be destroyed.”

I scratched at him, tried to loosen his grip, but he just kept laughing and laughing…

I woke up with a gasp and sat up. Shit. It had just been a nightmare, but I still sat there, hunched over, shaking. Churi would never leave me alone. I would never be free of him. Sobs escaped my lips, and I curled up on myself tighter. Was I just endangering everyone more by being here? I was a liability. I couldn’t even fight to defend anyone. I was useless.

The door cracked open, and I grabbed my knife that was under my pillow. Until I noticed that it was just Skyler. But why did he open the door? Was there trouble? I lowered my knife and quickly wiped my eyes to get rid of any traces of tears. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

He stared at me. “Uh, you tell me.”

Oh shit. He had heard me. I frowned. “What? I’m fine.”

“You think I’m an idiot?” Double shit.

Time to distract. I set my jaw. “What are you doing up anyway?”

He leaned against the doorframe. “I…I couldn’t sleep.” Sounded like he had bad dreams too.

I nodded. “Me neither…But just because I had too much caffeine. Do you want to walk it out?” I needed to get my mind off the nightmare anyway.

He nodded back. “I know somewhere nice.”

Oh boy! I jumped up. This would be awesome! A nice distraction.

He led me out of the building and down a few blocks to an actual airship! I had been on Triel’s, but seeing another one would be awesome! I smiled and just stared at it.

“This is ours.” He opened the door and hopped in, turning around to help me get in. Which was probably good, since I wouldn’t be able to do that on my own with my leg injuries.

Once we were inside, I grinned and ran my hands along the walls. “It’s beautiful.”

“Thanks.” He closed the door behind me. “Volt says she stole it years ago.”

“That’s awesome!” Wait. I paused and frowned a little. “Wait, how do you steal an airship? Isn’t it kind of hard to hide it well?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. She and Rick won’t talk about it very much.” He led the way into the cockpit where he sat down and checked some of the gauges. “Paint? I never asked.”

Paint was probably correct. I watched him for a little bit and cocked my head. I didn’t know anything about airships. “What are you checking for?”

“There was something wrong with the ventilation system a while ago, but it seems to be holding up now.” He got up and stretched. “I can show you around.”

Awesome! I grinned. “Thanks! I love airships! I just don’t know much about them, so I might ask dumb questions.”

He smiled. “It’s not that big so it won’t take long.” He brought me to a room that had a table and some couches. It looked so cozy! “This is the living room, and there’s a little kitchen off over that way.” He pointed to a doorway off to the side.

Damn. I hadn’t realized it, but I was hungry. “Ooh! Is there popcorn? I tried it earlier, and it’s now my favorite food.”

“Maybe?” He ducked into the kitchen and came back with a bag of the awesome stuff, and he handed it to me. “Don’t know how long it’s been here.”

“Holy shit,” I whispered. I stuffed some in my mouth and smiled. It was sweet! I hadn’t eaten sweet popcorn before. I offered some to him. He had to try it.

He took some, but he made a face after he ate it. How could he do that about such an awesome food? “This must have been Rick’s. He likes sweet things more than I do.” Oh. Understandable. He waved me on, and we kept walking.

We walked through a narrow hallway with doors on either side. Skyler pointed out the rooms as we walked. “This is Volt’s room, and this is Rick’s, and this one is storage…” He paused in front of a room at the end of the hallway. “And this one’s mine.” He opened the door to a small, cozy room. “I think it used to be more storage or some kind of prep area since the hatch to the cargo hold and engine rooms are in the corner here.” He nodded at a hatch in the floor in the far corner.

The engines! That was so cool! I grinned. “This is awesome! It’s so small and safe.” I walked over to inspect the hatch. “I’ve never seen the engines of an airship before. Shine doesn’t let me down there.” I glanced over at him, trying to plead with my eyes.

It must have worked. “Just don’t fuck with anything.” He opened up the hatch and led the way down the ladder. We passed through a mostly empty cargo hold before we made it into a room with tons of machines.

I grinned. “This is awesome!” I yelled the last word to hear it reverberate against the machines. “I can’t believe this is all it needs to fly! I’d never want to come down.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment. “Have you uh, ever flown in one?”

“A little in Triel’s, but I’ve only been with her for a month. I hadn’t thought it would last that long with how much the Shades were hunting me. But Triel had covered her tracks well.” I paused as I rubbed at the scars from my time with the Shades. Why was I even saying this? But I still continued. “I didn’t think I’d ever escape them again this last time.”

“We can take a short flight, if you want. It’s probably best to get it running since it’s been a while.”

I grinned, pushing the other thoughts away. “That would be amazing! I love flying! Thanks!”

He led me back to the cockpit and pointed at another seat, while he sat in the seat he had been in before. “Don’t touch anything.” I sat down as he mumbled something to himself while he started up the airship. I just stared as the airship lifted up, high above the Capitol. It was amazing! The Capitol just looked like a group of glittering lights in the darkness.

He glanced over at me. “What do you think?”

I couldn’t stop staring at the Capitol. “It’s beautiful. I never thought the Capitol could look beautiful. But it does from above.”

“It’s nicer from here.” The airship started to gently move forward, and I grinned wider. This was just so amazing! I couldn’t stop staring at the world below.

At least until he spoke again. “What happened with the shades?”

Shit. I froze for a bit before I smiled over at him. “What do you mean? I’m not scared of shade.”

He frowned, his eyes flitting to where my scars were. Double shit. “You know what I meant.”

Well, I had to explain now. I opened my mouth to do so a few times, but I couldn’t find my voice for a bit. “They—they took me when I was a child and gave me this stupid magic. And then tortured me when I ‘had the gall’ to fight back against their control. I only just escaped a few months ago. And then I had to go back as a victor, and they took me back.” My voice was getting faster and faster as I spoke. “And I fucked everything up because if I could have just not let the crew know what was going on, they would have forgotten about me and helped rescue everyone else instead.” I stopped myself and tensed. I had said way the hell too much. He hadn’t asked me for my life story. “I’m sorry. You don’t really care.” I looked away from him, back out at the Capitol.

It took him a bit to say anything. “I…I do. Care, I mean,” he mumbled. “That’s…A lot.”

I swallowed hard. Why the hell would he care? “Well…thanks for caring. And…I had a nightmare about them. That’s why I was up. Not because of caffeine.”

He nodded out of the corner of my eye, pausing again before he spoke. “Yeah. Me too.”

Sometimes, it felt good to talk about things. And I could not confirm nor deny if that was the case for me this time. But I wanted to offer the opportunity to him. I glanced over at him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He stiffened and hesitated, and when he spoke, it was even quieter than before. “My mother handed me over to Indigo one day and I thought she was just taking me for a few days but then she told me what was going on and her people came and took me and kept me in a little room and I didn’t know what was going to happen.” He took a long, shaky breath. Shit. I couldn’t imagine that. “I don’t remember a lot. I figured out they put something in my food to keep me easier to handle but they were still rough, and mean and scary.”

What could I say to that? Comfort wouldn’t be any help. And I sucked at comfort anyway. I sucked in a breath. “I couldn’t imagine that,” I whispered. Churi had always been honest about what he was going to do. That was the one thing I could say about him that was positive in a twisted way. “I really will punch her in the face if I see her again.”

“Most of the time they would talk about me but not really to me like I was more of a thing, or maybe a pet.” He glanced at me. “They didn’t cut me up like you though so I don’t know. There’s that.”

Comparing pain? Nah. I wasn’t going to let that happen. “At least they had always been pretty honest in what they were going to do to me. So, there’s that.” I stared at the Capitol and crossed my arms. It didn’t look so pretty anymore. “But I understand being treated as not human. Churi would always call me his property.”

He cringed at my last sentence. “I think the only reason they didn’t hurt more than they did was so they didn’t leave marks.” He started mumbling. “A few of them would say things like I’d be worth a lot more than others because I was pretty, handsome when I grew up.”

That reminded me of Meras picking out one kid who had grown up to be pretty by her standards. The Shades had just been calling him monster and boy before that, but she chose to name him Kallias only after he was pretty to her. I curled my lips in a snarl. “Sounds like Meras. Pieces of shit.”

He nodded as he had the airship turn gently. “Yeah, they were.”

We stayed silent, both staring out at the Capitol. But when I looked over at Skyler, he looked so upset. Was there a way to distract him from the bad thoughts? I ate some popcorn, trying to think, but then I glanced down at the popcorn and smiled a little. It was a good projectile. I aimed a piece at his head and threw it, hitting right on his forehead.

He looked over at me with a frown, and I shrugged. “I just thought you should have some more popcorn.” He just kept staring at me, but then he held out a hand for some popcorn.

I gave him some. But then I hit him again in the face with another popcorn.

He grinned mischievously back at me and yanked the controls, so that the airship took a sharp turn instead. I yelped and spilled some of the popcorn.

He laughed a little. “Don’t tell Volt I did that.”

I laughed back as I tried to clean up the popcorn. “I won’t. I deserved it anyway.”

He smiled as he leveled the airship again. “Actually, maybe don’t tell her we did this at all. I’m not really supposed to fly without her or Rick on board.”

I grinned back. “But you have me. Surely, I’m a responsible adult. Anyway, I think you’re doing awesome.”

He snorted. “Somehow I don’t think you qualify.”

I clutched my chest, as if he had hurt me. “Rude.” I paused and turned back to the Capitol. It was still pretty, just not as much as it had been. “But thanks. This is amazing.”

“Thanks for coming with me.” The hovercraft started slowing down as it got back to the place where it was. “And listening.”

“Same to you.” I held out a fist for him to fistbump. “Friends?”

He looked over at me with surprise, but then he smiled and fistbumped. “Yeah. Now be quiet while I land this thing.”

We got back down safely, and we walked back without saying anything. Sometimes, silence was fine without having to fill it.

[valkyrieofsmut]

Captive Love   25

UF!Sans x Reader (or Frisk if you wanna)

Summary: Papyrus yells at Sans to get his shit together, but he's a mess... AKA Sans gets drunk... and remembers some things from the past... that he'd really rather not..

A/N: There is some... possibly triggering events... experiments and tiny skele abuse... little Papyrus is too cute and sweet... Also mentioned possible death. It, as usual, is separated with the ~~~ and should be (at least mostly) safe again at the next set, safe summary in the end..

Masterlist      Series Masterlist

Story

Blackout.

Sans rolled over in his bed, feeling like the scars on his chest were going to break through and destroy his soul. 

The sun blared outside, shining into his sockets. 

"fuck off," he growled, rolling back over. 

Papyrus pounded on the door, making the sounds reverberate through his skull. He couldn't tell if it was louder than normal, or it just sounded like it to his throbbing skull. 

"GET YOUR STUPID, LAZY ASS UP, SANS!! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE!! I KNOW YOU WENT OUT DRINKING AGAIN LAST NIGHT, LIKE THE FUCKING MORON THAT YOU ARE!! YOU'D BETTER BE DOWNSTAIRS IN FIVE MINUTES, OR I'M COMING BACK UP HERE FOR YOU!! YOUR STUPIDITY IS NO EXCUSE TO BE A LAZY DRUNK MORON!!"

 . 

The day was hell- actually, life was hell at the moment… 

His brother yelled at him about how stupid he'd been every chance he got- like he didn't already know that he'd royally fucked up. 

Every place he went reminded him of something he'd shown, or wanted to show (Y/n), her excitement at all the different things she'd never seen before had warmed his soul every time. 

Each time someone asked where his pet was made his soul thrum and ache to be close to her. ...and punch the person in the face… She was so much more than the pet they'd had to pretend she was. 

Every time he got Grillby's, he remembered her face of delight as she ate it for the first time. 

Every bite of his brother's food reminded him that she'd been there and helped him get better at cooking. 

Every time he rolled over in bed and smelled her scent caught on the pillow, or the sheets… 

And then there was the time he'd gotten back from drinking, and had been stumbling around drunk in his room, kicking random stuff on the floor, only to discover a pair of her underwear that he'd probably tossed in the corner in his haste to get to her. 

That had made him collapse in a heap of self hatred and regret. 

.

Sans sat at the table, stabbing his fork at his dinner aimlessly. 

“I MADE YOU A WONDERFUL, DELICIOUS, HOME COOKED MEAL! DON’T FIDGET WITH IT AND ACT LIKE IT’S THE TRASH YOU FILL YOURSELF WITH AT THAT GREASE TRAP,” Papyrus snapped at him. 

“sorry, boss…” 

Papyrus clenched his jaw, staring at his own fork pushing around a bite longer than necessary. 

“I WARNED YOU. I TOLD YOU NOT TO FUCK IT UP. BUT YOU HAD TO GO AND DO THE STUPIDEST THING POSSIBLE TO FUCK IT UP.” 

Sans didn’t say anything. 

“YOU DID IT TO YOURSELF.” 

“i fuckin’ know, boss!” Sans yelled, scooting his chair back from the table. “i know i’m a fuck up! it’s pretty fuckin’ obvious that i always manage ta fuck everythin’ up!” 

Papyrus sniffed haughtily. “I’M GLAD THAT YOU KNOW. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT?” 

“i can’t do anythin’ about it! i fucked up, an’ she hates me! i took ‘er back ta th' edge a th' boundary, an’ there’s no way i can ever find ‘er, now!” Sans glared at his plate of food. 'sides, she wouldn't care- not that i'm sorry for being an asshole, not that i've been tryin' ta be a better monster, an' made great progress, too! maybe only a lil before i met 'er, but her bein' here made it so much easier to be better… 

Papyrus scowled at his brother. “THERE’S ALWAYS A WAY-” 

Sans cut him off by standing up, his chair making a loud noise as it almost fell over, and started towards the door as he muttered, “i’m goin’ ta grillby’s…” 

After grabbing his coat and slamming the door after him, Sans shortcutted to the bar, intent on getting wasted. 

.

A few drinks in with a good buzz, Sans started looking around. 

He wasn’t quite drunk enough to not remember, but it was at least a bit hazy. 

“Heya, Sansy!” 

He looked over to the bar stool next to him, seeing the cream colored bunny next to him, ordering a drink. He followed her to her regular booth, and they began matching shots, seeing who could get the drunkest first. 

. 

Sans opened his eye sockets, his fuzzy eyelights looking around the bar, seeing some drunk monsters starting to be a bit more friendly with each other. 

His skull fell to the side as he shifted, realizing that he’d missed a bit of what had happened. He straightened up in the booth seat and looked down at his drink again. 

Maybe he should try to find someone… 

Even if it was a one night stand, it would be someone to try to get rid of his memory of- no… thinking her name would only start the hurt again… make his soul burn with the knowledge that he was to blame for fucking his life up beyond repair. 

But, finding someone might be a good idea; he needed to at least stop jerking off excessively to her panties, or reading those stupid, mushy, trash books he hid on his shelf while imagining that she was the leading lady- and he was lucky enough to be the bastard who’d seen the error in his ways and was given a second chance… 

… 

Sans tossed back his drink and took the half empty glass from the passed out bunny across from him, downing it as well. 

He was finally kicked out of the bar, Grillby chasing everyone out as he closed. 

Sans took a shortcut home, but ended up in the field near the echo flowers he had planted to remind him of Waterfall, where he used to look at the Underground “skys” and pretend the crystals were stars. 

He yelled loudly for a minute, then tried again, this time making it within a short distance of the house. 

He swayed dangerously, but he made it in through the door, getting to the foot of the stairs and seeing the door to the hidden room open. He went to it, hand stopping short only due to him passing out across the floor with a thud. 

His vision had gone dark. 

Darker... 

…yet darker… 

…and darker, still… 

… 

… 

… 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sans felt his soul floating above his body, unable to move as Gaster held him there with his weird powers. 

“Just hold still, you little shit…” 

Sans could handle it… as long as he left Papyrus alone, he could handle it… 

“P-PAPA…” 

“What is it? What are you doing in my lab? Why are you here?” Gaster demanded roughly in irritation. 

Sans fought as hard as he could to shift his eyelights to see his little brother. He needed to stay away! Sans wished that he could talk, yell at Paps to run, to go hide, to never come there, ever again- but he could hardly shift his eyelights. 

“WH-WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO SANS?” 

run, bro, run! Sans begged mentally. 

“Well, you see, you weak little fool, monsters are stuck underground. We’re not here because we want to be. Your useless brother here, is going to help us escape,” Gaster told him. 

“THAT’S AMAZING, SANS!” Papyrus shouted in proud joy. 

Sans tried to will his brother to leave, to save himself from the sadistic monster towering over him. 

Papyrus’s jaw hit the hard floor as Gaster smacked the back of his skull so hard he fell forward. 

“Don’t be stupid, you worthless little runt,” Gaster snapped as he tore the ragged stuffed animal from his grasp. “He’s only a part of the experiment, he’s not doing anything worthwhile.” He held up the prized toy and ripped it’s limb off. “Just like this garbage is only making you weaker.” 

“NOOO!” Papyrus cried, a heart wrenching sob that made Sans’ soul hurt. 

Gaster glared at the small skeleton on the floor. “You have no need for this trash,” he sneered. “It’s as useless as you are.” He tore at the thing until it was completely in pieces and destroyed. 

Sans wanted to punch Gaster in his stupid cracked face. 

Gaster plucked Papyrus from the floor and turned to hold him where Sans could see. “Look at how weak you’ve made him,” he gloated. “If you didn’t coddle him and try to protect him from the real world, he’d be stronger.” 

Sans could feel his magic gathering in his bones, pushing and fighting against Gaster’s hold on him. 

Gaster looked Papyrus in the socket. “You should thank your brother for this- for making you as weak as you are.” 

A shot of fear showed on Papyrus’ face before the first hit came. 

Red, hot, magical tears built in Sans’ sockets as he fought to get free, to help his brother, but he was only able to sort of flop around on the table. 

Papyrus’ cries and tears were background noise for Gaster’s cries and accusations, telling Sans that he could thank himself for his brother not being able to defend himself, telling Papyrus to thank Sans for making him so weak. His gleeful cackling mixed with the noise of the attack. 

One of the machines in the room kicked into another level, sounding like it was reversing the flow it had been using. 

“sssstttppppp…” 

“Haven’t I taught you boys anything? Emotions are weakness.” 

“sssttoppp…” 

“Weakness is unacceptable- weakness will get you dusted.” 

“sstoopp…” 

“I thought I had taught you both better- but maybe you’re just slow learners!” The thought was accompanied with a manic and near demonic grin. “Maybe you just don’t learn- maybe you need to be taught over and over and over-” 

“stop,” Sans choked out. 

Gaster was too focused on what he was doing to notice at first, but when it seemed like a circuit or fuse had blown, he paused his movements. 

Sans started shaking, his body twitching every which way as he fought, fought to be able to save Papyrus. 

He felt a power just beyond his phalanges, he could almost reach it- 

The tears in his sockets grew, starting to stream down his skull, as he stretched himself to touch it- 

The power in the lab started to flicker, and Sans felt like his soul was being ripped into tiny pieces with a cheese grater, digging into it and shredding the super sensitive entirety of his being. 

“What are you doing, you stupid fucking brat,” Gaster demanded, glaring watchfully at him, ignoring his screams of pain.

Sans couldn’t hear him, though- he couldn’t even hear the screams leaving his own mouth, he was only consumed with protecting his brother, stopping Gaster from hurting him. 

A loud crack echoed in the room, followed by the power cutting off and slowly starting back up. 

Sans felt weightless, like he had no restraints. 

He threw himself from the bed, but felt that he didn’t even touch the floor. He was held by a gathering of power- the same power that he’d tapped into. 

The power that was… 

Gaster sneered as Sans stood before him, attempting to adjust his magical hold, but it didn’t affect him. 

Sans clenched his fists and gathered the power there, ready to stop the attack on his brother, a shimmer moving around his fists. 

Gaster cackled at him and tossed Papyrus to the floor. “So, you’ve finally done what you were meant to do this whole time.” The tall monster reached for Sans, but his magic didn’t affect him. He made a displeased face at Sans before flourishing his hands, the gems in the centers of his cutout palms gleaming as he grabbed something in the air and pulled, lines attaching the two shimmering to visible for a moment. 

Gaster grinned dangerously in accomplishment and jerked the lines, making Sans stumble forward. 

“And to think; all it took to motivate you was a little smacking around of your brother… Maybe I’ll make you…” Gaster manipulated his hands in strange ways, and Sans could feel himself being tugged around by his own magic. “Yes, I could make you the one that hurt him instead… but, I think that I’ve taught him enough about the dangers of being weak… now I think I’ll teach you the dangers of caring for others-” Gaster twisted his hand and made Sans pick Papyrus up, holding him even with his eyelights. “How it can only hurt both parties in the end.” 

“i don’t wanna, pap, i swear,” Sans begged him to understand as he felt his hand being drawn back. “i swear it’s not me, paps- ya know i’d never do anythin’ like this ta ya…” 

“But it is you, Sans, look at your hand, it’s the one that’s about to hurt the one you love,” Gaster sneered from behind them. 

“‘s not- ‘s not, paps- y’re my lil bro, i love ya-” 

He was going to kill him- 

Sans was going to kill Gaster for making him do this. 

“The best part, is that the more monsters I link together, the more power I’ll have… I’ll be able to break down the barrier all on my own- as soon as I link enough souls together,” Gaster crowed in victory. 

Sans looked down to his ribcage where his soul sat, seeing a string connecting it to Gaster’s soul, a strange bond forming between his soul and the holes in his palms, the gems floating in the middles, that he’d never seen before- in fact- he didn’t think he’d ever seen this glow before on Gaster. 

Sans focused hard, letting go of Papyrus and took a hold of the line and tugged, pulling Gaster instead, turning the larger monster to him and making him stumble to be the right height, even for him to pull all the energy he could into his hands, summoning a large bone and swinging hard, hitting Gaster in the skull, seeing the flash of fear and realization just before it connected. 

Gaster fell to the ground, limp, and Sans dropped the bone, letting it disappear as he stared in shock. 

Did… Did he just kill Gaster? 

He knew he thought about it a lot… 

He knew that he wanted to do it to stop him from hurting his brother- wanted to punish him for hurting his brother… 

But… why wasn’t he turning to dust…? Why was there… blackness leaking from him?

~~~~~~~~~~

Sans turned to Papyrus when he felt a bit more certain that Gaster wasn't going to get up and attack again. 

He felt his soul twist in knots at the expression of pain and fear on his small brother's face, sure that it was partially due to the crack from his maxilla, between two sharp teeth, up and heading to his cheek bone. But the other part would have to come from… 

"b-bro-" Sans' voice caught, his hand freezing in mid motion, his phalanges starting to curl closed into a fist. “i… i’m sorry, bro,” he murmured. 

Papyrus threw himself into Sans’ arms, small, almost silent sobs leaving his small frame. 

Sans felt his soul twist again. 

“i- it’s a’right, paps- i- h-he… he’ll never hurt ya again. never…” He murmured against his brother’s skull. “i promise…”

Papyrus held tighter to him, trying to hide his silent sobs better. 

“i- imma help ya become th’ toughest monster out there. ain’t nobody gonna mess wit ya…” Sans stroked over his brother’s skull, not quite sure what else to do to comfort him. “ya- ya are th’ great an’ terrible papyrus, after all…”

Papyrus mustered up the strength to give a soft, “Nyeh Heh Heh…” 

Sans held his small form closer to his chest, curling around him. "it's ok, paps… everythin' is gonna be ok…" 

He just had to get rid of Gaster's body… 

After a moment, an idea came to him, and, thinking it through while he held and comforted Papyrus, it seemed to hold up… 

He'd hated all these years of going to the lab with Gaster, but… looks like they were finally going to be good for something. 

He didn't think anyone else knew about the void between realms that Gaster had accidentally tapped into while trying to find a way out of the Underground. 

"S-Sans…" For once, the small skeleton's voice matched his size. 

"yeah, paps?" Sans asked quietly. 

"Are… Are You Going To Be My Dad, Now…?" 

Sans felt like he was the one who'd been smacked in the back of the skull with a bone attack. 

"i- n-no, paps- i'm still yer brother, i- i ain't fit ta- i ain't old 'nough ta be a dad-” he corrected, trying to put it in a way that Papyrus would understand, “but… imma take care a ya like one, 'k? ya don't have ta be scared, imma take care a ya… i'll keep ya safe…" 

Papyrus tightened his hold on Sans. "I'm- I'm Going To Keep You Safe, Too," he murmured. 

"that's 'cause y're gonna be th' biggest, strongest monster out there. no one'll be able ta beat ya, 'cause y're th' best…" 

Sans held his brother tight, feeling the newly awakened power burning through his bones as the two held each other, swearing that they'd keep each other safe and alive, no matter what it took. 

A/N: Safe summary: Gaster is experimenting in connecting souls together, using his powers to hold Sans down, when little Papyrus comes down with his precious stuffed animal to see what they're doing. Gaster hits Papyrus as punishment for being "weak". Sans completes the connection of his soul to Gaster's to break his paralyzing hold on him and protect Papyrus. At first it works, but then Gaster uses two crystals type things (that Sans has never ben able to see before and isn't sure what they are) in the holes of his hands to focus his power and control Sans, making him hit Papyrus, as punishment for caring for and loving him. Sans tells him the whole time that it's not him. Sans regains control and stops himself, using gravity magic to bring him down to level, and then manifests a bone attack and hits him, very hard, in the head. Sans wonders if he's killed Gaster, and holds Papyrus close while trying o figure out how to hide Gaster's body. Sweet moments ensue in the mostly safe part.

[stardustryewriting]

Friends with Benefits never work (2)

Part 1: here

Also on Ao3:  here

Please, we need to talk

Sanji had sent that message exactly ten minutes after Zoro had stormed out of his apartment. That was a month ago by now. After Zoro left the building with Sanji’s apartment in it, he ran straight home, locked himself into his apartment and didn’t leave it for two days. He even called in sick to work, sent Luffy to voicemail when he called and ignored Nami, when she had furiously banged on his door, demanding answers.

On the third day, he decided he can’t hide from everything forever, so he went to work, called back Luffy to apologize for being absent and sent one last text to Sanji, before blocking him.

There is nothing to talk about.

Nami had been on his doorstep fifteens minutes after the text was marked as read and had screamed more profanities than Zoro had ever heard in his entire life before. He blocked her out after the first ten minutes of screaming, let her get it out of her system and then told her he was very sorry she felt about it like that, before shutting the door in her face. That didn’t stop Nami though. Instead she just called him to complain about that, too. And then threatened him, that she would actually break his door down, if he had the nerve to block her, too. Zoro didn’t think Nami possessed the physical capabilities for that, but he wasn’t willing to test it.

So, he was missing the big group gatherings in order to avoid Sanji. He did have Luffy, Usopp and even Franky over for the occasional game night, Nami stood at his door trying to get answers out of him once a week and even Robin and Chopper came over once. Robin had invited herself to tea, but contrary to Zoro’s expectation, she hasn’t lost a word about him and Sanji, so he just let her. All in all, the only thing he hasn’t really seen in a while was the bar. And Sanji’s face.

It was manageable. He could live his life like that.

It surely was better than having Sanji, without really having Sanji, at least. The clear cut was good for him and Sanji would be able to move on. It would be easier for Sanji than it was for Zoro, because Sanji didn’t have nasty feelings to get rid of first.

It hurt to think about it like that.

*

„You know what I’m missing?“, Luffy asked, both hands on his controller, not looking away from the TV for a second. How he had the capacity to concentrate on their current match and think about something else entirely would always be a mystery to Zoro. And the cause of a headache for Usopp.

„Not now, we’re this close to winning“, Usopp answered pressed, as if he was in actual physical strain. Maybe he was, their opponents were decent enough. Nothing the four of them couldn’t manage, but better than the last ones they had, for sure. Zoro was surely enjoying the challenge and Luffy was too, if his giggles were anything to go by.

They did win, in the end but by a scratch, because Luffy started arguing with Usopp, that he could play a game and think about something else, just fine. Usopp never argued against that, just said that he himself couldn’t play and talk at once. Somehow Luffy thought this was funny, too.

„What are you missing?“, Franky asked, to get the two out of their argument and Zoro went to the fridge to get himself a new beer.

„Sanji’s food. Playing and eating Sanji’s food were always the best evenings“, Luffy proclaimed and Zoro almost lost his grip on his bottle. Good thing he was still in the kitchen or the others would have seen that.

„Are you stupid? You can just say this near Zoro“, Usopp whisper-yelled, probably hoping Zoro wouldn’t hear him. Too bad the walls in his apartment were paper-thin. So, Usopp knew. Then it was safe to assume that Franky and Brook knew, too. Damn Nami.

„Oh right“, Luffy spoke, sounding way more panicled than the situation called for, „I forgot. You think he heard us?“ There was his way out of this. If he just came back, pretending nothing had happened, he could avoid this entire uncomfortable situation. So, as a distraction he grabbed his phone and opened the Delivery app, before walking back into his living room.

„Hey guys, I’m a bit hungry, you wanna order something?“

As expected Luffy took it without a second thought. Usopp looked at him slightly skeptical before reluctantly agreeing and only Franky seemed to be really suspicious, but he didn’t say anything either. So they ordered their usual, way too big for four people order and Luffy basically inhaled half of the food himself. Usopp and Franky ate more like real people did, Zoro’s beer stash took a big hit and no one thought about mentioning Sanji again.

Only when they went to go home, did Franky stay behind to tell Zoro that it is okay, if he didn’t want to talk about it yet, but Franky knew for a fact, that his walls were thin enough to hear everything. Zoro deliberately did not invite Franky to the next game night.

Franky didn’t seem too mad about it.

*

„Is it Thursday already?“, Zoro asked, when he opened his apartment door to go to work and was instead greeted by Nami standing in front of it. Something which has become his normal routine on Thursdays in the past two months. Zoro could have sworn it was Tuesday though.

„It isn’t!“, Nami informed him, still sounding less than amused. How she managed to uphold her anger for so long was a mystery to Zoro. „Last Thursday you went to work earlier than usual. To avoid complications like that again, I’m visiting you at random times from now on.“ Which meant he couldn’t even prepare himself for Nami’s rants anymore. Just great!

„Don’t you have better things to do?“, Zoro questioned, because he could hardly believe that this thing that happened two months ago was important enough for Nami to change up her entire routine.

„I would yell at Sanji, if he was the one that made a mistake. But unfortunately you’re the only one to blame here. So I’m blaming you, as I should!“

And Zoro was barely withstanding the temptation to argue, that first of all, falling in love with Sanji wasn’t a mistake he made voluntarily and second of all, it was in the rules that anyone could end the relationship without having to give a reason. But arguing with Nami had never ended well for him. And according to past experiences it went worse the more aggravated she was. And Nami was very aggravated right now.

„You mean there is something you haven’t said already in the past two months?“, Zoro asked instead, making his way past Nami to get on his way to work. Nami however, wasn’t even irritated by that and just fell into step next to him. And pulled him into the right direction for his bus stop, muttering about how useless Zoro’s was with directions.

„There are a lot of things I haven’t said“, she insisted and Zoro did the usual thing of blocking her out, when it became apparent that she going into yet another rant. Hearing Nami blame him for basically everything that ever went wrong was always his favorite start into the day. How Vivi managed to handle Nami all the time was beyond Zoro. (It really wasn’t, it was the same way he handled all of Sanji’s shit. Because they were in love.)

„Zoro!“, Nami screamed next to him and alerted the entire bus stop to their conversation. Luckily enough at this time in the morning, there were only five people there. Those five people however were going to get to show of their lives, if Nami’s annoyed expression was anything to go off. Zoro really hated his life, sometimes.

„What, witch?“, he inquired, trying to keep his voice down. Too bad, Nami didn’t care about their audience.

„You weren’t listening to a word I just said, were you?“

„I tend not to listen, when you go into rants.“ That was the single worst thing he could have possibly said. He realized that too late. He should learn how to think, before he opened his mouth.

„You wanna tell me, that I tried to fix your relationship with Sanji for months and you don’t even listen to me! You’re the worst“, Nami screeched, jabbing her finger into Zoro’s chest accusingly, looking like she was thinking about just ending him there and then.

„There is no relationship to fix!“ He got mad now, too. Because Nami had the audacity to imply that she was doing something for Zoro, when all she did was annoying and harassing him. She might have his best interests at heart, but she had to know she was going too far.

„There could be if you weren’t so damn - you!“ Using ‚you‘ as an insult was something only Nami could do this effectively. She always had a very special way of pissing Zoro off and right now she was doing everything in her might to get it done.  

„Goddammit Nami, get it trough your head. I don’t want a relationship. I want consistently good sex, some good conversation and someone to take the edge of life.“

„You just described a relationship, dumbass!“  And she had the nerve to look triumphantly like this single thing had won her the entire argument. It hadn’t, Zoro was willing to continue. Unfortunately his bus chose that exact moment to arrive, so instead of going all out, he had to be happy with just throwing another I do not want a relationship at her.

„Yes, you do“, Nami sang and he would have loved to answer her, but the doors fell shut, giving Nami the last word. He already hated that day.

*

When he got back home, he had way too many texts from Nami, all reading as some variation of Call Sanji. He ignored them all, opened himself a beer from his fridge instead and turned on the TV. Mostly for background noise, he hadn’t properly watched TV in years. But he couldn’t have the silence right now, because it got him thinking and thinking always eventually led to Sanji. Thinking about Sanji was bad.

Because Sanji was way too great, really. And Zoro was a good-for-nothing.

Sanji was great. Getting trough what he got through in his childhood and making it out okay wasn’t easy. Not only did he make it out okay, he somehow saw all the worst things the world could throw at a child and instead of turning resentful, bitter or hateful, he became kind. He was always first to help people, he fed even strangers when they needed it and he did it with a smile.

And that was one kind of a smile. It lit up his whole face, without splitting it in two like Luffy’s tended to. It made Sanji really look like the sun. Sometimes, Zoro thought, he would be blinded if he looked for too long but at the same time he couldn’t seem to look away. Sanji was something to behold.

Zoro’s smiles were never that bright, he always looked like he smirked. Arrogant, someone even described it as cold once. Nothing to behold, nothing that would be hard to turn away from. Just same old Zoro. Nothing special.

Sanji also always managed to make himself useful, wherever he went. He brought food, or offered to cook, he helped to plan and execute events, kept an eye on everything going smoothly and then stayed afterwards to help clean up. He made the entire wedding cake for Robin’s wedding from scratch even refused to have her buy any ingredients. Zoro just showed up. Robin had actually seemed surprised that he wasn’t black-out drunk by nightfall.

Sanji was always so meticulous about his work tools, his knives and pots and whatnots. (Zoro had said something vaguely bad about it once, and Sanji had never talked about it to him again.) He loved his job, did it with a passion, he had ambitions. Zoro loved sword-fighting too and he would one day defeat the current champion, but it just wasn’t the same. Sanji wanted to feed people, Zoro wanted to be the very best swordsman. It was hard to compare those two.

Also Sanji always took such good care of himself. Zoro knew Sanji smelt like ocean salt and smoke, a very unique combination that was entirely Sanji’s own. When he came fresh out of the shower, the smell of lemons lingered in his hair. It made Zoro go wild. There were no marks on his body - not even the stupid little scars everyone had - his skin was like porcelain despite his childhood. Zoro knew it was soft to the touch, with many firm, defined muscles despite Sanji’s lean figure. By far the best thing were Sanji’s hands tho. They were soft like the rest of his body and if Zoro concentrated he could still feel them ghosting over his body, mapping it out carefully. God he had loved Sanji’s gentle touch.

In comparison, everything about Zoro was rough. He had more scars than he bothered to keep count of, both because he was constantly around swords and because he had been an especially stupid child. His skin wasn’t soft, he always had some bumps or bruises from training. His muscles were defined too, but they were big, making Zoro’s entire frame big. He was once described as intimidating. (That same person had described Sanji as friendly and approachable.)  His hands definitely weren’t soft. They were rough, with many callouses, that came from holding swords regularly since he’d been ten. He even smelled like sweat, most of the time.  

He could see why someone - why Sanji - saw him as a good lay and nothing else.

*

Saturday morning, way too early on his free day, someone rang his doorbell. Very consistently. Probably Nami, Zoro thought and was still trying to get his sleepy brain to remember how to put the damn thing out, when said person started knocking on his door in addition to ringing the bell. So, no more sleep for him then.

He opened the door forcefully, fully prepared to give Nami a real piece of his mind for harassing him this early on a Saturday. He wished he would’ve never left the bed, when he saw Sanji, instead on Nami. Even though Sanji seemed about as angry as Nami usually was, not that that was of any help for Zoro.

„You’re an Asshole“, Sanji snapped at him, storming by him, to let himself into Zoro’s apartment. Zoro looked after him, helpless to do much else.

„You are the absolute worst!“, Sanji roared again, standing in the middle of Zoro’s living room. Zoro slowly closed his door and made his way towards Sanji.

„You want something to drink?“, he asked instead of reacting to Sanji’s accusations. Big mistake.

„The audacity! You avoid me for months and you don’t think you owe me an explanation!“

„I don’t?“, Zoro had wanted to state, but it came out more like a question. It riled Sanji up regardless.

„Do you know how long we’ve been doing this for? A year, Zoro. I sacrificed a whole goddamn year of my time and you decide to waste it without giving me a reason for that. I don’t even care if its a good reason anymore, but you owe me some kind of explanation.“

„The rules - your rules, said I don’t. We don’t owe each other shit“, he reminded Sanji, because honestly, Sanji could be mad about Zoro’s abrupt leave and blocking him and everything else if he wanted. But he didn’t get to be mad about Zoro sticking to the damn rules, like he insisted for weeks.

„Who even cares about rules at this stage? You wanna tell me you obeyed all the others?“

„I did“, Zoro lied easily, because lying about his feelings for Sanji was something he’d done for ages. It came naturally by now. Sanji however seemed shocked into silence, before his face fell and he lost the tension in his shoulders. He just seemed to fall into himself. Like the only thing holding him upright was anger and now that it was gone, he threatened to just fall over.

„There is someone else, right?“ No there wasn’t. There never has been and at this rate there never will be. But Zoro didn’t know how to express that, so he stayed silent. Sanji drew his own conclusion from that.

„I’m sorry for bothering you then.“ And with that Sanji vanished again, out of the apartment and out of Zoro’s life.

*

Nami came to visit him with a furiousity, Zoro had seen way too often in the past months. She abandoned it completely, when he opened the door with watery eyes.

„You need to talk with Sanji“, she said a few days later over coffee, „really talk. Not one of you dominating the conversation and the other barely getting a word in.“

„What makes you think he’ll talk to me again?“, Zoro asked, skeptical, stirring his coffee for the tenth time now.

„Leave it to me“, Nami offered, being more helpful, now that she abandoned the idea of screaming at him for everything he did and didn’t do. „I know how to get him to you. You just make sure you know what to say, when he’s there.“

So, Zoro got the hard part again.

*

„To be absolutely clear, I’m only here because Nami insisted I came“, Sanji said, instead of a greeting or maybe it was supposed to be his form of a greeting. Zoro’s nerves were way too tense, to focus on what Sanji might or might not mean. He just wanted to get this over with.

„I want to talk to you. Really talk. And if you still want to hate me afterwards, you may“, Zoro answered without bothering to respond to anything Sanji said before. He just needed to keep focus on his goal here, and then everything would be alright. (Or it wouldn’t but he would have tried and that was all that counted.)

„First, I am sorry for running that night. I should have listened to you. You wanna tell me what you wanted to tell me back then?“

„It doesn’t matter anymore“, Sanji spat, looking defiantly at Zoro and crossing his arms in front of his chest. Great, Zoro thought, this was already a less than ideal start.

„Okay, second. I didn’t end this thing, because there was someone else. There wasn’t, never has been. I had a good reason to end our arrangement but that wasn’t it.“

„I’m supposed to believe that?“, Sanji asked incredulous, giving Zoro a look that told him just how ridiculous Sanji thought he was right now. Why could the guy just not take things at face value?

„I am in love with someone“, Zoro admitted, for the sake of keeping Sanji there until he was finished, „but it wouldn’t lead to anything, anyway. So there is really no reason to end everything just because of that.“

„You’ve tried telling them?“, Sanji implored and really Zoro hated that Sanji decided to focus on this and not on the more important matter. What did Sanji care if Zoro was in love, and if it was unrequited?

„No, I didn’t. Didn’t have to. He’s some really great guy, who deserves the world and I’m just -.“ He gestured vaguely at himself, hoping Sanji would understand what he tried to tell him. Sanji raised an eyebrow at that explanation, but stayed quiet otherwise.

„Anything else?“, Sanji asked impatient and Zoro tried to cram his head for something, anything to say. The only thing remaining was to tell Sanji about his feelings. At least that was the only thing that would probably get Sanji to stay and listen a little longer. Or it would drive him away permanently. This could go two ways, really.

Apparently, his decision took too long, so Sanji decided to speak instead: „Figures. Here’s the verdict: I hate you.“ And with that he turned his back towards Zoro, making his way back to the door, and Zoro knew he had lost him forever. There was no going back to what they were before.

„I know, but I love you and I can’t stop it no matter how hard I try“, Zoro said, because this whole thing was going up in flames anyway, so he might as well make sure nothing but ashes remained. Maybe it made a new start easier, if he knew none of the old things were save-able. And if Sanji wanted to vanish from his life for good, he should at least know the truth.

„This whole friends with benefits thing was doomed from start. I broke rule 1 before you even put it in place. I’m sorry for pulling you into this.“

„Not your fault. I let myself be pulled“, Sanji answered getting close to Zoro again before continuing, „maybe rule 1 was the most useless out of the bunch. You never obeyed it, and I failed it after barely a month, too. The only thing it managed to do, was tear us apart in the end.“

There was so much there to take in, things that would have to be discussed, but Zoro didn’t care. Because Sanji’s lips were on his again, finally, and his tongue did explore Zoro’s mouth like it was the first time again. He did this thing, were he pulled Zoro’s lower lip between his teeth and then bit lightly and Zoro was in heaven. He wanted to see Sanji naked again, he needed Sanji everywhere around him and on top of him, and he never ever wanted Sanji to leave again.

Sanji seemed to have the same things in mind