#so I can only think that they were doing this deliberately; sure nothing concrete was ever said or done like. At All

[neganium]

That is most likely all I'll be posting about the new DetCo movie, just btw, bc it was simply so appalling. The person I reblogged it from compared it to the Luke-Leia situation but for over 20 years and they ain't wrong! The worst part is that the two series weren't even supposed to be connected; iirc Gosho once described them like alternate universes of each other, p much. I don't know if that's still a thing, tho, bc they have direct canonical crossovers, and also, Kaito's motives would be pretty hard to explain away otherwise.

The second, slightly less worse but still bad part, is that I haven't actually seen any of the movies at all since movie 23, bc good subs for movie 24 simply Do Not Exist yet. It's been years and I don't think that there is going to be any good subs for that one, at this rate; it's too old for people to bother with, and that's upsetting to me bc I've been waiting a long time to watch any of the others after that one bc I could not see this one. hh.

Third, highly trivial part (in the grand scheme of things): I actually was a bit fond of that ship. Okay bye.

[the-archivists-plus-one]

Gonna let out some thoughts about how I think Scout feels about Spy being his dad once he finds out :)

When Scout was younger, he’d definitely rag on his deadbeat of a dad. I can totally see him doing so, as why wouldn’t he? The dude left his Ma’ to take care of 8 boys by herself, one of which was his by blood, which was a shitty move no matter who you asked.

But this became more difficult once he grew up and learned exactly who his dad was.

The thing that made it easier when he was younger was that when he was a teen, there was no face to pair with the resentment he felt. He couldn’t actually place a human being in that place with complicated morals and emotions, it was just some guy he knew was a piece of shit for leaving. And all was fine like that, he didn’t think about it.

And when he DID have a face to put there? When he DID have a person he knew with all the human attributes he never associated with his dad, with all the complications and complexities? It just made him conflicted, with all too many different emotions and thoughts.

When he finds out Spy’s his dad, he’s forced to think of more than just an idea of a person. He’s forced to see his dad as something- SOMEONE three dimensional, something real. It can’t just be someone he could condemn without a second thought, someone that would’ve done what they would’ve done no matter the situation. It has to now be the guy he knows is much more complex than that, and who he knows always has reasons for doing things, no matter if Scout knows them or not. He’s deliberate with what he does. Always.

So, what would make his disappearance any different?

..Could Scout have been the main reason he had left?

Now, Scout can’t just think of his dad and blame him for everything, for making his own shitty decisions. No, because he knows this guy now, and doubts have been forever planted in his mind.

He’s forced to think more about it. He can’t just let it all be black and white, good and bad, because nothing ever is. The only problem with his realization of this is that Scout is never good when it comes to thinking more.

Because that leads him to overthinking.

Thinking that he is and always will be a failure, a disappointment in his father’s eyes. Thinking that his mom and Spy were truly in love, and Scout had messed it up and led him to leave.

The blame was no longer only on his dad. It couldn’t be. Not anymore.

The resentment he felt couldn’t fully be placed on him anymore. It felt wrong. So much of it was now focused on himself now, and there was nothing he could do to convince himself it should be any different.

Because of this all, he couldn’t fully bring himself to hate Spy. It’d hurt too much. He wanted to punch his face in, so badly, but he couldn’t ever bring himself to do anything even close.

And what the hell did that make him? A coward who couldn’t handle his own emotions? A guy who was just as bad and therefore couldn’t do shit against the man he was supposed to despise?

All of his brothers had such firm beliefs of the guy. All of them would be willing to give him hell and back, whether through the form of physical harm or words, for what he’s done. No one messes with their Ma’.

So here he was, in the middle of his family and Spy, unable to form a concrete opinion on the matter besides how much he hated it. And how much he hated himself.

And surely, he wasn’t alone in that sentiment. At the very least, that’s what Scout believed. It only seemed right. It only seemed fair.

Of course, all of this is internalized within Scout. And it’ll keep going like that until he finally breaks.

And what’ll happen then? Well, I’ll let you decide.

[ca-8]

Yakko x Reader Scenario: When You First Meet

'This is it. The beginning of the end.' 

Gripping on the straps of her backpack, (Y/n) exited the bus and stared up at the water tower that displayed the famous Warner Bros. logo. As expected, it emitted a smug aura onto the entire area; however, surprisingly, there was a slight twinge of mystery to it as well. But she didn't have time to ponder about it, so she only gave it an uneasy look and headed straight for the entrance.

Her heart stopped. She knew the place was going to be busy, but it was like an entire New York City packed in one section! So many writers, producers, actors, large men carrying heavy sets, every type of person working in film was scattered all over the place. It was like an ocean, with the people as marine life doing what they're designed to do, and (Y/n) being the puppy that was abandoned at sea.

The moment it all settled in, an involuntary realization invaded her thoughts. 'I don't belong here.'

The young girl reminded herself to breathe and rushed over to a vacant wall, then pulled out her phone. She had already sent her mother about a thousand messages telling her she was here, but since she hasn't responded, a few more shouldn't hurt. Fingers rapidly typing away, she bit her lower lip, already wishing she had stayed on that bus. 

"Oh, you're just gonna love it!" Her mother's squealing voice had already filled her skull. "You're so talented, I know you're gonna fit right in."

'Yeah, standing around all day with a bunch of people I don't know while doing something I suck at is exactly how I wanna spend my summer.' She let out a soft sigh. 'It's fine. Just shut up and make her happy, (Y/n).'

Several attempts of calling and texting later, no response. (Y/n) sighed again, and her eyes wandered over to the bustling crowd. 'No way. Absolutely no way.' But if she wanted to get the day over with, absolutely yes way.

First, she walked up to a lady looking down at the clipboard in her hands. "Um, excuse me," (Y/n) said. 

The lady's head snatched up. "KYLE!" she yelled, her eyes now ablaze with fury, "YOU IDIOT! THAT GOES IN THE WAREHOUSE ACROSS THE STUDIO!" And like there was nothing but a breeze behind her, the lady stomped off to the poor soul that had to face her wrath.

The breeze took a step back and ran around the corner. 'Maybe I'll find someone else instead…!' (Y/n) stopped and spotted a man sitting on the steps that lead to the entrance of a small building. She swallowed whatever was left in her mouth and reluctantly approached him. 

"E-Excuse me, sir?" she stuttered, hoping her voice was louder than the last time. As she got closer, (Y/n) noticed he was chuckling, and his gaze was glued onto a small piece of paper. 

"I...I did it…!" he said. She yelped and shrinked back when he suddenly jumped to his feet. "I FINALLY DID IT! WE'LL SEE WHO'S REGRETTING THE DIVORCE NOW, MARGARET!" And with a manic laugh, the man dashed into the building. 

'...Or maybe I'll just find it myself.'

It wasn't too long before (Y/n) got herself lost. Despite the help of maps that were stuck to some of the buildings, all of them seemed exactly the same. It was like a maze, and with each passing minute, she was more and more convinced that there was no finish line. Even worse, her mother was too busy to respond to anything she sent her. 

'Oh, what should I do?' (Y/n) thought for the thousandth time. No matter how hard she pinched or held them, her arms refused to stop trembling. Not too long ago, the outside of the studio became deserted and she'd hate to walk in a warehouse and possibly interrupt something important, so asking for help again was out of the question.

...Or, perhaps it wasn't. 

A tiny, hopeful smile crossed (Y/n)'s face when she heard the sounds of frustrated grunts around the corner. It was the first time she was so relieved to see a stranger. 

And thank god that stranger was a security guard. Though she wondered why he had a giant net in his hand, she shoved the curiosity as far in the back of her mind as she could and reached up to gently tap his shoulder. 

"Um, excuse me sir?" she asked as loud as she could. 

His head whipped around, revealing angry eyes and a scowl that said he was ready to kill. But right as his gaze landed on her, it changed within an instant. 

"Oh, hello!" he said with a bright smile. 

(Y/n) blinked, cocking her head. ‘What was this guy up to?’

"I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where (M/n) (L/n) is filming? I'm her daughter, (Y/n), and I'm trying to look for her. She's not answering her phone either."

His joyful expression slowly melted into a confused one. "Uuhhh…(M/n) (L/n)?”

“Yes. She’s a part of Animal Kingdom? Do you know where that’s being filmed?”

“Oh! I know there’s a zoo around here called Animal Kingdom! I don’t think you’ll find it in a film studio, though.”

(Y/n) frowned. “...No, I mean the show. Aren’t they filming in a warehouse today? Do you know where that is?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

Her eye twitched, and she was just about ready to drown the entire studio in the nearest ocean. “N-Nevermind, I’ll just-”

As if the universe wasn’t satisfied with tormenting her enough, the security guard suddenly launched up into the air and flew into the sky. Right before her eyes, the heavens were coated with explosives of every color that ever existed. 

“Oh my god!” (Y/n) yelled. ‘Who strapped fireworks on that guy?!’

“Oh, I knew you’d love it!”

Her eyes were ripped from the loud fireworks show as she was immediately smothered in a hug. “It’s so nice that another girl’s here! All the other ones here are either too busy or just keep shouting about a restraining order for some reason. I dunno, but anyway, I just know you're gonna love it here! Anyway, my name’s Princess Angelina Louisa Cantessa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the third! But since we're friends now, you can just call me Dot.”

This confirmed it. This was a trap set up by her mother to deliberately drive her insane, because how else can someone explain the nut jobs and talking dogs in pink dresses? 

A combination of those two things happened to be clutching her head and digging her face into hers. “...Huh?” (Y/n) mumbled.

‘Dot’ jumped off of her and smiled widely. “Sorry about Ralph by the way. I figured out you were coming at the last second and I really needed someone for your welcoming gift.” she said.

(Y/n) glanced up at the sky where the fireworks were slowly dying down. “Um...Is he gonna be okay?” she asked.  

“Of course he will!” her backpack said.

The teen screamed and threw her bag on the ground. A hand popped out and unzipped it with impossible ease, then a taller boy version of Dot jumped out, pulling up his long brown pants and flashing a grin. 

“H-...H-H-How did you…?!” (Y/n) stuttered, pointing at him. 

“What? Never heard of cartoon logic?” he said, approaching her. “And Ralph’ll be fine. His skull’s so thick, concrete’s the last thing that can kill him.”

“What-?”

“Anyhow,” he walked over to Dot and put an arm over her shoulder, “The name’s Yakko, this here’s my beloved baby sister Dot, and this is-” He stopped, staring at the empty space to his left. He leaned into Dot, whispering, “Say, uh, you don't mind looking for Wakko, do ya sis?”

Dot glanced at (Y/n) for an uncomfortable moment and suddenly shot her brother a glare. "I've got eyes all over this studio, Yakko," she warned, slowly stepping away.

Now (Y/n) certainly knew she didn't see pairs of eyes appear around every inch of her sight. 'Oh god, I didn't breath in drugs on the way here, did I? Actually, that would explain whatever the heck's going on.'

Yakko smiled as he watched his sister leave and turned to (Y/n). He walked closer to her, and she realized that his half-lidded eyes had a strange glint in them. “Sooo, your name’s (Y/n), right? A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

(Y/n)’s face heated up. ‘First I get lost, then see a guy get blown up, and now some other guy’s flirting with me? ...To be honest, this is still better than what Mom had planned for today.’

“So what brings ya’ here?” he asked.

“O-Oh, well, my Mom was supposed to give me a tour of the studio, but I’ve been giving that to myself all day. I tried finding her, but I’m pretty sure I’m nowhere near it by now.” Her eyes wandered over to the ground, but a realization made them perk back up and over to Yakko. “Hey, do you happen to know this place by any chance?”

“Know it? Please, my sibs and I live here, we know this place by heart and soul!” He mumbled something else, along the lines of “Basically made our hearts and souls”. 

Her heart jumped; finally, a piece of good news. “Really?” she said, a smile spreading across her face.

He nodded. “So where do ya’ need to go?” Before she could answer, he pulled out a piece of folded paper and moved in so close, their shoulders were smooshed together. Yakko unfolded it, and it turned out to be the biggest map (Y/n) has ever seen. “Well, from here, you’re gonna need to take a right and continue straight until you get to the Harry Potter and Fantastic Beasts exhibit. But be careful, I heard some of them escaped, and if anyone asks if you’ve seen any of them, don’t tell them I gave one to Dot as a late birthday gift. Anyway, you take a left from there, then a right where you’ll see the lot where they used to shoot Game of Thrones. Now this is only a rumour I’ve heard, but I think some of the producers are still on that set. If you happen to see them, do not, I repeat, DO NOT mention season eight, or maybe just don’t mention the show at all. Actually, don’t even look at them. As a matter of fact, you probably shouldn’t even go there at all, just keep heading straight until you get to the D.C. Universe lot. Then you just take left there, then a sharp right over over, then you keep going straight until you get to here, turn up over there, turn right there, and then you’re there. Did ya’ follow all that?”

(Y/n) stared at his face, which was practically radiating with enthusiasm, and she felt her eye twitch again. “...No,” she said, shaking her head.

His smile dimmed, but it became just as bright as the sun again a split-second later. “Ah well, maps are gettin' old anyways,” he said, throwing the map over his shoulder. “WAKKO!!”

And, low and behold, another anthropomorphic dog popped out of nowhere, and (Y/n) was starting to question if there was an army of them hidden somewhere. But she had to admit, it was pretty cute how this one was dressed in an oversized blue sweater and red hat. 

“Tablet, please,” Yakko said politely, holding out his hand. 

‘You're not gonna walk me there-?'

Wakko suddenly held his head back with his cheeks puffed out, then leaned into Yakko’s hand as he forced out a small object from his mouth. After an incredibly uneasy moment, a tablet glazed in spit was in Yakko's grasp. While he praised the little guy, (Y/n) forced back the urge to vomit.

“E-Ehhhh…?” She couldn’t say anything else while her gaze frantically went back and forth from Wakko and the regurgitated tablet. 

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Yakko said. “(Y/n), this is my dear little brother, Wakko. Wakko, this here’s our new special friend, (Y/n).” 

“Hello!” Wakko greeted, who was suddenly in her arms. “You’re really pretty!”

“Ehh? Thank you? I guess??” she said apprehensively, and finally managed to make eye contact. Despite his...quirks, he's actually a little adorable... She let herself grin a little.

The moment of semi-peace was ruined when she took notice of Yakko’s narrowed eyes. “ALrighty, (Y/n)!” he said loudly, grabbing his little brother by the collar and gently setting him on the ground. “Animal Kingdom, right? Let’s get ya’ right over there.” He moved right beside her and taped the screen a couple times. 

“Um, what’re you doing exactly?” she asked.

“Doing what every person does to get somewhere nowadays.” He grabbed her waist and pulled her against him, and (Y/n) flinched from his touch. “Please keep your arms, legs, and personal items inside the tablet at all times.”

Just when she was about to question him for the hundredth time, he pressed the screen again, and her vision became nothing but white. Her body felt like it was launched into a tornado; a strong force of wind thrusted her back, and somehow, the boy’s arm kept her from flying off from his side. A second later, her feet were back on the ground, the sky was where it needed to be, and reality was back in place. 

Except for (Y/n)’s mentality. 

She stumbled around, trying to find her balance as the world unbearably whirled around her. Finally, she shook her head, and quickly turned back towards Yakko, whose face tried to tell her whatever happened was perfectly fine and normal. 

“What was THAT?” she yelled, staggering towards him and gripping his shoulders.

And he still had the audacity to have that 'why-are-you-freaking-out-so-much-we-do-this-every-Friday' smile. “Thank you for attending Warner’s Travel Tours! I would say my Agent Ralph’ll take your bags, but I left him alone with my sibs, so he’s probably in the middle of the Pacific Ocean by now.”

(Y/n) could only stare at him. Her mind was twisting and turning, trying so hard to make any sense of what happened but only making her headache grow larger and larger. And then, her thoughts just went blank.

She smirked. Then giggled. And a few seconds later, she had burst out laughing whilst holding her stomach. (Y/n) looked back up at Yakko, wiping a tear from her eye. “Th-Thank you…” she said, catching her breath. 

His smile had grown and she thought his white cheeks were red for a moment. Yakko had opened his mouth, but whatever he was about to say was cut off by a net suddenly covering his entire body. Ralph was behind him, his skin and clothes burnt and ears practically smoking. “You’re coming with me, Warner!” he said.

And yet, Yakko only grinned. Like physics was his enemy, he disappeared from inside the net and appeared sprouting from the security guard’s back, cheerfully waving at (Y/n). “I’ll see ya’ around, yeah?” he said, then ran around the corner with Ralph sprinting right after him.

(Y/n) giggled and reached for the straps around her back. But when she only felt the (f/c) fabric of her shirt, her smile dropped, and a deep sigh escaped her lips. “Great…” she whispered.

“(Y/N)!” 

She gasped as a pair of arms squeezed the life out of her. Her mother spun her around to face her gleaming smile, which was immediately replaced by an apologetic frown. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get your texts! That scene took forever, but I’m glad you found your way here! You’re so smart! Anyway, I know we don’t get as much time now, but there’s still so much we’ll be able to see!...”

She rambled on and on and on and on. Her daughter’s shoulders slumped and she followed her to where she wanted her to go, but the frown on her face didn’t last long when she remembered the fun she had just a few seconds ago. ‘Maybe this summer won’t be that bad.’

[fishstyx]

russian roulette.

featuring. nagito komaeda x fem!reader

wc. 2.0k

genre. smut, dark/taboo

tw. 18+ nsfw, noncon, penetration, gunplay, degradation/humiliation

synopsis. nagito follows you into the final dead room and shows you the proper way to play russian roulette. drv2 spoilers/context (chapter 4) ahead.

“And just what do you think you’re doing here?” Nagito says from behind you, his sudden utterance booming off the solid concrete surroundings. An uncharacteristic disgust drips from his every word, drawn out so painfully slowly that you’re convinced he thinks you a mere toddler.

“Playing the Life-Threatening Game,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible, but he’s caught you unawares. You startle even as you speak, the shudder of your body undoubtedly making its way into your voice. You’re sure that the door had locked behind you, so just how did he manage to slip in while the game was still in progress? Not to mention that the person in front of you doesn’t truly seem like Nagito Komaeda. Sure, he’s always had his quirks, but right now it feels like you’re talking to… somebody else.

“With only one bullet?” is Nagito’s only response as he creeps toward you, frown deepening when you back away, gun clutched to your chest. 

“And what about it?” You do your best to plaster on a brave face, but your arm hits the wall behind you and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how small, how suffocating the Final Dead Room is with another person in it. He lets out a heavy sigh as he corners you, box of bullets in hand. The clatter of metal rings in your ears when he presses you into the blood-stained walls, leaning into your ear to whisper:

“That’s not nearly enough.” He fishes the revolver from your shaky hand with ease, the clinking of extra bullets following soon after. “Even someone like you understands, don’t you?” He loads round after round into the gun, pressing bullets into each chamber until they’re flush against the cylinder surface, and it’s all you can do just to watch. “That the payout of this game rests upon the difficulty you set it to.” 

On top of you still, he picks the sixth bullet up and waves it in your face, almost mockingly. “It’s safe to assume that the killer, a coward among cowards, played it safe and loaded a single bullet same as you did. And as for me—well, I’ve already cleared the highest level.” Sliding the final bullet in with a click, he pushes the cylinder back into the gun frame with marked familiarity. “At least, I thought it was the highest level.” 

“H...huh? Highest level?” you wonder as loud as you dare, earning a scoff from Nagito. 

“And here I was thinking you could follow along with a simple explanation. How short-sighted of me. Well, you can save your questions for later.” Smirking at the sight of your mouth agape, he spins the cylinder before you can interrupt again. “As I was saying, I only thought I was playing at the highest level. But thinking back on it now...” His face draws close to yours, hot breath tickling your skin as he rests the muzzle flat against your quivering lips. “Wouldn’t it be something if you survived this?”

Holy shit.

You struggle under Nagito’s weight, legs going weak under the looming threat of death. How did you let this happen? One wrong move and you’d be nothing but an addition to the bloodstains behind you. “T-This isn’t funny, Nagito.” Your lips tremble around the revolver, heavy and icy to the touch, when it doesn’t budge an inch. 

“What I’m trying to say,” he continues, unfazed, “is that your efforts will be pointless if you don’t go all out here. We’ll learn nothing new if I let you play the way you want to.” You hear the words, and yet you can’t make sense of them. Not when the classmate before you holds your very life in his hand.

“Nagito, please—” you say more forcefully, heart pounding all the while.

“Please what?”

“P-Please put the gun down.” But one look at his face and you know he’s not having it.

“Oh, so you’re not going to pull the trigger? Even if I do it with you?” Sheer disappointment crosses Nagito’s features as he deliberates, armed hand never so much as faltering. He studies your face in silence, the break from his ranting more eerie than comforting. The temperature of the room drops several degrees when he finally speaks again. 

“Oh, I know.” He lowers the gun only to drag it down your neck and along your chest, drawing wide circles around your buds. “Hopeless halfwits like you need a little incentive, don’t you think?”

“That’s not what I—” 

You’re cut off by your own sharp inhale as the gun presses into your abdomen, tracing the outline of your thighs and traveling even lower still. It runs up and down that sensitive spot between your legs, poking and prodding near your deepest nooks and crannies, testing for a reaction. And he eventually gets one, a soft groan tumbling past your lips when he grinds the muzzle against your clit—and although clothed, it sends waves of electricity straight to your core. 

“You were saying?” Nagito laughs when you fail to respond, mortified by your own body’s betrayal. It’s as if you’re frozen in time. Your heart practically leaps out your chest and your eyes, wide as saucers, flicker from the gun to Nagito, Nagito to the gun, and back again. It feels like an entire lifetime passes you by when he continues to brush against the sensitive nub, chasing after another reaction, but you’re paralyzed now. You watch in slow motion as he grows impatient, fingers dipping below your waistband, pulling your panties down just far enough for the tip of the barrel to kiss your bare cunt. 

Move. Move. Move, you tell yourself. Your head throbs and your fingers twitch. He can’t kill you, not in the middle of an investigation. Not when another student was just murdered. Not unless... 

You search Nagito’s cat-like eyes for some glimmer of humanity, a silent plea, a probe into the void itself—one that leaves you with more questions than answers.

Not unless he’s the killer himself.

With the wicked smile he’s sporting, much too twisted and much too wide, you don’t doubt it for a second. But he gives you no time for critical thought, instead plunging the gun deep inside your pulsating pussy, not a moment spared to prep you.

Your back arches instinctively; you weren’t ready for this, not in a million years would you ever be ready for a pistol to slide inside you, such a cold and stiff thing spreading your walls without so much as a warning. It’s so far up that the trigger guard presses into your clit, bundle of nerves puffy and swollen from all the stimulation. A searing sensation emanates from between your thighs and you can’t help but let out a little yelp.

“N-Nagito! Wait...” you try again, a pathetic mewl more than anything else, but it doesn’t seem to register. His expression is unreadable as he inches the gun out little by little, sliding your pants down to get a better view. And then he pauses when the muzzle surfaces from your entrance.

That’s when you see it. The gun’s barrel, glistening with arousal, glistering in liquid coating, and he just holds it there as if to say, would you look at that—you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

“You know, it’s hard to understand you when you mumble.” You choke up when he suddenly jams the gun back in, stroking—no, pounding your gummy insides with fevered delight, your slimy slick squelching below you, pit of your stomach unraveling as the metal warms itself up with the heat of your core. 

A shameless whimper escapes you when he keeps up the pace, dynamic movement burying the pain in pleasure, your mind swirling with delirity. This shouldn’t feel good. And when you stop to think about it, it really doesn’t. Your walls are raw, sensitive, and throbbing, but some primal part of you is overflowing with desire, getting off on the thrill. 

Because every time the rigid ridges of the barrel burrow into you, the knot in your stomach tightens, threatening to cut loose. The gun bottoms out inside you over and over again, relentless in its constant push and pull. It forces your body into submission, coaxing it into something limp, ragdoll, and unrecognizable because the stimulation is just that overwhelming. Your knees begin to give out; it’s too much, the way your tight heat flutters around the pistol, his pistol, juices soaking your clothes and dripping out onto the floor. 

“Nng-Nagito, please stop, I-I can’t—” You struggle to find the right words, stuttering incomprehensibly.

“Hmm, can’t go on? Would you rather be doing... something else?” He cocks the hammer to remind you of your place and you shake your head vigorously, trying desperately not to think about the possibility of death, as well as the ache that grows ever stronger in your core.

“How utterly disgusting. So you admit you actually want this,” he practically spits, your pathetic pussy pulsing in response. 

That’s not true. 

“With a body like this, are you sure your talent isn’t the Ultimate Slut?” 

It really isn’t, you think. But something about his tone of voice makes you clench even tighter around the gun’s barrel, senses punctuated by his ceaseless pumping into that one spongy spot that has you curling your toes. Saltwater threatens to spill over your eyes when he points it out: “I can’t believe it, you’re basically sucking it in. Dirty fucking whore, making my job harder for me.” 

Your cheeks heat up in shame, thighs shifting wider when he nudges them apart, holding them right where he wants you. You squeak when he plunges the gun impossibly deeper, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you realize you’re about to come undone.

The world shudders when you cum on and over the pistol, the overflow drenching Nagito’s hand. A lewd moan like no other resonates throughout the room—and then you realize that it’s yours, that it’s you who’s moaning, you who’s seeing stars while creaming all over a loaded gun. The tears are painting your cheeks now, exquisite sting doing little to comfort you. His hand stills and you collapse to the floor, exhausted from reaching your high, gun still nestled deep inside you.

Sighing in defeat, Nagito crouches beside you, eyeing you like one would a wriggling maggot. You can’t even begin to imagine what you look like, arms and legs splayed out in haphazard angles, eyes glazed over, your mouth wide open as you pant like a bitch in heat. He taps the side of the gun with a sole fingernail.

“Go on, then. Take it out.”

It takes the last of your energy to swing your arm over, hand clenching the grip of the gun in slothful momentum. It’s hard to think straight. It’s hard to think about anything at all besides your sluggish relief. 

Finally. It’s finally over. The lingering effects of your orgasm die out as you’re left with nothing but the violating weapon stuck up your abused hole. It’s all you can do just to tug on it.

But as soon as you start to pull on it, Nagito grabs ahold, his grip much stronger than your own. Everything in its place, exactly how he wanted it. His smile is torturous, haunting.

“Got you.” He guides, or rather forces, your index finger to its rightful place on the trigger, and you do little to struggle.

“No, no more—” Your voice comes out a meek rasp, labored breath falling upon deaf ears.

“Bang,” he says unceremoniously, pressing your finger into the trigger.

“Say, Nagito, tell me something.” Monokuma turned his gaze from the pitiful sight of your passed out form, left to soak in your own juices on the cold hard ground. “You didn’t happen to rig the game, now, did you?”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Monokuma,” Nagito said as he snatched the prize from the duocolor teddy bear, a hefty file embossed in gold letters that read, clear as day: Makoto Naegi. A knowing smile crept to his lips as he pawed through its contents. 

“The gun jammed, fair and square.”

fishstyx © 2021 ✸ all content and their rights belong to me. do not repost, reproduce, or modify anywhere.

[haechanhues]

pairing : beomgyu x fem!reader 

genre : angst. slightest bit of fluff. oneshot. 

warnings : heartbreak. 

summary : you and beomgyu have a heart to heart. 

words : 1.3k 

Beomgyu shoots hoops to rid himself of the nerves electrocuting his whole body. His hands comb back his hair and he’s become so antsy that it stresses even Taehyun out. 

‘Chill, Gyu,’ Taehyun soothes before he looks at your approaching figure in the distance, ‘just focus on making that apology.’ 

Beomgyu dribbles the ball into the middle of the court and tries to appear natural as you stand across from him. Taehyun and Huening Kai retreat from the basketball court onto the field in an no-so-subtle attempt to give you both space. 

‘Beomgyu.’ 

He can’t take the way you say it. Soft, mostly firm but brittle at the edges. Your shoulders are slightly hunched and you look just as nervous as he does. 

‘I love you,’ He says without much thought other than the need in his body to say it. He’s said it many times before and he’s always liked the way your eyes would light up as he said it. But to no use. 

This time it’s different. Your eyes don’t light up in any way and remain devoid of any expression. He realises with a deep drop in his stomach that you don’t believe him. 

Or you refuse to believe him. 

You close your eyes and sigh, ‘Why did you say yes?.... In the beginning?’ 

Beomgyu closes his eyes. It’s a question he knows he should answer. He knows he should. He just doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to hurt you more than he already has. He weighs out his options and in both of them sound like one way trip to your heart being stomped on. 

It’s just a matter of how he breaks it. He nibbles his bottom lip and tries to remember how to breathe and how to form words. 

He should just tell you. 

He should. 

However, Beomgyu doesn’t want to. Beomgyu doesn’t want to tell you that you were the pretty friend of the actual person he had a crush on and he asked you out because it would rile them up. 

He doesn’t want to tell you it was an attempt to make you jealous. To make his actual crush to act and put their claim over him. 

Beomgyu especially didn’t want to tell you that he kissed his crush just days later whilst he was supposedly dating you and that he continued to date you to spite his crush who only shot him down and fed him cow shit. 

He even thinks it’ll be too cliche and too douchebag to tell you how much he loves you now. 

‘You were there,’ He says vaguely but his mind is running in circles. With nothing in his basket, he feels like a cornered animal. An animal with a desperate goal but low expectation, ‘‘and then....I started to genuinely have feelings for you. I started to like you both at the same time.’ 

You could only stare at him with tears welling in your eyes and you could hope that the night sky masks how the shield you had built up in the week before this has started to crack with only a few of Beomgyu’s words. Your mouth had become to tremble and you’re pretty sure if you continue to bite on your tongue, you’ll start to draw blood. 

‘And then... there was only you,’ Beomgyu nodded, ‘I only wanted you.’ 

You frown as Beomgyu steps forward, holding your face in his palms to nuzzle his forehead against yours. The familiarity of the action initially calms you and you find yourself gravitating towards him. But your determination to hold strong outweighs how much you want to forget all and continue living in ignorance. 

With little strength you push him away, but Beomgyu feels so weak in his joints that it almost pushes him down on the concrete. 

‘You say that now.... but I can’t ever love a guy like you.’ 

The way you enunciate the last word with such poison makes Beomgyu let out a noise from his throat. He rushes forward in an attempt to soothe the hurt you have lit his body with. 

‘Choi Beomgyu,’ You’re starting to cry now. Every word you utter feels brainwashed and tainted with hurt and hate, ‘I told you I loved you and you lied to me.’ 

‘I do love you,’ Beomgyu cried. 

‘Maybe you do, I admit,’ You shake your head, no longer with tears in your eyes but a faux strong facade. You’re determined not to go back to him, no matter how much that’d ease the free-falling of your heart, ‘But that doesn’t change that enough of our whole relationship was a fucking lie, Beomgyu.’ 

Beomgyu watches you say that with such conviction and he can’t help the way tears decorate his cheeks. He truly wants to send his head into a brick wall because that would hurt less than this. You watch as Beomgyu loses himself to the war happening behind his eyes. Despite deliberately putting it there, you hated how you were still so concerned for him. 

That the love you have- had for him laughed at your pain and focused on how pretty he looked. How good he smelled. You hated the way your body indulged in your need to be with him. Unconsciously, you brush his tears away with a swipe of your finger before pressing a goodbye kiss to his lips. 

Beomgyu’s breath hitches at the feeling of your lips on his before bringing you in closer so you are pressed up against his chest. One hand rests on your hip whilst the other rests beneath your jaw. His lips were soft against yours and felt nothing like how the relationship was. 

So you let yourself pretend. 

He hesitantly parts his lips, letting you take control over what is right or wrong for him to do. When you begin to match his actions with a slight brush of your tongue, he can’t help it but deepen the kiss. 

He commits everything in these last few seconds to memory. Memorising how sweet you kiss and the shared thudding of your heartbeats and the loss of breath and thought. He lets his fingers brush your hair back behind your ears and your cheek begins to tingle in the wake of his soft touch. The tears that decorated his face have now started to decorate yours. 

As the seconds trickle into minutes, and when the kiss and feel of him starts to break your resolve you push him away. 

He watches you. Your lips are swollen and your eyes look like how he imagined his own to look like. But it doesn’t make him feel better, instead it feels like he’s being stabbed repeatedly. 

Except it is not blood that weeps from this wound. It is regret. It is chaos. It is his heart that you have nurtured and cared for all these months, uprooted and mangled in a lying heap. 

‘You kiss me like you’d lose me,’ Beomgyu says with a crack in his throat. Like an idiot. 

You stare at him. 

‘Haven’t I already?’ You smile but it is knotted by all the hurt and betrayal he has inflicted on you. Yet he can’t help but tilt his head upwards because facing the sky is a lot easier than hearing that escape from your mouth. 

‘I’m going to be your one that walked away, I hope you know that,’ You giggle in a sad attempt to put a smile on his face. But it does nothing but freeze your relationship over for good. 

You twitch as you walk away from him, pleading that he doesn’t hear your own heart screaming for him and the tell tale signs of a breakdown. 

He can only watch you walk away from him sadly, ‘I know.’ 

He collapses to the ground with the weight of your goodbye. Huening Kai and Taehyun approach him hesitantly, testing the waters for any lashing out. The regret blooming in his heart has him pinned to the ground. 

He turns towards his friends and laughs in a way that only scares them, ‘Well I fucked that up.’

And like a matchstick of the past, the flame that once was....blown out.

authors note : i have nothing else to say but :) (it’s currently midnight) 

[llamagoddessofficial]

Okay for supernatural/demon lads and ghosthunting MC though.... imagine one of their haunted house sleepovers. The guys torn between scaring off the actual hauntings and *also* liking the way MC snuggles up close when spooky sounds and blips on her camera/sound equipment/etc happen.... Maybe a ouija board session at the witching hour where some narc ghost tries to warn her about three demons clinging to her >:Dc

WAAA omg. omg. omg this gave me an idea i had to-

“... The collapse of the roof in 1755 crushed 4 residents of the asylum.” You were deliberately using your spookiest voice, drained of all but the bare essentials of emotion to get the point across, flashlight in hand. “Since the accident they’ve cleared the damage and fixed the ceiling... but some say the spirits of those killed still wander the halls today, trapped not by rubble... but by the pain that binds their energy to this location.” 

You were still amazed at how steadily Skull could hold a camera. Whenever you looked through footage, even the stuff taken when he was walking, it was as if you had it on a professional electronic rig... you honestly had no idea what you’d do without him. It was pretty damn cold in the building, as it was completely derelict and abandoned, with no windows to furnishings to retain heat- only the concrete foundations remained.

“Visitors to the site have reported tapping on the walls, footsteps, shadows in the corridors, and the smell of brick dus-”

At the sound of tapping very nearby on the old plaster asylum wall, you spun around in shock, shining your flashlight...

... On Red, who was grinning like a bastard, rapping his phalanges on the wall.

“... s’pretty sturdy for an old ass wall.” He purred, pulling an ‘innocent’ face and putting his hand back in his pocket.

“hearing creaks and smelling dust in an old building.” Sans said, with his usual unbothered smile, like all this was just a bad haunted house attraction. “shocking. must be ghosts.”

“Oh, sure, act smug now, you’ll be apologising later when I get paranormal activity on camera.” You mumbled, deliberately shining the light into his face for a moment. You removed your spirit box from your pocket, ignoring the little joking vampire-like hissing sound he made.

The spirit box was your prized possession, your favourite method of communicating with spirits. It was a small black device that somewhat resembled an old walkie talkie; its purpose was to rapidly cycle between radio stations, producing static noise that ghosts could communicate directly with you through. It sounded sharp and horrible and always made the ugliest jittering sound, but even just holding it in your hands made you feel more and more excited.

“... I’ve got a device in my hand.” You said, addressing the room, the building... this was the part you never got over. The part where you spoke directly into the darkness that somehow seemed both smoggy and veil-thin, the part where you could almost feel the unseen eyes in the area turn to you. A shiver ran up your spine... you were certain that if you weren’t flanked by the comforting presences of Sans, Red and Skull, you’d chicken out before you could capture any video. “It’s going to play static that’ll allow you to communicate with us. If you want to, please speak, tell us what happened here.”

“geez. i hate this thing...

... You turned it on. Sans pulled a face, but didn’t make any of his usual complaints, which you appreciated. You stood there, waiting, all four of you staring at the device in your hand... it usually took a little while for something to come through so you weren’t expecting-

“ - - D E M O - N S -”

It blurted out of the box, clear as day, the clearest voice you’d ever heard coming from the box with only a slight jitter from the skipping. It sounded like a man. You jumped, your chest and your eyes widening- “Oh my God... I- what did it say? Did you say demons?”

“- E M O N S - - - I - N - -”

Your hands were shaking- he repeated it. Your full attention was on the box now, your heart was starting to pound. “There are demons here? In the building?”

“- YES-”

It was the same voice, giving you clear replies! This was huge! You couldn’t believe it! You were holding the box like it was a winning lottery ticket, just about losing your mind. “What’s your name? Tell me your name.”

“- -  PLE A S E -” 

You didn’t see the expressions on the guys’ faces. You didn’t notice Red and Sans slip away into the dark, too exhilarated to be expecting their usual cutthroat humour and cynicism.

"Where are the demons? Are they in the building? Can you tell me where they are?”

Something came through the box, but it was too mangled by the static, too impossible to make out. “What did you say? Say that again!”

“- W - - TH -” It was like something was interfering with the transmission. “W I T H - Y O U.”

... What?

“... With me?”

“ T H E - S K E L E T - ”

... It turned off.

...

Everything turned off. Your fully charged torch went dead, Skull’s torch went dead, the camera's lights blinked out. Suddenly, all the noise in the world had vanished... it was so, so deafeningly quiet...

... and the only light was Skull’s blood red iris, staring at you.

...

“... All the stuff just...” 

... You looked around the room, trying to see something in the murky darkness, as if searching the shadows for a reason for the sudden powercut to all your individual devices at once.

“... something wrong?” Skull asked. 

His voice was incredibly gentle.

... It was as if a cloud descended over your mind. Suddenly, just like that, you felt like you’d been plunged into a dream. Nothing seemed... real. You couldn’t think, you couldn’t process... a horrible wave of dizziness accompanied the cloud, creeping over you, prickling at your temples and muddying everything that was going in and out of your brain.

“I-I...” You stopped being able to feel your hands or your death grip on the useless flashlight. The pitch black room was beginning to spin, slowly... “I don’t...”

“hm?” 

“Where’s...” Your eyes were darting about. Pounding head, like it’d been stuffed full of cotton... your lips weighed too much, it was hard to speak. “Where... Sans... Red...?”

“... shh... it’s okay.” 

A big hand softly closed over yours. You knew Skull had big hands, that was something you loved about him... but the one that held you was huge. Your tiny appendage was swallowed whole by thick bones with long, cruel claws... it felt like him, but it didn’t... feel like him...

... What’s going on? Where am I?

... The hand gently led you closer, easily moving you like you were little more than a confused child. His eyelight was in view... his huge, red eyelight... your own eyes were stinging, strained, wide and afraid. The other hand moved close to you but you didn’t even have the presence of mind to flinch as it gently brushed hair out of your face... you just stared up into the eyelight.

He had horns. Skull’s silhouette had huge, curved horns.

“it’s alright.” He murmured, cupping you like a precious baby bird. His voice had become distorted, warped... and even in your state of delirium, you were certain it wasn’t from the headache. “you’re with me. you can let go.” 

The dizziness was becoming too much to bear. You couldn’t even focus on his iris anymore, you couldn’t see, you were either going to pass out or be sick. The distant sound of your flashlight hitting the floor... You pressed your eyes shut to relieve the aching, and tried to say something, but it was just a bleary mumble...

“that’s it.” He purred, the hand holding yours instead moving to your back to support your swaying body. You couldn’t open your eyes again... you didn’t want to. It felt so much nicer closed, the discomfort was muffled. “don’t need fight. none of this... ever happened.”

... You were vaguely aware of him catching your tipping body and scooping you up into his arms before everything went completely dark.

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 111

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 111: Doll Mary

There wasn’t much in the backpack. Lin Qiushi forced his trembling hands to steady, and very quickly found what he was looking for—a pale silver gun. It looked no different from a normal gun, and there were three bullets in it.

This was an item that Lin Qiushi had gotten off someone else in the human oil lamp door. Though he had yet to use it, he and Ruan Nanzhu both guessed that this was a rare item of destruction allowed inside the doors, and was very valuable.

The Hako Onna's cry had came from the kitchen, meaning she was not on the second floor. The thing in the chest before them, therefore, was likely a Hakobito. And Hakobito could be killed.

Lin Qiushi could only take the gamble, but even if he lost this bet, he still had one last trick up his sleeve. At this point Liang Miye could no longer keep her hold on Ruan Nanzhu. She'd used up all her strength, managing to slow Ruan Nanzhu just a little, and could only turn to Lin Qiushi with anxious eyes.

Lin Qiushi took a deep breath, stood up, and turned toward the chest. He pulled the trigger in his hand.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Three loud gunshots were followed by a terrible cry. The bullets from Lin Qiushi's handgun pierced the wooden chest, blowing three holes, large and black, into the lid. The Hakobito hidden inside screamed, and red blood began seeping out through the holes, drizzling into a puddle on the ground.

Ruan Nanzhu's steps seemed to slightly stall on account on this commotion, but then he continued heading for the chest.

Lin Qiushi's stomach sank. Gritting his teeth, he dived forward.

Liang Miye saw what Lin Qiushi was doing and only blinked at first without comprehension. But as soon as she realized, she faltered in shock: "Linlin—You—"

Before she could even finish speaking, she saw Lin Qiushi take hold of the wooden lid. Before Ruan Nanzhu could get close, he'd opened the chest.

It had to be said—though he'd been mentally prepared, Lin Qiushi's heart still stopped the moment the lid came off. He saw what was inside…an utterly contorted human with all its limbs broken. It was stuffed in a strange position inside the cramped little box, and both its eyes had turned a terrifying grey, like they were just two black cavities, staring wide and unwilling to die…On its forehead, there was a large, bloody hole—evidently put there earlier by Lin Qiushi's gun.

Lin Qiushi stood frozen for a couple of seconds before realizing that he was okay. Then he exhaled long and deep, relaxing his tensed-up body. He turned around to look at Ruan Nanzhu, whose steps had also paused.

Ruan Nanzhu stayed standing where he was. A shift came upon his expression as he gradually pulled himself out of that irregular state of mind. Some moments later, his lips parted, and he spoke in a raspy voice:

"I…What did I do just now?"

When she heard his voice, Liang Miye knew the effect of the Hako Onna's power was over. Like Lin Qiushi she let out a long breath and also collapsed onto the ground.

"Zhu Meng, you were almost done for!"

A bit addled, Ruan Nanzhu fumbled, "I…"

Then, after another round of silence, he finally completely rid himself of the Hako Onna's influence.

"She got me?!"

"Yes." Lin Qiushi looked up at him. "Good thing I brought the prop in…"

He'd never concretely realized before the importance of props, and knew well now these things really could save lives. Had it not been for the gun, then either he or Ruan Nanzhu would have croaked.

Reaching up, Ruan Nanzhu pinched the bridge of his nose. He stared at the chest that Lin Qiushi had opened and seemed to grind his teeth a bit.

"Even if she had me, you can't just open the chest like this—"

What if using the gun on the chest hadn't worked? Then wouldn't Lin Qiushi have been screwed?!

Lin Qiushi put on an irreproachable expression, saying, "but I was sure the Hakobito was dead. Why couldn't I open it?"

"Don't think you can treat me like Cheng Qianli."

Ruan Nanzhu was no idiot, and wasn't so easily fooled. How could he not know what Lin Qiushi had done?

Lin Qiushi also couldn't be sure of the prop gun's efficacy, so he'd made a bet with his own life. If it hadn't worked, he'd have traded his own life for Ruan Nanzhu's.

"If you insult Cheng Qianli, I'm telling his brother on you." Lin Qiushi got up off the ground and glanced at the chest behind him. "Can we clean this mess up or something? We can't just leave it in our room, right?"

"If this door is like before, then after we leave for a while this thing will be gone." Liang Miye had plenty of experience there.

"Great, then let's discuss things somewhere else."

Lin Qiushi got up.

Ruan Nanzhu still wasn't looking too happy, so Lin Qiushi rushed over with hugs and kisses, saying he really was so terrified just now, and had it not been for the gun then things would've been really, really bad.

But Ruan Nanzhu's expression stayed dark, and he wasn't speaking. No matter how Lin Qiushi coaxed him, he kept silent, evidently displeased with how Lin Qiushi opened the chest without consulting him just now.

There was nothing Lin Qiushi could do in the end. He could only hope that Ruan Nanzhu would stop being angry after a bit of time.

They moved into another room and began discussing this matter.

"Do you two still remember the rules for Hako Onna?" Ruan Nanzhu said, brows furrowed. "The one about sharing information?"

"I do," Liang Miye said. "You mean to say…"

Ruan Nanzhu, "I suspect the rule inside now are not so different from the one back then."

"How so?" Liang Miye asked.

When playing the tabletop, everybody sat at the same table. This made it so that when one player picked a card from the box, they could choose whether or not to share the information. There was a major advantage to sharing information—all players knew the situation of the items. However, when information was shared, the person playing Hako Onna also gained the same information, and knew which items the players had.

"So you mean the Hako Onna also knows everything we've disclosed?" Liang Miye's eyes went wide. "That's right, every time we've shared information it’s been in the dining room. The kitchen's right next door!"

"She must know, or she wouldn't have picked me," Ruan Nanzhu said. "At least for now, I'm the only one who's been acting like I know all the rules in detail."

If she could successfully get rid of Ruan Nanzhu, then all of the Hako Onna's next moves would come much easier, because nobody among the players would know what the powers written on the cards even meant.

"But isn't that too much like cheating?" Lin Qiushi's brows were furrowed. The doors would never deliberately set up a dead end, and didn't not knowing the rules to a tabletop basically mean there was no solution?

"Yes, that's why I think we're missing a key piece of information," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Even if I'm not here, there must be another way of knowing the rules to the game. But we haven't been able to find the rulebook yet, or perhaps…"

"Or perhaps it's already been found, but the person who's found it hasn't announced it!" Liang Miye exclaimed. "Could that be the case?"

Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

"But why would that person hide the rules?" Lin Qiushi asked. "Or rather, how could they be certain that they'd make it out this door…"

"That's purely a question of probability," Ruan Nanzhu said. "That person doesn't have to guarantee they'll make it out, they just have to make sure they're the last to die."

Once only a single person was left inside a door, then the door's rule would kick in. That person could open any chest they wanted at that point because they'd have entered a state of invincibility.

After listening to Ruan Nanzhu's analysis, neither Lin Qiushi nor Liang Miye spoke.

"Of course, this is all just my guess." Ruan Nanzhu flipped his palms up. "Maybe we're all wrong, and the door's difficulty level's just greatly increased."

"Damn," Liang Miye sighed. "I'm too scared to even imagine what it would be like going into the tenth door without the hint…"

Much less the eleventh.

As the three were speaking, there came a call from the hallway. Somebody was calling for Zhu Meng and Yu Linlin and asking if they were alright; it seemed that someone from downstairs had come at the sound of gunshots.

"I'll go take a look," Liang Miye said, standing up.

"Go ahead, tell them we're fine," Ruan Nanzhu said. "I want to talk to him alone."

He pointed at Lin Qiushi.

Liang Miye could sense something off in the atmosphere between the two, and knew Ruan Nanzhu must still be angry at Lin Qiushi for risking his own safety earlier. Smiling, she said, "alright, but don't talk for too long."

She got up, left the room, and even closed the door for them behind her.

Lin Qiushi didn't know what Ruan Nanzhu was about to say, so before Ruan Nanzhu could speak, he quickly made a pause gesture with his hands.

"Nanzhu, before you say anything, let me ask you one question."

Ruan Nanzhu, "hm?"

Lin Qiushi, "if the same thing happened to me, would you open the chest for me before I get to it?"

Ruan Nanzhu sank into silence. They were both quite clear on the answer to this question.

If there was only one piece of chocolate, he'd break off half for Lin Qiushi and hide the other half. Tomorrow, he'd still give that other half to Lin Qiushi.

"So don't be angry," Lin Qiushi said, soothing Ruan Nanzhu's emotions. "We both know exactly what the other would do. Alright, Nanzhu?"

"I just want you to live," Ruan Nanzhu said. "At least, don't die because of me."

Watching Ruan Nanzhu's eyes, Lin Qiushi spoke quietly: "Something like that's happened before?"

Ruan Nanzhu's lips pressed together. Just when Lin Qiushi thought he wouldn't respond, he nodded.

"Yes."

Lin Qiushi didn't know what to say. Could only reach out and pull him into a hug.

"He had a three year old daughter," Ruan Nanzhu said. "I was still weak back then."

Lin Qiushi had never heard Ruan Nanzhu mention these things, and knew they must have been buried inside Ruan Nanzhu's heart for a very long time.

Words were flimsy in moments like this. Lin Qiushi didn't speak, only held onto Ruan Nanzhu as tightly as he could, trying to give him strength.

Dong, dong, dong. From outside there came knocks at the door. Liang Miye called: "Are you guys done or what? Can I come in now?"

"It's only been three minutes, how can we be done?" Ruan Nanzhu returned. "Who do you think I am, your boss?"

Liang Miye, "…" Buddy, didn't you know a bit too much?

Though that was what they said, the two still opened the door. Liang Miye and Sun Yuanzhou were standing outside with peculiar expressions.

Sun Yuanzhou's in particular—he was scanning Ruan Nanzhu up and down, as if trying to spot some hint of queerness on Ruan Nanzhu's body.

Ruan Nanzhu completely ignored his gaze and toppled straight into Lin Qiushi's arms.

"Did you want something?"

"Someone's found another item," Sun Yuanzhou said. "We wanted to ask you how it's used."

Ruan Nanzhu asked, "what item?"

Sun Yuanzhou, "a fire extinguisher."

At those three words, Ruan Nanzhu, Lin Qiushi, and Liang Miye's eyes all lit up.

"What, it's a useful item?" Sun Yuanzhou too could tell the three were happy.

"Of course," Ruan Nanzhu explained. "That item can stop one of Hako Onna's actions."

"What do you mean?" Sun Yuanzhou asked. "Be more specific."

"I'll give you an example. I was hit by a power just now," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Hako Onna used 'Open This' on me."

Sun Yuanzhou's expression spasmed. "What did you just say?? How are you still here then—did you find another item??"

"No, we resolved it with an item we brought in ourselves," Ruan Nanzhu said. "You heard the gun just now, yes?"

"Mh." Sun Yuanzhou finally calmed down at this. "Continue."

"Once you've used the fire extinguisher, the Hako Onna's power will be interrupted," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Meaning that for one round, her power is rendered useless."

Sun Yuanzhou gave this some thought.

"Then how many times can the Hako Onna use her powers?"

"That we're not sure of," Ruan Nanzhu said. "In the game, she can only use each power once before she has to return it to the card pile. She has to pick it again to keep using it." His finger tapped at his chin. "But we don't know about inside the door."

"Oh," Sun Yuanzhou nodded.

"That's right," Ruan Nanzhu said. "My friend actually did open up a new item, but don't tell anybody else."

"What?" Sun Yuanzhou hadn't expected Ruan Nanzhu to say that.

"It's a little cloth toy called the Doll Mary," Ruan Nanzhu said. "It's an item to help Hako Onna pass on…But if Hako Onna finds out, it'll be more troublesome."

"Then why are you telling me?" Sun Yuanzhou looked around, brows furrowing. "You're not worried she's hiding in one of the chests in here?"

"She's in the kitchen," Ruan Nanzhu said. "If you find Hako Onna's bones, you have to tell me. Once I've helped her pass on, we can all go out."

"Okay," Sun Yuanzhou nodded.

The two traded a few more pieces of intel before parting ways.

After Sun Yuanzhou left, Lin Qiushi turned to Ruan Nanzhu in astonishment.

"When did you find the Doll Mary?"

The Doll Mary was Hako Onna's favorite stuffed doll, and was one of the most critical items in the game. With the Doll Mary, once Hako Onna's bones were found, they could help her pass on, unlock the mansion, and get out of here.

"I haven't found it," Ruan Nanzhu shrugged.

Lin Qiushi blinked, then understood Ruan Nanzhu's meaning.

"You're suspecting…"

"Sh." Ruan Nanzhu made a sign to keep quiet.

Lin Qiushi didn't say anything else.

Watching the two's interaction, Liang Miye was utterly confused. She too knew the use of the Doll Mary, but she couldn't figure out why Ruan Nanzhu wanted to lie to the others and say he'd already found it.

But it seemed like Ruan Nanzhu wasn't planning on explaining either, so Liang Miye didn't bother asking anymore. It wasn't like Ruan Nanzhu would intentionally sabotage the others.

The day passed just like that. Nobody opened any chests in the afternoon, so there were no other noteworthy incidents.

But by dinner time, Lin Qiushi could sense the atmosphere in the whole house was bad. Those who hadn't eaten for two days were practically green with envy as they stared at those eating at the table.

Xiao Ji had become a bit annoyed from all the staring, and spoke candidly: "What use is there if you just stare? Why don't you go open a chest of your own and come eat something?"

Two days were doable, but three days was a bit difficult. Honestly the door really was quite impressive, for being able to come up with such a method to force them into action.

Lin Qiushi guessed they could last at most one more day. By day four, people would definitely crumble under the pressure and open a chest.

"Wei Xiude, you goddamn bastard!" At the sight of Wei Xiude happily chowing down, the starved and panicking newbies were filled with resentment. "You're the one who brought us in here, and this is how you're going to treat us? Didn't you say you were experienced?!"

Against accusations like this, Wei Xiude was utterly unmoved. He only replied, perfectly collected, "murder is not allowed inside the doors. If you kill a teammate, then you'll definitely die once your teammate becomes a ghost."

This was clearly him telling these people that if they wanted to kill him, they'd better get a good gauge of their own abilities first.

The group looked like they wanted nothing more than to tear him to pieces, but could do nothing about it.

After dinner, everybody dispersed.

Lin Qiushi and Ruan Nanzhu too returned to their room, getting into bed to rest.

There were a total of twenty living people in the mansion right now, eleven of whom had opened chests. The remaining nine were still holding out. The three dead people had all become Hakobito, but during the day, Lin Qiushi had gotten rid of one, so there were two Hakobito left.

Of the people who'd opened the chests today, there were no losses, but Lin Qiushi had a feeling that something was bound to happen tomorrow. Starvation, after all, could drive people crazy. The Hako Onna surely wouldn't let this opportunity pass her by.

Currently, two of Hako Onna's powers had been released. There were also two items: one was the gasoline, and one was the fire extinguisher. Their bounty from the day was one digit for the strongbox passcode.

After compiling what they knew, Lin Qiushi planned to go to sleep. Ruan Nanzhu slipped into his bed again, arms wrapping around his waist and quietly playing the lech: "Linlin's waist is so thin."

Lin Qiushi said, "…"

Ruan Nanzhu, "it's very good to hold."

Lin Qiushi bent down and gave him a kiss.

"Go to sleep."

Ruan Nanzhu smiled, closed his eyes, and went to sleep.

They'd thought these people could hold out until the next day, at least, but when midnight came, a terrible scream sounded downstairs.

For a second after Lin Qiushi was woken by the cry, he was frozen. Only when Ruan Nanzhu woke too did he say, "they opened a chest?"

"Most likely." Ruan Nanzhu rubbed at his eyes. "And I thought they'd last 'til morning."

There was food in the kitchen refrigerator, but likewise, those who had not opened chests could not eat it. These people likely hadn't been able to last until the morning, and pressed forth by starvation, opened up a chest. It just seemed that they weren't so lucky.

The cries were coming from the kitchen. When Lin Qiushi got there, he saw a young woman weeping on top of a chest, calling: "Xiao Qian, Xiao Qian—"

Lin Qiushi recalled that she was one of the newbies that Wei Xiude brought in, along with another guy called Xiao Qian. They'd seemed close, and were most likely a couple on the outside.

"Xiao Qian, Xiao Qian!" The girl was banging on the wooden chest with all her strength, crying so hard her whole body seemed to be spasming. Next to her, there was a card and a half-eaten piece of bread.

Undoubtedly, it was as they'd predicted. The couple couldn't take the hunger anymore and came to the kitchen, selecting two chests to open. After opening them, one was dragged inside by either the Hako Onna or one of the Hakobito.

Ruan Nanzhu came to her side, bent down, and picked up the card. He saw what was written on it: My Doll Mary. Lin Qiushi saw the words on the card too, and sucked in a sharp breath.

"That's the power they opened up?"

"It was bound to happen."

Ruan Nanzhu seemed calm at least, putting the card away with a slip of his hand.

The girl was still crying, and soon enough, the kitchen was full of people. Sun Yuanzhou was there too, coming over to ask, "did he find the Hako Onna or one of the Hakobito?"

The girl wasn't answering, just kept banging on the chest.

Sun Yuanzhou yanked her to her feet.

"Can you wake the hell up? If you really want to join him, just go open up that chest!"

Numbly, the girl turned to look behind her. Her sobbing finally halted.

"Was it a Hakobito, or the Hako Onna inside?" Sun Yuanzhou continued to ask.

"I don't know," the girl answered.

"How can you not know?" Sun Yuanzhou frowned.

"I was eating," the girl said. "I looked away for one second, and he was dragged inside."

As soon as she finished speaking, the sound of her lover's scream came from inside the chest.

"Help me, it hurts! Xiao Mei, it hurts so bad, please help me—"

This was entirely a human's voice. The moment Xiao Mei heard it, her face went pale. She turned and lunged for the box, but Sun Yuanzhou caught her in a tight grip.

"Wei Xiude, you're the one who brought her in. Are you not gonna fucking do anything?" Sun Yuanzhou yelled.

But Wei Xiude just smiled.

"We're all adults here. Why do you always want to make someone responsible?"

Sun Yuanzhou, "you motherf—"

Rolling up his sleeve, he was all ready to fight. But someone next to him stopped him.

"Forget it, don't bother with an asshole like this," Sun Yuanzhou's friend said with a nasty look. "He'll get his sooner or later."

Sun Yuanzhou spat at Wei Xiude's feet.

That Xiao Mei just sat silently on the ground, woodenly staring at the chest before her. Ruan Nanzhu watched her for while, before slowly approaching and saying something into her ear.

It was only then that Xiao Mei's numb expression was gradually siphoned away. Grief morphed into fury, and she turned a dark, spine-chilling look on the departing Wei Xiude.

"What did you say to her?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Nothing much," Ruan Nanzhu said. "People need some kind of purpose to live, whether it's happiness or anger."

Lin Qiushi sank into silence. For a moment, he didn't know what to say at all.

Author's Note:

I wonder if any veterans here can guess what Ruan Nanzhu's planning to do _(:3∠)_ Heheheh

Translator’s Note:

The title of this chapter actually translates as “Miss Mary,” and they call the item “Miss Mary” throughout the chapter. In the Hako Onna tabletop rulebook though, the card is called Doll Mary, so I went with that instead. Also, I haven’t been able to find the particular power card that Xiao Mei opened up, so “My Doll Mary” is a translation (”我的瑪麗小姐” / “My Miss Mary” or “Miss Mary is Mine”), and might not be the official name.

Names in this chapter:

Xiǎo Qiān / Xiao(3) Qian(1) / 小謙

Xiǎo Méi / Xiao(3) Mei(2) / 小玫

her name also means Rose (玫瑰)

[Ch. 110] | [Ch. 112]

[imaginethoseguys]

Liquid Courage

Hi, I need to submit a seminar paper in 10 days so naturally I wrote this 3k+ fic for Itadori Yuji girl, bye

Pairing: Itadori Yuji x fem!S/O Word count: 3.3k Warnings: fluff, drinking, drunk confessions, slight angst, au motifs Summary: No matter the chosen activity, Yuji would be equally excited to simply spend time with her. He didn’t even need her to reciprocate his feelings. He felt comfortable in his lovable bubbly state, and she most likely loved him as a friend, so all was well. Trying to take things further would be a risky move anyway and he would not dare take his chances at the expense of making things worse between them because the last thing he would ever want is to make her upset or uncomfortable. He still remembered all her stories about friendships she inescapably lost after the “I need to tell you something” texts in the middle of the night from guys who she felt comfortable enough to be herself with.

Yup, no way that was happening. a/n: Itadori's in his 20s (as well as s/o)

gif credit

It wasn’t Yuji who offered to spend the Friday night at a bar. He didn’t enjoy drinking that much, and there was some weird old movie at the local theatre that they could watch and make fun of together. But it was an unusual occasion, they were on a week-long mission, dealing with curse activity in Osaka, and, well, it was  her  who asked, so of course he agreed. He never went against her suggestions, he trusted her fully, maybe even too much. Possibly, it was her way with words. Somehow, she knew exactly what to say in situations where Yuji often found himself at loss for words. She was reliable and reassuring and had a certain kind of warmness to her.

Or, possibly, it was Yuji’s six-years-long crush on her that had him blushing and hyperventilating at anything she did, so opinions were divided on this one.

No matter the chosen activity, Yuji would be equally excited to simply spend time with her. He didn’t even need her to reciprocate his feelings. He felt comfortable in his lovable bubbly state, and she most likely loved him as a friend, so all was well. Trying to take things further would be a risky move anyway and he would not dare take his chances at the expense of making things worse between them because the last thing he would ever want is to make her upset or uncomfortable. He still remembered all her stories about friendships she inescapably lost after the “I need to tell you something” texts in the middle of the night from guys with who she felt comfortable enough to be herself. Yup, no way that was happening.

“Oh, look, they have homemade plum wine!” her exclamation brought Yuji’s attention back to reality. “And it’s in pitchers too. Lucky!”

“You do remember you can’t hold your liquor, right?” he said, propping his face on his right hand while watching her mumble giddily “plum wine and soda, plum wine and soda.” She lowered the laminated menu sheet and leveled him with an annoyed gaze.

“I am a grown young woman who earns a living by exorcising curses, I’m pretty sure I can handle a glass or two,  Yuji .”

“Including that time when you threw up on Fushiguro mid-conversation?”

“That was graduation! And we did shots.”

“Yeah, it was also 7pm.”

“Enough of you, mister.” She threateningly pointed a finger at him and turned around to call the waiter. Receiving an acknowledging nod in return, she turned back. “Besides, if we’re talking about you, everyone is terrible at holding their liquor in comparison.”

“I’m just heavyweight.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“You’re just a beast machine who suppressed the King of Curses and can run 50 meters in 3 seconds,” she shook her head at her own description, “no wonder you’re Special Grade. Why do you bother drinking at all? Pretty sure it does nothing to you.”

“I don’t do it on my own. I like the company.” He said timidly.

“Aw, see? This is why I love you.”

Yuji’s eyes widened unintentionally, but she didn’t look at him long enough to see it, her attention swiftly taken away by an approaching waiter. He assured himself he was better at controlling his feelings, but it was all falling apart now, like a bunch of lies, because he could feel his entire face and ears pulsate from heat. He stared at the way her lips moved, making the order.

as a friend as a friend as a friend as a friend as a friend

“Yuji? Yuji!”

He snapped back, looking even more surprised.

“You wanted the Ginjo-Shu, right?”

His gaze lingered on her face, open and bright, with eyebrows slightly raised.

“Yeah.”

This is fine.

* * *

“Ah, see? This is exactly what I was talking about.”

Yuji furrowed his eyes helplessly and took the glass from her hand. She tried to down her drink in one motion but missed and spilled it over herself. Looking back now, he wasn’t sure if it was her being lightweight or her not stopping in time.

“When did that even happen,” he mumbled to himself, “she was fine a minute ago.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” she moaned in drunk annoyance, “because I  am  here.”

“So it seems,” Yuji smiled.

“And I may be many things, but there’s one thing that I am not, and it is deaf. Or stupid.”

“Yup, that’s two things though.”

She sighed loudly and leaned back on the wooden wall of their booth. They were surrounded by soft mixes of white noise: distant frying and sizzling from the kitchen, clinking of glasses, and giddy discussions of the upcoming weekend. They could almost feel like they belonged here, to the normal crowd of Osaka drinking their weekly stresses away, complaining about their bosses, bills, and personal dramas.

Is that what it’s like to be normal?  Both of them thought.

Yuji looked over at her and felt the heat returning to his cheeks. This drink spill felt too deliberate to be accidental. And her bra was very thin, and the bar’s AC was on and—

Yuji groaned and swiftly took his hoodie off, almost throwing it in her direction.

“Wear this, please.”

She didn’t really fight it and slowly put it over her head, beginning to crawl inside. She stopped somewhere in the middle and breathed in.

Ah, it smells so good. Smells like him.

She pressed the fabric into her face, taking in his scent. When did he manage to put on cologne? That’s just unfair.

“You okay in there? Are you stuck?” Yuji looked questionably at the wrinkly bundle that was now his hoodie with her somewhere inside.

“Listen, Yuji.”

“You’re just gonna talk to me like this, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured in a soft voice. “I know this isn’t how you would spend your night, but—I wanted to—you know. But in the end, I just—and—”

Suddenly, she felt a gentle tug, and her head popped out of the hoodie, revealing Yuji’s face lightened by a warm smile.

“I told you, I like the company.”

There was a needle prick somewhere around her heart, and she pressed her lips together, taken by a sudden wave of sadness.

“Let’s get back, yeah?”

* * *

Their hotel wasn’t far from the bar, but due to her condition, the walk back took longer than usual. Summer was ending, the air was still warm, but there was a tingling coldness with each wind blow,  a careful reminder of the approaching grey sky and smell of wet concrete, covered by tired leaves.

The path to the hotel entrance was hidden among the sleeping quarters, illuminated by floor lights, and framed by tall bamboo sticks. Yuji walked first and was right in front of the automatic sliding doors when he stopped and turned around to check on her. Instead of right behind him, he saw her at the beginning of the entrance path with her head down.

“Hm? Are you okay? Wait, are you sick?? Then stay right there, if you wanna throw up, do it—um—” he swiftly looked around. Seeing a gardening pot near one of the doors across the street, he pointed at it. “Here, maybe in this pot? Wait, no, this is a nice neighborhood, imagine waking up and finding vomit in your plants… ah, maybe in this bamboo? I’m not sure if it’s real though… ah, but this hotel allows hosting of jujutsu sorcerers because the owner is a friend of someone from the higher-ups, and if we vomit here—"

“Yuji.”

“Oh, maybe vomit in my t-shirt? And I’ll carry it to the nearest dumpster? No, that’s a horrible idea. Are you sure you can’t hold it until we get to our room? Then—”

“I’m not sick, Yuji!” she said loudly, maybe even too much so. “Although all this vomit talk is grossing me out.”

Yuji raised his eyebrows. “Then what’s wrong? Wait, did drinking uncover your hidden phobia of hotels? I read that somewhere…”

She smiled sadly. “You’re such an idiot.”

He bared his teeth, clearly offended. “Well, I’m sorry for trying to be helpful! Jeez, if you can’t walk – just say so, I’ll carry you to our room.”

“I don’t want to go to our room!” she yelled again. Yuji’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t say anything.

“Because then we go to sleep, come back to Tokyo and—I—” She squeezed the hem of his hoodie, “and I’ll never get another chance.”

There’s a short silence after her outburst. Yuji glanced over her hands that were clenched in fists and looked to the side.

“I mean, it’s not like this is our only chance to visit Osaka, we can always book a vacation and come back here.”

“Huh? Who cares about Osaka? It's—”

“I’m not very smart,” he interrupted her quietly, “so you’ll need to be straight with me, otherwise I won’t understand what you mean.” Then, his voice got even quieter. “Or I’ll start imagining things that aren’t real.”

“Yuji, I—” she tried to speak fast, because she felt a betraying lump in her throat, “I never wanted to drag you into a bar. There was this old movie at the local theatre that we could have watched, but I—If I didn’t drink, I would have never gotten the strength to say the things that I’ve been meaning to say for a long-long time. And this trip felt like a perfect opportunity, and you’re right, I’m a lightweight and I overdid it, and I was so close to saying it, but I thought—I cherish you so, so much , Yuji, it hurts me to even think about it. I tried to tell you before, after graduation, but you distanced yourself from me that night, so I figured it was a bad idea. I still think it is, but I—Yuji, I—”

Yuji shortened the distance between them with a desperately fast sprint and grabbed her with both of his hands, squeezing her so tight that she could barely talk anymore, her face pressed into his chest. He was silent for a bit.

“I distanced myself from you during the graduation night because you looked so vulnerable. I thought you were doing things you would regret the next day, so I didn’t want to take advantage. Because when you’re like this with me, I,” his hands trembled, “It’s so hard for me not to be selfish.”

“Wait, Yuji,” she tried to move away from him, but no matter how hard she pushed, she would never win Yuji in a battle of strength. “Please, let me finish.”

“No,” he sounded uncharacteristically serious. He lowered his head and pressed his cheek to her forehead. “When you say that this is not the way I would spend my night… You can invite me to dumpster dive or read books about molecular physics in a public library, or lick poles in winter, and I’ll choose it over anything else. When I found out we would go on this mission together, I was so happy. I can be doing the grossest, most stupid, and pointless things, but if I’m with you – it would be the best way to spend all the time I have. I hate being alone, and it's all I ever felt for so many years of life. But when I met you—when I’m with you – I feel so warm. You make me forget about the bad stuff. When you’re next to me, I—I feel wanted. So please,” his hands weakened his grab on her frame, letting her lean back and catch a glimpse of his face. “Please, don’t give me false hopes.”

Their breaths were hot and shaky as they looked each other in the eyes, hypnotised by each other’s presence. She cautiously moved closer to him and cupped his cheeks. Yuji swallowed thickly, he had to stop himself, but her hand was soft and warm, and the number of times he dreamt about this exact moment didn’t let him move an inch of his body. She raised herself on her tiptoes and leaned to his lips. She smelled so sweet, and her body was so close to his that—

“Ghh, stop,” Yuji groaned and pressed his forehead to hers in agony.

“Why?” She asked breathlessly, “you don’t want this?”

“ No ! I mean, yes. God, I want this so much my head could explode, b-but,” he leaned back slightly, revealing his glowing red face, from the neck to the tips of his ears. “You’re drunk, and we’re tired and I,” he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I want this to be right. If you wake up tomorrow and don’t remember any of this, I—”

“Stop talking,” she moaned and pulled him back by the fabric of his t-shirt, crushing her lips into his, arms then moving up to snake around his neck. Yuji had to resist. He had to, but when she touched him like this, the taste of plum on her lips, and when her—

“Mhm,” Yuji groaned hopelessly, feeling her tongue explore the insides of his mouth. It was hot and wet, and he felt like his heart could stop. Suddenly, he was so putty in her hands, he would do anything for her to keep touching and kissing him like this. No, for her to do anything she wanted with him. He would make a pact with a curse and sell his soul to stay like this a little longer, or to never feel the need to breathe again, so her lips can remain sealed with his forever. Still desperate for air, however, he forced himself to pull away, a shining string of saliva stretching between their lips.

She breathed in, preparing to talk. “I—”

“No, please, don’t say it.” He pressed their foreheads together again, breathing heavily. “Allow me to be selfish. I—I want you to say it tomorrow, in the morning. So that—”

“—It’s real?” she finished for him.

“Yeah,” he smiled bashfully, looking into her eyes. He could see himself in the glassy reflection of her eyes. They were bright and kind, and they looked at him the way he never thought would ever happen. He never thought he would be close enough to her to have the chance of examining just how deep and gentle they are.

Yuji moved a hair strand away from her face. “C’mon, I’ll carry you.”

He lifted her in one motion and pressed firmly to his chest. She could hear the rapid pounding in his chest, and it made her heart race after it. Pressing her ear closer, she could almost hear his thoughts. She didn't really need to hear them, she got the general idea from how uneven were his breaths and how his fingers trembled around her form.

While they waited for the elevator inside, she looked at him.

“Can I keep kissing you?”

His face heated up for a hundredth time this night, as he diverted his gaze nervously. She could feel his hands now squeezing her a little tighter.

“Y-yeah. I would like that.”

* * *

Yuji did not know that pain can bring such an amount of happiness with it. There were two single beds in their room, but they ended up sharing one of them together, which resulted in soreness and numbness in different parts of Yuji’s body. His back ached from arching it so that he didn't fall, and he couldn’t feel his right arm anymore because he went to bed while hugging her. Not that he was complaining though. He could go to sleep on hot coals for all he cared if that meant she would lie on top of him. Feeling her body next to his sent vibrations down his spine. Suddenly, he heard her groan, and his heart fastened its pace.

Nanami Kento was right when he said that getting old is manifested in small things. One of them was getting morning sickness and headaches from any amount of drinking, moderate or otherwise. She hid her face in both of her palms and turned to the side, trying to hide from the morning sun. Sliding the palms down to her chest, she was met with Yuji’s glowing but anxious face: his hair was a mess, and there was a big imprint on his right cheek from the pillow wrinkles. She smiled softly, reaching out to fix one of his hair strands.

“Hi,” she rasped.

“Hi,” he responded, sounding relieved.

“Remind me to never drink again,” she said, turning on her back tiredly. “I lose years of my life from each hangover.”

“I mean, it’s exactly what I’m doing each time, but the strategy doesn’t seem to be working.” He chuckled, slowly getting up from the bed. “I’ll bring you an aspirin.”

Her eyes traced his features radiating in the morning sun as he made his way to the coffee table across the room. He had plenty of scars across his back and more on the chest. None of Jujutsu High students got anything close to normal school life, but Yuji certainly took the cake. And to remain so gratuitously giving and caring all while dealing with so much burden and pressure—her heart sank from just the thought.

She sat up as Yuji sat in front of her on the side of the bed, giving her a glass of fizzling water. She smiled in gratification and brought it to her lips.

“By the way, can you tell me what we ended up doing yesterday? I don’t remember shit,” she said nonchalantly before starting to gulp down the medicine.

The look on Yuji’s face filled with terror and chagrin; he felt his fingertips grow colder as he grasped the bedsheets beneath his hands. He lowered his gaze in silence, feeling the heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Meanwhile, she downed the glass and put it on her nightstand. Looking back at him, she lifted the corners of her lips.

“Kidding.”

He let out a questioning yell and grabbed a pillow, aiming a blow. “You’re so mean! Never  ever  do that shit again!”

He threw the pillow into her face, and she laughed, grabbing his hand, and pulling him on top of her. Yuji positioned his hands on both sides of her head and felt the familiar heat run up his neck to his cheeks, nose, and ears.

“Sorry,” she whispered softly.

“I’ll think about it.”

She lifted her hands and palmed his face, looking deep into his amber eyes. Yuji swallowed thickly, both of his palms twitching uncontrollably.

“Yuji.”

“Y-yeah?”

“I love you.”

The warmness from her hands went deep beyond his face. He felt her arms reach out gently into his chest and cradle his heart, calming its frantic heartbeat and holding it with such care that it sent lumps to his throat. He fought back the quivering of his lips as her thumb stroked across the scar right beneath his eye.

“I love you so  so much,” she murmured fondly, squinting from her growing smile. Yuji lowered his body closer to hers and hid his face in the crook of her neck, hugging her from behind.

“If you don’t stop, I might die.”

“Why?”

“I shouldn’t… feel this happy.”

She closed her eyes contently and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing a slow kiss to his temple. “Well, that’s not for you to decide, dumbass.”

She played with his messy hairs, breathing in his scent.

“But if you don’t reciprocate, I might die as well.”

Yuji rose sharply on his hands and leaned forward, crushing his lips into hers for a quick second.

“I love you,” he said loudly after breaking the kiss. Then he leaned in and kissed her again.

“I love you. I love you I love you I love you,” he kept repeating after kissing her over and over again. “I lov—” She interrupted him mid-sentence and took initiative, thrusting into his lips and parting them with a twirl of her tongue. He moaned and gave in, moving his head to the side.

Please, don’t leave me

I’m with you until the world collapses

[lupically]

#3B797A | XIAO.

genre | angst

word count | 1707

warning | mention of death, mention of blood, faint mention of injury

note | this was originally posted on my other writing blog, i am moving it here because... well, i have a genshin writing blog now. and, once again, this is not very good. let’s hope i get better at this!

if karmic debt is a real thing, this must be xiao’s worst one yet.

he swore he would keep an eye on you after the first time you died on him.

he has never felt anguish like it.

of all the invisible chains tied around his struggling limbs and his fragile neck, of all the pain and misery he has been put through over the years of his catastrophic life, of all the repressed memories and emotions he kept fighting back to keep his sanity at bay, he has never felt anguish and manic like he did when he saw your lifeless body on the ground with an arrow stuck to your back.

it was the worst one yet, especially when he was the reason why you ended up with a bed of bloody roses underneath you.

he swore he would keep an eye on you after that.

and then came the second time you died. that was also because of him.

the blood that trickled down your lips as you smiled at him was vivid in his memories. he was supposed to be fond of the way you felt relieved to see him there, after he had carried you behind a fallen wall so you didn’t have to see him deal with the treasure hoarders who put you in such a bad state for trying to take a pair of emerald earrings back.

he was, to a certain degree, when you choked out his name in that god-awfully brilliant voice of yours. it was faint, but he could hear the genuine happiness in you when you called his name.

you were always so excited to see him. ever since you dropped atop of him from the sky, apparently coming from nowhere, you have been happy to see him. he was undeserving of that; the chances you have given him at experiencing how soft this world can be was undeserved, but nonetheless, xiao was fond of the way you make him feel, more than he would like to admit, more than anything he has ever seen or heard or felt in this world.

you were the fondest he has ever felt. it was all you.

but the fondness goes like dust and ashes when you reached up with the pair of emerald earrings you bought him, which he dumped in the middle of the ruins because he was being petty about something insignificant he could no longer remember.

the sight of them gave him a moment of realization—you were here because of him.

and then you took your last breath—you died because of him, again.

he didn’t know how to feel when you didn’t respond to your own name. he kept calling for you—[name], wake up, he said. [name], stop playing around, you know you’re not funny, he said. [name], [name], [name]. but your eyes remained closed, so he held you close for the first time, and he exchanged the tears with apologies.

he promised he would keep an eye out for his actions after that.

yet here he was.

don’t die. please don’t die.

he dropped his spear and crouched down frantically next to you. he was still panting from the fight with the three ruin guards patrolling around fallen pillars and buildings, but what made him stress, even more, was less because of his sore body and more because of your bleeding head.

“[name]? [name], open your eyes, right now!” he said—scolded, in the voice he always talked to you with, the fondly defeated tone that showed he has surrendered his annoyance for your happiness, but with more urgency this time.

you coughed, feeling more lifeless than ever. there was a rush of deja vu back then, just a few moments ago when xiao gently laid you against the wall and left after telling you to stay still and keep your eyes open for him. it was like you have lived through this moment before, but you were hurting too much from your head wound to think into it.

xiao breathed out a sigh of relief.

thank the archons.

“hey, xiao…” you greeted with a faint smile, then you reached your hand up to give him the quingxin you picked. “flowers… got you flowers… for crowns… ”

he pursed his lips. you silly! you bone-head! why did you not just buy them from the flower shop? was what he wanted to say. even though knowing you, you would probably spill some weird argument like how flowers picked by other people wouldn’t have the same freshness and love in them, and he would say nothing because there was no winning for him when it comes to you.

he never has anything to say. nothing to go against your favors, and certainly nothing that makes you worry ever again. nothing that will get you running into forests alone to pick him flowers and risk the chance of you stumbling into ruin guards, or hilichurls, or treasure hoarders, or abyss mages.

(maybe the one you should avoid is him.)

“come on, let’s get you to the doctor, okay?” he said as he discarded the flowers at a frantic pace.

he looped your arms around his neck and hoisted you on his back. his spear sparkled next to the white flowers on the ground, reflecting a halo glow upward as if telling on him to the sky about what he did to you again. he took off running back to the city, praying to the archons that he could end your pain quicker, that he could find someone to stop the hurting faster.

but it seemed destiny had other plans.

he paused for a second to catch his breath. he did not notice the way your arms had long gone slack around his shoulders, and how you kept slipping off his back as if you could no longer support yourself. he was deliberately ignoring the details that signified your death, his delusional consciousness wishfully thinking that he would make it to the doctors in time.

“we’re getting there, [name],” he said as if he could still feel your short breath against his neck.

“you’re going to be fine, i will make sure,” he said as he began walking as if he could still feel your chest heave against his back.

“i will keep you safe next time, i promise,” he said as he leaned forward a little because your lifeless body was starting to slip off his back again.

“and then we can go pick flowers together, and you can make me flower crowns,” he croaked with guilted tears running down his cheeks, a smile on his face as if he wasn’t just given hope that he could save you this time, only to have you die on his back.

all because he said he would never put on a flower crown, and you insisted that he has to try.

(maybe the one you should avoid is him.)

the evil archon was silent when xiao appeared before it with your dead body. this was the third time. it was starting to see a pattern, and all it felt was glee that the pattern it has carefully cultivated was working in its favor.

because what better to keep the adepti under control than to make him feel indebted to itself? what better to keep the adepti under control than to keep reviving his dead lover and make him think they have a surviving chance this time around? what better to keep the adepti under control than to kill his lover and use his guilt against him every single time?

“dead again? what have you done?”

“please… help me…” xiao laid your body before the archon, which was just a statue without a face.

“reviving a human that was consumed by death takes a great deal of power, alatus.”

xiao gritted his teeth, but he said nothing when he could feel your skin under his gripping fingers. he lowered his head, pushing down the horrendous amount of anger and humiliation to the back of his mind, and he begged.

he begged for another chance to see your beautiful eyes smile under the moon again, he begged for another chance to hear you talk on and on about the wondrous world you two live in together, he begged for another chance to feel your radiant soul live near him and to let you show him around the city as if he could not already navigate through it with his eyes closed.

(he could not. he knew the concrete roads and the old stone walls, but he could never know about the smooth flower petals dancing with the wind and the tender glow of the sky everyone shared without you taking his hand and dragging him across all parts of the world.)

(just like cotton candy, you told xiao. his frown melts like cotton candy, whatever cotton candy was.)

“i’ll do anything,” he said.

“for the mortal. really.”

“i will do anything,” xiao declared again.

the golden flair in his eyes almost made the evil archon shiver.

it was radiating off of him—the heat of anguish and terror that he had once killed you, the heat of unfairness and humiliation that he has to stoop so low as to meddle with life and death, the heat of extreme affection for a lover he now has nowhere to cast upon because the sole receiver has long died in his arms.

all for a mortal. a special mortal. a mortal who has made someone who hates, love. a mortal who has made him, him who hates and scorns, love. not just themself, but everything else around him—music, flowers, lights, cities. a mortal who made sure he will always love, still, even after the sole reason for his affection is gone and he no longer has a reason to be gentle.

the archon wanted to laugh.

truly. the only thing more maleficent than love itself is the act of using it against someone.

looking at xiao right now—inadequate, fragile, chained, and so miserable.

oh, how it worked in its favor.

it has done so many things to the poor boy, but this one, oh, this would be the worst one yet.

[paper-cuts-and-fresh-bruises]

Okay, so this has been gnawing at my brain all day about 3x04 and I’ve finally gotten some free time to type it up here so let’s go. But before I start I will preface that everything I say going forward is theories/ramblings and nothing concrete, so I am not responsible for how accurate or inaccurate this ends up being, so read at your own risk. 

So obviously from the trailer for the next episode of Nancy Drew is that episode, the one that as Nace fans we’re gonna go gaga one way or another, but obviously with that trailer, as well as bits from the season 3 teaser trailer we now know are most certainly going to go in that episode, I wanted to address something. It’s been going round about the less than favourable idea of cheating being involved with Nace, and I am certainly not one to like it either. What I will say is however that we don’t even know the full situation yet and that’s where my theorising comes in. With the whole sandman/nightmare on elm street type situation we’ve got here, clearly not only are they going to be lulled into falling asleep but then that trick soon shows what seemed like dreams become very terrifying and very dangerous nightmares.

 Also, seen as the nightmares are paired with the afflicted being prone to sleepwalking, people are obviously going to end up being puppeted to do things unintentionally. Now I don’t know if the Nancy and Ace stuff is going to be in Nancy’s dreams, or Ace’s dreams, or if it’s even completely or partly a dream at all, but what I do know is that the writers and producers have not missed a beat since day one, if they were going to play the cheating card, certainly the deliberate cheating card, they would’ve done it already. The writers and producers of Nancy Drew already stated at the end of season 2 that they value Nace seriously and that the characters aren’t just going to disrespect one another like that. At the core of it if anything happens in the dream/nightmare like it seems it will, we need to remember that that’s not real world so to speak (meaning whatever the characters do isn’t a result of them doing it on their own), it’s the dream feeding into the fear of the characters; if we presume for a moment that it’s Nancy’s dream, she probably fears what her feelings could make her do and what she’s willing to allow to happen to be with Ace, and on Ace’s end if that’s his dream or he envisions something similar, his fear on that front (because the nightmares might explore multiple fears) is that his feelings for Nancy could be so powerful that his worst envisioning is the possibility of having the capability to cheat on someone instead of being honest and breaking it off before being with someone else.

Also, technically the whole cheating scenario hinges upon Ace and Amanda still being a thing, which from the vibes I’ve been getting from the start of the season, kinda seems like they split but Ace has tried to keep things on the down low and stay in touch and attempt to be on good terms, though that seems to have been failing. Whether the episode will divulge anything about that I don’t know. It certainly seems like if they have split, Ace isn’t quite ready or sure how to let people know yet, especially with the complicated Nancy feelings. Anyways, I think that anything that happens between Nancy and Ace in the episode, real or not, Nancy in particular will likely try to avoid feeding into, because if we can presume she might still not know when she asks ace what his dream was about as to his relationship status with Amanda, just on principle she’ll do the respectful thing and keep her distance until she’s sure she’s not crossing a line, just as Ace wouldn’t break that boundary until things are right. At the most their emotions are what’s going to be on the table playing this game.

Also, although part of me thinks this will end up with Nancy making herself gravitate towards Park more, ultimately Nace is where it’s at I have no doubt with what the writers have in store. By all means Nancy and Ace may only reach the point where they’re on the same page finally by the finale of this season, but the trajectory tells me we Nace fans have nothing to worry about; also part of me has been curious as to whether anything might actually happen between Nancy and Park, or whether they more so just flirt for the most part and work together,  ultimately although Nancy has a decision on her hands of Ace or Park, I think and hope that she’ll take the risk with Ace who her feelings have been most grounded in. Other than that I wanted to mention with Nancy Drew gaining viewers and season 4 already being called a “safe bet”, we’re in good hands. We’ve just got to politely pester the CW to make sure season 4 goes back to 18 episodes, because as much as 13 episodes isn’t actually that bad, I just want that back. 

[asstronauts]

quiet my fears with the touch of your hand

rating: t word count: 2.4k pairing: the homoeroticism of 200 amplified, aka jemily summary: a post-200 rewrite, in which jj spends some time in emily's arms and in the hospital instead of in a bar right after being tortured.

read on ao3, if you'd prefer

tw mention of jj's canon abduction and torture

---

A hundred feet.

Strangely enough, it wasn't the closest she'd come to death in this line of work, but now it was all that separated her dangling feet from the ground below.

She felt nothing besides Emily's arms and her heart thudding in her chest. JJ risked a glance downwards, turning her head ever so slightly to look.

Michael Hastings' body fallen. Dead.

It was over.

"You're here. It's you," JJ managed between ragged breaths as she was pulled back from the edge of the rooftop and onto solid ground. Her hands were still clinging desperately to Emily's biceps, her only lifeline while the world spun around.

“Emily,” JJ murmured, though it came out sounding more like a question. She needed to be sure. After hours of torture at the hands of Tivon Askari, and after the intense pursuit of Michael Hastings onto the rooftop, her friend’s comforting presence seemed almost unbelievable.

Emily inhaled sharply and reached out to move JJ's hair back. The blonde flinched instinctively, then slowly relaxed into Emily's touch. It was nothing like Askari's rough hands. It was tender — a soft brush across her cheekbone to wipe away a tear she hadn't even realized was there. The gentle caress grounded her, letting her know she was here and that somehow, against all odds, she was still alive, safely kneeling with Emily on this concrete rooftop a hundred feet high.

JJ could hardly bring herself to look around. She didn’t recognize the building he’d taken her to. It was in D.C, that much she could be sure of, but the air felt different now that she was free from Askari’s grasp. Fresher somehow. Below her, the city lights blinked on, unaware of the terrifying ordeal that had just happened. And in front of her, Emily.

Emily's hand was warm. Or perhaps JJ was just freezing. There was a chill in her bones that had remained since she'd seen Askari's face, a cold she couldn’t quite escape.

"You're here," JJ repeated, her voice steadier but still quiet. She shivered against the concrete, her shallow breaths visible in the cold night air.

"So are you." Their eyes met, and JJ found Emily's filled with concern, with relief, with love. They carefully searched JJ's face to make sure she was okay.

Emily's gaze landed on the blonde's unbuttoned shirt, and she furrowed her brow, the hard lines in her face deliberating a question she didn't want to ask.

JJ shook her head and drew back slightly. He didn't, she wanted to say.

He didn't, but she could still feel his hands on her, all over her. He didn't, but she could still hear his voice saying, "Maybe I can make you one. Another one." He didn't, but...

"It's okay," Emily murmured in a soothing voice. She noted the look on JJ’s face, but didn’t press further. “You’re okay now. You’re safe.” Her heart broke at the way the woman clenched her jaw and avoided Emily’s fixed stare.

JJ gave a stiff nod of permission as Emily reached out, gently beginning to button the shirt back up. JJ licked her lips and forced her fingers to relax their grip as she tried to speak again — to say something, anything.

"Cruz...is he-"

"He'll be fine."

"And everyone else?"

"Everyone's okay." Emily looked up as she finished with the shirt. “They’re waiting downstairs with the ambulances whenever you’re ready.”

“How did you find me?”

“We...we looked into everything from when you were in Afghanistan. Your backstop.” Emily tried to meet JJ’s eyes, but they were staring guiltily at the ground. “No more secrets please, JJ.”

“No more secrets,” she echoed back. “Only the truth from now on.”

JJ opened her mouth as if to say more, then shook her head and furrowed her brow.

Emily knew there were questions she was avoiding, trying to ask about the team to dismiss any concerns over her own wellbeing. Denial was ingrained in her nature — a habit she had perfected so well, she sometimes managed to fool herself.

The younger agent stood unsteadily and pretended to inspect her top as she took a moment to collect herself. "We should head down then," she mumbled, crossing her arms as another shiver ran up her body.

"You're allowed to take a moment, JJ," Emily said softly and rose to stand in front of her. "Take your time."

JJ bit her lip and shook her head ever so slightly. If she took even a breath to process all that had happened in the last 24 hours, the inevitable breakdown would come rushing over her, and she feared she'd never be able to stop.

"You're okay now," Emily said again, reaching her arms out and allowing JJ to collapse into them. The blonde buried her face in the crook of Emily's neck as gentle but strong arms wrapped around her body.

From the moment Hotch had called her about the news of JJ's disappearance, Emily's heart had been gripped by an intense fear over the other woman's safety. The thought of JJ in danger, of JJ hurt, of JJ on the brink of death had been too overwhelming to bear.

The panic had fueled her to find everything she could on Tivon Askari, to do everything she could to fight for JJ’s life. But the anxiety that had built up during Emily's flight over was only just now beginning to subside, as she reassured herself of JJ's safety.

"You're okay, you're okay," Emily whispered as she rubbed comforting circles on JJ's back.

She's okay.

---

45...46...47...48...

Emily concentrated hard on counting the hospital floor tiles, whatever she could to keep from thinking of her friend having just been tortured. She’d read the files on Askari, and she knew exactly what JJ had gone through. The drugs, the physical abuse, the waterboarding, the electrocution. It made her burn with uncharacteristic anger, made her wish this man had received a fate worse than death for hurting JJ. And from the look she’d seen on JJ’s face, there was far more to the story than just what Emily had read.

The situation had left the rest of the team a headache-inducing amount of paperwork, but Hotch had insisted that someone be present when JJ woke up. All eyes had landed on Emily, with Penelope demanding she be called immediately after, no matter the time of night.

It was late now, but Emily still felt restless. She picked furiously at her nails, counting and recounting the tiles over and over again until a voice broke her thoughts.

"Emily? She wants to see you."

Emily looked up and mouthed a silent thank you to the doctor, not quite trusting herself to speak aloud.

A wave of relief washed over her as she walked into the hospital room, and blue eyes turned to meet her.

"You're here."

Emily managed a sort of strangled sound in reply, a noise somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

"I'm still here," she breathed, reaching out her hand to grasp JJ's. It was icy cold, but just warm enough to reassure Emily that JJ was alive.

"I wasn't sure...I've been seeing things," JJ mumbled. "I saw you, or I thought I did. Before I saw you, I mean."

JJ shook her head, trying to clear the cloud from her incoherent thoughts as Emily creased her eyebrows in confusion.

She exhaled and tried again. "It doesn't matter. But you...you really came all the way here for me."

"You'd do the same for me," Emily replied. "Hell, you already did the same for me."

Their eyes met.

Paris.

Emily remembered everything — the long nights that never seemed to end, the two of them exploring every street and shop, the night JJ had grabbed her hand and pulled her into an alleyway, and they'd stood unbelievably close, eyes shining in the moonlight with exhilaration...

She wondered if JJ remembered everything too.

"How long do you have here?" JJ asked.

Emily bit her lip. "A few hours." Not long enough.

"Do you have to go?" came JJ’s quiet voice. Emily had asked the same question that night in Paris.

They’d let the question hang unanswered then too, both too afraid to admit that they were running, not just leaving. Because staying would mean confronting the intensity of their feelings for one another, and that was somehow more terrifying than anything they’d ever faced in the field.

Besides, Emily's expression said more than her words could.

“How are you feeling?” Emily asked instead of answering.

“It hurts,” JJ said simply.

Emily’s grip around her hand tightened protectively. "I know," she whispered.

JJ began to trace delicate circles along Emily's knuckles with her thumb, eyes slightly unfocused. She could feel her mind already struggling, tendrils of flashbacks lurking beneath the surface. The pain in her side seemed to intensify, and her breath caught slightly.

"Hastings and Askari are dead." Her voice came out raw and louder than intended, as though she was still convincing herself of the fact.

JJ took a shuddering breath and shivered as a chill went up her spine.

Cold. Why was the room so cold?

She felt, rather than saw, everything around her shift as a sudden sense of dread overwhelmed her in the haze. Dark. Cold. Alone.

Alone, except for him. The shadow of Tivon Askari loomed in front of her, and a bolt of pain and panic wracked her body.

“Come back to me, JJ.”

She blinked.

“I wasn’t..I-It wasn’t a full flashback or anything,” JJ stuttered. “I’m fine.”

“It’s okay, just breathe.”

JJ sat for a moment until the pounding in her chest subsided, painfully aware of the heart monitor’s rapid beeping. She focused her attention on Emily’s hand in hers.

“I’m fine,” JJ repeated quietly.

"I know it doesn't feel like it yet," Emily replied. "It takes time, but I promise one day, you’ll be okay. You’ll feel safe again."

Emily moved her free hand to touch JJ’s shoulder, capturing her full attention so that the blonde could read the sincerity in her eyes.

“What do I do till then?”

"You could get a tattoo. We could match," Emily said lightly.

"Blackbird," JJ mused with a tired smile.

She remembered the day that Emily had shown her the tattoo, how she had stared in amazement at the beautiful ink that somehow both covered and showed off Emily's scars from her encounter with Doyle. Even then, she had been slightly wary, but Emily had taken her hand and guided her fingers to graze the tattoo, showing her that scars weren’t something to be afraid of.

The bruises and lacerations would fade. The electrical burns would leave a mark. JJ could feel their sting now, marring her skin with ugly scars. Perhaps she could get a tattoo to cover them up, but there was only so much she could hide. Beneath it all, there’d still be a heavy burden, an invisible wound she’d have to carry day to day, case to case, for the rest of her life.

They sat, hand in hand again now, letting the presence of each other be enough. JJ's thumb was still tracing its way across the familiar landscape of Emily's hand, one that the blonde had long since memorized. In those moments, with Emily holding her hand, it felt like everything was okay. Yet there was a feeling of horrid anticipation, like the teetering at the top of a rollercoaster, where the burning in her stomach told her that the moment Emily let go and left for London, time would inevitably start again, and everything would fall quickly and suddenly, collapsing into a wild frenzy despite Emily’s words of comfort.

“I don’t want you to go. I need you here,” JJ murmured.

She wasn’t sure if it was the exhaustion or the medication talking, but she hadn’t quite realized the truth behind the statement until she’d said it aloud. JJ tried it again, her voice barely a whisper. “I need you.”

The admission hung in the air unanswered for a moment, and JJ’s mind raced, wondering if she’d made a mistake.

Emily didn’t speak, staring hard at the hospital blankets as if they would tell her the meaning behind what JJ had said. Part of her wanted to scream with joy at the idea that JJ wanted her near. But the other part of her shrunk back in fear, wanting to flee across an entire ocean once again to run from her emotions. She was terrified of what she felt towards JJ — an affection more intense and overwhelming than anything she’d ever experienced before. Without it, she’d be lost. She couldn’t risk that; it was too fragile to be tampered with, too precious to even be acknowledged.

“I saw you,” JJ began rambling, unable to bear the silence. “When they were trying to get my codes, I thought I saw you. I guess my mind just needed something or someone to hold on to. You should’ve been a million miles away, but some part of me knew that you’d come. That I’d be okay because you were coming.”

“JJ-“

“I knew it’d be you. It’s always going to be you.”

“I can’t...” Emily began, but the fear choked her and kept her from finishing her sentence.

“I know you have to go.” JJ’s grip tightened as her voice broke. “Will you stay until I fall asleep? Say goodbye now so I don’t have to watch you leave.”

A lump rose in Emily’s throat. Tell me to stay again. Tell me to stay for you, and I’ll leave it all, she wanted to say. But her cowardice won in the end.

Instead, Emily nodded and sat next to the bed as JJ closed her eyes.

---

JJ awoke to an empty hospital room. The pain in her side flared, and tears sprung to her eyes as everything she had experienced hit her full force.

The fluorescent lights blinked back at her from above, and the only noises she could hear were the gentle beeping of a heart monitor and her own shallow breathing.

One hand lay across her torso, the other gripped the hospital bed sheets as though she’d been holding onto something, to someone. She could've sworn...

She’s not here.

No, Emily was in London, thousands of miles away. There was no way, right?

She wouldn’t have come and then left her, not again. JJ pulled her hand in and held it to her chest, as she bit back a cry.

It must have been another hallucination. It had to be.

Any other way would hurt too much.

[weelittleweasley]

Amnesia (p1) | Draco x Reader

Prompt: The Battle of Hogwarts was one that was hard on everyone mentally and physically. During the war, you took a brutal fall, hitting your head, which caused you to lose your memory, amnesia if you will. You forget a solid chunk of your life, specifically your last few years at Hogwarts and the relationships you made with certain people, including your romantic relationship with Draco Malfoy. What happens in Part One of this multipart series?

Warnings: language, violence, blood, memory loss, death, mentions of PTSD, anxiety

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: This story is not about romanticizing mental health issues. These are serious conditions and this story is not meant to romanticize or fantasize these topics. It’s used as a vessel to convey a different story. That being said, please take care of yourself and sending everyone lots of love. Enjoy part one :)

Flashbacks told in italics! 

War, chaos, violence, and then silence. Peace. The rubble had fallen, the chains had been broken, and the dust had settled. But things weren’t over. No, quite the opposite. This was just the beginning of it all.

Hogwarts, as you knew it, was falling to the ground. Everywhere you looked around you saw stones falling, students running, flashes of light and fire, the echoes of screams, yet the only thing on your mind was finding him. Finding the blonde boy who you loved so much your bones shook and you heart ached. You ran through the halls, dodging falling stones and avoiding spells, curses, and hexes from wands. Your breath was uneven as you ran down the stairs, screaming at the top of your lungs, your throat burning, “Draco!” 

As you ran down the hall, your body collided with that of your closest friend. “(Y/N), you have to run, get out of here, Draco is gone, there’s no use searching for him,” Ron grabs your face in his hands, desperately trying to shake some sense into you. He searched your eyes for any sense of hope; he needed it now more than ever. His face was covered in dried blood and fresh blood, his hands covered in dirt and his eyes full of panic. He needed you to survive this war, if it was the last thing he could do. “Listen to me,” he shakes you as you let a sob escape your lips. “Draco is gone. Okay? He left.”

You shake your head ferociously. “He wouldn’t do that, he’s here. He’s waiting for me. He told me he would wait for me and he’d see me at the end of this,” you yell at Ron, your ribs aching and knees weak. You’d recall when Draco furiously kissed your lips hours before this all dissolved into madness, telling you to stay where you were and he’d come back for you. Draco promised that you both would run away from this and go somewhere you couldn’t be found. Away from his father, away from the Dark Lord, away from magic, away from it all. He wanted to escape just as badly, if not more than you. “I need to find him,” you pushed Ron off with all the might you could muster in your frail body. “Draco!” you scream again, your voice cracking, too weak to echo anymore.

Ron grabs you by the waist now, pulling you away as you kick and scream in his grip, demanding he let you go. “I’m not letting you get killed!” Ron yelled. “I already lost Fred and I’m not losing you too!” he screams, his voice cracking with anger and fear. “Hermione, help!” Ron calls to Hermione who grabs your fists that pound on Ron’s chest.

“Let me go!” you sob, breaking down under the grip of your two close friends, completely losing yourself to your emotions. “I need to find Draco,” you manage to speak in between sobs, choking on your own tears and cries. “He could be dead for all I know! Please let me find him,” you grab onto the collar of Ron’s shirt, begging him, staring into his eyes as tears pour out of yours. “I need to find him. He could be out there, looking for me, calling for me. I need him, Ron, let me go, let me go find him!”

Hermione wraps you in her arms, trying to get you to stop crying as they pull you behind a wall. She whispers in your ear that you needed to protect yourself. You couldn’t worry about Draco anymore. He was a lost cause. But how could you forget about him? This was the man you loved so violently that you would die before you let anything bad happen to him. He was your one and only and you knew that the day he kissed you for the first time. “You need to stay here. Right here. You understand me? This is a matter of your life and death, do you understand?” Hermione scolds you. “Under no circumstances do you run for anyone. You run for your life if someone tries to kill you. You fight back. But under no circumstances do you do anything else, do you understand me?” she yells at you, needing you to understand that you needed to survive this.

With a shaky breath, you nod. Hermione looks at Ron before Hermione runs back to the chaos, flicking her wand, sending beams at Death Eaters, protecting the students. Ron looks at you, tears still in his eyes as you hold back your sobs. Ron engulfs you in a large hug before pressing a firm kiss to your forehead. “I need you to live. Please,” he begs you, clinging onto every last bit of hope he has. “I’ll find you at the end of this and we’ll be okay.” You shake your head, giving him a tight hug again. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you tell him before he joins Hermione, running off protecting her and fellow students.

So there you stood behind the concrete wall, looking around as others fought and got struck. People were getting killed all around you and you were being suffocated by the sight. Why were you just standing here not fighting back? Deliberately disobeying Ron and Hermione’s orders, you run from the wall, flicking your wand swiftly, pushing back Death Eaters, defending yourself and other students. You stood proudly beside your fellow classmates, slashing your wands, casting spells and fighting the good fight. 

As you fight alongside your classmates, you turn your head, keeping a 360 on the area. But that’s when you see him. His blonde hair covered in dirt, his concerned face looking behind him as his mother and father guide him away from the scene, across the bridge. From a distance, you see him look in your direction as your heart sinks. He was leaving without you. 

“Draco,” you whisper, forgetting about everything in the world and focusing on him. “Draco!” you scream with every last fiber in your body. You launch yourself into a run down the stairs and towards the bridge. You push people out of your way in a beeline for your love, hoping that he’ll stop for you, but he doesn’t. His parents keep an iron grip on him, pulling him along the bridge. Draco turns around, seeing you run as he tries to writhe out of his mother’s grip. His face is full of concern, but he can’t escape. His father puts his body in front of Draco’s as Draco screams out in pain and fury. “Draco!” you yell.

Your feet carry you as fast as possible as you run toward the bridge, trying to get to him as quickly as possible before it was too late. Draco claws at his father, trying to get past him. As you run you feel your breath becoming short and your lungs burn, but you ignore the sensation and push. You need to get to him. He needed to get to you. You needed to save each other. 

But that all came to a screeching halt when you name being yelled out in horror by Draco. “(Y/N), watch out!” someone screams a blood curdling scream as you look up to see a large rock come crashing down. 

And that’s when it went white. Your hearing gave out. You went numb. There was silence. Deafening. Palpable. The silence screamed for a million years and then a million more. 

But then there was a roar. Your ears rung and yelled. Your brain thumped against your skull, your lungs burned like you swallowed ash, and your mouth tasted of metal and dirt. You repeated told yourself to open your eyes, but you couldn’t. You tried again and again, but nothing. All you could sense was ringing in your ears and muffled voices. Who was it? Who was talking? You couldn’t understand anyone or what they were saying. It all sounded like a different language. What happened?

Even though your brain was running at a thousand miles an hour, you crashed. Your senses gave out and the silence was back. Deafening. Palpable. The silence screamed again for another million years.

But this time there was a roar and your eyes shot wide open. You sucked in a large breath like you couldn’t breathe before. Your lungs swelled with oxygen, but hurt when you took deep breaths. It took you a second before you felt the rupture of pain that carried from the back of your head to the front. You sucked in a sharp breath, placing a hand where it hurt the most. 

As you looked down, you noticed the white sheets covering your body and the small hospital bed you lied down in. Thin hospital robe on your body and on your arm stuck out multiple IVs and monitors. You heard your heart rate monitor picks up speed as your anxiety grew with every passing second. What happened to you? Why were you in the hospital? Who brought you here? 

When you try to remember what happened to you, you can’t recall a single thing. You can’t even pinpoint what your last memory was, they all just mesh together. Before you can think about what is going on, the door opens up and a Healer’s assistant walks in. “You’re up,” she smiles. “Hello, (Y/N). How are you feeling?” she has a bright grin and calming eyes. This puts you at ease.

“My head hurts,” you respond.

She gives you a knowing smile. “I’m sure it does. You got severely concussed a few days ago,” she grabs a clipboard from the side table and starts scribbling down notes and checking your vitals.

Your eyes go wide, “A few days ago?” you speak bewildered.

The Healer’s assistant takes your temperature with a muggle thermometer before handing you a glass of water. “Yes, a few days ago,” she confirms. “You were in and out of consciousness a few times before you woke up today. Just to put your mind at ease, you have a few broken ribs, that’s why it may be a little hard to breathe and a sprained wrist. We administered you a healing potion, so you should be fully recovered in a few days, but you should still monitor yourself. Your brain, however, is still bruised.” She places down the clipboard and walks back to the door. “Let me tell the Healer that you’re awake. In the meantime, I think there are some people who want to see you.”

You sit up in bed and patiently wait for your visitors. The door swings open and in floods your mother and father. “Mum, Dad,” you smile as they both have tears in their eyes when they see you. They hurry to your side, crying into your hospital gown, kissing your face, thanking Merlin that you were alright. You hold onto them tight, afraid to let them go, as you let a few happy tears fall from your eyes. 

“We thought you were dead,” your mother looks at you as you wipe her tears away, holding onto her and your dad’s hands. “Thank Merlin they got you to the hospital as fast as they could. Madam Pomfrey had taken good care of you before they brought you here,” she tells you. “I can’t believe you are alright.”

You spent a few hours with your parents, the Healer coming in a few times, speaking about how you had to take it easy and how you are lucky to be alive. Your father and mother, however, were acting a little strange whenever they spoke to the Healer. One would get up and speak to him in hushed tones as the other distracted you with conversation, but you couldn’t help but be curious as to what they were leaving you out of. What was going on?

“Mum?” you ask her as your dad whispers to the Healer. “What are they taking about?” you question. She just brushed it off and says he just wants to know how quickly your recovery would be. You knew she was lying, but rather than implore for answers, you let it be. You were tired. 

A few more hours past when the Healer’s assistant from earlier came back in. “Hi, (Y/N), visitor hours are almost done, but you have a few more people who came in to see you,” she tells you as you furrow your brows. She motions her hand to let the visitors in.

When the visitor’s step in it takes you a second to register who they were. Your brain was trying to put names to their faces. You knew that you knew them. You felt your excitement grow when you saw them. You could tell that you had a deep connection to them because when they saw you, both of them started sobbing tears of joy. The girl with fluffy brown hair covered her mouth to conceal her sobs, but a large smile was on her face. Beside her the ginger boy stood, taller in stature but tears running down his face as he silently cried when he saw you. “You’re alright,” he whispers.

Your parents give you and these visitors some privacy, leaving the room so it’s just you three. You stay silent, but a smile is on your face. What are your names? The boy slowly approaches your bedside, sitting next to you, and gently grabbing your hand. He squeezes it and brings another hand to brush the hair out of your eyes. His touch was loving and delicate, handling you with the utmost care. That’s when it hit.

“Ron fucking Weasley,” you laugh as he joins in, pressing his forehead against yours. Ron laughs and cries against you as you cup his cheek gently. It felt like forever since you saw him. You give his hand a squeeze before pulling away and looking at the girl. “Thought I forgot about you, Granger? Get in here,” you speak as she laughs and joins the small group hug, still making sure not to hurt you. The three of you sit and cry and laugh for what feels like hours. “Where have you all been?” you ask with a smile. 

Hermione laughs, “Well, for starters, you’ve been out for four days since your injury.” She rubs your arm. “We’ve all been really worried about you. Harry, too, but he’s also in recovery right now. You’ll see him as soon as you’re discharged from the hospital.”

You nod, the image of Harry Potter popping up at the mention of his name, significant memories flooding back into your brain of him. You think of year four when you had a crush on him briefly during the Triwizard Tournament and you smile at the memory. You also remember Ron teasing you about it after that crush died out, Harry laughing along with you both. Then a question pops up in your mind. “You guys,” you start. “How did I get injured? The Healer told me it’s mostly a head injury, but I don’t remember it. Did you see it happen?”

Ron and Hermione uncomfortably shift in their seats as Hermione shakes her head to Ron, letting him explain what happened. “During the battle, you were running for Draco when a piece of rubble came crashing down and hit you in the head,” Ron explains gently and slowly, making sure not to disturb any trauma that could be sprung up from the horrific scene. Ron recalls watching it unfold and the wind being knocked out of him as it happened. Ron remembers running to your side, screaming for someone to help pick you up and get you to Madam Pomfrey. Ron shakes the memory away and breathes in deeply. Recalling the day was too emotional for him and it happened to recently for him to relive it. He was careful with his words, stroking your hand as he explained what happened.

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Wait, hold on,” you laugh. “Battle? Is that like a new name for a quidditch match or something? I know that I play quite aggressive during games, but I didn’t think it was going to hospitalize me.” As you attempt to crack a joke, Hermione and Ron’s eyes go wide before they look at each other in fear. It was worse than they had thought. “What?” you asked, the concern raising in your voice. “What are you hiding from me?”

Hermione gulps, “Do you not remember the war?” The scoots closer to your bed, seeing if you were playing a joke on them, but you were deadly serious.

“War?” you repeat. “About what? Is He back?” you question, wondering if the Dark Lord was back. You remember Cedric Diggory’s death like it was yesterday, Harry yelling on the field over his dead body that the Dark Lord had returned. Hermione and Ron stutter, trying to find the words. “What’s going on? Are you guys playing a sick joke on me?” you start to frantically ask. “Did Fred and George put you up to this?” At the mention of Fred’s name, Ron instantly tenses and his breath hitches in his throat. Hermione rubs his back, comforting him, holding him close to her as if something happened to Fred. What was going on? Confusion darted through your brain. “I need to go take a breather for a second,” Ron sighs, rising from his chair. “I’m glad you’re awake, (Y/N).” Ron kisses your forehead before walking to the other side of your hospital room, opening the window for some fresh air.

Hermione looks back at you and grabs a hold of both of your hands. “(Y/N), I need you to be completely honest with me like I am being with you right now. What do you remember from Hogwarts? List out the last few things you remember. I need to know,” she pleads, looking deep into your eyes searching.

Your breath picks up as your lungs fill with oxygen, burning from the rapid movement. Your heart rate sky rockets and the back of your head starts to tingle in pain again like it did when you first woke up. Trying to recall your memories, your brain feels like it’s being squeezed. Not much comes up. “I don’t know, ‘Mione,” you tell her. “I remember Cedric’s death, I remember going home for the summer that year, I remember coming back to school and Harry being on edge because no one believed him about the Dark Lord, I remember that twat Umbridge,” you tell her, “but after that the rest is a blur...” Hermione looks at Ron who’s eyes are wide in disbelief. It was much worse than they thought. “What in the bloody hell is this war you’re talking about?” 

Ron looks to Hermione and then looks to you and says, “(Y/N), what year of Hogwarts are we in?” 

You take a second to think. If your memory and your timeline serves you right, you were in year five. “Year five...it’s 1995...why?” you respond. Wasn’t it obvious?

“Bloody hell, this isn’t good,” Ron runs his hands through his hair. Your eyes widen and your heart rate picks up, lungs burning from the rapid inhalations you were breathing in and out. Your head was pounding now. What was happening? Were you wrong? You were sixteen, right? How could you be mistaken? Ron paces back and forth as Hermione remains deadly still. Did your parents not tell you?

The more you think, the more your head hurts. “Wait a second,” you stop the small chatter between Ron and Hermione. “You said I hurt my head because I was running to Draco Malfoy?” you ask as your close friends shake their heads. “Why? I’ve had a total of four conversations with him. Why would I be running after him?”

And that’s when the severity of the situation hit Granger and Weasley. “Go get the Healer,” Hermione commands Ron as he dashes out of the room. “You are being honest with us, right?” she asks as you rapid shake your head. Why would I be lying? “(Y/N), you cannot freak out about this, okay?” she looks at your heart monitor as it beeps quickly, picking up the pace with every passing second. “Okay,” she breathes out. “Listen to me,” she grabs your hands, squeezing them. As she does so, Ron enters back in with the Healer from before. They observe what Hermione does. “(Y/N), you are eighteen. Hogwarts had a battle against Voldemort where many people died and sacrificed themselves for the greater good. That’s where you got injured. You were running to Draco to find him because he-”

“Hold on,” the Healer stops Hermione. “Don’t overflow her with information, she can have an aneurysm from the anxiety and overstimulation.” Hermione rises from her chair as the Healer replaces her seat. “(Y/N), I need you to look at me and breathe. Try to relax yourself.”

At this point you are hyperventilating. “What is going on? Did I miss two years of my life? How long was I asleep for? What war happened? Is this what you and my parents were talking about before? Are you all lying to me?” you start to panic. You look around, needing to get out, out of this room, out of this gown, out of your own head. You felt like you were being tortured from the inside out. “Get these fucking tubes out of me,” you claw your arm as the Healer grabs your hands in attempt to cease your manic movements.

“I need you to listen to me, I will give you the answers you want, (Y/N), okay?” he attempts to reason with you as you try to wiggle out of his grip. “I will tell you what you want to know. Hermione and Ron will be with you the whole time. None of us are lying to you, okay? You just need to trust us,” the Healer speaks slowly as not to rile you up.

Slowly, you let your breathing even out as you lay back in bed, looking at Ron and Hermione. You give them scared looks as Ron grabs your hands, giving them a squeeze, Hermione sitting herself next to you on the bed. “Okay.”

The Healer takes a deep breath in and starts. “You are eighteen, recently graduated from Hogwarts. Hogwarts went through the second wizarding war, which you fought in very bravely. In the midst of it, you saw someone you loved and you ran over to him and got a nasty head injury. The head injury has caused you to have something called temporary amnesia or memory loss. That being said, you can’t remember the past two years of your life,” he tells you.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You don’t know what to say or do. You just sit in shock as your mouth goes dry. You feel like you’re going to vomit, pass out, scream, cry, or all of the above. How could this just happen to you? You just forgot everything that happened over the past two years? So much could have happened and yet you couldn’t recall an ounce of it. You only remembered up to year five and then your brain just shut you out. Your body was working against you. “What?” you ask breathlessly, tears starting to pool in your eyes as the Healer gives you the sorriest look you have ever seen. “I-I-I don’t understand how can my brain just forget?”

“I’m so sorry you are going through this,” the Healer tells you as you look to Ron and Hermione who are starting to cry now. This couldn’t be happening. “But that being said, this amnesia is temporary. It will wear off, but we don’t know when. It can just come back one day and that can be scary, I know. But you have great resources and friends and family and a boyfriend who will help you navigate through this. I will give you a minute to talk to your friends,” the Healer squeezes your arm before leaving the room.

As the door closes behind him, you erupt into sobs. Hermione cradles you in her chest as violent sobs rippled through your body, causing pain to shoot through every fiber in your body, but you didn’t care. Your brain didn’t work like it should and that was a horrifying thought. Why you? Why you of all people? Why was this happening? Who did this to you? How could this happen? Who let it happen? Too many questions danced in your head that you were unable to answer.

Ron pulls your head up to look at him. “We’re going to get through this,” he tells you. “You have me, you have Hermione, you have Harry, you have your parents, you have our friends,” he smiles at you.

“What did the Healer mean when he said I have a boyfriend? Who? Why can’t I remember him?” you speak through sniffles. You had a feeling that your boyfriend was a certain someone, but the thought of him being your romantic interest made your stomach churn.

Your two friends gulp, trying to figure out how to navigate this situation. “You know how I said you ran over to Draco Malfoy when you got hit?” Hermione says. “It’s him. Draco Malfoy is your boyfriend.”

That’s when you think your heart is going to fall out of your stomach. You could only pinpoint a few memories of him throughout what you can remember. You remember Draco being cruel and mean to you and your friends. He called Hermione a mudblood, he teased Ron relentlessly, he always had a bone to pick with Harry, and he made fun of you until you cried multiple times. How could you love someone like him?

Almost as if one cue, the Healer’s assistant came back in and said, “(Y/N), visitor’s hours are over in twenty minutes, but there is someone in the waiting room for you. He insists that he knows you and he’s your boyfriend. The name is Draco Malfoy.”

Everyone and the air freezes. He was here. He came to see you. He didn’t forget about you, but you certainly did with him. Although he was one of the last people you wanted to see right now, there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach that told you to let him in. He may have the answers you need. Ron and Hermione insist that she turns him away, but you halt their demands, you saying, “Bring him in. I want to see him.”

She nods and leaves the room as Ron and Hermione just look at you shocked, knowing that this is not going to end well for anyone. “Why did-”

“Because I want to know if he has answers,” you simply state, eyes not moving from the door. If Draco really was your boyfriend, then he should know you better than yourself. Maybe Draco could bring back your memory. Maybe he could help you recover quicker. Then his nightmare would be over. 

The door swings open and there he stood, in all black, hair disheveled, a worried look on his face. Draco looked sick. He was pale and looked thin, almost sickly. When his eyes meet yours, tears fill his eyes and a soft smile appears on his face. “Darling,” he breathes out as he steps closer to you. Ron and Hermione instinctively stand up to protect you as he looks over to them, at first angry, but then he sees the looks on their faces and that’s when his fear worsens. He understands with just a look. The situation was worse than he had thought. He thought you would wake up and you would pick up from where you left off. He had explaining to do, but he was ready to work it through with you. But this situation was one he was not prepared for. Draco looks back at you and says, “You...don’t...”

“No,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry, Draco, but I don’t know you like you think I do.”

In that moment, all of Draco’s memories of you flooded his mind. The first time he remembered thinking that he liked you. You were in the room of requirement when Umbridge busted Potter and you had a horrified, yet angry look on your face. As you left the room, you pushed Draco out of the way, looking at him with a disgusted face. 

“You’re despicable, Malfoy,” you spit at him.

Draco let a smirk appear on his face as he bit his lip. “If you want me that badly, (Y/L/N), you should just come to my room tonight,” he spoke, eyes raking you up and down, knowing it would annoy you.

You rolled your eyes before stomping on his foot, him wincing in pain as the boys around him laughed. “If you want to get slapped next time, you should have just asked,” you mimic him. “You’re deplorable.”

Although the memory was not a happy one, Draco was fond of it because he knew you were hard to get and Draco lived for the chase. He knew you could hold your own and not depend on him for everything; you were independent and he found that irresistible. It wasn’t long after that that he had asked you on a date, starting a rollercoaster of relationship. You were there for him in his darkest times, in the hours where he felt himself slipping away, but you were always there to pull him back out and show him the light to which he was forever indebted to you. 

Draco knew that he had no greater love than the love he had found with you and if he had to fight like hell for it, then he would, the rest of the world be damned. 

So there he was, standing in front of you in a hospital bed, the sight already making him sick to his stomach. He looked over to Ron and Hermione as if to ask them to give him some alone time with you. Your two friends looked back at you, to which you nodded, them giving your hands a squeeze before leaving the hospital room.

Now you were alone, staring at the boy in front of you who you were supposed to know everything about and him to you. But instead, your mind drew blank. You couldn’t remember anything about him besides what you had known up to year five. You got no feeling of excitement when you saw him in comparison to the reaction you had when you saw Ron and Hermione. You didn’t feel like you had a connection with him. You just felt numb. Tingling from exhaustion and burning with pain in your head and lungs. So badly you wanted to close your eyes and go to sleep, hoping that this was a sick dream and when you woke up things would be okay. 

“You remember nothing?” he asks, blue eyes like the ocean brimming with tears that threatened to pool over, but disappeared when he took a deep breath in, his attempt to remain strong in front of you. 

“I remember up to year five,” you correct him. “I don’t remember any of our relationship,” you confess.

This makes Draco’s heart plummet into his stomach, but he tries to not show it on his face. He slowly tries to approach your bed and reach for your hand, hoping that his touch would make you remember something, anything. But when he extends his hand out to touch you, you pull away, looking at him way too confused and scared to touch him back. You barely know who he was, why would you want to touch him? As if this whole situation couldn’t get any worse. He had run away from his mother after his father was taken to Azkaban, in hopes to find you and fulfill the dreams that you two had of running away from this place and magic to start a new life together. A clean slate. But his dreams came crashing down from around him. Now Draco had to pick up the pieces and build everything back up exactly as it was. Or else he didn’t know what he’d do. Draco had poured everything into this relationship of yours just for it all to be thrown away due to a nasty head injury. This had to be a sick joke crafted by his father in some way shape or form. But he wished it was that simple.

Draco shakes his head, “Right.” 

You look at the deeply broken boy in front of you and you feel sorry for him. Even though you cannot remember anything about your romantic history, your heart aches for him. This must be difficult to go through. Someone you love not know who you are. What kind of sick torture. “I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I wish I could remember.”

He offers you a sad smile, “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” You just nod your head as the two of you stay in this silence for a moment. “It’ll come back, right? Your memories?”

Nodding gently, you speak, “That’s what the Healer said.”

Draco sits in that moment, knowing that there was hope for you and your relationship. But it was just a matter of if he was willing to fight for it.

To be continued

[dontcallmecarrie]

Replying to @kine-iende​ [hope this works and you see it, still trying to get the hang of how tags work] who said:

Thank you, author-person, for this incredible detailed answer. (Also i don't mind being tagged - or not) With Tony being so aware of the dynamic between those rivals, Justin ending as a villian is less going a betrayal from almost-family and more of a 'natural phenomen' he should have seen coming. Because as always:rivals ^^

.

To be completely honest, if this AU were a tv show the ‘Justin Hammer accidentally founded Cabal’ reveal would’ve been the huge plot twist revealed at the end of either Season 2 or 3, and it’d be a major shocker for the Avengers...but not Tony.

also just realized I somehow made an AU where the protagonist basically becomes a villain out of Spite™ and I’m not sure if that’s the weakest origin story ever, or what

After all, if this were a tv show, it’d be centered around the Avengers, and the main season one conflict would be in seeing how Tony fits in the team— which would get resolved eventually, but not before the audience gets a good look at their dynamics. Like, the chemistry between Iron Man and Captain America, how easily and seamlessly they work together without needing more than a word or two because they’re on the same page, or Tony’s cordial yet distant academic respect for Bruce [which gets contrasted with Iron Man’s uncharacteristic instant bromance with the Hulk], or... well, the list goes on.

Not to mention that having a common enemy alters their dynamic as time goes on, because while if this’d been a one-off things would’ve still been rocky between Tony and the team, whereas having to constantly coordinate because new intel indicates that their last enemy was actually connected to something bigger and that means even more teamwork...

So by this point they’ve got a good idea of their characters, how they roll, how they react under pressure and during downtime and throughout all this, Justin Hammer would make cameos because he’s SHIELD’s main weapons supplier [...among other groups, which in and of itself foreshadows some of his shadier connections later on] and between him and Tony, they’ve basically cornered the market on experts in that field— which comes in handy when we’re talking about alien tech. 

Justin wouldn’t get much screentime compared to the others, but enough for the Avengers [and the audience] to see he makes for a very good foil for Tony, with their differences being highlighted all the more due to the similarities. After all, both come across as good people: Tony’s very friendly to anyone who isn’t on his shit list, and Justin acts very polite and gentlemanly to strangers [and is 100% a mom friend to anyone he cares about]. Tony’s a hero, though, while Justin’s long since made it clear he was a businessman first and foremost.

Through all this, Justin and Tony’s dynamic is intentionally kept vague— one moment they’re perfectly friendly, the next they'll be at each others’ throats and, again, sometimes can get misinterpreted as something else. 

Then the Reveal happens, and suddenly all those past encounters and hints come up and it’s so obvious in retrospect but—

Who would’ve expected it?

Tony. 

Tony’s the only one who’s not surprised by what the latest intel’s hinting at, obtained from an intel broker who turned up dead not long after [...because said broker’d also been messing with HYDRA, but that’s the plot twist that comes up in the next season]: nothing specific, nothing concrete, but something that ties a good chunk of the previous Villains Of The Week together to reveal a far, far greater threat. 

The Cabal, and while some of its members have long since become familiar names— e.g. the Fantastic Four normally are the ones who have to deal with Victor Von Doom, but not always— its founder had been a mystery for the longest time. A mystery that has just been ended, except nobody could have expected to see the name on the file.

Everyone else’s caught flat-footed and going through several permutations of ‘oh shit’, meanwhile Tony just leans back, scrubs a hand down his face, and looks out the window with a low whistle.

“Well played, Justin. Well played.”

.

Which is when the audience learns more about their very strange dynamic, which gets revealed to have started out a rivalry during their childhood [and has now basically escalated to the most high-stakes game of chicken there ever was, but shh].

Here’s the thing: if Tony were to call their rivalry off, Justin would stop.

But...

Tony can count on one hand how many positive constants he’s had in his life: Jarvis’ [and, after his heart attack, JARVIS’] presence, and his rivalry. Those are the two things that’ve been there for him through thick and thin, the only two safe places where he knows where they stand, knows they won’t try and tear him down and that means something. 

JARVIS will never leave him [not this Jarvis, at least], but... this rivalry’s been a thing since before he met Rhodey, since before his parents died and Tony’s not entirely certain just how much it’s shaped him, but he can count on one hand how many people give a damn about him and want to see him succeed and— 

Tony’s not sure he has it in him to call it off. Not at this point. 

Not when part of him knows why he did it, because— well, every superhero needs an adversary, don’t they? For a moment, he’d been surprised Justin had the guts to do this, but it makes complete sense the more he thinks about it and Tony knows just how little respect Justin has for the others, of course he’d be the type of guy who’d go “ugh, fine, if you want something done right, gotta do it yourself”. 

.

also, before this all seems very one-sided, I think I forgot to mention that Justin’s really benefiting from this rivalry too— not as obvious early on, but it gives him something to focus on and work towards. 

Something that kept him from depression when he thought too much about his past life and discovered just how much he’d forgotten, was still forgetting, something to keep him from being bored when he looked up one day and realized— he didn’t actually have any goals in this life, did he? 

Not when his life thus far had been dictated by his parents, and he’d been okay with following along to their script for him because if it wasn’t him, it’d be his sister or an innocent child who’d be forced to live up to their impossibly high expectations as the heir to Hammer Industries... but it was something he was resigned to at this point, not something he was particularly happy about. 

This time, he... didn’t know what he wanted in life. Nor did he remember what he’d wanted last time— had they wanted to be a doctor? Teacher? Writer? They didn’t remember anymore— and it’s startling to realize that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled if he wasn’t talking to his little sister. 

Justin’s never been one to seek out the approval of the adults in his life— the fact that he was surrounded by Parents of the Year [note the sarcasm] probably had something to do with that— and remembering a past life means he sees everyone his physical age and lower as kids, so he doesn’t see many people as equals.

...and then Tony decided he’d like having a rival.

At first, yeah, it was confusing; even as an adult, Justin didn’t entirely get why, but it was. Something.

Something good, and gets even better because this is something they both decided, that had nothing to do with the meticulously-annotated plan his parents had for his life, and while at first it was weird, Justin found he was actually enjoying himself [for once].

To the point where he found himself actually getting honestly, genuinely invested in said rivalry, and if he sometimes found himself trying to drill self-care into Tony sometimes, well, those bags under his eyes made them look bad, okay? It was self-interest, nothing more, really!

Really.

So when Tony went and became a superhero, Justin found himself taking a step back for a moment as he paused to consider his actions.

Paused before taking the plunge, because this was it, was serious, was pushing the limit and going past the point of no return. Was he really willing to do this?

A moment to consider things, deliberate on the possible consequences and what could happen— then he gave a sharp, decisive nod.

“Yes, we’re doing this.” 

[kopikokun]

(Don't) Tell Me More༄ m.taeil

↳ Taeil's loaded, and that's a severe understatement. So, what on earth is this rich kid doing cleaning pools every Sunday? Looking for love, of course, and a little help with rubbing sunscreen on his back. Ultraviolet protection's a must; it's getting real hot in here.

pairing: (secret rich kid) pool boy!taeil x gn rich kid!reader

genre: fluff, suggestive

warning(s): the suggestive bit is the unaddressed tension, and the one joke about bad porn taeil makes. overall, just the ~vibes~ haha

word count: 2153 words

author's note: i got... carried away. no worries, the starved taeil fans deserve a meal. idk how many years it'll take for the next one. also, please notify me if i accidentally used any gendered language. i’ve checked multiple times, but i’m human, and would sincerely appreciate if you pointed out any of my mistakes or even offered feedback ♡

☆༓･*˚⁺‧͙ 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: do i wanna know (arctic monkeys) ✧ head over heels (loveleo) ✧ honey (moxie) ✧ dance with me (sir, please) ✧ doubt (hippo campus) ✧ heat waves (glass animals)

← BACK TO NAVI.

Labour isn’t Taeil’s forte. Born with a gold spoon between his lips, and six digits in his bank account at five, he’s lived a life beyond lavish.

Fridays are reserved for piano lessons and tennis, Saturdays for buttering up his father’s potential clients in country clubs, and Sundays for swimming in the five meter deep pool in his backyard. Well, at least, Sundays used to be.

Taeil’s plenty passionate about swimming–freestyle, backstroke, butterfly–but about cleaning swimming pools? Not so much.

So, why is he spending every Sunday afternoon sweaty, swathed in sunscreen, and despairing over chemical imbalances? The answer is simple, and lazing on a deck chair at this very moment: you.

You’re new–courtesy of the raise in your father’s already outrageous salary–and when Taeil first lay his eyes upon you at the park, he was enamoured. He’d actually tripped on a root in his trance, and you’d crouched beside him to ask whether he was alright. Humiliated, he’d silently hobbled after as you lead him to a bench. You’d nursed the wound he hadn’t realised he’d sustained as best you could: rinsing and dabbing it dry.

“I’ll walk you home,” he’d said. “A token of appreciation, if you will.”

You’d accepted his token. The walk wasn’t far, but it was likely because you made for such good company. Taeil would be engrossed even if you droned on about cheese for an hour, which coincidentally, is exactly what Mr. Liu’s monologue had entailed the month before. That conversation had bored him half to death however.

It felt too quick; your estate was already looming over him, auguring the end of your encounter when he’d finally recovered from his ignominy. Desperate for more, Taeil had blurted out the first thing in sight: your pool. That’s why you’d mentioned your dad needing a pool cleaner every weekend, and how, despite being clueless in the department, Taeil had wholeheartedly offered himself. You’d been elated, beaming, over the moon. How could he say no?

It had seemed appealing in the moment, but his train of thought had been superficial. Turns out, those mass-produced specially-targeted summer chick-flicks were lying! Who would’ve guessed? Pool boying was not just flaunting your washboard abs and bulging biceps as you netted a few leaves. Oh no. The first few test cleans Taeil had done with his pool… well, it became off limits for a week. And an actual expert had to be hired. Those gritty aspects aren’t the most marketable, or inherently sexy, so Taeil supposes the chick-flick deceits are partially excused.

But back to what matters: you. Your–how should he put it?–spunk, hadn’t been anticipated. Not an ounce of that pretentious reticence the local wealthy feel entitled to prevails in you. It’s refreshing. You’re adrenaline personified. Just your presence has Taeil’s heart palpitating. Since he’d been hired, every week has been more fleeting glances, yearning touches, puckish banter. And last week… well, there’s no time for that, because now you’re beckoning him over, your hand wrapped around a tube of sunscreen. Taeil prances to you, complaisant.

“Sit,” you urge, dragging a wicker stool in front of you. “You’re done for today, right?”

“Yeah, water didn’t need treatment this week. Just skimmed the surface for debris.” Taeil hesitates. He feels awkward after last week, when he’d kissed you. Yes, kissed you. You haven’t said a word about it since, and there’s no way in hell he’s doing it first. “But, it’s okay. I’m gonna go soon.”

“Aww, please, Taeil? Sit?” You pat the chair and smile, eyelashes glinting in the sun. That’s all it takes for Taeil to succumb, the rattan crackling beneath his weight. Your fingers graze his arm. “It’s a hot day, huh? A swim would be nice.”

His eyebrows crease. "Sorry, were you waiting?"

“No, no, it’s fine.” You tilt your head. “But…”

“What?”

“Do you want to go swimming with me?”

Taeil fists the material of his swim shorts, spine erect. The fabric crinkles. Whether he wants to what? “Oh, uh, well, I don’t wanna intrude. I’m sure your parents wouldn’t be happy about me swimming in their pool.”

The heat of your body seeps into his skin as your arms coil around his. “They don’t mind, and if they did, they’re not home to say so.”

This feels like the start of a trashy porn. Taeil flushes. “Oh.”

“So? What do you say?”

His adam’s apple buoys. “Sure. Wouldn’t hurt, right?”

“Exactly.” The sunscreen’s cap clacks open. “Here, you gotta reapply more.” Taeil extends his palm, and you squeeze some into it.

He deliberates his next move. It’s difficult to think when you’re gazing at him like that, lashes batting and lips curled into a demure smile. “You don’t mind if I”–he rubs his nape with a free hand–“uh, take off my shirt, right? I don’t wanna dirty your pool.”

“Sure! I definitely wouldn’t mind, so long as you’re okay with it.” You tuck your knees to your chest. “Why? Do you want me to look away?”

“No, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t making you uncomfortable.” Taeil’s going to pass out, he’s betting money on it.

He doesn’t, but he does glow incandescent when he strips himself of his clammy shirt. The humid air only exacerbates his feverish blush.

Growing up, Taeil’s parents always emphasised presentability, and he’s nothing if not presentable. He’s proud of his physique, diligently maintaining it with rigorous exercise, and sure, he’s had a few self-conscious blips, but they’re transient. Taeil knows he’s attractive, yet under your keen eye, he rubs sunscreen–on his neck, chest, and abdomen–hunched forward.

“Do you need help?” You peer over his shoulder, wagging the aquamarine bottle like bait. “With your back. You know, for the spots you can’t reach?”

You’ll be the death of him. You’re going to kill him, but he honestly wouldn’t mind that. Taeil’s never had any ‘spots he can’t reach’, but, “Yeah, sure. Thanks.”

Your fingers are ridiculously delicate, like you’re weaving gossamer across his back–sunscreen webs, if that’s a thing. Taeil’s sure someone would pay grotesquely for that. Mr. Liu would.

Neither of you speak, only the sound of skin against skin drifting alongside the scent of coconut oil and cocoa butter. At one point, your nails unintentionally trail his back, and Taeil shivers.

His body tingles with the vestige of your touch, and when he assumes you’re done, you stun him with a good, hard, satisfying squeeze to his shoulders; the ones twined rigid from graft. Taeil actually groans in relief, which had probably stunned you. Or maybe that’s what you were hoping for.

Internally, he’s broiling in mortification, but externally, his shoulders slacken, his head hangs forward, and his exhales are long and grateful. It’s embarrassing. For crying out loud, he has his own professional masseuse, yet when it’s you doing it–yeah, he needn’t elaborate further. He’s gushed about you enough.

“Feels nice, right?”

“God, yeah, it feels”–a particularly forceful squeeze elicits another groan from him–“good. Do you have any experience? You’re amazing at this.”

“Just my dad. When I was younger he used to pay me to massage his shoulders after work,” you say, fingers miraculously knowing exactly which muscle to knead at what intensity. Is this what heaven feels like? “Well, there was also the massage course I signed up for a few years ago.”

“Well”–another sigh–“it definitely paid off.”

“It better have, given how pricey it was.” Your lilt is roguish, and it sounds like you’re enjoying this as much as Taeil is.

He wants to die like this, but you’re already standing, and stretching your arms overhead before he can really soak the sensation in.

“Let’s go for that swim, huh?”

“Uh,” Taeil blinks, dazed, “yeah.”

He trails after you, facing away when you lower yourself into the water without qualms. Duh, it’s your pool. Why would you have scruples about swimming in your pool? Taeil, on the other hand, dithers, because it’s not his pool, and he can’t help but fret that your parents could walk in on you swimming with the pool boy.

“Hurry up! A little water’s not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m not scared of the water,” he says, staring pointedly at you. He’s never felt so vehemently for someone before, and you’re so… unpredictable. It’s invigorating. It’s terrifying. Do you like him, or are you just bored?

He ventures as far as sitting on the edge of the pool’s deck, where water kisses concrete. His legs dangle, acclimating to both the temperature, and the reality that he really is about to jump into his employer’s pool. The water is cold, caressing his leg as you wade closer to stand between his knees. Your eyes sweep over him. Taeil’s stomach coils. He hopes you like what you see.

“You okay?” you ask, hand over his right knee. It’s freezing. “You look a little flushed.”

Your hand crawls further up his leg. “Yeah,” he scoffs, “I wonder why.”

“Aw, don’t be shy,” you grin, upturning your palms and offering them to him. “Come on.”

Taeil should’ve thought your motives through, but how could he have denied your invitation? He’s still a guy, and well, it’s you. Regardless, he should’ve scrounged up some semblance of prudence because it was blatant what you’d needed his hands for. To pull him under. Literally.

The tug is harsh and efficient, jolting him forward into the polar depths before he can object. Taeil’s not thinking straight–the stark contrast in temperatures pummel his rationality–so he grabs the closest thing he can: you. It’s reckless of him, given the two of you are in the deep end and he could drown you. But risks evade his psyche as he loops his arms around your waist, your body pressing into his. Fortunately, he won’t be facing charges anytime soon because you do resurface, still in his arms, and strangely, you’re not pissed, you’re laughing. Laughing so hard your head’s thrown back, and your body trembles. It’s not funny–you could’ve died for God’s sake–but Taeil feels a rumble course through him; a chuckle, a giggle, a laugh. Now, he’s laughing too, though there’s nothing funny about this. He’s laughing because you’re laughing, and that’s enough of a reason for him.

“Are you okay?” you finally say, titters dissolving into a faint smile. “That was mean of me, sorry.”

Your face is inches from his, so Taeil’s voice shrinks. “No, it’s fine. I’m sorry I grabbed onto you though. And, oh, uh”–he starts loosening his grip of you–“sorry I–”

"No, wait.” This time, it’s your arms curling around him. “It’s fine. I don’t mind this. It feels… nice.”

“Yeah… it - it does.”

The water laps at his sternum, and Taeil takes his chances by nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. You let him, though neither of you know each other enough for this kind of intimacy. Maybe that’s why he’s so enthralled by you. Hell, you don’t even know he’s the son of some rich socialite. To you, he’s just the pool boy. Maybe that’s why you’re playing along with him. Because there’s something exhilarating about chasing something you shouldn’t when you’ve never had to run before. Because there’s a thrill in pain when you’re unscathed. Because when you’re someone like you and Taeil, mistakes can be afforded. Anyway, what does Taeil know of pain? In fact, what does he know of you to think this? It isn’t like he knows what your intentions are with him. You’re unpredictable. That’s your whole schtick. It’s funny, because Taeil knows your pool’s pH levels better than you.

Your fingers scrape into his sopping hair.

Or maybe he likes you for you. Maybe he likes what little of you he does know. So, does he want to know more?

“What do you think of me?” he murmurs against your skin.

“You’re fun.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, then, what do you think of me?”

Taeil lifts his head from your shoulder, the strength of his embrace withering. “Honestly, I don’t really know.”

You grin. “See? It’s hard to put into words, right?”

“I guess,” he smiles. You make it sound nice that you don’t know him. You make it sound like there’s just too much that you can’t express it. Maybe that’s what’s happening right now. Maybe there’s just too much Taeil likes about you to comprehend, so he thinks there’s nothing he really likes about you at all.

“You’re funny, Taeil.”

He isn’t. “Thanks.”

Taeil’s unsure how much time passes; long enough that the water’s gone tepid at least.

“Do you… like me?” he asks. Maybe if he hears you say yes, he’ll know what all the things he adores about you are.

There’s a pause.

“You’re fun, right?” you ask, thumbing a rivulet from his cheek.

“Yeah, I’ve been told I am.”

“Then, yes.” Your lips brush his. “I like you, Taeil.”

[agustdakasuga]

A Place Called Home | Chapter 21

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook

Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

You push on, trying your best to remain strong to be there for your hybrids. All hope is lost and you’re just trying to live your remaining days. But the boss has one more plan up his sleeve to break you. 

Chapter warning(s): This might be a heavy chapter for some readers. Angry cursing, needle/drug abuse, violence, slight gore, killing, death, mentions of sexual assault. Please read at your own discretion!

You would never admit it but deep down you knew, you were slowly giving up. Whatever small slither of hope you held onto was slowly slipping from your hands. Maybe it was better to die here then keep on dreaming of your release with your boys.

“Time to earn your keep, fox.”

“No, please. Not Jin!” You pressed yourself against the bars in whatever frugal attempt to stop Boss Im and his men from taking Jin away.

“Back away, Namjoon.” The man warned and Namjoon growled but made no move to step forward. He knew the hybrids would do his bidding just to keep you safe. Jin choked as he was tugged out of his cell by his collar.

“You should be there too! To experience his first fight.” You were grabbed next. You already knew the way to your viewing area.

The strong smell of iron and dirt was something you have grown accustomed to. How many hybrids have you watched Yoongi and Namjoon kill in that concrete ring? It was like you were numb to it. But you were on your toes when you knew it was Jin’s first time fighting. They were going to inject him and make him feral.

Your gentle boy, Jin.

“Everyone! We have a debut fight tonight! An arctic fox hybrid’s first fight!” The announcer stepped out and everyone jeered.

“I know! I know! Foxes don’t make an interesting fight! But we have him against our own snow leopard.” From the smirk on the announcer and Boss Im’s face, you knew what this was. They were deliberately trying to make Jin lose.

You should have known why Jin was having his first fight before Taehyung, even if Taehyung was the one with more ‘potential’.

“Why are you doing this? Jin can’t fight!” You struggled.

“Exactly. But let’s see what really makes him go crazy.” Boss Im smirked, waving his hand at the announcer to start the match. You gulped, half of you not even wanting to watch this fight unfold while the other half wanted you to continue watching to make sure Jin would be alright.

“Let’s fight!” The announcer ran out of the ring. Jin was thrown in, falling to the ground. He swayed slightly, the drugs taking effect in his system.

“This is going to be easy.” The snow leopard smiled and charged at Jin, knocking him down.

The crowd jeered while you cried silently. Jin was trying his best to fight the snow leopard off but he couldn’t. His opponent was just too strong. He only managed to get a few good punches and kicks at him.

“Jin!” You screamed until your throat went raw.

“Please. I’m begging you! Please! Don’t let him die!” You shook your head as you cried and kneeled to Boss Im. You had your pride and dignity but if seeing you submit was what you needed to do to save Jin, you will do it. Boss Im stood up, laughing.

“Unfortunately, I don’t sway with pleads and begs.” He chuckled.

“You’re heartless.”

“So I’ve been told.” He shrugged. Looking on, he already knew Jin had no chance against the snow leopard, who was well trained and a lot stronger.

“Fox! You better win that fight!” Boss Im shouted at Jin. Through his unbruised eye, Jin saw Boss Im take his gun out and press it against your temple with a mocking smile. Jin growled.

“You lose, your precious mate dies!” He threatened. Jin continued to growl, foam seeping from his teeth. With all his strength, he kicked the snow leopard off him, running at him and head-butting him. The snow leopard fell back with a groan but Jin didn’t falter and pounced on top of him. The hybrid on the ground swiped at Jin but Jin bit down into his arm.

The snow leopard yelped in pain as he gripped onto his bleeding arm. Blood leaked from the corner of Jin’s lips.

“I don’t lose.” The snow leopard charged at Jin again.

Jin jumped up and landed on the leopard’s back, making him fall forward. He placed his foot on the back of the leopard’s neck. If he wanted to, he could kill the leopard just like that. Half the crowd jeered at their loss while the other half cheered for Jin’s sudden upper hand.

“Separate them. The fox wins.” Boss Im told his men and they ran forward to take Jin away before he could stomp on the snow leopard’s neck.

“Once again, you’ve proven to be quite the asset, doctor.” Boss Im smirked, turning to look at you. With a wave of his hand, someone grasped your forearm to bring you back to your cell.

“W-Wait! Let me treat Jin, please! Your team won’t be able to handle his injuries.” You begged.

“Fine. Bring her to the medical suite.” Boss Im shooed you off. You were shoved forward, making you stumble. Jin’s face was badly beaten up but you could tell he was still conscious. You held his hand as his whole body shook, tears escaping his eyes.

“I’m... sorry.” He forced out.

“Don’t apologise. It’s okay, Jinnie. I’ve got you.” You hushed him and began to treat his injuries. Jin was so shaken by the whole experience.

“That’s enough.” You were wrenched away from Jin and both carried back to your cells. Before they could push you in, you walked in yourself, making them mutter a ‘b*tch’ under their breaths.

“Hyung!” All the hybrids were appalled at Jin’s state. Namjoon picked the elder up from where the henchman had tossed him in and laid him on the mattress.

“Hyung, can you hear me?” Namjoon leaned down.

“He’s traumatised, Joon.” You gulped.

“Jin didn’t want to fight. He was losing against his opponent and fighting the effects of the drug. The boss threatened to shoot me if Jin didn’t win. He manipulated Jin and forced him to fight, causing him to go feral. But thankfully, the other hybrid made it out alive. They were separated before anything could happen.” You explained.

“Poor hyung...” Jimin whimpered.

“Hyung, what will happen to me?” You heard Taehyung ask Yoongi behind you. It made you feel sick to think Taehyung would be like Jin. The cell gate opened again and you all turned your heads.

“What?” You frowned at the man.

“We’re not here for you.” They walked past you and grabbed Jimin and Hoseok. Jimin screeched, letting out hisses as a man leashed his collar. Hoseok growled warningly.

“Hey, what are you doing with them?!” You tried to stop the men but they easily flung you aside.

“Boss requested for them.” He smirked. Jimin whimpered and reached out for you but you were held away. Hoseok shouted and thrashed around. The other hybrids in their cells made a fuss.

“I swear, you hurt them and I will rip your heads off!” Namjoon growled.

“Let them go!” Yoongi shouted.

“One more thing, the boss said to let you know you’re fighting tomorrow.” The men pointed at Taehyung, who jumped and cowered behind Yoongi. Yoongi growled, flashing his canines at them, his black ears twitching. They laughed and just pulled the two hybrids with them.

“No, let them go! You’re hurting them!” You tried to grab Hoseok and Jimin.

“No!” You screamed and cried.

“Kitten, kitten.” Yoongi managed to grab your ankle and pull you to him. He and Taehyung held you, comforting you. Yoongi whispered sweet nothings into your ear while Taehyung stroked the back of your head.

“Chim... Hobi... This is all my fault.” You shook your head.

“No, it’s not, jagi.” Taehyung kissed your head.

“It is! Boss Im gave me an offer. I could leave with Jimin and Hoseok but I’ll have to leave all of you behind. I immediately declined, I’m not leaving any of you behind but now, this happened. If I just let them go, they wouldn’t be dragged out like that. Who knows what torture they are being put through.” You confessed and cried.

“Y-You were given a chance to leave? And bring Hoseok and Jimin with you?” Yoongi asked. You nodded your head.

“But I can’t leave knowing the 4 of you are still here.” You sobbed.

“Jagi...” Taehyung didn’t know what to say. Were they supposed to feel touched that you stayed for them? Or were you dumb for not taking the offer and rescuing yourself and two of them?

You didn’t know how long passed when the cell door opened again. You stood up from the mattress and rushed over to greet Jimin and Hoseok. Hoseok was beaten up while Jimin was having a full meltdown, shivering.

“Hoseok?” You stroked the hair away from his face. He coughed a little before opening his eyes.

“I-I’m okay... Chim...” He choked.

“Chim, Chim.” You slowly approached the calico cat.

“No! D-Don’t touch me!... Please...” Jimin hid his face in his arms, shaking his head as he balled himself up. You retracted your hand immediately, not wanting to agitate him even more. But you noticed that he was breathing so hard was turning blue.

“Alright, sweetie. I won’t touch you. But you need to breathe or you’ll pass out. Follow my breathing, Chim.” You said softly.

“H-Hold me?” He looked up at you, absolutely broken. You nodded and slowly moved towards him. Cautiously, you wrapped your arms around him and he flinched but let you draw his head to your chest.

“I’ve got you now.” You whispered.

“T-They... T-They touched m-me.” He sobbed. Your heart broke and you heard the other hybrids let out growls of anger, hearing Jimin’s words.

You remembered what you had first learnt about how ring masters treat their pets from Yoongi. Jimin must have had to relive that entire experience from his old owner. Whatever memories that he managed to forget or dissolved came rushing back to him, just like that.

“Shh. It’s over.” You knew whatever amount of comfort that you had to offer would not pull Jimin out of this trauma. He may not be as beaten up as Hoseok but he was definitely more traumatised.

“Come here, Hoseok.” You said and Hoseok moved over, laying his head in your lap as he closed his eyes to rest.

“They made me bait for the new training hybrids.” He said softly. You gently ran your hands through his hair in an effort to make him feel better. At the same time, you kissed the top of Jimin’s head. Yoongi was busy comforting Taehyung as well. The tiger was hurt seeing his best friend like that and he was afraid of his fight tomorrow.

“You’ll be fine, Tae.” Yoongi told the younger.

Turning your head, you met eyes with Yoongi. He stared at you and you blinked your tears away. He was thinking the same thing as you.

Just when will this torture end?

That night, Jimin’s nightmares were bad. You were woken up by his screaming and him scratching at his arms and legs. 

“Get them off! Don’t touch me!” He thrashed around. 

“Shh, Chim. It’s me. You had a nightmare. Don’t worry, I’m here.” You hugged him and rubbed his back. When the men brought in the meals for the day, you didn’t even let them look at Jimin as you hid him behind your back. They snickered and nudged each other playfully. 

“Put it down and leave.” You frowned. 

“What makes you think we will listen to you?” One of them crossed his arms. You glared at them. 

“Hey. Boss called for you.” A voice said and the men immediately bowed their heads to their boss’ wife, running off. You let out a sigh of relief. You haven’t seen her since the day the hybrids were brought in. 

“It’s okay, Chim.” You ignored her presence, comforting Jimin. 

“I’m sorry, I really tried my best to keep them away.” You knew she was referring to trying to stop your hybrids from being captured here. Of course, you knew it wasn’t her fault but from all the mental fatigue that you have been facing during your time here, your brain just needed someone to blame. And it had to be her. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered again and left. Sighing, you brought the bowls of food over to Hoseok and Jimin. Hoseok ate slowly while you fed Jimin and yourself. 

Looking over, you saw Yoongi trying to convince a nervous Taehyung at least eat a little and Namjoon was slowly feeding a still battered Jin. 

“Hey, Jinnie. Are you feeling okay?” You asked. 

“I can’t believe... I... I almost.” He seized up. You grasped his hand. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, Jinnie. It’s alright. You know what that drug does to you. You weren’t in the right mind. You were manipulated, you didn’t have control over your own actions and the snow leopard is alive.” You comforted him to stop him from having an anxiety attack. 

-

It was right after dinner when Taehyung was dragged out. Yoongi tried his best to stop them from taking him as Taehyung struggled and growled against the leash’s pull. 

“Yoongi!” You gasped when they hit him with the barrel of their guns. Yoongi fell to the side with a groan, blood dripping from his temple. Taehyung thrashed around but they still managed to pull him away. Soon, you knew that they would come for you soon. 

“Ladies and gentlemen! Another debut fight! A tiger versus a lion!” The announcer said. Even if it was happening right before your eyes, you felt like it was mile away. Your eyes only focused on the door. 

“Why so glum?” Boss Im tilted his head mockingly, lifting your chin. 

“I hope you rot in hell when all this is over.” You spat at him. He glared at you, slapping your cheek. 

“It’s nice to hear you still hold onto ‘hope’.” He chuckled, wiping your saliva off his face and sitting back down in his throne chair. 

“It’s not too late to place your bets!” The announcer told the crowd. Your stomach churned as the door opened and Taehyung was pushed forward. The lion hybrid jumped out. 

Everyone cheered as it let out a loud growl. Taehyung’s eyes were dilated and red as he smirked at the lion. 

“Tae...” You whispered. 

The drug had taken over his system entirely. Taehyung didn’t even wait for the announcer to ring the bell as he rushed forward and pounced at the lion. The lion wasn’t too scarred though as he wrestled around with Taehyung. Taehyung didn’t have fighting experience but being circus trained made him pretty agile and smooth. 

“That all you got?” Taehyung laughed. 

“I’m just warming up, cub.” The lion wiped his lips and they charged at each other again. You looked away as you heard a crack of bones. 

“Call me that again.” Taehyung growled loudly and jumped on top of the lion. The lion slammed him against the wall, making his groan. Blood dripped down his temple like Yoongi earlier. 

“Please, Tae.” You prayed silently. 

“Sir-”

“Let him kill the lion.” Boss Im waved lazily, obviously not caring about the other fighter. He had a glint in his eyes, as if excited for blood to be spilt. Taehyung and the lion got some good hits at each other. Taehyung grabbed the lion by the leg and broke it. You winced and the crowd cheered as the lion yelped. 

“Finish him!” Boss Im commanded. The look in Taehyung’s eyes were unreadable. With one last pounce, he bit into the jugular vein of the lion. It was like Yoongi’s comeback fight. 

“Good show!” The boss stood up and clapped. 

“We have a new favourite in our hands.” He said to his men, who bowed their heads, nodding in agreement. 

You just focused on Taehyung still growled at the lion’s body, blood all over his body while he watched the lion fade out. The lion slowly bled out in front of Taehyung while Taehyung smirked deliriously. 

“Reward my new little monster with meat. And take her away.” You just let yourself be dragged like a sack of rice. Even as they shoved you back into your cell, your eyes were distant and dead. You couldn’t believe you just witnessed Taehyung do that. Your sweet, innocent, harmless Taehyung smiling at the body of a hybrid he just killed. 

“Snowflake?” Jin called but it fell deaf on your ears. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Yoongi frowned. 

“Yah! Idiot, where’s Taehyung?!” Namjoon asked the guy that brought you in and was about to leave. 

“Boss wants to treat his new little monster.” He smirked and left. Namjoon and Yoongi knew what happened. Taehyung’s fight must have been successful for Boss Im but horrible for you. You ran over to the bucket in the corner, emptying the contents of your stomach. 

“It’s okay, (y/n).” Hoseok rubbed your back. You couldn’t erase the image of the blood from your head. 

“My love/ Kitten/ Snowflake.” The others couldn’t reach you to comfort you but tried their best to do it with their voices and words of comfort. 

“(y/n).” Jimin whimpered by your side. 

“I-I’m sorry. I... I just need a m-moment.” You shivered. 

“It’s alright. Take all the time you need, my love.” Namjoon replied, leaning against the bars. You leaned back in Hoseok’s hold, putting your head against his chest. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head as darkness washed over you. 

You woken up when someone knocked on the bars. You sat up, feeling the mattress below you. The cells were all empty, the boys were gone. You were alone.

“Where are the boys?” You asked. 

“Taking them to you now.” The person entered your cell, grabbing your arm and hauling you out of there. You tripped over your feet as you tried to follow him. It was scary not knowing where you were going. 

“Go.” You were shoved forward. Standing up, you realised that you were in the middle of the empty ring. 

“Hello, doctor. Sleep well?” Boss Im sat at his throne, looking down at you. 

“Where are the boys? What did you do with them?” You shouted at him. You didn’t like the smug smile he had on his face. It made your heart race as you were worried that he would do something to them. After all, you passed out before you could see Taehyung. Did he return to the cell after his fight? What about Jimin? Was he being tortured again? 

“Don’t worry, you’ll see them.” He shrugged. 

“What do you want?!” 

“Just conducting a little experiment. You’ll be helping.” He laughed. Before you could say anything, he sat back down. The lights dimmed and your eyebrows furrowed, just what was he getting at? 

“Hello?” You called. There was growling to your left. 

“Who’s there?” You stepped back but there was another hiss behind you, making you turn around. Eyes stared back at you. 

“N-Namjoon? Hobi?” You called. 

“No...” You gasped as the figures stepped into the light. It was them.

Your boys. 

They all growled and hissed at you. Their eyes dilated and red, just like Taehyung had been when he was fighting last night. You didn’t know where to go, you were surrounded by them. It was obvious they didn’t recognise you, they were completely drug induced and delirious. 

“Y-Yoongi.” You tried to call out to him but he just smirked at you, making you step back. You bumped into someone. 

“Jinnie.” You whimpered as he shoved you forward, making you fall to the ground. It would be impossible to fight them off. You were a human and they were 6 hybrids. 

“Boys, please. It’s me!” You constantly tried to break them out of the drug trance. They were circling you as you sat in the middle of the ring, like you were the prey and they were the predator. Fear coursed through your veins. 

“Snap out of it! Please, you’re scaring me!” You begged, watching them close in on you. Even Jimin and Hoseok were under the trance.

“Chim...” You reached out to him but he jumped forward, biting into your arm. Crying out in pain, you wrenched your arm from his mouth, cradling it against your chest, feeling your blood seep out from your deep wound. These weren’t your boys, they have gone completely feral. 

Taehyung growled and pounced forward, his palms digging your shoulders into the ground with a sickening crack. 

“Tae... Baby...” You cried in pain as you struggled to get out from his grip. 

He didn’t reply as he sniffed your blood. You cried as you tried to get out of the ring. You banged on the doors but no one would come. The boys all attacked you at once. You just took it, not being able to fight them off on your own. 

You didn’t want to fight them either, they were your boys. And they still are. You didn’t want to hurt them, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Soon, the pain in your body turned to numbness. And yet, you couldn’t blame the boys. You knew this was out of their control. 

“Experiment success.” 

As you laid on the ground in your own blood, consciousness slowly slipping from you, you watched Boss Im stand up to leave. Yoongi wrapped his hand around your throat as they all looked down at you. You met eyes with each of them before you finally looked into Yoongi’s emotionless ones. You choked as you felt yourself get light headed from the lack of oxygen. 

“I’ll always... love you all.” You whispered as you mustered your last smile before your eyes fell shut.

~~

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[theinkedfoxsl]

1-35 of the 98 character development questions for grimshaw <3 (i haven’t ready any btw i just want to ask for him bc i love him so much and i am sleepy tired)

phew okay! love youuu

1- If they were an animal, what would they be? What is the first thing they’d do when they learn they’re an animal? Probably a lynx! As much as I want to attribute his slyness to a fox... The second part of the question confuses me, like if he got turned into an animal?? Grimshaw would probably try to learn how to turn back LMAO 2- Do they pick wildflowers? Only if he has a reason to do so! Like to give them to someone. 3- How do they like their eggs? (Fried, poached, soft-boiled, etc.) His mother used to make tamagoyaki for his lunches so it’s very nostalgic for him. He made sure HQ had one of those square frying pans. 4- How do they see themselves in their head, and how is that image wrong? I think Grimshaw sees a darker version of himself. He sees a monster, something not quite human. We know that’s wrong, we know why he’s made the choices he has. But he can’t justify them in his mind and it affects how he views himself in the end. 5- If they talked in their sleep, what weird jumble of words would come out? Beans and soup. 6- (For good guys) If they were a villain, what would their evil dark lord name be? Okay I know Grimshaw is a “good” guy, but his name is literally Grimshaw. Nothing is beating that! Nothing. 7- Muffins or cupcakes? Write at least one page of their rant about muffins vs cupcakes. I’m not writing a one page rant, but I can tell you that Grimshaw will pull the “I know I’m a doctor but frosting is delicious” card a million times if he has to. He is obsessed with sweets bro. 8- Do they prefer arm day or leg day? Arm day, his legs get enough of a workout carrying his 6′7 ass around. 9- What is the longest they’ve ever slept in? When he finished school he almost missed the graduation ceremony because he slept until noon. 10- They’re on their way to the hospital when they hit a parked car. They can’t stop, and don’t have paper for a note. They drive away without telling anyone what happened. How do they ease their conscience? Grimshaw probably took a picture of the license plate and then sent money to repair the damages anonymously. 11- Most embarrassing middle school moment? One time Achlys pretended Hemera wasn’t his sister because he wanted to seem cooler to his friends... The teacher then called out their last name like two seconds later. It’s HAUNTED him lmaooo. 12- Favorite pizza toppings? List the top five in order. 1. Pepperoni. 2. Hot peppers. 3. Steak. 4. Bell peppers. 5. Jalapeno. 13- What was the last (non-story-related) dream they had while sleeping? Grimshaw doesn’t really remember his dreams, they’re too hazy unfortunately. 14- If they suddenly vanished, what would their family assume they were up to? (Shopping, pranking people, overthrowing governments, etc.) This is pretty much exactly what happened LMAO- Vera just assumed he got sick of his family and left them. Hemera knew that something was wrong and that her brother was most likely in danger. His mother always worried but assumed it was something work related. and his father barely noticed. 15- What’s their least favorite possession that they wish they could get rid of, but can’t / shouldn’t? HIMSELF LMAOO 16- Write out their last nightmare as a short scene. The steady drip of water on the concrete caught his attention as he walked through the dark warehouse. Drip.. Drip.. Drip.. It was distracting as he proceeded into the large open room. A single chair sat in the middle of the dim room, a person tied to it, their back facing him. Slowly, Achlys approached the person tied up, steps quiet and deliberate. Drip.. Drip.. Drip.. The man reached out, fingers brushing against the person’s shoulder. Only for their head, his head, to lull back. Blank red eyes stared at him and Achlys stumbled backwards. Him, but not him. The other him. The one he left to die. Oh God, what has he done? 17- If they spray-painted a wall, what would they write / draw? He’d probably do a butterfly, a sword, and the scales of justice. Something for his sister. 18- Pick a fictional character from another book / movie to be their guardian angel. Is it hard to look out for your character? Does the guardian angel interact with them? What’s their first conversation like? I don’t even know who would want to watch over him to be honest</3 can I pick Ohm? I think that’d be fucking hilarious. Ohm is so tired bro. They talk about supposed abandonment of family and then Ohm is dragging Grimshaw out of the way of a car. 19- Do they find fart noises funny? (Be honest.) No! (Yes lol) 20- They wake up invisible. Do they ask for help right away, or do they stay hidden? What do they do while invisible? Grimshaw can already go invisible if he tries hard enough, please help him. He is immediately asking Viper and Sage for help lmfao- He does not want to be invisible. 21- What are their final words? Try to make them unexpected! Oh Grimshaw originally was slated for death. And I DO have his final words saved; “Finally. I've won. Tell them that I-" 22- What one aspect of their physical appearance do they think is hot? Bitch is too smug about his height. 23- Jeans, skinny jeans, or sweatpants? Jeans (,: 24- How far can they spit a watermelon seed? A considerable distance, but nothing truly impressive. He can tie a cherry stem with his tongue though which he does consider impressive. 25- Are they more likely to notice the shapes of the clouds or the color of the sky? Colour of the sky. 26- What do they joke about and say, “I would die for that!” His loved ones, but I don’t think he’s joking. He just frames it as one. 27- On a road trip, are they the driver, the DJ in the passenger seat, or one of the people eating snacks and huddled under the bags in the back? Designated driver because he doesn’t trust Mua Lan and because if he lets Pua or Artisan drive the other will yell. 28- Do they sleep in normal clothes or pajamas? To what degree are they clothed? He usually just sleeps in sweat pants, but since he doesn’t sleep very often, he’s usually lounging in his normal clothes. 29- What are their three favorite types of flowers? Purple hyacinths, alcea rosea, and daffodils. 30- If they could travel to the future, but they couldn’t go back, would they do it to escape their problems? No. No he wouldn’t. Achlys has learned that running away helps nothing. He’s tired of running. 31- Do they prefer unicorns or pegusi? Unicorns lol 32- When they sneeze: hand, elbow, or nada? Elbow. 33- Their crush / another hot character asks them to dance and pulls them to the dance floor. How do they react? Do they try to hide their feelings? And most importantly, do they dance? Sure he’ll dance, but he’s not the best at it in his opinion. He’s nervous, very blushy and bashful, he ain’t try to hide it. He does do his best to dance tho! 34- What was the last thing they thought about stealing? This really cute mug that says “For Fox Sake” he did buy it in the end lol 35- Their favorite thing about riding a Ferris wheel? The view :)