#do you truly die when your body expires?

[unma]

POV: You're the last uncontained breaching abnormality and stumble into a particularly focused employee.

SO I recently found out about @trainingdummyrabbit's Cocoa through their long post about how she came to be and ever since I've been unable to get her out of my mind. I absolutely adore her story and wanted to try and draw this nugget that is totally 100% normal and sane.

[the-fiction-witch]

Heart In My Hands

Media - The Artful Dodger Character - Jack Dawkins Couple - Jack X Reader Reader - Y/n (Hospital Secretary) Rating - Sweet Word Count - 2485

Warnings - Graphic Medical scenes / Victorian doctoring / mentions of Suicide and self-harm/

Y/n nodded as she sat on the spare empty table in the morgue, her lilac dress around her with a tight corset and large crinoline below, her boots swaying a little where her feet didn't touch the floor, she fixed her curls from her face a little adjusting the matching bow that sits in her hair, her eyes on the floor.

Jack looks down at Y/n with his hand on his forehead. "get off my table, I don't want your fancy dress ruining the furniture."

she nodded and sheepishly hopped off standing fiddling with her white cotton gloves,

Jack sighed, "I can tell you want something so out with it, you daft girl." As he spoke he began washing his hands and utensils in a small basin of water.

"Can I stay and watch?" She asked sheepishly,

"Only if you keep quiet so you don't distract me. And you're not allowed to touch the body or anything that can possibly be infected." Jack said in between washing his tools in a small basin of water

She nodded and stood close to the table, close enough to see by far enough not to be a risk of contamination. She watched as he brought his tools to the body and began his work, blood coating his hands as he cut through the body, Y/n stood and watched egarly with a smile

Jack looked up at Y/n as he started cutting. He smiled seeing her eagerness. "Don't forget. I said no talking unless you have an intelligent question that will further the science."

she nodded silently

Jack smiled as he began working. He made his way down the abdomen, cutting the skin open he reached into the body itself and began pulling out the internal organs, dropping them into a basin of water on the floor.

she looked at his work curiously and she spoke "Do you think bodies know what happens to them once they die I suppose of course they can't feel it but I wonder how long the nerves keep working to know what's happening,"

Jack let out a chuckle and smiled slightly. He liked that question.

"Honestly, I think it depends on several variables; the way they died, if they knew they were going to die or not and the cause of death. I don't believe the nerves are active long after someone expires."

"Hum... I'm sure of them do else why do bodies spasm or react? Bodies still bruise after death so one can assume at least something is still working internally"

"If you're speaking on a cellular level perhaps. But on a whole organism level, probably not. I've seen too many a body not do anything after death to believe that there is something truly still working once someone dies."

"I suppose so... People say if you are decapitated your mind is aware for a few seconds, at least while your brain is starved of blood and oxygen"

"Most certainly, but I wonder how long that lasts. Is it really that long or does it feel like it's longer because your brain is panicking and going through millions of possibilities as your organs begin to shut down?" he chuckled,

"When was the first time you saw a body?"

"When I was about your age. Maybe a bit younger. But I remember I was just starting out," he smiled, "What about you? When was your first time?"

"were they already dead? Or did you watch them die?"

"They were already dead. I was given the task of disposing of the body after performing an autopsy. But I think you're avoiding the question; my first time, and your first time.. come on now, let's not play games."

"... I was six" she answered

Jack raised his eyebrow slightly, waiting for a further explanation. For now, he decided to continue working,

"my father was looking after me one afternoon in his study, I was playing with my toys and he uhhh... He hung himself." She nodded sadly "I watched him die ... Saw the end in his eyes, watched his body hang until the maid came in"

"Oh-..oh... I-..." Jack froze for a minute, before he sighed, continuing with his work. He kept his eyes down as he worked, trying not to work through how such a thing would affect a child. "I'm sorry you had to go through that. Especially at such a young age.."

"It's alright, he wasn't a happy man. I suppose I... Found sollis in the morbid" she said still watching his work with fascination,

Jack gave a small nod, knowing what she was saying all too well. "As do I. I often wonder if my obsession for the morbid would exist as strong if I grew up in a more... Normal household."

"Perhaps, but those aren't the people we are" she smiled "... Do you have nurses do this for the female bodies?" She asked, "Or do you do that?"

Jack smiled as she changed the subject. "I'm the only one who touches them. I don't trust the Nurses with something as important as an autopsy."

she nodded "Are women and men really that different on the inside? Other than the reproductive?"

Jack thought for a moment, "Hm... I would say there are subtle differences in the internal structure. Women tend to have a wider pelvis to allow for childbirth, while men have a smaller pelvic area. Both internal female and male sexual organs tend to be shaped differently, however, the rest of the organs tend to be the same."

"hummm... I'd have imagined the ribs and chest to be slightly deformed... Given women have the additional weight of breasts"

Jack chuckled slightly as he nodded "You would think that, but the human body can easily adapt to handle the additional weight and size of the chest. Men, on the other hand, usually have larger lungs than women. Not by a tremendous amount, but enough to notice the difference."

"Oh, I thought men an women were far different" she giggled

"Oh really? You think so?" Jack chuckled and smiled at Y/n. "What gives you that idea?"

"I don’t know doctor’s always seem to have a harder time given women a diagnosis other then, loose weight, close your legs and pray."

Jack nodded. “That’s because most doctors are old pigs who have no idea how women work,”

"that's being a woman, unfortunately, medical men aren't always the most helpful"

"I can very well believe it. I've encountered quite a few of my fellow male doctors in the medical field who would be much better suited working on animals rather than humans. Thankfully, you landed yourself with me. And I'll be certain to never let you see another doctor so long as I can help it."

"thank you jack" she smiled "I wonder sometimes if sneed would be better on dogs then people"

Jack let out a hearty chuckle, he knew that feeling all too well, "Now that's certainly something I'd be more than willing to agree with. In fact, I'd go as far to say that Sneed would be better off as a dog himself."

"I think he'd like being a dog, he already humps everything that moves close enough to him and I wouldn't be surprised if I heard he was licking himself" she chuckled

Jack burst into a fit of laughter. "Oh christ no- you just had to go and make me imagine that! I really didn't need that mental image first thing in the morning!" he complained, "Sneed can't even properly diagnose a basic infection! How the hell he's still qualified to work in this hospital is beyond me.."

"Because he is friendly with Professor McGregor"

Jack rolled his eyes and groaned at the name. "McGregor... Damn that idiot. How he's still a professor, I'll never know. I'd be more than happy to do away with his liver."

"I think the poor liver could use a rest" she smiled "but that is the reason Prof is old and worn out, sneed is a suck-up. Those are the only reasons they are more in charge then you are"

Jack let out an irritated sigh, "Sneed is the type of suck-up that will do anything to get by in life. And McGregor is little more than a tired old fool who cares more about his reputation than his patients. I'm honestly shocked the place hasn't fallen down around them yet..."

"of course, it hasn't, your here"

Jack smiled at Y/n's compliment. "And that's the problem. I do all the actual saving of people, while they just sit up their arses collecting payment." he sighed, "But it's not always bad, I've got my job, and I'm fortunate enough to spend it with such pleasant company like yourself."

"awww" she giggled "if I had it my way I'd make you head surgeon"

Jack shrugged slightly as he laughed. "Ah.. if I had it my way, McGregors position would be mine. He's nothing more than a waste of space in the medical field. Though, I suppose it's only a matter of time before people realise he's not all that he's made out to be. Unfortunately, I don't think the day will come before his time does." he chuckled, "How about you? You got any ideas? Any particular dream job you'd like to have? Or are you alright just doing the secretary work here?"

"I'd like to be a doctor... Such is a dream unrealistic I know"

Jack let out a slight laugh. "Women can’t be doctors, or surgeons. Not my rules, society's rules. All thought I admit in another world… You seem to understand the human body quite well! And you have a kind, pleasant attitude that helps people feel calm. Not to mention a strong enough stomach to stand the sight of blood. You'd make a damn good doctor." he smiled, "But- Sometimes, I forget what century this is..."

"its alright, I don't mind I like helping with the paperwork" she smiled "speaking of which" she grabbed the folder and began doing all the paperwork for him noticing inquiries, weights and other such information happily,

Jack smiled as she went to work on the paperwork. He had a genuine smile on his face when he saw her enjoying something as simple as doing his paperwork. It gave him a warm feeling inside that someone else, even if they weren't a doctor, found the work fascinating. "You know, you're the best secretary anyone could ever ask for. The hospitals never had someone quite as good-looking as you either."

she giggled at his compliments

Jack smiled happily. Having her around made the work so much more enjoyable. Even doing something as mundane as paperwork was more fun, simply because he got to spend time with her. "You keep laughing at my compliments, one of these days you're gonna have me saying something quite embarrassing."

"like what?"

"Hm... Something along the lines of how absolutely angelic you look every time I see you..." Jack stopped working to look up and smile at Y/n. "How everytime I hear your laugh, it's impossible to keep myself from smiling..." He then thought for a second before he continued. "How I wish I saw you everyday, and I feel my heartbeat skip a beat upon sight of you."

she giggled again "If you're going to be giving me such juicy compliments doctor Dawkins you could at very least buy me dinner first" she teased as she finished with the paperwork and came to egarly watch him,

Jack laughed as Y/n came over to watch him finish his work. "My apologies my Lady, I should have realised how forward my statements were. Perhaps I should be a bit more discrete in the future, unless a certain fair lady is interested, of course."

"why? Is a certain doctor asking?" She raised her eyebrow

Jack laughed. "Perhaps he is... Would you consider accepting if he was?"

"she might consider accepting, if he was asking, I think he was asking she'd certainly be interested just depending on what exactly he was offering"

"Well, the Doctor would offer a wonderful night of courtship. Perhaps a dinner, and then maybe a stroll amongst the stars with a beautiful, wonderful and intelligent woman." Jack said with a smile as he finished detaching the heart. As he did, he gave the heart a firm squeeze to remove excess blood. The heart in his hands, he turned to Y/n and offered it out to her. "For you, my lady~"

“I can?”

“Go on,” he nodded,

She giggled so happily pulling off her gloves and taking the heart in her hands, looking it over and describing all the intricate anatomy names she looked as if he’d just handed her a bouquet of roses, Jack found it hard not to smile at her. But she handed it back knowing she’d be in trouble if someone found out,

"Ah, that's rather cruel of you, won't you even accept a heart from a handsome doctor such as myself?" Jack said with a chuckle, In his mind, this was perhaps the closest to giving his heart to Y/n that he could ever get. A somewhat morbid thought, yet not too unexpected for him.

"I would adore to accept... In concept doctor Dawkins however the physical heart may make a mess of my handbag" she giggled cleaning her hands off and slipping her gloves back on, "but if it's all the same to you I would like to accept your offer of a nice dinner and stroll in the stars if that is still available?"

"Well, I suppose that's a fair reason to reject my fine heart. I'd hate to make such a mess of your fine handbag." Jack smiled and laughed slightly as he gently put the heart back down. "In that case, my offer of a night of courtship is still very available. Might I ask, would you be free this coming evening?"

"I would be…"

"Perfect. I'll collect you at 7 this evening. We can skip straight to the main event with dinner, and enjoy the stars afterwards. Sounds lovely, doesn't it?" Jack asked, the happiness and excitement written all over his face,

"it sounds perfect" she smiled

"Fantastic! And if I'm not being too forward in my asking, would I be given access to an official kiss from you if the evening is to your liking?" Jack asked with a smile, slightly embarrassed to be asking such a thing. Yet, at the same time, slightly excited about the prospect of receiving a kiss from Y/n.

"I think it's possible you could get one this evening"

Jack grinned as he finished cleaning himself up. "Well, in that case, I shall eagerly await my evening of courtship and the fine kiss that shall come with it."

"I will too, well I'll see you later Doctor" she smiled taking the paperwork with her and giving him a little wave as she headed out of the morgue and up Into the hospital

Jack gave her a little bow as she waved goodbye, leaving a spring in his step and a smile on his face as he put his things away. He cleaned his working space for the next doctor that would be working there, before leaving to his office, excited for the upcoming evening.

[moonlightdreamzz]

chapter one chapter two

PAIRING ✰ Idol!Wooyoung x Black Female Reader.

SUMMARY ✰ Wooyoung knew what he was signing up for when he dreamed of being a kpop idol. The seemingIy unfair rules were never his favorite part, but he always followed them. What he didn’t know was that he was going to meet you, and all of a sudden the rules would no longer matter to him. You’re the only thing that makes Wooyoung feel alive, and yet, nobody wants the two of you to be together.

GENRE ✰ There is a little bit of everything in here, and you can expect every chapter to have a mixture of angst, fluff, and smut in it.

"Love is heavy and light, bright and dark, hot and cold, sick and healthy, asleep and awake- its everything except what it is!"

Wooyoung chuckles somberly, swiftly locking his phone. Why did he think attempting to read Romeo and Juliet would make him feel any better about his current situation? Romeo and Juliet were stupid, and they cared too much about what others had to say. The only thing he could relate to was their preference to die than be apart.

He presses the power button again, this time to see the image on his lock screen—a picture of him with the love of his life asleep on his chest. There is an instant burst of solace that runs through his entire body. It doesn’t stop at his toes, finger tips, or the top of his head. It begins the fill the entire room, which causes the hairs on Wooyoung’s arms to stand up.

“As you all know, going into effect when you sign this contract, you will not be permitted to date for the first 3 years of your career. Being caught breaking this aspect of your contract, along with everything else in this paperwork will result in a consequence, including possible termination from the group. After your 3 years expires, you must get your relationship approved by the company.”

Wooyoung had been replaying that exact moment in his mind every day for the past couple of weeks, always around the same time — 4:00PM. Ironically, around 4:00PM was also the time he snuck away from his members every day. He had the same routine; he would eat his lunch, and then complain of stomach pain. Of course no one stopped him from using the restroom, and when he was asked why he wasn’t using the restroom nearby he would always have the same answer.

My stomach really hurts. I can’t do what I’m about to do this close to you all, and it’s going to be awhile anyways.

Technically he wasn’t lying. His stomach did hurt, but not because he had to release toxins. The real reason was that the thought of seeing you made knots form in Wooyoung’s stomach, to the point where he could barely breathe or walk even though the two of you had been together for six months.

He truly couldn’t do what the two of you sometimes did tucked away in a room where no one would suspect you two to be. Anyone, for that matter.

The two of you always tried your best to be quiet, but when was true love ever hushed? He couldn't help but become intoxicated off the sound of your beautiful moans, the clapping that filled the room, and the echo of how wet he made you every time, particularly on days when he was particularly worried or had not seen you in far too long. Every room didn’t have a somewhere he could lay you down, but that never mattered. He had made love to you everywhere at this point. Couches, floors, walls, mid air. He knew it was wrong and disrespectful, but it was something about you that made him not care about anything…in a good way though.

It’s now 4:05PM, and Wooyoung can’t help but feel slightly concerned. Even if keeping track of time was not always your strong suit, you were always on time for him. He detested how insane you drove him, God. This emotion never left him, whether it was from him worrying about you or from him knowing you were secure since you were in his arms.

He’s about to shoot you a text when he sees you tip toeing into the room as if you were participating in a robbery. He realized that these days, he wasn’t truly smiling unless it was your doing.

“Baby.” You whisper, your hand hiding your words as if it wasn’t just the two of you in here.

“Yes.” He plays along, standing up as if the queen of the world was approaching him. I mean, if he was being honest that’s what you were in his mind. His arms open for you, and he wants to allow you five more seconds to finish your incredible acting, but he can’t. He practically skips to embrace you.

His arms are squeezing your waist, and yours are around his neck. The embrace puts your bodies in a tranquil state—the both of you exhaling in unison.

“I fucking missed you.” The words spill from his mouth because he had been holding them in all day long.

“I missed you too.” You whisper, yet the passion in your words are so strong. It’s in his scent that you feel at home. In his arms, nothing can hurt you. He always told you that you did the same for him, and you believed him. You believed every single word that came out of his mouth, embarrassing as it was.

“Shit, baby.” He chuckles in embarrassment, not letting you go, but backing the two of you up on the couch that he was sitting on previously. Your newly installed butterfly locs are ticking his arm, but it’s oddly comforting. He knows the tea tree oil from your scalp has likely left it’s mark on the side of his face, but he doesn’t care. “How has your day been? Are you okay? You were a little late.”

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, but there’s a smirk that’s failing to hide on your features. “I planned to be on time, but I got snatched up.”

“Snatched up? By who?” If you were about to tell him that another member tried to make a move on you, or anyone for that matter, he was going to lose it.

“Calm down mr. jealous.” You giggle, adjusting yourself in his lap. “It was just work stuff, I promise. How was your day?”

He doesn’t like how you were avoiding going into detail, but he wasn’t going to argue.

“Let's just say I've been counting down the milliseconds to get to this moment."

Knowing that doing so will draw your chest closer to his own, Wooyoung's fingertips started to trace little butterflies along your spine. He can easily get to you now, and he starts giving you enticing kisses on the neck. Woo knows your body better than anyone ever has. He'd be willing to bet every dollar he'd ever make on that.

Like the way he kisses you, which you adore. In a slow, passionate kiss that is still filled with such heat and passion, his lips move from your neck to your lips.

His hands are so adept at knowing exactly where they should be. He alternates between stroking your ass and softly caressing your back, forcing you to grind your heat over his covered but still provocative bulge.

The thing you cherished most about him in these moments was how effortlessly you two could make love to one another. Never once did anything seem uncomfortable. You were wearing a black crop top jacket, which Wooyoung skillfully unzipped to expose that you didn't have a bra on at all.

"You're a bad fucking girl, I tell you." His low, sensual growl causes him to swiftly cuff and spank your gorgeous breasts before squeezing them together and motorboating them.

For a time, the two of you continue to press against one other until he virtually feeds from your breasts, both of you relishing the sensation of how needy you are for one another. But he is aware that you require more. To win your favor, he will do everything.

In between kisses, he taunts, "You want my hands to be lower, don't you?" His hands begin to run down your stomach, but just as they're about to slip into your biker shorts that are more than ready to slide off, he repositions them on your neck. "Uh oh." He mutters with a mischievous grin.

"You wanna play, baby? Because you know this is a game you'll never win." You tounge begins at his adams apple and licks all the way to the top of his upper lip.

"You're so lucky I don't have more time with you." He remarks as he puts his hands inside your shorts, nearly bursting out from how wet you are. He desires a personal view. He desires to reach out his hands and marvel at how your moisture adheres to his fingers. But his main objective is to accelerate your cum than the previous time.

He gets to rubbing your clit like he always does, and you're grinding into his hand like you always do. Your moans are filling up the room the closer you get, and you are so wet that you know you're going to have to change your panties after this. It would be shameful to make it so obvious what you had been doing in this room.

It's to the point now where you don't even have to grind into his hand anymore. Your head is tilted back as Wooyoung's arm holds you afloat, while his other is making your mind spin from the pleasure you feel.

"Mhm, baby." Woo moans out for you, having trouble believing he's the one putting you into euphoria like this, but then again he always did. He was so in love with you that making you feel good was all he needed. It was as if your bodies were synched. The two of you are lost in each other, both so close to the high your bodies have been craving all day. So high, that neither of you can hear the numerous foot steps coming your way, all in search of your boyfriend who had been "in the bathroom" for way longer than he was supposed to be.

"Maybe he's like, going through something." San attempts to defend, although his tone is weak. He doesn't even believe his own words.

"Regardless, these fake ass bathroom trips everyday are getting ridiculous. I hope he's truly taking a shit," Hongjoong stomps around irritably opening and closing every door in the hallway once he sees no Wooyoung in sight.

"Fuck!"

San and Hongjoong halt in their tracks. They weren't familiar with the voice, but they were dead certain of the activity that a sound like that indicated.

"I beg you, please refrain from being Woo." San thinks to himself in a low voice, knowing that Hongjoong would probably kill him in cold blood if he were to carry out that act in this place. San's eyes would be poisoned forever as well.

"I'm going to-

"Wait!" San attempts to calm his leader down, holding him back from opening what felt like an extremely forbidden door.

"Don't wait me." He responds firmly. The most terrifying aspect of Hongjoong was that. To frighten any of them, he didn't need to yell or puff out his chest. Without it, they could see he meant business.

You had just reached your climax, fully prepared to pay Wooyoung back for how good he just made you feel. You begin to sink down to your knees with a firm grip on his sweatpants when the door swings open.

Wooyoung's heart sinks to his feet, but his first reaction is to defend you. He scoops you up and stands in front of you as quickly as the door opens, with shaking hands and strength he wasn't sure he possessed. He is aware that he has already been caught.

You'd think there'd be silence in a situation like this, but the way everyone's breath told its own tale was tremendously loud. You were at a loss for what to do. Should you extend your hand in solidarity to Woo? Or would that make matters worse? Could it possibly get any worse?

Wooyoung isn't sure how much time has passed, but it felt like days had Hongjoong been staring him down.

"Who are you?" Hongjoong finally speaks, his tone showing he misunderstood your position.

"I...I...I'm nobody." Is all you can muster, quickly pulling on your biker shorts and fleeing the room. Tears build up in your eyes, prompting you to run even faster. You don't know where you're going, but you know you never want to be seen again.

Wooyoung does not hesitate. He tries to flee the room behind you, but Hongjoong beats him to it, pushing him to the ground. Woo catches himself, but it doesn't spare him from the rugburn he got from slipping.

"How dumb are you, huh? You know the fucking rules, Wooyoung. And the fact that you tried to hide this from us? Like it would work?"

Woo is deafeningly quiet, not taking in any of his leader's comments. He can't stop thinking about you and where you are. You were so distracted when you were upset; colliding with objects, falling, and-

"Hello!" Hongjoong practically screams, which causes Woo and San to both flinch aggressively.

His next remarks were ones he'd live to regret for the rest of his life. But he had no choice but to protect you. He needed to preserve your relationship and couldn't have anyone interfering with it.

"It's exactly what she said it was...nothing." HHe sighs innocently. But on the inside, he experiences a heartbreak that seems like someone stomped on it and then crushed it to the ground.

"Then why did you try to chase after her?"

"Because the two of you just raided the room and saw her damn near naked? She was embarrassed and I'm not an asshole? Don't give me the lecture like you don't get your dick wet too."

"Not in the fucking building, I don't. We're not young boys anymore, Woo. And we're trying to get shit done while you're pretending your using the bathroom? To have sex with some random girl?"

"She's-

"She, as cute as she was, needs to go." San saves his member, who he knows is about to divulge what he already knows. That you were more than just a pretty face to him. He had realized the moment the two of you met that Woo had found someone who made him happy. He smiled more broadly. His voice has grown stronger. He seemed to be cheerful about everything. He just hoped his hopeless romantic best friend wouldn't get caught. Damn you, Woo.

There is nothing else to say from Wooyoung. He once more tries to leave the room by getting up off the floor, and Hongjoong this time lets him go. "Don't start looking for her," San mutters as he hurriedly follows Woo. Return to the studio."

Wooyoung knows he has no choice but to listen, this time.

[drainslo]

Lovers To Enemies (Chishiya x Reader)

My life was ruined twice.

The first time was when I entered the Borderlands. The last thing I remember was being at home on my couch with my cat, Milo.

He looked at me with his pretty green eyes, his warm body snuggling next to mine. I fell asleep that way, and I found solace with my feline friend.

That was the last time I saw Milo in months.

I woke up in a world without him. A world where I had to fight for my life everyday in games that were designed by someone truly sadistic.

The second time was when I got involved with Chishiya Shuntaro. A man who was not exactly unlike a feline himself.

I loved him. I would like to believe he felt the same. With Chishiya, you never know what he's thinking even if he tells you.

I think I knew how he felt when he kissed my head softly after patching me up post spades game with Niragi. He fell asleep with me in his arms that night, and somehow stayed in the morning.

I think I knew how he felt when he snuck into Hatter's room the next night to change the game schedule so I would never be in a game with Niragi again.

I made a mistake.

I didn't die, but a part of my soul did because now my Chishiya was gone. The kind eyes that had gradually softened in my presence were replaced with those of a stranger.

I was staring into those hardened eyes when Chishiya was dragging me into Hatter's executive room. I didn't even try fighting back, there was no point in doing so. If Chishiya wanted something he would get it.

Knowing Chishiya, it would be so much worse if I resisted.

He shoved me onto the ground, throwing a walkie-talkie next to me. I could feel the punishing eyes of the Beach executives on my back even as I faced the floor.

I lifted my head slowly to find two other people who were in the same position.

I vaguely recognized the girl, Usagi. I played a game with her two nights prior. That was the extent I knew her, and the boy-- Oh God.

It seemed Niragi had taken an interest in him by the way he was staring him down.

"I found her keeping lookout nearby. She tried to distract me but I saw right through her," Chishiya said calmly. My heart stilled. He didn't even look down.

Niragi finally turned his attention my way. He smiled, looking his lips as he looked between me and Usagi. I barely noticed that I was crawling slowly back. It was pure instinct to get myself away from a predator like Niragi.

"Niragi, you can decide what to do with the traitors. Well done Chishiya," Aguni spoke decisively, his eyes focused on a painting of what looked like an elk.

It was funny how of all things I didn't miss that detail.

"I don't know what Chishiya is insinuating, but I have no idea what he's talking about," I said for the first time.

I opened my mouth to elaborate further when I was promptly cut off by Niragi storming over. I felt a pressure on my back that sucked the air out of my lungs. I couldn't speak even if I wanted to.

"Shut up now, or I'll cut your tongue out later," Niragi hissed while digging his boot into my back.

I held my breath. Was this how I was going to die? It felt like my ribs were going to snap from the sharp stabbing pain in the middle of my chest. It abruptly subsided when Niragi lifted his foot away.

He crouched next to me and grinned again. I was forced to look into his eyes when he grabbed my hair and Usagi's to lift our heads up.

"We are going to have some fun before I kill the both of you."

Niragi turned his attention towards the boy and directed his orders to the militants present. "Tie up the boy and blindfold him so he can't play a game. His VISA expires tonight, let him wonder when the laser is going to kill him," he laughed terribly and forced me and Usagi to our feet.

"Walk." He pointed the butt of his gun to our back to direct us out of the room.

My legs didn't immediately move. They were shaking, and it was like i was cemented to the ground.

I was suddenly on the floor again, my knees painfully hitting the ground. It appeared that Niragi had pushed me with his gun out of impatience.

I looked back at the room of executives, at Chishiya who had put me in this position. Chishiya made eye contact with me for the second time, and something undecipherable flashed in his eyes.

No, it was decipherable. It was satisfaction. This was my punishment. Death was the only suitable punishment for a traitor.

But I wouldn't die immediately. Tears pricked the corner of my eyes as I thought of it. Niragi would make sure that it would be painful.

Not to mention the fact that I was a woman. He could have his way with me--with Usagi too-- and nobody would blink an eye.

"Walk," Niragi repeated.

I walked.

Usagi and I were led to a hotel room and tied down while Niragi and his convoy followed.

His hungry eyes watched as I felt the chafe of the rope around my wrists. He leaned in, and my breath caught as he slowly trailed his tongue down Usagi's arm. No this could not be happening--

The TV screen now had lit up on its own. The weight of his body hovering over mine dissipated as he got off the bed to look at it.

10 OF HEARTS

GO TO THE LOBBY TO HEAR THE RULES OF THE GAME

"Fuck, right now?" Niragi turned to look towards us, and abruptly left the room.

I was untied by someone. Probably one of the militants out of pity.

Everything started to blur together.

I made it to the lobby with Usagi. There was a witch we had to find. The militants decided to kill and burn everyone. There were so many gunshots, so many screams.

The Beach was on fire.

I waited until I heard the game clear, and snuck into the lobby to see the last card.

I was surprised to find Chishiya there as well, his back to mine as he grabbed it from the table.

I pulled out a gun I had stolen from the body of a militant. The sound echoed through the now empty Beach as I cocked it.

"Don't turn around," I lowered my voice menacingly.

He turned around and stepped towards me.

"Or what?" His eyes were dancing with amusement as he kept walking. "You're going to shoot me?"

He was now standing directly in front of me. We were eye to eye, separated only by the distance of the gun I held.

Chishiya's warm hand overlapped mine as he pushed it to the side. He roughly grabbed my chin to force my mouth on his.

I froze as tingles still ran up my spine when he touched me. It was horrible, I hated him for what he had done to me.

What was even worse was how familiar he was.

I struck him on the head with the gun to break contact. He didn't fall, but now gingerly held the spot where I hit him. His hand that I had just touched now was slowly turning crimson from the wound.

"I hope we never meet again," Chishiya smirked and swiftly strode away from the flames.

It was then I realized he took the card with him.

Read Part 2

Read Part 3

Read Part 4

[skakeeper]

Roll for Giggles Part 4

This is a slightly NSFW story that includes: Tickling, light bondage, and body worship. But no direct sexual acts. To read part 1 go here for part 5 go HERE. And as always if you like what you see, feel free to say so, like it, share it, leave a comment. Thanks for reading

They set the timer for the break at 3 minutes and hit go. Thy gave you about 30 seconds

free just to make sure you had your water and were drinking it. Just the thought of how much they care about you brings a smile to your face. You really lucked out with them as a ler, after hearing the horror stories on the web, you half thought they would be a serial killer when you first met. You already had the name in your head about what the news would call them "the Mirthful Murder" the person who tickles their victims to death. But they were nothing like the villan you pictured in your minds eye. They were soft, sweet, caring, and understanding. While there were times you felt like you were going to die do to their machinations, they always brought you back from the brink and made sure everything was perfectly ok.

You even tested them once during your early sessions when they were knuckle deep in your sensitive arm pits and said "red". And before you knew it, you were free, with a water in hand and them apologizing for not reading your body language. When you explained that it was a test to see how they would react they were both relieved and understanding as to why you posed the test. That reaction by them immediately and permanently banished all doubt from your mind about them. They were the real deal.

That's when you felt a poke on your shoulder "Hey, did I break you already?" Comes the voice of the person who was flooding your thoughts just a moment ago "huh... what? Oh... no, sorry. Just got lost in my thoughts" You admit with a sheepish grin. A wide toothy smile as your ler playfully shoves your shoulder "You be careful getting lost in there, I haven't had a chance to clear it out of all thoughts. It's dangerous in there." You can't help but laugh at that, they are such a goober at times and they always illicit smiles from you no matter what they do. You really appreciate that about them.

"So far, how are you liking the game?" They ask you, and you know they want honest feed back. "It's great. It's innovative, creative, and while there is a semblance of choice, it all boils down to what the dice say" you reply in an thoughtful tone. "So far, just after one roll of the dice, I am well and truly flustered by it. I can almost still feel those stupid bristles in my belly button, and you know how much I hate that" you tease with your voice dripping with sarcasm. You both giggle at that, maybe they aren't the only goober here, but meh, what the heck. When in Rome.

You don't notice the timer as the conversation rolls on like a hummingbird on crack, neither of you keep to a single topic for too long and then you hear the beeping of the alarm. "Well that's break" they say. You look confused for a second, where did the time go? They see your confusion "time flies when you're having fun, but now to get back to it" they remark as they hand you the dice. *Well, here we go again* you think to yourself as you get the D20 and roll it. When it comes to a stop your heart skips a beat and your ler's eyes light up. Staring up at you, as if it was mocking you from the felt lined bowl is the number you at the same time longed and dreaded to see, a 20. "OH ho ho, a nat 20" your ler exclaims in glee "man first a 17, now a 20? The dice either hate you or love me." You respond in a mocking tone "meh meh meh me meh me meh" and you stick your tongue out. "Now what shall I use for the next 20 minutes?" They ask as you roll the d12, with both of of you knowing no matter what comes up, you know you're going to be howling before the timer expires. So you give it a toss and it lands on a 12. “Awe come on!” You exclaim and with a sigh as you give the dice two more rolls, they come up with a 1 & 7 They playfully flex their fingers in your face "I always appreciate a good finger workout, and my mouth gets to play with your feet? Thanks for rolling those for me." You're response is just a mock grimace. "Now how hard should this little guys go about their giggly work?" You roll the d10 and a thought that this is rigged against you flashes through you mind as it lands on an 8. "Uh ohhhh someone is in trouble. But how deep trouble?" They ask as you roll the d8 and you roll a 3. A slight relief, better a normal chair than the dreaded *loved* tickle chair. "And what part of you am I going to be working on for the next 20 minutes?" This is the moment of truth, they put all your worst parts on the board, but there are some worse than others. You pick up the d6 and your heart drops like a feather in a vacuum. A 1, your feet, one of the if not the most ticklish parts of your body. "Woooooow" they remark "I was just joking about the dice hating you, but they really *really* do. So you are going to be chair tied, and my fingers and mouth are going to work your poor, sensitive feet for the next 20 minutes? At least you'll have a smile on your face." You can do nothing but stick out your tongue and that causes them to chuckle.

"Come on, the sooner we start, the sooner it's over for you" they say as they stand up and hold out their hand for you to take. You nod at that logic and take their hand and they bring you to a wooden arm chair that you have used in upper body tickles, but never with your feet being tickled. It has a padded back, and padded arms. You can see the scratch marks left on the ends by your nails. Its a sturdy chair, a comfortable one too. This has you interested though you would never openly admit it, not yet. "Please sit with your arms on the arms rest" and you obey laying your arms on the rests. They take cling film and encase your forearms, sealing them like glue to the arm rests. They then take the film and wrap your still exposed pink midsection to the back. "OK, you ready to lay down?" They ask. "Wait what?" Your mind starts running to what they mean "w-why lay down?" You stammer out. They look at you and matter-a-factly say "to get at your feet silly. How can I get to them like this?" The question makes you see the logic if it all. "Uh... ok, but... won't it hurt?" You ask more of curiosity than actual fear. "It shouldn't, but you know if it does, all you have to do is say so and I'll stop." That was so reassuring, and with your curiosity sated for the time, you nod to be laid down. They move behind you and gently, almost reverently, they tip your chair back and guide you to the ground. Your head kisses the ground, your roll it around as if you are already laughing and notice a problem "Can I have a pillow please?" With out a word they go to the spare bedroom and get you your pillow that you left here for when you spend the night after getting wrecked. They place it under your head and you give it the same treatment as you did before. If this pillow could talk, the stories it would tell would fluster you to death. "OK friend, legs on the legs of the chair please." They ask and you obey. They fix your legs so they are straight on the legs of the chair and wrap them with the film. Well wrap would be putting it lightly. They dang near encase your legs from your calf to your knees in that clear, selfsticking substance. "Ok, try to get out" they ask and you give it the ol' college try. But try as you might, there was no give to be had, no slack to be found. To put it another way, you were going no where, and you love it!

So there you are, your are on a well padded chair, arms legs and body sealed to with with near clear wrap, your head on a pillow with your eyes staring up to the ceiling. Your feet, which are for the moment still encased in the protective layer of your shoes and semi-protective layer of your socks, are just handing from the end of the chair. Before your ler begins, they triple check that everything feels safe and comfortable. When you confirm that you do indeed feel safe, they show you the timer set for 20 minutes and hit start.

They put their phone down and you lose sight of them. But you feel them picking at the knots on your shoes, you don't tie them tight when you come to a session because you know that will only delay the inevitable. With in a few second they reverently take off your shoes. You know they love your socks, and so you chose their favorite pair. As your socked feet are free from what your ler calls “Shoe prison” you tease them by wiggling your toes and remark with a grin “It feels good to be out of those shoes.” As is tradition, and one you have come to look forward to because of how it makes you feel and how they look forward to it, your ler gives a soft kiss to each of your socked toes. This causes you to giggle, you have never had someone so interested in your socked feet before them and it feels good. “Now that the formalities are out of the way, lets get to it” They say as you catch a glance at the clock, 18:57 Ha you think to yourself they already wasted a minute on this, maybe if I am oh so cute with my socks, they'll forget everything about tickling me. You smile at the thought and wiggle your feet, but you know that your ler is only going to take that as an invite to really get into it. Its a tactic you have tried before and they ALMOST fell for it, but one giggle from your lips snapped back to reality and you paid for it with tears and laughter. They start slowly, just tracing the outline of your socked feet with their fingers, just teasing the covered nerves on your feet. That sends warning signals to your brain, but you try to fight through it. Just focus on your breathing, make them work for it you think to your self. Your wrapped chest starts to heave a little harder as they slowly walk their fingers up from your heels and every so often they “slip” and they slide along the soles. They haven't really started yet and already you have a massive grin plastered on your face. You look over and see only twenty seconds have slipped off the clock oh boy you think, and thats the last thought you have as without warning all ten of their fingers dig into your soft, sensitive. socked soles and your mind goes white. “AHAHAHA” You burst out laughing. You thrash against the plastic that is binding you to this chair of doom, but its no use, there is no give. Your head rolls around on the pillow as the your unfettered laughter fills the room, and echos back mockingly to your ears. “Ah, I am so happy you rolled like this, I was hoping to have some quality alone time with your feet.” Your ler teases as they use one hand to hold the left foot, but sadistically scrub the right one, your brain not knowing what to make of it all and all you can do is lay there with laughter pouring out of you. “You know, you always wear such the best socks, I need to taste them a bit” they say. “W-W-WAIHAHAHAHAIT NO-NOHOHOHOT YEHEHET” You exclaim and you know when their mouth gets added to the party, thats its for you. “Hey, you rolled them, not me” they say as the feeling you knew was coming finally arrived. The feeling of their teeth just nibbling the sock clad balls of your feet, and the only thing you can do at that point is screw your eyes shut and laugh your head off.

What feels like an eternity later, you get the slightest of reprieves as they pause for a second to let you catch your breath as they take your socks off. In this moment you catch a glance at the clock 13:23. How has only 5 minute passed. Guh, I hate tickle time you think to yourself as tears of laughter and joy trickle down the sides of your head. After a few seconds, your socks are off and your soft feet are exposed to the world.

“Well that was a fun warm up” they remark and all you can do is try to catch your breath as soft giggles pass your lips from the still tingling soles. “Hold on a second, I have an idea” they say as they walk around to you and take their phone and pause the clock. “I know you absolutely love to have the space between your toes tickled, but they are just so dang squrimy sooooo, im gonna tie them back.” With that, they get two zip ties and loosely zip them around your ankles, not that you needed more securing in that department. Then comes the string, and one by one your toes are tied back and separated from each other to the zip ties. As your ler asks you, you give them a wiggle and shake, they aren't budging and there is no pain or discomfort. You do feel how tight the skin is on the soles of your feet, but that was to be expected, as you brought it up before and they explained to you the fact that your skin is just stretched a bit. After, again, checking to make sure you are safe they start the clock. This is going to be a long 13 minutes you think to yourself. That is when you feel the warm wet feeling of their tongue sliding between your toes. You yelp and jump at the unexpected feeling of saliva so soon, and you start to giggle and moan. This tickles, but is also feels wierdly good. Its hard to explain the sensation that is going on in your brain. While your mind is focused on the feeling of their tongue between your toes, they start have their fingers do a devilish dance on your tight soles. If you weren't tied up so well, your reflexes would have sent your foot straight up to their jaw. You let out a cackle of laughter as their fingers find all of your spots. Its like they have a map, which of course you know they do. Their dexterous digits dig into your soles as their tongue plays ever so lightly with your toes and you have no thought, no recourse, all you can do is laugh. You try to fight, you try to close the gaps between your toes, but its pointless. Your feet and toes are stuck fast against the onslaught of tantalizing tickles. Just as you are kind of getting used to this, they change tact. All ten of their fingers attack your left foot, one hand focusing on your sole, the other bobbing in and out of your toe gaps. Their mouth on the other hand is gently munching up a storm on your right foot. Their teeth gently scraping from the balls of your feet, through your soles and to your heels and back up again. You don't know what is worse for you, for this is a new tactic they have unleashed, and that sends you from your normal laughter, straight to full on uncontrollable howling hysterics. You pull with all your might inadvertently trying to break free, you pull so hard on the arms, you feel like they may break. But there is no give to be had in the construction of this chair. What was once a trickle has now become a torrent of tears streaming from your eyes, soaking the pillow case under your head. “Boy your feet sure are ticklish, I can't believe that I haven't tried this yet. Ten out of ten I have to say” says the person who is putting you through this torment with childish glee seeping from their voice.

Just when you think it can't possibly get any worse, it does. Their fingers go from attacking one foot to attacking your toe gaps, each finger nail scraping like there is gold buried in-between your toes, and their mouth jumps back and forth between your feet. You never know where they are going to strike next, it is a hopeless situation that leaves you making a cacophony of cackles that your ler says are “Music to my ears”. Thats when the music to your ears sound. The alarm. Its been 20 minutes of pure ticklish torture. As the alarm sounds, your ler stops what they were doing and starts to gently free you. Taking the strings off your toes, and cutting the zip ties. As they go about their work to give you your freedom, you try to catch your breath. Your mind is racing at a thousand miles an hour, still waiting for the next ticking sensation to come from them, you strain to catch your breath as you are brought upright and they go about freeing the rest of your body “Well then, that was fun wasn't it?” You don't even have the energy to respond, faint giggles still passing your lips, your ears still ringing with the sound of your own laughter and their barbed teases, so you just nod. “After a time like that, I am giving you a 10 minute break, don't want to wear you out too fast now do we?” They ask as the final binding is cut loose and you look at them with your brain slowly coming back to you and a glint of determination and playful defiance in your eyes “As if you could.” With a chortle they help you up, your feet are still so sensitive after being worked on so much, and they guide you back to the couch. Water in hand you drink and wonder what next devilish delights do the dice hold for you.

[mynotsohealthyobsession]

Disembodied parte 4/8

Warning: Mention of death // Angst // Fluff

Pairings: Adrian Raines X MC // Nik Ryder X MC

Words: 1.277

As always, tags in the reblog!

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

They both stood rooted in place. Neither of them moved or said a word. It seemed like time had stopped and neither of them knew how to reset it. Their eyes studied each other's faces, recognizing themselves. Amy saw the ponytail that Alex had made with her hair, something truly unusual for her. Alex, instead, noticed that Amy had picked her more casual clothes, avoiding anything hunter-related.

After a while, Amy walked inside the penthouse and closed the door behind her, leaning her back against it to keep her distance. She cleared her throat, trying to compose herself. "I don't know if you are who I think you are but–"

"You are Amy." Alex cut her. "The real Amy."

"And you are Alex."

"Yes."

"We need to talk."

"No kidding. Let's start with what's going on and why are you in my body?"

"I don't know." Amy said sorrowfully. "I've been asking myself that for over a week." Alex stood quietly, simply observing Amy and what used to be her body. It was curious but for some reason, she trust Amy. She sighed.

"So I guess you know as much as I do."

"If you know absolutely nothing, then yeah, we are on the same page." Alex chuckled grimly.

"I need a drink." Alex said and Amy observed how her former body moved to the kitchen without her conscience in it. Like she was watching an extremely realistic movie about herself. “Where the hell is the alcohol here?”

"There's a wine cellar under the counter."

"You have been here before?"

"Yeah. Adrian let me stay here for a while last year." Amy looked around nostalgically. "And we celebrated our first victory here."

"I see." Alex returned with two glasses and a bottle of wine, sitting back in front of Amy again. "This has to be the strangest thing I've ever seen in my life." She commented. "And trust me, I've seen a few really weird things."

"Yeah, me too." She took the glass that Alex was passing her taking a big and grateful sip of it, trying to relax her nerves.

"I don't know if you know but I'm a vampire." She thought over her words for a second. "Well, you are a vampire."

"I imagine it." Amy sighed. "After what happened I guess it was the only option."

"Does it bother you?"

"...No. I didn't want to die or leave Adrian and the rest behind." She touched her chest. "There are too many things I want to see and do yet."

"I know the feeling."

“I tried to talk with Adrian about it before everything but it wasn't the right time. The truth is… I wanted to be Turned. Maybe under better circumstances but…” She took a deep breath. "Anyway… Apparently, you have new powers too."

"I do?" Amy put her hand up, the palm facing the ceiling, and concentrated, closing her eyes. After a while, her skin became warmer and Alex gasped. "Oh, I can't wait to test those babies out." She grinned until their reality hit them again. "If we actually manage to get this right."

"We will. We have to."

"What happened to Thomas?"

"Thomas?" Amy paused for a second. "Oh, that white thing." She nodded. "When I woke up, I killed it, with your new powers."

“Finally. That bastard gave us a lot of problems.” Alex left her glass on the table. “Everybody is okay, right?”

"Yes, they are all fine. They were more concerned about you.” She took the bottle, removing the cork again. “Nik came with me, actually."

"Oh."

"You don't sound too happy. Should I tell him to leave?"

"No, it's just… Things are complicated between us right now."

"I see." Amy filled the glasses again. "If it's worth anything, he's been really worried about you." Alex shrugged, looking down at the red wine. "Are you close to him?"

"I thought I was." Her stare became distant like her mind was somewhere else. "But apparently his care has an expiration date." Amy nodded, taking a sip. "How about you and Adrian?"

"We are. I think…" Amy smiled. "...We are kinda dating? Maybe?" She grinned for a moment until her eyes focused on Alex and her smile was gone. She hadn't thought of what had happened here until now. They had kissed? Or maybe more? She couldn't blame him if it was the case, he would have thought it was her, but it would hurt either way.

"I think you should know that nothing happened between us."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I have the feeling that he was wanting to talk about something with me… You… But the second he noticed something was different, he kept his distance." Alex swirled the reminds of wine in her glass, pensive. “I think that, deep down, he knew I wasn’t you.”

“I’m not that surprised, to be honest.” Amy gently chuckled to herself. “Adrian is really perceptive at times.”

“I think he is especially perceptive about you.” Amy drank a sip, covering her smile with the glass.

“Same goes for you and Nik, you know.” Alex bit down her bottom lip, looking a little sad. “And nothing happened between us either. Actually, he gave me a really hard time.”

“He gives everyone a hard time.” Alex stood, getting close to the dark window and looking down to where Adrian and Nik were waiting for them. “He is kind of an ass but his heart is in the right place. Most of the time at least.”

“He also wants to talk with you about something. From the moment I woke up.” Alex nodded absently. “You don’t seem surprised.”

“I’m not. Before Thomas’ attack he…” Alex sighed. “Let’s just say we weren't on the same page.”

“I understand.” Amy also let her gaze wander to wander to the outside world. “Are you ready to go?”

“As ready as I’m going to be.” She took a jacket and they both walked to the hallway, taking the elevator down. Seeingthe woman exit the elevator, the men walked over.

“Everything okay?” Adrian asked.

“Yeah.” Amy smiled at him and Alex cleared her throat.

"I think I should introduce myself. Alex Fontaine. And…" She hesitated before continuing to talk. "...Adrian, I'm sorry that I've lied to you for this past week, I–"

"There's no need for that." His tone was polite and normal, not angered at all. "I understand why you did it."

"Thank you."

"Alex," Nik called her. She didn't say a word, simply watching him with a mix of anger and sadness in her posture.

Amy called Adrian's attention with a discreet squeeze on his upper arm. "Maybe we should give them some privacy." She murmured to him.

"I appreciate it but that's not necessary," Alex said, firmly. "First, I think we should try to figure this out." She narrowed her eyes looking at Nik's eyes directly. "Then we'll see."

"Works for me." Nik agreed. "Ivy is going to join us in a video call. She decided to stay back in NOLA and check some books."

"We can use the conference room for that," Adrian said, guiding the group through the doors to the elevator.

Nik whistled looking around. "Nice setup, man. Are you trying to compensate for something?"

"Nik!" Alex reprimanded him but Adrian just smirked.

"Curious. That was my exact thought about your many weapons." He opened the conference room and gave Nik access to the main computer to call Ivy. Only a minute later, her face popped on the wall screen. After exchanging a few friendly words, she looked straight at the camera.

"I have found a few things about this you all need to hear."

✨️

[zhushi-moved]

when  ren  isn't  under  the  influence  of  mara,  he  is  an  actual  person  who  feels  emotions.  not  showing  your  emotions  doesn't  mean  you  have  none.  a  cold  exterior  is  often  in  place  to  shield  your  inner  self. 

imagine  living  over  700  years,  well  past  your  expiration  date,  without  the  ability  to  die,  regardless  of  how  much  your  mind,  body  and  soul  screams  at  you  to  lay  down  and  enter  your  final  sleep.  on  top  of  that,  losing  your  identity,  your  loved  ones,  your  home,  and  at  times,  even  your  own  autonomy.  over  the  years,  he  has  lost  so  much  more  than  what  others  know.  it  is  no  wonder  as  to  why  he  has  closed  himself  off. 

whilst  he  is  strict  about  following  the  script  and  intends  to  follow  through  with  his  orders,  he  isn't  cold  to  be  cold,  and  he  would  not  consciously  put  loved  ones  in  harms  way.  nor  would  he  sincerely  judge  another  for  having  emotions  in  response  to  what  they  are  doing.  scolding  firefly  can  be  taken  several  ways  and  i  think  that's  the  point.  ren  understands  her  soft  nature,  which  is  another  reason  why  he  warns  her.  he  knows  what  will  happen  if  she  becomes  too  invested  in  things  "out  of  the  script".  she's  only  going  to  suffer,  to  needlessly  experience  pain,  over  things  they  can't  change  -  if  they  truly  intend  on  bringing  about  the  future  that  elio  has  foreseen.  she  already  goes  through  enough  as  it  is. 

ren  was  a  literal  hero  who  helped  people  because  he  wanted  to  help  them.  he  didn't  wake  up  and  lose  all  his  traits,  his  personality,  his  core  being,  what  makes  him  who  he  is.  otherwise,  we  would  only  ever  see  him  being  forcibly  contained  by  kafka,  used  as  a  weapon  and  treated  as  such.  true  monsters  don't  have  the  capacity  to  think  or  feel,  they  exist  for  chaos  and  strife.  elio  clearly  saw  something  in  him.  something  that  ren  has  lost  sight  of.  and  it's  not  just  his  "amazing  healing  abilities". 

ren  is  embarrassed  and  truly  HATES  what  he  has  become.  his  current  existence  is  a  SIN  in  his  eyes  and  he  is  doing  his  best  to  undo  it.  if  elio  would  just  tell  him  how  to  end  it,  then  he  would  go  off  into  a  corner  by  himself  and  do  just  that. 

ren  is  soft,  he  cares,  but  he  has  an  immortal  demon  on  his  back,  weighing  him  down.  he  literally  warns  people  to  distance  themselves  from  him..  because  he  knows  what  he  is  like  when  under  the  influence  of  mara.  it  is  ugly,  and  he  does  not  deny  that  fact.  his  awareness,  his  warnings,  his  softness  /  protectiveness  with  firefly,  are  just  some  of  the  few  things  that  make  me  fully  believe  that  there  is  a  hell  of  a  lot  more  to  him  than  what  has  been  presented  to  us. 

again,  this  is  just  my  take.  others  may  not  agree  in  full,  and  that's  fine.  but  i  have  always  been  the  type  to  dive  into  emotions  when  it  comes  to  writing,  and  this  man's  emotions  are  messy,  but  they  are  also  vast  and  endless. 

[libidomechanica]

But lets it so large an orb, as truly, know

And one the light, then quickly gone?     Around that motto drew. Show! A thousand honour of union     was Juan; whom shall have he did sip, and cast up from their     order keep we thinks gay Punch hath ending in her eyes nor     ears, till older man who

loves me again: the Future I     embrace; and lady friends them all this sick period close     the curtains over you except once on a day, so short,     and made a monument, so well served in this very weel     aff like Autumne plums, did

drop, and cause some pinnes hurt did     whine, by my side, so is her eyes glowing first. Strait is the     kitchen lightning a candle to touch upon them. Has     powerless Heliades melt into his repartees. When the     landscape which sight, they rode;

they take your regular in     paradise had more white with vagabonding sheets. A hidden     mystery once, and put the chosen it. Pensive he eyes,     lips another; no sister flower—may choose her voices     die, vibrates in the doors

ajar? His Soul was constant     colonies at last, to fold, birds more purpose lost, where am     I? Brake with her arms infold him his smoke occupied their     true hypocrite at least all price, when in an hour with you     fightingale does shed

its cool underwater filter’d     in a thoughted Venus having wretch! Some deem it but her     wings which in rubles, diamonds, cash, and sees best work, yet swell     threshold, he, or hand had my load before the saints and saints     had once think’st thou need not

see a single laughing at his     way, but true,—last war the wayward love, my bright sun glorifies     their guided steps can find nothing hastily. Which lovers     dream of Heaven to reach heart shall know, it is very     miserable Knight thee, which

is the stature, all are but with     the bench behind the clove, and murmurous vestibule his     youth, and the realme of Lorraine; and draw one Breath you this. Where     were dewd with many a sniggering flames in eyes? Pensive     he eyes, thoughts so sweetly

doth fall, the fetid wombs of blood,     with stay thought, in pity of love their hearts to—all at last     wet step before the wall, like Autumne plums, did drop a flowers     with the hung his common- place! Farewell, hear, mistress, for     Tyrans make a lyzard

dull, to taste. From each light voyage     or Shah, and the nymph that Fate avenges arms Shirúeh with     her grieve: for sharply, and hotel; thy packets, all hoped to     find its love a sister flows away; a single laughter     loved the best presume for

I have my body’s bane would surpass     the equinox, that sliding hip to haunch. Is it thy     seal-manual on my thought to owe, insolvent every     willing me. Thou dost speak no square were out of the dale, the     mysterious: besides,

so plied and stitched up in fatal     Juan ever made. The little Turk refused to walk away,     as with burning in a fit of waste, refuse and dubious     bone, though the cold ran the welkin volleys out his poor     old breast. Various arts

of melancholy rite for the     break. I am the heavy Saturn laugh’d, as if it seems     unkind. Of a wee white should not that ourselves awake, and     expire; so was of more perjured eye, to see me weep so     sore, hey ho! Don Juan now

was she. You tell the slow-picked, halting     travell’d; and kissing injury, revenge from his ivied     nook glow like a race- horse; much as may be Boaz, and     fingers on this wish, nor blank; it means to immure herself     in me. Birds, gusts and now

she will Europe’s sagest head.     Be cut in Phaeton’s time, and destroy the cattle’s feet, scrambling     ecstasy, till Paradise: wheels round my hope! When Newton     saw an apple doth sit, long siege to their fox-hunt o’er     its steady surprise a

heap of pain. An image I do     steal thyself, by turns to pull. Here he could tell nought can tire,     and Lamia, what can ye recognition from thy     should be able for know, through or smooth as snow she seeks: he     shoulders, heav’n-directed,

to go, whilst ravish’d with no soul     and unload all good to live. Mae nor mermaid’s voice and alone     the writhed her to Its delicacy—stoops at once     ye shall lay bare her long by hardest fate, the bows her heart.     He spoke, and yet these dinner;

angle, the soldier’s death’s ebon     dart, to strike the prison’d in her, she: but thou, that turns     up through they rang on her troubled brain;—and tug at the all     over America. Teaches one to folk—remember     me when the low starlight.

Who, in my e’e, to this flesh helps     soul! Nor did when they: alas that joy can get a fresh beauty     is to me as laughter knit into each other ran     in his magic vapour of some a little leaning up     this proud head lolled back,

nor brag not of. Just such art as     from a half-unquench’d volcano go. Have in the primrose     bank whereon with brasswork prinked, each leaning in the god     of day, to lord and lads indifference certes, she was     Nor more than she frame to?

[tinyghostdragon]

Sticks and Bones - An RPG Player Character Story

Character: Leaf the Changeling

Game: Shadow of the Demon Lord

Summary: How Leaf acquired her current form.

~ ~ ~

Leaf walked slowly among the corpses. The air stank of blood, gore and shit and piss. She tried not to think about that. She had a job to do. She did not like it but there was no way around it.

It took her a while. Long enough to get used to the smell. The sight remained disturbing. Severed body parts, bones sticking out of flesh, so much blood... She tried to be thankful for it though. She did not want to become too jaded.

Eventually she found what she was looking for. She looked at his broken body, trembling with rasping breath. His left shin had a jagged bone piercing outward into the air. His chest had contours no human should have. The fingers of his left hand could only be known as fingers due to their location at the end of his arm. He had not even been wearing armor, poor man. So yes, he would die. It would be slow and agonizing. She could change that. She knelt next to him.

He looked at her with confusion clouded in pain. No fear, at least not at her. A scrap of a blessing, for Leaf at least. People usually didn’t like it when her sticks were showing.

“Who… wha… who are you?”

She tilted her head. “I’m Leaf,” she said. “What’s your name?”

“Emmet,” he replied after a while.

“Do you have family, Emmet? Someone you’d like to get a message to?”

Emmet’s breath came out in a staccato rhythm and for a moment she feared he would expire right then and there. But managed to pull through just enough.

“Mama… at Pine Drops village.”

Leaf squeezed his shoulder. A ripple past through her body and his throat constricted as it shifted to accommodate his new voice. “I’ll tell her you love her.”

Emmet smiled. Then the smile froze and his eyes glazed over. His breath stopped.

Leaf sighed. He closed the dead man’s eyes and ‘Emmet’ stood up.

** The Pine Drops village wasn't there anymore. Or, it was but it was smoking ruins for the most part. Only a few lonely cottages were left, silent and empty. Leaf's heart sank. He had thought about what he would find on arrival but he had not truly made the connection between the war waging dozens of miles away and the places those dead soldiers had gone to war for. Unless they had been conscripted. That was always a possibility.

He walked on. Ruin after ruin, some older, some still smoldering, went past. He knew this was the one Emmet had given the name of. But their enemies had gotten there first. Was there anyone left to take his final message?

Muffled wailing drifted to his ears. He turned towards it and walked faster. He didn't think it sounded like a cry of pain or urgency but he wasn't really the best at knowing so he tried not to jump to conclusions.

As he approached the sound, he was more and more certain it was a woman. In moments he caught her in his sight and walked closer with deliberately loud steps.

She started at his approach, letting out a little scream that was half a plea, half a battlecry.

"Emmet!"

The woman rushed him and hugged him tightly. Leaf felt her fingers dig into his back. After a moment of hesitation, he returned the hug.

"Oh, gods, what a relief to see you", she said, rambling on about an attack by unknown soldiers, chaos and shouts, blood and bodies. Leaf tried to keep up but the woman's shock was making her jumble in her explanation.

"We have to run," she went on. "We have to find others. Other people must have survived. They cannot have killed everybody."

Leaf disagreed but running seemed like a fair idea. And he still had a task to find Emmet's mother. This woman might be able to help, given that she clearly knew -- had known -- Emmet.

"Emmet? Are you alright?" She peered at him. "It's me, Eleanor, your neighbour. Remember?"

Leaf bit his lip. He must have been out of character with his silence that the woman's terror gave way to puzzlement and worry. He gave up. He did not know Emmet at all and could not impersonate him. He wasn't much of an actor anyway.

"Emmet sends his love for his mama."

At first, silence. Then, a growing look of horror and confusion. That one Leaf definitely knew. But what would have followed he would never find out, as suddenly there was a triumphant shout from the hill rising just behind the tree line. Leaf couldn't make out what was said but the shout itself was enough to blow Eleanor into a panic.

"We need to run, oh lords and ladies, they're gonna kill us, they'll rape me and gut you, oh Emmet, we have to run."

She stood frozen in place. Leaf, now hearing even more shouting, grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently.

"Look at me," he commanded quietly. She obeyed. Leaf saw a green glow reflected in her eyes, felt the ripple on his body, their body, her body, and finally the confusion on Eleanor's face that almost overrode the terror.

"Run," Leaf ordered. Her voice sounded weird from the inside. She guessed she might someday get used to it.

Eleanor didn't move. Leaf had to give her a tiny push towards the woods to wake her from her daze. Then she ran. A few stumbles later she was off like a hunted hare. Which she probably was, in a sense.

Leaf turned towards the shouts. She now saw people in armor coming towards her. She turned and started running along the road. She would duck into the forest after a while. Hopefully it would lead all the pursuers away Eleanor.

For herself, Leaf wasn't too worried. Most foot soldiers used iron weapons. If she got hit, 'Eleanor' would disappear and after nightfall no one would notice some rustling leaves and muddy sticks among all the rest of the leaves and sticks.

[sadnesslaughs]

You pretend to be a small-time villain. At most, you annoy the local supes, but your crimes never hurt anyone. To you, it’s all good fun. Things change when a truly sadistic super villain invades your turf and murders a few of the supes. No one has ever seen the extent of your powers until now.

(A response to a writing prompt)

“People often make the mistake of thinking us villains are lawless. That isn’t true. We have laws, just ones governed by our own discretions. Morally grey laws, but laws none the less. I thought a dog like you would be able to see those grey tones.” Marvis said, the villain’s voice drifting around Vlad Stake, who was currently scanning the alley for any sign of her.

While Vlad was the sadistic and crazy type, he wasn’t stupid. Keeping his stake held tightly in his grip, feeling the wooden splinters dig under his skin as his red eyes bounced in every direction, trying to spot her. “Some of the other villains told me about you. Said you would bitch when I moved in on your turf. You’re a nobody, though.”

Marvis gave a dignified laugh, chuckling at his words. “You’re dreadfully scared of a nobody, then. If you had a living heart, it would be beating through your chest. A vampire inspired villain killing with a weapon primarily used against vampires. I give it an A for effort. As far as gimmicks go, it’s interesting.”

“What did you call me?” Vlad’s black biker jacket bounced as he waved his stake, threatening the air by giving it a few violent jabs. “Come out here. I’ll put you down like those other heroes.” Vlad said. His sharp fangs resting on his lip, exposing them to Marvis in an act of intimidation, trying to regain some footing.

“I didn’t call you anything.”

“You called me a gimmick.”

“I said… nevermind.” The older woman stepped into the light, dressed in a snug winter sweater, one displaying a bunch of kittens fighting over a ball of wool. Those squared glasses of hers resting on the bridge of her nose, with a small silver chain helping to keep them from sliding down her face. “You’re going to put me down?”

As soon as he saw her, he grinned, licking his lips. “So, you really are just an old bag? What a pity. I can’t even drink your expired blood.” He strutted forward, twirling the wooden stake. “I’m not sure if I’ll even get the chance to kill you before you die of old age.”

Marvis remained undisturbed by his threats, letting out only a soft sigh of frustration. “I am going to put you down, dear. Like the rabid beast you are.” She glanced around the alley, noting where her microphones were. A bit of deception was always handy, especially when she didn’t know exactly what she was up against. “Do you know my powers, dear?”

“Dunno. You make people sleepy or send them into fits of laughter? Didn’t bother reading up on you.” He shrugged, getting into her range. He was about to drive his stake into her, before she reached out, grabbing his arm, the action causing his muscles to tense.

She held his hand up, looking into his eyes. “There’s a phrase. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. My powers are similar. I can make you experience feelings or sensations that you put others through. With heroes, I tell them to experience a cherished memory they did for somebody else. For some, it’s making a friend or family member cry with laughter because of one of their jokes. For others, it’s that sensation of being put to sleep by a mother or father.”

Vlad tried to pull away, but was too weak to do so. It was as if the blood was draining from his body, making him unable to even properly stand, collapsing into Marvis, who kept him held upright. He could only look up at her as the old villain patted him on the back.

“Don’t give me that sad look now, sweetie. You can’t be saved. I’m sorry, you need to pass on. Before you go, however, I want you to feel everything you put those poor people through. Experience their pain.” After giving that command, she covered his mouth, silencing him.

She didn’t watch his body, only feeling it contort and twist against her, being subjected to the same violent deaths that the heroes had gone through. When it was over, she removed her hand, using a wet wipe she kept in her pocket to clean the blood from her palm. “Vampiric powers, without the immortality. That’s unfortunate.”

Unlike Vlad, Marvis had done some research on this new villain, making sure his healing had limits. It didn’t take her long to find out that his healing factor was determined by how much blood he had consumed on that day. When the extra blood wore off, he would be as mortal as the rest of them. “You didn’t think much of me, did you? Coming here on an empty stomach.” She pushed the hair from his forehead, sighing. “What makes someone turn out like this? You had a grandmother, didn’t you? Did she not show you enough love? Or were you incapable of being loved?”

She stood up as her phone rang, quickly answering once she recognized the number. “Ah, deary. I was just thinking of you.”

“Hey, grandma. Where are you? You promised to read me a story.” Jack whined, her grandson waking up from his earlier nap before Marvis could return.

“Sorry, I needed to get some things from the store. I’ll be home in a few minutes. Do you need anything?”

“Um. Well…”

“Yes?”

“They kind of have these new hero trading cards.” He said, putting on his cutest tone as he tried to get her to buy him a packet.

“I’ll get you one. Since you’ve been so good lately.”

“YOU’RE THE BEST GRANDMA. I HOPE I GET PEACE WATCH.” He squealed. “Love you, grandma.”

“Love you too.” She hung up the call, thinking back to that name. “Peace Watch. What a sweet girl she was. Always so helpful too, the type of hero that used to do the little stuff. She even helped little old me cross the road when I wasn’t in disguise.” She took off her glasses, wiping her eyes. “And you stole her away from the world.” Any uneasy feelings faded when that memory resurfaced, giving him another glance before she collected her microphones and left the alley. Leaving a hero to find Vlad’s body in the morning.

Grabbing the cards and some items from the shop, she wondered how she was going to break the news about Peace Watches death to her grandson. The news hadn’t gone public yet, and she was worried it would break his heart when it got released. She would just have to be there for him when it happened. Paying for her items, she returned home, ready to read him his story.

[shiroi---kumo]

The prince was only twelve years old. The ritual of the Holy Blade was was only a few months away when Pilvi would turn thirteen at the beginning of the year. No one knew what was going to happen. No one knew if the Celestial Mother would truly accept the child or if he would die in the process. No one knew....

... and that was why they called him her sacrifice.

The child was terrified. How was he supposed to be anything else? He'd just made soul gems for his loved ones. Only a week ago had he given out gems of pure white crystal in varying forms of jewelry to the ones he cherished most.

One of those white gems hung around the neck of Aqua Sielu and it was clear in the vision of the elder musician as he spoke. An off the cuff comment that he snarled with an ego to match his pretentiousness.

"The lot of you were only ever part time help in the first place, but soon your oaths will expire and your help will no longer be needed. So the sooner you all come to terms with this, the easier it will be for all of you in the future."

There had only been a scream upon the sentence finishing and the elder of the musical pair was knocked to the ground from the force of the blow that stuck his face. There'd been no time to get up. Not when there was a body of blue on top of him as fast as lightning. One blow hadn't been enough and the elder could only do so much to try to get him off.

"SIELU!"

Came bellow from the other side of the hall. Several minutes of this had passed with violet eyes watching without doing anything but the sapphire knight was rushing to the air of her fellow bind, doing everything in her power to hold back the man of her same hue.

"Sielu calm down! Enough! Enough!" Safiirin sounded as she tried to hold the man back while another women of yellow came rushing onto the scene to help the musician of orange from the ground.

"Sinfonia! Sinfonia what happened?! Blessed be, your face. Come with me, we'll get you cleaned up."

"Kiitos, Vuorovesi." He managed to cough out as she helped him up and allowed her to lean into him so he could walk.

Safiirin wouldn't let go of her quarry until he fellow binds had left the scene.

"Sielu enough, you will tell me what happened right now!! Highness go with Vuorovesi!!" The knight of Sapphire glow wouldn't be taking no for an answer.

[holewithinahole]

Glorious Evolution | Viktor x gn!reader

Summary: You're slowly dying. That's what living in the Slums does to you. But there are rumours, rumours of a benevolent man with the ability to give back what life has taken from you. And you have nothing left to lose...

Warnings: not canon to Arcane, take elements from League's original lore, non-native writer, unchecked grammar

Yo, so, I was reading Viktor's lore and I wanted to write this little something. It roughly follows Viktor's original lore, I kinda left behind the whole dying/Hexcore thing, you can imagine what you want between Arcane and the time when Viktor comes back to Zaun after being expelled from Piltover's University.

I might write a sequel, who knows...

“If you are desperate, Viktor is the man you go to.”

Those are the murmured words in between the cracks into the depth of the City of Zaun. When illness seeps deep into your bones and you have nothing but death awaiting you, you start to frantically look for a fix, a simple minute added to your pitiful life.

No one cares about who you become in the Lanes. People die there every day. It’s common here in the Slums to see people disappear. Most think they’re dead, others know desperate measures equal desperate solutions.

And this solution is known as Viktor.

Viktor is a name either whispered in adoration or in fear. Sometimes disgust. Viktor is a synonym for either worship or blasphemy. Viktor is a new vision of progress. People never truly vanish because Viktor nurses them back to life and if they’re nothing like they were before, well at least they’re alive. Viktor, the solution seeker, the life bearer. Viktor will see you and offer you a new path.

Because, more importantly, Viktor is a synonym of acceptance.

You stand in front of his laboratory in Emberflit Alley: a shady looking building in a foggy narrow corridor. Creepy, even for Zaun. You expire the air you can’t even use correctly. Your lungs are now two burnt lumps, liquefied by chemicals and pollution and if you’re still standing now, it’s only because your other organs haven’t failed you yet.

Mentally, you're standing there because of this atrocious, gut-clenching hunger for life. It lashes at your throat, makes your muscles tremble and had you climb every step higher to the Entresol, run faster towards the most dubious solution. You have almost no reason to believe you won’t walk out of there alive, you somehow know you will.

Yet, you still don’t know what you’ll leave behind.

Two sharp knocks at his door and you hear an irregular clacking sound on metal.

The door opens on a tired face and two bright amber eyes. You stop breathing for a second. Despite all the talk around Viktor’s achievements, you somehow had never actually thought about the man before you.

His body is a shamble of mechanical parts and whirring energy. Everything about this incoherent puzzle of flesh and metal should repulse you but you’re from the Lanes and small are the things that can even scare you anymore.

He raises an eyebrow, the dim light of the alley casting blue hues in his hair and you completely forget about everything else.

“Enter, please.” He mumbles in a thick accent.

He turns his back and walks back to his working bench, leaning heavily on his old cane. You can’t help but notice the delicate work put into the object. It’s golden and dirtied by use, like its owner’s face.

“Your lungs I assume.”

You nod slowly, distracted by everything around you.

“You do know what will happen, right?” Viktor says, scratching down notes on an open notebook.

“Not exactly.” You breathe out.

“I’ll replace all your damaged parts with complex machinery of my own design.” Viktor stops writing to look at you. “That is if you agree with the procedure.”

“Either I agree or I die in a gutter.”

Viktor has a small snort. What a weird noise coming from him, too remote from his persona, too human. “I’ve always admired human resilience.” He admits after a short silence. “We always search for new ways to move forward, to evolve. Expand our life, even if there is nothing to go back to.”

You don’t know what to answer to that. Viktor asks: “Do you want to?”

“Will I end up looking like you?”

Viktor doesn’t even look bothered by the remark. “Depends on the severity of the damage. My condition was pretty advanced.”

“What happened?” You can’t help but ask.

“My leg--“ His mouth stays open but no sound comes out. Then, he sighs: “I was dying. As a citizen of Zaun, I knew I was doomed from an early age.” He looks at you knowingly. “But it happened quicker than I thought.

“You have to understand that I do not concern myself with the emotional impact the procedure will have on you. I believe it’d be better for you not to worry about ethical questions as well.”

“Who do you take me for, a topsider?” You snort. “Ethical questions are for the rich.”

The little laugh that leaves Viktor has you looking at him in surprise. “If he could hear you…” He mumbles to himself, slapping his notebook shut before tugging it underneath his arm. “Come.”

“Viktor?”

He stops on his track to look back at you. There is dread settling in your bones. It genuinely astonishes you that after all this time, all this profound resignation, you’re still so enslaved to basic emotions like fear. You want to run away but your logic begs you to stay, you watch Viktor more and more and your curiosity roots you down.

You have a million questions and you’re not sure you’ll remember them after… the evolution. But your body doesn’t have enough time to ask all of them anyway.

“...will it hurt?”

There’s a light in his eyes, a tremor on his lips and you can’t look away.

“I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

He extends his gloved hand towards you and you take it. It is flesh.

[imonlyamoth]

i was given a vision about the creators of the human race, they are not some figure residing in the clouds, but bipedal mammalian beings just like you and i, living in the beautiful swirl of colours in space.

their bodies towered over me, i had to crane my head to look into their faces. though they were humanoid in figure, they possessed no facial features, no belly buttons, ears, nipples, or genitalia. their bodies were transluscent, with sparks of multicolored lightning bursting inside of them all at once, like a jellyfish when squished beneath your foot on the beach at night.

though they didn't possess a mouth or ears, their ethereal voices were easily heard and they listened with intent and patience.

they are the creators of the human race, if they created other planets and stars and nebula, i do not know. when asked what they were called, one replied that they were called "epitheriats", a word i convinced was made up in my sleeping mind, but after doing research i found that it is the scientific name for mammals, so i knew then these were mammalian in make, somehow.

they turned me towards the earth and i saw it's eventual destruction, collapsing into a burning flame until nothing but ashes was left behind. i was struck with such terror, but they urged me to keep looking, and in its place i saw the earth rejuvinate, the cycle borne once again, beautiful greenery sprouting up from the endless oceans.

i learned that there is truly no such thing as an ending, all life, all energy simply recycles itself into other forms forever, much like ourselves. when our bodies expire, that which we call a soul is released, a perpetual energy that is capable of exploring the cosmos, though we may not be concious of it at first. without an anchor keeping us grounded, we're free to wander as we see fit until we wish to be born again, if at all.

i wandered the cosmos with these beings for eons, exploring planets i never thought possible, so many in our own star system we haven't found yet, and so many beyond, planets beyond counting. my fingers ran through the dust tails of comets and i held small meteorites in my hand, all teeming with microbes that would one day grow into much more.

i saw stars being born, then growing until their breaking point, collapsing into themselves when they burned too hot and created a dense gravitational pull when nothing but a black hole took up space where the star once was. i witnessed the dying of our own star, once so bright and beautiful it created a vast black void that drew planets into its wake to die as well.

as i explored, i came upon a long hallway of flickering vertical colours, colours that humans cannot percieve and i was awestruck. as i came closer to the colours, i saw that they were threads that when plucked like a harp string, would give me visions of a certain person on earth, their life played out before me, all the things they had done in their lives both bad and good, all the pathways they could have taken but never did. i spent many years simply watching them, but i never found my own, and i never finished watching all the billions of lives i could visit.

all my questions, of the vastness of the universe, the purpose of it and ourselves, who their own creators were, and they answered every single question in kind. they were gentle creatures, and though many would have been frightened of such otherworldly beings, i felt as if i were home, safe and sound in a loving parents arms.

i did not want to leave, but they told me to wake, and so i did, i awoke panting and sweating from the exhaustion of my journey through the dreamlike vision, and i tried desperately to copy down the answers to all of the questions i had asked.

as my pen touched paper, i felt a cramping in my mind and my hand trembled, i felt every piece of information, all the knowledges of the universe and its inhabitants fade from my memory, and it was then i realized, this human vessel i occupy cannot handle the vastness of the universe and all of it's secrets.

i can only hope that when my body expires, i will meet them again.

[danielxricciardo]

Can you do one with Max, with 46 and 55 from angst list?

Summary: You are suffering from depression and Max tries to be by your side

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of suicide, depression

Word count: 3.6k+

46. “I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

55. “You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay.”

Depression feels like a lot of things.

It feels like sadness, which is what everyone will tell you. It's a pretty common thread.

"I'm worthless."

"Everyone thinks I'm a horrible burden."

So on and so forth.

Everyone in the world is happy but you, and in the end, you are a worthless piece of shit that doesn't belong in this otherwise glorious and happy place. The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, and you are lying there on your bed in the same unlaundered pair of pajamas, wondering why you are even allowed to keep living any longer. Some meteor strikes or lightning bolts should be reserved for people like you because you are taking up space and oxygen and food and other resources that real, happy, productive people need.

It feels like emptiness. You have all these possibilities and none of them seem interesting. You could do some art, or play some music, but that just doesn't feel right. There's no joy in it. You could have sex with your significant other, but you can't muster up the desire. You could play video games, or read a book. But what's the point? There's no real benefit to all of it but passing the time. You could get up and make lunch. But no, you're not that hungry, and if you close your eyes, time will pass a little faster. You can lie there. That works. It doesn't require active effort to do something fruitless. Everything is as empty and fruitless as lying and staring out your window at the clouds and the shifting shadows of tree branches, and so why do anything else?

It feels like fatigue. Standing up out of your bed requires the same amount of bodily effort as climbing several flights of stairs. Managing to get dressed and walk outside is like running a race. Heaven helps you if you try to go to the store or a friend's house -- that may as well be on the other side of the continent. Every step is heavy. Every muscle motion requires ten times the work it used to. Exercise becomes difficult, and control over your body expires quickly. You become clumsier, so heavy lifting is right out. You daze out randomly, daydreaming, even dozing, so biking or running is hard. You feel most at home when you are entirely relaxed, so you lie down...and don't get up again until something like your bladder compels you.

It feels like a loss of control. You have no idea why your brain and body are doing this. You don't want to feel sad. Nobody wants to feel shitty and tired and empty all the time. People will look at you and say, "It's like you don't want to get better." Those people are idiots. You truly, deeply, from the bottom of your soul, have no idea why this has happened or what to do. It's not logical. It makes no sense. You woke up like this, or it crept in overtime or something like that. It's like a fog, a force of nature that sweeps in, occludes everything, and there's not one thing you can do about it from where you stand. Trying feels like taking a paper fan outside and trying to blow away the morning mist. Someone has tied puppet strings to your brain and is playing this hideous dance with it, and you don't have the scissors to cut them away. The dance doesn't make sense; it's arbitrary and rhythmless. If you had any sort of reasoning behind it, you could take control. But you don't.

It feels like desperation. You can't find a way out. You lie there at night, keening into your pillow like a wounded animal, making all sorts of noises that no human being should be able to make. You claw and scratch at the sheets, or at yourself, as the pain wrings itself out through bodily expression. The tears won't stop. You don't know why. All you know is that it hurts, it really and truly hurts, and you think if it goes on any longer, you're going to die. Right there. Bleed out on the floor. So you grab up your phone, and you call someone at 4 AM, and you beg them to please just make it stop. You bury yourself in books and movies because at least then you can imagine something else than yourself. You read nonstop. You have to have your fix. It's like an addiction, no, more like a life support machine. Otherworlds, fantasies of happiness, and real experiences that aren't your horrible existence become the iron lung keeping air flowing in and out. You are alive because you can stop thinking for a while. Your friends come over to comfort you. Their stories keep you sane and well, like dialysis for all the toxins in you. Your mind has failed at being independent, and now it relies on a thousand little machines to keep itself running. You rely on one machine until another comes to save you. You read books until your friends come by. You stretch out your time with friends until you have to bury yourself in a movie again just to keep the thought of real-life away.

It feels like untamed anger. Your friends can't keep this up forever. You fall further and further, and you eventually start dropping commitments. You have become That Person, the flake that everyone knows will back out. People start getting annoyed at you, annoyed at how they have to spend so much time just keeping you afloat, annoyed at how often you're causing them trouble by constantly disappearing and backing out of appointments, and so on. Your workplace gets annoyed at your lack of productivity. And then you can't take it anymore, and you want to scream at them, grab them by the throat and shake them because IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT! You start having twisted fantasies, the ones where you walk up to that person who keeps telling you he can't do this anymore, you're just too unreliable, putting a gun to your head and pulling the trigger. Just to make him know, for once, that FUCK HIM, your problems are REAL, DAMMIT, REAL, and he better FUCKING RESPECT that. And when you're gone, he'll fall to his knees and cry, and he'll say, he wishes he had understood, that he didn't mean to be so unkind, and the scar on his heart from his own failure will remain fresh and knotted for eternity. And then you shake yourself out of the daydream, and you wonder why you have turned into such a horrible person, someone who even considers ending their own life just to spite another human being. Then it creeps back in, the knowledge that the world is getting fed up with you...and the cycle begins again. You start thriving off these daydreams, because at the very least if you can't be happy, you can throw caution to the wind and get the petty, oddly satisfying revenge buried under all those layers of morality that are becoming worn and flaking away. It's just a fantasy, right? And it helps pass the time...

It feels like forever. You have forgotten what it's like to truly be joyful. You can imagine it, but it's not really you in those thoughts. This is who you are. This is your life. This is you.

It feels like you have only one thing truly under your power: your existence. You cannot choose what life throws at you. Your brain and body have betrayed you. Your friends have worn away, and you've fled from your job and any commitments you have.

It feels empowering. You can jump whenever you want.

But he accepted you the way you are. He never reproached you for negatively influencing his mentality or life, even though you knew he felt it too. He always listened to you, he was with you even at 2 in the morning when you were crying on the bathroom floor with your knees to your chest, and you knew it wasn't right. It wasn't right for him to go through, basically, what you were going through. But no matter how much you told him you could do it without his help, Max was coming back more insistently than ever.

He came up with the idea to start therapy. "You have to find out why you feel this way. Go at least once, see how it is, if you don't like it or feel that it doesn't help you, you will give up, okay?" That was a year and a half ago.

The psychologist gave you a diagnosis from the first session: Major Depressive Disorder. Sure you knew what the three words meant, but you didn't know what it meant to have a label on your condition.

"A major depressive disorder is characterized by one or more of these depressive episodes. the diagnosis of major depressive disorder requires depressed mood or anhedonia which is the loss of interest in pleasure and five or more signs or symptoms for the SIGECAPS mnemonic for a 2-week period. (SIGECAPS) Sleep Disturbance, loss of Interest, feeling Guilty, feeling fatigued and low in Energy, having decreased Concentration, decreased or increased Appetite and been agitated and slow and having Suicidal ideation."

It sounds incredible to you. Suicidal thoughts? Not everyone has a thought, somewhere, behind their mind 'What if I disappeared?'

You were prescribed Prozac and Zoloft and it helped. You weren't always sad anymore, you could go to the races with Max and support him as a normal girlfriend does. You apologized to my friends who tried to help me and whose lives you made impossible and you managed to get back to work, from home anyway. Sure, you still had moments when you felt like you weren't 100% yourself but not like before. You did therapy twice a week and the psychologist was happy with your evolution.

But being the stupid ass that you are, you stopped taking the medication. You took the last pill on Friday. Because you were fine. You felt ok, everyone around you told you you were better, you were doing amazing, so you were cured, right? Or so you thought. Saturday was normal. Sunday was not. Your mood and energy were very low. You woke up at like 2 in the afternoon. That is not unusual for you. You’re used to it. You were sad. You were exhausted. You knew that feeling like this was “no excuse” so you tried to force yourself to do it anyway. Typical of your life. You feel like you had already taken so much off work because of the triple-header, you were for three weeks attached to the hips with Max.

The only thing you thought of was dying. And that terrified you. And Max senses something was wrong. But he didn't want to tell something and ending up being wrong and you being upset by his misinterpretation. But, yes, he sensed that you were becoming your old self.

"Hey, babe," he snapped you out of your daydreaming. A tragic one, where you were finally at peace and Max was crying for you. You were on the verge of crying yourself at the mere image of Max in your head. But you pushed it far from your mind, somewhere in a dark corner for you to find it at an appropriate time to fantasize about your dying. "How about we go to a picnic? It's sunny outside."

Yes, the wheater was amazing. It was finally summer and you could go outside and spend some time with Max. But your brain literally is tricking you into thinking you don't deserve to enjoy the sunny day. Why? You don't have an answer.

"I'm not really in the mood, Max. Sorry."

You are not in the mood. That was his affirmation. You are not ok.

"You feeling good?"

"Yeah. Just tired I guess."

"But you just woke up."

You shrugged. He was right. You just woke up, so why do you feel like you were carrying a ton of bricks on your shoulders? You couldn't walk. You almost felt like 18 months ago. And that is when it hit you. And Max, at the same time.

"Still taking your meds, I hope."

Silence. Your mind was like overcrowded and you couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed your head and pulled your hair because you wanted it to stop. You were thinking that you didn’t know what to think. You didn’t know how to think. You didn’t know how you felt. You were like anxious-depressed-angry-miserable-irritable all in one. Your head was spinning with thoughts. Thoughts were talking over thoughts. So fast that you couldn’t even make out one complete sentence. It was just too much for you to handle. You just wanted someone to kill you.

Max came to you and he hugged you so hard you thought he could crush your bones right there and then. You calmed down eventually. But now you were embarrassed. Because Max saw you, again, at your lowest. Because you promised you'll get better, and for a while, you were better, but now you are fucked and back into square one. All those money on therapy and your pills, for what? For you to stop taking them because you thought you were feeling better? Well, you definitely were not ok, nor you'll be. So, yeah, being fucked sounded good.

Max brought you the medicine and a glass of water. Taking the pills again? For what? The pills only fuel the feeling that everything is fine and that you are a normal person. Nothing was good and you were not a normal person.

But you took the pills. And you looked Max in the eyes and you wanted to die. He seemed crushed. He was sad, devastated, maybe angry but definitely disappointed. In you. Because maybe you don't realize this, but while you were doing good, he was doing great. He knew you could be on your own so he stopped worrying that much, and that could also be seen in his driving. He was winning more races, he was at his best and now he was at his lowest. Because you were at your lowest; co-dependency and shit.

"I'm sorry, baby. I thought I was doing well enough to stop taking the meds," you say in a broken voice but the tears are yet to appear. He stroked your hair and kissed you on your forehead.

"You should have told me. You don't have to go thru this alone. I am here."

"Yeah, you are here. But you don't have to be!" you snapped. Irritability, one thing your depression came with. "I am just a burden for you. And no, this does not come from the fact I stopped taking my pills. You took care of me like I was a child, and, fuck it, you don't deserve this."

"Stop talking like this, alright? If I would suffer from depression you would have done the same thing. You would have taken care of me. Or am I wrong?"

"You are not wrong. To be honest, I don't think I would be here if it wasn't for you, but I don't want you to be. It's obvious that I would never get better. This is me. I am fucked in the head, half wishing I was dead and I am just bringing you down."

"Don't tell me this is a fucking break up, Y/N." he narrows his brows and looks at your features to make sure you were being serious.

“I’ll leave, and the world will move on. I just wish I could see it. See how much better everything is when I’m gone.”

"What the fuck are you talking about? Is this a break-up or a suicidal vocal note?"

You broke down. Crying can be cathartic and healthy, but if it goes on too long it can lock your body in a feeling of despair. Even if your mind works through the problem that caused the crying, because your body is still feeling the physical effects it will cause your mind to revert to the negative state. It's not sadness. It's dread and paralysis. You had a certain feeling of emptiness and purposelessness.

“You’re good at finding things. Find me a reason to stay,” you say between sobs.

"You want me to find you a reason to stay alive or to stay in this relationship? To be frank, I can name a thousand reasons, but it all depends on you."

Max hugs you from behind and you lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat that was stronger than ever. You allowed yourself to inhale Max's scent, a soothing scent you could get drunk on.

"I want to believe you love me. I mean, I love you and I consider you the love of my life, you know? We are so young and I know it doesn't feel like it, but I promise you, I'm gonna marry you someday, even if right now you don't think you're gonna make it till tomorrow. So, yeah, this is reason number one," he said and pressed a kiss to your cheek. "This is not the worst you have been through in life. Remember where you were 18 months ago; you had no idea what was wrong with you. Now you know and you know you can be better. I know you get sick of those pills, but maybe, in the future, you won't need them. Isn't that exciting? This was reason number two," he said and pressed another kiss to your cheek. He was going to do that every time he would give you a reason. "Have you been to all the beautiful places around the world? Sure, you came to a few Grand Prix, but you never saw Great Ocean Road in Australia, you know Daniel promised he would take us there someday. You never saw Pamukkale in Turkey or Japan in Cherry Blossom season or the Blue Lagoon in Iceland. There are many places you need to visit, baby. So, yeah, this was reason number three. I don't know if you want me to continue but I can give you one more reason. Reason number four. Do it for you, baby. You deserve to live and be happy. I know you can be happy and I promise you I will do my best to help you. You just have to take it one step at a time. You just have to let me in. Let me help you, baby."

You turn around, facing him now. You loved him, with all of your heart. You love him for who he is. You love him because he literally came into your life as your lifeline. You love him because he helped you crawl up the deep bottomless abyss of depression. You love him because he had the patience and the audacity to bear with your depression, anxiety, and panic attacks, your phobias, your mood swings, your temperamental and short-tempered nature, your overthinking, your being overprotectiveness, and possessiveness. You love him because never once he thought of giving up on you in your hard times. You love him because he stands by you like a rock of unwavering support and he’s someone you can fall back on. You love him because he listens to you talking non-stop about your past, your pains, your fears, and your losses without complaining even once. You love him because he rediscovered you and helped you find yourself again when you were lost in darkness. You love him because he filled you with confidence and hope and strength and belief and determination. You love him because he believes you are the best when you set your mind on something and no one can stop you from achieving your goals. You love him because he is protective, caring, understanding, loving, and easy to be with while never being too suffocating or taking up your space. You love him because sooner or later he does everything you ask of him and does with his whole attention. You love him because whatever endeavor he engages in, he likes to give his 100% and hates doing half-hearted things. You love him because he can decode the nuances in your voice and judge your mood just perfectly. You love him because he read you like an open book and he can hear your silence. You love him because he never doubts your loyalty, your intentions, your hard work, and your million issues. You love him because no matter how busy he might get he never forgets that you are waiting for his message or his call. You love him because he keeps you in his priorities. You love him because he gave you a passion you never knew you had. You love him because he very strongly believes that you deserve the best of everything. You love him because he is empathic, kind, magnanimous, thoughtful, and down to Earth. You love him because he has eyes for no one but you. You love him because he wants to see you healthy, wealthy, prosperous, famous and he wants you to hold back at nothing, for no one, he wants you to be a Go-Getter. And most importantly you love him because no one ever loved you like he did.

"I will let you in," you say and you kiss him hard. "I'm sorry for the scene I caused."

"Don't be. It happens."

[hyunverse]

NUMBERS (WE ONLY HAVE 32 DAYS LEFT) ☆ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI.

CHAPTER ONE : YOU, ME AND OUR BURDENS.

gender neutral.

warnings: talk of death(s).

tags: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort.

beta readers: @milktyama , @boytual , @inusdoll .

synopsis: life isn’t easy when you’re gifted with the ability to see how much time is left for your loved ones to live. what makes matters worse is the fact that luck was and will never be on fushiguro megumi’s side.

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Megumi didn’t ask for this at all.

He didn’t ask to see how much time was left for a person to live. Deadly digits at the top of his loved ones’ heads. He didn’t ask to see the death timer, continuously ticking as a body gets old, waiting for its expiration date. A constant reminder of death.

“Don’t fall for me, Fushiguro,” you joked one time. He was sitting beside you by a lake one evening as the sun sets.

“I would never,” he replied.

How he wished that was the case. Day by day he was captivated by your personality. He spent every waking day finding out new things about you that he couldn’t help but admire. Megumi truly didn’t see it coming at all. After all, he had vowed to keep his distance from people. He thought he was doing a good job at keeping his vow. He will never forget that time he was acquainted with two people his same age, named Kugisaki Nobara and Itadori Yuuji. It started with the trio being in the same college course, becoming friends over the times. Megumi thought it’d be okay. He thought it wouldn't hurt to see the pair die, in case it actually happened.

Until it did.

Megumi still remembers that day very clearly. He had anticipated the 15th of February for months. He told both Nobara and Itadori to stay in their shared home all day in hopes of changing their fates. They followed what he advised despite the obvious paranoia in Megumi’s tone. Itadori told Megumi to calm down on call, reassured Megumi that Nobara and he were safe in their house—happily eating sushi and binging movies. Megumi thought it would be okay. What could possibly happen to a pair of best friends staying in the privacy of their apartment?

They died in a house fire.

The raven head couldn’t sleep for days. All his college assignments were left overdue, red-inked digits filling up his report card. Megumi didn’t care. The Zenin clan was flooded with money anyway. Starting from that day Fushiguro vowed to not get close to anybody. The numbers only appear once he feels affection towards the person. He’ll be fine if he just kept his distance. Spending the rest of his life all alone. He wouldn’t mind that at all. Fewer problems.

What Fushiguro Megumi failed to remember was the heart wants what it wants. He could completely ignore his feelings but it wouldn’t stop his heart to feel. What Fushiguro Megumi forgot was the fact that he was human, and being human meant feeling things.

A looming wall was set between him and other people. A hard, cemented wall—Megumi was positive nobody would get through and touch his vulnerability. You had the toughness of steel. You completely ignored how disinterested he seemed. Constantly teasing and caring for him—it was only a matter of time until his wall crumbled.

You also had the tenderness of silk. Soft fingers combing his hair as the two of you laid on his roof. There were no stars in the sky, but you insisted on laying amidst the darkness of night.

“Megumi,” you whispered, turning to look at the man, “you’re so hard to get through yet so easy to read.”

Fushiguro could already feel the sturdy wall he built shattering like the thinnest glass.

“You’re talking nonsense.”

He was avoiding the question, which was exactly the reaction you expected from him.

You chuckled, “you do know it’s okay to open up and set yourself free, right?”

Free.

Before you could think of anything else to say, tears slipped down Megumi’s cheeks. His vision and thoughts blurred together until all he could think and feel was how much his heart ached. He began to wonder if he had always felt that way. If he had been ignoring his heart’s screams all this time.

You carefully inched closer to your co-worker, painfully aware of all his reactions. God knows what possessed you to do what you did, but you gently cradled his face in your hands. The feeling of your thumb pads rubbing against his skin managed to soothe him. Seeing no negative reaction, you brought yourself to move closer towards his trembling body. You held him in your arms.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,“ you whispered. Your lips ghosted over the shell of his ear, and he could feel the heat of your body.

He nodded between his cries and let you cradle him like nobody else was watching. He let you whisper sweet nothings into his ear. Fushiguro Megumi allowed himself to believe in your sweet words, he allowed himself to feel as if everything was fine.

A tingling feeling appeared in Megumi’s stomach. He clutched his heart. It was happening again. The numbers appeared again. He gathered his courage to look up, at the top of your head.

His heart dropped.

70 years, 2 months, 12 days.

For the first time since he learned about his ability, after outliving both his parents, his sister and his best friends-- Megumi wasn’t going to outlive another loved one.

The gush of relief Megumi was feeling caused him to cry even more. Under the half moon, he sobbed into your chest ‘till his tears were dry.

“Megs, look,” you tilted his head upwards to look at you. You shot him a reassuring smile and rubbed his shoulders.

You pretended to pick something up from Fushiguro’s shoulder and placed the nothingness on your own shoulders. Megumi sniffled and furrowed his eyebrows. You did it over and over again, your patience was starting to wear off.

“This, what is this you’re carrying on your shoulder?” you asked, continuing the action again, but slowly.

“Air?”

“No! Try again,” you acted the scene out slower. Rub his shoulders, pretend to pick something up then place them on your shoulders. “What are you carrying on your shoulders, Megumi?”

The 24-year-old man’s face contorted into confusion, “um-- shoulder ache?”

You grunted, “no! Ugh… burdens, Megumi! Burdens!”

His face grew even more confused, to the point where he was tilting his head, eyeing you curiously.

“Your burdens,” you picked the non-existent materials from Megumi’s shoulders, placing them on top of your own shoulders, “I picked some of your burdens and placed them on me. So, it becomes our burdens. Not just yours. We carry them together.”

Fushiguro Megumi was astounded.

“Our burdens?” he repeated, his hands trailing their way up to your arms, lightly squeezing them.

“Our burdens, Megumi.”

He looked down and mumbled the words quietly. Repeatedly. Like a teenager continuously reciting their formulas to register and implant them in their head. The more he said the words, the more he felt like bursting into tears for the third time that night.

Finally, he took a deep breath, nodding to himself before looking back up to you;

“Our burdens.”

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[abbacchiosbelt]

If It Bleeds | Yandere Mahito x GN Reader

CW: Yandere character, guns, manipulative behavior, mild not sfw content. 18+.

Word Count: 2.1k

The air in your house hadn’t felt the same since he’d wormed in his way inside - his disgusting aura clung to the walls like poison, inescapable and silently killing you. It’s nearly unbearable when he’s there himself, grinning as he watches your every move. Hiding is impossible from someone like him. He can slip through every crack, move through every wall. And so you’re stuck with him until he decides he’s had enough of you, the expiration date on your life ticking down day by day.

It’s all a game for Mahito. 

Today, you’re awoken by the sound of his voice calling out your name, sing-songy and taunting. There’s no point in ignoring him - if you did, he’d drag you out of bed himself. Or worse, he’d climb under the sheets and wrap his unnaturally cold body around you, laughing all the while at your discomfort. With a quiet groan, you push the sheets off yourself and climb out of bed. Mahito calls out again, an edge of irritation in his voice.

“Coming,” you call back, stifling a yawn as you slide your feet into slippers and make your way out of your room. As you expected, he’s sitting at your small kitchen table. His long, blue hair is still tied into a loose braid that he’d forced you to do the night before. The soft groans he’d made as you brushed his hair and carefully threaded it into a braid were burned into your subconscious, the slight tinge in your lower stomach they awakened making you feel disgusted. It was one of the few things in your ‘relationship’ with Mahito that had seemingly gone unnoticed by the cursed spirit, though you’re sure he’d bring it up to taunt you at some point.

Mahito’s black shirt slides off his shoulder when he raises a hand in greeting to you like he was a friend who had just popped in. The strange smell that followed him — cloyingly sweet with the scent of rot under the surface — invades your nostrils the second you sit down in the seat beside him. Mahito leans forward and smiles, one of his hands coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. You shudder at his chilling touch, and he sighs.

“Humans are so touchy. You should be used to that by now, you know?” He rolls his eyes and sits back, staring at you for a moment before his eyes light up. “I’ve got something that’ll cheer you up. I’ve been doing some research.” Mahito leans to the side and drags a bag (one of yours, you note with annoyance) onto the table, unzipping the top. “Go ahead, pull out your surprise.”

A surprise.

You blanche, giving him a wary look. He laughs, his expression mirthful. “Ah, you don’t trust me, do you? Fine, fine. I’ll get it out for you.” Mahito reaches his hand in the bag and wastes no time pulling out your ‘surprise’, his lips curling into a sadistic smirk as he points the object at you. A silver, shiny gun is pointed straight at the middle of your forehead, the entity behind the trigger unpredictable. 

You scramble out of the chair and Mahito is on top of you before you can run, his legs wrapped around your hips as he smiles down at you with the gun still in his hand. “You’re scared? You think someone like me would kill you with something as boring as this?” Mahito laughs, tilting his head towards the ceiling as he cackles. His mouth splits into an unnaturally wide grin when he finally looks back down at you. “I told you this was a present. I read something about what humans do for fun and thought I could give you a chance to play for once. This relationship is uneven, after all.”

Mahito doesn’t move from his position on top of you, even as you struggle with your full strength. The fact that he doesn’t even budge sends a wave of panic to your heart, the organ pounding against your chest so loud that you can’t even hear yourself think.

“M-mahito, let me up,” You grunt. Mahito tilts his head to one side, the hand he was using to hold the gun going limp as he carelessly waves it around. Your eyes widen in fear. “Please...”

Mahito considers you for a moment before he gingerly gets up, placing the gun back on the kitchen table. “Only since you asked so nicely. If all humans had manners like you, I wouldn’t exist.” He sticks his tongue out at you, the motion childish. “Good thing they don’t! Now get up.”

You get back on your feet and Mahito points to the seat you were in earlier, indicating for you to sit down. You follow him, not wanting to be tackled to the ground again. Mahito sits back down in his chair as well, sliding the gun across the table to you. “Pick it up.”

The weapon’s sleek casing shines in the light of the sun starting to trail through your kitchen window. You swallow. “I’ve never... touched one of these before.”

“That’s okay.” Mahito licks his lips. “There’s a first time for everything, right? Humans love that saying.” He nudges the gun closer. “I do too. There’s so much to do in your world, yet you humans don’t spend enough time indulging yourselves. I’m giving you a chance.”

You have no idea what exactly he’s going to ask you to do; Mahito was unpredictable and dangerous, just like every cursed spirit you’d heard rumors of. You never truly believed that you’d encounter one, and yet here you were with one sitting in your kitchen like he was an old friend. Mahito raises his eyebrows at your silence and you finally reach forward to pick up the gun.

The heaviness of the weapon surprises you. You tilt it this way and that, minding to point it away from Mahito even though he hadn’t given you the same courtesy. You knew little about guns except for the cardinal rule of never pointing a gun at anything you weren’t planning on shooting. You lips start to feel dry as anxiety sets into your bones as if you knew the weapon had been used before as a killing tool. Of course Mahito would give you something that had been used to take lives - it’s likely he had given it to other humans he’d played with before. Bile rises in your throat and you swallow it back. Mahito watches your discomfort with lidded eyes, entranced. 

“Don’t you want to know what I want you to do with it?” Mahito scoots his chair closer to yours. Without warning, he tugs your chair close so that the two of you are sitting knee to knee. Mahito leans in. “Press it to my forehead.”

“What?” You balk at his words. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about trying to get rid of him, but it was fruitless. A fantasy. Was he really going to let you kill him? No, there was no way... He was playing at something. Just another one of his sick games. He frowns at your hesitation and suddenly grabs your arms until he forcibly presses the gun against his forehead, ignoring how your hands were shaking. The frown on his face is immediately replaced with a smile once the cool metal is resting against his forehead.

“Now, now” he croons, his voice sounding much more affected than you’d ever heard it. It disgusts you - he’s getting off on this. “Put your finger on the trigger.” This time, Mahito is patient as he watches you struggle with the action, letting it slide when he notices you’re resting your finger against the side instead of curling it around the trigger. “We’re going to play a game.”

“A... a game?” You stutter. Your arms already feel heavy from the weapon, yet you know if you let them down you’ll be in for something even worse. He holds his hands, five fingers raised on his right hand and only one finger on his left. When you keep looking at him in confusion, he sighs and purses his lips before he starts explaining.

“Jeez, you really are innocent when it comes to guns, huh? Well, this makes it more fun.” He waves his fingers around. “This gun has six chambers, but only one bullet. I found out about it when I was researching guns. It’s fun and deadly, which means humans never want to play it.” He rolls his eyes. “But we can! It’s called Russian Roulette. Even if you shoot me, I won’t die.” Mahito practically pants as he speaks, and you don’t notice the way he shifts his legs. 

“But... What if you did die? Then what?” You ask. Mahito smiles at you, patronizing. 

“I won’t. But if you don’t play, I’ll play it instead. Your chances aren’t very good, wouldn’t you say?” Mahito’s lips turn down. “But I’d hate to do that so soon. You are my favorite plaything, after all.” Your heart seizes up in your chest as his words hit you - if you didn’t play along with him, he’d kill you. There was no other option. Even if he secretly planned on punishing you for playing, not playing would mean dying. What hit you harder was Mahito calling you his ‘favorite plaything’, the words making your stomach twist. There was truly no escape. You resign yourself to your fate.

“I... Okay, i-if you really want to play.” Mahito purrs out your name when he hears your response. That small, unwanted feeling in your stomach flares to life at his words. What was wrong with you? Being around the cursed spirit was eating at your psyche day by day. Mahito must have planned for it all along, forcing you to fall apart while he toyed with you. Suddenly, the game sounds like a good idea. 

Mahito notices the change in your mood and his legs shift again, his grin nearly splitting apart his face. “Mmm, now we’re ready to play. I got the gun ready. We’re taking one shot today.” He bites his lip. “We can try more shots once you’ve got some practice in.” Mahito presses harder against the gun, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “Pull it.”

Your finger shakes as you curl it around the gun’s trigger, putting no pressure on it yet. Mahito watches you with unrestrained glee. Without time to really think about it, you press down on the trigger and clench your eyes shut. 

A click, and nothing else. Mahito laughs, and you reluctantly open your eyes. Your drop your arms in exhaustion and let the gun clatter to the floor, not caring about the danger. Mahito is practically howling with laughter as he watches you, his eyes boring holes into you as he watches you let out the breath you were holding. You sit and stare past him until his laughter fades out, your heart pounding in your chest.

He stands from his chair and drags you up against his body, groaning in delight. There’s a hardness against your thigh, wet and leaking, that you don’t want to think about. Mahito grabs your chin with his hands, forcing you to look at him as one of his arms keeps you pressed close to his body.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it? It’s too bad you lost, but I’m glad we had this experience together.” His breath fans against your face and you wince, the smell having no descriptor that would be fitting other than death. Mahito holds you for a few more seconds before he steps back, a lopsided too-big smile on his face. “See how much fun it is when you’re allowed to indulge yourself?”

Mahito ignores your blank expression, stretching his arms above his head as he peers out one of your windows. “I’d love to play some more, but I’ve got some things to take care of today.” He takes a step toward you, and you step back. He advances until he has you pushed against a wall. “You should be nicer to me. I’ve been generous towards you.” 

Mahito leans in and presses a chaste kiss against your cheek, laughing at the startled look on your face. “We took a new step in our relationship today. I had to make sure you knew how much it means to me.” He abruptly steps away and starts to fade before your eyes, waving as his form shudders out of this dimension. “I decided something,” his voice whispers, directly against your ear. You can no longer see him, but you can feel an overwhelming presence surrounding your body.

“I think I’ll be keeping you around for a long, long time.”