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#look at how u massacred he

lovebugism · 6 months

Note

hi bug! you are one of the best writers on here. I love your work! I was wondering if I could request eddie and shy!reader watching a scary movie? maybe it’s early on in their relationship and she’s afraid that he’ll think she’s a baby if she says no, even though she’s pretty freaked? I love their dynamic!

ty lovie! hope u like it!! — eddie (the local freak) loves you, horror movies, and halloween, in the order. you (the scaredy cat) just love eddie. (new relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort-ish, 1.7k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Orange lamplight illuminates the dark trailer. You squint at the brightness, still curled up on the couch and missing Eddie’s warmth. He’s too busy rifling through his collection of VHS tapes beneath the TV stand, searching for a scary movie within a sea of scary movies.

He’s giddy like a kid on Christmas despite having seen all of them a thousand times over. But, then again, the Halloween season tends to be like Christmas for metalhead freaks like the one you love so dearly.

“Okay, Texas Chainsaw Massacre or The Exorcist?” the boy offers when he rises again, chestnut curls as wild as the bright beam on his face. He stands in front of the small television where red names scroll against a black screen and holds both options in eager hands. “Which one do you wanna watch next?”

You shrink inside yourself at the sight of both tapes. On one, a screaming girl — on the other, a masked man with a weapon. Your organs writhe with a fear most irrational. It runs ice-cold through your veins.

You pull the woven blanket up to your chin and shrug, feigning a nonchalance despite your tightening chest. “Whichever one—”

“—And don’t say whichever one I want, alright? You always do that,” Eddie interjects, all boyishly harsh compared to how softly you had spoken. His playful grin hasn’t yet left him, though, and even in the dim lighting, his dark eyes still sparkle when they look at you.

You cower again, more visibly and with a different emotion this time.

The corner of your lip quirks with a poorly hidden smile as you peek at the boy from beneath your lashes. “I don’t mind, Eds. Seriously,” you assure, still quiet in your way.

He pouts like a child, features scrunching in a childlike disdain. “But we always do the stuff I wanna do! You never have an opinion on anything. It’s always just, like, ‘whatever you want, Eds’ or ‘I’m good with whatever, babe—’”

You laugh at his obviously poor imitation of you.

The bubbly sound makes his smile widen.

“—You don’t have to be so sweet all the time, you know? You can be a little mean to me. I won’t mind, I promise.”

It’s in his nature to make dumb, dirty jokes at arguably the worst times — especially with you, ‘cause he loves watching you get all flustered about it. But he thinks if you ever got the least bit assertive with him, he’d turn into a puddle at your feet.

“It’s because I don’t really care what we do,” you confess, warm with the blushy pink feeling he stirs in your chest. “I just like being with you, you know?”

Eddie’s stomach whirls. He’s too metal to let it turn him to mush.

“As cute as that is, you’re not sweet talkin’ your way outta this one, princess,” the boy retorts with a scrunched nose and twinkling eyes. “Pick.”

Too indecisive and too in love with the boy standing before you, you whine, “Eds…”

“Babe,” he grouses to match your pouty tone. His socked feet scuff against the carpet when he walks the short distance to you. “C’mon. You’re killin’ me here.”

A staring contest ensues, each of you stubborn and playfully serious with it.

It’s embarrassingly brief.

It’s hard for you to stare too long at Eddie before you get completely lost in him. You too quickly realize that he’s real — that he’s looking back at you and that he loves you — and you feel a bit like your feet have been pulled out from under you.

Stern, but still gentle, you cave. “Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

Eddie beams when he gets his way.

“See? Was that so hard?” he teases quietly, bending at the waist to kiss you.

You tilt your chin to meet him halfway. It’s instinct at this point, like he’s got his own gravitational pull. His breath smells like warm nicotine and buttery popcorn as it fans against your chin.

He pulls back before you can reach him, though, and your fluttering eyes widen at the sudden refusal.

You find Eddie already squinting down at you.

“Are you just saying that ‘cause you know it’s my favorite?” he interrogates lowly.

“Maybe I like it because you like it,” you argue, too soft to be as serious as you seem. “Ever thought of that?”

“You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that, right?”

Your playfully taunting gaze gives way to a more genuine grin. “Now, I do.”

Eddie leans in to kiss you. For real this time. It’s a fleeting peck that leaves you grieving. His plush lips press pink against yours for one moment, and they’re gone the very next.

The couch dips beneath his weight when he plops down beside you. He coaxes your folded-up legs onto his lap with an urging hand on your knee.

“Okay, how about this,” he offers with rosy lips so suddenly kissable. “We go down to Family Video — bother Steve for, like, ten minutes — and you get whatever movies you want instead of the old shit we have here. My treat.”

Your chest warms. You’d follow Eddie blindly for the rest of your life if he let you. You’d do whatever he wanted and not think twice about any of it. It feels nice to know he’d do the same for you.

“Any movie?” you press, soft with a girlish giddiness you fight to keep hidden.

“Yeah,” the boy scoffs like it’s obvious. Then, in a vaguely posh accent, he assures, “What my lady wants, my lady shall get.”

You grow so suddenly sheepish, shrinking inside yourself like you always do when you’ve got something to say but lack the confidence to put it into words. It’s dumb to get nervous about it, and you know this, but you don’t want Eddie to think any differently of you — not for a moment, not even in the most innocent way.

“Does it have to be scary?” you wonder with a scrunched nose and a bashful gaze that doesn’t quite meet his.

Eddie falters for a moment. Not because it’s a big deal, but because he thought you liked horror films — that you both had that in common.

“Well— I mean— No. It’s just— It’s October, you know? So, I thought scary movies would be more appropriate. ’Tis the season or whatever.”

“I think I just need a break for a bit,” you confess with a wavering smile, picking tiny balls of cotton from the blanket with a fidgeting hand. “Especially after that last one… It was pretty scary…”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. Too clouded by the haze of puppy love, he thought you were having just as much fun as he was. He thought you were clutching his arm and digging your nose into his shoulder because you wanted to be close to him.

Because he’s an idiot.

Realizing that you’ve been scared out of your mind for the past several hours feels a little like a knife to the gut.

“I thought you liked scary movies…” Eddie quavers with pinched brows.

“I like them because you like them—”

“Babe!” he exclaims suddenly, as though offended by how much you love him.

“What?”

“That’s, like— That’s totally not cool!” he gapes in a boyish outrage. “That means I’ve been, like, fucking traumatizing you this whole time!”

You can’t help but giggle at his dramatics. You’d been scared, of course, but it hadn’t been all that extreme to you. “It’s okay, Eds. It’s not that serious—”

“Yes, it is!” he retorts firmly, with wide eyes and a stern nod. “If I knew you weren’t into them, I wouldn’t have forced you to—”

“You didn’t force me.”

“—To come over every weekend and watch them!”

“That’s why I didn’t wanna tell you, Eds,” you admit with a shy, halfway-forced giggle.

He goes quiet again. “…Why?”

“‘Cause I was scared you wouldn’t wanna hang out with me… I mean, what kinda girlfriend would I be if I was too much of a scaredy cat to watch stupid slasher films with my boyfriend?”

“Well, that’s just— that’s just not true. I just meant that we coulda been doing other stuff together,” Eddie affirms, gentle but in the overtly firm Munson way. A chuckle sputters from his lips as his palm squeezes your knee, warm and reassuring. “Stuff that wasn’t scaring the absolute shit outta you, preferably.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just laugh.

Eddie smiles back at you, mostly because it’s terribly hard not to, but he grows suddenly somber again.

“Seriously, babe,” he presses, leaning closer so you can’t duck away from his sparkling gaze. His chocolate eyes are dark enough to drown in. They flit between both of yours. “You gotta tell me shit like this, okay? You’re not gonna hurt my feelings— or, like, make me like you less or whatever. That’s pretty much impossible, I think.”

Your stomach does a backflip. It unleashes a thousand butterflies that flutter relentlessly against your ribcage. “Yeah?” you press softly and with a shy smile you try to keep hidden.

“Oh, totally,” he answers without thinking twice. “Our friends are idiots, but they’re right— I’m so fucking whipped for you, it’s not even funny.”

That joke was only halfway gratifying when it spilled from Steve or Dustin’s mouth. Hearing Eddie say it — with his nose mere inches away from your own and with his cigarette smoke and candied breath entwining with yours — it’s that times a thousand. A million, even.

“Well, maybe a little,” you tease quietly in return.

Eddie shrugs with a jutted-out lip. “Just a bit, I guess.”

He might as well be telling you I love you. It feels like he is, in his own special way.

“Are we still gonna go to Family Video?” you wonder aloud when the silence becomes too heavy to bear.

“Oh, yeah. You’re getting whatever the hell you want, alright? I’ll buy out the whole damn store if you want.”

He only has mere dollars to his name. You know this, too. But he says it with so much hubris that it feels just as real, anyway.

Beaming fully again, you joke. “Are we still gonna bother Steve while we’re there?”

“Yes,” Eddie answers with a single nod and a deadpan, like he’s offended you would even ask. “That answer’s always gonna be yes.”

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neteyamslovrr · 1 year

Note

Luvv your writing, i hope u can do a aonung x fem reader wherein theres part where she almost died (I guess like neteyam) like maybe in later parts and aonung was super worried and thought she actually died which she did but somehow came back and became absolutely clingy and like guardian or overprotective if ever she get hurt the slightest. Idk how will u write but hopefully u can consider thiss❤️❤️

I'm Right Here

summary: ao’nung witnessing your near death made him feel hopeless, and he promised to never let anything hurt you again.

1.2k words

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

It all happened so quickly, guns were blazing and the screams of all kinds of life rung through the night sky. You were there to follow Lo’ak as he went to warn Payakan, you didn’t realise this would be the start of a massacre.

You, Tsireya, and Tuk all had begun to creep onto the ship. “Tuk this is a terrible idea!” You whispered as she continued to make her way through the boat.

The boats alarms were flaring as you split away from Tuk and Tsireya. Finding another direction to make sure you could find Kiri. A scream filled your ears as you turned to see Tuk restraining to be tied again.

It was all blur when it happened. You ran so fast you brain couldn’t think. Jumping onto the back of Quaritch strangling him in hopes to get him off Tuk. But it failed miserably.

As he tied Tuk he simultaneously flung you off his back with a hard crash to the ground.

“Y/N!” you heard beside yourself, a worried shriek to keep your consciousness before hissing at the demon in front of you.

Tackling him to the ground he threw you again. “Oh you just don’t stop do you?” He chuckled pulling a gun out of his utility belt.

“Y/N run! Run!” Kiri shrieked. Your legs took off but still not fast enough. Not fast enough to miss the shot he fired.

Pain filtered through your body. If you weren’t so determined to not drown you would have let the pain paralyze you. Floating on the top of the water you quietly called out for someone to help you. The pain was unbearable. A bullet gliding across the top of your ribs was enough to have you scream.

“Y/N! Shit Y/N. Tsireya come over here!” Ao’nung found you barely able to keep afloat. The water surrounding you a red colour inciting worry in everyone.

Ao’nung couldn’t breathe seeing you in so much pain he couldn’t take it. You couldn’t leave him. You weren’t allowed to.

Tsireya came over quickly wearing a horrified look. “She need’s to go back to the village, Mother will help her.” Ao’nung carefully picked you up onto an ilu to ride back to his village.

You started to cough little bits of blood splattering to litter your face. “Fuck Y/N, it’s okay mother will help, I promise.” You cradled into him, your tears staining his chest.

“It hurts Ao’nung, it hurts so much.” Your voice was barely audible, you didn’t want to die, not here, not now.

“It’s okay Y/N its all going to be okay. See we’re here back at the village. Hold on for me okay?” Ao’nung’s comforting words were desperate, almost like he was comforting himself. He screamed for help running to his mother.

Ronal’s face was the same as Tsireya’s when she first saw you. Horrified. The red blossomed throughout your chest decorating your cyan skin.

Ao’nung sat beside you the whole time, he held onto your hand. Begging, praying, pleading with Eywa. He couldn’t lose you, not today, not ever. Ronal did every trick she knew, to bring you back to health. But she could only do so much.

Hour’s pass, and the hours turn into days. The war finished, the Sullys were back but you were still in a coma. Your body was weak, and your skin was pale. The wound had been threaded together by Ronal and your chest rose slowly and shakily.

Everyone tried to convince Ao’nung to leave your side, to get out of the darkness of where you rested. But no one was persuasive enough to convince him to leave you.

He thought if he left you, that you would leave him. Maybe his pleading worked because as he cried into your hair, begging for you to wake.

Your eyelids began to flutter open. The little light filtering through the pod still made you hiss. Ao’nung’s breath hitched. “Y/N? Y/N? are you awake?” He asked immediately holding onto your cheeks. His tears turned into sobs as he saw your scrunched up face and green eyes glowing at him.

“Rough nap I had.” You joked before Ao’nung littered kisses all across your face. Ao’nung swore to himself that he’d never let you get hurt again. He would never ever lose you again.

Months pass and you were fully healed. You could swim, run, walk and laugh just as well as everyone else. But what the shot affected the most was the relationship between you and Ao’nung.

You were promised to each other even before the war. But now that he had almost lost you and he was connected to you by the hip.

Every morning he’d wake next to you and tell you how grateful he was to wake up next to you. He’d constantly come up behind you, hugging you, kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings. After the shot, any piece of his tough guy exterior was disintegrated by you.

You knew he was overprotective of you before, but now more than ever. He’d guide you down steps, he’d always walk in front of you and when you were hunting he always tagged along. He couldn’t handle the thought of you being injured again.

You were out hunting, Ao’nung lagged behind chatting with Roxto, it was nice to see him relax with his friends. You had the tool in your right hand aimed at a medium sized fish. Pressing the trigger, you let out a pained shout. The device malfunctioned slightly cutting the bottom of your palm deeply.

Your shout immediately got Ao’nung’s attention. The sound of your pained voice brought back deep memories of your body bleeding out and he immediately rushed to were you had risen above the water.

“Y/N, Are you hurt, what’s wrong?, Do you need help?” His eyes frantically looked for an injury, his gaze always wondering down to your scar.

“I’m fine, I just cut my hand.”

“Let me see.” He grabbed your hand and saw the blood gushing out of your hand. For some reason seeing it made him start to tear up. His emotions were a wreck and staring at you hurt, it was a reflection of his worst fear.

Seeing the cut, it made him feel like he couldn’t protect you, just like he couldn’t protect you that day. The feelings of grief and fear hit him like a strong wave as the tears rolled down his face.

“Ao’nung why are you crying?”

“Let’s get you a bandage.” He ignored your queries about his tears until you both reached the shore.

Dragging you back to his tent he still wiping his face. Trying to rid of the evidence that he ever cried.

“Ao’nung stop.” You sat him down, and you sat in his lap. “Why are you crying my love?”

Ao’nung looked into your green eyes, those same eyes he saw almost lose their light that day. With a bandage in hand he slowly wrapped your hand to then rest it in on his heart.

“When you bleed… it reminds me of that day.” Frowning it clicked to why he panicked so much to your blood. “It reminds me of how helpless I was to help you, how I couldn’t do anything but watch you die.”

“But Ao’nung, I’m right here. I’m right here, you haven’t lost me, not yet.”

He let out a sad chuckle mixed into a sniffle. “Yeah.. you are right here.”

Softly you kissed his cheeks were his tears stained his skin. Ao’nung indulged in your presence, calming himself down as he felt your touch.

“I’ll never leave you Ao’nung, I promise.”

──── ⑅*❀*⑅ ────

authors note: hope you enjoyed! this one was rlly angsty. (also that photo of ao'nung is feral)

#ao'nung oneshot #ao'nung x reader #aonung #aonung xreader #aonung x you #neteyam #tsireya #kiri #avatar the way of water #avatar oneshot #ao'nung fic #ao'nung fluff #avatar #ao'nung #avatar x reader #atwow #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #ronal

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whalesforhands · 8 months

Text

purge your turmoil pt.8 (satosugu x reader)

previous masterlist next

warnings: yandere behaviors and tendencies, my experimental tone shifts, not really creepy unless u find obsessive behaviors and patterns horrifying, gore mentions

Surrounded by debris of the dilapidated, abandoned hospital, you hold onto a raggedy stuffed doll left behind.

It’s soft and colourful. Or, it once was. Her dress stained and riddled with blood and dirt, her cotton body having been slashed through the middle, soft cotton falling out as you hold her.

A child��s final comfort in their last moments. It’s hard to breathe thinking about it.

Your thumb gently caresses the doll’s smiling face, clearing off dust and remnants of dirt as best you could.

“Will this,” Your words tremble. “Ever end?”

Suguru stands beside you, hands clenching when he catches the look of quiet despair on your face.

“I think… It’s not something to hope for.” He wishes he could offer more than just this.

“It’s,” You suck in a harsh breath, not realizing you’ve been holding your breath. “Been hard.” Your eyes flutter close as you try to ignore the haunting memories of blood on your hands, of cries for help, of massacred bodies of unfortunate victims. Over and over and over and over-

“And here you are, despite how hard it’s been.” He’s beside you now, kneeling down on one knee next to you as he tenderly grips a dirtied, matching ribbon found within the rubble back around the doll’s neck, tenderly patting its head when he finishes.

It’s whole once again. You gently prop it against the crumbled pillar.

You hope that in another life, that doll and her owner are reunited.

——

The ticking of a clock sounds out somewhere around you, quiet and constant, each tock giving your eyelids the strength to finally lift, only to be met with the endless darkness ahead of you.

You don’t know if you’re still alive.

You’ve been floating around in here for… God knows how long. It’s lonely. Everyone. What’s happening? Where are they? You miss Shoko. You miss Satoru. You miss Suguru. You miss Yaga. You miss that little boy.

“You look like someone I know.”

You gently smile at him, eyes closed in amused bliss as you continue to stroke his hair, his head in your lap as he stares up at you with a furrowed brow of scrutinization.

“That so? I don’t think my features are very distinguishable from others, I suppose.” You giggle out, happy to have the young boy so comforted in your embrace as you softly pat his head.

(He’s so soft and squishy. You want to pull and stretch those mochi-like cheeks of his. You refrain, afraid of another barking remark that ultimately held no bite.)

“That’s not what I meant.” He pulls a sulky, irritated expression, brows still downturned into one of dissatisfaction, as if he can’t put his finger on where the sense of familiarity was coming from.

“You look like the pictures in the-“

You miss everyone. When was the last time you talked to them? You think and think, churning your brain, eyes squeezing close as you’re hit by a wave of bitter pain, your spine straightening out as you clutch your head.

“I think…” You begin to trail off, eyes stuck to the glowing blue glass of the aquarium as you watch a whale shark swim past your vicinity within the enclosure.

It’s tranquil. You squeeze the warm hands you held as you watched the sight before you with a smile.

“If I could choose… I’d like a life where I could grow old with all of you.”

You’re smiling as you think about it. Maybe you could rent a little apartment near wherever the 3 of them are staying, a quaint, quiet neighbourhood…

(…marriage? Maybe. That promise still makes you blush.)

Riko would give up on her little Star Plasma spiel. Live the way she truly wanted to, a way where she can finally find happiness, experience the joys she’s yet to feel.

Everyone… Would just be happy. Just like they deserve, just like they should.

But… You can’t possibly witness that if you’re dead, right? Your fingers claw at your face as you feel the bewildering pain of your thoughts. Are you really dead? No— Please, there’s still so much left to do. Your pitiful life should’ve had a reason for your living, and yet—

You can’t hear them. Can’t hear anything. You’re dead. Dead. What’s happening out there? Move. Move. Move.

The silence is deafening as your body squirms and you block out your ears.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tickticktickticktick-

Nobody is answering you. You’re missing the physical connection you once had to your body. How long has it been? How long have you been stuck like this? Time doesn’t even feel like it exists while you’re here.

The incessant ticking comes to a stop.

——

You learned to recognize this place in your time here. Your cursed void. One where no one but you could enter, and no one but you could leave.

The problem was… You couldn’t leave. You’ve tried. Walked and walked for endless miles, clawed at the abyssal darkness that never had an end, screamed into the void for hours just to never have an answer.

You… Can’t really be in here forever, can you?

It’s lonely in here.

“Gojo-sama, who is (last name)-san…?”

The tall man grins micheviously, looking down at the tiny hand he held within his palms as he squeezes lightly, before bending down to be eye level with his child.

“A special someone you’ll meet soon enough.”

——

“Nanako… We shouldn’t be in here…”

“It’s fine, Mimi! Papa and Daddy didn’t say we can’t visit! We just want to put the fresh flowers in for her! Plus…” She pauses, turning her head left and right, scouring the area.

“Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t here to stop us!”

The last sentence was dropped to a whisper, as if the blonde just realized her voice could attract attention.

Suguru kisses your hair, hands trailing to interlock your fingers with his own as he breathes in the very feel of you.

“Look, kids.” Geto pulls away, touch still lingering on your skin that had long gone cold years ago. He flashes a smile towards his awaiting children, showing you off for them to see.

“Isn’t she beautiful?”

You startle from your curled up position, hearing two faint sets of feet patter into the room. Slow, trying their best to tiptoe before a certain pair gives up, breaking into a sprint towards you.

A tiny crack forms within your domain as your ears keen to listen.

“See! It’s perfectly fine!”

You hear tapping, the fumbling of paper and plastic.

“Papa said it’s okay to give her flowers. I wanna be first cause today’s her…” She furrows her brows as she tries to mouth out the word. “Anniv- Ersaury?”

Mimiko frowns at her twin. “We should wait till everyone gets here…” She’s unsure, hugging her plush to her chest as she nervously looks around, more afraid of getting in trouble with her beloved parents more than anything.

The crack grows larger, making its way towards you.

“But last time we only got to spend like 10 seconds with her before Papa and Daddy chased us out!” Nanako huffed, a hand on her hip as she gripped a large bouquet of white lilies and osmanthus flowers, Mimiko holding onto the incense sticks.

“Anyway!” Nanako turns back to face you, settling the flowers down as she moves to kneel before you, hurrying Mimiko to start placing the incense.

“Let’s just start!”

You swiftly move towards it, ignoring the shards of glass digging into the soles of your feet, eyes burning from the shimmers of light shining through the holes as you chase it down, wanting, yearning for this escape.

The anxious twin lets out a deep sigh, lighting the incense sticks with a nearby candle as she hands a few to her awaiting sister, who settles down comfortably on her knees atop the prayer pillow.

“I wish for you to get better soon!” She holds the incense sticks up with her hands as she prays, eyes closed in deep concentration.

“Mhm…” Her twin follows suit, surrounding the room in a deep silence as they are joined by the flickers of the flame, the slow dripping of dewdrops from their fresh flowers chorusing with their heartfelt pleas.

Your surroundings begin to shatter, glass like formations raining down upon you as a shining bright light envelops your sight, a bubble immediately blowing up and swallowing you in its embrace as you begin to glow, the twins jumping off and Nanako standing protectively before her sister as she gets pushed back by your cursed technique.

“I- I think we broke it…” Mimiko’s voice is starting to crack as her tears begin to well up in her eyes, her hand dragging Nanako further back from you.

“Shh! What if Daddy hears us?”

“But he’s gone to pick up Gumi and big sister Tsumiki…”

Your eyelashes flutter as you slowly blink open your eyes, sensations of touch and your feel of the atmosphere slowly return to you. Your dried up flesh slowly plumping up, blood beginning to flow throughout your body, face instantaneously flushing with colour once more as you gasp out, taking lungfuls of air, irises rolling back to the front to view the space before you.

“Nanako… Is that…?”

You’re met with the darkness of what seems to be a bedroom. You slowly move to get up, bones creaking and your fingers slowly twitching to really get the feel of your body back, brushing against the various lilies and osmanthus flowers surrounding you, seemingly fresh in nature as dewdrops slowly dripped off the petals and onto your fingertips.

You look around you, disoriented and feeling fatigued, slowly sitting up against the plush area you were lying upon. It felt like you had just awoken from the dead.

“H…ello?” Your eyes flicker over to the 2 little girls standing before you, voice hoarse, broken. Vocal cords tangled together from years of underuse as you feel your organs literally start to pump to life, eyesight slowly coming back as your vision gets restored by the bubble.

It pops.

They scream, rushing towards you as they lunge towards your form.

“We did it Mimi! We cured Mama!”

Mama…? Did you- Oh my god. You’re blushing up a storm at the thought of it.

“Wha-What…?” Their smiles grow ever bigger, hugs growing startlingly tight for their small forms.

“Mhm! Along with Gumi and our big sister Tsumiki! But they’re at school now and Daddy is gonna pick them up and buy us lunch, then, then! We’re gonna eat dinner together cause Papa’s coming back today, then we’re gonna tell them we woke you up!”

“B-but we have to apologise to Papa and Daddy first for going inside the room, Nanako…”

You hear Nanako audibly gulp. “O-okay, but what if-“

Your eyes are starting to gloss over. You didn’t think that you’d be having 4 kids after being in that void for so long…

“W-wait—“ You’re trying to get used to your voicebox, trying to get used to the feeling of being alive once more. “Y-Your par—“

“Ahh, I’m so hungry!” The blonde one is curling herself into your chest as she whimpers from her hunger, a loud growl coming from her supposed sister next to her as she hugs your arm to her chest alongside her plushie.

You look down at the girls who are still upon your lap, staring up at you in expectant want. Oh— You suppose your question can wait for later.

…everything happens for a reason, right?

(Where is everyone?)

——

“Is the fridge always this empty?” You’re standing shakily on your feet, almost akin to a newborn whilst trying your best to not lose balance.

“No, Papa is just out of town on his job right now!” Nanako puts her hands on her hips as Mimiko signals you to come down with a frantic come hither motion of her hand, you kneel to her level, nearly falling over had it not been for the second twin flanking onto your other side and pushing you up with all her body’s strength, whilst Mimiko cups a hand around her mouth, whispering into your right ear.

“Daddy can’t cook, so he always buys takeout when Papa isn’t around…”

Nanako tugs at your sleeve on your left, signalling for you to come towards her.

“Don’t tell Papa but,” Her voice gains an excited tremor. “Sometimes Daddy lets us eat ice cream and cake for dinner!” She pauses once again.

“And he forgets to remind us to brush our teeth!” The girls giggle together in unison.

“Then sometimes, when Daddy is called on for a sudden mission…”

“He brings us all along and lets us watch him beat up the bad guys right in front of us! Gumi likes it the most!” The girls start zooming around you, throwing punches into the air and pretending to hit each other as Nanako feigns hurt when she takes a ‘direct’ hit from Mimiko’s plush.

“Ahhh! I’ve been hit by Red! KABOOSH!!” She falls dramatically to the ground, imitating a explosion with waves of her little arms before splaying herself by your feet and clutching your calf.

“Like that!”

…

You’re sweating with stress as you listen, patting their heads as they smile angelically at you. You need to talk to their parents about this before you get a heart attack.

(Missions… Red… Are their parents jujutsu sorcerers?)

“Girls.” You stand back up, your hands placed on both of their heads as you began to pat them gently as they nuzzle up into your warm touch. Nanako holds your hand in place when she feels you try to pull away, whilst Mimiko begins to intertwine her fingers with your own, trying to trap you.

“Why don’t we go buy something?”

——

You’re silently panicking as the two girls drag you towards the old crepe shop, tugging you by the hand as you’re slightly hunched over to allow them easier access to you.

You forgot the most crucial thing.

Money.

“Papa and Daddy always lets us follow them to the school! Then, then-!”

“Then we buy chocolate milk because Papa and Daddy really like it!”

“But Daddy never finishes his, so we get extra cause he gives it to us!”

“Then we play with Uncle Yaga who gives us new dolls every month! Then Uncle Yu, he’s super, super fun! Auntie Shoko gives us sweets when Papa isn’t looking!”

(Yaga, Yu— Shoko…!)

Mimiko pipes in. “Uncle Kento sometimes plays with us when he’s not busy eating his big sandwiches… Then Megumi and Miki comes back from school and then-!”

(Kento… Megumi? Miki? Does this mean— Could it be?)

“We eat dinner together!”

“You’re gonna lovvvveeee them!”

Your hands pat their hands, feeling them nuzzle into your warm touch.

“I’m sure I will.” You’re suddenly before the crepe stand as the two girls drool over their options. “But first, um… Do you girls happen to have any allowance?”

(“Oh! Yea!” Mimiko unzips the back of her plushie, pulling out a singular 10000 yen bill as your eyes nearly bulge out of your head.

“Daddy gave it to us before he left so that we could use it if we wanted!”

Your jaw is still hanging low in shock to process her words.)

——

“Uncle Yaga!” The girls pounce into his arms, causing him to stumble before he firmly plants his feet onto the ground.

“Children…! What are you doing here?” His voice had lost their usual rough tone, turning softer as he smiles down at the familiar kids. Still… They shouldn’t be here. Is Gojo nearby—

He senses it.

He feels the pulse of a familiar energy, hurriedly pushing the kids behind him as his sunglasses scan the area, spotting your tired form slumped over against a tree, trying to catch your breath.

“Kids…” You’re huffing as you try to get your bearings back. “Please don’t run…!”

No. It couldn’t be— There’s absolutely no way—! His hands ready themselves, calling for his cursed corpses to the scene before you-!

“Ahh! Yaga-sensei…!” You’re still panting as you reach him, sweat on your brow and your legs jellylike as the twins continue to cling onto him, wondering what’s going on.

“I’m so glad you weren’t so far away!” You’re sweating, smiling through your tiredness as you try to regain your bearings.

“I have so much to ask you!”

…

“Let’s talk in my office.”

——

There’s a hurried stampede of feet before the door is quite literally ripped off its hinges.

Her unlit cigarette collapses to the floor from her grip as she stares at the sight before her, felt the surrounding cursed energy as her body freezes in place.

She takes a step back, legs trembling when she places a hand over her mouth in shock, her eyes widened in horror and distress as she met your form.

Suguru’s distraught as he looks into your eyes. Eyes that never should’ve opened ever again. Eyes that he thought he would never see again. Eyes that he missed seeing with every fiber of his being, every speck of his soul.

You.

How are you here? Why were you out of that room specifically made to contain you?

Why are you alive?

“Yaga.” His eyes have narrowed into dangerous slits, fingernails digging painfully into the calloused flesh of his palms as the snarl he has on his face grows turbulent and murderous.

His curses are immediately summoned, one delegated to swallowing Shoko and tucking her away in its belly as it brings her devastated form to safety.

It’s tense. The words are stuck in your throat as you try to make yourself heard.

The mere presence of his cursed energy is causing you to freeze up from the overwhelming fear.

His cursed spirits were on their haunches, ready to pounce and stab and claw through the flesh of anyone who dares to stir the rage, the trembling anger of their master.

Your eyes widen as you witness the familiar worm spirit appear by his shoulder, hurling out a long set of nunchucks from its disgusting mouth. Your hands tremble as your spine straightens, his gaze deadset on you as you see the flashes of a million emotions running through him.

You’re breathless in his presence.

“You have 5 seconds,” Yaga feels the dreadfully cold voice of the special grade shaman, the aura emanating sending chills down his very spine as the lightbulb bursts, darkness swallowing the room as the air suddenly fills with putrid, thick smoke that crept into his lungs, skin prickling with goosebumps.

The suffocating presence of Geto Suguru.

“To tell me why my wife’s corpse is in front of us.”

previous masterlist next

Notes:

Through abuse of his power as the revered Six Eyes and Limitless technique inheritor of the renowned Gojo clan, Gojo was able to get possession over your body.

Geto and Ieiri were the ones who made a special coffin in efforts to preserve your body utilizing cursed energy.

Yaga was about to attack you after sensing your cursed energy. But the sight before him— Made him realise you can’t exactly be a threat.

Geto thinks you’re a curse. How devastating, to think that a mere curse dares to imitate your presence, dares to imitate you on your death anniversary. He wants to hurl, to vomit. The feeling in his mouth more disgusting, more vile than any curse he’s ever swallowed.

And yet, his heart yearns to feel you in his arms once more.

nvy’s aftertalk:

who wants to guess wtf is happening hahahahah

that praying scene is inspired partially by the way i do it when i go to the temple to pray haha

#jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #whalewrites #dyf au #gojo x reader #geto x reader #satosugu x reader #geto suguru x reader

403 notes · View notes

wolfvmin · 1 year

Text

House of Cards: The Last Dance

pairing: chishiya shuntarou x fem!reader genre: angst, unrequited love (but is it really), pining, fluff (can u believe it) wc: 15.7k (uhm) warnings: badly written action scenes, implied abuse, more flashbacks, unedited </3 summary: in which after leaving chishiya, you were forced back into the games of borderland. a/n: this is all i can do i'm sorry song used: when i fall in love - nat king cole PART 1 > FINAL

Death doesn’t discriminate between sinners or saints.

As you lay there on the ground with the smell of cinder filling your nose and the heat of the scorching fire warming your skin, your mind brings you back to the means you had to go through to live another day in Borderland. You’ve lied, beaten, betrayed, and killed to survive. You hadn’t expected the ten of hearts game to appear just as you leave Chishiya. You also hadn’t expected the massacre of the Beach through a witch hunt. Everything about this is unexpected, just like everything that has happened so far in this world you didn’t ask to be in.

Niragi missed anything vital or permanently life-altering, you know that much given your medical background. He missed the femoral artery, you were pretty sure about it. Well, not that he was aiming for it when he started his reckless free-shooting. You were one of the bodies thrown off to the ground and was shot in the leg.

Arisu and Usagi scream for you as you hit the ground with a thud, your arms stopping your head from the impact. With a groan, you lie your head on the ground in defeat.

Usagi starts moving instead of checking on you, maneuvering and avoiding the distraught running bodies and bullets.

You didn’t feel it at first, and then it started to hurt like a bitch that you wanted to die right there and then. How do you survive this? You immediately start thinking. The bleeding has to be stopped, for sure. How deep is the wound? That’s the first thing you have to check. But why can’t you move? You’re so tired.

You turn your head to your left, Usagi has jumped on Niragi’s back, distracting him from his shooting rampage. Arisu comes to her aid, trying to take the gun from Niragi. In return, he gets repeatedly hit in the back by the gunned man in the process.

Arisu couldn’t do it. He had too much injury and was weakened by the constant beating.

Niragi was able to overpower him and kick him to the floor. He spins with his strength, sending Usagi’s body away from his back and flying to the floor with a loud impact.

“Usagi!” you scream, despair not hidden in your voice.

You attempt to sit up, adrenaline rush filling your senses to be able to save your friends. This was game over for you. You have no one to go back to in the real world. Chishiya is safe, you’re sure of it. Kuina is still here so he might be here too. He had to get the last card of the deck, of course. But he’ll be fine.

With a shot leg, you won’t be able to get far anyway.

Arisu quickly crawls in front of Usagi in a useless attempt to protect her from Niragi as he aims his gun at the both of them. They’re both weak and tired, there was no escaping from Niragi as they were his sole target.

“You…” Niragi mutters. “I’ll kill all of you!”

Your body was moving before you even knew it. As if you hadn’t had your thigh injured, you sprint over as a head start and jump to where the perverted asshole is. Your heart raced faster than your feet did as you shouted with all your might, raising your uninjured leg as you flew in the air. You succeed in getting Niragi’s attention as he looks up at you with wide eyes. Unlike Usagi, you don't jump to his back, instead your foot slams into his head, sending him flying across the floor.

This attack had you rolling on the ground and then on your stomach when you land. Coughs sputter out of your mouth as the burning building’s smoke begins to affect your lungs.

Arisu and Usagi could only look at you with stunned wide opened eyes and raised brows as you landed a few feet away from them.

“Run!” You scream at them with tight fists as you attempt to get back up again. It seems the adrenaline rush was no longer there to help you as you struggle to support yourself again.

Niragi was getting up again. This makes you furrow your brows and groan, tears forming in your eyes in frustration as you slam your fists on the ground. There was no time. If the two try to run away in their bad state, they’ll be shot dead by Niragi.

You’re fucked.

Why can’t this motherfucker just die? you grimaced.

You drag your body with whatever strength you have, barely sitting up as you stare down at the man who had just gotten up to his feet with difficulty and a hand on his bleeding head.

Just as Niragi raises his weapon, like a raging bull, Aguni rushes in and attacks him, pushing himself and Niragi into the spreading fire deeper inside the building. You could no longer see their bodies but shots were heard.

“Three minutes remaining,” the game reminded the players.

As your body collapses on the floor in relief, all the people of the Beach rush to carry Momoka’s body to the Fire of Judgement.

Arisu and Usagi try to help you stand but you wave them off when they successfully make you sit. “No. No. Clear the game first.” You laughed in between coughs. “I need to catch a breath.”

Usagi tries to argue with you but you glare at her. “I’ll be out as soon as the phone dings,” you assure them.

“Can you walk?” Arisu asks as he looks at your leg.

You nod and roll your eyes. “I was a med student, Arisu. I can handle it.”

The pair looked at each other as if communicating with their eyes and then they nod, lifting each and limping out of the building to head over to the Fire of Judgement. You watch their retreating figures, relieved that the two are safe.

You look back down at your wounded thigh and laugh. You were probably overreacting a bit. It seems that your presumptions were correct. It didn’t hit anything bad and the bullet did enter you but exited you as well. But you do have to stop the bleeding as soon as possible.

Great, now you’re going to have ugly scars on your thigh. So it’s bye-bye bikinis?

You scoff and take off the white cover-up you had over yourself, leaving you in the two-piece black bikini you’ve been wearing since you arrived at the beach. You began to wrap it around your thigh skillfully just as you were taught. Blood began to seep through the cloth and you knew that soon enough, you have to replace it with a real bandage and sew the open wound.

The phone for the game dinged and you sigh in relief. They were able to burn Momoka’s body, after all.

Definitely not with ease, you were able to push yourself back up. If it wasn’t for your determination to keep your promise to Usagi and Arisu, you would’ve just laid there for a little longer.

So much for Utopia, you thought.

As you were about to exit the building, your feet stopped on their own accord when something crossed your mind, making the corner of your lips turn up into a smirk.

You sat on the small round marble table with your legs dangling and fingers playing with the ten of hearts card. Flames are eating up the building around you but you know you don’t have to be around here any longer. As if on cue, you see the familiar white jacket from your peripheral, bringing a sad smile to your face.

“I saved it for you, Chishiya.”

There was no greeting needed. You turn your head to your right and give him a happier, faker smile. His eyes stray down to your injured thigh for a second but back to your face in no time. He approaches you with no caution and no clue of emotion on his face.

You don’t doubt he saw the whole ordeal back there. He probably saw you and your friends struggle as he sat back and watched the scene unfold like a movie. He watched you almost die. It was so like him, quiet and scheming as he does whatever is best for him.

Now, he was here to steal the last remaining card too.

“It’s no longer Shuntarou, huh?”

He doesn’t receive any answer from you but he knows the answer why. You were still mad at him. How could you not? He practically sent your comrades to their deathbeds if it wasn’t for the unexpected game venue.

“To be honest, I don’t think it’s even important if we collect all the cards,” you confessed as you stare at the single card in your hand, flipping to its front and back. You finally turn your whole body to face him, stretching your arm to offer the card to him. “But here, just so you have it all.”

He raises a brow, staring at you with a smirk. Goddamn, is he attractive. It’s so unfair.

His mouth opens, about to say something but another person walks in. He realizes this when your eyes stray from his and shift to the tall woman in a blue swimsuit. You smile at her, uncaring of the interruption.

“You two are quite persistent, aren’t you?” Kuina asks with a smirk. Chishiya turns to look at her for a second before facing you again.

She nods over to your still wrapped-up thigh. “That was cool–what you did to Niragi. Where did you learn that?”

“It was just luck,” you tell her, earning a scoff from the man in front of you.

He takes the card from your hand. “Don’t believe her. She’s a spades player and was an athlete.”

Among other things, sports were one of the few things you had to give up on when you were forced to pursue medicine. But you never told Chishiya that you would still make time to compete in underground fights. It was the only way you could keep doing it with your parents not knowing. So yes, you were a retired mixed martial arts athlete that eventually became skilled in street fights.

Chishiya knew, of course. You would disappear and not bother him for weeks, healing any injuries that you incurred during the fights. Most of the time, you’ll be gone for a week. Until, there was one time in particular when you had not bothered him for almost two weeks and even canceled the date you were so excited to be on. Curiosity got the best of him, leading him to your apartment where he found you tending to your wounds alone. It was when you finally told him what you have been doing.

“So this is what you have been up to.”

Chishiya was leaning against the doorway with an unamused face, holding a flier of the underground fight in his hand.

You had been applying ointment on your wounds. The fight was worse than usual and your opponent decided to destroy your face. Of course, you won because you were so pissed off that you were going to have to cancel a date with Chishiya so he wouldn’t notice the black eye and your wounded nose.

You drop the cotton bud with wide eyes and a gasp, scrambling to hide your face in your hands.

It was kind of funny—you in your underwear, exposing all the healing bruises all over your body and face. Chishiya doesn’t react seeing you almost naked. It was like the nonchalant man doesn’t see you as a woman.

You lower your hands from your eyes so you could see him but still enough to cover your face from the eyes down. “Are you going to tell dad?” you ask like a kid being caught shattering a vase.

He sighs, walking over to your bed and sitting down with his hands inside his jacket’s pocket. “What would I gain from that?” It was rhetorical. You know he’ll gain nothing from saying anything. Instead, you know he’d rather keep his mouth shut and use it against you.

In front of the mirror, you watch his reflection fixate on your body’s bruises. Suddenly feeling a bit insecure, you purse your bruised lips and head over to your closet to grab a silk robe to wrap around your half-naked self.

“Why are you here, Shuntarou?” you ask with folded arms.

He shrugs and looks away from you. “‘Was curious.”

Silence filled your room, only the ticking of your wall clock being heard. You sigh. “I won’t stop doing it,” you tell him firmly.

“I know,” he responds as if he expected you to say that. “But tell me, how long do you plan to keep on doing this?” He raises the flier in his hand again as if mocking you with it.

You understand. You used to fight in arenas with media, judges, journalists, and opponents who are trained the same way as you. Underground fighting—it was different. It’s illegal, messier, and deadlier. Often, there are no rules. It’s quite literally beat your opponent to death or be beaten to death. Sometimes, weapons are even snuck in and nobody cares if it’s against the rules.

It was dangerous for you but more dangerous for your family name.

But you couldn’t help it, the rush it gives you—it made you feel alive more than championships ever did.

To hide the bruises from your father, you would over-accessorize and constantly shop for new clothes. During the day, you were the rich and elegant daughter he wanted. But at night, you were a fighter under a different name and a mask.

When you don’t answer, Chishiya dismisses the question and looks over the medicine you got for yourself on your vanity table. “There’s better ointment than that.”

You roll your eyes. Of course, he has to be smarter about that. “It’s the only brand the nearest drugstore had.”

Then you grin, a thought coming into your mind. “Maybe you can help me apply it?”

“No,” he stands up from your bed. “I’m leaving.”

But he didn’t and he spent the night treating your wounds like a doctor should.

“Well, I have to go back to my friends,” you brought yourself to your feet, a hand hovering over your injured thigh. Kuina reached over to help you but you rejected her attempt with a smile. There’s a struggle but you were able to walk away from them even with the pain.

You would kill for crutches right now.

“Wait!” Kuina stops you. You turn around, confused as she approaches you. She removes the sword sheath from her shoulder and hands it over to you. You quickly recognize this as The Last Boss’, the militant always around Niragi, sword. “You can use this to steady yourself.”

You smile and take it from her. “Thank you,” you accept it with genuine gratitude, looking over to Chishiya who was watching the exchange quietly on the side.

“I’ll see you around, Kuina.”

Arisu, Usagi, and you found a place to stay along with the others from the Beach. There, you tended to your wounds and recovered. There were no games. Those whose visas were about to expire tried to go to previous game venues but nothing happened.

It’s as if Borderlands completely stopped.

Some assume that the games are over since all the numbered cards were completed but you know that’s hardly the case. This is the silence before the storm—a grace period if you will.

“Where’s Usagi?” you ask Arisu when you wake up and the pretty climber was nowhere to be found. He was looking better and his injuries were mostly healed.

“She went and looked for supplies with the others,” he answered with a yawn.

Even if the three of you only spent a few days at the Beach, everyone began to miss the luxury of hotel beds, warm breakfast, hot showers, and electricity. Following the ten of hearts game, the survivors camped together. Eventually, it began to be suffocating as the same people reminded them of the Witch Hunt massacre. Most militants were eaten by their guilt and left, while those who had their comrades killed by militants still felt disgusted by them and chose to separate from the group. Wounds heal but they can’t be rushed.

The three of you stayed with Ann and Tatta, hopping from one place to another for a few nights.

Last night, you stayed at a small house with two bedrooms which were occupied by the girls and boys each. It didn’t have much supply hence why Usagi must’ve gone with Tatta and Ann.

You were pretty much useless because of your injury and one of your three companions always had to stay with you even if you try to assure them you’ll be fine. It was mostly Arisu who was being overprotective. You had a hunch that it was mostly because it was a leg injury. It must’ve hit close to home, you think.

Nevertheless, you were thankful for their care. Plus, it was a good thing that the games have somehow stopped for a while because you surely wouldn’t have survived with a leg you could barely walk on. The bullet missed your muscle or any artery, what it hit was mostly fat.

You raised your leg on the coffee table while you sat on the couch. You could walk better now and maybe even run. You haven’t pushed it though, opting to do exercises that would help you recover faster. You were a spades player, after all. It wouldn’t do you any good when the games finally start.

“It’s a good thing you were in med school,” Arisu points to your leg. You gave him a wide grin, taking in the compliment.

“What a shame it was so boring,” you say.

Arisu smiles, handing you the cup of instant ramen. You thanked him quietly and began to eat. He sits down beside you and eats his cup too. For a minute, the only thing that could be heard in the living room was the sound of your slurps and chewing.

“So,” Arisu started, “I’m sorry about Chishiya.”

You shrug, trying not to show how the C-word affects you. “I’m sorry too. Y’know, because he basically tried to kill you and Usagi. I know that you mostly trusted him because of my feelings for him.”

“That’s what I’m sorry for,” he explains, “I didn’t think he’d betray you too. I thought he really cared for you. Especially when he said those things about you.”

His words make you pause from your meal, looking at the shaggy-haired boy in curiosity and confusion. “What things?” you ask and begin to chew again, this time slowly, waiting for your friend’s answer.

“He told me we shouldn’t include you in our plans because…” He set down his cup on his lap and chewed away the fullness of his mouth before continuing. “Because he doesn’t want you in any danger. He said ‘I’m sure you understand. If you were in my place, you wouldn’t want the only person you like in this life to be in any danger.’”

Your breath catches in your throat. You know it wasn’t real. But to hear that Chishiya Shuntarou said those words about you even if they were lies? You wish you would’ve heard it yourself. In fact, you would give an arm and a leg for him to say that to you.

Arisu sighed, slumping his back on the couch. “He said it was still my choice if I’ll ask you and it was just his simple request. I was an idiot. I didn’t know he was doing it because he knows you’ll figure out his real plans if you knew our plan.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds and then replied in a low voice. “You’re not an idiot.” A frown paints on your face. “He’s a manipulative motherfucker, that’s what he is.”

“What made you like him so much, then?” Arisu lets his curiosity free with the question.

His question was valid. It’s no doubt that the asshole was attractive and cool. These are traits he had in common with millions of men in the world so why Chishiya of all people? Is it because you had no option? But you do. In fact, you hated the idea of your parents saying you’ll marry one of their friends’ sons.

But heck, do your parents know you. They’re clever, you’ll admit. They really got you where they wanted you.

“I’m sorry, I’m late!”

The door opens with a loud thud, revealing you with your hands on your knees, in your messily worn high school uniform, and catching your breath from the running. You came from morning training for the Karate team but lost track of time. All your classmates had their eyes on you, some snickering and laughing at you.

“Miss L/N, that’s the third time this month,” your teacher deadpans while still writing on the board.

“I know, sir! I’ll try my very very very best not to do it again this month, sir!” You shout, grinning from ear to ear as you stand up straight with your left arm on your sides and your other hand in a salute. Your teacher sighs, muttering “this month” and shaking his head, making the class laugh.

“Just get back to your seat, L/N,” he replies in defeat.

“Yes, sir!” you agree and set down your salute back into a military stance. Your class laughs once again and you laugh along with them. You head to your seat at the back of the class, a few of your classmates giving you a high-five greeting as you pass by them.

Your steps halt when you notice you finally have a seatmate. He had mid-length blonde hair, half of it tied up with a few strands on the sides of his face. He wasn’t even looking at you, focusing on the writing on the blackboard instead. The stranger intrigued you so you raise a brow and look at your side where your nearest classmate sat.

“The new student,” he whispers. “His name is Chishiya Shuntarou.”

You smirk, thanking your classmate and heading over to your designated seat. You set down your backpack on the floor and sat down, facing the new student who was still not acknowledging you with his stare.

“Hi. I’m Y/N L/N,” you introduce yourself and hold out your hand. “Let’s be friends, yeah?”

The stranger stops writing his notes and finally looks at you straight in the face and then back to your hand.

He just ignores you and continues writing his notes again.

You stare at him dumbfounded with your held-out hand, frozen and in disbelief. ‘What an asshole,’ you think. You shrug anyway and retract your hand, sitting properly to face the board.

“Chishiya, right?” you start a conversation even if you sense that he won’t bother answering. “Why would you transfer in the middle of the semester?” You were bringing out your notebook when a thought passed by you.

Then it clicks. “Chishiya, that sounds familiar.” You say to yourself particularly when you flip open the pages of your notebook to a blank page.

“Idiot.” It was him mumbling but you hear it all too well.

Your mouth drops at his voice and it finally hits you. It was him. Chishiya Shuntarou, son of most of your hospitals’ directors. You see him during events your parents drag you to ever since you were children. He was always reserved and quiet but you always admired him, even harboring a little crush on him. You’ve been so deep into your sports for years that you actually forgot what your life was like before you found something that really excited you.

A smile unconsciously spreads on your face in recalling the memory.

“Shuntarou,” you pause. “He grounds me down.”

Do you think Chishiya was a good person? Definitely not. You weren’t perfect, either. People are neither good nor bad. There’s no such simple person as that. Chishiya is a troubled person. He’s struggling with how to connect with himself and others. This is something you find in common with him.

When you are in trouble, Chishiya always finds a way to be there for you in his own way. You used to think that he cares about you and you liked to think that way still. But for now, you two have different priorities. You are at war.

And no one comes out the same person they were before the battle started.

“You sure about this, Y/N?”

Usagi was asking you for the nth time. You nod. “I’m all healed,” you reply. That was partly true. You’re sure you can run now but there’s still a limit to what you can do specifically in terms of fighting. But you were stubborn enough not to leave Arisu and Usagi to investigate the Minami-Aoyama station alone.

The three of you traced the steps of Asahi and Momoka from the video that Arisu found on the phone she left behind. You walked in the dark train tracks just like they did until you found a door.

It was opened so Arisu cautiously heads in while the two of you trail behind him, ready for any attack to come but there was nothing. You continued to walk the empty hallway, searching for the place in the video.

Arisu halts his step and you realize you were here. The three of you entered the dark room, Arisu pointing his flashlights around it.

The lively room filled with monitors and people cheering in the video was now a dark lifeless room with multiple dead people slumped over monitors and evidence of being shot by a laser. They seemed to be players in Borderland too but unlike you, they were well-groomed and well-fed.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled.

“You actually found this place.”

A voice startles the three of you and Arisu immediately points the flashlight in the direction of the voice. From another entrance of the room, Chishiya and Kuina strut in. You put on your guard. Why was he here? Are they one of the dealers? It’s unlikely the case but why?

“As expected from someone I have high hopes for,” the blonde continued.

“We meet again,” Kuina speaks.

Usagi doesn’t hide the disgust in her tone and countenance. “It’s you,” she says with furrowed brows, no doubt still mad over the pair’s betrayal. Kuina looks away in slight guilt, looking over at Chishiya.

You follow her gaze and notice he no longer wears the jacket you gave him. Instead, he wore a blue and white gradient cardigan over his shirt. You feel a tad of disappointment in your heart at the thought that he has thrown it away or lost it.

“Thanks to you, I have all the numbered playing cards with me.” He held up the deck of cards as he says it, a condescending smirk painted on his face. He truly is a despicable human being.

Arisu glares at him and flatly asks, “How did you find this place?”

Chishiya brings out a small folded piece of paper and unfolds it to show you its contents. “It took me a while to realize that this is actually the route map of a subway station.” From afar, the drawing really did look like random scribbles. It’s a good thing that the man is observant. You don’t know where he got it but Arisu may have had a clue as you see the expression on his face. They have both participated in a game, after all.

“What happens when we collect all the cards?” He saunters closer to you with his hands in his pockets. “I thought I’d find the answer if I come here.” His eyes explore the room. “But there’s only one thing I discovered.”

“They’re not game masters,” Arisu cuts him off, finishing his sentence.

“Right,” Chishiya agrees. “Judging from the fact that they were all killed after our victory. They’re humans like us and on top of that, there’s someone above them.”

You scoff. “What? Like a God?”

“Just who could they be?” Usagi asks no one in particular as she looks at Chishiya.

“Who knows? They might be aliens,” he pauses and shifts his eyes to you with a smug and mocking face, “or as your friend said, even God himself.” It was the first time he acknowledged you in the room. You raise a brow, slightly offended. His bitter tone doesn’t pass by you and the fact that he called you ‘your friend’ instead of your name, vexed you.

Not that you planned to give him a reaction but if you did, you wouldn’t be given the chance because the lights of the room turned on, followed by the wall of multiple television and computer screens circling the room accompanied by heightened ceremonial music.

The screens reveal a familiar face—the executive specializing in the hearts game, Mira, sitting on a chair in a black gown. A vicious smile is plastered on her face. It sets an eerie feeling in your heart. What kind of fucked up shit is happening here?

“Congratulations to all players,” her voice sent chills down your spine. “With the exception of the face card games, all of you have cleared all thus far and emerged as victors by sacrificing numerous lives.”

Her head tilts to the side, feigning innocence and wonder. “I wonder how many of your comrades have died?”

She stands up, raising an arm. “Try to remember those that were shot dead with a gun.” She walks around as the screen shows recorded videos of the games. “That girl that you burned alive, those struck with the lasers, those that drowned, those whose heads were blown off, those comrades of yours.” You feel Arisu flinch beside you at the mention of the last sentence.

“The despair you’ve felt so far and those dying moments that you can never forget.”

One particular screen catches your eye but not because of a man’s head being blown off. It was because standing near that man was a familiar shaggy-haired boy. Your gaze flits to the man’s face beside you and you see the flash of horror in his eyes as the screams of people from the games fill your ears.

“I’m extremely touched!” Mira exclaims. “All of you players, we would like to give you a present.” Her movements were odd as if she was really excited about this. One thing’s for sure, whatever’s Mira’s role is in this world, she isn’t being forced to do it.

“Are you returning us to the original world?” Kuina thinks out loud. You purse your lips, doubting that that’s the case.

Mira gasps, eyes widening as her body shakes in excitement. “There will be new games!” She exclaims happily like the words don’t mean death and destruction on a whole new level. “Let’s play games together. You’ll fight for face cards.”

“Wow,” you react with a flat tone. “She’s fucked in the head.”

There’s disbelief in Kuina’s voice when she asks, “New games?”

“I don’t dislike the idea,” Chishiya says, the smirk not being wiped off his face. Your fists clench at his words. You don’t understand him. How could he like these games? Death, betrayal, being played around like lab rats—were those entertaining to him? You always thought Chishiya was a little bit different than most and he was just doing his most to survive but is this a side to him that you’ve blinded yourself to?

“We’ve still got many more wonderful games prepared for all of you, so look forward to it!” Mira ends her ridiculous speech.

“This woman…” Usagi finally speaks.”Is she the game master?”

“I’d rather see an alien appear on the screen.” Kuina thinks out loud.

“The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon,” the camera zooms in on Mira’s face. “Let’s have some fun together!”

“So we have to fight again,” Usagi says, feeling defeated.

“Yes,” Arisu replies. “But something is different... we’re finally seeing our target.” He says with his eyes focused on Mira, glaring and determined.

“You’re mad again,” Chishiya states the obvious in the dark of the room you’ve entered.

You slam yourself on the nearest display bed, looking around the furniture store you’ve sheltered in from the King of Spades. By not answering Chishiya, you clearly agree with his suspicion. Of course, you were pissed off. If he ran with urgency as a normal person does, maybe you would’ve been able to jump inside that car with your friends.

“It’s not like we would’ve fit. I’m sure you’ll find them again,” he assures you, unconvincingly with a bitter tone in his voice.

He looks at the sky through the glass window of the store. “The blimp is gone,” he observes out loud. “We can rest here if you want and then we can go.”

“If his whole Arena is Tokyo, then that means we have no choice but to join the other games,” you think out loud. There are 12 face cards, meaning there’d be 11 games out there and one game where a single overpowered man aims to shoot down every player out here. Even if you were a spades player, your combat skills, no matter how great, are no match with his unending ammo. You can’t exactly kick or punch those bullets away.

“That’s the point,” he replies flatly.

You glare at him, scoffing and lying down on the bed fully with your head resting on your arm. “You should get me food,” you tell him and ignore his sarcastic remark. You don’t really expect him to comply, you were just doing it to get on his nerves like usual.

“Do it yourself,” he says with a sigh.

“As you can see, I’m injured…” You point to your thigh wound that was still wrapped and can be seen clearly from the ends of your gym shorts. Obviously, that was a lie and you can move freely now. “And hungry.”

He scoffs, sitting on the mattress next to you. Deafening silence began to fill the room and you almost forget that Chishiya is in the same room as you. His presence begins to make you uncomfortable, not because you hated him but because you don’t like him seeing you vulnerable. So, you turn to your side with your back facing him.

The king of spades, he just destroyed everyone out there. These next games, they’re much crueler than the numbered ones. You barely made it out alive and now you have to participate in harder games? And when they’re all over, who’s to say that you could actually go back?

Do you even want to go back?

If you were to die here, it wouldn’t be much loss to the real world, anyway. Things haven’t changed despite the circumstances—your priority was still to get Chishiya out of here if he can. You’re sure you will see Usagi and Arisu again. They’ll be fine. They even got Kuina, Ann, and Tatta by their side. Maybe you were separated from them so you can protect Chishiya somehow.

You don’t doubt that he’d want to join the diamond games. In fact, maybe he’s even excited about it. If it came down to you joining him in one, you’ll try your best to help him win. But if you two somehow find yourself in a game where he will need your strength, you’d be glad to be there with him.

The thing is, you know you would sacrifice yourself for him but the question is, would he willingly sacrifice you to win?

As you drown in your thoughts, your body shuts down to sleep, suddenly exhausted from all the running.

The dress you wore flowed freely, the ends dragging on the floor. Even if you find yourself more at home with gym clothes, dressing up did excite you too. It just wasn’t as convenient as gym clothes where you can move freely.

Tonight, you were ecstatic as the lavender gown you had a famous designer made sculpted your upper body perfectly as you fit it the night before the dance. Giggling, you think back to the blonde’s acceptance of your invitation to the school event.

“So, Shuntarou, have you asked someone to the dance yet? or maybe been asked by someone?” you ask as you sat beside him in the classroom during break time.

“If you wouldn’t glare at any girl that would approach me, maybe someone would’ve.” He replies in a monotone voice as he eats his cookies. It was his favorite brand.

“I do not glare,” you reply, glaring. “And if you want to go with someone, just tell me who and I’ll help you.”

He raises a brow, finally looking at you but with full judgment. He knows you’re bluffing. “At least try.”

You lose your facade. “Ok, then. Will you go with me to the dance?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” he replies, dull as always.

You skip around your room, heart fluttering at the thought of slow dancing with the nonchalant blonde boy. You imagine the jealous stares of the girls who have a crush on him. You couldn’t help it. You were in high school and in love.

Afraid to accidentally damage the dress in any way, you remove it and keep it in a safe place. Tomorrow, you’ll have a team to help you get ready. Then, Chishiya will fetch you and you will go to the dance together.

In your excitement, you forgot to drink water or even eat dinner. You were only reminded when you feel your throat get parched. With that realization, you head to the kitchen to get something to eat.

As you were munching on some leftover pasta you found, you hear your father’s voice in the living room. Since when was he home? You become more cautious of your actions, careful not to make any noise as you eat. It’s better to not encounter him at all.

“Ah, he’s taking her to some school dance? That’s good.” School dance? What is he talking about?

Due to curiosity, you leave your food and tiptoe closer to eavesdrop on the conversation. It seems that he’s on the phone.

“She’s still a kid, wasting her time on stupid matters. It’s good that Shuntarou is already thinking about a future in medicine.” Shuntarou? You now realize that he’s talking to Shuntarou’s dad and with the tone of his voice at the mention of ‘her,’ it’s safe to assume that he’s talking about you. Your father hated the numerous extracurriculars you were doing, especially those of sports. He always believed they were a waste of time and that if you wanted to do extracurriculars, you should’ve just joined the student council.

“They’ve been getting along well, I’ve heard. As soon as Shuntarou finishes his residency and gains a little experience, we can have them married,” your father speaks to his phone.

You froze at hearing the word ‘married.’ What did he mean by that? Could it be… Chishiya and you were being arranged to be married? And then it hit you. It’s all planned. The reason why Chishiya was transferred to your school in the middle of the semester after some unknown reason is because of your father. He was transferred there for you.

Your father says more to his friend on the phone. It was all about you and Chishiya and some for the hospital. From what you’ve gathered, it was so Chishiya can inherit the position of chairman.

You can practically hear your heart shatter as it sinks to the ground. At such a young age, your father doesn’t believe in you. It’s always been like this. He just believed from the get-go that you didn’t have it in you to win. You weren’t gifted like him.

Chishiya is the child he wants, not you.

“Tell Chishiya to keep up the good work. I’ll give him a reward for taking my daughter to the dance.”

And it seems that Chishiya knows all about it too.

Your eyes fluttered open, lids feeling a bit heavy because of the unexpected sleep. As you sat up, your throat immediately felt parched from thirst. You really needed water.

Looking around, you find no sign of your companion. You felt a funny feeling in your stomach, wondering where he had gone. Has he already gone and joined a game? It seemed like something he would do here in Borderland, leave you in the middle of nowhere alone and unguarded.

You were about to stand up to actually look for the blonde man when you noticed something new on the display side table of the bed you slept on. It was unopened canned food and a bottle of water. There was no note or anything but it could only be from the blonde-haired guy himself. Has he really gone out alone and looted food for you?

You decide to quench your thirst first before dealing with him, grabbing the plastic bottle in a swift motion and opening the cap hastily before drinking in chugs.

“Slow down.”

As if on cue, Chishiya enters the furniture shop, now in the white jacket you gave him. Where did he hide that? Did he go back to where he left it when you were asleep?

You brought the bottle from your lips, staring at him like a puzzle. “Where did you go?”

“Outside,” he answers flatly. You glare at him. “Just say thank you for the food and water.”

You don’t answer right away, watching silently as the man sits down again on the bed next to you, laying down some things he probably found around. It’s weird how it oddly felt domestic. If you were to disregard the numerous pieces of furniture around you, you could imagine yourself in a place in the real world where you two have your own home, happily married, and are in possession of what you two always wanted.

You shake off the thought. Not only is that impossible in Borderland, but it’s also impossible in the real world.

You open the canned food. It was mixed fruits. After you thanked him softly, you began to eat quietly, chewing slowly as he said to.

“Have you eaten?” you ask as he stares at you. He gives you a nod before taking his eyes off you and back to his tinkering.

“Are you joining a game soon?” you attempt a conversation again.

“I think we have to,” he answers.

He was right. “Yeah.” You bit your lip, afraid to ask what’s been lingering in your mind. “Do… do you want to join a game together?”

He stills, “no.”

“Why not? I’m strong. I can protect you,” you point at the sword you laid on the ground.

“That’s not enough,” Chishiya answers in a heartbeat.

“Would you rather I die alone?” It was a tough question. Not for him but for you. If you were going to be asked, you’d rather have your last moments with him.

He audibly tsks, standing up from the bed and putting his hands in his pockets. He walks away from you and the conversation. Disappointment creeps into your skin. You knew he wouldn’t care about your sentiments.

His hand stays on the door, not opening it yet. “Tomorrow,” he speaks, not even turning around to look at you. “We’ll join a game together.”

It sent a chill down your spine. You didn’t know what his motives are. Did he decide to go on a game with you because of what you asked… or did it give him an idea to finally end you?

It’s a good thing that the next stage shows you what game you will be entering through the blimps. The game you enter varies on one’s strengths and risks. You know that you wouldn’t willingly enter a Hearts game with the people you care about and you would try to enter a game you specialize in.

“No heart games,” Chishiya tells you.

You’ve found yourself inside a small home to spend the night in. It was safer than the furniture store with glass windows. You thought it’d be nice to decide on what game to choose.

You felt the mattress dip beside you, indicating Chishiya sat down.

The house was small and cozy. It was a one-bedroom and looked like it belonged to a couple simply because it had everything by pair. What made you stay though, is that Chishiya has found their secret stash of food that was hidden inside the bedroom and under the floors of the closet.

The supply could last you maybe about a week.

You turn your head to Chishiya. It was already night time and you only had a candlelight lamp lighting up the room. He has taken off his jacket, leaving him in his shirt and pants.

It was not the first time you’d shared a bed. When your families would go on trips together, they’d make you share a room. If you didn’t know about your father’s plans, you would find it odd how they were too willing for you two to get along that they were putting their young adult child inside a bedroom with a guy her age.

During those trips, you would fall asleep on his bed while telling him stories. At first, Chishiya would leave you be and sleep on your bed. Until one night, when it became too frequent, he just slept beside you. And then the rest was history.

As he lies down beside you, you hear his gentle breathing, see the rise and fall of his chest, and the way he inhales and exhales. It seemed that he was in deep thought. Could it be that he was worried about the games too?

“How about a Diamonds game?” you suggest. You think that you were pretty smart and you could handle it more with him by your side.

Chishiya doesn’t answer, looking like he’s in deep thought.

“Kuina and the others probably joined a Clubs game.” you continue. “Maybe we should join one too.”

The thought brings you back to your comrades. It’s possible that they joined a game together—a Clubs game is the safest bet if they all want to live. Maybe it’s what you and Chishiya can do too.

“We’ll join the Queen of Clubs. It’s the nearest clubs game.” The man beside you finally speaks, his voice a little tired.

You agree, nodding lightly. You spun to your side with your back facing him as he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Goodnight, Chishiya,” you mumble, still not being able to call him by his first name. He doesn’t answer but you hear him subtly hum in response.

The sun was setting when you and Chishiya reach the arena.

After a bit of walking, your mouth drops as you realize that the Queen of Clubs blimp is hovering over a high school building. Specifically, the prestigious high school you and Chishiya attended.

“How fitting,” Chishiya reacts with a bored tone.

Sometimes, you feel like the games are catered to the players. Like they know all your life stories. This high school being the game arena, is it to your advantage or disadvantage? Whatever it is, you have no choice but to find out. This is your first game in the second stage, and it’s a Clubs game. If the two of you work with other players well, the chance of survival is high.

That should be the mindset for the numbered games but right now, you weren’t sure because these are face card games. If the numbered games were difficult as it is, you should be terrified and ready for the face cards.

“I can go in alone,” you suddenly say, afraid to go in there together with him.

“You’re kidding,” he scoffs and walks closer to the entrance. “After all that talk about dying alone?”

The anxiety that was creeping into your skin would put you at a disadvantage. You know that Chishiya could handle himself but you couldn’t help but be worried for him. Sighing, you shake off the worry and decide to push through with joining the game with him.

You enter the arena first and look back. Chishiya stares at you for a few seconds, as if contemplating or memorizing your face. And then he follows you inside. What was that?

The other players were gathered in front of the building, right on the grass field. There were about six people there already. Chishiya followed you inside but didn’t walk beside you or near you. It was probably to not make people assume you know each other. On top of a table were metal cuffs that had a screen, looking like a smartwatch. From the looks of it, it seems that it was the same material as the collars they make you wear in the other games only this time, they were bracelets.

1 PER PERSON

There were two left when Chishiya and you took yours. You clasp it around your non-dominant hand’s wrist and watch as the game confirms your registration. Looking around, you found the other players looking at you. It made you feel a bit insecure but you’ve been in enough games to know that you shouldn’t let them get to you. It should be the other way around.

Another hand reaches for a phone on the table and you look up at her. She looks a bit like a high schooler, wearing a skirt from a uniform and a white tank top. She had a bow and arrow on her back.

Her stare turns into a glare and you frown. It was she who broke eye contact first and stepped away from the table. As she turns around, it was hard not to notice that she was missing a foot, replaced with some kind of metal. She looks interesting to you.

REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE.

The familiar AI voice of a woman is heard through the campus speakers.

Chishiya crosses his arms, waiting for something to happen next. You look up at the screen that was stationed there. As if on cue, the screen lights up, flashing some kind of silhouette of a woman’s head with a crown.

DIFFICULTY

Queen of Clubs

GAME

Prom Queen

Rules:

Each classroom has votes for players to collect or challenges for players to complete.

The players must collect enough points to enter the gym, where the Queen of Clubs will give them one last challenge.

The votes are transferable to another player but physical assault and force transfer of votes to another player is not allowed.

If the player does not complete the challenge in the room, the room takes their votes.

No weapons allowed inside the building.

CLEAR CONDITION

The players must have more votes than the Queen of Clubs and complete her last challenge.

GAME OVER

Players do not gather enough votes to dethrone the Queen of Clubs.

Players do not complete the last challenge.

TIME LIMIT

02:00:00 HRS

You scoff and remove the Katana from your shoulder, putting it on the table. The other players began to gather around it, putting their weapons with yours.

GAME START

You look around at the other players. You give them a nod.

“Alright. Let’s meet by the gym doors after we collect all points,” a man who has glasses said. He wore stripe shirts and was fairly tall. He seemed smart and gave the impression of a leader. It doesn’t look like he’s physically fit, though.

The other players do not waste time, scurrying into the building with determination and a little bit of fear. You stayed behind for a few seconds, looking at Chishiya. He stares back at you with no expression on his face and heads into the building.

There was the girl who had a bow and arrow, still looking at you. You give her a nod. It didn’t look like she could be trusted but this is a Clubs game, after all. You have to work together to survive. She doesn’t give you the same attitude as earlier. Instead, she approaches you, giving you a nod back.

“Akane Heiya,” she introduces herself to you.

“Y/N L/N,” you reply with your name.

The two of you enter the building together, cautious of the darkness that plagues it. You pick up the small flashlight from your belt bag. You can hear the scrambling of the foot of the other players, no doubt racing to get to the classrooms faster. “The rules didn’t say how much we need, so maybe we can go and check the gym and see if there’s a clue?” you ask her.

“I’ll go check,” she tells you.

“You sure?” you ask her, wanting to know if she doesn’t need a companion.

She nods. “One of us should help collect votes.”

As soon as you nod, she was already on her way to look for the gym. You decide to head to the nearest classroom without a player in it already.

You stand before a classroom door that has a red light on it. You assume that if the votes in this classroom haven’t been collected, its red light is still on.

It wasn’t dark inside the classroom, the sun has almost set all the way but there was still a bit of light seeping through the windows of the room. As you step in, the door shuts behind you. You panic for a bit, checking the door knob if it still works. You groan when you realize that you’re shut in.

The lights of the classroom turned on and a tv screen that was in the middle of the chalkboard flashes a question.

In printing, it’s the color black. In chemistry, it’s potassium. In baseball, it’s a strikeout. Which letter is it?

It was an easy question but there were about maybe forty classrooms in this school. There are nine players. If your hunch was right, there should be a difficulty level or random variation of the difficulty of the challenges on each floor, there are eight classrooms. You were on the first floor.

“K,” you answer confidently.

The room speakers gave out a ‘ding’ sound and some kind of button on the teacher’s desk lights up a green color and you walk towards it. You hesitantly press it and your wrists light up with a green color.

+ 50 votes

You hear the lock of the door click open and you step out. You look up at the light on the door and see that the previous red light has been shut off.

Walking down the hallway, some girl who looked like she was in her thirties, wearing office attire approaches you. “How many votes did you get?” she asks, pointing at her wrist.

“50,” you reply.

Another man completes his room and hears what you were talking about, approaching you two. “It was hidden in one of the lockers at the back. I got 50 too.”

You nod at them. “It seems that this floor is just full of 50 votes per room.”

Not wasting any more time, you and the others who have completed your rooms head to the second floor. Chishiya was already on the second floor, stepping outside one of the rooms. You approach him. “How many votes in this one?” you ask.

He shows his wrist, flashing the number on his band. 75. Just as you thought.

“So the floors are kind of the levels, huh?” The man in the striped shirt asks you. You nod.

“There isn’t a goal of votes by the gym.”

All of you turn your heads to the source of the voice. Heiya stood there, her chest heaving from the running. You don’t doubt that she was tired—the gym was a bit of a walk from the classrooms. You probably should’ve told her that.

“That must mean we should clear all the rooms.” A woman with a crossbody bag spoke up, joining all of you.

“Then let’s do that,” the man in the striped shirt speaks again.

You and the other players moved as quick as you can. You learned that when you don’t succeed with their mini games inside the classrooms, you’re lasered down and another player has to go to that classroom to finish the task.

In the end, it was six of you who lasted.

The first floor has eight rooms opened with 50 votes each. The second has eight rooms and 75 votes each. The third floor has three rooms with 100 votes each. The fourth floor has two rooms with 150 votes each. Lastly, the fifth floor had one room with 400 votes.

Together, you accumulated 2000 votes. However, it was separated from your wrists. When you reached the gym, whenever you tried, it would show ‘error’ on the electronic lock.

It had to be 2000 on one wrist.

“That means… only one of us gets to go inside?” A girl with a headband says, her eyes looking scared.

You furrow your brows, thinking. “The game said we only need to dethrone her with more votes. Only one needs to do her challenge and then the game should clear.”

“Right,” a man in a plain white shirt replies. “This is a Clubs game. That should be the case.”

“Okay, so who will go?” The woman in office attire asks, her voice trembling a bit.

Each one of you stares at each other, feeling each other out like teenagers afraid of a graded recitation in class. You don’t blame them, you don’t know what exactly the challenge would ask of you.

“I’ll go,” Heiya rolls her eyes impatiently, holding out her wrist as she waits for the other players to move.

“No. Most of the rooms’ challenges are about intellect. It should be me,” stripe shirt complained. Now you know what irks you about this man, he was controlling and stupidly wants to be seen as somewhat of a main character.

Heiya glares at him. “So what? You think you’re the smartest in the room?” She bites, raising her brows. You try your best not to laugh at her accusation and lightly strike your elbows to her side, telling her to tone it down.

“That’s not what I meant,” the man replies, offended and furrowing his brows.

“The challenge wouldn’t be about intelligence,” For the first time in the game, Chishiya finally speaks, making all the other players’ heads turn to him.

He shows everyone a piece of paper in his hands.

The Ivy Award 2020 — Yamada Asaki

No way, could it be?

“After the rooms were cleared per floor, the lights turned on but kept flickering. It made up a morse code. The first floor is I, the second floor is V, and the third floor is Y.” He makes his way near the circle, showing everyone the paper that turned out to be a certificate. “And then I found this on the fourth floor, confirming the morse code.”

“What is this supposed to be?” The man in stripe asks, a bit irritated.

Chishiya stares at him, giving him all his focus with dark eyes. “In the classrooms of the fifth floor, there were shelves containing the awards of this awardee. The Ivy Award was a special award this high school gave to those who excelled in all athletics in the school while maintaining top grades.”

Chishiya pauses, now shifting his eyes to yours. You look away and avoid his gaze. “There are only two people who received that award in this school.”

“Yamada Asaki,” he looks down at the paper in his hand. “And Y/N L/N.” His gaze goes back to you, communicating a million words in one simple stare.

You froze at the mention of your name. Heiya, in her tall stature, looks down at you. “You?” she asks in disbelief and a smirk.

You glare at Chishiya, not understanding why he dropped your name and history out of nowhere. Then you look at Heiya who was waiting for your response.

“That’s true,” you admit, looking down at your feet.

“In fact, she was the first awardee—the reason why the award was made in the first place.” Chishiya gives you a smirk.

You still remember when you were awarded that day. The school made the award for you for the sole reason that universities around the world were contacting them to take you in as their athlete on full scholarship. They were scrambling for your hand in college.

Your father rejected all of them. He used all his power to stop you from going.

Up till now, the award was a topic you don’t like talking about. It was hard for you to remember how much you were controlled and manipulated into staying in Japan.

“The person you’ll be facing,” He puts his eyes back on the man in the striped shirt. “Is a master of all sports and martial arts. Do you think you could handle that?”

The man in the striped shirt couldn’t answer.

Just like that, the other players began giving you their votes. You stand there quietly as they hover their cuffs on yours. This would mean… everyone’s life here is depending on you.

Chishiya took the last turn in giving you his votes. He grabs your limp wrist with his right hand and hovers his cuff on yours. Your eyes are shaking in anxiety as you’re still staring at the floor. You've fought wildly when only your life is in your hands. That’s because you know that you have nothing to lose. You’ll gladly die if it’s your time to die. But right now, you have to live for these people.

“What?” he whispers.

You finally look up into his eyes, meeting his deep stare.

The other players watch as Chishiya leans in, whispering something in your ear. This causes you to freeze, looking up at him with awe.

He spins you around, making you face the door. His hands are still on your shoulder when he leans in.

He whispers in your ear again, sending shivers down your spine. For some reason, it sounded genuine. He wasn’t trying to manipulate you into going. He was motivating you, maybe even pleading.

You turn your head to look at him, his face inches away from yours. From here, his eyes burned with something you don’t understand. There was a slight crease on his forehead that relaxed when you gave him a smile.

“Wait for me, will you, Shuntarou?”

It was the first time you saw Chishiya smile in Borderland—and actually smile and not smirk in a condescending manner.

“You can do it,” Akane nods at you, her arms crossed. You look at her, smirking. You’ve only known the girl for an hour but you already like her.

The other players began motivating you and you gave them all a glance before hovering your cuff on the lock of the door.

The lock dings and the door unlocks by itself. You twist the knob open, revealing the darkness of the room.

You give one last glance to Chishiya whose eyes never left yours. You walk inside, your eyes never leaving his. He has long abandoned the smile on his face, replacing it with his famous poker face. His eyes, however, stayed expressive as if telling you’ll be fine in his own way.

The night should’ve been everything you dreamed about.

Chishiya fetched you, wearing his suit and tie that matched your dress. The hotel venue that the school rented turned out to be designed beautifully. Everything was perfect.

If it weren’t for what you learned last night.

You acted like everything is fine, dancing with your friends as Chishiya sat on the side. To get him to come, he made a deal that he wouldn’t dance until the last. You agreed, only wanting to dance the last slow dance with him.

Chishiya must’ve already realized something is wrong because you haven’t looked at him for more than five seconds all night. It was weird. You really wanted to be here with him yet you can’t even ask him what he thought about the food. You know that it wasn’t his fault. You were the one who approached him first and began pursuing him. He wasn’t exactly actively trying to manipulate you as your father wanted.

But he knew. He knew what your parents wanted.

And you, you were left in the dark again.

The doors of the gym shut with a loud thud, leaving you in blinding darkness.

“I hoped you would come,” it was a girl’s voice from the end of the room.

The lights turn on and you squint your eyes as the sudden change blinds you for a second. When your eyes adjust to the brightness, you see a girl not older than a high school kid. She was wearing a black bodysuit and a crown, sitting on what looks to be like a throne on the stage.

“You’re Yamada Asaki?” you ask, raising a brow.

“and you’re Y/N L/N,” she replies, a smirk plastered on her face.

She stands from her throne, crossing her arms as she walks down the stage. “You know, when I heard that you’re here, I had this game designed just for you.”

“Designed?” your eyes never leave her as you frown. These games are designed by people?

You were curious but she ignores your question. “I wanted to see what’s so great about you.” The bitter tone of her voice doesn’t pass by you. It was clear that this girl doesn’t like you.

“Do you…” Her voice was deadly like it could cut like a sharp knife. Her eyes were focused on you like a target. “Do you know how miserable you made me feel?”

“Obviously not,” you replied with sarcasm, not giving into her sentiments. It would be better not to waste time, you only had 10 minutes left to clear the game.

The girl audibly scoffs so you continue. “I don’t know the reason nor do I care. Tell me the challenge and we can get this over with.”

Asaki’s gaze burn through yours as she removes the crown on her head and throws it on the ground. “The crown is worth 50 votes,” she says, eyes not leaving yours and showing you the cuff on her wrist, 2020 votes, the year she won her award. “You get it if you beat me in a fight.” She puts herself into a stance, getting ready to fight.

“Fine,” you answer, throwing your belt bag across the floor and cracking a few bones of your knuckles. “Are there any rules?”

It’s all bullshit. You know there are no rules in a fight for your life. This is a fight. But still, you ask. It wouldn’t hurt to know if there are.

You read her stance. She’s good, guarded and ready. From her built, it’s clear that she’s experienced. She must be an athlete from her younger years like you. It’s a no brainer, if she’s a receiver of the Ivy Award, then she has been trained like you.

“Rules? There are no rules. No stopping until one of us dies.” Her arrogance was something you take note of. It seems that her confidence is one of her biggest traits. For now, you need to see what she can do.

She attacks first, swinging a fist at your face. You block it and attack with a fist, to which she follows up with a guarding technique of her arms. You move away but she follows that technique with a kick. You dodge her foot by crouching, all while staring at her with burning eyes.

Kickboxing.

It’s the closest to modern-day MMA. From what you saw, this girl is a striker.

You launch forward, heading for her middle. It was fast but she was able to raise her knee which you avoid. Good. She’s good. But what about her footwork?

Pivoting your front foot, you shot your rear leg out and aim at her middle again. She quickly steps away, leaving your foot hitting nothing but the air. Great. Her footwork is good too. You jump back to your feet, raising your fists and moving away from her in a quick motion.

“Taekwondo?” She smirks, her eyes giving you a condescending look as if she’s about to laugh. “It was your favorite, wasn’t it?”

How did she know that? This girl… just who was she and what have you done for her to know you like this?

“So you’ve studied me?” you ask with a smirk, feigning your curiosity.

“Day and night,” she replies. “I watched all your tournaments,” she jabs, you avoid. “Your championships,” she kicks, you block. “Your training,” she swings, you move away. “All because they wanted me to be like you!” She lunges forward and you let her, she grasps the back of your head and gives you a knee strike, hitting you right in the stomach.

You free yourself from her hold, stumbling and landing a few steps from her when she lets go. She laughs like a maniac.

“You’ve become rusty,” she spats.

“Come on,” you raise your fists into a stance once again. “I haven’t even started,” you say and give her a grin.

Her forehead creases as she furrowed her brows, eyes blazing. So her favorite’s kickboxing. You know what to do. Her footwork’s great, her kicks and punches are strong too, it would be dangerous if she attacks you like she did last time. Front kicks are one of their best attacks.

You attack diagonally, catching her off guard. You throw a punch and it lands straight to her face. A kickboxers’ weakness is defending an attack coming diagonally. You have to get close to her.

You attempt to throw punches hastily, making her dodge away again and again until you corner her to a wall. She takes this as a chance to hold the back of your neck again with both hands, catching you in a Thai Clinch. Just like before, you know she’d throw you a knee strike.

Before she could raise her knee, you put both her arms in your hold tightly, preventing her to move. Using your elbow, you give her a strike to her jaw with the single intent to create the worst damage possible. Your jab connected with a crack and you know you broke her jaw. Once the move made her lose focus, you repeatedly take a jab at her, one punch after another.

Blood sputters out of her mouth and she spits as you move away again. You were pretty sure you saw a tooth fall out.

“Forfeit,” you order and her bloodshot eyes gave nothing to you but hatred. You match her threatening gaze. “Before I kill you.”

“Are you kidding?” There’s blood in the corners of her mouth from your punches yet she stands strong.

“Seven years,” she looks up to the ceiling, tears lining up her eyes. “For seven fucking years, I was told that I should be like you.” You’ve known since she greeted you that there’s something that lies here deeper. But who cares? So she’s been forced to work hard for the award, how is that your fault?

“And you failed,” you bluntly state, eyes devoid of emotion.

Her eyes widened in disbelief of your words. She scoffs, tears threatening to spill as she glares at you with resentment. “Failed? I won your award. I did it all!”

An ill feeling fills your stomach as she bares herself. She had become too emotional. One thing you learned about fighting is that your opponent doesn’t care. A real opponent goes straight for the kill. This… is nothing but a sparring session.

“So? After that, what did you do?” you ask, titling your head.

You rush forward, spinning around and straightening your legs to kick her head mid-air. Asaki was pulled of her feet violently and thrown across the floor. She slides along the gym floor, halting just a few inches away from the wall.

“Stand up and tell me,” you instruct her as you land. You wait for her to recover, her forehead bleeding from the impact of your kick.

Rage colored Asaki’s vision red as she uses her arms to push herself back up. “I…” It was a weak attempt, she couldn’t even sputter out the words. Her chest heaves up and down as she stands to her feet, for a moment, you thought she was gonna puke but she recovers. “I died.”

She snarled and rushes towards you and you await her attack, ready to counter it. Mid-air she raises her fist and you raise your hand, catching her burning fists in yours. However, she uses this misdirect to knee the wound of your thigh. You grunt, taking in the pain and trying not to let it falter you.

“You haven’t…” you grit through your teeth and use your free hand in attempt to smash it to her face. Asaki manages to block this, locking your arm and jabbing your stomach repeatedly. Using her strong hold from locking you, you jump and use both of your free legs to kick a blow to her stomach, sending you both flying away from each other and hitting the floor.

You don’t waste any time, jumping to your feet and launching yourself to her body on the ground. You put her in a chokehold, jabbing at her face repeatedly as you sit on her stomach. “Dying? That’s your reason?” You say to her ear. She spins, making you land on her back. You lock her with your legs, grabbing her hair to raise her head. “Give me something better.”

You free her from your hold, jumping away from her range.

When she fully stands up, you throw a kick as the same time as her. Her left leg hits your outer right thigh and you hit her inner right thigh. She staggers because of this and you use the opportunity to jab three heavy hits to her head. Right. Left. Right. Her head has been hit enough for it to be fatal and she falls to her back.

Cleverly, she uses her legs and feet to block your attacks. You push through, using your body weight to receive the attacks from her legs. She locks you in with her legs on either side of your torso. You let her. If you try to escape, she’ll just lock your head.

In the underground, you’ve fought men and women of different weights. It was often that you were underestimated because of your height and weight. So, you let them think you were weak. But what they don’t know is you got them right where you wanted them—close enough for you to kill.

You use both your hands to block hers, smashing her wrists on the floor. Then, you smash your head against hers. That doesn’t stop you. You use your elbows once again, landing one blow after another. You don’t stop even after you see her face covered in blood.

When her hands lay limp with no force, you take a hand off and use this to grip her neck.

She struggles to breathe from your hold but you don’t let her. If you were inside a stage, a referee would’ve stopped you by now. But that’s not the case for you. Not for a long time.

“Where did you go last night?”

Chishiya asks as soon as you sit down beside him in the room. You ignore him, pretending you don’t hear him because of your earphones. He’s talking about the last dance. When he wasn’t looking, you slipped away from the venue and escaped. You left your bag with him and he only noticed when he couldn’t find you in the crowd anymore. You couldn’t help it, you were overwhelmed by your father and Chishiya. Not only is he controlling your career but he’s controlling your relationships too?

You took a cab ride away from the hotel, still wearing your gown. You told the driver to just drive around and he did. In the ride, you spot a neon signage. It was a club you always see. It had an interesting name; Sarutahiko.

You’ve seen cars come and go there. What you’ve noticed is they all seemed to be very wealthy. You asked for the car to stop by near and without thinking, you made your way into the club, clutching a wealthy man’s arm and pretending to be his date.

That night, instead of being in Chishiya’s arms for the last dance, you won your first fight in the underground. The beloved dress you had made for thousands of dollars, they were ripped and worn when you came home, dirt and scratches running along your skin.

It was the first time you felt it—the euphoria.

When you fought with no rules and no holding back, nothing mattered. You weren’t the beloved athlete that has a bright future ahead of her as an heir of the L/N family. You were just Y/N, or as the underground calls you, 極真王女 (Kyokushin Ojo; trans: Ultimate Truth Princess; “Kyokushin” is a type of Karate)

Like a princess, you entered the arena in your sparkling gown and destroyed your opponent in five minutes. It was then and there that you decided, you will no longer fight your father’s opposition to your sports. This will be your life and your death.

A life with Chishiya, it’ll be a privilege. You like him… and with his and your father’s deal, you’ll be able to live your other life in peace. Fine, you’ll play the part of the pretty spoiled princess.

Chishiya doesn’t press further but from your lack of luster in your eyes, he understood that something died inside you that day. From then on, you dropped all your sports and didn’t fight your father’s refusal to all the universities that wanted to scout you even if they offered medical studies in exchange for your athletic participation.

If there was one thing you regret, it was you and Chishiya never had your last dance.

You feel it again. The euphoria running through your veins. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Even if you hear the taps, don’t stop.

Asaki gasps for air, her face reddening as her wide eyes scream for help. You don’t notice this, darkened eyes not even showing mercy or any emotion. You’ve been completely shut off and in auto pilot as you throw one punch and another.

Why should you? Your father never stopped.

“N-no!”

Asaki pushes you off with all her strength, sending off her body. You’re quickly on your feet again, ready to attack as your opponent catches her breath. Asaki sprang of her hands, throwing herself in to a spin that showed off a gymnast’ skill. Like a whirling tornado, she was too fast for you to block or counter-attack.

She doesn’t kick your head and instead kicks your side. You were thrown across the floor, skiddling and tumbling. A groan escapes your lips at the pain that shot through your ribs, adding to the pain of your thigh.. Yeah, your ribs are definitely cracked.

“You said you’ll protect me,” Chishiya whispers in a low voice, you were sure only you could hear it. You did say it back there in the furniture shop.

He spins you around, making you face the door. His hands are still on your shoulder when he leans in.

“Protect me,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. For some reason, it sounded genuine. He wasn’t trying to manipulate you into going. He was motivating you, maybe even pleading.

I’m sorry, Asaki.

You sprang to your feet, ignoring the screaming pain of your ribs. You face your opponent once again, the same distance from when you started. But this time, something was different. In your opponent’s hands, was a butterfly knife.

She was smirking at you like she finally got you. She’s an idiot.

“Fine,” you huff, giving her an equally sinister grin. “You studied all my moves in high school.” You put yourself in a fighting stance again. “I’ll give it to you. You’re a great fighter. You know all the moves, techniques, and all that shit.”

“You did all that research about me… yet you didn’t ask why I stopped?” You don’t even glance once at her weapon again. “Pathetic.”

She lunges with a scream, swinging the knife at you.

You stepped in, closing the gap between you and Asaki, dodging her weapon and striking her upper and lower arm. As your strike clashes with hers, the force makes her arm holding the weapon go limp. You grab her arm, twisting it until her hand is pointed towards the ceiling.

With Asaki’s chest unprotected, you pivot and strike her with your elbow and then your foot to her leg. She loses balance and you use this to take the weapon from her hand.

In a swift motion, you swing the weapon, slashing her across the face. Crimson red drips from her already blooded cheek, adding to the wound on her forehead. She puts a hand to her face, finally executing fright for the first time in the fight.

And then you understand.

The career she wanted instead of the Ivy Award—it was beauty.

Instead of the Ivy Award, she wanted to be prom queen. Life wasn’t for her but she was thrusted into it too. It was so simple and yet you were blinded by the game to notice. You understood. A slash to the face was hard to cover especially if it scars. You were very careful about your face when you fought in the underground.

You feel bad but who were you to be a saint?

You strike a blow to her stomach with your foot, sending her staggering a few steps back. Her focus is still on the wound on her face. She has completely dropped her guard and looked like a simple high school girl who was attacked out of nowhere.

“You were right,” you say as you throw the knife away. “Taekwondo was my favorite. I still use ITF from time to time.”

She was not even guarded yet you continue. One straight powerful jab to the center of her chest. She accepts the attack but doesn’t fall down, eyes widened and coughing at the force of the attack.

“The reason why I stopped competing… was because I found something better.”

Asaki backs away, feeling an unexplained fright. She knows something has shifted as you stride towards her with blazing eyes. Even your walk seemed powerful, exerting an aura of strength and power.

Kyokushin Karate… is the strongest martial art in the world.

Its sole goal is defeating its opponent. Different from Taekwondo at its very core, it’s focused on real fights. There’s no protective gear, just pure hand-to-hand combat.

Those who practice Kyokushin as a martial art, they’re unfamiliar with attacks aimed at the head. But not you. The only reason attacks aimed at the head are banned in Kyokushin Karate is because…

There were too many casualties.

You send a straight punch to Asaki’s face, her head receiving the full force impact of your fist.

You swing your right arm, hitting her across the jaw. Asaki tries to kick your side as a counter attack but you dodge.

If your right arm’s not enough, use your left.

You swing your left arm this time, hitting her cheek and you actually feel her teeth through your fist. Even as you hit her, Asaki uses her hand to slap you across the cheek. You’re thrown off, so you spin and kicked off your legs.

If your left arm isn't enough, use your legs.

The heel of your feet strikes the junction of her neck and shoulder, sending her kneeling on the floor with a loud thud.

You tackle her down like you did before, with your legs on either side of her torso, she could only watch as you repeat your move from before.

And if your legs don’t cut it, use your head.

You smash your head with hers with a loud thud and she goes into shock, eyes wide open as she could no longer move. Her body stills underneath you as she stares up at nothingness.

The spirit of Kyokushin Karate… is a person’s strong will that is never broken.

2 MINUTES LEFT

“That’s…” Her eyes remained unmoving. “Karate.”

Tired, you stand up as she still lays still on the ground, broken bones and wounded face.

“You’ve done well,” you mumble but you’re sure she can hear. You wipe the blood on her face but it does nothing but spread it. You see her face clearly even with the blood. She was pretty with an innocent face now that she’s put down her guard and hatred. “You can rest now, beautiful.”

And finally, the tears spill out of her eyes and she cries. She cries and cries until they turn into sobs. She cried like the kid that she is, hungry for love—hungry for someone to listen to her. It was all too familiar. You know the feeling all too well.

Walking away from her cries, you pick up the plastic piece of crown. It was silver and had pink stones all around it.

Limping to the stage, you make your way to the prop throne. You sit down on it and groan at the feeling of resting your beat up body.

1 MINUTE

You place the crown on your head and place your bloodied fists on either sides of the arm rests. The cuff on your wrists flash with a sound and a green light.

+ 50 votes

It was followed by a ding and the girl’s automated voice.

CONGRATULATIONS

GAME CLEAR

And then you see it, the laser coming down from the sky and onto Asaki’s skull.

Stepping out of the gym, you find the other players waiting for you silently. They seemed to be looking up at something so you follow their gaze.

There was a camera. All that happened back there, they saw it.

You stood there in silence, waiting for something to happen next. Their gaze falls on you with your burnt knuckles and the plastic crown on your head. These people, they looked at you with fright in their eyes. It was a familiar look—the audience’s disbelief when you don’t hold yourself back.

“Great job,” Heiya was the first one to approach you with a smirk, putting a hand on your shoulder. It was her and Chishiya who didn’t look scared of you.

You smile, giving her a nod.

Just like that, the other players began giving you their thanks. Out of nine people, six of you survived. They all thanked you, the girl in the headband even hugging you.

All six of you walk out of the game, looking up as the Queen of Clubs’ blimp self-destructs with explosion. Beside you, Chishiya is also looking up, smirking. He was properly beautiful.

Arisu asked you what made you like this man so much and you told him it was because Chishiya grounds you. You never really knew how to explain it until now.

When you were fighting in the underground, it was brutal. It was your way of feeling pain–to feel alive. If you didn’t have Chishiya in your life, you would’ve stayed in the underground forever. But Shuntaro, he gives you a reason to come back to your life.

So you can annoy him.

You were back in the apartment with Chishiya after you searched for some medical supplies for your injury. As always, he was silent.

“You can shower if you want,” Chishiya breaks the silence, pulling you off your thoughts while you sat on the couch. You nod and leave him alone in the living room.

After you shower, you wore a plain white shirt and some lounge shorts you found in one of the drawers. When you step out of the room, Chishiya still wore the clothes he had outside but he stood over portable stove, stirring what smelled to be like instant noodles.

He sees you and carries the pot over to the table. The table is already set.

You never thought you’d see the day, Domestic Chishiya. A malewife. You place a hand over your mouth, preventing the smile on your face from forming. Instead, your face contorts into a funny face, earning a glare from Chishiya.

“Are you just going to stand there or eat?” He deadpans.

You bite your lips, shutting yourself up and made your way to the table. “Thank you for the food,” you said, sincerely. He scoffs, sitting across from you.

The two of you ate quietly, you slurp the ramen noodles like its your last meal. It wouldn’t be so bad. Instant Ramen by Chishiya. You giggle in your head, a smile spreading on your face.

When you finish your food, you opted to wash the dishes while Chishiya showers. Looking around, the apartment, you found something really cool—a record player. You inspect it and it looks like it’s the kind that doesn’t need electricity. Your heart swells with excitement, searching for vinyls around the place. You found a box inside the room filled with it and you clap to yourself happily.

“No way,” you react when you turn a knob and found it actually works.

“What’s that?” Chishiya walks in the living room, his jacket long abandoned and wearing a shirt and lounge shorts. Did he match what you were wearing?

“It’s the only thing he has,” he defends himself even when you haven’t said anything.

You pause, thinking if you should say anything but you ignore it, remembering your brilliant discovery. “Look! It’s a record player!”

He sighs. “You’ll only attract others with the sound.”

Your face fell. “Then I’ll beat them up.” You ignore his protests, going over to him and grabbing his hand to pull him over to the record player. He follows you limply, bored and annoyed as always.

You’re not very familiar with the vinyls so you just grab one with a familiar name, Nat King Cole. You placed it on the record player, figuring out how it plays. It began playing but it was too fast. You look up at Chishiya with wide eyes, wondering what you did wrong. He sighs, reaching over to some tiny lever on the turntable and pushing it to number 33.

“It’s the wrong speed,” he tells you.

The song began playing at a normal speed and you grin widely.

It was a slow love song and an idea pops into your mind.

“You know, something popped into my mind back there,” you face your friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. He stills but doesn’t remove your hand.

When I fall in love, it will be forever Or I’ll never fall in love

“We never got to finish our last dance back in high school,” you say with a smirk. “And you promised.”

Surprisingly, Chishiya doesn’t argue. So, you place your other hand around his neck, connecting it with your other hand. You pull him closer, his face inches away from yours. From here, you can see his face clearly. His eyelashes that flutter as he blinks, the creases of his forehead when he scrunches his brows slightly, his lips that were ever so slightly parted. He stays quiet, eyes on your face as if memorizing it like what you were doing to his.

You brought down your hands to place his on your waist and again, he surprisingly doesn’t remove them. You place your hands back to where they belong, pulling him in again. You started to sway with the music, willing Chishiya to do the same.

“I’m sorry.” The words come out of his mouth like air. If you weren’t close enough, you wouldn’t have heard it. Heat rushes to your face as your eyes widen. Did you really just hear Chishiya apologize to you?

Your shock melts into a tightlipped smile. “You’re just going to have to make it up to me by loving me forever.” It was a reference to the song that was playing.

He scoffs at your cheesy words. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Love. It’s a privilege. You know that you two aren’t children made by love. It’s the reason why you two find it so hard to believe that love exists. Chishiya no doubt finds it harder to believe. He doesn’t understand the sentiment–the romance.

“Fine. Tell me,” he mumbled. You stare back at him, unsure of what he means. His eyes were steady, focused on you and begging in his own way. It takes years of experience to notice the subtle changes of emotion his face makes and your heart swells at the slight tremble of his lips. “Tell me what to do instead.”

Your brows slightly furrow, cheeks reddening and eyes glossy. When he’s not showcasing his intelligence and mischief, Chishiya is a man of few words. As your eyes are locked on each other, you bare yourself open into nothingness. Nothing mattered, not the games, not even the meaning of life. It was neither warm nor cold. Looking into Chishiya’s eyes was like looking into a mirror you cannot escape and yet you’d like to drown in them.

“Worship me,” you proposed in a commanding manner, finding confidence in yourself and what you feel for him.

“Worship?” he asks with a confused and amused tone in his voice.

“Love is overrated. Worship me instead.”

And he smirks, pulling your waist closer. His lips touch yours and your world exploded. There weren’t fireworks, no sparks… it’s just felt like summer day. A bright sky, lighting up the road as the breeze hits your skin. His hand is heavy on your waist, your body fully aware of all of him. Your mouth melted into his, everything else is forgotten. The tip of your tongue brushes his and he parts his lips, welcoming you in. You cling unto him, longing more of him.

And the moment I can feel that You feel that way too Is when I fall in love with you

#chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya shuntarou #chishiya imagine #chishiya fluff #chishiya angst #chishiya x you #chishiya fanfic #chishiya smut #nijiro murakami

1K notes · View notes

koqabear · 1 year

Text

Stuck With You

Song suggestion: What Is It About Her?

“Taehyun hates everything about you; your pride, your stubbornness, and the way you plague his thoughts with dangerous desires that threaten to break down his walls.”

king! Taehyun x fem! mage!reader

Genre: enemies to enemies (but like there’s a twist), royalty!au, angst, smut, fantasy!au

word count: 7.9K

Warnings: Tons of bickering, Taehyun is condescending, jealousy, they literally hate each other, so lots of anger and fighting, mentions of TH being abusive (isn’t actually, nothing happens), manhandling,

Smut warnings: hard dom!Taehyun, brat!mc, sub(?)!mc, dubcon(?) (omg what), hate sex wahhh, rough sex, manhandling, (again!! There’s a lot) degrading, name calling, (filthy, pathetic), biting, dry humping, binding wrists/hands, marking, knife play, breast play, unprotected sex, mocking, edging, choking, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie

Notes: Am I incapable of writing a story under 5K? It seems so. I was listening to this damn song the entire time I wrote this and omg I’m so tired of it but it also manages to encapsulate their relationship perfectly. Hope u guys enjoy Taehyun manhandling the shit outta the reader bc for some reason it just kept happening…. I think I need to self reflect for a bit.

Taehyun has never liked you.

You’re so fickle, a cocky eyesore that he can never seem to escape from— too smart, too wicked, tongue always sharpened to a point as you never knew when to avert your eyes; when to bow down to your Royal Highness.

He cannot fathom having to spend his waking days around you— yet, fate seems to punish him in such laughable ways.

“Your Highness,” he’s forced out of his thoughts as he is called, the title so familiar that the sound of his own name is starting to fade from memory, forced as a young child to take responsibility after his deceased father and become the person he is today.

His every move is practiced, careful, and familiar as he regards the faceless maid before him, not bothering to turn back around as he continues his morning walk. His robes brush against the warm earth, the wind around him bringing about the early signs of spring as it sings against his skin, cooling him down as the hurried steps of the maid follow before him.

“The mage is summoning you— I’m afraid it is important; she has summoned the royal court as well… they currently wait for your arrival.”

Taehyun’s steps cease beneath the graveled path. He says nothing, seemingly unaffected by the news as he nods his head slowly. The day was so beautiful, he finds himself thinking, chest heaving with a disappointed sigh as he turns to follow the servant.

But of course, you had to come along and ruin it.

✧ ✧

“Your Highness. This is not a joke.”

Taehyun supposes he’s bad at hiding his expressions, if the way you stare him down with fire in your eyes means anything. The conference room is stuffy with the number of people that send him curious stares, unable to fathom how he could not take the current news seriously.

“The Southern Kingdom is persistent with their threats of war— they truly believe we are the ones behind the massacre of their villages.”

“It’s a wonder how a kingdom survived for so long under such a stupid ruler, isn’t it?” Taehyun heeds no warning from your words, sighing as he looks out the window and observes the lovely day before him. “I might go hunting today, what do you think?”

Your hands that slam down on the wooden table startle everyone but him; you’re standing, eyes narrowed dangerously as you leer at him from the other side of the long, rectangular conference table.

“I think you’d be stupid to not act on these threats immediately.” You grit out, jaw clenched as you take in the way the King seems to be unbothered by your insults. He simply shrugs, sparing a glance to the head guard before he’s leaning back in his seat, closing his eyes as his hands remain folded neatly in his lap.

“Yeonjun,” he drawls, peeking at you through lidded eyes as he speaks, “what do you think?”

He doesn’t miss the way Yeonjun sits up in his seat in surprise, adam’s apple bobbing before he’s clearing his throat, gaze averted as he speaks to his King.

“Your Majesty,” he begins, a hand on his chest as he stares at the dark wood of the table, “I think it is best for us to clear our name. A war during these times would set back our countries drastically.”

Taehyun hums, nodding his head in recognition. “You’re right. I want you and a few of your men to investigate those villages; be discreet, I don’t want you to be traced back to us if you get caught.”

“Someone arrange a meeting with the Southern Kingdom’s royal mage— I must speak to them, it is urgent. And you,” it is no surprise when Taehyun’s eyes meet yours, pausing to regard your disgruntled state. “Stay. I must speak to you privately.”

There’s nothing you can do but grit your teeth and plant your stance as everyone scatters out of the room— afraid of the King’s anger, of the way his jaw clenches with annoyance. His eyes never leave yours, yet the heat that radiates from his gaze almost burns up the room, everyone’s gazes planted to the ground as they bow meekly to him before they exit.

It’s just you and him now; Unfortunately, you think, bracing yourself for another scolding from your arrogant King.

“That was no way to speak to your Ruler.”

It feels as though you’re on fire; it takes everything within you to compose yourself, fists clenched tightly behind your back as you narrow your eyes at his words. You hate it— you hate him with your whole being. The way he seems to be unbothered, tired eyes fluttering shut as he leans back in his seat, a deep sigh escaping him as his lips part tiredly.

“My Ruler only pays attention when you scream in his face, it seems,” you seethe, ignoring the way his eyes snap open to give you a cautioning glare, “he’s a very arrogant man.”

He huffs out a laugh, but there’s no amusement behind it all. Slowly, he stands, his robes fluttering with his movements as he looks down at you angrily— if there’s one thing that will always cloud his mind, it’s his pride.

This same pride prompts him to walk to you, dangerous and slow, warning you to tuck your tail and apologize; you’ll do no such thing, your gaze only sharpening more with every step he takes closer to you. You’re restless, resisting the urge to lash out again as your tongue sharpens against your teeth; lips screwed tightly together, jaw clenched as you wait for him to do something, anything— hit you, yell at you, dismiss you— but he does none of the sort, coming dangerously close to you as he observes you curiously.

It’s silent; you’re practically sharing the very air you breathe, both of you waiting for the other to break as you meet his gaze, refusing to look away for even a second.

Taehyun takes a moment to observe you; your eyes, angry and restless, sharp as they dig into his own. You’re tense, your body practically ready to shake as you keep your jaw clenched, lips pursed together as you hold back another nasty jab directed at him.

You’re like a puppy; all bark and no bite, unable to truly stand up to him in fear of treason— you need this job, your only source to provide for your family in the far-off village you came from. He could dismiss you, break you, watch as you beg him for forgiveness in fear of putting your family at risk— the idea is dangerously appealing to him, the thought of finally having you at his feet making his lips twitch in amusement.

Taehyun holds your life in his hands, and the realization of it sends a deadly lick of fire through his body.

“How cute,” he mutters, watching the way your brows twitch in anger at his comment.

“For a second, I almost let your words get to me.”

The comment does more damage than any other strike ever could— because for a second, Taehyun’s gaze almost softened, the smile that grazed his lips more frightening than any threat he could muster.

A sharp shiver wracks through you; bitterly, you realize that Taehyun managed to gain the upper hand over you once again.

✧ ✧

The first time he dreams of you, Taehyun is terrified.

He wakes up in distress, an ache forming between his eyes from the pure confusion and anger that overtakes him. He lets out a shaky sigh as he sits up, sinking back into the soft pillows of his bed; his whole body trembles, disoriented and in denial as he attempts to block out everything his traitorous mind conjoined up.

But it doesn’t work. His day is ruined, his mind flashing images of the scenario that manages to haunt even his waking hours.

In the morning, he makes his way to the garden; fresh air will do him good, he figures, the cool air and floral scent that drifts through the wind calming his beating heart. But then, his fingers caress the petals of his favorite roses— ruby red, the color stunning to his eyes— and he finds himself touching the velvet of your skin, your bare hips and warm thighs that encase him, alluring and soft as your precious lips are reddened and mischievous; swollen, begging for more as his teeth sink on the soft flesh like he was born to do so.

He’s quick to exit the garden after that.

His afternoon isn’t much better, his mood sour after dealing with countless meetings and petty problems— he’s exhausted as he leans back into his throne, a distraught sigh escaping him as allows himself to shut his eyes for just a moment— then he’s back to the dreaded memory of you, cute and pliant as you shift restlessly in his lap; your face flushed, hair and clothes a mess as you weakly beg for him to touch you, to please you.

The moment his name leaves your lips, whiny and desperate, is the moment he jumps up from his throne.

Taehyun.

The sound is so realistic, haunting his mind as the ghost of your whine echoes through his ears; it follows him relentlessly, leaving him in distress as he wonders what a dream like that could possibly mean.

By the end of the day, Taehyun feels as though he may lose his mind; he’s unable to stay in one place, his mind inevitably wandering back to you if he doesn’t find something that takes away his full attention. He’s a mess by the time he’s wandering the corridors, ready to go back to his room as his eyes land on the last thing he would ever want to see.

You’re so relaxed, a smile gracing your face as you converse with Hueningkai, one of Captain Yeonjun’s guards, the two of you so close and giddy that Taehyun can’t help but stop and watch.

He’s never seen you like this; he’s never bothered to either, but something about the way you lean into Hueningkai so closely, unafraid to enter his space as the two of you whisper coyly to each other, is enough to have Taehyun bristle up and walk away.

The emotion is ugly and dreadful as Taehyun shakes his head, a heavy huff leaving him as he beelines straight to his bed— the same bed where he had you under him, your breaths brushing his skin as you panted desperately for more; the very bed where he kissed you until his lungs burned, pressing you into the bedding until your bodies melded together.

Angrily, Taehyun resists the urge to abandon his bed and stay in another room; even now, you seem to haunt him ‘till his wit's end.

✧ ✧

The second time Taehyun dreams of you, he’s more frustrated than terrified.

He sincerely thought it had all been bad luck; his unfulfilled needs melting with his hatred for you, an unlucky concoction as his mind conjured thoughts unspeakable. It had all been nothing but a fluke he hoped, but as he stares out the window and into the scenery of his land, he can’t help but remember the way he had you pressed up against this very glass, his lips unrelenting against your neck as he whispered words that had you crying and begging for more.

As he writes to other kingdoms, he finds himself staring at his hands; the same ones that had a bruising grip on your hips, bunching up your garments as he pressed himself firmly against you— he can recall the way you melted under his touch, compliant and needy as you let yourself be ravished by him.

The you in his dreams doesn’t compare to the one that haunts his waking hours— only, in a much more horrid way, as he finds that his temper with you has decreased into something minuscule. He sees it in the way you tense when he so much as enters the same room as you, the rest of his servants sparing you a pitied glance before they duck their heads before him; afraid, meek, and unsure of what he may do to you or anyone who annoys him.

But even though his patience with you has withered thin, you still find it in yourself to whip him with such insults and humiliations, unafraid of the consequences as you continue to look Taehyun boldly in the eye.

He could have you disappear with a snap of his fingers— yet, time has ruthlessly shown him that you’re a more valuable asset than he once thought. No, he can’t get rid of you even if he wanted to— his mage, the best in the land and the only one that could ever manage to put up with him.

The thought of being stuck with you is vile.

✧ ✧

By the nth time he dreams of you, Taehyun firmly believes that it is no longer an accident.

You’re a mage— why didn’t he think of this sooner? The blood in his veins is coursing with fire by the time it all connects, his steps rough and brisk as he makes his way to the place where it all started; the dreadful doors of the meeting room greet him, cracked open to insinuate that someone opened them already.

You’re scared stiff when the doors slam open; whirling around, you’re left face to face with the very man you’d rather not be left alone with, the doors swinging back shut behind him. You’re nervous, a lump in your throat forming as the fire and anger you always find igniting when you see him dissipates, feeling as though water had been dumped on it.

That very water manifests itself as Taehyun; there’s something different about him, something serious in the way he stares you down, eerily silent and angry as he storms toward you. You feel a witty remark bubble up in your throat, but you’re forced to push it down as you take in the way he’s teeming with rage, unpredictable and unstable as he makes his way to you.

He towers over you, his robes furling around him as his hand presses firmly to your chest; presses against your heart, nervous and quick as he continues to walk, forcing you to stumble back from the brute strength he possesses— the air is practically knocked out of your lungs from how hard he pushes you against the wall.

“You did this,” he says, eyes narrowed in distaste as he takes in the way you look up at him in confusion, daring to feign ignorance that only angers him more, “you evil wench, how dare you do this to your King?”

Your eyes widen at his words; he can feel the way your heartbeat is unrelenting against his palm, your hand swatting him away as you grow defensive. The back of his hand stings from the slap, a fire spreading from the very place you touched him; he can’t help but cradle his hand close to his chest, offended at the way you disrespect him so, even when his warning gaze is searing onto your skin.

“You speak nonsense,” you spit out, brows knitting together as you look at him with pure offense, “for I have no idea of what you allude to.”

He can’t help but let out an incredulous laugh; even now that he has you cornered, you dare lie to him— even worse, he’s forced to step back, the images of the nights where he would dream of you flustered and pressed against the wall coming back to the forefront of his mind.

He can’t control himself, the carnal and disgusting thoughts plaguing his mind as rage fills his being; he’s backing away before he does anything drastic, the images flashing through his mind as a rough fist collides onto the table behind him. His eyes are shut tight, teeth gritted together as he seethes, ignoring the way you stand back, pressing yourself against the wall in confusion.

“This—“ he says, huffing as he opens his eyes, meeting yours before he can help himself— and there you are again, pleading for him to use you until he no longer can— “These cursed thoughts, you did this to me—!”

He feels weak in the knees as he looks at you, his mind running off to places they shouldn’t as he attempts to ignore the intrusive thoughts; you’re still, unsure of what to do as you watch your majesty slowly lose composure.

Jumping, you’re reduced to the very person you were when you arrived at the palace; meek, useless, and afraid as he runs to you, grabbing ahold of your shoulders and tossing you around until your hips meet the back of the very table he was once leaning on; he’s leaning you back, your arms forced to support yourself as his fingers dig roughly into your shoulders, towering over you as he scowls menacingly.

“Undo this,” he says, exasperated and breathy as he becomes reminiscent of the nights when he would toss and turn in bed, forced to confront all of these imaginations that included you, pliant and needy under his touch. His eyes screw shut, teeth gritting together as he refuses to look at you, “undo this wretched spell this instant!”

His grip is bruising; you yelp at the way he shakes you, never seeing him this desperate and angry as a hand reaches up to push against his chest; but it’s useless, his strength outdoing yours easily as he growls at your weak attempt to run away.

“I’ve done no such thing—!”

“Don’t you lie to me!” He’s quick to cut you off, volume raising significantly as the adrenaline begins to course through both your veins, “I know you’ve done this, this disgusting spell that haunts my nights— how dare you attempt such a thing to your king, do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”

“I’ve done nothing!” You scream, a sudden strength aiding you as you push against his chest with both hands, watching as he stumbles back harshly, his back colliding with the wall behind him— the sight is reminiscent of what he did to you moments ago.

“Have you lost your mind?!” You say, exasperated as you watch his hardened gaze, the way his fists shake with anger at his sides, “I’ve done nothing— yet you accuse me of such— such things that you don’t even dare speak of!

For a moment, there is only silence and the sound of your panting breaths; you hate the way your hands shake as you grip the edge of the table, gulping harshly as you take in the way he hasn’t moved a single inch.

“I know you hate me,” you huff, jaw clenching as you pause, regaining your composure before continuing, “but you’ve gone too far. This is low, your highness, even for you.”

“Low?” Taehyun echoes, disbelief on his face as he finally moves; he steps towards you, watching the way you begin to flee in retaliation, “you speak of being low?”

Predator and prey; you can’t help but feel as though this is all you’ve been reduced to, tense and careful as you make your way back to the door; he follows you, his pace matching yours as he allows you to inch closer to the door.

“What’s low is the way you haunt my dreams, calling out for me like you’d die if I wasn’t near you,” your heart is thundering in your chest, bewildered by his words as you find yourself right behind the door; you’re frozen, waiting for the moment he’ll let his guard down so you can slip out and run.

“You, you of all people,” he spits, as though the very words were fire on his tongue, “persistent—almost every night it would happen, haunting even my waking days as I was forced to turn the other way when I saw you in the corridors.”

You don’t care anymore; it’s reckless, but you bolt for the door, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you reach for the door handle— but Taehyun is faster, a hand clamping on your wrist and tugging you back as he uses you to slam the doors fully shut, the latches clicking as the wood knocks out the air from your lungs.

Taehyun presses against you; you’re like fire against him, and he finds himself thawed the moment he feels your body against his, the empty mold that came from his dreams as he finds his mind clouding dangerously.

“What’s low,” he hisses, tugging you closer as his hand grips your waist ruthlessly. He’s so close, you couldn’t avoid him even if you closed your eyes— you don’t dare to, the look in his eyes fatal as he traps you in the very spell he’s found himself in.

“Is the way you forced me to yearn for your touch.”

Any cruel words that were hanging precariously on your tongue quickly fade away; instead, Taehyun is kissing you with an angry passion, his hand cupping your jaw and pulling you close as he presses your body into the door. His lips are rough and ruthless as they take from you, prying you open and getting the taste that he only imagined in his dreams.

You’re left weak against him, your body automatically reciprocating as all the words left unsaid travel between the two of you. The hatred, anger, and confusion are interchanged, a groan escaping you as he bites down on your lip.

He’s rough, not sparing you for even a second as continues to take, unable to do anything else but enjoy the way you grow stupid against his grip, the kiss harsh and messy as you allow him to be the only thing holding you up. Your knees are weak, and if it weren’t for Taehyun pressing you harshly against the door, you would’ve fallen a long while ago.

He’s unable to hold himself back as he bunches up the fabric of your garments, bunching up your skirts before he’s able to press himself against you; the moan you let out is broken and weak, his robes fluttering around you as he smiles against your lips; your mind has emptied by now, the perfect vessel to let him satiate the need that plagued him after so many dreams— drool is beginning to form at the corners of your lips, and even as you tap Taehyun relentlessly, he refuses to pull away; day after day, he was forced to be around your excruciating presence while being forced to pretend that he couldn’t feel the ghost of your lips, couldn’t imagine the way you would sound when he hit a spot that drove you crazy.

His hips rut against you roughly; he’s unstoppable, messy moans harmonizing with your own as he reaches for your hands; his fingers lock around your wrists, bringing them up and slamming them against the wood as he delivers a particularly harsh thrust; he watches the way your face scrunches up, eyes fluttering shut as your body bounces up with him.

The sound you let out is akin to the ones in his dreams, leading him to believe that you’re nothing but a fox, a filthy liar that attempts to save face no matter what— and it angers him more, angers him enough to leave marks and bites along the column of your throat, your whines weak and soft as you flinch at his harsh touch; your wrists bounce against his hands in protest as he bites down on your skin, tongue running on it soothingly before he moves on.

Frustratedly, he’s met with the cloth of your top; clumsily, he gathers your wrists in a single hand— they’re above your head now, slammed against the wood so hard that you feel the backs of your hands tingling ruthlessly. His other hand fumbles with his pockets, your mind so clouded that you’re barely able to keep your eyes open for a moment.

You grow still the moment the tip of a dagger is pressed to the underside of your chin.

“Admit to me,” he says, breathy and frustrated as the blade pokes into your skin threateningly, “admit to me that it was you, that you’re the one who cast this spell on me— that you have been haunting my dreams.”

Even now, you shake your head in denial. But the last thing Taehyun will do is believe you, his teeth gritting together as he slices down; your mouth falls open, eyes going glassy as he cuts cleanly through the top you wear, the blade poking at your stomach as he releases your hands for just a second— long enough to slide your garments off, the fabric pooling at your feet as you’re left bare before your king.

“Why do you still deny me,” he mutters, the knife gliding against your skin comfortably— against all the places he’s felt, a carbon copy of his dreams as he takes in every detail of you; it’s all too much for him, the heated nights he spent with you in his dreams resurfacing in his mind as his dagger tucks itself under your bra, his hand resting on your hip as your hands fall weakly onto his shoulders; he’s pressing into you firmly, the wood cool against your skin as your forehead touches his; you sigh shakily, fingers digging into his shoulders as you close your eyes.

A sharp tug has you jolting into him, the knife slashing through the garment before it’s falling to the ground, the cool air against your breasts making you shiver.

Taehyun feels dizzy as he takes you in; his hands attempt to memorize you, as though you would disappear into smoke if he’s not careful enough. Slowly, his hands glide up; they encase your breasts, eyes eagerly taking in your facial expressions as his fingers carefully play with your nipples— it’s odd, the way he can already feel his body telling him what to do, how to please you as your mouth is falling open, your hands clinging to his wrists as he pushes himself closer to you once more.

Carelessly, his right-hand reaches down to grab your leg; he hoists it onto his waist, roughly pressing into you as you’re pressed flat against the door. Your head falls back, able to feel the way his cock is pressing directly against your slit, a shaky moan escaping you the moment he begins to rut his hips again.

“God— so soft…” Taehyun finds himself saying, a broken gasp escaping him as he allows his hips to take control. Your breasts bounce temptingly before him, his mouth latching onto the sensitive skin as he finds himself eager to hear the very same sounds that always echoed in his mind. He’s insatiable, groans leaving him as he sucks and bites, pretty fangs sinking into your delicate skin and leaving marks that he would make sure would last an eternity.

None of his dreams compare to this; to the sound of you so close to his ear, a shaky hand threading itself in his hair as you finally give in to the temptation and pull him back up for a kiss; you’re a mess of spit and tongue as you beg him for more, the pleasure fogging your mind as you pull him in restlessly.

A fire licks through his veins, the frustration you put him through suddenly resurfacing as he steps back— yet his hand remains firm on your hip, letting go of your leg and pulling you forcefully, spinning you around until you’re colliding with the table. He doesn’t stop there, a firm hand pressing down on your chest as he’s forcing you to lean back— his gaze is predatory and dangerous as he looms over you, situating himself between your legs as he allows himself to hover over you, glaring at you with such spite that you’d almost think he was getting ready to kill you— except, his fluttering touches that wander around your body speak otherwise.

“Filthy thing, haunting my dreams then feigning innocence,” he seethes out, slipping off his robes and tossing them aside; he’s undressing before you, his cock straining against the material of his undergarment as he looks at you with nothing but rage. Even then, you have the audacity to have confusion swimming in your eyes, helpless to the way he slides you back towards him, your hips pressing together as he lets out a sharp hiss; the sound you let out is enough to distract him for a second, desperate to hear it from you more.

“I’ve done— nothing!” You say, a cry escaping you in between your sentence as Taehyun thrusts into you roughly. He only seems to be annoyed by your response, his dagger caressing up and down your thigh as he looks at you in a warning.

“You’re a fool, and you’re afraid to admit that I’ve done nothing wrong,” you pant, your head spinning at the way the dagger scratches against your skin, the pressure applied coming and going as he tilts his head at your words; there’s no curiosity in his gaze, only anticipation that you’ll be stupid enough to finish your thought.

“And you’re afraid to admit that you’ve fallen for the very person you swore you hated.”

The response is immediate; he’s slicing through the measly fabric of your underwear, the knife clattering on the table as his hand shoots up to you instead— he cups your jaw, fingers gripping it closed as you glare at him, daring him to do something reckless.

“You plague my dreams,” he seethes, gaze full of hatred as his cock begins to rub against your folds; he’s leaking and desperate, able to feel the way you’re soaking wet for him despite barely being touched.

“I thought of you every night. You visited me, didn’t you, you sly thing?” His tip is prodding at your entrance, teasing you by only slipping it in before he backs out, fangs sinking into his lip as he stares at you like a predator who just caught his next meal, “you wanted me to cave in and visit you, to bring all those fantasies to life.”

“You’re a pathetic, weak little thing.”

It’s inevitable for you to let out a laugh at that; his fingers only dig into your cheeks in response, his jaw clenching as he stares at you like you aren’t even worth his time. Yet here you are accused of a crime you never committed, pinned under the king as he looks at you with pure, unrivaled hatred.

Smiling, you take him in carefully; his eyes, blown open with lust and frustration, his body that keens and bends to seek your touch— he calls you pathetic, yet is unable to let go of you for a second.

“Your Highness,” you whimper out, a teary gaze and quivering lip greeting Taehyun as tears bubble up at your pretty eyes. He can only feel another hot wave of lust course through him, leaning in closer to hear your pathetic pleas.

“I don’t specialize in love spells.”

He pulls away like a man that’s been burned; he scowls, only to find that your legs have already locked him in, a whiny moan leaving your lips as you urge him to enter you.

“Your Highness,” you whine, shivering at the way he slowly enters you, your hand reaching up for his nape; you cling onto him, bringing him back down as you allow him to hover over you, shaky breaths intertwining with each other as he stretches you out perfectly. You feel so full, so good, velvet walls clenching around him like a vice as he lets out a shaky sigh, head bowing down and resting by your shoulder, his forearms barely able to hold him up as you let out sweet sounds just for him.

“Your Highness, I’m so honored you think of me so much,” you cry, enjoying the way he tenses against you. There you go again— unstoppable even in the most uncanny situations, your annoying quips igniting his rage as his will to put you in your place is strengthened; straightening, he grabs onto your hips, fingers digging in and massaging the soft flesh as his eyes grow cold. Scanning your body, he’s still able to take in the way you’re flushed and needy, hips attempting to move subtly to gain stimulation from him.

His left hand leaves a bruising grip on your skin; if you think you won, you’re dead wrong.

“Honored…” he mutters, the knife pointed back at your throat as he bottoms out in you; his hips are pressed firmly against yours, but you’ve gone stiff, unable to ignore the dangerous pressure applied to your skin. Tilting his head, he tuts, his other hand reaching for the ribbon of his discarded robes; before you know it, you’ve been tied up, unable to move your wrist as they’re tied tightly together— Taehyun smiles, the pretty ribbon tied in a neat bow against your skin. The dagger is back against your throat as his right-hand guides your wrists above your head, his eyes twinkling as he takes in your weakened state.

“Yes. You should be.”

You can’t help the way you flinch as Taehyun raises the knife threateningly; your eyes screw themselves shut tightly the moment he’s bringing it down, the velocity so intense your heart stops for a second.

The sound of impact from the dagger is heard throughout the whole room.

A shuddering sigh leaves you— it’s sunk deep into the table, uselessly looking up as Taehyun’s condescending laughter reaches your ears; you try looking up to see where the dagger may have been placed, but it’s no use. Shifting, you go to move your wrists back down.

Only you can’t move them at all— they’re stuck in place.

Your lips are left open in surprise as Taehyun begins to fuck you with wild abandon, the need to have you a mess under him plaguing his mind as his hands grip onto your hips fiercely. He’s rough, relentless, and cruel as you cry out, unable to ignore the fire that ignites in your stomach as he brutally thrusts into you.

Your eyes are fluttering shut as the feeling of your body rocking to his thrusts makes your head spin, your hands clenched in a tight fists as you bring your arms close together; your eyes open in alarm, meeting his gaze as your arms brush against the sharp blade of the dagger, scratching your skin as he grins at you teasingly.

Taehyun doesn’t know how to identify the torrents of emotions that course through him; you look better than any dream he’s been haunted by, your eyes softened and filled with lust, your curves and skin warm under his palms as your thighs ensnare him, luring closer as your cunt only pulls him in more; the sounds of skin on skin fill the room, his needy sounds mixing with your own as he watches the way your breasts bounce with each rough thrust, his tip kissing your cervix and your skin blossoming with marks he inflicted onto you from rage.

You’re here under him, bound and begging for more. You’re so soft, intoxicating, and frustrating as he finds himself unable to keep his hands off you, his mind wandering to the countless images and scenarios he can finally fulfill with you.

You’re so warm and tight; Taehyun has to slow his hips as he feels the way you begin to keen and cry, your hips bucking up as your gaze meets his— it’s demanding, entitled yet still innocent as you’re brought closer to your high.

But he won’t allow you— not as long as you continue to deny him, to deny the way you’ve been calling for him from the very start. There’s something else, and he knows it; his body is eerily attuned to yours, able to tell what you’re feeling and how to please you from the very moment his lips crashed against yours.

“These dreams,” he pants, gritting his teeth as his nails dig into the delicate skin of your hips, “what do they mean— what have you done to me?”

“I told you— I’ve done nothing—!” The whimper that escapes you is weak and defeated as his hand encases your throat, leaving you lightheaded as his hips begin to roll curiously; it’s instinct, and Taehyun doesn’t know how he does it, but he’s quickly able to find the spot that has your mind emptying, bound hands thrashing above your head as you cry for more.

“What dreams?” You manage to say, exasperated as his hips still, the feeling of his thick cock pulsing inside you driving you mad and making you lose yourself. You’re truly clueless as to what Taehyun speaks of, your eyes struggling to remain open as his hold on you remains.

“Dreams,” he begins, his hand leaving you as you gasp for air— his hand trails down, caressing the column of your throat before his fingers tease along your chest, along your stomach before he finally finds his place at your clit; his fingers as teasing and calloused as they rub meticulous circles along the bud, the pace and pressure eerily similar to that of your own, knowing better than anyone how to pleasure yourself on nights where you dare to let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t.

“Dreams of you. Here, under me, just as you are now— begging for me to touch,” his hips are moving again, your brows furrowing as you bite your lip desperately, “to please.”

Leaning down, his lips hover over yours, his gaze one of pure fire as he pulls you closer to him, arms wrapping around your waist as he presses you tightly against him; chest against chest, the slight tug he does to bring you closer making the fabric of the pretty ribbon rip slightly.

“Dreams where you beg me to ruin you.”

His words are filthy as his lips are planted firmly against yours; desperate and rough as he doesn’t adhere to your pleasure, his cock filling you so nicely as the feeling of his body pressing against yours like a fire that continues to pull you in.

A small yelp leaves you as Taehyun grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back as you’re forced to stare at the ceiling, his undeniably soft hair tickling your face as he proceeds to whisper things that make your blood run cold.

“You’re there, in my dreams as you beg for me to ravish you at any given moment,” he growls, unable to hold back the memory of it all as his frustrations pile up and tumble out through his tongue, “filthy little thing— in my gardens, the corridors, my bed.”

Your heart pounds at his confessions; your nails dig into the palm of your hands, the images jumping into your mind so vividly you’d almost think you lived through it all already.

“My throne,” he groans, biting at your neck as his hand wanders around your body.

“Begging me to touch you here,” his fingers ghost over the sensitive flesh of your breasts, “crying when I do this,” the sound that leaves you is inexplicable as he times a perfectly calculated thrust into your sweet spot, abusing the sensitive area as he watches the way you melt under him, just as expected as he finds himself scowling at you.

“Everything you begged me to do, I remember it perfectly,” he mutters, your eyes tearing up as you feel his fingers play relentlessly with your clit, “don’t you?”

You’re terrified of what this means; these dreams that have plagued you as well, a hidden and dirty secret you wished to hide more than anything. You remember it all, the way he pleased you like no other, able to read his emotions perfectly as you did the same; every day you were forced to live with the shame and denial of these occurrences, obligated to face him and pretend like you hadn’t been calling his name out desperately the night before— only, it seems he had done the same this entire time.

What could this mean? The possibilities swim through your head, yet you refuse to come to a conclusion as you feel the way Taehyun only grows rougher with you, still waiting for a response as he feels the way you grow needy and desperate for him.

It’s terrifying to see how attuned he is to you— because he’s quick to pull away just as you were about to be pushed over to the edge, left to be nothing but a sweaty and needy mess as you whine weakly for him to stop being cruel. You’re helpless, the slick feeling of your wetness spreading all through your inner thighs driving Taehyun insane as he watches the way you weakly struggle against your binds.

He’s doing no better than you— but he can control it, even as you clench tightly around him in futile attempts to bring him closer to the edge. Yet his voice is traitorous against him as he lets out a weak groan, unable to ignore the way his heart pounds harder at the sight of you, ruined before him.

“You know,” he breathes out, the realization dawning on him as he watches the way you refuse to meet his eyes. But in the end, you have no choice, your face grabbed as you’re turned roughly to look at Taehyun; his gaze is intense, as though he can read your thoughts as his eyes search yours, “Damn it, you know.”

“Tell me,” he says, desperate as you press your lips together firmly, your refusal to speak only angering him more as he sneers at you, “As your ruler, I command you to tell me.”

Shakily, your lips part— you’ve seen all this happen before, always feeling jealousy for others as you recounted every symptom, memorizing it all as you wished silently to have something like this for your own. But as you stare at Taehyun, angry and relentless as he waits for you to respond, you can’t help the way your stomach sinks with dread.

Taehyun is able to hear what you say without you having to form a single word— and it terrifies him, his body stiffening as he takes in what you tell him.

Soulmates.

It feels as though the fire in his heart has intensified; his body feels strange, heated and tingly as he stares at you, able to tell that you’re doing no better than him as you begin to breathe shakily.

Taehyun thinks this might be the worst outcome of all; despite his stubborn pride, his soul begs to get closer to you, begs him to move his hips and please you as you shift restlessly beneath him— even though he’s felt nothing but hate for you on the surface, deep inside he finds himself unable to resist you.

It infuriates him.

Stuck with you, he realizes, brows furrowing as he grips your hips tightly; he’s lost all control, allowing his soul and instinct take over as he watches the way you fall apart beneath him— it’s horrible, feeling the way his heart speeds at the way you desperately beg for more, attempting to cling to his facade he’s kept up for so long; these feelings he’s suppressed for so long, that he thought he was insane for having, were meant to be after all— he’ll never get rid of you.

“Fuck,” he stutters, gulping as his hands automatically go to keep you close, hips snapping ruthlessly into you as he finds himself addicted, your perfect sopping cunt bringing him back in and making him lose all control, “so… so good.”

It’s all falling apart; everything he worked so hard to keep up is tumbling down, out of his control as this new realization seems to tug his soul closer to you— he finds himself addicted, a curious thought nagging at him as he leans down to taste your swollen and bitten lips, the same that reminded him of the roses in his garden he so meticulously ordered others to care for.

He’s everywhere; his hands, his lips, his cock, so overwhelming in the best ways possible as you find your mind blanking out.

Soulmates, you think, eyes shutting tightly as he continues to fuck you into the table, rocking roughly as your arms become sore from their awkward position, soulmates… yes. You become more open to the thought, his touch suddenly intoxicating as it all becomes less than enough, the need to have him so impossibly close tugging at your mind.

“Say,” he starts, gulping roughly as he finds himself unable to concentrate, “Say my name. Call out for me.”

You’re in too deep; both of you are, breaching unknown territory as he hungrily waits for you to follow his commands. You’re unsure what to do, voice shaky and breathy as you finally muster the courage to call him by the only name you ever have.

“Your highness…” you breathe out, watching as he shakes his head in denial; he’s insistent, the sudden need to fulfill this very last memory that haunted him every waking second much stronger than before, his gaze piercing as he hovers over you, lips brushing against yours as he mutters quietly.

“My name.”

It’s instinct, your eyes meeting his as you feel your high approaching, intense and heavy like a wave as you arch your back, pressing firmly into him as your eyes shine with tears, as though you could melt into one soul if you tried hard enough.

“Taehyun.”

The name feels like an aphrodisiac on your lips; Taehyun must feel the same, for he finds himself crashing down at that, the sound of your sweet whine not comparable to the pathetic echoes that faintly haunted him during his waking days. He’s a shaky, shuddering mess as he allows himself to kiss you through it, continuing to fuck you even though he fills you with countless spurts of his hot cum. You groan, thighs shaking as you feel the way his pelvis rubs onto your clit, still managing to bring you to the edge as you clench around him tightly.

Your moans mix into each other, bodies pressed so tightly together that you don’t know where he ends and you begin; it’s strange, the way you feel so at peace even as he overstimulates you, hips rocking relentlessly with every broken moan of his name you let out.

You can’t get enough of it— it feels like candy in your mouth, the feeling of him smiling slyly against your lips alarming as the weight of everything begins to weigh down on you. It seems like hours before Taehyun finally straightens, watching as a ring of his cum has formed on his shaft, a weak groan escaping him as he takes in the way your inner thighs are painted with it prettily.

Slowly, his hungry gaze meets yours; then he remembers everything, jaw clenching as he wonders just how this all came to be.

He hates it, the way his heart calls to you despite the frustration that consumes him when he looks at you— he hates the way you make him feel weak; even now that you’re bound and left at his mercy, you don’t seem to realize the way you have him wrapped around his finger.

He gulps, the lump in his throat heavy as he watches your pretty eyes, all glossy and fucked out, much better than anything he could have dreamed of as he feels his cock twitching inside you once more.

Everything he ever feared came true— it seems you’ve become his fatal weakness.

His soulmate.

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despairots · 4 months

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uhmuhm! can i be smile anon!!

i have a silly request, you dont have to write if you aren't taking requests but like,, gojou with like some kind of makima vessel reader

like how they would get along and stuff ^_^

#BITE ME, g. satoru!

you weren’t known by gojo until you were introduced. surprisingly enough, he wasn’t the only one with charming eyes (and terrifying powers).

content warning: swearing, r! has makima’s abilities and eyes but they don’t necessarily look like her, gender neutral! reader, r! wears a white button up with a black tie, a black blazer hung around their shoulders, black dress pants and a bandage wrapped around their neck (honestly like 15! dazai), etc.

authors note: u absolutely can!!! <3 my requests arent open but i really liked this request :3 im sorry if this is bad or not exactly what u want but i tried :( and so sorry this is late!!

knowingly enough, gojo satoru was known to be charmed and blessed with eyes that most people swoon for ever since he was a child. not only blessed with charming eyes but finally born with both limitless and six eyes, the first one in 500 years.

because of that, he was spoiled rotten (how horrible!) but no one can deny that he didn’t deserve it. after all, after 500 years of the gojo clan producing, they finally got a kid who changed the balance of the world.

after he turned the rip age of 28, he noticed a person always wake by his classroom with a man beside them. the one thing that caught his attention, was the energy they gave off.

not once did he notice the eyes that pierced through his black blindfolds.

the first time he was formally introduced to them, was that one time where nobara was introduced to megumi and yuuji. he didn’t notice it as first but he realized you were the person walking pass his classroom all the time.

time for the friendship headcanons!

at first, gojo’s first impression of you, was how calm and collected your composure was with some joking antics here and there. you were mostly there just in case gojo wasn’t able to be there with them.

in general, gojo thought you were trying to compete with him because of how you came close to strongest sorcerer (selfish).

i don’t have a grasp understanding of how you two became friends, actually… i don’t think you would necessarily be friends, more like people who trust eachother, have eachothers back and holding respect for each but at the same time, you two don’t trust eachother.

it’s a weird friendship, though, sometimes you two got along, talking and joking around. the next thing you know, you two are ignoring eachother like you never even knew the other.

the concept of friends didn’t scream anything to you, friends didn’t come close to you with how you picture him. in shorter terms, you saw most people like pawns, a means to your plans. gojo was just there.

most of the times, he annoyed you a lot, you could see the way nanami didn’t want to step an inch to gojo (considering how he’s younger than gojo, yet looks older then him. how odd?).

despite everything you two go through as teachers and partners, there are no growth in your “friendship”, as both of your students call it. it’s not what you’re expecting but from the beginning, gojo has had an off feeling about you.

the first time gojo witnessed your technique, was during the shibuya arc; where he massacred a bunch of transfigured humans. you were there helping him, after all, what type of person would you be?

as i said, even though you’re not necessarily friends, you two still have eachothers back.

development!

when time passes, there was a feeling in your stomach whenever you would hang around with gojo, that shoko would explain to you as ‘fondness’.

he was starting to look more like a friend than just a pawn, a nauseous (that didn’t change actually). though, he doesn’t automatically get a pass because the two of you started to call eachother actually friends.

the trio saw the way you two were always with eachother, technically glued to eachothers side and always being there for the other.

gojo, still ever being hungover his ex, saw just a glimpse of him in you, that was partially the reason why he grew closer to you but at the same time, he grew worried that something might happen to you.

without a doubt, even though he’s a complete cocky, egotistical, idiot of a man, his one weakness is his big heart. that’s the first thing you noticed about him. it wasn’t his looks, his energy, or how he was the strongest, it was his big heart that he so desperately tried to hide away.

there’s development to both parties.

you, started to think of him like an actual friend, someone you cared about, and no doubt about it, someone you would sulk over if he ever disappeared.

gojo, who— praying to the lord— for once, will try to get over his ex when he’s with you, there’s something about you that makes everything that’s happening disappear, he needs comfort, you provide that to him.

relationship!

oh boy. why would you ever date him?

how did you even start dating him?

yet again, i don’t have a grasp understanding on how the dating started but i could give a brief explanation of how the feelings developed from there on.

the fondness you get from being around him developed into something where, if he ever got hurt or someone said something to him, you would go ballistic.

he’s someone you genuinely started to cherish and for someone to say or do anything to him would send you to a toxic state. it’ll have him a lot of time to convince you not to harm this person or curse.

eventually, the feelings than letter on developed into, again, what shoko would explain to you, as love. you had rejected the idea of love for ages because you thought you weren’t able to ever feel it. gojo proved that wrong.

gojo’s a nauseous to be around, but knowing him for quite some time made him into a pleasing nauseous. gojo started to pick up that your starting to enjoy bringing around him that he started to tease you about it.

you wouldn’t lie and say the teasing was annoying, it was but it wasn’t the same annoying as before.

when gojo started to fall for you, he quickly tried to bury it before it got out of hand. remember that breakup scene at the kfc? yeah… he doesn’t want that again. let alone fall in love again.

he already lost geto, he can’t lose you. everything he’s ever loved and didn’t want to lose, is lost the moment he gains it.

though, he’d drop signs, massive signs or just small signs, they’re there. even though of what i just said, he’s whipped for you. so down horrendous, my lord.

when you two do get in a relationship, gojo’s touch starved and it shows. he needs to have some sort of contact with you or he’ll sulk in a corner. for a matter of fact, if he doesn’t get atleast 5 kisses each day, he’ll ignore you out of spite until you do kiss him. that’s when he gives you a kiss attack.

i won’t go deep into the intimate details, you can dream about those yourself but i will say, he’s fucking crazy in there (and so are you!)

you’re absolutely spoiled by him, he loves you so why not just give you everything. regardless of that, he knows both of you don’t have enough time, so he tries to make it count by making you happy.

he loves the sparkle in your eye when he surprises you with gifts you adore.

the same goes for you, knowing he’s touch starved, you try and shower him in affection as much as you can before the two of you depart on missions that don’t involve you two partnering up.

knowingly enough, pda is a must in the relationship. though, gojo will stop if you don’t like it, he’s a dick but he’s a good dick (no pun intended).

even though, there’s not enough time and both of your lives are on the line since you’re jujutsu sorcerers, you’re both grateful you had enough time to confess.

oh, and gojo swoons over you, annoying megumi when you’re not there.

#⑴ kaz’s written works!#⑴ smiley anon!#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #fluff #angst #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader #gojo satoru x female reader #gojo satoru x male reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #csm #makima reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk gojo #jjk spoilers #jjk x reader

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lovearthur · 1 month

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How would Arthur react if fem reader is a witch/sorceress? I don't know if magic is possible in Red Dead Redemption.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=2dODceEwE0o&pp=ygUWeWVubmVmZXIgbW9kIHdpdGNoZXIgMw%3D%3D

𝒊'𝒍𝒍 𝒔𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 (𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! fem/afab reader . misunderstood reader . misunderstood arthur at first . tuberculosis talk . violence(?) aka gunshot talk . barely proofread

spunk - courageous and determined, confident etc

u were a witch. more specifically, a herbal witch. ur ancestors were witches too but they were massacred during the trials. if it wasn't for ur father before he passed away, god knows where u and ur mother would've been. but unfortunately, their teachings and knowledge could only go so far.. ur mother was sick, real sick. she had tuberculosis, one hell of a thing. u felt horrible, ur mother looked so... weak. u knew what was coming but u couldn't bare it. it always upset u more than you thought. she was always frail, fragile, even more soft-spoken than usual. u did everything u could to make sure she had a good remaining life.

u have some abilities. well, kinda. u knew how to help people with different herbs and herbal teas. it wasn't anything that unusual, u thought, but folk ain't too nice to u. in the near town of Emerald Ranch, they turned up their nose at u; thinking u were weird, strange, unusual. u thought u were just a normal young woman making her way through life. after making sure ur mother was all comfortable and well, u decided to take a trip away from home for more herbs and with that, u get onto ur hose and head off. nature was such a pretty sight. the flowers, plants, insects, animals... it was all so beautiful. u even saw a herd of deer, such innocent creatures they were. after a little while, u hitched off ur horse, took the lead began to walk to the edge of the river, sitting by a patch of different plants, picking off the ones u needed; ginseng, bay boylete, blackberry, burdock root, thyme...

"hey! ain't ya the witch?" a deep voice said, which had u stand up immediately and look to the direction of the sound. four men walked out into the open, giving u the time to study each other face and appearance. they looked rough, rugged even. this hasn't happened to u before. "i ain't no witch, gentlemen." u reply, a hint of sterness in ur tone. u weren't the type to back down from confrontation nor scared that easily. "that ain't what folk been tellin' us, missy." of course it's not, the folk in that town were mean, mean people. mean as they can get. they just didn't know u and didn't dare to. "though, yer quite easy on the eyes, little lady." another man said, which earned a low chuckle from the rest of them as they took few more steps toward u. ur stomach churned at the sight, this wasnt good. u trusted ur gut feeling and it told u this weren't right.. nowhere close.

this was a situation u didn't think u would ever be in.

swiftly, one man wrapped his arms around u, restricting the use for ur arms. that'll definitely leave bruises later on. and of course, u did ur best to get out of his tight grasp but that caused them to all laugh as u struggled. u were scared nonetheless u kept that feeling inside, not wanting to show that vulnerability. "let me go, ya fool!" u yelled, keeping ur tone stern and demanding. he turned to his friends with a chuckle "oh, this little lady has some spunk in her! i like that..." ur mind went wild, that wild and running miles per hour... u felt overwhelmed and a gust of strong electricity knocked them to their feet, away from u.

"goddamn it, she is a witch!" u heard one say and before u could do anything else suddenly two of them were shot down, seeing their sould leave their bodies. one mumbled a "shit." before he ran away, leaving the main there, alone. what the...? u didn't even do anything that time? "leave the woman alone, ye son of bitch." a deep authoritative tone was heard, slowly the mysterious man walked out, with a cattleman revolver in hand while he kept his aim fixated on the three men. to u, he seemed familiar. u couldn't put ur finger on it... he was tall, 6 foot tall at most, he was threatening too. he an growing beard since u noticed the small scar on his chin where the hair refused to grow. u kept ur distance from the men either way. "hey now, mister. we mean no harm t' the little lady... jus' bein' friendly." that was not being friendly, u and the man both knew it. a sudden shot was fired, hitting the man in his shoulder before his revolver shot back. one man down and the other survived...

after he holsters his revolver before turning to look down at u. "ye alright' there, young lady?" his tone was rough, deep. u looked up, studying his face for a moment, he was so familiar to u but u didnt realise why. he was likely older; in his middle thirties at least. "'m fine.. thank ya, mister." u finally replied. and then, u figure him out; ur eyes widen as u remembered, Arthur Morgan. u recognised him from the wanted: dead or alive posters. he was the threatening, ruthless man on the run, with a gang of outlaws. u backed off to ur horse slightly and once he realised it, he raised his hands up slightly in defence- his hand rough from years of work. "i mean no harm t'ya, miss. I know how it looks, but I ain't gonna hurt ya, promise ya that." u looked him up and down, arguing with ur own morals. he could be a dangerous but u couldn't argue exactly. folk thought u were dangerous too, maybe just as dangerous as any outlaw. his bleeding wound caught ur eye and u stepped towards him. "...yer hurt, look at yer shoulder, mister." u say, as ur inspecting his shoulder wound. u can fix him up, wounds were no match for ur special talents. "ah, its fine. dealt with worse." he says, dismissing his injuries like a small papercut but u weren't having it. "I'd like to help ya, 'm good at those things." u insisted, looking up at his blue-green eyes.

now u couldn't believe it. this was insane, u felt insane. u were back in ur home with ur mother in the other room. u were sitting on a chair, nearby with a table of little fabrics and a cup of herbal tea. u felt insane, bringing an injured wanted man into ur home... "dont mean to be rude but, what did ya do back there, Miss [name]?" he asked u, his voice rough but now he had a soft tone. u looked up from his shoulder, meeting his gaze. "what do ya mean, Arthur?" he took a moment, trying to figure out how to ask u out right. "back there, with the fellers... ya blew them off down right t'the ground." he continued in disbelief. he hasn't seen anything like it. he was confused, or he felt stupid, but he knew what he saw. now it was ur turn to take a moment, thinking of ur reply. what would u even say? "hey im a witch, but im not a bad person!" u felt so stupid ur gonna scare him off with whatever leaves ur pink lips anyway!

either way, u kept ur gaze to his wound as u spoke. "i ain't-... i ain't like most folk. i dunno, jus' not like that. 'm what ya would call.. a freak, a circus act. there is some things ya can't do that I can." u said, keeping ur tone calm as u began to clean his wound properly. he hissed slightly at the pain, u couldn't blame him. a gunshot wound was pretty painful. he processed ur words. he nodded at ur words, but he didn't seem to understand that well, but he had the spirits. "ya seem like a normal young lady, ya ain't no freak either. they're just fools. somethin' like that happens again 'nd I'll set 'em straight fer ya, okay?" u looked up at him, and ur heart skipped a beat. he was a nice man, a good man to u so far. "okay, Arthur... thank ya." and he nodded at ur words.

"anythin' fer a lady like ya." he replies while he adjusts himself in the wooden chair.

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #i love arthur morgan

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ideas-scattered-dreams · 1 year

Text

/ / Love at first Blade

Fandoms: Twisted wonderland AU: General Lilia + Rival Royal reader Character: lilia vanrouge

Imagine that... the war was sickening and unbearable to watch, children cried, adults screamed and yells of sorrow and apologies filled the air of the destroying kingdom. war happened because of one mistake, one mistake from the Ruler of this very kingdom. the mistake because of love.

You loved the General of the enemy troops. he was everything you could have imagined and many more.. he was sweet, he was kind, he was... perfect for you. you knew this was wrong to love the enemy like this. but u didn't care. your love for him beats everything that u have, even your kingdoms safety..

You both met in the battlefield once. in the intention of killing the other. but to fall inlove at first sight was never part of the plan of this intention. that is where u both started to meet frequently to chat and.. spent time with each other. even let your guard down with him. and spilled everything to the bottom of the grounds and wall u built around you. pathetic.

The day when the enemy attacked you knew how they went through the borders so easily, how they are now slaughtering the people and your troops so easily like butter on an knife. but you didn't do anything. you just sat on your throne while your kingdom is turning into a massacre.

The doors of the throne room opened and a single silhouette appeared. a silhouette u grew to remember and cherished.. Lilia vanrouge stood Infront of you a bloody sword in hand while his face was cold. you looked at him, your eyes showed love and adoration towards him. oh how you loved how he looks right now.

You stood up and smiled while descending down from the stairs of your throne. oh how u want to embrace him. you got close to him and hugged him tight, though he didn't do anything and merely stared at your figure. ha.. stab.

His sword pierced your stomach. blood dripped on the marble floor as u remained hugging him.

"i have always known u were using my love for you as an advantage. i knew all those yet.. never did anything. because I truly love you vanrouge. please tell me. tell me the truth and say u did love me back. even just a little bit." you shed a tear while the blood was dripping from your mouth. drip. drip.

You looked at up and saw he was crying. you weakly smile and reached out to hold his cheek, "my dear lilia"

lilia held you tight as your body began to grow cold, he cradled you in his arms while he shaked and wept. "I'm sorry (name), I'm so sorry... i truly did love you.." that was all you needed to know. that was all.

"in another era. in another life where we don't need to fight anymore, we don't need to taint hands, i wish. i promise. to marry you." you say so slowly as your heartbeat began to weaken and weaken.. and weaken.. until you went completely limp in his arms.

"of course.. i will definitely marry you (name). in another life time.." lilia continued to sob onto your chest as his cries echoed from the palace walls..

🌙━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━⭐

chatter among students in the mirror room were loud and bustling. some wanted to know what kind of dorm they will be assigned, some wanting to just go home, some just wants to end this quickly.

a small figure was on the sidelines, lilia vanrouge. smiling and chatting with a tall silver person. "I'm sure you'll be in diasomnia silver. your old man is there anyways fufufu" the silver head nodded, as a crow figure came Infront of the crowd and announced the ceremony to begin.

students began to be assigned a dorm, each and every one until one person was finally left. the figure walked infront of the mirror and stated their name. "( name ) (l/n)"..

silence. a drop of silence overcame lilia when he heard that name. has his hearing fallen weak? his ears must be playing tricks on him. it must be, or its just someone else that has the similar name AND last name as them. it has to be..

"DIASOMNIA!" Lilia snapped out of his trance as the mirror announced the last students dorm. the headmage announced to to the dorm leaders or vice to escort the new students to their designated dorms.

Lilia composed themselves and led the new students to the diasomnia dormitory. as he walked with the silver head student a blob of (h/c) walked pass them. the sudden burst of wind passed through infront of them as the hood of the (h/c) fell off revealing a familiar face.. a face that lilia wished to finally see and alive again.

"(name).." a voice so silent but hearable to the one calling out.

you turned to him with an expressionless face. "huh?"

lilia thought he was dreaming with this very moment. was this a dream..? or finally the moment he was waiting for.

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mediocre-daydreams · 1 year

Note

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐬𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲: send me a character and “opposites attract” duo (ex. grumpy x sunshine, loner x popular) for a blurb!

finnick odair (popular/shy) please! i think it'd be so sweet :)

ok so i just started typing and this emerged and i'm not sure how well this fits the request or if it makes sense but you've got me in my finnick feels and now i have this urge to write for him but bro i have so many WIPs how could u do this to me :(((((

finnick odair x reader // 1.2k

you have an odd relationship with finnick. are you acquaintances? begrudging friends? enemies just for the sake of having someone to squabble with? in any other situation, you’d want a definitive answer. but it’s the 75th hunger games, and in all honesty, you couldn’t give less of a damn about finnick odair.

you’ve only met him a few times, when the capitol invites all the victors for some frivolous celebration for anniversary of a glorified massacre. it’s horrible, you’re more than aware. but some part of you feels a little better that you get to see finnick, because as much as he is confusing and for reasons unbeknownst to you, he seems to have your back.

the parade is twice as busy this year but the capitol spectators seem thrice as enthusiastic. you silently thank your designer for prematurely accepting your death, because it means he didn’t bother to design something extravagant (by capitol standards) and embarrassing (by your standards).

“well, don’t you just look ravishing?” a male voice sounds near your ear and you feel a warm breath tickle the side of your face.

you fight the urge to grab the nearest sharp object and stab your opponent. you turn your head, slowly and intentionally, to the source of the noise and are unsurprised at who you find. “finnick?” it sounds more like a statement than a question.

“surprised to see me?” finnick grins, flashing you those teeth that must’ve been capitol-modified. they aren’t, of course. finnick hates everything capitol, and that’s the only reason you let him stick around. there are no other reasons.

“um, no.” you wish you could come up with a better, wittier, cleverer, flirtier response, but there’s something about the way he smells—luxurious and a little briny and so fresh it’s almost cold, but the heat from his bare chest says otherwise… “no, i’m not surprised. i saw your reaping.”

you cringed, remembering how he’d volunteered for annie and how defeated he’d looked on that stage, standing next to his old mentor and trying to avoid eye contact with his crying ex-lover. annie had never been the same after her games. perhaps you shouldn’t have brought that up.

“i’m flattered,” finnick grins at you again, pinching his lower lip between his teeth. he’s got one elbow on a table and even though his free arm hangs loosely by his side, you feel trapped where you are. or at least you’re in no rush to get away from him.

“okay, well… that’s good?” you mumble, not sure where he gets his endless chain of banter from but wishing you could have some.

“it’s good,” finnick repeats, shaking his head in amusement. he runs his hands through golden curls, meticulously styled and sprayed to look effortlessly tousled, and you’re sure his styling team is somewhere nearby wishing death upon you for being the reason their pretty boy has (god forbid) a strand of hair out of place.

finnick calling your name with that lovely voice of his snaps you out of a daze you hadn’t realized you were in. you blink, slightly caught off guard. “sorry, what was that?”

“i said, see something you like?” finnick’s grin is more smug now, almost feline. he looks like he’s about to pounce and ruin your life with those damn eyes. or, spear you with his trident in the quarter quell. neither seem particularly appealing.

“no!” you deny. “no- i mean, that’s not what i meant-” you stammer, eyes jumping everywhere but his polished chest. had his team rubbed him down in baby oil? he was glowing, all tan skin and smooth planes and well defined ridges and-

“no, you don’t like me? i’ve gotta say, i’m a little hurt,” finnick teases. “and here i thought we had something going on.”

“gah, i didn’t mean that! i’m not ogling you, is all. ‘course i like you, as long as you’re not going to kill me on the first day,” you manage to get out.

“hey, your words, not mine.” finnick shrugs, a smirk gracing his lips. “but just for the record, i am ogling you.”

your eyes narrow in confusion.

“i mean it,” finnick continues, swallowing, and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker away yours for a moment. almost like he’s nervous. “you look nice. you look really… pretty.”

it’s not a groundbreaking or particularly romantic statement, but it’s the most sincere you’ve ever seen finnick around someone who isn’t mags, and that means something to you. “i think you’re pretty too, finnick.”

his confidence returns. “y’know, i’m told that quite a bit. but it means a lot more coming from you, sweetheart.”

you purse your lips. “don’t get cocky, or i’ll take it back.”

“no take backs!” finnick sighs and licks his lips thoughtfully. you’re not sure if he’s trying to entice you on purpose, but either way, you’re enticed.

the conversation is lulling and it’s really finnick’s fault. you’re not much of a conversationalist. “uh,” you begin, not sure why you opened your mouth when you had nothing to say. “um, your horse is… well groomed. and- uh, your chariot- yeah.” you want to kill yourself. you’re going to die in a few days anyway, so you might as well die before you lose all your dignity to the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

finnick snorts, unattractively horse-like, and you’re only a little comforted to know he’s not as perfect as he seems. “well, i’m sure the gamemakers will be pleased to hear that the procession is up to your standards.” he turns away from you to pat the side of his horse’s face and you get a good look at his high cheekbones and impossibly sharp jawline. you hate this man.

the horse doesn’t seem to like finnick much. it flares its nostrils and finnick is forced to retreat, taking a step back and finding himself against a small table, useless and meant for decoration. atop it rests a bowl of sugar cubes, which are also useless and probably meant for decoration. you want to scoff at how dedicated the capitol is to performing false hospitality down to the last detail.

finnick turns to see what he bumped into and his eyes light up. he pinches a cube of sugar between his pointer finger and thumb and rolls it around, pretending to examine it. he returns his gaze to you. “some sugar for my sugar?”

you want to gag. finnick is so disgusting and you can’t imagine who would fall for his cheesy pick-up lines. not you, that’s for sure. “no thanks. i’m… allergic.”

“allergic to sugar? really?” finnick frowns, tossing the sugar cube in the air and catching it in his palm easily. “i’ve never met someone with a sugar allergy before.”

you shrug, caught up in your lie and grateful that finnick didn’t call you out on it. you didn’t know if you’d be able to survive the embarrassment of your verbal slip.

the sugar cube really is for show. he places it on the table with disinterest and curls his lip mischievously. “well, i suppose it doesn’t matter. you’re sweet enough to give me a cavity as it is.”

you can’t help yourself. “are you flirting with me?” your mind runs faster than your mouth, it seems, and now you’re pretty sure you’ve screwed up the chance to talk to this man ever again.

finnick looks at you oddly, raises his eyebrows, and purses his lips to hide what would probably be a stupidly smug smile. “no, with the horse.”

#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #1.5k celebration

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im-in-love-with-99-demons-again · 9 months

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Good morning/afternoon/night I was hoping if you can you do a Kurapika x fem reader, where reader's brother is Chrollo. (But Kurapika doesn't know that..yet)

Like Kurapika and reader have been dating but reader ended up picking up a job far from him for a while. (Up to the point where Kurapika now knows how Chrollo look).

......I don't think i'm wording this right.....like to the part where Kurapika is in the car with Chrollo and then out of no where Chrollo says something like

"Oh, so your the boy my dear sister is dating and you're the chain user..."....

.sorry this is a bit long and weird....feel free to change anything Oh and can you make the reader Pregnant (Also Kurapika doesn't know....or he could!?) SORRY this is getting a lot longer then what i wanted..Hope it's not to much😥

OH MY GOD😩 some drama! I love this! no worries i understood you<3 I hope you like what I wrote...

Part two is: Here

also I have a weird feeling that your @bruh-help7764 if you are then no wonder you wanted the reader pregnant...

if u aren't then i feel like you and @bruh-help7764 would get along so well 🤡

warnings: Angst, kinda no comfort.

I also had no idea what i was writing......i started this at 3 in the morning and fell asleep halfway.....and now it finished......kinda

"I guess this is goodbye, but not forever. ''

You say as you start to head to your plane as Kurapika waves at you back with a sad smile, he watches as your figure slowly starts to walk out and onto the plane.

You had landed a pretty good job that only hunters can get and it was your dream job but sadly it was far from Kurapika but you said you guys would meet up for holidays if work would allow you guys to take some days off.

As you got onto the plane and made your way to your seat you started to remember what happened the night before you left. Your hands were pinned above your head as Kurapika made soft hungry kisses on your neck and collarbone, kurapikas other hand grasped one of your boobs massaging and playing with it's bud as it harden under his fingers.

he would slide in and out of you with ease from how wet you had became, pounding in and out of you over and over, you moaned loudly as he let out soft groans and heavy panting with some quit soft whimpering as he released his warm seed deep into you.

You blushed remembering the sweet words he'd whispered to you as he made the rest of you body feel like heaven, you slowly started to rub your thighs together before being interrupted by a flight attendant asking if you'd like anything to drink or eat.

you said you were good for now and she left. you blushed a deeper red from embarrassment of what you had been thinking in a public place..

A week has passed since you had moved away from Kurapika and you've been feeling weird but nothing to worry about...right? You tried to text Kurapika but he's being very trash at answering his phone.

but there has been one person who has been answering you a bit more....and that is your brother..Chrollo.

He was all you had as family..well counted as family.your brother never really talked about his work to you since you decided you didn't want in on the phantom troupe, you were once in but you had gotten out after almost dying.

your spider tattoo long removed and tried to move past that past but once you found out that Kurapika was hunting down every spider because they massacred his family you were heartbroken and mostly because he wanted to kill the head and everyone that was apart of the massacre of his clan....and you had a bigger secret other than the fact you were related to Chrollo was that....it was you that was assigned to kill a little boy almost the same age as you,

he had brown hair and a red and white (idk what it’s called what they wear) and beautiful scarlet eyes.

yes you were young but your nen was strong even your brother wanted to steal it. as you stabbed the boy and gouged out his eyes you heard him whisper something.

"K-...Kura..pika....i'm..sorry"

you didn't know who he was talking about but it made you feel a bit sad for him.

You later on found out who Kurapika was....at the hunter exam. you hid your true last name and your past and everyone believed it, you would have never thought that you'd fall in love with Kurapika nor did you ever expect for him to actually date you....everything is going good...but one day....Kurapika would find out the truth.

Beep....beep....beep. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked down at your phone to see you totally ignore your older brother, he asked if you made any friends at the hunter exam you quickly replied

Y/n: You're hella late for that message

Chrolla: I was busy with work..I'm sorry I didn't ask sooner.

Y/n: it's fine, but yeah i made a bit and I have a boyfriend too!

you quickly sent a picture of you, Gon, Killua, Leorio and Kurapika and than another pic of just you and kurapika, you didn't think much of the pictures until you realized what you just did...kurapika and your brother are like enemies...but they don't know how each other look...right!? well you tried to delete it but your brother has already seen the pictures...the damage has been done.

Chrollo: Oh i see..so the blonde one is your boyfriend?...interesting, well i'm truly happy you found someone, it would be wonderful if i could meet him

Y/n: Yeah..that'd be great (You forced down your anxiety as you continued to type) I miss you

Chrollo: Likewise

You put your phone down and mentally slapped yourself "I'm such an idiot"

Another week has gone by and Kurapika finally texted saying he won't be able to text because he got a big lead on the phantom troupe 😮‍💨 wow you really started to rethink about dating him.

(Kurapika ignore everyone man, poor Leorio being left on not seen)

but you had other things to worry about, you had been throwing up and feeling just like shit, you missed your period but you didn't think much of it (In case urs is like everywhere like mine lol)

you felt horrible this week and even called work which was full of you just vomiting in the bathroom...let's just say that's all they need to hear before hanging up on you saying you can stay home today. you ended up searching your symptoms up and your face ran cold, you can't possibly be pregnant....right?! you got up and decided to go to the store to get some pregnancy tests, running home after. Once you got home you did the tests and now the worst part...waiting.

(Kurapika's side now) (Also i forgot how dis ep went..)

"We'll be fine,...a number of the enemy were injured, so they'll stay put until backup arrives" Kurapika says to Leorio before turning to Chrollo next to him in the car.

"What are you looking at?" Kurapika says with a hint of sass

"Nothing" Chrollo says as he looks away continuing "I just didn't expect the chain user to be a woman"

"Who said I was"

Kurapika says as he takes off his wig

"I thought you knew better than to trust appearances, regardless you should watch what you say, since it may will be the last thing out of your mouth"

Chrollo's eyes widen for a second as he sees kurapika but only for a second before going back to normal.

"You aren't going to kill me, not after you left your precious friends behind and...Y/n...you wouldn't kill her brother....would you"

Kurapika got mad as he spoke without much thought of what Chrollo had just said.

"I may appear calm and-wait what did you just say? ''

Chrollo just smiled as turned out of the window.

"So she hasn't told you about me....figured,...she told me about you....but she surely didn't tell me you're the chain user"

"Don't talk about Y/n like you know her!" Kurapika tightened the chains around Chrollo as his voice got louder. Leorio tried to tell Kurapika to calm down but to be honest everyone was shocked, you couldn't be related to...to the leader of the phantom troupe. Kurapika was angry, he couldn't believe that....but...he also couldn't bring himself to fully believe that it was a lie either...

"But I do know her....why wouldn't I know my very own sister..if you don't believe me, you can look through my phone."

Kurapika told him to shut up and wrapped his mouth with chains as he grabbed Chrollo's phone and his heart sank....he found your name in his contacts and pictures that you sent of you and him and the rest of the other....he gripped the phone hard,

Leorio tried to comfort Kurapika to make him think of the mission and that's what made Kurapika come back to his sense. but the lingering thought of you related to this monster wouldn't get out of his head...were you a part of the murder of his clan? No you wouldn't be....you don't even have the tattoo....you also are not your brother...his crimes have nothing to do with you...you are someone else....not that monster....

(Back to Y/n View)

you came back to the bathroom to see if they were positive or not...as you grab the first one you take a deep breath before turning it around to see two red lines and not faint ones either, they were pretty deep color, you nervously chuckled to yourself as you grabbed the other one only to see the same results. You were happy but....would Kurapika even want kids right now?!

you guys were still very young and he had a mission and having a child right now wouldn't be the best...you grabbed your phone and went straight to your brother's number, you decided to text him but stopped.....shouldn't Kurapika know first? maybe you should go over there and visit him,

but the only day you could probably see him is in 3 weeks

After 3 weeks pass you get on the flight back to yorknew city. Once you arrived you were not greeted by him but instead with melody and Leorio, they both seemed to have sad and stern faces, you were confused on why. As you came closer to them, Leorio looked away from your gaze

. "Is it true?..."

"Huh? Is what true?"

You said but Leorio just shook his head before walking away telling Melody that he'll wait inside the car.

"What's with him?"

You questioned Melody, she just looked down and said

"I think...it's better you talk to Kurapika...."

you were confused why they were acting so weird and you were also kinda worried for kurapika...did something happen to him?!

you followed Melody outside and into the car Leorio was waiting inside. He started to drive and the entire ride there it was filled with an awkward tension,

once the car stopped at yours and Kurapika's place you stepped out of the car and Melody just nods at you before leaving with Leorio you walked up to the right door before pulling out your keys to open the door but it wasn't..locked..strange. you walked in and set your stuff near the ground as you took your shoes off and walked farther into the house/apartment.

"Kurapika?..love?"

You said as you walked to your shared room, slowly opening the door you can see Kurapika sitting on the edge of the other side of the bed with his back to you and his head hanging low (Btw it's night and the room it dark) you walk closer before you stop in your tracks with the simple 5 words he said.

"Do..you have a brother...."

"I...I..do...why?"

Kurapika slowly turns his head to you and you can see his scarlet eyes shine bright through his hair, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he glares at you. Your heart stopped and your blood ran cold...did he..find out...no he couldn't have....

"And...is he...the leader of the Phantom troupe?...."

you looked down at the envelop you had in your hand. the envelop was pictures of the pregnancy test and a small letter saying that he was going to be a father....but now..you don't know if you should even keep this baby growing inside of you....you killed Kurapika's best friend and was apart of the spiders and now...you're caring his child ....

"I'm....sorry....." You say as tears start to well up in your eyes and fall, the tears in his eyes fall like a river that was being forced back for so long.

"No..why...why..." Kurapika cried out quietly, covering his face with his hands, his head still handing down

"Kurapika..i'm-"

"Just...G-...Get out!"

he lifted his head and ran a hand threw his hair as tears kept falling, his eyes narrowed to you. You placed the envelop next to him on the bed before leaving. You didn't want to cause him more pain...but you felt that he should know you're carrying his child...you were going to keep his child because it'd feel like killing another part of his clan if you got rid of it......

Once you left Kurapika felt even worse, why didn't you tell him sooner? why didn't you tell him before he....feel in love with you. Kurapika looked down at the envelop before getting up and leaving the house/apartment to go back to work....well surely there'll be work to do at this hour?.....right?

I Think i might make a part two to this where Kurapika reads the envelop after a while of just avoiding it.......also i had a total brain fart writing this....i didn't know what to do ....

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spnandtvdudeservedbetter · 11 months

Text

Forever, Darling

Kol Mikaelson x reader: Kol has to go out with Y/N to kill some enemies, while Kol is fighting off a rather persistent vampire, Y/n gets bitten by another. Disaster ensues as he realizes she won’t wake up after being healed.....

Reblog if u like this

The Mikaelsons had heard news of the witches and vampires of New Orleans conspiring against them, Y/N and Kol are told to deliver a message to their enemies. They make their way to the cemetery where they find a particularly angry group of vampires with no witches in sight.

One vampire steps up to Kol, thus beginning the massacre.

Kol was fighting off one of the vampires, I had two of them on me at once, I pushed one to the ground, the other sneaking behind me to put me in a chokehold. I threw myself to my knees, launching the fanged fiend to fall over my back and onto the ground.

As I stood back up, looking at Kol, who was currently pulling vampires' hearts out of their chests, I felt a hand grab my neck and lift me, speeding straight to the cement wall behind me. Prying his hand from my neck, I threw my head forward into his jaw, he responded by pulling my hair away and revealing his inherently visceral fangs before biting into my exposed flesh. “Kol!” I shake, attempting to pull myself from the vampire’s grip, soon enough my vision becomes cloudy, my body is thrown to the ground once more as blood begins to fill my throat, choking me.

“Y/N!” Kol drops beside me, gently picking my head up and laying it in his lap, “I’m going to take care of you, okay? Everything’s going to be okay.” he says, bringing his wrist to his mouth, biting it and feeding me his blood. I watch as Kol’s eyes widen in panic when the blood doesn’t heal me, He sits me up lifting my body from the ground and speeding back to the compound.

“Freya! I need you!” Kol demands, walking into the compound, y/n unconscious in his arms.

“What happened, brother?” She says, gesturing for Kol to lay Y/n down on the nearby couch inside the ballroom.Freya kneels by Y/N’s side, placing her hand on my forehead, she inhales sharply before seeing flashes of light in her mind’s eye, Y/n’s screams echoing in the distance, a witch by the name of Eva Sinclair holding onto her chanting some spirit binding spell.

Freya gasps, before opening her eyes again,

“ What is it? Why isn’t she waking up?” Elijah asks, from the doorway.

“Eva. She’s attempting to bind her spirit to Y/n.” Freya explains.

“ She can’t do that, it’s impossible.” Kol stutters, grasping Y/n’s hand.

“ It’s actually quite possible brother, the only way to stop it is if we turn her.”

“No, we can’t do that to her.” Elijah protested

“I’m not going to lose the girl that I love because of the petty witches of the French Quarter, brother.”Kol kneels next to Y/n, he grabs her head with both of his hands, leaning forward he kisses her forehead, a tear escaping his eye, “ Please come back to me, I love you.” he whispers before snapping her neck.He sobs at the sound of it, hoping, praying that he will see her eyes again. The rest of the Mikaelson siblings leave, only to give Y/n and Kol some form of privacy.

He sits there for hours, consistently checking her pulse, trying to hear her breathing, there is nothing, just silent and still death, he begins to lose hope, looking at her from his place on the opposite couch.

Elijah walks in, “ She- she should’ve woken up by now.” Kol stutters, tears beginning to well up in his eyes as he looks at his older brother.

“ I am sorry, brother.” Elijah sighs walking over to Kol.

Y/N gasps, sitting up and looking around in a panic, Elijah nods before speeding away.

“Kol? How did we get back? How am I alive?”

“ You were bleeding out after I gave you my blood, Freya searched your mind and saw that you were in the process of being bound spiritually to Eva Sinclair, the only way to stop it was to turn you.”

“ You turned me, so I’m in transition.”

“Yes, I need you to feed, I can’t lose you again”

“ Okay, go get me a blood bag then, because I am not feeding directly from a human.”

Kol stands up, speeding to the kitchen and grabbing Y/N two blood bags from the fridge.He’s back before she even notices, he hands her the bag. She takes it with shaking hands.

“It’s gonna be okay. I promise, I’m right here” Kol reassures her.

She rips the cap off of the blood bag, before sipping the red liquid down, she gagged at first but immediately she couldn't get enough of its taste. As she drank the blood her face transformed, she could feel her fangs growing, the euphoric feeling spreading throughout her body.

Looking up once more, she notices Kol looking at her with hope in his eyes, “ What?” she muttered.

“Nothing darling. I just can’t wait to spend the rest of eternity kicking ass together.” he smirked.

Y/n chuckles, before looking down at her hands, her face dropping,“ why didn’t you let me go?”

His smirk fades, he looks down, “ Because- I- I love you.”

There's a long pause before Y/N speaks again, “I love you too.”

He takes the empty blood bag beside her and puts it on the coffee table in front of them, he sits next to her, before grabbing her hands, “I promise that I will help you through this.”

“I know, thank you for saving my life.” She says leaning onto his shoulder. He wraps his arm around her before giving her a kiss on her temple, he sighs in relief that she made it through the catastrophic events of their day.

#kol mikaelson imagine #kol mikaelson x reader #felt guilty not writing recently so heres an old fic #kol mikealson x reader #the originals #the vampire diaries #Jess's works #jess' works #jess talks #take it or leave it.

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nonclassyparty · 5 months

Text

friday, 01:56 (j.wy)

title; now shut your dirty mouth, if I could burn this town, i wouldn't hesitate to smile while you suffocate and die

summary; wooyoung is your sworn enemy but hooking up with him becomes a habit you just can't seem to quit (gen v au)

notes; part one of a drabble series called 'rule of thumb' set in the gen v universe where y/n is a bigender superhero and wooyoung is a blood bender (yea it's jordan & marie inspired but hear me out because there's less gore and massacres and more fucking and fluff okay). all credits for the superpowers and world building go to gen v writers, i'm just here to give some cute wooyoung drabbles also there's no update schedule for this, i'll just be writing it whenever i feel like i want to write some wooyo stuff

playlist // my main masterlist // click to donate to palestine

you met jung wooyoung a year and some months ago and from the first second your eyes connected - you knew peace will never be an option with him.

"cool shirt, you steal it from a middle schooler? why'd you guys bring a freshman over, we aren't tutoring anyone during lunch." was the first thing jung wooyoung uttered towards you, skipping the introduction completely as he eyes your scooby-doo shirt with apparent distaste and he plops down in the seat next to seonghwa who nervously twitches as he watches for your reaction. maybe seonghwa expected you to jump over the table and wring jung wooyoung's pretty neck.

you have no idea where he got the idea you could ever do something like that.

anyways, was the scooby-doo shirt embarrassing and a little bit ugly? yes. did you have a right to wear it nonetheless without being judged for it? fuck yes.

so fuck jung wooyoung, it's not like he dressed any better no matter how good he looked in just about anything. he didn't have any fashion sense whatsoever, he was just handsome - there was a difference.

if it ended there with jung wooyoung, you would've gotten over the little fashion quip and maybe, dare you say, you could've been friends. you would've liked that even.

you hate to say this and you would never admit it to anyone but before you got to know jung wooyoung, before you even started your freshman year at godolkin university that, you were an admirer.

because jung wooyoung, just a year older than you, was somewhat of a legend already on the god u campus by the time you were a freshman. a star student at the school of crimefighting that cleared several homicide cases in his first year and was climbing the ranks at super speed and reaching the top ten by winter break of his first year.

he was smart, dedicated, driven but more importantly, he was insufferable about it. always teasing you, poking fun at you for just the pleasure of getting a rise out of you. it might not even be considered that bad if you didn't allow for him to piss you off with the most innocent of comments.

you don't know how you ended up in his circle in your first year at godolkin, you were a bit of a hermit that avoided socializing and spent the better half of your freshman year training and discovering just how far your powers went for the first time.

by the time you felt comfortable with shifting into your male form and started getting the hang of controlling the powers that came with that form, you caught the attention of hongjoong and seonghwa who decided to, what they call, adopt you into their equally unhinged yet somehow popular clique. occupying the first eight spots of the rankings with san being first and wooyoung a close second, they were the campus elite.

the guys were cool, maybe a bit shallow sometimes, but that was to be expected when you go to college under a huge spotlight like they do. it's all-consuming.

they were your friends. the only problem was jung wooyoung.

on paper, there isn't a reason you two shouldn't get along. you have the same friends and share so many interests that it's kind of laughable but something about wooyoung just grates your nerves. his ability to get under your skin is astounding and he can infuriate you with nothing more than a single know-it-all grin.

tonight is no different.

in the club, that you snuck off of campus for, yunho serves as a barrier between the two of you but it doesn't stop wooyoung's teasing comments and pokes even when you're on the dance floor.

what's worse is that you start indulging him and, you'll blame it on the alcohol and plethora of drugs although you've learnt a long time ago they barely have any effect on your body thanks to the concoction cursing through your bloodstream since you were a baby, your hands keep straying towards him, drawn like magnets. it's infuriating. how much you want him.

a couple of fleeting moments later where your fingers brush subtly enough for it to be deemed as accidental, one moment between another and yunho is suddenly gone and wooyoung's hands reach out to be placed on your hips, the pretenses are gone.

you're both chest to chest, breaths mingling and noses brushing but still, you can't do it. not here, under these awful lights with all these people watching.

you push him away with your hands on his chest and for a second wooyoung looks worried before it melts into an annoying smirk after you grab him by the hand and start dragging him towards the bathrooms.

you think it got a bit too real for you out there on the dance floor, because the moment you're alone in the semi-clean looking bathroom of the club, you decide to start an argument with him. if nothing but to bring a sense of normalcy back between the two of you.

"what the fuck is your problem with me?" you hiss, blood rushing to your cheeks as wooyoung's eyebrows jump in faint surprise before you see him suppress a smile.

"my problem with you?" he asks, head tilted to the side and looking at you as if he knows what's going on in your head, like he knows that you're only starting a fight to deflect from whatever the hell that was on the dance floor and why you dragged him in here. which he doesn't, mind reading isn't in his superpower description, you checked! he smiles and it's a pretty smile, pretty fucking annoying. "i don't have a problem with you."

you frown, "wooyoung, stop messing around with me. i'll kill you."

he has the balls to laugh at that and it's only then you realize why. you didn't even notice that you basically have him pressed up against the sink. so close to putting your hands on him again. wooyoung leans in;

"look at you. you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look fucking stupid." he whispers, hooded eyes grazing over your face before the corners of his mouth perk up again and he licks his lower lip, tongue just barely brushing the devastating beauty mark residing there, "you’re probably saying you wanna kill me just so you can have an excuse to touch me."

you feel like you can breathe for the first time in too long when you kiss him, your hand wrapped around the nape of his neck to pull him closer. it's messy and rushed but it's exactly what you need to feel like your entire nervous system is set alight, as the tension between the two of you finally snaps.

the small moan that escapes him has the ability to drive you insane and you cradle his face with both hands, licking at his bottom lip until he lets out a whine before parting his mouth open and allowing your tongues to meet.

you hate this. hate the thrill of pleasure that shoots through you when wooyoung's fingers dig into the material of the jeans wrapped around your hips. hate that you have absolutely no excuse to be kissing him in a dingy bathroom of a nightclub. absolutely hate how much you further want him.

his soft gasp makes you part away from him as you look down at his face that's sporting wide eyes and parted glossy lips.

you're confused for only a moment until you notice the problem. you're looking down at him.

your eyes connect with your reflection in the mirror over wooyoung's shoulder and you blush in mortification when you come face to face with your male form that you unconsciously shifted to somewhere in the middle of the kiss.

with red cheeks, you look at wooyoung again as your hands immediately leave his cheeks and you turn to take a step back not wanting to make him further uncomfortable, "i'm sorry, i di-"

wooyoung doesn't even say a word, it's just a sound that leaves his throat aching to a whine as his fingers latch onto your shirt and pull you back into him, sealing his lips over yours into another messy kiss that makes your blood sing. you don't know if it has something to do with the fact that wooyoung is a blood bender or that he doesn't mind kissing you like this either.

it's exhilarating. too much and definitely not enough at the same time. you want to see jung wooyoung unravel in front of you. because he's been pissing you off all night and now, you just want him to shut him up and kiss the life out of him.

you clumsily fumble with the button on his jeans, slipping a hand inside to palm him over his underwear. wooyoung moans softly, forehead leaning against your own and his hand comes up to the back of your neck before he pulls you into another kiss.

"please." he rasps out, parted lips brushing over your cheek and that's all the confirmation you need before dropping to your knees.

wooyoung rushes to shove his clothes out of the way and if you weren't so turned on, you would've found it funny. you don't laugh because you're straining against your own jeans and you have a task to get to as you stare right into wooyoung's eyes and open your mouth, waiting.

so, you let jung wooyoung fuck your mouth. you let him grab you by the back of your head, fingers weaving through your short hair. you let him rub the tip against your lips, you let him tell you that he likes you a lot better when you're too busy sucking him off to run your mouth.

of course, you respond that it's not a smart idea to be an annoying piece of shit to someone while their teeth are so close to his dick. it shuts him up immediately.

but it's all worth it because wooyoung's honey skin looks flawless even under the shitty lights of the bathroom and his moans bouncing off the walls are ridiculously sweet just like you knew they would be. god, you must be some kind of masochist.

there is no other reason that would explain why you're here with jung fucking wooyoung of all people. it's bad enough that he's wooyoung, the most annoying person on planet earth that has spent the last year doing nothing but teasing you but it's still worse that he's straight.

you can defend yourself however you like but even you have to admit that no normal, well-adjusted person that has spent their teenage years agonizing over their gender identity and suppressing their own powers because the implications that they're also a boy and not just a girl felt awfully too big and something their parents could never be proud of, finally coming to terms with their powers and accepting themselves for what they are - only to go out and make their first hook-up post that revelation, a straight boy that made it a mission to piss them off daily.

"you're so sweet actually." wooyoung pants, thumb gliding under your eye to wipe the tears away.

you wish he'd stop talking.

you wish you weren't enjoying this so much.

wooyoung's head thuds against the mirror hanging above the sink he's currently leaning on and his hand tightens in your hair, so you know he's close. you double down on your efforts, swirling your tongue around the head and hollowing out your cheeks. your eyes fall shut as all you hear are wooyoung's soft grunts and the wet sounds of him fucking your mouth before he's coming with a low groan into your open mouth.

"fuck." wooyoung sighs, hands slipping from your hair and falling to grip the sink.

your knees ache as the hard tiled floor was unforgiving to them but you still stand up and quickly walk into one of the stalls to spit into the toilet and wipe at your eyes as subtly as you can, so you don't actually look like you just had your face fucked.

"yeah." you nod, voice hoarse as you tug on your oversized shirt. it's sort of crazy that you think you hate wooyoung a little less than you did twenty minutes ago. you hope it lasts long enough to get out of here without wanting to rip his head from his shoulders.

unfortunately, wooyoung is still....wooyoung and the five seconds you give him with your back turned towards him as you fix yourself up is enough for him to shatter any blissful fantasy of not feeling anything but hate and dislike towards him.

"i can still be straight even if i liked you sucking me off, right? since you're not...you know...." you're frozen and it feels like you're watching a car crash. you faintly wonder how can someone so brilliant, so smart, be so fucking stupid and insensitive at the same time.

you want to interrupt him but you're stuck in one place bound to watch the crash and burn. of course, after you stay quiet, wooyoung continues;

"you know, you're you."

"that's an astounding observation wooyoung, truly. i'm me."

"you know what i mean."

the tissue you used to wipe off the last bits of your make-up gets balled up in your hand and you refuse to look at him as you shift back to your female form so the boner in your pants wouldn't be visible.

"frankly, i don't give a fuck how you choose to label yourself but i think it's worth noting that you liked having someone who you know wasn't a girl suck your dick."

you don't look at him again, swearing that you were completely done with him after tonight as you push past him and head for the exit door.

the resolve lasts for almost as long as wooyoung did with his dick down your throat, which if you are being honest - wasn't very long.

#wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #ateez angst #wooyoung imagine #wooyoung smut

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