#alice in borderland imagine

[airbendertendou]

SOMETHING SOMBER TO MiSS! ♥︎ chishiya shuntaro

synopsis : three years after breaking up, your ex-boyfriend seems appalled by how you've changed, and the new company you keep.

recomended songs — exes, tate mccrae ; bibi vengance, bibi ; diablo, lexie liu ; 505, arctic monkeys

cw ; typical aib death nd gore ; reader is a physical fighter nd i wont apologize abt it ; the militants themselves lmao ; oblivious reader who holds everyones attention <3

TAGLIST : @chaotickyrith @valleyofheartz

♧ ♡ if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked. ♢ ♤

— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —

Oil fries in the pan as you flip the meat you're cooking, the side dishes already prepared and ready to eat. You hum with a nod, satisfied with the spread you've cooked — happy the recipes you read came in handy and turned out well.

The front door slides open and a smile falls onto your lips unconciously. You don't turn from the stove as you speak, "welcome home, Shuntaro!"

He grunts in response, kicking his shoes off and throwing his work bag to the side. Sliding up beside you, Chishiya eyes the food you cooked curiously, nodding his head the way you did earlier. You grin, "hard day? Did they let you work with patients today?"

"Still a student, technically," he responds. Chishiya grabs the cutlery you need, filling one cup with your drink and the other with his own. He grabs one of the dishes, absentmindedly setting it on the table. "Proabaly won't be around people for a while still."

You frown, following behind him. "That sucks. You're the smartest person in that building."

The left side of his lips quirk up, "thank you."

Hitting his arm lightly, you can't fight your own grin. "As if I needed to inflate your ego anymore."

The only sound is your eating — conversation with Chishiya never felt needed. You often found comfort in his silence ; found it easy to be in his presence. When your food is finished and you're washing the dishes, you notice him lingering in the doorway. You let him take his time — sometimes, your boyfriend simply needed a moment or two before his thoughts could escape his head.

But, he never spoke up. Chishiya simply stood there, staring at you and through you simultaneously. You blinked at him, hands still soapy, "everything okay, 'taro?"

“Let’s break up.”

You pause, a wobbly smile masking the strain in your throat. You face him fully, “what?”

“Let’s break up.” He doesn't meet your eyes as he speaks. He looks over your shoulder — looks to the pictures of you together throughout the two years you'd been dating.

“…why?” You wipe your hands dry, hoping to hide how they tremble. Chishiya eyes them through furrowed eyes — he noticed. You hide them helplessly anyways.

He shrugs passively, “I’m bored.”

“And nothing I say will change your mind?” It's now that he meets your gaze. It's dark — empty as he looks at you. Ice crawls into your chest, settling there as your breathing begins to get heavy. You nod slowly and look to the floor. “Okay. Let’s break up, Chishiya.”

You hope the sound of his last name burns him as much as it did you.

— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —

Music hits the pool area as you walk out, nodding to the beat you hear. Grinning at those you're familiar with, you perk up at your chosen group. The ones who brought you in when you were lonely.

"Ni—ra—gi!" you sing as you approach him. Sat on his lap is a girl with her bikini top slipping down slowly. Her lipstick is smeared and her cheeks flushed as her eyes widen at your voice. "Oh, am I interrupting?"

Niragi glares — he's really just hiding his laughter, "you always do. What do you want?"

You hum slyly, going behind the girl to settle her bathing suit correctly. Her breathing picks up and her hips twitch at your touch — Niragi hides his snort. "Have some newbies Hatter is welcoming. Wanna check 'em out?" You bend so that you're eye to eye with the stranger, "or keep having fun instead?"

With a squeak, the girl practically launches from Niragi's hold and skitters away. You blink owlishly, "was it something I said?"

Niragi's loud, boisterous laughter leaves a trail as you sneak into the secret meeting. Aguni eyes you before rolling his eyes discreelty and tuning back into what Hatter is saying. It's the same spiel you were given — this was a free paradise that only called for your loyalty. Loyalty being the cards you earned every game, of course.

If someone was going home, it was going to be Hatter first and foremost.

You eye the trio standing in the middle of the room, watching as the shorter male fidgets. He glances around — meets your gaze and gulps. He mutters to the girl he’s with, tugging on the end of his shirt.

Grinning, you lean close to Niragi and lower your voice to a whisper. “Traitor.”

“Them?” He raises an eyebrow, incredulous. “You really think?”

You put your hand out, “wanna bet?” Niragi clicks his tongue as you wiggle your fingers, insisting he shakes your hand. “Hm?”

He shoves your hand away, “never making a bet with you. Not again.”

As the meeting concludes, you grin widely.

Your name is called as Hatter beckons you forward. He leans on the desk in front of his card display, grinning as his top men join him. He gestures grandly, his arms open wide. "Liking your promotion?"

It's a silent nod to the gun strapped to your thigh — to the absence of a bathing suit. Aguni crosses his arms lightly, sticking his chin out. You grin — recently, it's starting to look more and more like Niragi's teasing smile than anything like yours. "It's fun enough."

Hatter laughs loudly at your words. He nods his head, "rumor has it you could beat any of my militants, anyways. Would rather have you on our side — on my side."

Niragi slings an arm around your shoulders as he hums in agreement. "Not a good idea to get on this one's bad side. I've seen it — scary shit."

Hatter cackles again as Mira eyes you now. She tilts her head a little, deciding to speak up. "Wonder where that temper of yours came from."

You simply grin again, closing your eyes with a sweet facade. "An old friend. That's all."

— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —

When he's recruited to the Beach, Chishiya isn't sure what to think. The man he was partnered with was lasered at the last second, leaving Chishiya in a remaining duo. The woman — Rei, she said — eyed him warily before nodding.

An unspoken rule of the Beach was the ability to bring more people in — more cards in.

It's a loud place, music booming and people cheering as if they aren't in danger. In the entry way of the hotel, there's a small crowd gathering, whooping and jeering. Chishiya unknowingly strays closer to the circle and away from his tour guide.

In the middle, a man with his hair half-up is laughing loudly. His arm is around someone else as they stand over the bleeding lump of a person on the floor. As he laughs, Chishiya can see the shine of a tongue ring gleaming in the lights. His arm is tapped and he's dragged back to the introduction of everyone.

For a second, though, Chishiya thought he caught a glance of you.

Hatter calls for a meeting, as he usually does to welcome newcomers. Niragi stands with his gun slung over his shoulder — Chishiya squints his eyes, thinking of how familiar he looks before his attention is taken.

A long, lanky figure begins to speak to Aguni. The only indication of the conversation is the raise of his eyebrows — he seems surprised by something. Aguni's lips part, as if he's going to speak, before he eyes Hatter and his mouth falls shut.

The door behind him opens and Chishiya feels cold. A shiver runs down his spine, trickling in line with the sweat that's built up. He keeps his eyes to the ground, as if he subconciuosly knows danger is around. A sharp, musical lilt of someone humming interupts the meeting in the room.

"The traitors," it can't be, "have been taken care of, your highness."

Stock-still and frigid Chishiya stands as you come into view. You look different — it's been three years — a wide, estranged grin on your face as you ignore the blood dripping down your face. Niragi saunters up to you, "the hell happened?"

"Had a knife," you let out an annoyed breath, sweeping at the cut above your eyebrow. "Not a very good one, though."

Hatter's laughter calls everyones attention back his way. His grin is just as wide as yours — just as corrupted and red. "Thank you, [Name]! For your sacrifice, the Beach will live another day."

You simply bow your head before standing with Aguni — the militants, Chishiya remembers.

Tilting his head, the blond secretly looks you over. You'd gotten toned — leg and arm muscles built and presenting themselves nicely in your shorts and shirt. You stood relaxed, surrounded by numerous weapons and threatening figures had no impact on you at all. Maybe you were part of that threatening crowd now — part of the fear that clung to the Beach.

Chishiya wondered if you'd noticed his differences as well — his longer, lighter hair and how he slouched more when he stood. He wondered if you'd even seen him in the first place.

Sharp, animalistic eyes catch his gaze. The lanky, tattooed figure watched him before saying something to the pierced one from before. Chishiya shot his eyes away before either had the chance to see him staring.

— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —

"Seem to have caught the newbies attention." Niragi speaks casually as you roam the hallways. He lets out a snort, rolling his eyes and head until he's looking at Last Boss.

Last Boss grins, "always do."

You curl your nose, swatting away the rifle Niragi holds on his shoulder — it'd bounced your way one too many times. "We had a newbie?"

Standing in disbelief, Last Boss pauses in the middle of the hallway. He looks Niragi's way, mouth parted in shock before he's slowly shaking his head. "[Name], you are..."

"Something," a feminine voice speaks up. The girl is with a crowd of three, her eyes trailing up and down your body slowly. She turns to wink your way as her friends scatter. "Something, truly!"

With a giggle, she's gone.

Before they can comment, a bell is tolled, signaling the time for games. Niragi lets out a huff, following behind as you wrap your arm in Last Boss'. A stranger allowed their attraction for you to overcome their fear for everyone else. You had to be magic.

— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —

You had to be magic.

It was a spade's game, to Chishiya's disinterest. He'd made an acquaintance — Kuina agreed on wanting to leave before Hatter, and had a history of combat. She would be useful in these games — except, they switched games at the last minute.

Chishiya couldn't have regretted it more.

You seemed to be the star of the show, everyone focused on you as your fellow militants grinned ferally. Poser — a four of spades where one player selected was not who they said they were. It should've been a hearts game, maybe diamond.

Said player could only be exposed by the color of their 'blood'.

Everyone was given a heavy, white t-shirt full of paint. Red meant you were human — blue meant you were an imposter. Chishiya gulps at the display in front of him. The red staining your skin wasn't just paint — he looked down apathetically at the two half-concious people who'd taken you on beforehand.

"You." A friend of yours is looking his way, at his pristine, unstained shirt. They tilt their head, "let us see your insides, hm?"

Letting out a huff, you swipe the sweat off of your forehead. Three others have joined you in your battle — think some of these people are actually dead. Standing straight, you see a newer militant cornering someone ahead. Shrugging, you saddle up beside them to help.

Your voice dies in your throat.

Dark, almost empty eyes meet yours and you hold back a gag. They shine sparsely, with disgust, maybe empathy and the smallest hint of regret. Your fist clenches around your trusty knife, praying to it that your voice won't break. "...Chishiya."

He almost jumps when he notices your attention on him. The stray militant has joined into the clump of fighters feet away — it's only the two of you once more. He lets out a breath, "[Name]..."

Your fist connects with his cheek before you can think. Chishiya stumbles back — doesn't have time to guard himself before you're nailing your fists into him once again. Your knees connect to the floor harshly as you go down, following his body as he collapses.

How dare he call you so casually? So lovingly? Your swing misses — Chishiya simply stares up at you. How dare he come into the world — this solace of sorts and destroy the walls you'd built? How dare he — three years later — still linger on your tongue and in your thoughts?

A choked, staggered sob leaves your lips as the voice overhead chimes.

"Game complete!"

Chishiya is still laying on the ground as you stand on wobbling legs. His eyes are half-lidded, hazy as he gazes at you, stock still. The red under his broken nose copies the red bleeding from his shirt. Not the traitor this time, at least.

You let out another sob before turning, grabbing the card and leaving the game.

— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —

a part two is already in the works! have to figure out a definite plot, is all <3 if you’d like to be tagged in this series or any other aib work, let me know!! ♥︎

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[thepencilnerd]

take a slice

Summary: No one could imagine a more cunning or manipulative player than Shuntaro Chishiya—until he meets you. complete fic on my ao3 here <3 Word Count: 3.8k Contains: Depictions of violence, unresolved sexual tension, emotional constipation

A/N: because I binge-watched Alice In Borderland in the span of two days and I am very late to the party (but never too late for self-indulgent fan service)

Chishiya spots you across the same floor, your black silhouette nearly lost in the shadows of the night. It’s only your movement that catches his attention, the dark outerwear a sharp contrast to his bright white jacket. You and he are the only players scouting from this vantage point, watching from above while the chaos brews below.

The night is eerily quiet—the calm before the storm, as they say. Your gaze locks onto his, and for a moment, time seems to freeze. Chishiya feels his heartbeat falter, a fleeting hitch he quickly tamps down.

Before he can fully process it, you’ve already vanished around a corner, just as a rain of bullets peppers the area behind you.

A boy’s voice echoes from below, frantic. "The only way to clear this game is to work together!"

Bullshit , you think.

There must be a reason behind the attacker's anchoring position, Chishiya muses.

Of course.

When you finally make your way to the safe room, you’re welcomed by four unfamiliar figures: the spree-killing horse, the brunette boy from earlier, a girl with a bob, and the blonde. 

Chishiya strikes swiftly, the crackle of his taser breaking the stillness. The masked attacker crumples to the floor, their face hitting the ground with a muffled thud. You waste no time, stomping down hard on their wrist, sending the gun skittering from their hand. Before they can recover, you grab the weapon and fire a single round into the crown of their skull. 

When you glance up, you catch the faintest trace of a smirk ghosting across the blonde’s face, but it’s gone just as quickly.

In the seconds that follow, the two other players in the room hastily slam their hands on the red buttons lining the walls.

GAME COMPLETE. CONGRATULATIONS WINNERS. 

Turning around, a pair of wide eyes greets you. 

“Thank you,” the boy finally speaks, addressing you and the blonde in a shaky voice. 

You respond with a nod, glancing over at the girl and seeing her return the acknowledgement. 

“Don’t mention it.” The blonde’s condescending tone from behind you is paralleled only by his burning gaze, locking onto you immediately. He almost misses seeing you slip something from the dead body into your pocket. 

You feel his focus linger on you as you leave the room. 

The night air is thick with tension, the distant cries from nearby arenas only amplifying the silence with each footstep behind you. You don’t bother turning around; you already know who it is.

Chishiya steps into your peripheral vision, his pace unhurried, like a cat stalking in the shadows. The forest buzzes with the threat of unseen dangers, but all his attention is locked on you.

"You didn’t have to kill him," he says, his voice casual, almost amused, as though discussing the weather.

You don’t stop walking. "You didn’t stop me."

A quiet chuckle escapes him, barely more than a breath. "True." His tone remains light, but there’s an edge beneath it, like he’s testing you, challenging you. "Still, you’ve got a certain efficiency. Impressive."

Your expression stays neutral. And yet, Chishiya’s presence beside you stirs something strange—a shared awareness, as if you’re both circling an invisible boundary neither of you are quite ready to cross—yet.

"You took something," he says, breaking the silence again, his voice calm but probing. His gaze stays forward, unreadable. "From the body."

You glance at him briefly, just enough to meet his eyes, which glint with curiosity under the moonlight. He’s trying to figure you out.

"And what if I did?" There’s a challenge in your voice now.

Chishiya’s smirk returns, faint but unmistakable. "Nothing. For now."

The tension between you tightens, pulling you closer in the silence. The game isn’t over. Not between the two of you.

As you continue walking, he trails behind, but soon loses sight of you in the dense trees. Shadows shift, swallowing you whole. He barely has time to catch his breath before a sudden force slams him to the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs. The disturbed soil and decaying leaves soften his fall, but his back still hits the earth with a solid thud.

Your knee digs sharply into his sternum, pinning him down. One hand tightens around his throat, not enough to choke him but enough to strain his breath. The cold, unforgiving edge of a blade presses against his cheek—a silent threat.

Chishiya’s indifferent expression makes your skin crawl, yet his stoic, unflinching gaze cuts through the moment like a dagger—piercing both hot and cold at once. Neither of you speak. It’s a game of cat and cat, both of you testing the other's resolve in this tense, silent standoff.

For a fleeting moment, he wonders if you can read each other’s thoughts.

You feel him gulp beneath your hand, his pulse quickening under your fingers. Both of his hands remain raised in surrender by his ears, calm, unwavering, and empty of any weapon or defense. His eyes flicker to the deep scar on your neck, lingering there for just a moment.

The air between you thickens. What feels like minutes pass in the span of heartbeats.

Without warning, you spring up and disappear into the night.

Chishiya stays on the ground for a moment, catching his breath. He sits up slowly, eyes tracing the path you took into the darkness. His chest rises and falls unevenly, the phantom cold of the blade still lingering on his skin. Silence wraps around him like a fog, but his pulse betrays him—racing, driven by more than just adrenaline.

For the first time in longer than he can remember, he feels something—a strange tug deep in his core, like something vital slipped away the moment you left. A curiosity stirs, mingling with the remnants of tension, a silent acknowledgment that this game isn’t over.

It’s only just begun.

Chishiya’s lips twitch into a faint smirk. Your piercing gaze and the scar on your neck are seared into his mind. He knows he’ll see you again. And next time, he won’t be caught off guard.

“You look like you have something on your mind.”

Kuina sits down across from Chishiya, her curiosity piqued as she watches him stare off into the distance. The evening air is still, a rare calmness settling over the Beach after a chaotic night.

Chishiya leans back, crossing his arms, a faint hum escaping his lips. “Just an interesting game tonight,” he replies casually, but there’s a lingering spark in his gaze that betrays more.

Kuina raises an eyebrow. “Must’ve been some game, then.”

“Perhaps,” Chishiya says, his voice smooth and unhurried. The rush of endorphins from the near-death experience still thrums faintly through his veins. 

The cause? A player whose actions were as cunning and unpredictable as his own. The thrill of narrowing down their motivations felt like a puzzle finally worth solving.

His mind drifts back to the game, replaying each moment like scenes in a movie. The chaos, the desperate shouts, and the blaring alarms all felt distant—mere background noise compared to the razor-sharp focus he'd found himself drawn to. That focus was centered on one person.

You had been an anomaly from the start. There was a precision in the way you moved, calculated and unfazed by the panic unraveling around you. It was as if you thrived on the chaos, embraced it even, letting it fuel each step you took. While the other players were scrambling to find shelter or allies, you seemed to anticipate every move, predicting the patterns before they even unfolded.

And then, the moment that had truly hooked him: the kill. Cold, efficient, and executed without a trace of hesitation. You weren’t just surviving; you were playing the game in its purest form—adapting, evolving, always a step ahead. There was no hesitation in your actions, no unnecessary flourish—just the unyielding will to end a threat. It wasn’t just about self-preservation; it was about winning. And that’s what made you different.

Chishiya’s curiosity flared the instant your eyes met his in the aftermath. For the briefest moment, he’d seen a flicker of something—recognition, maybe even a hint of challenge. Like you were silently asking him if he had what it took to keep up.

It was absurd, really, to feel anything in the Borderlands beyond the mechanical urge to survive. But something had shifted tonight. For the first time in what felt like forever, the game had become more than a series of calculated risks and rewards: it had become interesting.

Chishiya’s gaze shifts back to the window where lights scatter the sky. His fingers tap idly on the armrest of his chair, a rhythm betraying the restlessness he tries to mask. He’s always prided himself on being detached, keeping emotions and sentiment far from his calculations. Yet here he is, preoccupied with thoughts that don't have a place in his carefully constructed logic.

"You're quiet," Kuina observes, her tone carrying a hint of amusement. "More than usual, I mean."

Chishiya’s smirk is faint, barely there. “Am I?”

She shrugs, leaning back in her seat. “You’ve been lost in your own head since you got back.” 

Chishiya’s expression doesn’t falter, but there’s a slight shift in his demeanor—a barely perceptible sign of vulnerability, quickly smoothed over. “Maybe I’m just considering... possibilities,” he replies, the words coming slower than usual, as if he’s testing how they sound. 

Kuina’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Possibilities, huh?” She tilts her head, studying him. “That’s one way of putting it. Or maybe… a person?”

Chishiya’s silence is uncharacteristic. He feels the pull to dismiss the notion immediately, to scoff at the idea of being distracted by a person, much less affected by them. But instead, he pauses. It’s enough for Kuina to catch on, her curiosity piqued.

“Interesting,” she murmurs, a teasing smile curling on her lips. “You’re actually thinking about someone, aren’t you?” When he doesn’t respond, she presses further. “It’s a girl, right? Did she do something to catch your eye?”

Chishiya finally meets her gaze, his own guarded but not entirely dismissive. “She’s... unusual,” he admits, the words coming out almost reluctantly. “Not like the others.”

Kuina arches an eyebrow. “Unusual how? Smart? Dangerous?”

“Both,” he replies without hesitation. “Efficient, focused. But there’s something else.” He uncrosses his arms, feeling oddly exposed, as though admitting to these thoughts makes them more real, more tangible. “It’s like she’s not playing the same game as the rest of them.”

Kuina studies him for a moment, then lets out a soft laugh. “You’ve got it bad,” she says, shaking her head. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d be drawn to someone for more than their utility.”

He scoffs, a ghost of his usual arrogance returning. “Don’t get carried away. I’m only interested because she might be useful.”

“Sure,” Kuina says with a knowing grin. “Keep telling yourself that.”

Chishiya falls silent again, but the truth gnaws at him. He knows it’s more than just her utility in the grand scheme of escaping this hellhole. It’s the way she challenges him—forces him to reevaluate his strategies and makes him wonder if there’s more to this game than just surviving.

He hates how that thought clings to him, even as he tries to push it away.

Chishiya shifts in his chair, feeling a dull ache radiate from his chest. He’s been operating on a different level since encountering you, and the physical reminder feels almost like an anchor to what he’s been trying to navigate.

He glances at Kuina, who’s still watching him with an amused expression, still probing. “You look like you’re plotting something.”

“Just considering my next move,” he replies, a hint of a smirk returning to his lips. “The game is full of variables, and I need to prepare for them.”

“Variables, huh? Is that what you call her now?” Kuina teases, leaning forward, her elbows resting on the table.

“Focus,” he snaps lightly, but there’s no real heat in his voice. Instead, his mind races ahead to the next game, and how he can draw you in, maybe even observe you more closely. He’s already picturing the scenarios—the players, the setting, the stakes.

What he really wants is a way to see you again. To understand the force that pulls him toward you, the complexity that makes you more than just another player. The anticipation churns within him, exciting yet unnerving.

“What if I made a move to recruit her?” he muses aloud, considering the prospect. “She could be an asset. If she operates outside the norm, that could change the dynamics of our strategies.”

“Or it could blow up in your face,” Kuina counters, her tone light but her gaze serious. “You’re not exactly known for your emotionality, Chishiya. What if she doesn’t want to play?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he replies, brushing off her concern. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

But the truth is, he knows that this isn’t merely about the game anymore. It’s about the way you make him feel—like a player in a game he thought he understood, now suddenly complex and exhilarating. Chishiya can’t shake the thought that if he wants to unlock the potential you represent, he’ll have to make a move soon.

He allows himself a moment of vulnerability, resting his chin on his hand as he reflects. “What if I want to see her again, Kuina? What if it’s not just about strategy anymore?”

Kuina’s eyes widen, clearly surprised by his admission. “Wow. You’re actually admitting you care.”

Chishiya rolls his eyes but can’t help the smirk tugging at his lips. “Don’t get carried away.”

“Sure,” she says, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Just remember, sometimes the best strategies are the ones that come from the heart.”

With that, Chishiya’s mind drifts again, calculating and assessing. He’ll be ready for the next game. He’ll be prepared to take any risk to find you again, to unravel the mystery of what you truly are: a partner, a rival, or perhaps something more. As the night draws to a close, the shadows deepen, but a flicker of determination ignites within him.

He will see you again.

A few days have passed since the last game, but the adrenaline still courses through your veins, lingering like a ghost. You survived, but the victory feels hollow, overshadowed by the memory of the indifferent blonde boy who’s drawn you in more than you care to admit.

Your thoughts drift back to that game—its intensity still vivid in your mind. It was like no other you’d experienced, where survival felt more like a dance with death than a struggle against it. And he was at the center of it, moving through the chaos with a calculated grace that caught your attention long before you understood why.

It wasn’t just that he was calm under pressure. Plenty of players had nerves of steel. It was his indifference, the way he seemed detached from the dangers around him, as though nothing could touch him. Where others flinched or panicked, he merely observed, as if the unfolding chaos was a puzzle to solve rather than a life-or-death situation. That kind of control was rare in the Borderlands, and in some strange way, it felt like a dare, an unspoken challenge that made you want to test him, to see if there was anything that could shatter that composure.

You remember the moment you locked eyes across the chaos, the way the world seemed to fade into the background. It was brief, but in that instant, it felt like a silent conversation—an understanding that went beyond words. There was something sharp in his gaze, a spark of curiosity that mirrored your own. It was as if he was evaluating you, sizing you up just as you were doing to him. For a fleeting moment, you wondered if you were seeing a part of yourself reflected back in those cold, calculating eyes.

But it wasn’t just his composure or his gaze that drew you in. It was the way he acted in those crucial seconds when lives hung in the balance. While others scrambled to save themselves, he made moves that seemed almost playful, like he was toying with the danger rather than simply evading it. There was a thrill in watching him maneuver through the madness with an ease that bordered on arrogance, as though he was always three steps ahead of everyone else—including you.

And then there was the moment when the game ended. You had both survived, of course, but there was something in the way he looked at you afterward, something that lingered, a faint smirk that hinted he had seen more than you’d intended to reveal. It wasn’t pity; it was as if he recognized a kindred spirit, someone who understood the game on a different level. For the first time in what felt like ages, you felt truly seen. 

That feeling unsettles you even now, as you sit by the fire, staring into the flames. It’s not that you seek validation in the Borderlands; you’ve learned long ago that the only approval that matters is your own. But there’s something about his quiet confidence, the way he seemed to acknowledge you without saying a word, that’s hard to shake. It makes you wonder if he was as unaffected as he appeared or if there was more beneath the surface, something hidden behind that cool exterior.

You clench your jaw, frustrated with yourself for even thinking about him this much. He was just another player—albeit a skilled one—and you’ve dealt with plenty of them before. But there’s a part of you that can’t ignore the way his presence lingers, like a splinter in your mind, a question that refuses to be answered.

Why did he make such an impression on you? Was it his composure, his intelligence, or the quiet thrill of crossing paths with someone who didn’t play by the same rules as everyone else? Or was it the way he seemed to see you in return, as if you were more than just a piece on the board?

You realize that you don’t know the answers—and perhaps that’s what’s most intriguing of all. There’s an unfinished quality to your last encounter, a feeling that your story with him isn’t over yet. It’s as if the game itself has drawn a line between you, daring you to cross it again.

You shake your head, trying to dismiss the thoughts that have become stubborn visitors in your mind. Why does he occupy your thoughts so much? Is it his calm indifference, the way he moved with calculated grace? Or is it something more that stirs a curiosity you can’t quite define?

Pushing the thoughts aside, you focus on your routine, an independent existence in the Borderlands, where survival means mastering skills few have the patience to learn. You've carved out a small camp nestled within the trees, camouflaged by foliage, a sanctuary of sorts amidst the chaos.

Every morning, you rise before dawn, the cool air biting at your skin as you check your traps. The gentle sounds of the forest waking around you are a familiar symphony, one you find solace in. You harvest small game—rabbits, birds, whatever you can catch—and meticulously prepare them, savoring the simple act of cooking over a small fire.

Hunting and foraging have become second nature. You collect wild herbs and edible plants, storing them in makeshift pouches crafted from scavenged materials. Each successful hunt reminds you of your resilience and strength. 

But even as you focus on these tasks, your mind drifts back to him—the blonde boy from the game. The way his piercing gaze seemed to see right through you, as if he was calculating your every move. It’s unsettling yet exhilarating, a contradiction you can’t wrap your head around.

The sun climbs higher, and you take a break from your chores to wash your hands in a nearby stream, the water refreshing against your skin. As you splash your face, you catch your reflection in the rippling surface, a mix of determination and uncertainty staring back at you.

You spend the afternoon working on camp, reinforcing the makeshift walls and clearing away debris that threatens your space. But even as you work to distract yourself, you can almost feel his presence lurking at the edge of your thoughts, his smirk dancing on your mind like a memory that refuses to fade.

Eventually, you settle on a log outside your camp, a piece of driftwood you dragged from the riverbank. Pulling out your small notebook, you begin to sketch the maps of the Borderlands, noting down resources and potential hideouts. It’s practical, a way to keep your mind sharp, but each mark on the page feels like a tether to the games, to the players who dance around you like shadows.

You reach into your pocket and pull out the small, crumpled piece of paper you took from the body during the game. You’ve looked at it countless times since then, trying to make sense of the chaotic scribbles. It’s a series of numbers and symbols—coordinates, perhaps, or some kind of code. Whatever it is, it’s not immediately clear, and that only deepens your curiosity.

You flatten the paper against the rough surface of the log, comparing it with your sketches. Could it be a location in the Borderlands? A clue to something hidden or an upcoming game? The patterns don’t align with any familiar maps, but something about the markings feels deliberate, as though there’s a message buried within them. You trace the lines with your finger, committing them to memory, trying to see what the original owner had seen. What was so important that they’d die with it?

Your mind drifts back to the moment you took it. The blonde boy’s eyes had flickered towards you—just for a heartbeat—when you pocketed the paper. Did he know what it meant, or had he noticed the same curiosity in you that you now feel?

As you draw, memories of the game resurface: his calculated moves, his indifferent demeanor, and the strange thrill of standing against him. There’s something magnetic about his presence, something that both fascinates and frustrates you.

In the fading light of dusk, you close your eyes for a moment, letting the sounds of the forest wash over you. The call of distant birds, the rustle of branches—each note a reminder that you’re alive, that you’re here, navigating a world filled with peril and unpredictability. But still, the thought lingers. Will your paths cross in the next game, or will you remain a ghost in his memory?

With a sigh, you shake your head and return to your sketches, determination settling in your chest. It doesn’t matter. Yet, in the depths of your mind, a part of you yearns for that inevitable meeting, that chance to unravel the enigma that is the blonde boy.

As darkness settles over the forest, you tuck your notebook away, the images of your maps a promise of the journey ahead. Tomorrow will bring new challenges, new games to navigate. And if fate has its way, perhaps it will also bring him back into your orbit once more.

[archieimagines]

antidote | chishiya shuntaro

Summary: A doctor is a lifeline. In the Jack of Hearts game, Chishiya strives to be yours.

yeah, i took the physician reveal and ran with it. i tried to get into his head to portray him as well as i could in writing this and accidentally fell head over heels. let me know if i did him justice? warnings: large helpings of anxiety, chishiya-esque emotional manipulation, though affectionate. mentions of sex, fwb setup, my attempt at sounding medically educated. word count: 2741 requested by: anon (thank you so much for this brilliant idea, i loved getting stuck into it. i don’t write smut, but i hope this still gets you a little riled.) written by: archie support me on ko-fi

It’s human nature to fuck up. He should’ve known to expect it from you.

It was beginning to wear him down, your constant knee bouncing and nail biting since the third hour of this game. All he needed to do was watch. He was wildly curious to see how this would all play out, and he knew he was safe. Knew you were safe.

All things considered, it was a low-risk game: only trust was required, and he’d scored that easily by taking you under his wing. However, The idea of the Jack of Hearts was a poison injected into the bloodstream of the prison’s population. The symptoms of distrust and paranoia would migrate through the ranks, and the masses would spiral and die.

It was a simple game. The key was to not let your protector get infected.

But the symptoms were visibly taking a hold of you. The cafeteria table shook with your anxious tics, the water in your bottle sloshing enough to disrupt his attention on the surrounding cafeteria. He wouldn’t complain though. You weren’t annoying, no, but you could soon put him on edge if he let you spiral like this, and then he’d be infected too.

“Chishiya,” you called softly, clearly nervous to disrupt his spectating.

He didn’t tear his eyes from the scheming girl in the dress. She was particularly interesting in this setting; and by his deductions, not likely to be the Jack. “Hm?”

Your voice came meeker than normal. “What’s my suit again?”

He turned slowly, a brow quirked over a relaxed eye as he finally gave you his attention. “You forgot?”

“No. Just tell me.”

He sighed silently through his nose, calculating your thoughts. To ask this after he’d told you twice already, you must’ve been anxious about one of two things. One, that your addled mind would fool you into speaking the wrong suit. Or two, that you couldn’t trust him.

“Heart,” was all he said.

And you nodded. Your eyes hardened, clearly visualising the shape before your eyes. ‘Heart,’ he could practically see your mind reciting. ‘Heart.’

Or… Was that a calculating look? He flexed his jaw. Were you possibly tallying up the likelihood that he’d lied to you?

He focused on the accidental downturn of his lips. He shouldn’t be double reading you like that - his own intuition was the only concrete thing he had. He’d never been wrong before. He’d kept the both of you alive for this long based on his skill alone, and he’d not let your lives slip away in a measly Jack’s game.

With a slow blink, he made the conscious choice not to chip away at his own trust in himself, as was undeniably the Jack’s aim in this game.

Chishiya’s gaze lowered to where your fingertips danced on the tabletop. A heart shape. Over and over. Frantic, disturbed. You were slipping.

Against his better judgement, he reached out a hand to clasp over your fingers, quietly amused when those sweet, round eyes fixed on his face. You were so scared, so anxious, and the part inside of him that felt for you lit a soft smile on his lips.

You’d never been good at heart games with that anxious disposition, but that was why he’d kept you by his side. You were an easy window into the minds of his surroundings with how easily he could read you. Your distress on the outside showed blatantly the fear of the people in this game. Everyone under the roof would be feeling it. Even the Jack… Especially the Jack.

Chishiya had found you early on in the games-- only the two of you had survived the Six of Hearts. You were entirely integral to his methods of survival that day, so he stole you away to the Beach and was sure to never let you have a game without him. Losing you as the key to his readings would surely damn him someday. Yet somewhere along the line, he grew… fond.

It must’ve been your consistent proximity, he’d reasoned at first. How your constant being around became a sense of ‘normal’ for both he and Kuina, how your raw, unapologetic humanity was a refreshing shift in his life, how you were a brilliant vessel in the games.

He’d protect you, and you’d provide him the opposite perspective as the control in his readings where everyone else was the variable. The perfect symbiotic relationship in this land.

And perhaps that may have been the case. Perhaps that was the foundation for which he felt appreciative of you, the foundation for a so-called friendship. But it didn’t explain how you’d developed into more for him.

His hold on your fingers tightened, gaze fixed on them as he recalled how they’d thread through his hair, night after night. How they’d unzip his hoodie at the Beach. How they’d scramble to tug the sheets over your naked body when a militant barged through the unlockable door to call him into an executive meeting. He couldn’t help the huff of amusement at the thought. Your eyes were as sweet and panicked then as they were now.

But it wasn’t the same. There, you had the safety of the blankets in his room. A sanctuary. Here, you must’ve felt so exposed to the Jack’s poison. Knee bouncing beneath the table and water bottle gripped tight in one hand, what he could swear was a thin sheen of sweat over your skin. You were really losing your nerve, and he needed to be your antidote.

“Follow me,” he murmured, his interest in the room’s population dissipated. With a gentle nod in a moment of reassurance, he let go of your fingers to let you take up your bottle of water and led you from the cafeteria.

His hands burrowed into his pockets as he walked. He took his slow time, sure to register his surroundings in his peripherals even as he gazed straight ahead, effortless as ever.

Your distinct footsteps followed close behind, audibly unsure and glancing around to the others as you tagged along. He knew you had no clue yet. You were playing it blind and suffering for it.

He took you aside into one of the prison’s meeting rooms where once upon a time, a board of directors would’ve gathered. They’d have administered handfuls of men’s fates, and they’d have considered them less than rats. Now this was where Chishiya would administer your own fate, purely because he held you dear.

He opened a palm to gesture to the end of the table. “Take a seat,” he spoke, ever relaxed, and watched you hop up onto the end of the table. It was rickety, chairs kicked and strewn about, the room only lit by the game-master’s searchlights that shone into the windows.

You looked far from comfortable perched up there, the glare lighting half of your face, and he found himself silent. He just looked at you for a moment. How beautiful you were.

He’d noticed many times, of course. The flutter of your lashes as you looked over his features in a fruitless attempt to read his face. Your parted lips channelling the oxygen that fuelled your body, though your lungs delivered it all shaky and uneven. You were stunning to him, even in the worst of times. Even when you were drenched in the crimson of lives you outlived.

But… There was something in this moment. Something about how right now, he was your lifeline. He held that beautiful existence in his hands and this time, he had the power to choose his method of helping. No supervisors to end your life with a swift letter, no list of priority to bump you down. Or at least, you were the priority.

“What is it?” You jerked him from his thoughts, your ankle bouncing once more where it swung below the table. “Chishiya?”

He gifted you a smile, but it didn’t soothe you.

Your eyes narrowed instead. “What are you hiding from me?”

A soft hum of laughter as he took slow, deliberate steps closer until he stood directly before you. A pinkness on your neck caught his eye and his head tipped in curiosity. He reached to slip a finger into your collar, lips pursed in question as he felt the irritated heat of your skin underneath. “Mm? Do you have a latex allergy?”

“Lat-? No.”

He pulled gently on the band at your neck, stepping even closer to peer at the line of irritation from the garment. It wasn’t until he finally removed his hold that he noted the moisture on his finger-- your sweat. The salt must have caught in the material and rubbed you raw, leading to irritation and the slightest blood spots beneath your skin.

“You’ve been pulling at the collar.”

“It’s tighter than when we started.”

Chishiya knew that wasn’t true. His was perfectly fine - comfortable, even - but he didn’t give a thought to argue. Your stress was having physical implications, making everything even worse for you. Anxiety really is a bitch, he mused.

“Water.” He held a hand out to the bottle and you placed it in his palm. His eyes fixed on yours as he opened it up-- and only at this point did he realise quite how close he was.

Your knees put a comfortable, familiar pressure on either side of his hips, his face uncommonly close to yours without the presence of a bed, but he had no intention of moving. He just took the space and owned it, relishing in the slightest hue of red that dusted your cheek, sure to notice it deepen as he raised your chin between his finger and thumb, guiding you to lift your face.

“This will be cold,” was all the warning he gave before trickling the water down your neck.

You hissed and jerked back, likely from the cold or the sting of the freshwater on your salted wounds. “Shit, Chishiya.”

He simply chuckled inwardly, lips hitched in a humoured smirk as he rinsed your skin. He let the little stream of water run across your throat, taking his time to work towards your other ear. His touch on your chin remained delicate as a doctor’s touch, directing you to look the other way for his ease.

This intimacy, he pondered. So rare in the home world. It was one thing to be a physician in a hospital, and another to use basic, opportunistic materials to heal someone who depended on him so wholly. A patient may fight to survive on their own accord, but here, in this game, with you… Everything rode on his word, on his actions. Everything.

A strange magnetism in his chest drew him ever closer to your skin, until his lips soon met the human warmth beneath your ear. It was a slow kiss, tender and deliberate, and he relished in how your body naturally leant into his.

His closed eyes let him hone on the quickened beat of your pulse, the ghost of a thrum against his lips. Your blood pumped the cortisol of your anxiety through the roof, and he remembered his mission to bring it back down, to calm you. He clung to this as a reason to retract from you. If this reaction was from his unsolicited affection, he should know better than to drive your adrenaline too high. 

“Don’t touch it anymore,” he prescribed, voice level and cool, giving no hint as to how hard it was to lean back from you. “The irritation will lessen and you can focus more.”

“I don’t know what the hell I’m focusing on,” you spat in a whisper, uncommonly callous with your words despite the pink to your cheeks as you watched him close the bottle cap once more. He’d seen you panic before in many a heart’s game, but not like this, not after his sparing affection. This game really was frying your nerves.

“Focus on keeping your head,” he murmured, the slightest snort slipping out after. “In every sense of the word.”

“Shut the fuck up, Chishiya.”

It was endlessly amusing to see you like this. The fire that came from your lips right now had never been rivalled before, and any regret he’d had at choosing a Heart’s game for you quickly dissipated. Fascinating to see you lose your mind.

But, he couldn’t toy with you too far. He allowed you to hear his chuckle, low and rumbling in his chest, only audible with the proximity he kept. “Sincerely. Focus on staying calm. All you need to do is trust me.”

“Not so easy in a place like this.”

He took the chance to look surprised. This was his opening to seal any of his own concerns about you. “You think I’d feed you the wrong suit?”

He paid careful attention to how you hesitated, watching the thoughts dance their patterns behind your eyes. You were looking at him without seeing him, close enough that he could see his reflection in your irises. Calculations, calculations, ones that you so visibly struggled to work out. Would he dare tell you the wrong suit? Would it be out of choice or pre-emptive, lest you try to end him first, purely because you’d worried?

Moments passed, and the longer it went on, the more his worries tugged at his thoughts. He needed to prove himself to you to save his own skin. Both of your skins.

His hands settled lightly on your lower thighs, set snug on either side of his hips, and he gave a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to worry,” he murmured, voice low and soothing as butter on a wound, “We’ll survive this together.”

That endearing little tug between your brows encouraged him on, and he couldn’t help but take your chin in his hold again. To hold that sweet face, so trusting, so impressionable. He watched the hope shine in your features before turning your face the slightest degree, exposing your ear once more, to which he leant in. His breath just tickled your lobe as his nose nudged on your shell, words slow and deliberate. “I know who the Jack is.”

The change in your body language was instant. You jumped back to peer at his face, brows high and eyes wide, no longer slouched and dejected. Your hand gripped at his white jacket, fisted into the fabric to keep him close as you murmured, “Really?”

A slow nod. Relaxed eyes and knowing smirk shone in the searchlight, and he planned his next words carefully. He didn’t want you to know who his suspects were, in case you gave anything away and steered the game from its natural course. “I have two suspects, it’s just down to seeing which fails first.”

The elation in his chest at seeing your relief was disorienting. The way you sighed out with almost a laugh, head thrown back to let it escape you… It was an image he wouldn’t forget for a long time. The serenity of his antidote, saving you from the Jack’s poison.

His brows shot up as you snatched his shoulders into a tight, relieved hold, thighs tight on his waist and arms looped around his neck. Your face pressed into the junction of his shoulder, nestled against his hair. “Thank fuck,” you breathed, edging on tears. “You worked it out? I should’ve known. I should’ve!”

He didn’t say anything, only astounded that you might be so liberal in your affections outside his hotel room. But then, he did bridge that gap first. And there were no regrets. He allowed himself to indulge in it, his own arms finding their home around your waist and his nose in your hair. Of course it was a trick of psychological conditioning, but if he focused just right, he could almost smell the residue of chlorine from the days at the Beach.

He indulged in splaying a hand across your back, rubbing soothing circles over your form. This body… He knew the ins and outs of it. He knew where every mole dotted your skin, he could estimate the length of your lower ribs without flaw. His thumb pressed slow pulses in the flesh between the back of your ribs, imagining that he’d place his stethoscope there.

What a sound he’d hear. Each breath, the source of your survival.

Would it be too arrogant to consider himself such a thing too?

[werelosingdaylight]

Intimate Mornings

Chishiya Shuntaro x GN!Reader

REQUESTED? [Yes] • No

REQUEST: Hi could I request domestic moment with chishiya, like hdcs or anything idc, im a slut for this man and I need domestic moment with him ☹️👍 (the brainrot is very real)

WORD COUNT: 771

SUMMARY| Mornings with Chishiya had always been your favorite, especially after a rough game.

Adm Note: I’m back after a year, I might be a little rusty. I did not specify what the reader looked like or any pronouns! Everyone is included. <3

Sunlight broke through the blue skies with beams of light, peaking through the window to give false loving caresses to the skin of your lovers face, like it was trying to make you envious of the ethereal glow that encapsulates him. Chishiya slept peacefully beside you, his arm slung loosely over your waist, his face didn't hold its usual coldness; a mask he carefully crafted together from hardened clay to protect himself.

Without much thought to your actions you pulled your hand from where it laid motionless under the blanket, taking the physically clean hand and running it through his messy locks of hair. You often wondered if every touch you gave him darkened his soul, the soul that shimmered such a vibrant gold it could blind you.

Where as your soul laid withered up, being cloaked by the shadows lingering in your mind, tormenting you with memories of the things you have done to survive in the borderlands. Crimson stains washed away down the shower drain like it was nothing but dirt spread across your skin.

His hair was soft, like how you imagined clouds to feel as a child. It was familiar and warm to your touch, like an old soul greeting you upon your death, lighting you up with a sense of complete wholeness.

Slowly your hand moved from its place where you were daring to dance your fingers through each piece and wondering if you would turn to gold from touching the hair upon his head.

Trailing down his cheek you relish in the warmth rolling off his skin in waves, a frown pulling at the corner of your lips as you notice a cut along the crown of his forehead, not deep enough to need stitches but it would need to be cleaned.

Running your thumb softly along the cut, a sigh crawled it’s way out of your throat with ragged claws tearing into your windpipe, mindlessly beating against your voice box. “Chishiya…” You whispered, getting no response you tried again to awaken your slumbering boyfriend.

“Chishiya.” Your voice was louder, causing him to stir, his eyes fluttering open at the feeling of being looked at so tenderly. A small sleep filled smile was shot your way, making your heart thud wildly against your rib cage.

Pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips you wordlessly got up, ignoring a whining protest from Chishiya that tugged at your heart strings; he always had been clingy when he was tired.

Entering the bathroom you grabbed a wash cloth, letting the cold water seep through the fabric and pool onto your fingertips before the droplets slid down your hands back into the sink.

Opening the cabinets you grabbed a bandage, rubbing alcohol, and the ointment. Hearing a soft shuffle, that alerted you to the fact your boyfriend was on the move, you moved to the doorway.

“Nuh-uh, lay back down. You’re injured and have five days on your visa.” You made your way over to his side of the bed, sitting down hesitantly beside him. You took care of the bigger injuries last night, including the huge gash along his side from a flying piece of metal.

As gently as you could, you pushed Chishiyas shoulders back, having him leaning against the headboard of the bed. Shifting carefully as to not bother his stitches.

Chishiya rolled his eyes at you being so careful, a yelp of surprise escaping you as two hands pulled you into his lap in a straddling position. “Chishiya! I could have hurt you.” You weren’t normally one to complain about sitting on your boyfriends lap, especially if it’s in the privacy of your own room, but you didn’t want to irritate or reopen his wound.

Chishiya let out what sounded like an annoyed clicking with his tongue “You didn’t hurt me, if anything being this close with you makes me feel better.” Your insides melted at his words, despite him not being the best with emotions they always managed to make you a puddle in his hand.

A soft smile crossed your lips, unable to hold back the warmth that spread throughout your chest, how could you when he looked at you like you crafted every star in his name? Like you shaped every galaxy and creature just to cure his loneliness?

You softly brushed his hair away from the cut, dabbing the wet cloth to clean the dried up blood that escaped and now painted dried ponds on his skin. You know soon enough you will both have to get up, but for now you will soak up the small moments.

[solitaryearthperson]

Stop Being Selfless

Summary: Everyone knows to not bother Chishiya at night, but you are the exception.

(The reader is gender-neutral and uses they/them pronouns. The race/ethnicity is preferably black/person of color.)

Y/N= Your Name

E/C= Eye Color

Loud pounding on a door was not something any person would want to hear late at night, especially Chishiya Shuntaro. Despite his outward appearance of always being calm and collected, his mind was constantly running with different schemes, theories, and suspicions about the many people who lived at the hotel. His only time to relax his mind is at night when he's alone in his room. And when he was laying down in bed, either sleeping or just relaxing, no one was allowed to bother him unless it was something drastically important. Even Kuina, who is one of the few people close to him, knew to not bother him late at night. This was something that the rest of the hotel residents just naturally knew, even if they hadn't formally met him before. That was just common sense.

So the loud, frantic pounding on his door had him opening his eyes in silent fury, and turning over to the door in question, he could see the person's shadow from under the door moving frantically. Arisu? he wondered, but changed his mind quickly. If it was him, he would have been yelling his name stupidly for all the hotel to hear. Letting out a tired sigh, he turned to face the other side of the room, then closed his eyes, ready to tune the pounding out, and drift back to sleep.

"Chishiya?"

A soft voice made him open his eyes, and he quickly threw his blanket off of him and stood up. Was that-he waited to see if he heard it right.

"Ch-Chishiya? Are you up?"

He quickly made his way around the bed and to the door, hurriedly twisting it open and welcoming the sight of a frantic, scared looking (Y/N).

"(Y/N)," Chishiya said, taking a quick look at them before stepping to the side and letting them in. He could see that their (E/C) eyes were wet with unshed tears, the jacket wrapped around their body was somewhat on them and at the same time hanging off their right shoulder and touching the floor, and their body was trembling.

He didn't ask any questions as he already knew why they were there. Niragi.

"Sorry to wake you up," (Y/N) apologized, pulling the rest of the jacket onto their body before zipping it up. "I didn't know where else to go. Niragi, he-"

"It's alright," he interrupted, closing his door and walking back to the bed, laying back down. "Why not go to Kuina?"

They swallowed nervously before answering him. "I thought about going to her or maybe Usagi, but I didn't want to risk Niragi coming and hurting them too."

Selfless, he thought, pulling the blanket back and gesturing for them to lay beside him. Being selfless is going to get you killed, he once told them. It was after a game where he witnessed them, at the last minute, help a weak guy that had fallen behind beat the clock with them and risked both of them dying a horrible death. They had looked at him like he was a heartless monster when he gave them this advice (which he technically was), but he knew that he was right. Stop being so stupidly selfless, he thought watching them walk over to the bed and laying down beside him, their body still trembling lightly. You're better than that, he thought, feeling himself become furious at how scared they looked. I can't have you getting hurt.

"Thanks Chishiya," they said, turning over and facing him. Even though the room was dark, he could still feel their gaze on him, and he was glad that it was dark as he felt his face becoming warm.

The room was silent for a minute as they both closed their eyes, ready to catch back up on the sleep they were both rudely awaken from when a thought had come to Chishiya suddenly, and he couldn't help but ask it.

"Why me?"

It took them a second to respond, but he quickly heard (Y/N) reply with a tired "huh?"

"You didn't go to Usagi or Kuina, because Niragi would have hurt them, too. Did you not think he would do something to me? What about Arisu?"

"I honestly didn't think about Arisu, and I think he hates you too much to come near your room and bother you," they told him.

"Hmm," was his only response.

"I won't bother you again. I promise. Just tonight."

Stop being so selfless, he wanted to tell them, but kept it to himself. Right now, he wanted to enjoy their presence next to him.

"You're not bothering me," he told them, feeling his face become even hotter at the confession. "You can come here whenever you want."

"Oh,...thanks Chishiya," he heard them say before hearing them moving closer till he could feel the warmth of their body next to him through their jacket.

"Your welcome," he muttered, closing his eyes, glad it was dark, as he could feel his face getting hotter and a pleasant grin began growing on his face. I guess being selfless can have benefits, he thought, as he began to slowly fall back asleep. I can be selfish for them and me. While they slept peacefully next to him, feeling safe and warm, he slept with dreams of many ways he would enact payback on Niragi.

[24hlevi]

Can you do a fluff promt #24 on the second list with chishiya? I love that man sm so it would be nice!

thank you so much for requesting! 🫶

also it's literally 5 in the morning i just woke up im sorry if this is terrible

— SAFE WITH YOU

chishiya shuntaro (alice in borderland) x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: fluff prompt ("you're safe here with me. nobody's going to harm you ever again.") from my 2.5k event

warnings: language

after waiting for chishiya outside of the king of diamonds, he appeared to be different. you couldn't pinpoint how exactly, but you were sure that something happened in that game that resulted in him being different towards you, as if he out of nowhere started caring about your opinions and life. the two of you walked in silence as you held the umbrella above both of you due to the rain that was progressively getting worse as time went on.

until he finally spoke.

"what do you think about the value of a human life?"

"what?" you question, turning your head to look over at him.

"i didn't realize it before but, i think of it differently now," he says, looking forward at the buildings.

"what do you mean?" you said, a confused look on your face.

"i mean-"

he was interrupted by a gunshot echoing throughout the city, and when he turned to look at you, you were suddenly on the ground, grasping your side. chishiya's eyes widened ever so slightly as he quickly looked around to see who had fired that shot, and his gaze turned dark when he spotted niragi down the road.

"shit," he cursed under his breath, crouching down beside you. "y/n, y/n, can you hear me?"

"yeah," you nodded, wincing in pain as you held the wound, your eyes closed with your head on the cement.

"i'm going to get you out of here, okay?" he says, a bit of nervousness in his voice you'd never heard before. "c'mon, i'm going to pick you up and we're going to run, alright?"

"okay," you answer, nodding your head again.

chishiya carefully scooped you into his arms, carrying you bridal style and hearing another shot fire. he quickly started running in no particular direction, knowing niragi would follow him, occasionally glancing down at you to make sure you were still alive.

he turned and went into a building, shutting the door behind him and glancing around to see what was in there. an office building. he went down the hall and opened the door to one of the offices, going to the corner and laying you down on the ground.

you had passed out by now, and the blood was seeping through your clothes onto the floor beneath you, and he knew he had to do something fast or else you wouldn't make it. he went through the whole building grabbing items and first aid supplies that would help, and when he returned, he sat in front of you and stared for a moment.

"this is going to sting," he says, putting some rubbing alcohol on a paper towel he found and pressing it onto your wound.

you awoke with a sharp gasp, sitting up and letting out a yelp before chishiya pushed you back down onto your back.

"lay down," he tells you. "i'm trying to make sure you don't die on me."

you laid back down without a response, trying not to think about the words he said to you. this was definitely different. in the whole year you had known this man, he comes out different because of a damned killing game. you don't know what happened in that venue, but you don't really want to know either. you sat in silence as he carefully fixed you up with the limited materials he had gathered in the building, occasionally looking over at him to see how he looked. his eyebrows were furrowed together slightly in focus of stitching the wound closed, and his eyes had a new look in them, one you couldn't quite figure out.

"there, all done," he suddenly speaks, knocking you out of your thoughts.

"thank you," you mutter, slowly sitting up to lean against the wall.

"don't thank me," chishiya shook his head.

leaning your head against the wall, you let out a long sigh. "how much longer do we have to be here?"

"supposedly there's only two more games left," he answered, sitting down next to you. "one is the king of spades, which i've heard is simply a man running around killing all of us."

"great," you mumble. "let's hope he doesn't find us here, then. otherwise i'm done for," you speak quietly.

"don't worry," chishiya shakes his head. "you're safe here with me. nobody's going to harm you ever again."

you look over at him in subtle shock at his words, and judging by his expression, he was shocked by his own words. "thank you," you say quietly.

"don't thank me," he repeats what he said earlier. "i've just come to realize the value of a human life, and you're the most important person in my life."

you almost couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth. was this really happening? did he mean what he was saying, or was he just talking to make you feel better? surely, it couldn't be that. he wouldn't say anything like that in that kind of way. "what are you trying to say?" you ask.

"i love you," he answered.

there it was. the words you had been hoping to hear from him since the day you found yourself in love with him. part of you didn't believe it was possible, knowing the way he was. but, you finally got something good out of this world.

"i love you too."

[nineteenninety-six]

HI EJDBJEBJ pls pls can u do a banda sunato imagine?

where he meets reader at the jack of hearts game and he fell in love at first sight and he was not expecting it because he's a serial killer and there he sees reader (doesnt need to be fem) and like gad damn hi why did i just meet u today. and he swears to like,, protect the reader.

bonus ig is that reader is close to chishiya

I change a few things from the episode but hopefully, it still makes sense lol and Banda is ooc. Also, it's funny seeing the likes go up for my Arisu fic since the second season was released.

I made this gn but if you see any gendered language please tell me so I can correct it!

YN trailed behind Chishiya as they entered the prison where the Jack of Hearts game was being held. After being separated from the rest of the group, the two of them were trying to get back to them whilst entering the face card games.

Well, YN was focused on getting back to the group whilst Chishiya took his sweet time, eagerly seeking out the blimps that flew over Tokyo. 

His eyes lit up when he realised that they were near the Jack of Hearts game, and though he says he was not suited for them, YN believed that Chishiya was intelligent to the point he could adapt to all of the card types, except maybe Spades but he would figure a way out for that too as he did with the Tag game.

If it wasn’t for the fact that their visa was going to expire soon, YN would be sitting outside of the prison waiting for Chishiya to return but unfortunately, the borderlands were cruel so here they were putting their life on the line yet again.

They slipped the collars on as instructed and made their way into the guard room where about ten people were waiting and judging from the table of collars by the entrance, it was going to be a high-number player game.

Chishiya found a shadowed alcove where he could see the entrance and everyone else who was already there. YN took their place next to him and together they waited for the rest of the players to join.

Eventually, the last player joined and the tension and fear in the room amplified as the screen in the room lit up and the automated voice rattled through the speakers and everyone’s attention was directed to it.

“Difficulty, Jack of Hearts.”

“Game, Prison Cell”

┆彡

Banda stepped into the guardroom and set his gaze upon the other players in the guardroom. Some nervously avoided eye contact, others squared their shoulders and made themselves bigger as others hid in the shadows.

Nothing unusual, he noted. After all, they were all forced to participate in these death games but some adapted better than others. Some people thrived and dominated the games whilst others simply rode on their coattails, surviving off the backs of others.

Banda turned his attention back to the screen, listening to the instructions as they were explained. 

“Rules. Guess the suit that appears on the back of your collar. However, you cannot see your own suit. The time limit per round is one hour. Five minutes before the time is up enter one of the prison cells and guess what your own suit is. If you do not guess your suit correctly, the game is over for you. When time runs out, your collar will explode and you will die. In addition, your suit will change at every round.”

People fiddled with their collars, twisting and turning but their design made it impossible.

“But we just need to have someone tell us what it is, right? That'll be easy” A young man excitedly exclaims on the other side of the room, bringing Banda’s attention to him and consequently to YN as they move out of the shadows when the man next to them responds.

“I wouldn't be so sure. They haven't told us how to clear the game.”

Banda pays no attention to the voice as it finishes explaining the rules as he was hooked on the mysterious person on the opposite side of the room. 

He was down bad and they hadn’t even shared a word.

┆彡

YN watched as everyone started to team up but distrust was thick in the air. Reality has settled in, it would be hard to clear this game and most will die as distrust and backstabbing fester.

The young man in what YN thought was quite an adorable set-up of a yellow t-shirt and dungarees, turns to them “Hey, let’s tell each other”

“If you want to survive, you need to observe everyone here very closely. You need to remember everyone who doesn’t lie. Besides, I could be the Jack of Hearts myself…”

YN tunes out Chishiya, their gaze focused on the man who is steadily approaching them from the other side of the room. He was cute, with a sweet smile and broad shoulders.

His eyes are only on YN and as he stops in front of them, it pulls Chishiya from his conversation but he remains silent as he watches on.

“Do you want to partner up?” The man asked eagerly, “We’re stronger in pairs.”

Chishiya makes a noise of amusement which causes the man's eyes to flicker over to him.

“...Unless you’ve already partnered up” The man glared slightly at Chishiya

“No, no… we can all group up.” YN quickly spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension between the two men. Chishiya had the ability to piss anyone and everyone off, including YN several times.

When the man looked back over at YN, they introduced themselves, holding out a hand that the man eagerly shook and introduced himself.

“Banda.” He smiles, “Banda Sunato”

YN returns his smile and twists around, showing him the back of their collar, “Do you mind telling me mine?”

Banda steps closer to look at the collar before gently tugging YN back around to face him. The physical contact was unneeded but YN didn’t mind. In fact, they kind of liked it.

“Club.”

YN tells him and Chishiya’s theirs before they have to go into the cells to call out their suit.

There are no deaths this round and everyone breathes a sigh of relief as they step out of their cells. 

Immediately Banda makes their way over to YN with a smile, not wanting to be separated from them for longer than he has to.

Chishiya watches as they head to the food room, racking his brain, trying to remember where he remembers the name Banda Sunato from. 

┆彡

“You know, I wonder how long this will last”

The words of the man next to Banda catch YN’s attention, so they listen in on their conversation.

“Either the Jack will start killing people, or someone who’s afraid they’ll be killed will start killing others. Until one of those things happens, this will never end.” Banda explains.

“That’s exactly right.” Chishiya jumps in.

“As long as we’re all telling each other, we’ll be fine.” The man in the yellow shirt, Ippei, tries to look on the brighter side of things.

YN gives him a sympathetic smile, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Their conversation is interrupted by shouting and a young man being shoved to the floor. Everybody turns to watch as a bald man shouts at the frightened younger man to tell him his suit.

YN tries to move forward to help him but is stopped by Chishiya who shakes his head at them, motioning to what Banda was currently doing. 

When YN hears the muffled explosion and thump that echoes through the prison at the end of the round, they realise what Banda had done.

┆彡

Banda watches as YN snacks on a packet of cookies, finding everything they do utterly endearing and adorable.

“You know…” He begins to speak, catching YN’s attention, “I would never betray you. I’ll protect you.”

He takes YN’s hand in his, holding it tightly but their moment is interrupted by the arrival of Chishiya.

“Eyy, for all we know you can be the jack of hearts.”

Banda glares at Chishiya. So does YN. Trust him to stir up shit.

“So could you.”

Chishiya points at YN, “They can vouch for me”

Banda looks over to YN who rolls their eyes and nods, “I’ve had the misfortune of knowing Chishiya since I came to the borderlands. He’s not the Jack. Neither am I, by the way.”

Banda quickly shook his head, “I would have never thought that.”

YN saw Chishiya make a face from the corner of their eye but ignored him.

YN didn’t tell Banda that they knew he kickstarted the series of deaths in this game either.

┆彡

Players were dropping like flies. Backing stabbing and fear had crumbled groups until there were only seven of them left. 

Ippei couldn’t take it, the game had broken him and as YN watched him sob on the floor as Chishiya tried to comfort him, they felt bad for him. They understood how these death games took everything from you and if you manage to survive one, you barely have enough time to recuperate before you’re forced to join another lest you want your visa to run out.

When YN heard the muffled explosion at the end of the hour, they knew Ippei chose death. 

Banda approached YN, seeing how upset they were about Ippei, bringing them into a hug and comforting them.

“He’s at peace now.”

YN nodded and snuggled further into his hold, melting into his warmth. YN had needed that hug desperately, the last one they had was with Kuina at The Beach which felt like a lifetime ago. 

YN took a backseat role for the next round, Chishiya told them their suit and vice versa. Watching as he planned something with Banda and Yaba but did not get involved as they laid a trap for Matsushita, the Jack of Hearts.

After the trap fell in place, YN watched as Yaba dragged Matsushita into an empty cell as Banda made his way over to where they were standing and Chishiya made himself scarce, giving them a moment of privacy.

Banda cups YN’s cheek in his hand, “I think this is where we part but we will meet again. I promise you that.”

YN nodded, placing their hand over the one that rested on their cheek, “We will. I know it.”

Banda gave them a rare smile before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on YN’s cheek before he let them go and walked back to the cell Yaba was holding Matsushita in.

As YN and Chishiya left the prison, the blimp above it exploded, signalling the Jack of Hearts had been defeated.

YN cast a worried look back at the prison as they walked further away which Chishiya rolled his eyes at when he noticed.

“You know he is a serial killer right?” Chishiya told them still walking away, “ He’ll be fine”

YN did a double take at his words, “A what?”

“Serial killer. Killed four women”

YN gaped at the back of Chishiya’s head before chasing after him, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Chishiya looked behind him and picked up his pace at the sight of YN’s mad face gaining ground on him, “I thought you knew! I thought he told you!”

┆彡

One week later, YN sat outside the supreme court waiting for Chishiya as he played the King of Diamonds game when they heard a voice call out to them.

“Waiting for someone?”

YN looked up and couldn’t help the smile that spread on their face, 

“Banda!”

[life-is-more-than-just-a-game]

♠️ "Scars don't make you a monster." ♠️

A/N: So, someone gave me this request via direct message and what should I say? I really do like this idea and I'm pretty happy about the fact that I can wrote about it! 🫶🏻

Characters: Niragi

POV: fem!reader ; Fluff

Warnings: Not given.

It's in the middle of the night. I have never been the person who has problems sleeping through the night. Even the biggest noises couldn't stop me from slumbering soundly. In summer, I can leave the windows open and listen to the buzzing and singing of the insects without a care in the world until I drift off into dreamland. Wind and weather don't stop me either. You could say that my body is able to adapt to all the conditions of my environment. So ... even now, when I realize in my sleep that something - more someone - is missing next to me.

I've noticed it all along. Even when I met Niragi again, I had the feeling that he had changed. Not in terms of his appearance- at least that was never the deciding factor for me. Admittedly, when I saw him again for the first time after the witch hunt, I was ... shocked. Because of several aspects. His scars - his burnt skin - was one thing, but seeing him again when I once thought he ... would no longer be with us, that was the crux of my reaction. That I drew in a startled breath. That I looked at him in shock and, of course, in tears, which I had swallowed at that moment. I was ... simply happy. To see that he was still alive.

Anyway, this is the first time I've had to open my eyes in the middle of the night because my body couldn't adapt to my surroundings during sleep. As soon as I went to bed, I had a feeling that something was wrong with Niragi. And it looks like I'm about to find out whether my gut feeling was right or not. Deep down, I already know the answer, but I want to hear it from him. I want him to tell me what's going on in his head right now. How he feels. What is bothering him. If something is bothering him.

Looking thoughtfully at my partner's side of the bed, I gradually start to move, hoping it won't take me long to find him. So, sighing and wearily brushing my hair out of my face, I get up and put one foot in front of the other to look for Niragi, who apparently hasn't even bothered to really hide.

"Niragi, what's wrong?" I rub one of my eyes sleepily and look just as sleepily at the boy standing on the balcony of the building where we've set up camp today. "Come back to bed, it's still pitch dark."

"I can sleep when I'm dead." It's not that I wouldn't expect him to say something like that- but what worries me is the way he says it.

Instead of saying anything, however, I just stand still for a moment and stare over at him. He doesn't even dare to turn towards me when we talk. I don't know him like this at all.

"I'm worried about you," you say in a calm tone as you walk towards him, aiming to stand next to him so you can look over the rooftops of the city with him. "Somehow I don't recognize you anymore," you continue, "where's the Niragi I met at the beach? The one with the big mouth and the high self-confidence, with the will of a leader?" Silence.

A moment later, all I hear is a hysterical giggle, which was obviously not the result of amusement or mirth. No, it sounded ... forced ... and hurt at the same time.

"He's been burned." Such a simple answer, but one with such great significance. "You should really go back to bed now."

"I'm not going anywhere." Determined, I now walk the last few meters towards him, after which I stand next to him. "Not without you." Unlike what I had planned, however, I don't stand so that I can see the loss, dark surroundings, but so that I am facing Niragi directly. "I knew something was wrong with you. I could tell by looking at you. Even yesterday, when you wished me a good night, your eyes betrayed you- so please don't pretend you don't care." Pause. "You are a human being. Not a robot."

"I'm a monster, Y/N!", he yelled at me and I jumped back a little because he turned around so suddenly and unexpectedly to finally look me in the face. "I can't even understand how you could even look at me on the street without throwing up right at my feet!" But just as quickly as he hit the ceiling, he quickly calmed down again.

I am sad. Is that really what he thinks? Does he really see himself as he has just described? As a monster? Oh, I'd love to ask what makes him think that, but I won't. I know the reason. His burns. The scars Chishiya left on him are the reason he speaks so poorly of himself. And it hurts. It hurts to know that a person in whom you see everything wonderful and whom you love for who he is, thinks of himself like that.

"Oh, darlin', that's not true ..." I realize how pitiful I'm looking at him right now, the softer his features become and the more he shows his mental pain to the outside world. "Please, don't say that ... Scars don't make you a monster."

"Just tell me how you can look at me like that without being afraid of me. How you ... how you can hold me in your arms without being disgusted by my skin. Without worrying about hurting me or feeling the need to puke your soul o-" I don't want to hear about that.

I understood the question. He wants answers? He'll get them. My way. The way in which I don't let him speak, but simply put one of my arms loosely around his neck to pull him into a loving kiss that for just a moment - a brief moment - is supposed to make the world stop for him.

Something that seems to work well. At least he abruptly matches my rhythm and wraps his arms around my waist to press me closer to him. To be able to feel me even better. To feel that he is not alone. Will not be alone. And to feel that there is someone who can be there for him and wants to be there.

I ... have to admit that no kiss with him was as beautiful as this one. Niragi is a rough person. He gets what he wants, his kisses were molded to his personality. Ungentle. Lots of tongue and especially biting. All the more reason for me to enjoy the kiss we're sharing right now, because who knows if I will ever experience this again.

Nevertheless, you should stop where it gets most beautiful. Although the really nice part - for him - is probably only now. One answer. An answer that will answer all his questions in one fell swoop.

"I love you," I breathe to him, tilting my head a little to the side as I look up at him and into his eyes. "That's why I can do all this, Niragi, it ... It's not as complicated and complex as you might have thought." I gave him a little smile and I can see it in his face- he's smiling a little, too. "And now come back to bed. You need to rest a bit and give your injuries a treatment. And by the way ... I'm tired and want to go back to sleep." Laughter, which only comes from me, but that's okay- his smile is enough for me. "Plus, I'm in desperate need of a good cuddle from you right now." Now, I can hear him chuckle a little and damn, it's the most beautiful I could ever hear coming out from him.

After another peck on the lips from him, I take him by the hand and walk him back into the building, where a place to sleep is waiting for us. In passing, I hear him say "I don't deserve you ...", which was probably only meant for him. But ...

"If everyone only got what they deserved, they couldn't possibly be happy in their lives, don't you think?"

A/N: Damn, I enjoyed writing this so much. Thanks for you request, stygianoir! Hope you enjoyed reading it as well. 🙈♥️

[riseatlantisss]

Lost and Found

Pairing : Chishiya Shuntarō x gn!reader, post-Borderland 

- AIB season 2 spoilers - 

Just fluff and cuddles. In bed. Thats it thats the plot. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  I’m not even gonna pretend theres anything more to it than that.  

♡ ♢ ♤ ♧  ♡ ♢ ♤ ♧  ♡ ♢ ♤ ♧  ♡ ♢ ♤ ♧  ♡ ♢ ♤ ♧  ♡ ♢ ♤ ♧  

Lying awake beside you, Chishiya is listening to you breathe, analyzing your heart rate. In, out... steady and calm. He could almost count the exact number of beats per minute, but he’s too busy thinking about how lucky he is to have you beside him to care about precision. He finds infinite comfort in the repeated rise and fall of your chest. It proves to him that you are alive, safe and here, right next to him. 

You are indeed. And you feel utterly and completely content, in bed, curled up against him. There’s nowhere else in the world you’d rather be.

You lift one hand from where it has been resting on his shoulder and run it through his messy blond hair, sending a shiver of pleasure down his spine. He looks tousled and sleepy and soft, eyes bright and hair wild, and all around adorable in the faint light that’s falling through the curtains of your bedroom. You continue running your fingers through his hair and down his neck as he lets out a long sigh of joy and relief, like all the tensions in his body were released, all at once. 

“You’re secretly a cat, aren’t you?” You chuckle softly next to his ear. “I’m just waiting for you to start purring!” 

Chishiya grins and makes a noise that he wanted disdainful, but comes out as a low rumble, not that far from a purr actually. You laugh. Not because you’re mocking him but because you’re happy. You both had been through so much. The meteorite took pieces from the both of you. Borderland did too, and you thought you’d never be whole. But you made it through. In each other’s arms, you found those pieces again. Now you’ve got him, and he’s got you. The past does not matter. 

Chishiya’s arms tighten around you and he shifts slightly to kiss the top of your head, then your forehead, then your top lip, your bottom lip and both at once. His kisses are sometimes somber and serious, but mostly they’re playful, and delighted - and they’re all the time peaceful, uncomplicated, and calm. His kisses are all you need. He had kissed you before, innumerable times and in innumerable ways, but still, you’ll never get enough of him. He breaks off and looks at you with with unhurried, adoring black eyes and a sleepy smile. You smile back and you both relish in this quiet moment together. You love him so much it’s almost pathetic. You yearn for him constantly. All of him. His smug smile, his soft laugh, the sharpness of his mind, his bewitching dark eyes, his messy hair in the morning, his comforting warmth at night. Pathetic. You’ll never tell him that. 

(he already knows)

It’s strangely easy for you to be tired in his arms. Maybe because he makes you feel so safe. You close your eyes and roll onto your side to face away from him while you slowly drift into sleep. Chishiya keeps his arms around you and presses his body against your back, tangling your legs together and pulling you tighter against him. As he presses one last sleepy kiss on the top of your head, you wonder if this really is true happiness. You decide that if it’s not, it must be the closest you’ve ever been to it.

[aliceinnaughtyland]

OFF LIMITS

Pairing: Niragi x Aguni’s sister! Reader

Warnings: unprotected sex (be smart!), possessive Niragi

Word count: 1.9 K

Summary: Niragi wants you so bad it hurts but he’s too scared of your brother to do anything about it. You have to take the matter into your own hands.

Author’s note: And I disappeared again. I promise you guys I love y’all, I just experience some writer block. Don’t hate me. Here’s a counter sex smut (my favourite) with Niragi to apologize! Remember that English isn’t my first language. Please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think.

Nota bene: We do NOT condone Niragi’s actions as we do NOT condone rape! We only love the Dori Sakurada’s interpretation of Niragi. This is fantasies only! You do NOT deserve this! If you are a victim of violence, please get help as soon as possible! You are not alone. Stay safe xx

Niragi was an asshole.

He was obnoxious and rude, and he treated everyone like he owned them.

But not with you! With you, he was nice and kind. He always tried to help you in any sort of way. Not that you needed help, obviously. But having a big armed guy on your side was hardly a luxury at the Beach.

Two reasons why he treated you well.

First of all, because he had the biggest crush on you. When he was around you, he couldn’t think of anything but getting into your pants. You were beautiful, and you were confident. You weren’t scared of him and to be totally honest, he found himself turned on anytime you opened your mouth to shut him up.

But there was another reason that made him be nice to you: You were Aguni’s sister!

You were off limits. Everybody knew that.

Actually, Aguni never said a thing about you. But no one was bold enough to try anything!

You busted in the VIP room during a militant meeting and your confidence still impressed Niragi. Dangerous armed guys were talking, and you interrupted them with no care in the world. His eyes were scanning your body until they met yours, already staring at him with lifted brows. He’d been caught. Was he embarrassed? You giggled a bit.

“Aguni, I need to talk to you”

Your brother nodded as he left the room, following you into the corridor.

You were hungry! It was past midnight and you were so fucking hungry. But you were in your bed, comfy and warm and you didn’t want to move. You debated with yourself but soon, laziness lost the battle against hunger. You threw yourself out of bed and went to the kitchen, not even bothering changing. Your pyjamas consisted of only an extra-large shirt and short shorts, but you were in a bikini all day every day, so half of the people at the Beach already saw your butt. Why changed then?

You arrived at the kitchen and turned on the music to make yourself a snack. You were dancing to the beat as your cheese grilled when you heard someone behind you, walking to you. You didn’t take the time to think, grabbed a knife and turned around quickly.

On the other side of your knife was Niragi’s throat, with his hands up.

« You’re fast » he said calmly, smirking at you.

« Damn it Niragi, don’t do that! You scared the shit out of me! »

« Sorry » he chuckled.

The sound of the microwave ringing behind you interrupted the intense eye contact.

« Can I sit with you? » he asked, already climbing on top of the counter.

« Sure » you answered as you hoped beside him, food in your hands.

You made sure your thigh was brushing against his as you sat.

You wanted him.

And you knew he wanted you.

You remembered this moment. The moment you learned that Niragi wanted to “fuck you raw against a wall”. His words.

It was a hot summer night and you needed to refresh yourself. You and your friends decided to head to the pool. You were wearing your favourite bikini, not bothering to wear anything else. But as you were about to leave the building, you realized you forgot your hairbrush and turned around, telling your friends you will meet them at the pool.

“Yeah so I can give Aguni a reason to kill me, right?”

As you heard your brother’s name, you knew you had to stop and listen. What if someone wanted to do him wrong? You needed to know.

“I don’t know man” Takatora answered, clearly bothered.

“No, I’m telling you! I’m not usually smart but I’ll be on that one. I’ll just stop thinking about her and move on”

As you got closer, you clearly recognize Niragi’s voice.

“If you say so”

“What?”

“Bro you are talking about her 24/7. Every time she’s entering the fucking room. I get it, you like her. But you’re driving me fucking crazy”

You continued listening for a while as it was kinda fun, but when you heard them moving, you quickly turned around and join your friends.

« So no chicks to impress tonight, huh? » you asked him before taking a bite of your grilled cheese.

« No. I grew bored I guess » he shrugged, stealing your snack.

“Bored? About girls? Who are you and what did you do to Niragi?”

He sincerely laughed at that, but didn’t really answer you.

Niragi seemed confident, but you knew him too well. You noticed the little shake in his voice and the way he swallowed at your giggles.

You knew he wanted you. And you wanted him. Now. On this exact counter.

You shifted a little, feigning to get more comfortable when, really, you made sure to get closer to him. You moved your hair out of your shoulders, letting him see your neck and collarbone. You could feel the tension. The atmosphere was getting thick. He loudly inhaled through his nose, and you knew. Your plan was working.

And he knew you knew. You weren’t innocent, and he was well aware of that. Your little game wasn’t unnoticed, and that was exactly why it was working. He knew you wanted him. And it made him go crazy. The months of flirting together and staring at each other were getting to an end.

He knew it was a dangerous game. That’s why he stood up, leaving the counter. But you pursued him and grabbed his arm before he could walk away. He turned around again and you pulled him a little, wedging yourself between the counter and his body.

« I don’t want to hurt you »

« What if I want you to hurt me? »

A shaky breath left his mouth.

« Y/N don’t tease »

« Why not? »

« I can’t do that »

« But you want to? »

« Your brother would kill me »

« But I’ll make you feel alive »

 You knew he was going to cave; it was a matter of minutes. You knew it was going to take one more sentence.

« Fuck me Niragi »

At that, his mouth was on yours. He captured your lips with a fervor you never felt before.

He grabbed your thighs and sat you on the counter again, so close to the edge that you could feel his entire body pressed against yours. His hands were everywhere on your body. His mouth left yours to navigate on your jaw and neck.

He wanted you for so long, and he was going to make the best of it. He was literally aching for you, his body hurting with desire.

He grabbed your waist under your shirt, tight, and you felt like you were his. He made sure of that. He was going to get hell by your brother. He wanted at least to make the best of it while it lasted.

If he wasn’t close before, he definitely was now. You could feel his clothed groin pressing against your pussy. You instinctively moved your hips, trying to get some friction. He quickly grabbed your hips, stopping your movements. He needed you to stay still or else he was sure he was going to explode.

“I shouldn’t be doing this”

“You’re hot when you’re scared”

« Your brother will kill me»

« Don’t think about him » you said as you guide his hand inside your underwear, your lips brushing against his, « think about me »

His fingers quickly found your clit. He didn’t waste any time. Not anymore. He could feel the wetness on you and he needed more. He couldn’t care less about Aguni right now. The guy had left his mind the moment he felt your hand pulling at his, guiding it inside of your shorts. You moaned in his ear and he knew he couldn’t live without this sound anymore.

His fingers circled your clit, his mouth on yours, kissing you like there was no tomorrow. Which actually might be true for him.

“You’re so fucking wet” he groaned, not giving a damn about who could hear him.

You only whimpered in answer, your hands gripping his shoulders so tight he knew you would be leaving marks.

You could feel his fingers slipping inside of you with ease, his thumb still on your clit. He was fast, hard, and touching every spots inside of you that made you see stars.

“You’re fucking mine now. There is no way anyone would touch you like I do ever again. I will kill anyone who get close to you”

You were about to climax, and he knew it. He could feel you clenching around his fingers. He suddenly slipped his fingers out of you, stopping all of the sudden, and all you could do was whine. You were gonna ask him why he’s stop when he explained it to you.

 “If you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna cum around my cock princess. I want to feel it on my cock.”

You wanted to answer but couldn’t. Instead, you just looked at him with wide eyes, trying to make him cave and let you cum.

“Continue to pout like that and I’ll destroy you. You just have what you asked for princess, teasing me like you don’t know what you’re doing”

You felt him grabbed your shorts and lifted your hips to allow him to take them off.

Your hands were opening his shirt, exploring his chest as he was working on his belt and pants.

He quickly penetrated you, not letting you any time to adjust to his size, and you were unable to keep your eyes open.

But then again, for the second time of the night, everything stopped.

“You look at me in the eyes when I’m inside you. You close your eyes and I stop.”

With that, he kissed you, slower this time. You sighed when you felt him inside of you again. You could feel his hair falling against your face and his hot breath on you.

“I’ll probably get shot for it but this is so fucking worth it”

You wanted to respond, but the only thing your brain could do was make you moan.

His fingers found your clit again and in no time the stimulation was enough to make you clench around him, milking his own orgasm away.

Aguni was searching for you when he entered the kitchen and saw the two of you getting dressed.

Niragi’s eyes widen and he stepped backward, his hands up in defense. He was ready to apologize. Or ready to die. He opened his mouth to say something, anything that could get him out of trouble,  and Aguni’s eyes left him to speak to you.

«Y/N I need to see you » he stated.

«Coming » you answered as your brother turned around and leave.

Aguni knew you could handle yourself. He actually never gave a fuck about your love and sexual life. You were an adult and he couldn’t care less.

He never threatened anyone who got too close to you. His reputation just did the thing.

« I like it when you get scared » you laughed, winking at him before following your brother, letting the tall guy speechless and alone in the middle of the room.

[keysmashingfantasies]

Hi! I finished AIB and honestly it was a rollercoaster. I was wondering if you could do a Chishiya fluff of them competing in one of the games from season 2? (Any maybe kinda established relationship- I’m in love with him)

i can sure try! (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ thank you for requesting and feedback is always welcome. it's very short but i think it turned out okay!

"Are you insane? You jumped out of a moving car!", Chishiya chastised you while you both took refuge in a building nearby, huddling close to each other and whispering, while the two of you thought of ways to avoid the King of Spades.

"Well, I wasn't about to leave you!", you said, decidedly as if it was an universal truth. "You didn't leave me in the first game we played, you didn't leave me back when the Beach was burning... I'm not leaving you now. You made me a promise, remember?", you smiled, intertwining your fingers together. Usually, Chishiya wasn't one for PDA but since it was just the two of you inside an abandoned building, you thought it would be a good exception. He made sure no one knew about the two of you back in the Beach, not even Kuina knew until you were months in.

"Hm, did I? I don't recall", he teased with a slight smile, tightening his hand around yours. Of course Chishiya remembered, he wasn't one to make promises after all, but he indulged both you and himself with that one. 'We'll get out of here together'.

"You don't, huh?", you chuckled. "Well, I do. It's very important to me. Something something we'll get out of here together, if I'm not mistaken", you smiled at him.

"Oh, yes. I suppose I did. Hm. Now I have no choice but to go through with it, do I?", he humored, earning himself a weak slap to the arm while he raised his hands in surrender, not letting go of your hand and effectively pulling you into him.

"Damn right you don't. You're not getting rid of me that easy. Our promise go both ways", you said, quietly, now admiring him upclose. At the sound of gunshots far away, you hid your face in his chest for a moment. "If we can get rid of him. What the hell, does he has infinite ammo?"

"I guess. We'll wait for him to pass by and then we'll move. Find a game. Find the others, if possible. You alright with that?", he asked, leaning in close.

"I'm fine with whatever if it means you'll be by my side", you were determined, Chishiya could see that. Could see that you meant every word, and your undying loyalty made his heart clench.

"Of course I'll be by your side. I'm not that easy to get rid of either", he pecked your lips.

[airbendertendou]

i can’t die! [i’m all in.] ♡ chishiya shuntaro

anon requested : Hi Author! Can you please write (if it's okay) a fanfic about chishiya, Where the reader was chishiya's girlfriend before the borderline, they were supposed to meet in somewhere but the meteorite fell just before they did, and they meet again for the first time in the jack of hearts game?  I know this isn't very detailed and I'm so sorry for that ;-; thank you author

song inspo ; coin by iu

synopsis : seeing your arranged boyfriend-of-sorts in the borderland’s is nerve-wracking. especially when he sees you’ve befriended a serial killer.

gender neutral reader, [name] used in place of y/n, platonic!banda - he might b ooc but idc <3, reader wears an oversized cardigan

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ —

“Will you get out of my way?” You shove the tall male to the side playfully as you fasten the collar around your neck. Banda’s eyes met yours and you grinned mischievously. “This place remind you of anything?”

“You’re so funny,” he replies blandly. The prison around you is cold and you’re thankful for the cardigan you’ve kept all these weeks. You follow behind Banda as he walks up the stairs, eyes on the floor as you anticipate your newest game. “Jack of Hearts — what are you expecting?”

Thinking the question over briefly, you speak monotonously, “Russian roulette, probably.”

“I wouldn’t be so lucky.”

Eyes are on you both as you walk into the main hallway. A girl in a blue dress catches your attention, then a sweet looking guy in yellow and overalls. Your eyes drop to the floor again as the automated voice goes over the game and the rules. A subtle nudge against your shoulder catches your attention. Banda speaks without moving, “you and me?”

“That’s what I was planning, doofus.”

Your gaze drifts around the room again as people begin to pair up. Banda wanders off, exploring the area you’re locked in indefinitely. A white hood catches your attention, eyes following down their figure until you’re met with analyzing eyes and a familiar smirk. Your lips part, “Chishiya?”

As if he can hear you, the man tilts his head at you before walking off with his chosen group. 

Banda has collected a new person to join your duo — the stranger looks you over before grinning shyly. The hair on the back of your neck stands up, distrust crawling up your spine as you smile back. Meeting Banda’s gaze, you knew he was just as wary.

The killer — because that’s what he was in the other world and this one — slinks up next to you slyly. “See anyone you know?”

“Maybe,” you’re looking around once more, observing the way everyone interacts. Inclining your body slightly to the right, your eyes meet Chishiya’s. “Him. We were… together, in the other world. Something our parents agreed on.”

Banda lets out a mischievous snicker before leaning closer to you. “How cute. And he hasn’t come to say hello? Pity.”

You glare his way, wedging your elbow into the right side of his ribcage. The timer goes off then and you scamper over to an empty cell to give your card suit. As you exit your cell, Chishiya is idling in front of you curiously. He sways before speaking, “you know he’s killed people, right?”

“At this point, I haven’t met anyone here who isn’t a murderer.”

The blond hums before his gaze drifts, landing on something over your right shoulder. You know it’s Banda, looming behind you as he usually does. Chishiya looks to you again and speaks before his group comes to collect him. “I look forward to your survival.”

You find yourself in the cafeteria, stuffing snacks into the pockets of your cardigan for later before grabbing a drink and something to eat right then. Banda is sitting against the wall, staring ahead at Chishiya as you sit beside him. A pack of cookies lands in his lap — Banda doesn’t flinch as he peels the snack open and begins to eat it.

“Do you have to stare?” You mumble. Matsushita hadn’t returned from his bathroom break yet and you found relief in his absence. Another chip is placed in your mouth as you glare at Banda  — he was still staring Chishiya’s way. “You have a crush on him or somethin’?”

Before he could answer, a body is slammed next to yours. Looking down, you see a man sweating and crying as another looms over him menacingly. Banda slides up beside you, whispering a small, “lie to him.” in the man’s ear. You look away from them and see Chishiya looking at you again, judgment clouding his eyes as you don’t speak up against Banda.

You grumble, “already startin’ shit and we just got here.” 

“The game had to start sometime.”

As time passes, players dwindle slowly until the number hastens. There are only six of you left now — Chishiya’s partner couldn’t handle the pressure of the games, it seemed. Banda and Matsushita tell you your symbol — “club.” — before Banda breaks away from your group. You can feel the former’s eyes on you as you take sips from your drink, unnerving every inch of your skin. He interrupts the silence with a brutal curveball. “He’s lying to you, Banda. Your symbol is spade.”

“Why would he lie to me?”

“Maybe he thinks you’re the Jack,” Matsushita grins. Then he shrugs and leans against the wall beside you. “Or maybe he’s the Jack and is just trying to get rid of you. Who knows.”

You hum, tilting your head playfully. Of course you don’t believe him — strangely, you hadn’t doubted Banda since you got here. “What a waste. After we stayed allies for so long, he’d choose to get rid of me now?”

Matsushita’s eyes widen briefly at the new information before he snickers. “What a waste, indeed. Guess he doesn't cherish your friendship after all.” 

Walking away from the liar, you find yourself alone in the cafeteria. Well, you thought you were alone — Chishiya announced himself by reaching beside you for a pack of crackers. “Running around without your guard dog now, hm?”

“You can't talk,” you respond. “All alone, lingering around here like a ghost. Spooky.”

Your back is to the shelf of food as Chishiya begins to crowd your space. He hums while pouting his bottom lip, looking everywhere but you. “How’d you end up with Banda anyways? You were on your way to meet me.”

“We made a deal,” you shrug. By the tilt of your voice and raise of your eyebrows, Chishiya knows you’re lying. He stands quietly, taking one step closer to you. “Okay, fine. I threatened him and demanded we team up.”

“Of course you threatened a murderer.” Chishiya lets out a laugh just as the five minute warning echoes around the prison. He tugs on the cardigan you’re wearing, eyes softening at the sight of the worn fabric. “Think this is mine.”

“It might be,” you push off of the shelf and side-step the blond. You catch a glimpse of Chishiya’s symbol and are opening your mouth before you can think. “It’s diamond, by the way. Your suit.”

“Yours is club.” You nod in confirmation and it piques Chishiya’s interest. “Someone tell you different?”

“Matsushita tried to say Banda was lying to me. But, Banda knows better,” you glare. “I’ll break his kneecaps if he tries to kill me.”

Chishiya’s quiet laugh seems to echo in the desolate cell. It’s all you can think about — all you can remember as your fingers dance along the knit cardigan you’re wearing. After this — if you survive this game — you want to go home. You want to go back with Chishiya and watch that movie you were supposed to meet at.

It’s no surprise to see Matsushita being cornered by the three others. He did freak you out  — and he tried to get you killed. You eye his frightened expression lifelessly before speaking. “Can we take those snacks downstairs with us? I ran out of food a few days ago.”

— BONUS —

You’re sitting beside Chishiya’s hospital bed as the news begins. Absent-mindedly, you hand him a slice of the fruit you were eating as the news reporter begins to speak. A picture of a convict pops up along with the news story. “...Banda is still missing. We are asking everyone to be cautious and be safe. We’ll have the week’s weather up next.” 

“You know…” you narrow your eyes at the picture of the man. Something about him looks familiar — it sends a tingle of awareness through your mind the longer you stare. “I think I could take that guy in a fight.”

Chishiya turns his head to you stiffly, furrowing his eyebrows. “He’s a serial killer, [name].”

You shrug, “I could do it.”

— ♧ ♡ ♢ ♤ — this wasn’t really fluffy or romantic but i wanted to write a goofy n playful reader so <3 might b posting an aib series soon, so keep an eye out for that! forever taglist : @straysugzhpe​ & @star2fishmeg​ <<33

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

[thepencilnerd]

Scary Love

summary: Chishiya is a doctor whose world is turned upside down when a patient is rushed into the hospital after a devastating accident. As you are whisked past him into the ER, he becomes captivated by the intoxicating scent of your blood, igniting a primal hunger within him. Despite battling the insatiable urge to claim you as his own, he realizes in that moment that he must have you—at any cost. word count: 9.3k genre: Vampire!Doctor!Chishiya AU, horror, paranormal, angst warnings: toxic relationship, obsessive, manipulative, and possessive behavior, blood-drinking/sharing a/n: I am vampire trash; complete fic posted here :) - inspired by @aliceinborderlandsquidgame's post <3 full moodboards here ;)

The fluorescent lights of the hospital flickered, casting a sickly glow over the linoleum floors. Chishiya Shuntaro had grown numb to the sterile scent of antiseptic and the low hum of machinery, his steps echoing with a detached rhythm as he made his rounds. His pale fingers flicked through patient charts with the same indifference, a façade of professionalism masking a complete lack of investment in the lives he was supposed to save. He was a doctor because it passed the time, and time was his greatest enemy—a relentless, never-ending stretch that blurred the line between life and death.

It had been centuries since he had felt a spark of genuine curiosity. No patient had ever captured his attention; their faces all blended together, just like the fading lights and the indistinguishable corridors.

Until now.

Chaos broke out suddenly. “Incoming! Trauma, we need the ER prepped, now!” The doors flew open, and a stretcher burst through, surrounded by frantic doctors and nurses. The air changed, thickening with tension and something else—something that pulled Chishiya to a halt.

Then, he smelled it.

The coppery, tantalizing aroma hit him like a shockwave, making the blood in his own veins pulse with a long-forgotten hunger. It wasn’t just the scent of any blood—it was yours. Rich and intoxicating, it seeped into the sterile hospital air, spreading like a thick mist, curling its way around his senses. For the first time in years, something surged inside him—no, not something, but someone.

You.

As they whisked you past him, your pale, bloodstained form nearly limp on the stretcher, his muscles tightened against a primal urge. He pressed his wrist to his nose, but it did little to muffle the smell. The veins beneath his skin darkened and bulged, his fangs pushing against his gums. Hunger clawed at him, vicious and demanding. He almost doubled over as the shift threatened to take him right there, nearly exposing the angel of death he truly was in this place that was supposed to be a sanctuary of life.

The doctors were still shouting orders, oblivious to his struggle. They didn’t notice the way his eyes followed your body, transfixed as you disappeared behind the swinging doors of the trauma room. The chaotic rhythm of the hospital seemed to slow, all sounds fading except for the maddening yet weakening beat of your pulse. You were dying. And if you died now, he would never taste you—never experience that exquisite fire as your blood coursed through him, burning away the boredom that had settled in his bones like rot.

No. You couldn’t die. He wouldn’t allow it.

Inside the trauma room, the staff’s desperation grew as your condition worsened. “Where’s the trauma specialist?” a nurse shouted, panic fraying the edge of her voice. Another doctor shook his head, hurriedly checking his phone. “Not on call,” he replied, his tone laced with frustration. “We need someone now, or we’ll lose them.”

It was the opportunity Chishiya had been waiting for.

“I’ll take over,” he said, his voice slicing through the chaos with an unsettling calm. His eyes glinted with a purpose no one else in the room could fathom. A few heads turned, doubt flickering across the other doctors' faces, but there was no time to debate. Lives were at stake, and Chishiya’s reputation as a skilled, if unorthodox, surgeon had never been questioned.

As the son of the chief and owner of the hospital, he had a certain authority that made it nearly impossible for anyone to challenge him, not that they could. His cold, calculated precision as a doctor was unquestionable; he was known for making the right call in dire situations. The other doctors exchanged hesitant glances, aware of his lineage and the weight it carried.

Chishiya had chosen surgery because it was the place where life and death hung in the balance, where the line between salvation and demise blurred into one. It was the only place where he found any semblance of stimulation, where his own indifference toward life could be masked by the sharp focus and swift precision that surgery demanded. He held no sentimental notions about saving lives; for him, each procedure was simply another test of skill, a challenge to pass the time.

The truth was, Chishiya didn’t care whether his patients lived or died. He had spent too many lifetimes watching people come and go, their lives flickering out like so many dying stars. Life, with all its fragility and unpredictability, held little meaning for him. But in the operating room, as scalpels sliced and sutures stitched, there was a fleeting thrill—a momentary exhilaration that came with deciding who would cross back over from the brink of death, and who would not. It was in that precarious dance that he found a reason to continue his own unending existence.

And now, as he stood over your bloodied body, he felt something he hadn’t felt in centuries—a stirring of genuine desire. Not to save you, but to possess you. The scent of your blood had gripped him in a way that defied his otherwise indifferent nature, as though it held a promise that could reignite the fire that had long gone cold in his veins.

With a newfound resolve, he pushed forward, gliding into the awaiting trauma room with an unnatural, quiet grace. He was greeted by a flurry of activity: doctors barking out commands, nurses adjusting IV lines, and the faint, steady beep of the heart monitor.

Your heartbeat. Weak, fluttering. But still alive.

Chishiya could see the crimson staining your skin, pooling around the gaping wounds that painted your body. His gaze fixated on the deepest gash, almost losing himself in the way your blood glistened under the harsh lights. It took everything in him to not lean over and taste it. He gritted his teeth, his fangs aching against his gums, and forced his gaze upward, meeting your half-lidded eyes for the briefest moment. Even though you were barely conscious, something flickered in your gaze, a spark of recognition—or perhaps, instinctual fear.

But he wasn’t here to save you because it was his duty as a doctor. No, it was far more selfish than that. It was the first time in his endless life that he had felt compelled to possess something—someone. He needed to keep you alive, not for your sake, but for his own. Because in that fleeting moment when your blood had perfumed the air, he had felt alive again.

The doctor in him barked orders for blood transfusions, sutures, whatever was necessary to keep you from slipping away. But the predator within already had plans far darker than anyone in that room could fathom. When you woke, if you woke, you would be his—his to heal, break, drain, turn, to keep. Your blood was his now, and he would not rest until every drop had quenched his thirst. 

The darkness around you was heavy, a suffocating fog that clung to your senses as you struggled to break free. Gradually, the world returned in pieces—muted beeping, the sterile scent of antiseptic, and an ache that radiated throughout your entire body. Your eyelids fluttered open, and bright fluorescent lights blurred into focus. You were in a hospital bed, a grey blanket draped loosely over your body, and the rhythmic beep of the heart monitor kept pace with your sluggish pulse. 

You blinked, taking in the unfamiliar room. It was quiet, save for the soft hum of the machines. A vague memory of chaos resurfaced—voices shouting, hands pressing down to stop the bleeding, and the overwhelming sensation of slipping away. But now, you were still here, alive. How?

The sound of footsteps pulled you from your haze. A figure stepped into view, and the sight of him made your breath hitch in your throat. He was beautiful—hauntingly so. Pale skin that almost seemed to glow under the harsh lights, juxtaposed by his jet-black hair, sharp features softened only by the faintest curl of his lips, and eyes so dark they could swallow you whole. There was a strange magnetism to him, a pull that made it impossible to look away.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he said, his voice low and calm, yet laced with an edge of something you couldn’t quite place. His gaze flickered over your form, as though assessing you, and a faint, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You gave us quite a scare.”

You swallowed, your throat dry and raw. “W-where am I?” you managed to croak.

“You’re in the hospital,” he replied, stepping closer to your bedside. “You had a nasty accident, but you’re stable now. I was able to take over your case.”

There was a glint in his eye, a darkness that contrasted with the reassuring tone in his voice. Something about him felt… different. You couldn’t shake the sense that his presence wasn’t just happenstance. It was almost as if he had chosen to be here, with you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, but there was an inexplicable allure that made you lean into that fear rather than shy away from it.

“You’re my doctor?” you asked, the words coming out softer than you intended.

He inclined his head, his gaze never leaving yours. “Yes,” he said smoothly. “Dr. Shuntaro Chishiya. I’ll be overseeing your recovery from here on out.” His fingers lightly grazed your wrist as he reached for the chart at the foot of your bed, and the touch sent a faint jolt through you, waking something you couldn’t quite name.

You didn’t know how long you stared at him, only that you felt an odd flutter in your chest—a mix of fascination and trepidation. There was something intense about the way he looked at you, as if you were a puzzle he was in no rush to solve. Or a prize he had all the time in the world to claim.

He continued to speak, explaining your injuries and the procedures they’d performed, but you couldn’t focus on his words. All you could think about was how close he stood, how captivating his voice was, and how each syllable seemed to wrap around you like a velvet chain. There was an energy about him that made you feel exposed, vulnerable, as if you were being seen in ways you didn’t fully understand.

“Why did you…” you began, then hesitated, your brow furrowing. “How did you take over?”

"Wrong place, right time." His eyes flashed with a hint of amusement, but his expression remained impassive. “Let’s just say,” he murmured, his tone dropping lower, “that I have a vested interest in seeing you recover.” His lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “After all, I went to such great lengths to keep you alive. It would be a shame to let all that effort go to waste, wouldn’t it?”

The words sent a chill through you, and yet, some part of you was drawn to the danger in his voice, to the mystery that surrounded him. You could feel your pulse quickening, and from the way his gaze lingered on you, you had the unsettling suspicion that he could sense it too.

Chishiya had saved your life. And as you lay there under his watchful gaze, you felt a strange comfort in the knowledge that this beautiful, almost ethereal doctor had taken a special interest in you. His words wrapped around you like a soothing balm, pushing back the panic that had threatened to take hold.

“You must rest now,” he murmured, his tone gentle yet firm. “The road to recovery won’t be easy, but I’ll be here every step of the way.” He leaned over to adjust the drip in your IV line, his movements calm and practiced. When his fingers brushed against your wrist, a spark seemed to shoot through your veins, making your pulse flutter in response. You told yourself it was only the aftermath of the accident, the lingering adrenaline playing tricks on your mind.

The corners of his lips twitched, as though he was holding back a secret, but there was nothing in his expression that gave you reason to question him. The hospital room was silent except for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor, and you were suddenly aware of how loudly your pulse echoed in the space between you. You had the unsettling suspicion that he could hear it too, his eyes tracking the faint rise and fall of your chest, as if to confirm that life was still coursing through you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice almost inaudible. “I… I don’t know what would’ve happened if—”

“Shh,” he interrupted, his voice dropping to a soft murmur as he leaned closer. “You don’t need to thank me.” The way he looked at you made your skin prickle with an inexplicable heat. “It’s my job, after all,” he added, but there was something unspoken behind the words—something that made your heart skip a beat.

Your scent washed over him in a maddening wave. It was faintly metallic, laced with the lingering traces of blood and the sweetness of your natural aroma. It wrapped around him like a drug, igniting a hunger he had been suppressing since the moment he first caught your scent in the trauma room. He clenched his jaw to keep his composure, forcing his body to remain still, but every cell screamed for him to close the distance, to taste you.

For a moment, you wondered why he had taken over your case. Surely there were other doctors who could have handled your injuries. But those thoughts melted away as quickly as they had come, dissolving under the intensity of his gaze. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe it was just fate that had brought him to you in that critical moment. 

As he straightened up and began to walk toward the door, you found yourself not wanting him to leave. “Will I… see you again?” you asked, almost embarrassed by the urgency in your voice.

Chishiya’s gaze flickered briefly to the pulse in your neck, his thoughts dark and dangerous. The rhythm was elevated, stronger than when you had been clinging to life on the operating table. Each beat seemed to resonate in the air, taunting him with the warmth that coursed through your veins. He could feel the veins under his skin begin to swell, the familiar ache of his fangs pushing against his gums. It was taking every ounce of his willpower not to lean in and press his lips to your skin, to sink his teeth in and finally experience the intoxicating concoction of your blood.

He took a slow, deliberate breath, letting the hunger roil beneath the surface as he forced himself to focus on the here and now. He couldn’t lose control—not yet. There would be time for that later, when you were stronger, when you trusted him enough to let down your guard. But for now, he needed to play the role of the devoted doctor, the savior who had plucked you from death’s grasp.

He glanced back at you with a faint, almost cryptic smile. “Oh, you will,” he said, his tone hinting at a promise. “I’ll be keeping a very close eye on your progress.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving you alone with a feeling you couldn’t quite name. You didn’t know why, but the thought of him watching over you, being there each day, brought an odd sense of comfort—even if it was laced with something darker that you couldn’t yet understand.

You closed your eyes, exhaustion pulling you under once more, unaware that Chishiya’s promise had far deeper implications than you could have ever imagined.

Days passed in a blur of routine and quiet moments, the sterile monotony of the hospital broken only by Chishiya’s daily visits. He would appear at your bedside with an easy grace, carrying trays of food or cups of tea that were far better than the bland hospital meals. It wasn’t his duty to bring you such things, but he always insisted, saying it was no trouble at all.

“You need your strength,” he’d say with a faint smile, setting the food down before pulling up a chair to sit beside you. “And the hospital’s kitchen could use some improvement.”

At first, you thought he was simply being polite—going above and beyond to reassure you in the wake of the trauma. But as days turned into a week, then two, his presence became a comforting constant. He would linger, taking time out of his rounds to talk, asking you questions about your life before the accident. You found yourself opening up in ways you hadn’t expected, sharing small stories and fragments of your past. It felt natural, effortless. Almost as if he were more of a friend than your doctor.

And then, there were the moments where you caught him looking at you—not with the detached concern of a physician, but with an intensity that sent a warm flutter through your chest. It was in the way his dark eyes would linger just a little too long, or how his voice would soften when he asked how you were feeling. He had an aura of mystery, a quiet depth that drew you in, making you curious to know more about him.

“Why did you decide to become a doctor?” you asked one afternoon, after he’d brought you a bowl of soup. “You don’t seem like the type.”

He raised an eyebrow, setting the tray down. “And what type is that?” There was a hint of amusement in his tone, though his expression remained inscrutable.

“I don’t know,” you replied, suddenly feeling a bit foolish. “It’s just… you’re different. Not like the other doctors.”

“Different?” he echoed, his lips curving into a small, enigmatic smile. “I suppose I am.”

Chishiya’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, as if weighing his response. “Well,” he began, his tone thoughtful, “I suppose it’s not entirely unlike the others. The desire to help people… to make a difference.” His lips curved into a faint smile. “But it’s not always about saving lives. Sometimes it’s about giving people a second chance.”

There was a strange, almost wistful note to his voice, as though he were speaking from some place deeper than his words suggested. “When you see someone on the brink,” he continued, his gaze drifting to the window, “when they’re standing at the edge between life and death… you realize how fragile it all is. Being a doctor means you get to be there at those moments. You get to decide if someone gets to come back.”

He glanced back at you then, his eyes dark and inscrutable. “I suppose there’s something… meaningful about that.”

The explanation sounded genuine enough, but there was an elusive quality to his words, as if he were hiding something behind them. It was almost as if he were playing a part, reciting the lines expected of someone in his profession, but with a subtle twist that hinted at a deeper, unspoken truth. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he had deliberately left out the real reason, that there was something more lurking beneath the surface. But the way he spoke, with such conviction and calmness, made it hard to question him.

“Meaningful,” you echoed, considering his words. “That makes sense, I guess.”

Chishiya’s smile deepened ever so slightly, though his eyes remained as shadowed as ever. “It does,” he murmured, his voice dipping into that familiar quiet cadence that you had come to associate with him. “At least, that’s what I tell myself.”

He didn’t offer more, and you didn’t press, but it left you wondering. Who was he, really? There was so much about him that seemed out of place, as though he didn’t quite belong here in this world of beeping machines and sterile white walls. But those questions seemed to fade when he was around, replaced by a sense of ease you hadn’t felt in a long time.

One day, when he brought you a book from the hospital’s library—an old novel you’d mentioned wanting to read—your heart stirred with a flutter of warmth. He had remembered. You hadn’t even been sure he’d been listening when you’d said it in passing, yet here he was, handing the book to you as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I thought you might like something to occupy your time,” he said, his tone casual, but there was a faint glint of satisfaction in his eyes, as though he took pleasure in your surprise.

“Thank you,” you murmured, glancing down at the cover. “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“It was no trouble,” he replied, settling into the chair beside your bed. “Besides, I like to see you smile.”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks at the words, your fingers tightening around the book’s spine. He spoke so easily, as though they were just another fact. And yet, there was a sincerity there that made your heart quicken. The two of you continued to talk, falling into the familiar rhythm of conversation, but now there was an unspoken bond between you—a connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

As you laughed at one of his dry, almost cynical jokes, you realized just how much you’d come to look forward to his visits. He wasn’t just your doctor anymore. He was the person who brought light into the sterile stillness, whose presence made the days feel shorter and the nights less lonely.

You didn’t know when it had happened—when his daily visits had stopped being just a part of your recovery and had become the best part of your day. But it didn’t seem to matter. All you knew was that when Chishiya was there, everything felt… different. Better, even. And the thought of him not being there once you were discharged sent a quiet pang of dread through you.

You brushed the thought aside, telling yourself there would be time to worry about that later. For now, you were content to let things unfold, to savor the way his voice filled the silence, and to lose yourself in the captivating mystery of the doctor who had saved your life—and somehow, made you want to keep living it.

But as the days passed, there were moments—fleeting and faint—where you would catch a shadow in his eyes, or feel a strange chill in the air. Little things that seemed out of place, that made you wonder if there was more to him than he let on. If there was a reason why he seemed so invested in you, in ways that went beyond what any doctor should be.

You told yourself it was nothing. It had to be. But in the depths of your mind, a voice you couldn’t quite silence began to murmur. There was something about him—something hidden beneath the calm exterior, behind the kind words and soothing touch. And while part of you yearned to understand him, to get closer and unravel the enigma he presented, another part recoiled, sensing danger in the allure.

You brushed the thought aside again, convincing yourself that there was no harm in letting things unfold a little longer. You were drawn to him, captivated by the man who had breathed life back into you when you had come so close to losing it. Whatever else lingered beneath the surface could wait.

Chishiya leaned against the wall, watching you sleep with a predatory intensity that belied his calm demeanor. The sterile light of the hospital room bathed you in a soft glow, illuminating the delicate contours of your face, the way your lips parted slightly as you breathed. It was a picture of innocence, and yet, he knew better.

Each night, as you drifted into unconsciousness, he had taken it upon himself to ensure your recovery. He would enter your room with a careful quietness, his heart racing with anticipation. The blood he had transfused into your veins was his own—rich, dark, and heady. With every drop, he watched as your body healed at an extraordinary rate, responding to his unique gift in a way that no ordinary human’s could.

But it was more than just healing. With each transfusion, he wove a delicate web around your mind, guiding your thoughts, dulling your instincts, and filling your dreams with vivid images of him—of the two of you together, as if fate had conspired to bring you closer. It was a power he had grown accustomed to wielding, the ability to shape your perception, to cloud your judgment, and to eliminate any lingering doubts that might threaten to disrupt his carefully laid plans.

Tonight, he felt particularly bold, his blood coursing through your veins like a gentle whisper. As he knelt beside your bed, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, letting his fingers linger against your skin. The cool touch sent a shiver down his spine, and he felt a familiar urge rise within him—the insatiable hunger that had first drawn him to you. But he pushed it down, focusing instead on the connection he shared with you in that moment.

Closing his eyes, he concentrated, delving deep into your subconscious. The edges of your dreams were malleable, a landscape he could shape and mold to his liking. He wove his essence into the fabric of your thoughts, allowing himself to seep into every corner of your mind. You would find him there, in the laughter of shared moments and the warmth of stolen glances—never questioning, never doubting.

With every drop of his blood you took in, he could almost taste you—sweet and intoxicating, a tantalizing blend of life and vulnerability. Each transfusion deepened the bond between you, intertwining your fates in a way that transcended mere human comprehension. It was an unspoken pact, a mingling of blood that forged a connection so profound that it felt as if your very souls were entwined.

Chishiya reveled in the sensation, the way your body responded to his essence, healing at an accelerated pace. It wasn’t just a matter of recovering from injury; it was about forging something extraordinary, something that no one else could ever touch. With every heartbeat, he could feel your pulse syncing with his, an intimate rhythm that resonated deep within him. He no longer felt like an observer in your life; he was becoming a part of it, an intrinsic element of your very being.

As he navigated the landscape of your dreams, he could almost hear the echo of your thoughts. They were softer, gentler, reshaped by his influence. Fears and doubts that might have surfaced were quelled, replaced by feelings of safety and warmth whenever you thought of him. It was as if he had woven a soft blanket around your mind, lulling you into a state of trust that was as intoxicating as the blood flowing through your veins.

In those moments, he knew you could sense him. You would smile in your sleep, murmur his name as if it were a mantra, and he would feel a surge of triumph course through him. You were blissfully unaware of the truth, caught in the web of his enchantment. Chishiya rejoiced in the knowledge that he was the architect of your dreams, the keeper of your heart.

Your connection went beyond the physical; it was spiritual, primal, a merging of souls that would leave scars on both of you, forever binding you to him. As he watched you drift deeper into slumber, he felt the weight of his own immortality pressing against his chest. In you, he found something he thought he would never experience again—a reason to embrace the world and all its fragility.

Every time you took in his blood, he was there, living within you, and he could feel the bond solidifying, deepening into something admantine. With every transfusion, you became more of his and he, more of you. It was a dance of life and death, and Chishiya savored each step, each shared heartbeat, each lingering glance that tied you together in a way that transcended the boundaries of life itself.

In that silence of the night, with you sleeping soundly before him, he made another silent vow: he would protect you, not just from the world but from yourself, ensuring that you would never question the depths of your connection. After all, he had given you life, and now he intended to keep you, to possess you wholly, in a way that no one else could ever understand.

“Sleep well, Y/N,” he whispered softly, the words brushing against the boundary of your dreamscape. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, the contact felt like electricity. “I’ll always be here, watching over you.”

As he settled into the rhythm of your dreams, he felt a thrill of satisfaction wash over him. You were his, bound to him by blood and desire, your fate intertwined with his own. The world outside faded away, replaced by a reality he controlled—where every beat of your heart resonated with his own, and every sigh you breathed echoed with the promise of what was to come.

In your slumber, you would never suspect the truth. You would remain blissfully unaware of the shadows lurking beneath his charm, the darkness that fueled his desire. And while you thought you were healing, he knew the truth: he was ensnaring you deeper under his spell, inch by tantalizing inch.

And the best part? You would never question it.

As the days turned into weeks, you found comfort in the routine that Chishiya established. He would arrive each day with a new meal, often sharing stories of his life that drew you in like a moth to a flame. His voice, smooth and enchanting, would fill the room, replacing the sterile sounds of beeping machines with warmth and familiarity. You felt safe in his presence, as if he alone understood the fragility of life.

"Have you ever thought about what comes after all of this?" he asked one afternoon, his eyes dark with something deeper. “After you’re healed?”

You looked up, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. "Not really. I guess I just want to get back to my life." But the truth was, you had started to wonder if your life could ever be the same again—especially with Chishiya so close, making every moment feel more vivid.

"Life has a way of changing us," he replied, his lips curling into a smile that sent shivers down your spine. "You might find that what you once wanted pales in comparison to what you could have."

The way he spoke, it felt as if he were weaving a spell around you, tantalizing and entrancing. You brushed the thought aside, unable to shake the feeling that he knew more than he let on. But the sensation faded like mist, replaced by the warmth of his presence.

That night, as you drifted into sleep, you could feel his essence lingering in your dreams. Vivid images danced before you—Chishiya laughing, his eyes sparkling with mischief, as you shared moments of joy that felt almost too perfect. Each time you murmured his name in your sleep, a thrill of satisfaction coursed through him, binding you closer to him, reinforcing the invisible ties of your connection.

Yet, in the corners of your mind, shadows lurked—brief flickers of doubt that would evaporate like smoke when Chishiya was near. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to him, a depth that both intrigued and unnerved you. But every time you reached for the questions, they slipped away like grains of sand, like they were never there. 

One night, sleep enveloped you like a thick fog, and you drifted into a dream that felt more like a waking nightmare. The atmosphere was heavy, suffused with a gothic eeriness that settled over your senses, and you found yourself wandering through the dimly lit corridors of the hospital. The walls seemed to pulse with a life of their own, shadows flickering just beyond the edges of your vision.

As you wandered, flashes of memories flickered in and out, disjointed yet vivid. You saw Chishiya standing at the entrance of your hospital room the night you were admitted, a sly smile on his lips as he volunteered to take you as his patient. His confidence radiated in the sterile air, and there was something unsettling about the way his gaze lingered on you, as if he knew exactly what he was doing.

Then the scene shifted, and you were back in your room, the moonlight spilling through the window, casting eerie shapes across the floor. Chishiya was there, but he seemed different—more predatory. You watched as he stood silently beside your bed, his eyes fixed on you, a certain hunger swirling within them.

Suddenly, the dream twisted darker. You found yourself an unwilling observer of a horrifying act—Chishiya leaning over your sleeping form, an IV drip connected to your arm, his fingers deftly removing the tubing. In an instant, he was sucking on the end, your blood shimmering on his lips, glistening like the black nectar of forbidden fruit under the moonlight.

You tried to scream, but no sound escaped your lips as you witnessed the scene unfold. The veins beneath his eyes rippled, the whites of his eyes stained a pure crimson, a macabre reminder of the life he was stealing from you and the revealing of his true form. It was both mesmerizing and terrifying.

The sight of him licking your blood from his fingers sent a chill down your spine, refusing to waste a drop, the hunger in his gaze unmistakable. "Fuck," he murmured, his voice a sultry whisper that wrapped around you like chains, binding you to the horror before you. The twisted intimacy of the moment felt suffocating, and you could sense the bond he was forging—one that tethered your very essence to his.

Chishiya’s movements were deliberate and eerily calm as he reached for a bag of blood, the contents dark and viscous, far blacker than anything human. 

His blood. 

You felt your heart race, pounding against your chest like a trapped bird. Panic surged within you, but it was accompanied by an unsettling sense of familiarity, as though this was all part of a dream you had been too naive to realize. You felt the suffocating weight of his gaze, the thrill of danger mingling with an inexplicable attraction.

And then, just as abruptly, the dream shattered. You woke up, gasping for breath, the echoes of terror still reverberating in your mind. Your heart raced as you glanced around your hospital room, the soft beeping of machines grounding you in reality. But the image of Chishiya—the blood, the hunger—clung to you like a shroud.

Shaking off the remnants of the nightmare, you tried to rationalize it away. Perhaps it was just your subconscious playing tricks on you, an exaggerated reflection of the vulnerability you felt. Yet, as you lay there in the dark, a shiver ran down your spine. There was a whisper of truth in the darkness, an inkling that perhaps you didn’t know Chishiya as well as you thought you did.

The idea that you were entangled in something far more sinister than you could comprehend lingered at the edges of your mind. As you clutched the sheets tightly, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadows were closing in, and it was only a matter of time before the truth would surface.

But for now, you would push those thoughts aside, retreating into the safety of your dreams, even as the haunting memories of the night left you trembling in its wake.

Before you knew it, the morning sun peeked through the blinds. You blinked away the remnants of sleep and turned your head to find Chishiya sitting in the corner of the room, his gaze fixed intently on you. His presence was both a comfort and a source of unease, and you felt a knot tighten in your stomach.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he greeted, his voice smooth as silk, but there was an undercurrent of something darker beneath his calm demeanor. “How are you feeling?” 

You forced a smile, attempting to mask the tremor in your heart. “I—uh, I had a strange dream.”

His interest piqued, and for a brief moment, the usual amusement flickered in his eyes. “Strange how?” he asked, leaning forward, his posture relaxed yet attentive.

The memory of your nightmare washed over you, but you hesitated to divulge its true nature. “Just… odd,” you replied, choosing your words carefully. “Nothing to worry about, I guess.”

Chishiya studied you, a calculating expression on his face. There was a silence that stretched between you, thick with unspoken words. The lingering fear from your dream wrestled with the reality of his presence, and you felt the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, searching for something—answers, perhaps, or the cracks in your facade.

He nodded slowly, as if weighing your response. “Dreams can be powerful things. Sometimes, they reveal what we’re truly feeling, even when we don’t want them to.”

His words sent a chill through you, resonating with the unease that had taken root in your chest. You felt like a moth drawn to a flame, teetering on the edge of enlightenment while also fearful of the depths it could reveal. The shadows of your dream flitted in your mind, reminding you of the danger lurking behind his charming exterior.

“Did you remember anything specific?” he pressed, a hint of curiosity lacing his tone, as if he were a predator probing for weakness in his prey.

You shifted under his gaze, unwilling to disclose the true content of your nightmare. “Not really. Just… ghosts of memories, I suppose.”

His smile was sharp, as if he enjoyed the game you were playing, but the air felt heavy with tension. “Past experiences can hold great meaning,” he replied, the words laced with an enigmatic undertone. “But memories are also unreliable and simply serve as backbones for rumination.” 

You nodded, feeling the weight of his gaze bearing down on you. The shadows danced at the edge of your vision, and despite your efforts to shake off the remnants of your fear, you felt a chill crawl up your spine.

Chishiya’s expression remained inscrutable as he regarded you for a moment longer, then he straightened, the tension in the air shifting. “You need rest,” he said, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “I’ll be back soon.”

With that, he turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. You were left in the soft hum of the machines, the silence amplifying your thoughts. Looking up at your IV bags, they were clear—no blood. A wave of unease washed over you, and you instinctively reached for the line, feeling the cold plastic against your skin. It was strange, unsettling, as if the absence of his blood—if your crazy dream had any basis in reality—was somehow a void that left the air heavy with unsaid words.

Outside, Chishiya leaned against the wall, taking a deep breath to center himself. He was acutely aware of the nightmare that had haunted you; it had been no accident. By withholding his usual compulsion last night, he had intended to see how much you knew—how aware you had become of the threads connecting you both.

He knew you had glimpsed the darkness lurking beneath the surface, the unsettling truths about your bond. The look of horror on your face as you witnessed his true form had been exhilarating yet worrying. He knew had to act before those fears took root and blossomed into doubt.

Chishiya pondered his next move. You were already beginning to piece together the puzzle, and that was commendable. But he needed to ensure that your trust in him was absolute. The last thing he wanted was for you to start questioning your reality or, worse, seeking out the truth beyond the lies he had crafted.

It was time to tighten the bonds that tied you to him. He could feel the connection deepening with each passing day, but now he needed to escalate things, to ensure you remained ensnared in his web. He couldn’t let you slip through his fingers.

His mind raced with possibilities, each more tantalizing than the last. The idea of bringing you deeper into his world, of showing you the true nature of your connection, thrilled him. He envisioned guiding you through the shadows, illuminating the dark corners of your mind, and transforming your fear into blind acceptance—for eternity. 

For the next few days, Chishiya adopted a calculated distance, allowing a careful space to grow between you. It was a tactic, one designed to cultivate a longing in you, to ignite a sense of loss that would render you desperate for his presence. He had learned long ago that desire, once kindled, could burn hotter than any flame.

During the day, he was a ghost, slipping in and out of the hospital like a shadow, his interactions minimal yet charged. You caught glimpses of him from afar—his laughter mingling with the nurses, his easy demeanor drawing people in. But when night fell, you would drift into dreams steeped in his essence, each encounter filled with a vividness that left you breathless.

While you slept, he entered your subconscious like a thief in the night, weaving a tapestry of sensations and emotions that rendered you utterly enthralled. He didn't need to compel you; instead, he sparked a craving within, igniting a hunger that pulsed in your veins. You would dream of him standing in the doorway of your room, his presence a beacon of light amidst the dark, a sweet reminder of everything you were missing.

You often awoke in the middle of the night, heart racing, yearning for him. The emptiness of the room felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the warmth of his gaze that lingered in your memory. Each day without him felt like a slow unraveling, the world outside your window dimming without his touch.

Your nights became a blend of fragmented dreams where he danced just out of reach, a haunting melody that pulled at your heart. You felt the ache of longing settle deep within you, a relentless pulse that begged for his return. It was as if he had planted seeds of desire in the fertile ground of your mind, nurturing them with whispered promises that echoed through your dreams.

“Chishiya?” you would murmur, a question directed at the void that seemed to mock you. The silence that followed felt heavy, yet a part of you knew he was there, lurking just beyond the veil of your awareness, savoring your fragility.

Throughout the daytime, you tried to focus on your recovery, but his absence haunted you, lurking at the edges of your thoughts like an unwelcome specter. You walked around the hospital, taking small strides that felt like victories in your healing journey. Yet, each step felt heavy with the weight of longing, as you scanned the corridors for a glimpse of him. The nurses, concerned for your well-being, would occasionally check in, their gentle smiles unable to dispel the heaviness that clung to your heart. You found yourself restless, unable to shake the feeling that someone was missing. 

Chishiya’s grand plan unfolded beautifully. Each passing day, you became more attuned to the bond between you, the pull he had on your heart. You craved his presence, the way he made you feel—safe yet exhilarated, ensnared yet free. He was a paradox, a mixture of light and shadow, and you wanted to explore every facet of him.

One night, as you lay in the dim light of your room, the hospital quiet around you, he slipped back into your dreams. This time, he was more vivid than ever, stepping into the moonlight that filtered through your window, his eyes shining like liquid silver.

“Y/N,” he called softly, his voice a caress that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. 

In the dream, you reached for him, desperation clawing at your chest. “I need you,” you breathed, the words spilling from your lips before you could think to hold them back. The longing was palpable, a force that pulled you toward him.

Chishiya smiled, that predatory smile that sent shivers down your spine, and stepped closer. “Good,” he murmured, his voice a silken whisper. 

As you moved closer to him in the dream, the space between you vanished, and you felt the weight of his presence envelop you. The warmth radiating from him was intoxicating, igniting a fire within that had been smoldering since his absence.

“Don’t you see?” he continued, his gaze piercing into your soul. “You need me just as much as I need you.”

The intensity of his words resonated deep within you, igniting a longing so profound it was almost painful. You could feel your heart racing, your body aching for the connection you once shared. “I can’t live without you,” you whispered, fully aware of how much power he held over you.

A smile crept across his face, an expression that melded satisfaction with something darker. “Then let me show you what it truly means to surrender completely.”

He leaned closer, and the world around you blurred into a haze of color and sensation, the lines between reality and dreams merging until you felt as if you were suspended in a state of blissful oblivion. You surrendered to the pull of his essence, the bond between you solidifying with every heartbeat.

When you awoke the next morning, your heart was still racing, the remnants of the dream clinging to you like a silken web. The absence of Chishiya felt more profound than before, a hollow wound that begged to be filled. You could almost hear his voice echoing in your mind, whispering promises of connection and understanding.

As the day stretched on, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than the emptiness he had left behind. The nurses bustled around you, their chatter falling on deaf ears as your thoughts spiraled into an abyss of longing.

He had woven his influence into the fabric of your very being, and you felt more entangled than ever. With every moment that passed, you realized you were no longer just a patient recovering in a hospital. You were a puppet, dancing on the strings he had crafted, and the desire to be near him pulled you inexorably closer to the edge of his world. 

But you didn’t care.

The only thing you wanted—needed—was Chishiya. 

That night, sleep was a treacherous companion, dragging you into the depths of a nightmare you couldn't escape. You were back on your bike, the world around you bright and carefree, until it shattered in an instant. The screeching of tires, the sickening crunch of metal, and the sudden pain that ripped through you were all too vivid. The memory of the accident clawed at your mind, the feeling of helplessness suffocating you. You saw the drunk driver’s face, a twisted mask of indifference, and felt the darkness creeping in as your consciousness faded.

Then came the familiar presence, a flicker of warmth amidst the cold terror—Chishiya had saved you. He had stitched you back together with modern medicine and healed you with his own blood. Every moment he spent by your side had been woven with an obsession that, in your shattered mind, felt like the purest form of love.

As you jolted awake, tears streamed down your cheeks, your body trembling with the weight of the realization. “Chishiya!” you sobbed, the name a desperate plea escaping your lips as you grasped at the darkness, willing him to emerge.

From the shadows, he appeared, an ethereal figure illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight filtering through your window. His eyes glinted with an intensity that set your heart racing. “I’m here, Y/N,” he murmured, gliding toward you with an unsettling grace. The moment you stood, he wrapped his arms around you, the world solidified, his presence anchoring you back to reality.

The gnawing urge inside you felt like poison, a slow death that throbbed with each heartbeat. The pain of his absence had become unbearable, a void that swallowed you whole. “I can’t live without you,” you whispered, the admission heavy on your tongue.

Chishiya pulled back slightly, his gaze piercing through you as he stroked your hair, soothing the tremors that wracked your body. “What would you be willing to do for me?” he asked, his voice a velvet caress that sent shivers down your spine.

“Anything,” you breathed, the word escaping your lips like a sacred vow.

“Would you live for me?” he pressed, his expression unwavering.

“Only with you,” you replied, the conviction in your voice growing stronger.

In that moment, he leaned closer, brushing his lips against the delicate skin of your neck. The sensation ignited something primal within you, a fire that surged through your veins. Then, without warning, he bit down, and a wave of pure ecstasy flooded every nerve in your body.

As Chishiya sank his fangs into your neck, a sensation unlike any other surged through him. The warmth of your blood flowed into him, rich and vibrant, igniting a hunger that had long been a shadow at the edge of his existence. It was a taste that transcended the mere physical; it was the essence of you, the very core of your being, submerging his senses with an exquisite euphoria he hadn't known he craved.

With every drop, he felt the ties between you solidify, weaving a bond that could never be broken even in death. The world outside faded into obscurity, leaving behind nothing but the rhythm of your heart and the potent pulse of your life force surging through him. This was not merely sustenance; it was a communion, a merging of souls that set his very essence ablaze.

He reveled in the taste, feeling it seep into his soul, satiating a deep hunger within that he had never fully understood. The sensation was overwhelming, and for a fleeting moment, all his thoughts dissolved into a singular focus: you. The connection deepened tenfold, intertwining your fates in a way that felt predestined. He was no longer just a watcher in the shadows; he was a part of you, and you were a part of him.

Every heartbeat resonated with the truth of your bond, a melody that played in harmony with the pulse of your blood. He drank deeper, savoring the intimacy of the moment, each heartbeat echoing the unspoken promise of loyalty, protection, and an unyielding devotion. You were his—enthralled and ensnared, bound by a love that was both beautiful and terrifying.

Your vision grew spotty, your heartrate slowing, your body melting into his arms like a puddle of surrender. The world around you faded away, leaving only the clarity of his presence—his warmth, his scent, the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

Chishiya’s grip tightened around you as he continued to drink, his fingers threading through your hair with a tenderness that belied the ferocity of his earlier actions. Finally, he pulled away, your blood covering his mouth and dripping down his chin. His eyes glowed red, piercing into you like liquid fire. 

“You’re mine,” he declared, the possessiveness in his tone igniting a flame deep within your core. With that proclamation, a sense of belonging surged through you—a realization that this was where you were meant to be.

“Will you stay with me?” Chishiya’s gaze bore into yours, searching for an answer, for affirmation. The intensity of his stare held you captive, and you felt the weight of his question settle deep within you.

“Always,” you breathed, the words spilling from your lips with a conviction that surprised even you. The promise hung between you like a delicate thread, binding your fates together in an intricate tapestry of love and darkness. Life ebbed away from you, your breaths growing shallow and your body cold.

He smiled, a wicked glint in his eyes that promised both pleasure and peril. With a swift motion, he bit into his wrist, the crimson liquid pooling at the wound. He took in a mouthful of his own blood, then captured your lips with his, coaxing you to drink.

Suddently, energy thrummed at the tips of your fingers, and instinctively, you brought your hands up to his face, holding him as he kissed new life into you. It was a rebirth, a metamorphosis that coursed through your veins like wildfire.

The metallic taste of his blood was soon replaced by something sweet and utterly indescribable, quenching a hunger you didn’t know you had until the moment his lips touched yours. With each passing second, your heartbeat grew stronger, intensifying the sensation and drawing you deeper into a realm where pleasure and pain intertwined seamlessly.

As the kiss lingered, the world around you faded even further, leaving only the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies entwined. You could feel the insatiable hunger swelling within you, demanding more. With a fervent need, you trailed soft kisses down his neck, inhaling his scent—irresistible and amplified. Every breath drew you closer to the edge of something carnal. 

In a surge of instinct, your teeth sank into the delicate skin of his neck. Chishiya let out a moan as his hands threaded into your hair, holding you tighter in his embrace. The taste of his blood mingled with the sweetness of your rebirth ignited a fire that surged through you. It was a delicious paradox, the push and pull of pleasure and hunger intertwining, leaving you gasping for more.

You could feel his heartbeat thrumming beneath your lips, each pulse a seductive rhythm that urged you on. With every swallow, your senses heightened, drawing you deeper into the essence of him. It was a dance of dominance and submission, a game where both of you were willing participants, losing yourselves in the moment.

Chishiya’s grip tightened, fingers curling around your nape as if to ground you, to keep you from drifting away in ecstasy. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice a sultry whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “Take what you need.”

The command sent a thrill through you, amplifying your desire. You bit down a little harder, savoring the rich, metallic flavor that flooded your senses, blending with the sweet, almost ambrosial undertones. It felt like power—his vulnerability in your hands, a delicious contrast to the control he had always held over you. 

As you pulled back, your eyes met his, and the intensity of his gaze nearly stole your breath. He leaned into you and kissed you once more, both of you licking whatever remnants of blood remained on each other’s lips. 

The implications of your actions hung in the air, promising a future steeped in darkness and unbridled passion. But in that moment, nothing else mattered—only the undeniable connection between you, the bond forged in blood and desire.

“Together,” you whispered, the vow escaping your lips like a prayer, a commitment to whatever darkness lay ahead.

His smile was wicked, full of promise and peril. “Always,” he replied, sealing your pact with a kiss that ignited every nerve ending in your body. It was a declaration of war against the mundane, a leap into the unknown where love and madness entwined like vines around a tree.

In that instant, you knew there was no turning back. You were his, and he was yours, the two of you entwined in a dance of desire that would take you both to the edge of oblivion and beyond.

thank you for reading <3

[archieimagines]

Imagine finding Niragi after the Beach.

first time writing aib! i haven't written in a while so i was definitely a little rusty, but i'll have more free time from now on so ideally the next ones will be better! warnings: niragi. a drastically unhealthy relationship (of course), niragi slander, burn injuries and gore, guns, problematic grief, mentions of massacre. if you have any triggers i doubt you'd want to even look at this man, apologies. requested by: @nonsocosamett3r3. can't tag, but i hope you see this! for now, aib requests are open! written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

The store was quiet, only tainted by the sound of lit gas heating your ramen and the quiet bubbling of the soup.

Your eyes fixed on the flame like it was magnetic. After the horrors of the Beach, something just drew you to it. That little flame…

Amazing.

Amazing how something so small could grow so big that it would engulf the whole resort. The whole community. Your whole future, and who you'd planned to spend it with.

You’d loved Suguru for so long, even before you’d arrived in this world. You’d vowed to love him as long as you were alive, but that was before he’d given into his brewing internal sickness.

It hurt too hard to think it. It utterly carved your heart to think that his only relief from himself might take fire and flames. The only way to be kind to him would be to let him die, and finally, it came. He was better off dead, and yet... you couldn’t help aching for him.

He was the one person you’d come into this with. The one person you knew you could trust. Even when he was at his worst. 

You shook your head. It wouldn’t do to dwell on how he’d protected you from the witch trial. How he’d given you a pistol and told you to hide on the roof. “Wait for me up there,” he’d said, a firm hand on your back to nudge you towards the stairs, his spare pistol pressed into your palms. “Anyone aims at you and they’re dead.”

Even at his worst, his most unhinged, he still took care of you. He was never all ba-

No. Thinking like this would only make it harder. You needed to focus on how he was a murderer, how he was manic, how he embodied all of humanity’s darkest traits. Perhaps then, you could function in this world without him.

A sigh. The cooker’s flame danced before you, and all you could see in your mind was Niragi. How the fire clung to him. How he screamed and thrashed—

You shut the gas off.

No, you couldn’t look at it. The flame.

The spices in the ramen no longer smelled good; they churned your stomach and the burn of suppressed tears sat in your sinuses. Your head dropped into your hands, the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes. You wouldn’t cry over him. He was a murderer. A sadistic, psychopathic, narcissistic—

A clatter behind you.

“Auh, phuck.”

Panic pushed you to your feet, your breath hitched. You’d perched in the homewares aisle with your campfire cooker, and wherever that distorted voice came from was barely two aisles back.

It was so dark, you were so tired, and so many people hated you. Not even through any fault of your own. You didn’t choose to love the most hated man at the Beach. You were an easy target and anyone who recognised you surely wouldn’t hesitate, so you grabbed for the pistol from your belt and readied yourself for an assault. You’d not die at the hands of an angry Beach resident tonight.

Slow footsteps took you through the store, startled every time you heard a grunt or a clash. Someone was rummaging through the shelves and audibly struggling.

The smash of a glass bottle on the floor, then a strained voice. “Phuckin ‘ell.”

You neared the corner of the aisle and peered around, pistol held out before you. You only hoped they couldn’t hear the trembling rattle of your hold on it.

What you saw was inconclusive. Someone with a flashlight held in their mouth, pointed at shelves full of medical wares. They struggled with gathering supplies, knocking them over instead and hissing in pain, but you couldn’t gather a single feature.

This was your chance to strike a new alliance. They were clearly wounded and in no fighting condition, so you could easily best them if you needed to, but… Would it really be worth it to make a connection with someone that may surely hold back your chances in a game?

You had half a mind to turn away, leave them to their own struggling devices-

But the choice was taken. A loud groan and the flashlight dropped from the person’s mouth, clattered to the floor, and rolled a few inches.

The stream of light pointed directly to your shoe and lit up the tip of your weapon.

You might’ve expected the person to be startled with the realisation that they weren’t alone, to stumble back or at least gasp. But instead, you were met with an audible sneer.

“Ah. Gonna kill me?”

The end of your pistol still pointed into the darkness, though you could just barely see the silhouette of your target. And oh, you quivered. Your aim was as fractured as your heart, and you’d never held anyone in place with your aim before. It was clear to see.

A familiar snort. “You couldn’t hit me if you tried.”

Your brows tugged together. Your voice had left you entirely, chest heaving with the growing panic at how this tall figure found no sense of danger in you. And yet, that voice was so…

“S-Suguru?”

“Oh?” A beat of silence, and then a soft, sore laugh. “I taught you better than to tremble, baby.”

You almost dropped the pistol. It couldn’t be. You’d seen him fall off the roof shrouded in flame, and it’d been long days. Death was the only escape for him, and he needed it. But here he was, and you couldn’t help but hope it was true.

You dove for that flashlight to check that your wants hadn’t deceived you and scooped it up to point directly at Niragi to take him in in all his… misery.

Your heart broke. The sound of it was a distraught gasp, instant tears pricking the corners of your eyes. “Suguru…”

His gorgeous skin was rippled with the fusion of the fire. His hair ragged and burnt, chest and arms crimson, raw and leaking with infectious fluids.

His face scrunched with immediate hatred, his voice a pained hiss as he turned away. “Don’t. Don’t you fucking pity me.”

“I’m not-“

“Don’t.”

Ah, this was your Suguru. Blunt and dismissive, hostile even to you, but you knew how to handle him. You didn’t let him see dizzying wave of relief that drowned you, you held back those tears. Even if he was the most hated man in this realm, he was yours. You weren’t alone in this world anymore.

You took a brief moment to breathe and let your head calm before stepping in close, light shining on his arms. The skin had melted, black patches of fabric stuck into his skin, all the way up to his bare torso. But he didn’t like you looking.

He snatched away the light and the next thing you knew, you were blinded. Your eyes squinted against it, blinking, brows tugged together as you tried to seek out his face once more against the light.

A delicate hand to your cheek, a soft sigh. That was the sound of lazy Sunday mornings with him, the sound he’d always made with his nose buried into your hair.

You let your eyes close, transporting back to simpler times with his touch. His thumb ran so gently across your cheekbone and for the briefest moment you could pretend things were normal, that he was just your boyfriend back in Tokyo. Your beautiful, troubled, bespectacled boyfriend.

If only he didn’t smell of ash and molten flesh, you could have convinced yourself that nothing had changed.

His touch dropped away, the light directed away and your eyelids fluttered open once more. His gaze was so soft on yours. How could this boy with beautiful doe eyes ever hurt another? Perhaps… Just perhaps, he’d learned his lesson. He didn’t deserve this life.

“Let me see,” you murmured, carefully taking the flashlight from his hold. He was like a lost child as he watched you inspect his chest, so gentle as you opened his shirt to see the scarring. You couldn’t help the grimace as you peeled some of the sticky fabric from yellowed, skinless flesh, but he didn’t even wince. He just watched you quietly, intimately.

You met that gaze, and the butterflies in your chest were dizzying. “I’ll dress it for you. Okay?”

A grunt of agreement.

[sweetflanfiction]

The Arena - Part 1

Universe: Alice in Borderland

Pairing: Chishiya x reader

Disclaimers and Warnings: This is going to have some descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks as well as the general 'alice in borderland' violence. Be warned.

I'm trying to make the reader gn, but I'm always scared to make any sort of gendering labeling, so just please forgive me if something is gendered and know that my idea is to make the reader GN.

And also, I still don't know what I'm doing, and english is still not my main language.

Plot: You go to a work event in a familiar place you've never been to.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5 // Part 6 // Part 7 // Part 8 // Part 9 // End

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The sun was still low on the horizon when you arrived at the Foundation’s main door. Grabbing your duffel bag and backpack you exited your car followed by your close friend, roomie and colleague Kaori. There were already a few staff members waiting, on the sidewalk, for the transport to take you all to the event and you both walked to join them.

Kaori hadn’t stopped talking about the conference and the fact that you would get a free vacation out of it. However, your mind kept switching her off from time to time.

“Hey! You sure you’re feeling alright?” They asked you for the tenth time.

“Yeah. It’s just weird…I feel…weird…” You told them honestly.

You met Kaori a long time ago. They had been the ones that had helped you after ‘the incident’. Their bubbly personality, friendly attitude, and especially their caring and patient side had become a safe space for you to turn to. Even if sometimes they were a bit overexcited. After the meteor, their over-the-top personalities were what kept you motivated.

“It’s the first lengthy trip after the…thing…it’s normal. It’ll be alright…” Kaori placed a hand on your shoulders, giving you a reassuring smile and you smiled back, still weary.

It was in fact the first long trip you had taken after the disaster a year ago. In the months after the incident, just walking around Tokyo would make you hyperventilate. Although it had subsided, there was still a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. You felt like a prey animal, always hypervigilant. All the doctors you knew and all the counselors told you it was normal. You had been through a traumatic event, more than that it had been a sudden traumatic event, your body still in fight or flight mode. Still, the explanation didn’t take away the feeling.

“I promise you, I have googled every single space agency, telescope and conspiracy theory website. None indicated the sky was going to fall down again.” 

You rolled your eyes at their joke. Some people might find their humor offensive, but it was something you both had in common. Even though you still felt the scars mentally of your trauma, you found that a helpful workaround was to joke about it.

“Thank you. Deeply appreciated, friend!” You placed a hand on your heart in mock gratitude and they nodded.

"No problem, buddy."

As you approached the small group of people at the door, you both made a beeline for some familiar faces. The taller of the two figures, Ari, waved at you and your friend as they saw you approaching. 

“Who’s ready for a free vacation?” Ari asked, clapping her hands together and beaming brightly.

“It’s not free.” Chishiya’s raspy voice argued.

"It's an all-inclusive, four-day trip to one of the finest resorts in Tokyo. It's a bit of a free vacation.” Kaori argued back.

“Did you forget about the two-day conference?” He asked her, pushing his hands into his white jacket.

You stood, quietly grinning, looking between Kaori, Chishiya and Ari as the three of them argued whether the event constituted a paid vacation or just work.

“You know! I liked you better when you were blonde.” Ari concluded by crossing her hands over her chest.

The look Chishiya threw at her was the most offended glare you had ever seen him give. It lasted exactly 5 seconds but it was enough for you to snort as you tried to keep the laughter in.

“Come on Ari, we all know blonde Chishiya was not the superior Chishiya.” You teased, pointing at his now jet black hair. “This! This is our true lord and savior. The evolution of the man, who is now a legend.”

“I don’t know why I hang out with you people.” He retorted, but his face was neutral with a side of good humor.

He had indeed made a radical shift in his looks. His hair was slightly shorter, looked healthier, but his usual white was now jet black. He had changed his locks after the incident, a few weeks after he started working at the Foundation. Obviously, you all teased him.

Truth be told, many survivors had indeed altered their appearances after the trauma. The last time you saw some of them, thanks to the ‘mandatory monthly therapy session ’ , there had been some changes in aesthetics. Some had grown out their locks, others had shaved their heads, and others had changed their style completely. You yourself had changed your appearance as soon as you could move about.

Every time you looked in the mirror, the person looking back didn’t seem like you. It was like staring at a photo of you from years ago. From another life. And technically, that was right.

“Because you need a few people around, to bring you down from that marble pedestal you like to stand on.” Ari said and everyone nodded, including him.

“Kicking and screaming sometimes.” Kaori gave everyone a knowing look.

"Alright children. Enough with the beating of an undead horse.” You looked between your friends as they groaned and moaned at the bad joke.

The bus arrived and the group made their way to it. As you walked down the bus aisle quietly, shuffling behind the rest of the staff, you could hear Kaori and Ari argue about something they had read in a scientific magazine and Chishiya complaining he was not mentally ready to spend an hour hearing Ari go on about this.

“You can sit with me.” You smiled at him, turning to look at him over your shoulder. 

“Thank you.” He bowed his head to you.

As the four of you settled into your seats, the excited Ari and Kaori kept chatting on and on about the article while Chishiya just shook his head.

“That article was disproven by several sources months ago.” He declared in a hushed tone as he took out his hoodie and placed it on the overhead shelf. 

“You can walk over and tell them that. Good luck!” You teased him and he shook his head, getting comfortable.

"Ari will probably google it in about...five minutes." He grinned at you, raising one eyebrow and you chuckled.

The relationship between you was warm, comfortable and you both seemed to enjoy each other's company. You both shared a once-in-a-lifetime experience, which bonded you in an unusual way, just like it did with the survivors. There were some who were affected more than others, but being collectively dead for a minute or two had made you all form a strange bond. 

With Chishiya it spanned beyond the monthly meetings though. You had started working at the Foundation months before the meteor, and he had joined a few weeks after. The Foundation had made you and him sit through counseling every week, deeming that the monthly therapy group sessions given by the government weren’t enough. You would both sit in the waiting room of the psych wing waiting for your name to be called. That was the perfect opportunity for you to strike a conversation with the handsome and aloof doctor.

It started with small talk, the weather, the shifts at the hospital, what had been on TV. Even though he seemed distant, he was willing to listen to you. He kept the conversation flowing by adding some snarky remarks and trivia about the topic you'd be discussing.

And then you introduced him to your friends and the four of you became a unit. It had taken him a while to get used to the chaos that was the three of you together, but as time passed, you noticed him becoming more relaxed. Although he kept all of the other staff at arms length, barely moving an eyebrow at them, around you three, he seemed to be content. He seemed to be happy, often antagonizing one of you or just letting you all tease him about something.

It became a habit to wait for each other whenever you had counseling sessions. You would grab some cookies from the machine and sit on a bench taking in the last rays of sunshine.

• ··········· • ············ •

“Thank you” He said one day, munching on a biscuit, making you turn your head towards him in surprise.

“For what?”

“I don’t know.” The still white haired doctor shrugged and leaned back into the stone seat. “When I woke up in the hospital, I felt like I needed a change.”

“Dying does that to you.” You smiled at him and he nodded.

“I didn’t enjoy doing anything before. At least that’s what I felt. I was a flat line, just keeping up with the flow. Nothing mattered. Get to work, pretend to care, go home, pretend to have hobbies, pretend to have friends, go to sleep. Repeat. I felt nothing. Whether I was telling a mother that her child was dying or just ordering lunch, it was all the same to me. ”

“And now? Are there any nuances in your...feelings?” You questioned him softly and clearly saw the gears in his head turn.

“Yes.” He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully rationalize what they are, but there are spikes on the line now.”

“I don’t think you have to rationalize emotions, Chishiya. I don’t think anyone does. You just have them.”

“What if I don't have them?” 

“Well, you go to counseling." you joked, pointing a cookie at him and then becoming serious. "I’ve seen you with your patients. I’ve seen you around Ari and Kaori. I’m seeing you now. This…” Your hand motioned towards him. “This is feeling an emotion.”

• ··········· • ············ •

Tagging goes here :D

[solitaryearthperson]

You Changed Me

Summary: While patching you up, Chishiya confesses something to you.

(The reader is gender-neutral. The race/ethnicity is preferably black/person of color.)

*I am not a medical professional so I don't know if any of this is accurate*

"Hold still," Chishiya told you as he continued to dab the scratch marks with more antiseptic, concentrating on not pressing too hard on you.

"Sorry," you hissed, trying not to feel too flustered at having him so focused on your body even if it was just to patch you up.

Lifting your head up from the bed, you couldn't help but notice the close attention he gave to your wounds. You had seen him focused before when it came to tampering with a tricked-out device of his or a new plan that he had schemed up and wouldn't give you the full details, only the parts involving you. This type of focus he currently had was quite different. He's in his doctor mode, you realized. Right now, you weren't (Y/N), one of the few people he expressed slight concern and affection for. Right now, you were just a patient who needed his professional skills.

"Okay," he began, throwing the now blood-filled cotton ball away in the trash, before getting up and heading to the bathroom. You heard the cabinet open and close before you saw him walk back over to you on the bed, and felt him sitting down on the edge with a needle and thread in one hand, and a box of gauze pads in the other. "I need to stitch you and then dress your wounds."

The sight of the needle and thread made you gulp nervously, but not wanting to seem weak in front of him, you took a deep breath before nodding your head to him.

As he lowered himself to your side, you looked up to the ceiling of the room and tried to ignore the painful sting of the needle entering your skin and the thread following behind.

"Hey Chishi," you said, knowing the nickname irritated him, but not currently caring.

"Yeah," he replied back, his voice the usual devoid of emotions.

"Were you a good doctor," you asked him, feeling curious. He never gave that much details about his life before the Borderlands, besides the fact that he came from a rich family and that he was a doctor.

"Yes, I was," he answered.

The way he answered was full of assurance, leaving no room for doubt, and hearing it made you smile.

"What type of doctor were you? Like general, or surgeon, pediatrician, psychiatrist...?"

"Heart surgeon."

Heart surgeon, you repeated in your mind. The thought of him being a doctor was still a strange thing you couldn't quite grasp, but you were still impressed at the amount of knowledge he secretly had.

"Hmm," you hummed aloud without thinking.

"What?"

"Nothing it's just-," you suddenly hissed at the feel of the needle piercing you sharper than before and you glanced down to see Chishiya was already looking up at you apologetically. "Do you think me and you would have been friends before all of this?" you asked him, slightly twitching at the uncomfortable feeling of the thread moving through your skin.

"Probably not," he answered a little too quickly for your taste and you quickly looked down at him to see the dark roots of his scalp as he continued to stitch.

"Why not?" you didn't mean to show the offense in your voice, but you had thought you and Chishiya were making progress with each other.

"You wouldn't have liked me before this," he answered. "The only reason we are together is because of this place."

He was silent for quite a while, and for a second, you thought that maybe he just simply ignored you, but doing a quick glance down, you saw that while he was still lowered over your stomach, needle and thread in his hand, his demeanor and aura had somewhat changed.

"Do you really think we wouldn't have been friends before this?"

With a tired sigh, he replied, "I know we wouldn't, (Y/N)."

"Why wouldn't I have liked you before, Chishiya? If I like you now, I definitely would have before."

Letting out another hiss, you watched as he finished up stitching your side, then took out a small pair of scissors that you had no idea where came from, and used them to cut the remaining thread.

"I have changed here."

Changed? Is he serious? "Chishi, we all have changed here. This place does that to you-"

"I wouldn't have cared about you before," he interrupted you. "Not you, Kuina, Arisu, or anyone else. I didn't really care much about my patients, either."

The confession made you become quiet for a second. It was something you were glad to hear come out of his mouth as it meant that he trusted you just as much as you trusted him, trusted you enough to confess something personal like that, but still...How could you not care about the patients you saw, worked on?

As if reading your mind, he answered you, "They were just people my job required me to help, just like you all were nothing but pawns to me."

Even though it was the honest truth and something you and the others had already known, you still couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. Despite how close you two had become, it was still a bit of a struggle to not get sometimes offended by his apathetic voice coupled with harsh truths.

"Well, what changed?" You asked, using your elbows to try sitting up, but he quickly placed a hand gently on your shoulder and nudged you back down, flat on the bed.

"You're not ready to get up yet. Just relax and let me know if you need anymore medicine."

You nodded your head, before giving him a silent look, urging him to answer your question.

"You know what changed," he answered.

The answer was true, but you wanted to hear it straight from his mouth. "No, I don't. What changed, Chishi?"

Even though some strands of his hair covered his face, you could still see a slight blush appearing on his face and couldn't keep the grin from growing on yours.

Letting out a sigh at what you were trying to do, he tried to ignore the growing hotness in his face and answer you as honestly as he could. "Kuina...Arisu...and you. You changed me."

I sure did, you thought proudly, watching as he got up from the bed, gathering the needle, leftover thread, and other times in his arms before going back to the bathroom.