#thinking of the one finger biting scene but with you and aki instead....

[meownotgood]

Hear me out please,,,

Imagine a control devil Aki, hypnotic spiral blue eyes perhaps and maybe,,, maybe reader being this version of csm but Aki isn't after pochita, no he wants you

He sees through you and he knows he wants to keep you as his personal pet. He's so serious at the workplace but to you he's such a sweetheart,, he loves you so much his pretty little pet

He doesn't need a silly little leash and collar to let you know your his, his handprint on your wrist from those nights he claimed you, the bites on your neck and just his smell all over you alone let's you know that you're under his control

I'M ACTUALLY SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT THIS UP BECAUSE I WAS THINKING OF CONTROL DEVIL AKI A FEW MONTHS AGO AND NOW I CAN RAMBLE ABOUT IT

aki who is the control devil and head of division four instead of makima.... aaah with the cool spiral blue eyes, and I also imagine him wearing the trench coat and loafers that makima has, maybe a more formal hairstyle too, like half-up and half-down ponytail. thinking of him with makima's powers, like when she squished people in the shrine scene.... his large hands...

I feel like control devil aki would be just as intimidating as makima, but he still clearly has a softer side underneath all his coldness. and he still has a strong sense of justice, so he only uses his power on those he thinks deserve it. he doesn't really need to use his powers to control people anyways, because his appearance and his status as the division's lieutenant is usually enough to get him what he wants.

and that brings him to you. you're so easy to please, so loyal to him to a fault. you're always so obedient, you listen to every command he gives you without asking twice. you're someone he's found to be worthy of his protection, and worthy of being his pet.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Not a Baby: Nat and Chris (And Ronnie)

CW: The first part is pure fluff with a couple underage drinking references/jokes. Second part references the events of Chris getting appendicitis (One, Two, Three, Four) and takes place while he is healing from surgery. Includes surgery references, whumpee rejecting medication, medical trauma references

Sometimes, you just want bittersweet fluff lined with angst.

-

“You gotta help me out,” Tristan sings along with the radio as they wait at a red light, Ronnie furtively checking her phone. “It’s all a blur last ni-eee-eye-ee-ight…”

One message from Paul, just now out of bed after a longer-than-usual workday had fully wiped him out, thanking her for leaving some food in the fridge. She smiles, faintly, at the sight of the little heart emojis he leaves after every single text. 

He’s not much for showing emotion in his face, not like Tristan wears his own feelings on his sleeve, but he knows how to make sure Ronnie feels loved. He always has.

The light turns green, and she taps on the gas, then lets her foot slowly press down. Next to her, Tristan dances in his seat, totally unselfconscious, rocking back and forth. 

“We need a taxi, ‘cause you’re hungover and I’m broke…”

Ronnie starts laughing, one hand over her mouth, the other still on the wheel.

He blinks, turning to look at her. They just clipped his hair short last week, getting him ready for the next competition coming up. She never expected to be a Gymnastics Mom, not once, but here she is, chaperoning her teenage son to the gym on a Saturday afternoon, where he more or less lives these days. “What?”

“I just. It’s something else to listen to your teenage son sing about being hungover, Tris. That’s all. You’re way too young for this song. And probably just for Katy Perry in general, not that anyone should listen to-”

“Mom.” Tristan rolls his eyes, leaning over and pointedly turning the volume up on the radio. “I like Katy Perry. And I, I, I know what hungover is. I’m not, not, not, not-... not-not four years old. I’m fifteen.”

“Fair enough, but I don’t think my fifteen-year-old should know about being hungover, either.” She takes a turn, the radio cheerfully blaring that’s what you get for waking up in Vegas and she wonders why she keeps letting Tris pick the radio station, exactly, when they could be listening to some perfectly fine soft rock right about now. “What do you get up to at Aki’s, huh? Maybe I need to speak to Aimi. Ask if you’re having wild parties as soon as I leave.”

“Oh my god, Mom.” Tristan turns bright red, and she tries not to enjoy how much he’s his father’s son - always but especially when he blushes, the red seeming to make the scattering of pale freckles stand out even more, not less, when he does. “You are, are not going to-... we don’t drink, Mom. We just, just watch shows and… hang out.”

“I know, baby,” Ronnie says, laughter still edging her voice. “I’m teasing you, that’s all.”

He glares out the windshield where he sits next to her, running his fingers up and down the smooth seatbelt, along its edge. Back and forth, enjoying the mix of silk and rough in the texture, she thinks. 

“I’m not a, a, a, a baby,” He mumbles, all teenage resentment and irritation. 

“Oh, honey. That’s the downside of having parents,” Ronnie says, gentling her voice down to affection, taking another turn. She can see the gym now, down at the end of the street. Aimi will probably already be here with Aki, she figures, and maybe they can make a coffee run while the boys practice. “It doesn’t matter how old you get. You could be fifty and I could be sixty-seven and I’d still see you wrapped in that hospital blanket looking up at me with big eyes. Even when we’re both old, you’ll still be my baby.”

He rolls his eyes again, but this time she catches the hint of a smile he’s trying to hide pulling at one side of his mouth. Tristan leans forward and switches the radio station over to Ronnie’s favorite, then falls back into his seat, focusing on the seatbelt again.

Sometimes, like his father, he doesn’t know how to say he loves her, but he always knows how to show it.

-

Two and a half years later

Nat came down for a glass of water, only to find Chris wide awake on the couch at 3 am, top teeth biting down so hard on his bottom lip she was afraid he’d draw blood, making his slow, careful, shuffling way towards the stairs.

She’d managed to convince him to go back to the couch, or really more or less command him, but the trade-off was promising she’d stay downstairs with him for a while.

Now, instead of water she has a mug of hot tea steaming gently on the side table, instead of her warm bed she has Chris’s head resting on a pillow in her lap while she runs fingers slowly through his hair - dark red in the night, lit with a hint of silver by the reflected light coming off the television - and instead of dreams, she has reruns of Frasier.

“You palmed your pain medication earlier, didn’t you?” She asks the question as gently as she can, without judgement.

He doesn’t answer, green eyes locked on the television, where the main character’s younger brother is preparing for a date and managing to set an ironing board on fire in the process. It’s probably one of the best scenes in television history, but Nat can’t even begin to pay attention to it. Worry has her all twisted up, heart beating a little too fast, as she picks up her mug and takes a sip, honey and lemon and yes, a little bit of whiskey in her tea all settling over her tongue. 

“Chris,” She says, softly. “I asked you a question.”

“Mmmhmm,” is all he says, and he doesn’t move. His head is a soft weight against her leg, and his hair runs like silk through her fingers. He’s pale not just from the darkness and the late-night TV, but from the pain he must be in, must be holding back.

Of course, there’s no one who has come through her house who hasn’t been pretty good at hiding pain, after a while. Once you’re drowned in it, once it’s your everyday truth, you learn not so much to actually hide it as simply to go on living with it. 

No one Chris’s age should already be so good at this.

“You have to take those, or you’re going to hurt like this all the time for a while,” Nat says, trying to keep from lecturing him. His freckles stand out more, lit by the cool blue-tinged light of TV. She watches him smile, just a little, at the slapstick comedy going on. “It’ll take longer for your incision to heal if you-”

“Don’t, don’t like pills,” Chris whispers, and she watches one of his hands, palm flat, running up and down the heavy weighted blanket she’s laid over him. It’s soft as rabbit fur, and he starts to hum, nearly a whisper, as he touches it. “Jake’s gone. Out. Didn’t… didn’t want them.”

Nat takes a deep breath, closing her eyes briefly. “Chris, you can’t only take pills when Jake is here to give them to you. He can’t always be here, he has things he does outside of this house-”

“I know. But… I didn’t want them. I, I, I don’t mind hurting a little.”

The funny thing is, it’s not bluster. He really doesn’t. Chris would really rather lay here, awake in the middle of the night, in terrible pain than simply put two pills into his mouth and wash them down with water. There’s been too much done to him with drugs, and he’s not the only one she’s had to help recover the idea of medicine as something other than torture.

He’ll get there.

She hopes.

“Okay, well… where did you put them?”

There’s silence, again, but this time he shifts a little, a flash of his hurt and discomfort across his expression. “In, in the couch cushions.”

“Do you have any of your other doses in there?”

“... mmhmm.”

“Chris…” She sighs, putting her hand up to her forehead, rubbing her fingers just above the bridge of her nose as the tension starts to build behind her eyes. Oh, her head’s going to hurt soon. She can’t just be up at night like she used to without paying for it the next day. “How many have you skipped? Huh?”

“... four.”

“Four. Four times-... okay.” She exhales, slowly - he’s tense under her hand, now, and she can feel the worry in him. Knows he’s trying to figure out if he’ll be in trouble, get punished. Disciplined for the ways he’s learned to live with what happened to him.

A different kind of test than what he’s tried on Jake, but it’s still a test.

“Chris. I can’t tell you how much I don’t want to have to sit here and watch you and see you swallow them. I know that it’s hard for you, I do, and I’m so sorry that we have to do this, but I have to take care of you. I want to take care of you. And part of that is making sure you know how to care for yourself. When you’re recovering from serious surgery-”

“The, the, the, the cut’s not even that big,” He mutters, a hint of irritation. 

Nat feels a surge of affection for him that, if she were standing, would nearly knock her off her feet. Chris interrupting her, Chris being pouty and sulky and every inch a seventeen-year-old boy, is a new thing. She doesn’t take it for granted.

It’s just… a little inconvenient right now.

“It doesn’t matter how big it is. It went all the way inside your stomach, and it was a pretty serious surgery. You need these pills or you are going to hurt like hell for so much longer than if you take them and get better. You got it?”

He sighs, but relaxes against her again, and she starts running fingers through his hair again, simple and maternal. “Yeah. I, I do.”

“Okay. Let’s watch the show and see if maybe you’re up for taking your dose and heading back to sleep in a bit, huh?”

“Will you, you, you stay? Even if I-... even if I do, and fall asleep?” He twists a little to look up her and winces as it pulls the still-tender muscles in his abdomen. “Will you stay?”

Nat thinks about how badly her back’s going to hurt in the morning. The headache already trying to sneak its way in around the edges. How she’s going to end up napping half the day away and not getting a damn thing done she had planned.

Then she just smiles down at him, at his wide green eyes in his narrow face and the heavy blanket hiding every other inch of him in softness and warmth. “Yeah, okay. I’ll stay right here with you, ‘til Ant’s up in the morning. How’s that sound?”

“Good. See if you can get comfortable for a bit.”

The two of them fall back into an easy silence, broken only by the low-volume of the TV show, and get through two more episodes of Frasier before Nat’s tea is gone and she and Chris are both half-asleep on the couch, her hand simply resting on his hair, now, light but ever-present. 

Eyes closed, the television’s cool blue still dancing against the inside of her eyelids, she hears Chris mumble, “Night, Nat,” in a sleep-slurred voice. It’s got to be four in the morning, there’s not much night left.

“Night, baby,” Nat murmurs.

“Not a, a baby, Mom,” Chris whispers, but both of them are too close to sleep to notice.

-

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump  , @oops-its-whump  @cubeswhump ,  @whump-tr0pes  @downriver914 @vickytokio @whumpiary @orchidscript @moose-teeth @nonsensical-whump @outofangband

[umikawa]

Strawberries and Cigarettes

Aha, ignore the title that doesn’t really apply, I was just listening to the song the entire time I wrote this. Akiteru brainrot day seven.Yeah, i dunno how to write that kind of stuff so i just did the basic lines i always hear yk k bye. Also, italicized is where the scene changes or its that stuff.

Akiteru Tsukishima x Gn Reader, college au-ish. wc: 1.8k 

Warnings: Suggestive content. Mentions sex, drinking, cigarettes, and cliffs. Explicit language, not a lot I think, possibly only one word.

This is 16+ content, borderline 17+! Please don’t read it if your below the age. It doesn’t progress to smut just so you know, it’s only implied three times.

Drunken bodies sway around you, grinding down on each other to the beat of the music and the flash of the lights. Hands trail across bodies at the snack table, someone slamming a body onto the chips, laughs ringing out from the girl as they continued to make out in the ranch dip. An arm wraps around your shoulder, a warm blow of air skimming across your ear.

Akiteru Tsukishima. You didn’t know him well, he was just another guy in your class, always running late nearly every day. He seemed like a nice guy, appearance-wise, but you always felt he had different intentions. 

“Got a light?” He asks, holding a cigarette between his lips. 

You hold the flame up to the end, looking up at him with parted lips as he inhales, his larger hand coming up to the side of your face, blowing the smoke between your lips. 

“Tsukishima.” You mutter, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Let’s go for a drive, (Name).” He says, waiting for your response. With a single nod, his hand wraps around your waist, leading you out of the house and to his car. “Sorry about the cig smell in here, there should be a can of air freshener in the glove box.” He apologizes, climbing into the front seat. 

You perk a brow at him, how did a can of air freshener fit in a glove box. Staring at the five-inch bottle you blink, turning it between your hand. 

“Strawberry?” 

He laughs sheepishly, pulling out of the driveway. “Covers up the smell pretty good. Plus my brother bought it for me.” 

You nod, spraying it in the backseat, staring at the white stain on the carpet. “Bold of you to hook up in here, one hit and this car falls.” 

He rolls his eyes, holding his cigarette between his fingers. “It’s not what you think it is. I had to buy a cake for my brother's birthday and the whipped cream melted.” You shrug, spraying the freshener towards him. “Hey! And don’t think I missed that comment about my car, this baby has kept me going since high school.” 

“Okay, geezer.” He scoffed, flicking the spent ashes into the tray in his cup holder. “Where are we going anyway?” You ask, leaning back against the seat. 

He glanced at you, “Don’t know, just driving. Have a place?” 

“I want food.” 

He laughs at your response, putting out his cigarette, resting one hand on the shift knob, and the other on the steering wheel. “As you wish.” He jokes, laughing again at the roll of your eyes.

“That’ll be seventeen dollars and fifty-two cents please.”

Before you could take out money, he waved his hand at you and slipped his card into the reader, smiling when you looked up at him. 

“I’ll pay you back.” You tell him while walking back to his car. 

“No need.” He says, nearly dropping the bag in his hands when he looks through his window. “The keys are in the car.” You look from your side, staring at the keys still in the ignition. “And the doors are locked.”

“You don’t have a spare with someone?” 

He shakes his head.

Liar. 

He sat on the hood, patting the spot next to him. It’s quiet while you eat, stifled laughter when the other chews slowly in the silence, pained pats to the back when a fry goes down the wrong way. You feel his stare on you, turning your head only for him to be near inches from you, eyes trained on your lips. 

“Tsukishima, we just met.” 

He blinks, face flushing as he backs away. “Sorry.” 

He becomes a part of your daily life, beginning to sit next to you during lectures since he was “the best at convincing people” more like his wallet did most of the convincing. He started to worm himself through to your heart like he wanted, wrapping himself around it. 

He’s sprawled out on your bed while you’re at your desk, his eyes boring into the back of your head as he continues to sigh loudly.

“What do you want, Akiteru.” 

“Let’s go out for a drive.” He whines, flinging a pillow at you blindly, apologizing loudly when something clatters to the ground. 

You pick up the can of pencils, placing them back onto your desk. “You couldn’t have asked like a normal person? Instead of sounding like a girl who’s faking their orgasm?” 

“Wait, they fake it?” 

“Who knows.” You said, closing your textbook. “Come on, I wanna be home before midnight this time.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He muttered, pushing you out of the door. “Mind if we stop by my house?” 

“Long as you don’t plan on telling your mom I’m you’re s/o.” You mumbled, rubbing the side of your head. “Not that it’d be a bad thing, just don’t want her to get any ideas.” 

“Oh? So what I’m hearing is that you wouldn’t mind me being your boyfriend?” 

“Don’t push your luck.” 

The drive is quiet for the most part, his terrible singing filling your ears whenever a song he knew came on the radio. He laughed when you flicked his arm, holding the spot where you hit him. 

“Alright, this is it.” You looked out the window, staring at his place. “A little cautious advice, my brother can be a little closed-off. And slightly rude.” 

“Everything you’re not?” You try, laughing when he shoved your shoulder. “I’ll be fine don’t worry, I’ve dealt with drunk you after all.”

He shivered, remembering that he made out without blindly at another party he went with you to, shitty bathroom lights making it hard to tell it was you. But you had to have enjoyed it yourself right? You don’t make out with your best friend for ten minutes without feeling anything right? 

“I’m home!” He called out, holding the door open for you. 

“Akiteru! Oh, you’ve brought a friend!” 

He pushes you forward, hand on the small of your back. “This is (Name), my best friend.” He says, ignoring the strain of his voice when he uttered the words. “Where’s Kei?” 

At the sound of his name, the latter groaned, peeking from his door. “Who’s that.”

“I’m (Name), nice to meet you.” You say, waving at him. He narrows his eyes at you, nodding his head once. “Wow, seems like a happy guy.” You blurt, turning your head when the door whips open, Akiteru hiding his laughter, mother shaking her head with a smile before leaving the room.

“What was that?” 

“Said you seem like a happy guy, correct me if I’m wrong though.” You smile, holding your hands behind your back.

 He narrows his eyes at you again, pushing his glasses up. “I suppose you’re okay.” He muttered, shutting his room door. 

The next month is final exam time, students rushing to their dorms, partygoers slowly declining in numbers since some did want to graduate still. Akiteru sat beside you, chin resting on your shoulder as you took notes, finger looping around the band of your sweats. 

“If you’re horny there’s a bathroom in the other room.” You mumble, crossing out a vocabulary word. “Otherwise, wait.” He whined, lips dragging across your neck and down to your collarbones before he bit down. “Ow.” 

“Sorry babe.” He muttered, licking the bruising skin. “Can I leave a few?” 

“Fine. But if you make me mess up I’m not going to relieve you.” He huffs, moving under your arm for better access. “Jesus Chr- Akiteru what did I just say?” You say, rubbing your head when it came out a little too loud. “Sorry, sorry I didn’t mean to raise my voice it’s just these stupid exam preps.” You mumble. 

“Babe.” He says, cupping your cheek. “Take a break.” 

“Aki.” 

“It’ll make you feel better come on.” He says, dragging you to the bed before flopping down on it. “Come on.” He smiles when you lay on top of him, tucking your face into his neck, shivers going down his spine as he feels your breath against his neck. He flinches when you bite down, fingers digging into your hips, holding back the groan when your tongue pressed against it. “(Name) right there.” 

“I know Aki.” You whisper, kissing under his chin. 

“There’s no way I can cover all of these up Akiteru.” You say, pulling his shirt down in the mirror. 

“Like I’m any better (Name), you leech.” He muttered, staring at the dozens of hickies littering his body, wincing when you flick his forehead. “Well, do you feel better now?” 

You look up at him, his hand resting on top of your head. “I do. Thank you for reminding me to take a 

break, Aki.” You say, lifting your head to kiss him. “wanna go for a drive?” 

“One hit and this car falls.” 

“Don’t stop.” 

“You feel so good.” 

The sun still shining from the edge of the cliff, the blue sky turned dark, cold air breezing past you. 

“The keys aren’t in the car, are they?” You ask, leaning against his chest. A laugh rang out, his hand coming up to his pockets, panicking when they weren’t in there. You raise your hand, swinging the keys around your finger. “You left them in the ignition, saw it when we were, you know.”

 He flushes, turning his head the other way with a ‘hmph!’ “Why don’t you drive this time, huh, maybe then we won’t lock ourselves out.” 

“We’re on a mountain with a lot of wide turns is that a good idea?” He contemplates for a moment, remembering when he let you drive once and raced another car with his shabby 86 and won, only because you drifted the last corner. 

He snatched keys from you, shaking his head. “I choose life.” Laughing, you bump your shoulder against his, standing up from the car. “Come on, I told my mom I’d bring you for dinner.” 

“We need to shower first.” 

“I know, we’ll go to your place and get ready before we leave.” He says, opening his door. 

“Slow down.” 

“Sorry, sorry you feel- god, you feel so good.” 

“That’s the third time this week, horndog.” You mutter, stretching your legs. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, laying his head on your arm. “I couldn’t help myself.” He rubs your waist, pressing small kisses to your arm. “Thanks for giving me a chance, (Name).” 

You hum, turning your head to peck his crown. “Thanks for bothering me at that party.” He laughs at your words, pulling you to rest on top of his chest, legs on either side of his waist. “We were just in this position, give me a break.” 

“Bear with me for a minute babe.” He says, holding the sides of your face, thumbs resting on your bottom lip. “I love you.” Eyes widening, you gape at him, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes. He sits up abruptly at the sight of your tears, wiping them away with his palms. “Hey, why are you crying? Should I not have said it?” He panicked. 

“No no, I’m glad you said it, happy I’m happy.” You mumble, laughing at yourself. “It just caught me off guard.” You lean down to kiss him, tasting the cigarette he had earlier, paired with the familiar strawberry chapstick he wore. “I love you too.” 

[lynneshobbydomain]

Vengeance Chapter 12

((Thank you all so much for the likes and the reblogs and the support. Thank you to @sinfulwonders who works tirelessly with me to beta this. I also wanted to apologize for not updating. As, you all know I was busy with shipweek but I also had a family matter that was very crucial. I am grateful that you all cherish this story as I do. Without further ado, let me continue))

Rating: M

Summary: 

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You can read below the cut or at my AO3

It was the first time Shuichi entered Aki's room since her disappearance, and there was still a heart-sinking feeling that stuck with him as he looked at the place. The faint scent of blackberry and vanilla hung in the air, and the smallest little knick-knacks hadn't been moved or fixed. Her desk was still the organized mess that it was, a planner even folded to the week that she went missing. The planner had different colored inks scrawled across the page, each color symbolizing priorities, and reminders written in quick shorthand. Her curtains draped closed, as they were when she wasn't in the room. There was a corkboard hung on the wall with pictures thumbtacked into its surface. Many of them were of D.I.C.E, of family photos, and some of just him and his cousin. There was only one picture on there of just her back to the camera, and her profile hidden with a wide brim hat. She was walking down the beach with her hands clasped behind her back. The wind must've been blowing since her hair was all over the place. It was a stylistic photo, and the only one he knew of that could wield a camera like that was Ovetere. Which meant this must've been a spontaneous trip that some of the D.I.C.E members took, or they had met up somehow and just decided to mess around with the camera.

His attention left the board to the laptop that was sitting idly on the desk. He knew that this day would come sooner or later. Digging up secrets, he couldn't think of any that Aki would keep, but Takahashi told him one already. She wanted to travel around and keep a distance between her and the Saihara name. Shuichi couldn't fault her for it. He sat down at the desk and turned on the laptop, noting with amusement that the surface covered with different kinds of stickers. Her collection was endless, and it was everywhere. On the consoles of her video games, on the corkboard, on the laptop. He knew if he dug around her bookshelf, he could find her albums of stickers. He waited for the computer to load as he looked around her room again. His furniture matched the dark aesthetic of trying to keep his place as cold and minimalist as possible. Her furnishings were light wood and reflected the light from the overhead fan and the sunlight when she opened the curtains. 

He could almost hear the soft twang of her guitar playing, and he could just visualize her sitting on her bed with her guitar on her lap, curling around it as she focused on practicing a chord or a song. It was a typical scene—a standard memory. Even before Kokichi showed up in their lives, him reading in her room while she practiced was commonplace. It was hard to believe that during fits of insomnia, he wouldn't hear her play anytime soon—no random knocking on doors to check in on each other and trek up to the vending machine. 

Shuichi saw that her laptop was password-protected, but he didn't need to be a hacker to know what it was. He typed it in out of memory and stared at the desktop picture. It was last year's New Year shrine visit. Their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders -Shuichi had to bend down to compromise the height difference-, and they were grinning at the camera. Shuichi's smile is a little more timid and shy, and her bright and beaming. She wore a yukata even though it was freezing and that she should've worn a jacket, and Shuichi bundled up in a scarf and earmuffs. They had taken the picture away from the crowd, but close enough that it could still be seen a little in the background, showcasing the line and the people who were trying to get a wish. 

It startled him to see that this was the picture on her laptop. He didn't think that anyone kept the photo besides Keiko or Koji. He didn't remember Aki requesting the picture, but maybe he hadn't paid attention when he got dragged into the embrace. He felt his eyes burn and a lump form in the back of his throat as he tried to swallow past all of it. He needed to stay focused. Right now, traversing memories wasn't going to solve this case.

Just like that, however, his mind decided to be helpful and remind him that Takahashi said that she was planning to leave the Saihara household. Bracing himself to find nothing but apartment searches and universities for music, he got himself back upright and went onto her internet. 

If anyone wanted to know anyone, whatever they searched on their history told a fair amount of their story. Composing contests, youtube channels dedicated to guitarists and musicians, discussion forums on music...a twitter. Shuichi didn't doubt that Aki networked, trying to see who would bite if she was actively trying to leave, but...there was not a thing that she recently posted on her account that said anything about wanting that. The youtube videos she watched were of people that she admired and actively supported. There was nothing to indicate that she wanted to leave. 

If she was bait, chances were, Danganronpa didn't have a clue until they started researching a little more heavily into her about who she was or didn't have a clue at all since Aki was firmly silent about her name. If it wasn't bait...then, Danganronpa really went out of their way to try to find her. Shuichi just couldn’t imagine his aunt making such a massive wave with a case that it would result in something dramatic as a kidnapping. At the same time, considering that it was nothing more than a snuff game, and everyone was a contestant....he couldn't put it past them. Everything was a possibility right now, and until he heard more from his uncle or his aunt about the Jabberwock Case, nothing was set in stone. 

It didn't fit with Danganronpa's MO. They went after local celebrities, and they stuck with local newspapers. Unless...Shuichi cupped his hand over his mouth as he tried to put himself into Danganronpa's shoes. If they were so slighted about the case that his aunt took, that they were willing to go out of their way to remind the police and law force what kind of power they would be granted...then it wouldn't bother them to research Aki. Take her hobby, and her talent...and taunt her with it as they did with the rest of the contestants. Only instead of being accomplished, they were belittling the fact that she wasn't, and that pissed Shuichi off. 

He confirmed once again that there had indeed been a "reason" for the kidnapping. Shuichi felt confident that Danganronpa just didn't randomly take her from the street. Now to confirm the other piece of the puzzle. He opened her Discord as well as he decided to scroll as much through her history as he possibly could, she seemed to have kept it clear and clean most of the time. Getting on to her Discord, he noticed that she was only a part of two servers, D.I.C.E, and the Musician Symphony.  

The Musician Symphony wasn't an active group, but he could see that there were people that occasionally touched base. Going through the backlogs, Shuichi noticed that Aki tended to lurk more than participate in this server. He roamed through the channels before figuring out that the entire reason why she was there was to see what other people were doing and supporting them. He saw some of the tweets people were posting onto the channel. Some had been re-tweeted by her as a boost. She went through the youtube videos and commented on them, but she'd never discussed how she came across them. 

There was a notification on a familiar icon. Shuichi clicked on it, already having an idea of what he was about to walk into. 

[ Shuffle: Shuichi-chan-san's telling me that you're missing. You're not missing, right? You're home, or you're late or something… ]

[ Shuffle: Aki...please just go home? Please? If you guys had a fight or something, I know Saihara-chan-san will be willing to hear you out...or Ouma-sama-san! ]

Those were all...on the day Aki was reported missing. Shuichi closed his eyes and let out a soft breath. 

A couple of days later, Shuffle tried again to reach out.

[ Shuffle: I know that this isn't going to reach you, we don't know where you are, but I feel like I have to say something anyway. ]

[ Shuffle: I'm really, really scared Aki. ]

[ Shuffle: I'm scared we're going to find you dead. I'm afraid that we're going to find you traumatized. I'm worried that you're...not going to be the Aki that we all know and love. ]

[ Shuffle: I feel so dumb. ]

[ Shuffle: I should've done something. ]

[ Shuffle: Called you, met you closer than the intersection. ]

[ Shuffle: I'm such a terrible friend. Asuka says that I'm not. Tohru says I'm not. Everyone's saying to me that I'm not. ]

[ Shuffle: But I can't even help our leader like you can, Aki. I don't think Saihara-chan-san can help either. ]

[ Shuffle: he just sits at his laptop, all scared. ]

[ Shuffle: Maybe I should just ask for a pancake night. ]

[ Shuffle: There's no point in talking to a ghost that's not gonna reply. ]

Discord didn't shed any new light. Not that Shuichi was expecting it. He clicked off the website and rubbed his eyes, trying to think. Danganronpa knew that something was up. They knew that they were being investigated or that someone was poking around. Getting called up by Jabberwock over the technology only made them paranoid. It was the only theory that Shuichi had that didn't feel like he was stretching to reach a conclusion. 

Maybe they thought someone was getting suspicious over the newspaper clippings and decided to target using other methods? If that was the case, then who got close enough to make Dangnaronpa sweat? Shuichi curled a finger against his chin. He doubted his uncle was the one that pressed them against the wall. At the same time, the theory that Ando had about Aki being bait was...still useful even if Shuichi hesitated to believe it. 

Just what was happening on Jabberwock? What was the technology that was apparently stolen or lost? Why would Danganronpa admit to having it? Why would they even use their name? 

What was their cover story? Shuichi sat straighter. A gut feeling stirred into his stomach, and he decided to just see if he was right. Instead of going into her history tab, which he knew would have nothing, he scrolled through her bookmarks. They were neatly categorized and organized from music to school work, and the abundance of files told him enough that everything had a place. There was one folder that was hidden in the music section; however, that caught his attention.

Travel Plans

Clicking on it, Shuichi saw a list of hotels and maps that were in her bookmarks. They were hot spots in each prefecture. Touristy areas as well as places that were off the beaten path. Shuichi picked one from the list, and saw that there was a museum that was dedicated to the Tragedy. It had been one of the several areas that had been annihilated. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to assume that Aki was looking at history. Her interests were vast: psychology, history...the Tragedy was just both lined into one common event. There was a stigma that surrounded people who studied it and there was shame around those who talked about it. There was an underlying fear that it could happen again, or would happen again. No one wanted to teach the subject besides a quick overview, just in case.

It was probably the same shame that kept Jabberwock Island from being talked about too. Shuichi pursed his lips together as he decided to click on Jabberwock Island’s website. 

The screen turned black, and for one horrifying moment, he thought he was going to see the emblem of Danganronpa spin around in a loading mode. Instead, what appeared to him looked to be like a flower with five sharp petals that were in a circle. As the page loaded, a flower petal colored itself a bright magenta. The page finally came into view, and Shuichi could not believe what he was seeing.

Welcome to Jabberwock Island.

The header had a large white font, and the picture was of the island's map of six islands. The tiny main island that was in the middle of it, and the five larger sections that made up the home. It was an island that was a few months away on a ship, and a decent six-hour flight from Japan.

He quickly found the "history" tab, and he stared in surprise as he read the blurb.

"An island that once used to be an amusement park was abandoned during the Tragedy in 20xx. The Future Foundation had renovated the amusement park into a military base in 20XX and had used it to help rehabilitate the Despair 15, otherwise known as the Remnants of Despair. The Despair 15 have decided to stay on Jabberwock Island after the Tradgey's conclusion in 20xx and self-exiled themselves from Japan. What used to have a horrible history is now flourishing with tourism and immigration.

Hinata Hajime is the island's current Leader alongside Nevermind Sonia, who has strong political ties to the Novoselic Kingdom in Europe."

Shuichi doubted that a website mostly created to try to get traffic into their island would talk about the technology that they once housed or the people that were on the island. The Tragedy. Despair 15. 

Despair 15….

Did...Danganronpa has some sort of history with the Tragedy or with the Remnants of Despair? Shuichi never heard of someone mentioning the Despair 15 before, or of them being called the Remnants of Despair. Shuichi leaned back against the chair, the gears in his mind whirling. Remnants of Despair and Danganronpa. The missing technology. Something prodded in Shuichi’s mind to dig deeper at this. 

First thing first: there was one person that he could talk to during the game that would probably offer him some insight about the event. Maybe there was something that was glossed over in class that would bring all of this together. 

The second thing that he had to worry about was that Aki was going around to explore where the Tragedy hit the hardest.  Her knowledge that she knew about the Island and in turn knew where the Remnants of Despair were located. Not only that, but it was odd to Shuichi that Dangaronpa and Jabberwock had a connection involving the Kamukura technology.

It pained Shuichi to think about it. How much didn't he see because he thought everything was okay? He thought about her statement in the first episode or two. When she proclaimed that she felt lighter. I keep thinking about the cars. I keep seeing them. He didn’t ask where, did he? His stomach turned iced and he felt the world darken at the corners of his eyes. He assumed she was talking about the school, and Aki, who probably didn’t want him to worry any more than he already was, went with it.

He clicked out Aki's computer and shut it down. He went back to his room and booted up his own computer. The darkness of his room helped with the small headache that was starting to pound behind his left eye. He hated stress headaches, and he didn't want to get off track to get medicine when he was so close to the finish line. At least, a finish line of one mystery.

Usually, the episode started at the dining hall when everyone was gathered, but to Shuichi's surprise, the episode started in a room that gave off an unsettling vibe. There was a large monitor that hung from the dorm's ceiling with prominent speakers, which amplified the volume. There weren't any windows in the dorm, and even if there were, the windows would be slated and bolted down so that there was no thought, no hope for escape. The bed was pushed up against the wall. There was also a desk that had a fair amount of papers on it. It's a dorm room, it was neat, and Rantaro was sitting on the edge, running his hand through his hair deep in contemplation.

There was a soft ring of a doorbell, and Rantaro picked his head up. There were superficial circles under his eyes that spoke of a hard night's rest, and he looked disgruntled. He rubbed his eyes and stood up, walking over to the door and opening it. "Kokai-kun?"

"Sorry, da bodder, you." The Ultimate Falconer gave a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He, too, looked as tired as Rantaro looked. "I jus' wanna check in on you."

"I think there's a lot of other people that you should be worried about, I'm fine," Rantaro assured gently. "How are they?"

"Dunno. Came da loo' a' you." Kokai gestured, "You are na fine, an' dat's o' ay." His drawl was a little worse than Shuichi remembered. He wondered if it was from the exhaustion, or if Kokai wasn't trying too hard to speak correctly. He still didn't know where to place that accent...if that even was one. "I was gonna fin' Mayumi-chan an' Shirogane-san."

"Shirogane-san is probably heartbroken," Rantaro murmured. "...Why don't we go looking for them together? How about we start with Shirogane since she's the one that was probably hurt the most? Maybe we can work our way around the school as well."

"Dat' sounds good." Kokai nodded firmly and stepped out so that Rantaro could leave the room. "Where da begin?" He frowned. "I' dough of maybe her lab, bu' I'm na sure where id is."

"It should be in our monopads." Rantaro took the said monopad out and started tapping on the screen.

"I ha' nology," Kokai grumbled. "Pre' y sure id ha'es me do." 

Rantaro blinked, and he looked at Kokai curiously. "You... don't look at the monopads?"

"I can' ge' id da work!" Koka gave his monopad to Rantaro. He merely flicked the screen, and it turned on. The look of incredulity was astonishing, and Shuichi couldn't help but laugh, just as Rantaro chuckled. "I have done dat a dousands dimes! How?!"

"Maybe it's because I'm nice to it?" Rantaro offered as he handed it back to the flabbergasted student. "If you talk to it nicely and you touch it kindly rather than poking and prodding at it, it may be nice to you, and you can actually see where everyone is."

"Id shows you where people are?" Kokai blinked.

Rantaro quickly went through his and proceeded to show him a map. Shuichi frowned deeply, cupping his hand around his mouth. It was a little...eerie that students could keep track of each other. A good thing for a victim to have an understanding and a warning ahead of time. He had to doubt if anyone would use the monopads like that. Maybe some did. 

While they were busy talking about the monopads, Shuichi turned his attention to the chat room and decided to see if Shinigami was on. 

[ Seeker: Everyone's so quiet today. ]

[ Shinigami: Good evening, Seeker-san. It has been quiet. I have not seen Loki-kun around, which is to my pleasure. How are you? ]

[ Seeker: Struggling with History homework. ] It was probably a good thing that Kokichi wasn't in that chat room. Shuichi knew that was a terrible lie, but he hoped that it was hard to tell through the internet. 

[ Shinigami: Perhaps I can be of assistance? I am a scholar of sorts for cultural history. I may not be able to tell you a whole lot of whatever you are trying to accomplish, but I may be able to clarify a few facts. ]

[ Seeker: We’re learning a bit about the Tragedy. I don't really know what to look for online. Any advice? ] Shuichi had to cringe at how bad that lie sounded. He wasn’t getting any better at this.

[ Shinigami: The Tragedy is a complex subject, but...let me see if I can't put it into more... more detailed terms. No one is certain of how the Tragedy began. Some say it started with Hope’s Peak Academy, and the unethical human experimentation that they were doing. Some say that there was a group that made something called Despair Disease and decided to spread it around. My belief, as well as other scholars, is the fact that it was a combination of all these things at once. There were experiments done, just not by the Academy. The Despair Sisters had a hand in it as well.]

[ Shinigami: Allow me to further the conversation about the disease. It would twist the personality into something that was the opposite of them or enhance a part of the depending, and they would act on it. Some were liars, some would follow orders to the death, and some were….some were actively trying to become the same as the Remnants of Despair. Unfortunately for them, the longest they could survive the fever and the dehydration, along with the hallucination, was about three days. ]

[ Shinigami: It was rumored to have happened anyway. Some survivors claim that they saw the disease with their own eyes. ]

[ Shinigami: You have to understand the Remnants of Despair and the people that befell the chaos were….people that would actively torture and kill victims. Torture that included but certainly did not stop at unethical practices of doctoring and experimentation. ]

[ Shinigami: The Tragedy came to a conclusion after the Despair Sisters met their demise during the Hope's Peak revival. ]

[ Shinigami: It took five years after that to rebuild, and another ten to fully recover. ]

[ Seeker: I see. Why is it hard for people to study the event without being cast in a terrible light? ]

[ Shinigami: Humans are afraid of things that they can’t control or predict. The Tragedy was one such instance and there’s a fear that someone will think it’d be a good idea to bring it back. Scholars like myself are even warned to tread carefully around the Tragedy, as there was once a superstition that even mentioning it, let alone studying it, would cause the Despair Disease to flare up again. Ludicrous yes, but...people want to pretend that it’s not as scary as it is. ]

Shuichi let out a long breath as he let the information sink into his mind. 

[ Seeker: Does Danganronpa have anything to do with the Tragedy? ]

[ Shinigami: No. But they were inspired by an aspect of it. ]

Shuichi thought for a moment that Shinigami would go off again and give him the information, but for some reason, that wasn't happening. Shuichi had a feeling that even if he pressed, Shinigami wouldn't say. It must be something to do with his contract about watching the killing games and writing that paper of his. 

There was something about those games then that they were mimicking or were trying to do. Despair 15...

Would it really be off of the mark to think that Danganronpa was attempting to see if falling into despair would be as easy as the Tragedy made it appear? Would it really be off of the mark to think that someone thought that the Remnants of Despair weren't all on Jabberwock Island?

Hope's Peak Academy...Shuichi grabbed his notebook and quietly wrote down the name. He was going to have to do more digging. Here he had hoped that the mystery would be done and over with, but Danganronpa was good at keeping the questions coming. 

They were good at keeping an audience captivated at the screen.

It appeared that Shirogane was indeed in her lab, the boys took a daring look at each other, probably preparing themselves for hysteria, or tears, or other things. Shuichi wondered if he was going to cringe at how they would try to comfort her or be moved that they actually attempted. Rantaro was the one that decided to be brave and knock on the door.

It took a few tries, but Shirogane appeared, looking distraught and heartbroken as Rantaro predicted. Her cheeks were covered in tear stains, her nose was running and red. Her eyes are blotchy and swollen. She did her best to look presentable, but even the Ultimate Cosplayer couldn't hide her misery. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this. I know I'm being so boring right now and-"

"Enough of that." Rantaro frowned as both of the boys moved to be in her lab. The area reminded Shuichi of the backstage or a green room of a show. She had racks of different types of costumes, some of which the backlog chat were animatedly discussing who their favorite anime characters were, and whether or not she'd reference them later in the long run. "Hey...can I hug you, Shirogane-san?"

"I'm all crying and snotty!" Shirogane cried out, her cheeks stained red. "You couldn't-"

"I offered." Rantaro gently coaxed, "Come here." Shirogane didn't seem to be able to hold her ground as she walked towards him as though hypnotized. Kokai watched from the sidelines as they hugged, and Shirogane sniffed. "It's okay," Rantaro whispered, gently stroking her hair. "It's okay. I'm so sorry, Shirogane-san. Yesterday was horrible. For all of us."

"I just wish Chatani-senpai said something." Shirogane whimpered. "I could've done something. I could've told her not to do it. I could've told her to wait. I could've…"

"Done nading." Kokai gently broke the conversation. "She made ‘er choice an' she knew dat id hur' people. Chatani-san an' Yadori-san did deir bes'. Dey wan'ed da escape. Id was a price dey paid."

Rantaro gave him a sharp glare, gripping a little tighter around Shirogane's shoulders and quickly shook his head, as though to warn him about going further.

"No, I know." Shirogane gently pulled away from Rantaro, wiping her eyes and trying to gather herself. "It's just like Death Note when L died, you know? You had all of this hope that they'd wind up friends only for it to be backstabbed and proven wrong." Rantaro and Kokai gave her blank looks, and she giggled nervously. "I'm sorry I don't know how to put it any other way. I'll be okay now. Just gotta keep my chin up. Like Naruto. Believe it!"

"I mean...if that's what makes you feel better." Rantaro rubbed the back of his neck. "It's okay to feel sad though Shirogane-san. We're here to support you no matter what."

"Thank you. You two are excellent friends to me. I'm so happy that a boring and dull girl like me has someone like you two." Shirogane beamed brightly.

"I'm surprised that Mayumi-chan hasn't come by to see you." Rantaro frowned deeply. "I wonder if she's okay."

Tsumugi waved it off. "I told her to go away." She looked down at the ground, distraught and upset. "I said some things...I was really, really angry. I'm a lot calmer now than I had been. I'm sure she's upset with me."

"I dob dat," Kokai assured softly, "Songbird isn' da type da hold a grudge. She understands. Promise."

Shuichi wanted to nod empathetically. While she could be found curled up against someone's door if they were having a hard time, she knew when she wasn't wanted and did leave people alone. Sometimes she knew when someone was just saying it, just to say it rather than mean it. He could remember the times she sat next to him, arms draped around his shoulder as he went through an anxiety attack, trying to shield him. Trying to comfort him. She never wasted her words, she was more than happy to stay silent and just be there. 

Tsumugi nodded as well, seemingly getting a hold of herself. "I'll have to make it up to her. Oh, ask her what kind of cosplay she'd do." She looked at the boys. "Please?"

"Sure." Kokai agreed, and Rantaro also nodded his agreement. "Bu' are ya goin' da be okay?"

"I'll be fine...I just...need today is all…" Tsumugi looked at the ground for a moment. "Have you checked in on Yuya-san?"

"No." Rantaro folded his arms. "You think she might need someone to talk to?"

"She loved Yadori-san, so I imagine she'd be just as heartsick as I am over Chatani-chan." Tsumugi shrugged helplessly. "I don't know if anyone's willing to reach out to her since she's a little out there."

[ Loki: Awwww, is this going to be another boring episode? So lame!!!!! ]

[ Shinigami: Ah, that's right, you missed the brutal execution and murder episode, didn't you? ]

[ Loki: Oh no, I saw that with my boyfriend <3. We were ecstatic that the two more boring ones died first. Looks like it wasn't the chemist, after all, Shiny! ]

[ Shinigami: Much to my displeasure, but I still hold the belief firm that she'll be a culprit sooner or later. ]

[ Loki: Are you still thinking that the cosplay chick and guacamole are going to be the survivors? ]

[ Shinigami: You know, my bet on Shirogane-san is wavering just slightly as Mayumi-san has proven herself to be survivor material. At the same time, I have a different theory about her. ]

[ Loki: Are you going to tell? ]

[ Loki: Hey! ]

[ Loki: Hey! ]

[ Loki: Hey! ]

 [ Shinigami: it really is a shame that we're merely separated by a screen. I would love to tear your vocal cords out. That being said, yes. I do have a theory. Yes, I will share it. My first theory is that Mayumi-chan is a Mastermind. ]

Aki? A Mastermind? That was too far off the grid. What good was a mastermind that couldn't remember that they were a mastermind? That just...does not make any amount of sense. It would be a cheap shot as well to try to get her murdered. 

[ Seeker: I highly doubt that. ]

[ Shinigami: Granted, that does seem a bit off. My other theory is that she is going to be playing this season's Traitor. ]

Shuichi wondered how much of this was a hidden message, and how much of this was Danganronpa's actual plan. He was going to have to get his uncle to ask about those case files sooner rather than later. He was going to have to see for himself just what kind of an impact this case had made, and why they'd get so angry only to find Aki.

It made him worried about why they didn't bother to go after him…

Unless…

If that was indeed the case, then this was beyond fucked up. Shuichi decided to stomp that theory down until he had more concrete evidence to say that was the case. For now, he needed to focus on what he actually had and what he even knew. 

"Danks. Can dat ding find her?" Kokai asked as both of the boys decided to exit the room. "Yuya-chan may na wanna 'alk da us."

"No, but we should try and let her know that she and Shirogane are in the same boat so that they have a support system." Rantaro frowned. "Then we can see how everyone else is doing. We may come across Mayumi-chan that way too."

"...Why do ya care?" Kokai frowned suddenly. 

Rantaro froze, and for a moment, Shuichi thought he wasn't going to try to reply. "Do you have any siblings, Kokai-kun?"

"Yes." Kokai nodded. "I have a sis." 

"Older or younger?"

"Does id madder?" Kokai frowned a little but thought for a moment. "I'm de old one." 

"So maybe you'll get it kind of," Rantaro muttered softly to himself. "Let's just say... I'm an older brother too."

"....Wow." Kokai paused. "You're a bedder, big bro 'han me."

"Why do you say that?"

"If dat was my sis cryin' in dere." He gestured towards the lab behind him. "I'd dell ‘er da suck id up loser."

Shuichi covered his face with his hands and groaned loudly. Rantaro let out a startled laugh, as though he hadn't been expecting that.

[ Loki: Wooow. That's cruel. Then again, I'd do the same thing easy peasy. ]

Instead of bantering, Shinigami went oddly silent. Shuichi wondered if this was an intricate subject for the person on the other end of the computer. Not everyone had a good or decent relationship with their sibling.

Shuichi thought back at his relationship with his cousin. He couldn't keep track of how often his cousin went after him and made sure that he was okay. How often she talked him down from an anxiety attack after an anxiety attack, how often she saw him cry. He couldn't remember the last time he saw Aki burst into tears. They fought...but Shuichi couldn't even call those fights. Everyone around them, Kokichi included, tended to say that they acted as though they were on a debate team. 

Shuichi remembered when Aki made him cry. He couldn't remember the fight, but he remembered her words: at least my parents didn't abandon me like a puppy at someone's front door. Shuichi held a grudge against her for a while for it; he wondered if he got her back. She always seemed to have such a firm grip on herself...it made Shuichi worry. He couldn't remember the last time he saw her cry.

He turned his attention back to the episode. Rantaro and Kokai were at a tiny little shack that was pretty far away from any of the school buildings. The shack looked as though it were about to crumble. It was barely being held up by anything but nails and some wires. Gonoji was standing on a ladder outside. His pliers were in his hands, and Yuya was standing outside, hands on her hips as she watched.

"What are you two doing?" Rantaro asked.

"Oh, hey, guys! What's crackalackin?!" Yuya grinned, turning to face them. She looked as though she just had gotten a little fried from something. Her clothes were smoking slightly as well as the ends of her hair. "I was trying to fix up my lab, but the wires were all messed up, so I asked Gonoji-kun if he could take a gander at it! Voila!"

"Da need help?" Kokai called up.

"No man, I got it." Gonoji grinned as he jumped down from his position on the ladder and looked at Yuya. "I think we might want to ask Monokuma to give you a better lab. This isn't exactly safe."

"But, it's gonna burn down anyway." Yuya pouted. "What good is a good building if I can't burn it down? The outdoors is my lab anyway, not that tiny little thing."

"Okay, okay!" He laughed, holding his hands out. "I get it. Well, I'll get out of your hair then. You got company, and I don't want to be in the way."

"Actually, I was going to come to find you anyway," Rantaro gave them both a kind smile. "I was just...seeing how you two were doing. Since...yesterday."

"I'm a firm believer that when things go bad, they go bad," Gonoji said simply. "Work keeps the demons away. I'm grateful that I was able to provide it too. I may just be in my lab trying to do something or another." He looked at Yuya. "Unless you think that Shimhara might want me to make the lights brighter on his stage or something."

"God, I don't know with that dick." Yuya frowned. "You can try, but he might just tell you off for thinking that his place is less than perfect."

"Or call ya da help." Kokai's shoulders slumped slightly.

"Now, now, it was a bad day." Rantaro gently chided. "Let's give him a chance to redeem himself."

"Oh, there's no redeeming people like him, Ran-Ran, but you sure as hell can try." Yuya scoffed. "Good luck, Gogai-kun I don't want to be you."

Gonoji laughed but walked off without another word. Rantaro and Kokai watched him leave before turning back to the arsonist, who was looking at her shack with a big smile plastered on her face. Yuya looked exactly like Kokichi would when a big idea hit, and decided to cause problems on purpose. Shuichi wouldn't doubt that her knowledge of fire and explosives would also go into firecrackers and gunpowder. 

"You sure you're okay? Shirogane-san…"

"Yadori-san lied to me." Yuya broke Rantaro off. "I know you mean well, but... I'm not really grieving here; I'm fucking furious. I'm gonna lit a bitch and watch it burn. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to do that, which gets the message across. You dig me?"

"You're scary." Kokai let out a short breath. "I dun wanna be on your bad side."

"Aw. You're lovely, Kokai-kun." Yuya beamed, "I don't want to be on yours either. So let's make a promise to not make promises, yeah? They're just gonna get broken in the end. If you excuse me, lads, I have a date with a fire extinguisher. Later, crocodiles." 

".... That's not exactly how that phrase goes." Rantaro watched her slam the door of the little shack, and it rattled violently enough that it threatened to fall. 

"'Elling her dat will be a mis'ake." Kokai winced, sweating beading down the side of his face. Shuichi didn't doubt that at all. Yuya was stubborn for the sake of it. Talking to her when she was angry wasn't going to get anywhere. She might want to speak when she calmed down some, but...Shuichi couldn't blame her if she decided to hold a grudge. He didn't like people lying either. Kokichi was terrible at it, he drove Shuichi up the wall, but there were differences in the lies that he told and the ones that Yadori had said. 

There was a difference in someone murdering to protect someone, and killing because they thought it was the right thing to do. Shuichi tugged on his hat, despite that there was no way they would be able to see him.

The episode ended without any mention of the flashback light, but Shuichi didn't doubt that was going to be the next thing to be touched upon in the next few episodes. That is if no one decided to go after each other without needing much more than a reason. It was disturbing how easy it had been for the first murder to take place. Just a seed of doubt and that was that it took for two people to wind up dead.

That flashback light may not have to even try hard at all to get the rest of the group paranoid enough to kill each other. Shuichi quietly logged off of Danganronpa, his mind whirling over the information that he had received, and the knowledge that he was slowly obtaining. 

It wasn't going to be a comfortable night tonight. 

                                                         X

[ Stolen Heart: I don't think Aki-chan would be a traitor, do you? ]

Shuichi glanced at the corner of his phone to see that it was nearing three in the morning. Currently, he was trying to figure out a way to sleep, but his mind kept mulling over the information that he had gathered from the game and from Aki's laptop. He couldn't help but feel the same disconnect that most families felt when they were confronted with evidence that the person that they loved wasn't who they thought. 

At the same time, Shuichi didn't really ask her about any of it. If he had...would he still be surprised? Maybe. He doubted Jabberwock would've come up in conversation. Regardless, he decided to respond to Kokichi despite how late it was at night. He needed the distraction, and perhaps so did his lover. 

[ Me: It's more of a possibility than a mastermind. ]

Shuichi closed his eyes as he rested the phone against his chest, feeling the exhaustion creep upon him. Just how badly did Keiko fuck Danganronpa over?

That night he had the weirdest dream of a train going by, Aki was dangerously close to the edge of the stop. Her hair violently whipping across the wind. He remembered reaching out. He didn't remember the conversation, but he remembered her turning her head towards him, and a simple sentence crashed him awake.

Don't you choke now.

[meownotgood]

bloodthirst. / hayakawa aki

When your mission goes horribly wrong, you and Aki are left injured and cornered. Thankfully, for a devil like you, healing your injuries is easy. All you need to do is drink a human's blood.

pairing: hayakawa aki x gn!reader

word count: 6.4k

tags: 18+, blood play, blood sucking, biting, dry humping, grinding, finger sucking, praise, reader is a devil hybrid, aki is a bit mean, power imbalance (aki is the reader's superior), reader refers to aki as "sir"

this work contains explicit content intended for 18+ individuals. please read the tags and do not interact if you are a minor.

God, he's stupid. 

If only he was smarter, if only Aki had used his brain for more than two seconds and maybe considered the fact that the devils would ambush you both like this, then maybe this wouldn't have been happening right now. If only he was stronger, strong enough to hold his own against the devil horde, instead of needing to rely on some insolent, disgusting devil to protect him and drag him to safety. Stupid. 

Aki's hand returns to clutch his side the second he's finished barricading the door. There's a pounding in his head, and a dull sting coming from right under his ribcage, where one of the devils lashed him. He can feel blood, warm and wet as it soaks through the fabric of his shirt, pooling over his palm, staining his skin crimson. 

Shit, shit, shit- You're hurt, what do we do? We're so fucking screwed- 

Your voice barely registers over the ringing in his ears and the haze quickly overtaking his mind. Aki stumbles backwards, and when his back hits the wall of the small storage room, he slides down, collapsing on the ground. His side hurts like all hell, but there's also an ache coming from his ankle; he tripped while the two of you were running away, and with his luck, he probably sprained the damn thing. 

I just, what the hell are we supposed to do?! Neither of us can fight like this, are we gonna die? We're gonna- 

"Fucking- Shut up, will you?" Aki snaps, wincing the second the words finish leaving his mouth. Just trying to speak hurts. He presses his palm firmer against his side, grunting from the immediate sharp sting of pain. "We're not… We're not gonna die. Just calm down." 

At least, Aki thinks you're not gonna die. 

Damn devils, they're craftier than he thought they'd be. When he first got the call for this mission — Yeah, it's a bunch of little devils, not sure what they are, but they seem pretty weak — Aki assumed the two of you would be able to handle this by yourselves, no problem. But when you arrived at the scene, "a bunch of little devils" turned into a swarm of them, and "they seem pretty weak" turned out to be an outright lie. Perhaps he should have asked for more back-up. 

Either way, you're not gonna die. Aki will find a way out of this, he always does. He has to, because with the way you're currently pacing about, gnawing nervously on your fingernails, muttering anxiously to yourself, it's pretty safe to assume you won't be of much help. 

There must be some way, something he can — No, he can't move. Maybe you can, no, shit, that's not gonna work… 

"Aki?" 

Your voice rouses Aki from his thoughts. You've stopped pacing now, that's good. But you're still shifting from heel to heel, a nervous expression on your face, your hand pressed to a particularly nasty scrape on your cheek. "You have a plan, right?" 

Aki leans back until his head hits the wall with a gentle thunk. He exhales an exasperated sigh, blowing air out through his mouth in an attempt to push his sweaty bangs out of his face. 

No, he doesn't have a plan. In what world would he have a fucking plan for this? 

"How well can you move? On a scale of one to ten." Aki asks through ragged breaths, his mouth hung open, his chest rising and falling with vigor. Sweat is beginning to form at his brow in little droplets, cascading down to drip from his jaw. 

You answer, "Like, a six? Or a six and a half?" You're staring down at your feet like your untied shoelaces hold the key to get out of here, and you press your palm further into your cheek. 

"I can move okay. But I don't have enough blood to transform… I can take your sword but I- I don't know how to use it."

Aki stares listlessly at your shadow projected on the ceiling, traveling back and forth as you begin to pace again. 

There's no way he's moving, that's out of the question. If he stands up, he's just going to hurt his ankle, putting him out of commission even more than he already is. And he can't summon Kon here, either — She'd eat the devils, sure, but she'd also probably topple the whole building. Guaranteed extermination of the devils means nothing if the two of you are left buried under a pile of rubble. 

Aki racks his brain as much as his headache will allow. If he can't do anything, then his only hope is to rely on you. Yeah, he really doesn't want to do that, but he's not sure he has a choice in the matter. And if you're going to help him, if you're going to be of any use… 

Right then, Aki remembers something he was told shortly after he became acquainted with you. He found it hard to believe at first, but he eventually came to terms with the fact that you're a devil, but not an ordinary sort of devil. No, his boss would be too kind to stick him with someone who's at all easy to understand. You're not just a devil, but a human as well, and this means that unlike normal devils, there's a way you can recover some of your strength. A way you can regenerate, in simple terms. 

Aki leans forward, off of the wall, his back slumping. "Hey, devil." 

You freeze in place, turning towards him and standing to attention the second you hear his stern voice. Aki's eyes meet yours for what must be the first time in hours; his eyelids are heavy with exhaustion, but his gaze is as sharp as ever. He gives you a once over, his shoulders tensing, the bridge of his nose knotting up with slight irritation. 

"Do you think if you can transform, you can get us the hell out of here?" 

"I… I think so. Yessir," You stutter, nodding your head feverishly, although you don't sound too sure of yourself. 

Aki's lips purse into a thin line for a moment, before he replies, "And you can heal by drinking someone's blood, right?" 

Your eyes widen, your posture straightens. "I can. Yeah." 

"Alright, okay." Aki leans back again. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat when he swallows, and with one hand still pressed deft to his side, blood beginning to drip down his knuckles, he uses the other to gesture towards you, crooking a shaky finger in his direction. "C'mere." 

You hesitate for a second, but when Aki grumbles out, Hurry up, you're swiftly stumbling over to him on unsteady feet. You walk to stand by his side, kneeling down beside him. Your fingers twiddle in nervousness as you fold your hands in your lap, staring at him with anticipation. 

Aki twists, huffing a frustrated breath when he scoots back to prop himself up more. His free hand comes to grasp your chin, his fingers trembling slightly, his touch smearing his blood over your skin. He yanks you forward rather roughly, his thumb ghosting over your lips, his eyes locked onto yours. 

You can hear the sound of his breathing: heavy, shaky, like it takes a lot of effort just to expel the air from his tired lungs. You're so lost in the way he's staring at you, the determined look in his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering, sweat dripping from his forehead, his lips quivering ever-so slightly — You almost miss it when he quietly commands through half-gritted teeth, "Hold still. And open your mouth." 

The harsh tone of his voice makes you obey before you're even thinking about it. You press your hands firmly to your knees to steady yourself, your lips parting open — Aki squeezes your cheeks, his eyes narrow, and he shoots you a look so sharp you're sure it could cut right through you. He scolds you between ragged breaths: "No… No. Wider. Don't make me say it again." 

Your mouth opens wider, wider, but you hardly have time to complain about the way your jaw begins to ache. Aki brings two of his blood-soaked fingers, middle and index to your lips, wasting no time shoving them in. 

His movements are clumsy, forced; Aki presses his fingertips to your tongue, and he shoves the digits so far down your throat you feel like gagging, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You can taste his blood on your tongue, metallic and sharp, stale. Rich like his cigarettes, and so fucking delicious. Your senses feel heightened, your heart pounding faster, your face heating up. 

Shit, you shouldn't be doing this, should you? You're not sure if this is appropriate, a devil drinking a devil hunter's blood, and your superior, fucking Hayakawa's blood, no less. You swear you heard somewhere that devils can get put down for something like this. But, do you really have a choice in the matter? Aki is the one who instructed you to do this, and even if he hadn't, how else were the two of you supposed to get out of this mess? Listening to whatever he tells you to do is the best call here, surely.

Either way, it doesn't matter. You don't have the time to debate about what you should or shouldn't be doing, and now that you've had a drop, now that you know how good Aki tastes, you wouldn't be able to stop yourself, not even if you tried. 

Your knees are starting to shake — You're losing your balance, and it makes things ever the more clumsier. Aki tries to hold your face still, but you're wobbling and teetering, choking on his fingers, pulling back from him instinctively when he shoves them in too far. 

"Tch," Aki scoffs, and you gasp when he suddenly drags his fingers out of your mouth. He eyes them with a look of disgust, his lips pursing, and he promptly wipes your saliva off on his pant leg. "Dammit, didn't I tell you to hold still? You're making this difficult." 

"Sorry, sir." 

Aki winces when he presses his hand to his side once more, soaking his fingers in more of his own blood. "Try again," He commands, holding your face tightly, tapping his finger against your cheek to coax your mouth to open for him. 

"Don't move so much this time, and make sure you lick it all up. The more blood you get, the sooner we can get the hell out of here. Got it?" 

With your mouth open wide, and with Aki already shoving his fingers back in, all you can do is nod. 

He's a little gentler this time, a little more patient, carefully smearing blood from his fingertips over the flat length of your tongue. You're still shifting, although not as much as before; Aki notices when your hand slips from your knee to his leg, gripping him tightly to keep your footing. 

Aki sighs. His free hand shifts to your waist, and he carefully pushes you closer — Come here. — until you're climbing over him, your legs on either side of him. And then, when your knees tremble and start to give out, you're plopping your weight on top of him, settling into his lap. Aki tries not to notice, but your weight pressed against him makes his breath hitch in his throat, and causes his heart to pound just a little bit faster. 

He's unable to take his eyes off of you, both from the display, and from how close you are; your tongue swirls around the length of his fingers, and your eyelids grow heavy, gaze lust-filled as you eagerly taste his blood. When you've licked up everything, his digits soaked from your saliva, you bob your head. Your soft lips wrap around the base of his fingers, his digits practically down your throat. 

Your gaze flickers upward, then, until you're staring at him with doe eyes, with a look that's a mix of desire and indecision. Aki swallows down the lump in his throat, and he watches as you give his fingers a gentle suck, as if you still need more, as if you're trying to suck the blood right out of his pores. 

Feeling the pressure, Aki abruptly drags his fingers out of your mouth again. He eyes you up and down; you wait for him to tell you to get off of him, to scold you for what you're trying to do. Instead, he simply clears his throat awkwardly, before he asks, "So? Can you transform now?"

Your tongue darts out to lick the remaining smears of blood from your lips. "I don't think so. Sorry. It takes a lot more blood if I get it in this way." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I'll regenerate faster if the blood is fresh." 

Aki's eyes widen. He shoves his bottom lip between his teeth, and he glances towards the door; still barricaded, for now. And although there's no sign of the devils, if he focuses hard enough, he can hear a faint scratching sound, the echo of the devil's claws as they scrape against the door. 

Aki doubts they'll be able to get in for a while, considering the way he's blocked the entryway. But they know where the two of you are, they're clearly growing impatient, and he's losing blood, lots of blood. It's beginning to drip and pool below him, collecting in a deep crimson puddle on the concrete floor. Fuck, can he even afford to lose any more? 

It doesn't matter, he can't think about it. He can't hesitate, he just can't. He's already a liability, anyways, and there's no time to lose. If Aki wants to have any hope of getting out of here, he needs to place his full trust in you. 

Aki grips his side again, pressing his palm firm to his wound to try and lessen the bleeding. He reaches up with his free hand, grasping his tie, loosening it. He pops the first few buttons on his dress shirt. Then, Aki hooks a finger around his collar, tugging it down, tilting his head up, exposing the bare skin of his nape. 

"C'mon, then." Aki's eyes flicker down, then back to your face, gesturing exactly what he means. "Bite me." 

"Are… Are you sure I should-" 

"Fuck, just do as I say." Aki orders, speaking through a deep sigh, his shoulders slumping. 

You eye him up and down. Your throat feels dry, your mouth starting to water. Aki's chest rises and falls, rises and falls. You can see the way his blood covers his hand, the way it pools onto the ground, echoing a faint drip, drip sound when the droplets splatter onto the concrete. 

When he sees you start to lean in, Aki allows his eyes to flutter shut, his head hazy. He focuses on his breathing: in, out. Nice and slow. Calm down, just relax. Just make sure you stay awake — Your breath is warm when it fans out over his skin, your lips are soft when they hesitantly press to the nape of his neck — You'll be out of this soon, it'll be fine, it'll be… 

Aki inhales a sharp breath in through his teeth, feeling an instant, searing hot pain as soon as your incisors sink into his soft, tender flesh. You bite down hard, breaking a layer of skin; a small wound forms, and you suck on it harshly, drawing flesh blood. 

His hand flies up to grip your shoulder, and his hips squirm a little under your weight. Beneath your lips, you can feel the way Aki's pulse thrums eagerly, and in your ears, you can hear the way his breath comes out quicker, shallower. 

You're so damn close, shoved up against him on his lap. So close he can feel you — One of your hands is pressed deft to his chest, feeling the pound of his heartbeat, and the other gripping his jaw, tilting his head up to give you better access to his neck. So close, Aki can fucking smell you, so sweet and intoxicating, your scent mixed with the sharp, metallic smell of blood that lingers in the air. 

And when your tongue presses to his skin, your breath warm, your mouth wet, the wound stinging when your tongue flicks, licking up more of his blood — Aki exhales a shuddery groan, and he drags his hand up to squeeze your neck, then up further to carefully hold the back of your head. 

"S-Shit," Aki gasps, his grip tightening on your hair, "Is that… is that not enough? Are you sure you- Oh, fuck-"

Aki stutters into a moan when you shift on his lap, grinding your hips against where he's growing stiff beneath you, your teeth nipping at a new, tender spot on his nape. His cock is tenting his slacks, throbbing incessantly, already so fucking hard, and your mouth sucking bruises into his neck just makes him throb even harder. 

His head feels woozy, his whole body overwhelmed by the intoxicating combination of pain and pleasure. Your hips grind against his cock, making his side throb, but his whole body tingle. Your mouth feels hot on his neck: soft lips and sharp teeth, so rough, but so gentle at the same time. 

God, he's so fucking hard; was all of this just because of how close you are, just from your mouth on his neck? Aki feels dribbles of precum soak his boxers when you grind down on him once more — This time, with much more deliberation. Soft, little whimpers fall from his mouth, punctuated by shaky breaths. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck…" Aki's eyelids flutter, his eyes threatening to roll into the back of his head, and he whines when you roll your hips into his stiff cock, "You're- I c-can't, I-"

You freeze, suddenly. Aki catches his breath as you pull back, wiping the blood smeared on your lips with the back of your hand. When you meet his eyes, Aki is staring at you with a pathetic, desperate look in his gaze, his pupils blown wide. You watch as it shifts into annoyance, the bridge of his nose knotting up, his jaw clenching, his hands moving to firmly grip your hips. 

Aki grinds you down onto him in tandem with his hips bucking upward. He grunts softly, his eyes shut, and little rocks of his hips grind his hard cock between your legs. When he speaks again, his voice is weak, but it still has an irritated, stern tinge to it, the kind of tone you only hear when he's scolding you: "Don't stop, don't fucking stop. That's an order." 

Aki begins to rock his hips slightly, shaky moans and gasps falling from his lips. His mouth is parted, his face is flushed out: a shade almost as red as the blood that's beginning to soak through the fabric of his suit jacket, painting his white dress shirt in a shade of vivid crimson. 

His hands trail up, up, feeling the curves of your sides, smearing blood from his palms over your shirt. He grips you tightly, guiding you to grind down on him to a deep, slow rhythm. "That's it," Aki praises; he can feel the delicious friction on his stiff cock, even through his slacks. He's so hard it aches. "God, just like that, juuuust like that." 

Your hands move to grab his shoulders to steady yourself, and after a particularly strong grind down and thrust up, Aki suddenly gasps — One of his hands flies to grip his side, his eyes screw shut, and his breath comes out quickly, in between his shuddery winces in pain. 

"Shit, Aki?" Your tone shifts into worry in an instant, your expression softening. "Are you okay?" 

The both of you need to get out of here, and soon. Aki knows this; he knows he's losing blood, lots of it, and giving you more of what he already doesn't have definitely didn't help things. His head feels fuzzy and light, like he's high, like he's dizzy. When he tries to open his eyes, the whole room is spinning, and his vision is blurred at the edges. 

Aki knows the two of you need to get out, he knows he should stop messing around. He knows this, so why is he not doing it? And he knows he shouldn't be thinking all of these disgusting thoughts, but he just can't stop his mind from wandering. Why does he want you so badly, why does he need you so badly? Why is he so, so stupid? 

"Yeah, yeah, just- It's just, dammit-" Aki's eyebrows furrow, and he presses his palm even harder to his side. "Just keep going. I'm gonna be fine, okay?" 

You eye him with a look of concern, but quietly nod your head in response. Carefully, you readjust your position, and then you give your hips an experimental roll against him; Aki sighs deeply, his eyes rolling up, his head slowly falling back to hit the wall behind him. His prominent Adam's apple bobs when he swallows, and a low groan falls from his mouth when you press yourself even harder onto his crotch. 

There's no answer as to why, Aki realizes. At least, he can't come up with one. But he can't seem to come up with a reason to push you off of him, either.

The door is barricaded. He can't hear the devils outside of it anymore. He's still bleeding, but not as harshly as before. He'll be fine. You have time. You can make good use of it.

"Shit, shit, don't stop… A-Ah, fuck-" Aki whines, sounding a little too pathetic for his liking, but he can't help himself; the way you're rhythmically rubbing yourself up against him, the sounds of your quiet whimpers and gasps, and the fact that he can't do anything about it — It's making him go fucking crazy. 

His hands shake when he grabs your hips again, guiding you to grind down on him deeper, harder, and his voice is stern when he commands, "Do it like this, fucking please." 

God, if only he could take control right now, if only those goddamn devils hadn't torn him up like this. The throbbing pain in his side makes it so he can hardly move. He can't buck his hips up into you like he so desperately wants to, like he needs to. All he can do is beg, and rely on you to give him the friction he's craving. 

Hell, if he was able to move right now, he wouldn't even bother with that — Aki would take you in whichever way he wants. If his ankle wasn't messed up, if he wasn't practically bleeding to death, he'd have you bent over for him, right in this storage room, while he shoves his aching cock deep into you. He'd fuck you exactly how he pleases, and he knows you, like the good little subordinate you are, would take it. 

As much as you get on his nerves, and as much as you are a stupid devil, you're always so good to him. Always there at his beck and call, always listening intently to every order you're given. You'd listen to whatever the hell he says, because you're always so eager to please him, aren't you? 

Yeah, you are. That's why you're grinding against him eagerly, to the rhythm he's set with his grip on your waist. That's why when Aki holds you tighter, his voice rough, bordering on a growl when he commands, Bite me, again, you're obeying immediately, your head dipping until your fangs connect with the bruised flesh of his nape. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you suck at the wound on Aki's neck, his blood metallic on your tongue. Aki hisses, the pain sharp, but so fucking good. His hips shift, and you take the hint, grinding down on him so deeply it causes him to moan, his cock throbbing hard in his slacks, leaking wet precum onto his briefs. 

When you pull away, Aki meets your eyes, staring at you with a look in his gaze you could only describe as insatiable. His chest heaves with each breath, and his jaw clenches from the pain, or perhaps the pleasure, or perhaps both. 

Maybe it's because of the blood loss screwing with his head, or maybe it's because of how amazing you're making him feel, but Aki suddenly can't tear his gaze away from your lips. He finds himself gripping your chin between his fingers, tugging you closer, closer, and when your lips press to his own, he's truly lost any sense of control he was hoping to hold onto. 

Aki kisses you deeply, his hand moving to hold the back of your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. You press closer, and he pulls you in, as close as he can get you. He nibbles on your bottom lip, his tongue swirls with yours, and fuck, he can taste his own blood, metallic and sharp — The feeling takes him even higher. 

In the heat of the kiss, Aki tugs your dress shirt out from where it's tucked in your slacks, shoving his hands under, gliding his palms over your bare skin. His touch is cold, and his fingers are calloused, rough when they skim up your sides. Then, down, where his large hands grab your ass, groping and squeezing. You whimper into his mouth, and Aki groans in unison. 

He tastes good, so good, so delicious you can't help but want more. Your body feels warm, your head feels floaty; you can't stop your hands from gliding up and down his chest, from hastily unbuttoning his suit jacket, from reaching up to tug it off his shoulders. You grip his tie, next, loosening it until it hangs limp around his collar, allowing you to start working at his dress shirt. 

You stop when it's been unbuttoned halfway, exposing his flushed chest, his defined collarbones, the scars on his skin. You pull away to place urgent kisses on his jaw, his cheeks, his ear — Aki shivers, your lips soft on his skin, your teeth sharp when they nip at his chest, then his collarbones, nibbling at the sensitive bone. 

As you kiss his lips again, one of your hands fists his collar, shoving him further against the wall, while the other glides through his hair; you yank at his hair tie, until the dark strands come loose from his topknot, falling to frame the sides of his face. 

Aki isn't sure what overtakes you. Perhaps it was the thirst for blood that's ingrained into the minds of every devil, including yours. Or perhaps your desperation simply made you rougher, less aware of what you're doing with your own fangs. Either way, when you suddenly bite down on his tongue, Aki can't hold back a gasp in pain, nor can he stop his hands from gripping you so hard he's sure your skin will bruise. 

And yet, he keeps kissing you, he doesn't stop, because he can't. He presses himself up further into you, his cock throbbing so hard you can feel it pulse between your legs, his stiff bulge shoved right up against you — Aki's tongue stings, but his dick feels so fucking good, waves of pleasure surging through his body from the way you desperately hump him. 

You suck the blood from his tongue, lick it all off his teeth, your head getting higher at the taste. Energy surges through your body like a drug, lightning up every nerve, making you move faster, even needier. When you pull apart, connected by a bloodied line of saliva between your tongues, Aki is practically panting, gasping for air between each rough grind into him. 

"G-God," Aki chokes out, his nails digging into your sides so hard you're sure it'll leave marks, just as your hands come to grip his broad shoulders. His face is warm, flushed pink, all the way to the tips of his ears. 

"Does it feel good?" You ask with a shaky voice, as if you're desperate to hear his praise, to know how amazing you're making him feel. 

Aki nods feverishly, "So good, s-so fucking good. Don't stop," His eyes meet your own, his pupils blown wide, his eyelids heavy. "I want you to make me cum." 

If that's what he wants, then he's going to get it. If that's what your superior is ordering you to do, if that's what Hayakawa is asking of you, you're gonna make him cum, you're sure of it. 

"Mhmm," Your eyes screw shut, your head dips, forehead pressed to his shoulder, "Yes, sir." 

Your pace picks up, your thrusts into him getting harder, faster — Aki guides you by your hips roughly, until he's practically using you to get off, like you're his toy. You can feel the warmth from his stiff cock between your legs, how it throbs and twitches, the way it seems to swell even more when your fingers run through his long hair, gripping close to the scalp. 

"Fuck, you're so good to me," Aki whines, and he grabs the back of your neck to tug you off his shoulder. You meet his sharp gaze, his eyes filled with lust and need. His words slur a little when he asks, "You want some more?" 

Judging by the hungry way he looks at you, and the way he moves to press his hand to his side, you know exactly what he's talking about. You give him a particularly desperate roll of your hips, eliciting a groan from him, before you're babbling, "Yeah, yeah, yes please, yessir-"

"No," Aki scolds, cutting you off. He lifts his hand from his side; the blood smeared on his fingers is mostly dried and stale, so he brings them to his lips. He gathers saliva in his mouth, then spits a glob onto the digits, getting them nice and wet. His spit drips down his knuckles, stained red from the mix of the blood on his fingers, and the blood that still lingered in his mouth, on his tongue.

Aki looks up towards you, a frustrated sort of look on his face, his eyes narrowing. "Ask me again. Say my name." 

"I- Sorry, yes, please, Hayakawa, sir." You stammer, hardly able to get out the words, your hips shifting a little in impatience.

"Tch, you're close," Aki scoffs. He presses his fingertips to your lips, his spit dripping down them, and his free hand snakes around to grip your cheeks, squeezing to hold you still. "First name." 

"Please, please, Aki." 

Your voice is so desperate, so needy — The way you say the syllables of his name makes it sound so fucking pretty, and Aki can't get enough of it. 

He rewards you, shoving his soaked fingers in your mouth, allowing you to lick them clean. You taste his spit, his blood — Your tongue swipes over his knuckles, and you let out little gags as you choke on his fingers, struggling to take them with the way you're still grinding against his lap; the sound just turns Aki on even more than he already was. 

Aki pushes you off of him just a little, adjusting your position on his thighs, before he grabs one of your hands, guiding it between his legs. Voice sultry and rough, dripping with lust, he leans forwards to whisper the dirtiest words into your ear. 

Look, I'm so fucking hard here. You feel it throbbing? 

You nod as Aki scissors his fingers in your mouth, using his other hand to guide you to squeeze his cock — He's so warm, so thick, so hard, and his breath hitches when you palm him, his eyes fluttering shut. Aki hastily pushes your hand away, grabbing your waist and pulling you back onto him, in tandem with shoving his fingers further down your throat. 

He can't help but utter a string of commands, his voice deep and stern, because he knows you'll listen to them. He knows you'll give him exactly what he wants. 

Shit, suck on them. And grind against me harder, get me close. 

You're obliging the second you hear his voice in your ear: you suck hard on his fingers, sputtering around them, drool leaking out from the corner of your mouth. You grind on his length harder, rougher, each roll of your hips shoving you so close against his aching cock. Even through his slacks, the friction is perfect, and Aki feels heat begin to pool in the pit of his stomach. 

His eyelashes flutter, his heart pounds in his chest. His grip starts to grow loose, and his breath comes out faster, faster, faster. 

That's it, just like that. Such a good little devil. Say my name again.

His praise gets you higher, your mind foggy, your vision hazy. Mumbling around his fingers, you chant his name over and over again — Aki, Aki, Aki, each time seeming to push him closer and closer to the edge. Aki's head is just as dizzy, swirling from the lust, from the blood loss. It feels like he can hardly think, can hardly muster up coherent thoughts; all he can do is drown in the pleasure and the way his own name falls so beautifully from your lips.

I'm so close, you're gonna make me cum, just go a little harder for me. 

He speaks through ragged pants and fragile gasps. Your movements become frantic, and his hips are unable to sit still as he feels his high build closer and closer; he ruts himself into you as much as he can, ever-so slightly, moaning from the added friction — S-So good, I'm gonna, gonna… 

Aki cuts himself off with a moan, gripping you harder, his hands shaking, his thighs squirming. You keep up the pace, your hand gently holding his jaw, and you examine his expression: his bangs, messy and stuck to his forehead, his eyelids drooping from the pleasure, his lips parted, quivering. He meets your gaze, a sweet, gentle sort of look in his eyes, before he tosses his head back. 

With a stuttered groan of your name, Aki falls apart. His eyes close, and he drags his fingers from your mouth to wrap his arms around you, pulling you close to himself. His muscles begin to relax as he rides out his high, cumming in his slacks, getting his briefs sticky and wet and filthy. 

Your movements halt, and you let him catch his breath. His breathing is still shaky, but it slowly starts to calm. Aki cracks his eyes open, sitting up; he attempts to look at you, but his vision is blurred, his head is swimming, and his body sways forwards, leaving you to have to catch him by his shoulders. 

He looks so damn disheveled, sweat dripping from his forehead, his hair down and an utter mess. You lost his hair tie, so there's no way you're putting it back up any time soon. His suit jacket is falling off his arms, his shirt is unbuttoned, and his tie is hanging loose around his collar. He has a fucked-out sort of expression on his face, his eyes glazed over, his eyelids heavy and threatening to close.

"You… You okay?" Aki manages, his voice weak and hoarse. His palm comes to press against his side, and although it doesn't feel like he's bleeding much anymore, it fucking hurts. There's a hard, aching sort of throb coming from his wound, spreading across his body. He's not sure if his wound somehow got worse, or if he felt this way all along, he was just so wrapped up in things that he didn't notice it until now.

His ears are ringing, and his mind feels fuzzy, exhausted. Aki's gaze flickers down to the ground for a moment, and he can't see very clearly, but he can still tell how the floor beneath him is soaked red, how his blood has been pooling out onto the concrete. 

"I'm fine, Aki, are you? You don't seem okay." 

Your voice hardly registers. Yeah, he's stupid, definitely stupid. So, so stupid. He shouldn't have wasted so much time, shit, what was he even thinking? The two of you need to get out of here, the devils are, they must be… 

As if on queue, there's a loud slam on the door, then a huge bang as the barricade of shelves Aki set up earlier finally falls over. Aki grabs your shoulder, dragging you close with urgency, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I'm gonna pass out," He says matter-of-factly, swallowing, "You're gonna get us out of here, right? I trust you." 

He... trusts you?

"Of course," You nod, and begin pushing yourself up off of him. You reach down, offering him a hand. Aki takes it, and you drag him to his feet, slinging his arms around your shoulders, holding him up and keeping him steady. He leans on you, his head rested on your shoulder. His breath is warm when it tickles your neck, and strands of his soft hair brush over your cheek.

There's another slam at the door. The devils are going to break in any second now, but with how much of Aki's blood you drank, you feel ready for them. Waves of energy course through your veins, and your knuckles clench and unclench, itching for a fight. You'll protect him, you know you can. He's counting on you, after all.

"Aki?" You ask, grabbing his hand from where it's slung over you, giving it a gentle squeeze. His palms feel cold and clammy. "You still with me?" 

"Barely," Aki's voice is so quiet you almost can't hear it over the clamoring of scratches at the door, the devils seeming to grow louder and louder, more and more restless. He grumbles, leaning his chest on your back, before continuing, "If you need more blood, just take it." 

You roll your eyes. "I have enough, I took more than enough from you. You should rest, I'll hold onto you." 

Another loud slam at the door. It sounds like it's about to break at the hinges, but Aki's deep breaths in your ear keep you from panicking, and the rush you still feel keeps you alert. 

"I'll pay you back later for this." 

You can't help but laugh at how serious he sounds, but before you can ask if he means paying you back for you protecting him, or for you making him feel good, or for some mixture of both, his weight on your back goes limp. His head rests on your shoulder as his consciousness slips.

Yeah, you'll see about that. For now, you've got to put his blood to good use.

thank you to my beloved @f1gments for helping me with this, I couldn't have done it without you :)